An Oppressive Reality

Do you know, I always hear about how poorly treated are Christians in the US. I'm not saying that mistreatment cannot happen in the US, but I wonder- are the stories I hear, or the news I read only a small percentage of what really goes on? What's the other percentage?




When I was younger I was, obviously, a picky eater, so my parents would tell me, "Tine, there are children starving in Africa- eat your food." In my head, I would respond, "Well, then send it to them." What my parents were trying to tell me is to be grateful for the food set before me, I only know that now.

Lately, I've been reading and learning that there is a food shortage right here in this, my adopted homeland of the US. No, I haven't discerned which information is propaganda and which is factual, but whether exaggerated or otherwise, there are those who starve here in the US. To imagine that every US citizen is well-fed is to be disillusioned. Social-economic problems are not reserved for second and third world countries, because of this, though first world countries have the ability, perhaps even the responsibility of helping those weaker than themselves this gives the illusion that somehow those who are helped must be weaker than those who give help: this is perfectly fallacious.

Since problems do not choose a type of person, persons; state, country, nation; era, I have to know, believe and understand that problems can and will arise everywhere- anywhere.

I do not doubt that people starve anywhere and everywhere (willing and unwilling starvation).

I do not doubt that Christians are poorly treated even in this religiously-free country, but I do doubt the extent to which Christians are poorly treated. I sometimes wonder if this poor treatment is unwittingly self-inflicted.

I cannot tell you how many sermons I've heard about the oppression of the Christian faith in even a small town coffee shop; how many articles I read about pastors wrongly imprisoned for sharing the Gospel.

I am well aware that Christ said if they persecuted him how much more so will his followers be persecuted, and yet, how much we do tolerate in this country. Some (left or right winged, or middle, or none) say we tolerate too much, forgetting that they themselves are a part of those tolerated.

But like the 'starving children in Africa' analogy to my younger picky-eater years, the fear of embarrassment for sharing your faith solicitously in a small town coffee shop cannot be compared to persecution of Christians that occurs elsewhere in the world. (And if you misunderstand the former comparison, let me clarify: 'starving children in Africa' can hardly be compared to a middle-class child's refusal to eat meals; however an attempt to teach gratefulness.)

Honestly, who doesn't get teased for being too smart, too tall, too freckly, too pale, too quiet, too loud, too girly, too boyish, too weak, too strong? We tell every child that teasing is just going to happen, but what matters is not what others think (because they're not thinking in the first place) but what you think of yourself, and how you choose to live your own life. We do not judge others because they can't be judged--we do not judge others because we, too, are to be judged.

What poor treatment is teasing for my faith? Is that really the least I can suffer for my faith? That's not really suffering- I just need to get over my insecurities. Much more insecurities than persecutions!

We ought to be more careful of the words we choose to describe our individual pains.

A sudden empathy...

The other day, I found my copy of the Bible, don't ask me where I found it, but I finally found it, and took to reading it. If you recall from my last blog I moaned and groaned about reading Proverbs and Isaiah like the ridiculous child that I am, when it occurred to me (oddly enough, while reading the Proverbs) that perhaps the reason why Proverbs sounds and looks so slapdash-ed-ly put together is that Solomon, wise as he was, had these sudden bursts of wisdom occur to him at the moment, and jotted them down, much like any person, full of wisdom or witless, today would suddenly be struck with a thought which he would have to write down, never later deciding to expand upon that thought. Some thoughts are better left un-expanded; better left as purpose-less poetry :P

note: not poetry without purpose, but without a fluid theme. ya get me?

Perhaps Solomon walked often, making these casual observations when something struck him, like a fire pit and had to write, "As charcoal to hot embers and wood to fire, so is a quarrelsome man for kindling strife", Proverbs 26.21.

He heard, observed, and maybe even touched everything and heard, observed, and touched God, not because God was in the fire he noticed. Do you know, sometimes I entertain the thought: I'm sure that they who wrote the books of the Bible were not always aware that they were directly inspired. I don't imagine that, when they were inspired, they glowed likes the Avatars of the Bending World (see: Nickelodean's The Last Airbender or Legend of Korra), nothing like that- I'm sure they knew when words greater than themselves possessed them (although it would be cool if they did glow, ha) but what if God, when using Solomon, when using Abraham, or Moses, or Isaiah, or Paul, or John- what if these men did not know they were being used till after the fact?

I don't know.

Speaking nonsense, again, I know.

No, don't ask me about Isaiah, yet. Ha, I'll let you know when I get there.





On another note!- I am not an excellent reader. I pick up all these books and do not know how to finish them because I've not yet disciplined my mind to maintain peace during reading. I will read a sentence, obsess over it for a day or more (usually more) and wonder how to apply it.

Fiction, non-fiction- I don't know what it is about them that their words can't make me still. I'm jealous of those who can read for hours and hours without moving. I want to be able to do that because, unfortunately, I like to do other things while I read. I always have a pen or pencil in my hand, and a few semi-transparent sticky flags to mark something..

So, thanks be to God that my parents bought the audio series of The Chronicles of Narnia! The other day, do listen, it's frightfully funny, I was listening to The Last Battle when I finally got to the, well, second-to-last battle of the book: when Emeth wants to see Tash, when Eustace is thrown into the darkened shed; I start crying! And I'm driving while I'm listening and crying, which isn't at all safe for me and my fellow drivers, but I'm crying, salty tears stinging my cheeks, blurring my vision which is already impaired by the glow of the setting sun. By Aslan's Mane, I'm surprised I didn't crash. (Haha.)

No, I can't even blame my monthly friend for such emotional tirades.

But when Eustace was thrown in!- I absolutely fell apart! What terror he must've felt! Now, I knew what was on the other side of that door (only because I've read/heard the books over and over again)- perhaps I cried so because I was living in the story as though I'd never read or heard The Last Battle; that in spite of my foreknowledge of its 'ending' (I say 'ending' because you very well know that Lewis only describes the end of Narnia, indeed of all worlds, as the beginning of Chapter One of the Great Story) I wholeheartedly empathized with Eustace. Felt Jill's pain at her loss. Wept with King Tirian.

Now, if only I could weep, feel and empathize so with the people in this world without casually wanting the high and mighty feeling of helping their souls, but never acting upon that high.




This just occurred to me: do you think that if we just let children read the Bible, just as a story, they would later see it as inspired? Do we really need to say it's inspired? Now, don't mistake me: I'm not saying that the Bible isn't inspired, nor am I saying that we should not bring up children in the faith, but, I am saying that, perhaps, the things we emphasize now as important are later diminished as irrelevant because we emphasize the wrong part. When the word 'inspired' is said, we sometimes harp upon the word 'inspire' instead of harping upon what the inspiration actually entails to the Bible's past, present, and future readers.

But this is too much for a blog post.




On another note, a much lighter one, too: I do believe that I can trust Cumberbatch with any beloved character he so chooses to play.

Seeking after...what?

I don't know if it's just me, but I'm not very good at finding solace where I should find it. That's probably my fault. This is probably a learning/growing point for me--one day I will be able to find solace where I should find it.

...you're probably wondering what 'it' is.

Many of you know, and more of you don't know, that I'm reading the Bible in the year. I've got the handy dandy calendar thingy to help me keep track of what I read day-by-day. In fact, in the blog that I accidentally deleted I used that blog to, well, blog about my daily findings from my reading. Doing that became overwhelming and repetitive. I can only say so much about a few chapters without sounding rehearsed or cliched, so then I wrote on a weekly basis. Then I accidentally deleted that blog this this one is born.

From January to September, what have I learned, so far, in my daily Bible reading? For one: I should not have come upon this read-the-Bible-in-one-year so unthinkingly, or without preparing myself for the histories I would eventually question.

Yes, that's exactly what 'it' is: the Bible. I'm going through Proverbs and Isaiah now (or I was going through it a week ago- I haven't been able to locate my copy of the Bible since last Wednesday) and I cannot tell you how much I dislike Proverbs and Isaiah because I have none of the context! Is that my fault, that I am unaware of the context of Proverbs and Isaiah? I mean, I attended Bible college, for Godsake! How could I not know the context of these books? I know, at this point I am living hand to mouth both physically and spiritually...especially spiritually.

I don't mean to say that I only read when the text means something to me, otherwise, why would I ever read?

Am I the only one who feels this way? That there have been too many verses pulled out of context just 'to comfort' someone 'in pain' or 'in need'?

Bible verses aren't pills to pop. They're not greeting cards to give away.

Someone tell me that they've also thought that the Proverbs are just idioms mushed together. None of the 'chapters' feel like poems, like the Psalms. Proverbs- oh, why did Solomon write Proverbs? I should probably study up on that, huh?





I sincerely apologize for expressing these thoughts. I'm pretty sure I'm a stumbling block to many people.

But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak. For if anyone sees you who have knowledge eating in an idol's temple, will he not be encouraged, if his conscience is weak, to eat food offered to idols? And so by your knowledge this weak person is destroyed, the brother for whom Christ died. Thus, sinning against your brothers and wounding their conscience when it is weak, you sin against Christ. Therefore, if food makes your brothers stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I make my brother stumble. (1 Corinthians 8.9-13)

Or am I the weak one? Besides, all my actions should speak love (Matthew 22.36-40)! I'm feeling pretty weak. I find solace in Reza Aslan, Greg Mortenson, Neil Gaiman, Charlotte Bronte, but I can't find solace in God's Word?

Well, maybe not the solace I think I need. 'I think I need' is about as bad as 'I want', you know. What kind of solace do I really need to find in God's Word? Am I seeking justification? Am I seeking relationships? Am I seeking  good stories? I'm not even sure what kind of questions I'm really asking! Sheesh.

But I can express that most of my frustration is that God can be so good and so wonderful in spite of my foolish wanderings-around. Why can't I find solace in God's Word? Is that not the least I can do for a god so great?

the tenth plague

paint the blood upon the doorpost
and listen to the silence pass over you.

paint the blood upon the doorpost.
did it spatter across your dress?
did it stain the sand beneath your feet?
does its smell make you worry
or empower your faith?

blood? upon the doorpost?

what kind of salvation is this?

no swords?
no bows or arrows?
no armor?
no secret operations or assassinations?

we aren't making war?!

just 'paint the blood upon the doorpost', he says!

"paint the blood upon the doorpost;
you have nothing else to fear.
feast upon the sacrifice;
remember my great name.


"paint the blood upon the doorpost;
watch and be still.
my light to you is warmth,
to others, mighty steel.


"i, the LORD, shall save you.
i will pass over your homes.
your first child, i'll not take,
because i'll give you mine."




paint the blood upon the doorpost.
did you watch it dry?
did you watch it dry and stain
these wooden gates
where death was not allowed to enter?

death could have entered!-
death could have stolen your breath,
removed your heart
and stunned your eyes
making you as limp as the newborn lamb you could have chosen not to sacrifice!
for you are death's.

but YHWH took you back.
YHWH gave you life.
YHWH shunned death from you, though it did not seem right.




paint the blood upon the doorpost
and I will recognize you.

J. M. W. Turner's The Tenth Plague