This song just makes ya happy!

William Fitzsimmons’s cover and total reinterpretaion of Kanye West’s song Heartless.

C.S. Lewis

Just finished C.S. Lewis’ brief but excellent Letter to Malcolm (Chiefly on Prayer). What an outstanding, though-provoking little book! There wasn’t a chapter in it (in all its 22 chapter glory) that didn’t challenge me on some level, whether intellectually or practically. The amount of truth within this book is almost overwhelming. And the fact that C.S. Lewis writes to a close friend–not us–gives the book a warm, conversant feel that often blends together both of the former challenges.

I most liked C.S. Lewis’ ability to analyze, both intellectually and spiritually, the problems with various humanizations of our faith (whether it be ritualization or liberalization or any other form of tainting) while gently bringing back the truth of the Gospel and showing its paramount importance. He handles the topic of petitionary prayer with such acumen that I’d be hard pressed to find a better work on the topic.

This book certainly isn’t for everyone. C.S. Lewis argues and debates his way through the points in this book with great candor and one must be prepared to not just read through but think through the work. He rarely runs far from scripture and when he does it is with at least one disclaimer attached. All in all a fun little book that will surprise you with its depth. I can only hope to exchange letters such as these with a friend. I can hardly believe Malcolm knew how lucky he was every time the postman came.

Tim Keller

Tim Keller

It’s a complete mystery to those pushing a seeker-sensitive movement or something along the lines of the post-modern movement within the church (dubbed “emergent” Christians) why Redeemer Presbyterian Church thrives. Here’s the deal: it’s a hard-line, conservative, Presbyterian church (reformed theology, predestination and all) growing rapidly in the heart of New York City.

But their secret is simple: they preach the gospel. Nothing added. Nothing subtracted. Nothing assumed. Just the gospel.

Unfortunately this concept is not as common as one would hope.

Redeemer’s own Pastor Tim Keller wrote a fantastic book called The Reason for God (In An Age of Skepticism) and in it he touches on the subject of true forgiveness. Essentially he links our forgiveness of others to something prompted by the forgiveness shown to us by Christ.

But he doesn’t stop there. He shows that when we “take up our cross” we are literally called to totally forgive and absorb the sin and wrongs inflicted on us from others (almost literally bearing the pain they should rightfully have) in order to totally and wholly forgive them. This kind of radical forgiveness is hard. But it makes the gospel so much more hollistic and meaningful.

In that sense it’s no wonder that a church like Redeemer Presbyterian is thriving. Praise God for it!

It’s nearly 3:30 am. I was laying in my bed idly working on things on my computer and fiddling around listening to Pandora. It was my Sufjan Stevens station–one of my favorites. A song came on that made me stop. I couldn’t concentrate. It literally consumed my entire mind with everything it said, what it meant to me, and what it meant to things in the past.

I don’t get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here

And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

What if I’d been born fifty years before you
In a house on a street where you lived?
Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike
Would I know?

And in a white sea of eyes
I see one pair that I recognize
And I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you

Next door there’s an old man who lived to his nineties
And one day passed away in his sleep
And his wife; she stayed for a couple of days
And passed away

I’m sorry, I know that’s a strange way to tell you that I know we belong
That I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

This song meant a lot to me. It described the way I felt–and still feel. When it came it what rushed through my was a mixture of emotions, memories, feelings, thoughts, regrets, hopes, dreams, fears, and sorrows. I don’t have a point for all of this.

I think it was meaningful which is why I am recording it. It’s the first time something like that has completely debilitated me. It as overwhelming and scary but at the same time beautiful and sad. But I’m going to spend some time thinking about it now.

Tonight at 8:00pm we pay tribute to one of the most antiquated, ritualistic, and still necessary part of our American political system: the State of the Union address. We know from the outset that we won’t learn anything new (thanks to the endless, 24-hour news cycle) and we know that over half of the allotted air time is going to be spent with pan-and-zoom shots of our current representatives clapping either in support of what was said or out of formality because they don’t want to be a sourpuss.

But this is an integral part of our system. It is a chance for our President to truly recognize the state of our nation, make public his priorities, and show the American people his plan for the next year. At a juncture as critical as this it’s important that he is just there. That our leader is willing to stand up, admit fault in our nation, but promise to tackle it head on. That alone can restore confidence enough to pull the working man into the fold.

It’s going to be interesting to see from whom President Obama pulls his quotes from. Like many of our greatest leaders, he grabs his most poignant statements literally or synonymously from the great leaders of the past. He has already pulled from Kennedy, Lincoln, FDR, and Jesus Christ. It’s going to be interesting to see if he goes that route tonight.

I’m excited. If nothing else, it makes me feel involved in the government. Like I have something to do with what goes on in Washington besides voting for someone every two years.