And just as I was about to forget about the tragedy of non-happenings, another headline caught my attention last night.  Another South Korean celebrity has committed an apparent suicide.  Chae Dong-ha, a member of the popular (they have to be popular since even I’ve heard of them) musical group SG Wannabe, hanged himself last night.  He was battling depression.  He was 30 years old.  Fame, friends, wealth, youth – none of that mattered when Chae Dong-ha decided to end his life.

As I read that news last night, all I could think about was about how ready people are to hear some news of hope.  It caused me to think about the stories of the apocalyptos all over again.  It reminded me of the rallying cry of President Obama’s presidential campaign.  It brought to mind the refrain from U2′s hit “Forty”: How long to sing that song?  How long?  How long?

Which ultimately took me back to David’s Psalm.  There is comfort there because there is a promise there.  A promise of hope, of a future, and of a God who wants to deliver.  A God who wants to deliver us from pain, from harm, from hopelessness.  That’s what people need.  That’s what people are dying for.  I’m praying for a day when everyone finds hope in the only one that can satisfy.  Be encouraged friends, by the message of a God who delivers.  And pray for haste, for all who are dying for hope.

⁴ How blessed is the man who has made the LORD his trust,
And has not turned to the proud, nor to those who lapse into falsehood.
⁵ Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders which You have done,
And Your thoughts toward us;
There is none to compare with You.
If I would declare and speak of them,
They would be too numerous to count.

⁶ Sacrifice and meal offering You have not desired;
My ears You have opened;
Burnt offering and sin offering You have not required.
⁷ Then I said, “Behold, I come;
In the scroll of the book it is written of me.
⁸ I delight to do Your will, O my God;
Your Law is within my heart.”

⁹ I have proclaimed glad tidings of righteousness in the great congregation;
Behold, I will not restrain my lips,
O LORD, You know.
¹⁰ I have not hidden Your righteousness within my heart;
I have spoken of Your faithfulness and Your salvation;
I have not concealed Your lovingkindness and Your truth from the great congregation.

¹¹ You, O LORD, will not withhold Your compassion from me;
Your lovingkindness and Your truth will continually preserve me.
¹² For evils beyond number have surrounded me;
My iniquities have overtaken me, so that I am not able to see;
They are more numerous than the hairs of my head,
And my heart has failed me.

¹³ Be pleased, O LORD, to deliver me;
Make haste, O LORD, to help me.

The worst part about it is that Christians fare no better than their unbelieving counterparts.  After a vow before God to love “til death do us part,” many Christians are falling short of their covenants.  As a man, there is no commandment scarier than to love my [future] wife as Christ loves the church.  And how did he display that love?  He died for her, and now lives for her.  Pretty heavy stuff.

And just when I thought that a love like that would thoroughly impossible, I come across this video.  It is an interview with Coach John Wooden.  If you have become somewhat of a cynic, I don’t blame you.  But please, before you give up on all hopes of true love, watch the video.  Coach says it perfectly: the only way to stay committed is to truly love.  And my prayer for you is that you would come to understand that God’s love is a lot like the love that Coach describes… only better.

http://espn.go.com/blog/sportscenter/post/_/id/4915/john-woodens-love-letter

However, in light of the fact that (a) everyone and their mom has written about this topic, (b) I’ve discussed this in detail with everyone I can at lunches, dinners, and coffees, and  (c) because I’m really late on posting about this, I’ve just decided to say the following:

Let’s not let miscommunications break up the witness. Can I get an amen?

Please click here if you want to see how I feel about this whole matter.

As I watched the confetti rain down, I came to a startling revelation: I am not REALLY good at anything.  This is by no means a pity party; I simply have never invested myself into one activity for a substantial amount of time.  I have dabbled in everything: I played multiple sports in high school; I slapped the bass; I enjoy games like backgammon — there really is nothing I have not tried.

And still, there is a part of me tha twishes I had the discipline to see something through.  Relating to all sorts of people through these different media is fun, but in the end, they are all simply surface level fancies and not passions in my life.

Without sounding too spiritual, I suppose the only thing that I have dedicated myself to is the church, and I can confidently say I have not truly invested everything of myself into that either.  My resolution is to be committed a target and watch my own confetti rain down as I stand triumpantly at the goal.  I hope we can all commit to something of that intensity.  After all, there is no telling how far we can go if we were to live with a singular passion and conviction.

–

I like going to conferences.  My favorite part of conferences is being as shameless as possible with regards to  free stuff.  My second favorite part of conferences is connecting with like-minded  people with similar interests and passions.  My third favorite part is listening to speakers because the main hall is usually air conditioned, and no one is looking at you while you fall asleep.
Don’t get me wrong: I love listening to passionate people share their passions.  My personal problem with large plenary sessions is that (1) normally the person sharing is a fairly well known individual whose ideas are also well known, (2) their speech/talk is a re-hashing of said ideas or something that has already been spelled out in their book, and (3) there is no opportunity to debate or disagree with the speaker on stage.  In light of these points, a late morning or late evening nap  is a far better use of time.  Sure I’d like to see these individuals in person; however, I think all of us would agree that sitting in a 10,000 person auditorium and watching the speaker on a video monitor is an awful lot like watching them on video or online.

I am positive that most of the people at conferences profit more from networking with people and meeting them face to face than from plenary sessions with speakers (Again, just read their book.  It’s probably why they are there in the first place).  Conferences should be a place where people can share ideas, have their ideas challenged, and find the right people to get their ideas implemented.

All of the above climaxes in this one issue: these conferences, especially Christian conferences, and especially Christian conferences geared to pastors, and in particular Christian conferences geared towards YOUTH pastors, should not cost money.  Okay, okay.  Should not cost very much money.  $350??  For a conference?  Are you kidding me?  $100 a day??  $35 for ONE session, and you don’t even get to walk the exhibit hall to pick up free pens???  This is outrageous and, dare I say it, wrong.

While I can’t expect much to change, I will say this: if you believe it is impossible to have a quality conference with the free exchange of ideas, face-to-face networking, quality speakers, and have it all for free, think again.  I will direct you to theideacamp.com.  I have so much respect for major leaders in both faith-based and non-faith based organizations, that have made/legitimized the idea of a purposeful (and free) conference for people that want to be inspired and encouraged to move forward with their ideas for the betterment of the church and the world.

So, in conclusion, do what it takes to create a meaningful conference for everyone.  Don’t let flash replace substance, or allow cost compromise collaboration.

I know that turning 21 is exciting.  So many more doors seem to be open to you when you finally reach that age.  Unfortunately for both you and our society, with the exception of voting, all of the new things you can try and experience happen to be unwholesome things and voting ain’t all that great either.

People call 21 the “golden age” because it’s the age when you can do stupid things and get away with it.  ”Oh, you’re just acting your age,” some will say; others may tell you to “live a little.”  Allow me to give you a little unconventional advice: Find your joy in Christ.  Live wisely.  Be an alien in this world so that when you don’t drink, and don’t party, and don’t do the typical I’m-21-so-I-can-be-stupid things, people will ask you why, and you can tell them because you’re living for a greater reward.

I’m not trying to be a killjoy.  I love you, and ultimately I want you to know and experience joy that is greater than anything 21 will bring.  And if you decide that what is written here is not for you, then whatever you do, live up to your name: be wise, cuz.

While I understand that many people may feel that not allowing homosexual couples to “marry” may be inconvenient, I can not understand as to how this quote even remotely describes the situation of homosexuals seeking to have civil unions labeled as “marriage.”  Nelson Mandela was a political prisoner who was abused, rejected, exiled, and reviled for being black.  Mandela was imprisoned for even speaking about equality and the end of Apartheid.  Last time I checked, homosexuals are not rejected, exiled, or reviled for being homosexual.  And the last time I checked, homosexuals and gay-rights activists are as vocal as ever about their desire for equality.  Moreover, I would say that those who oppose gay marriage are the ones who are abused, rejected, lambasted, and reviled in our community.

Again, while I understand that the people of West Hollywood and some – let’s be honest, only some – people favor gay marriage, let’s not go overboard here; to compare the plight of homosexuals to Apartheid would be foolish if not outright offensive to those who actually suffered injustice at the hands of evildoers.

Forever might be an exaggeration, but not by much.  I haven’t seen her in almost seven and a half months.  My paternal grandmother is one of the few blood relatives that I still have, and she’s aging more rapidly every year.  My sister and I used to joke that she would live to see the century mark, but these days I’m not so sure anymore.  Sure, her independence is remarkable.  She’s one of the few 87 year old women I see doing her own grocery shopping and taking the bus downtown.  One would not expect any less from this iron-willed pioneer who left everything (twice) to immigrate to this country.

Still, her fragility is apparent; she needed help changing out the battery in her wall clock because she couldn’t manage to pull the back panel off.  Moreover, her vulnerability is frightening given the fact that she has been the backbone of this family for so long.  All I could do is assure her that she has done a wonderful job raising resilient, if not stubborn children, and even more stubborn grandchildren.  Tonight, over a bowl of noodles, she reminded me to pray, to study God’s word, and to live a life in which Christ comes first, and family comes second.

Happy birthday, Grandma.  Although I haven’t been a great grandson, I promise that this coming year will be different.  You’ve done a great job carrying this family.  I think it’s my turn now.

Allow me to posit two questions over which I have racked my brain ever since I entered that courtroom:

1. Do you have a problem – moral or otherwise – with the use of deadly force for self-defense?
   • Answer I gave in the courtroom:  No.  If I was attacked and I felt my life was in danger, I would actively protect myself with deadly force.  The law clearly outlines the parameters that define self-defense, and, barring any disproportional response, deadly force is within those parameters.
   • Why this question bothers me: Jim Elliot had weapons, and could have used them on the indigenous people of Ecuador.  Would I have acted like Jim Elliot?  What if I had a wife, or children, and their lives were threatened?  Would my response be the same?
2. Am I a racist?
   • Answer I gave myself in the courtroom: No.  I am able to differentiate logically between my own prejudices and the facts in a case.
   • Why this question bothers me: Though the facts of the case have nothing to do with black or white, the reality is that race has already played a huge role in the way this case has been handled.  Would there be as much media coverage and public outcry if the victim had been a poor black man?

Only when I was given the responsibility of determining the fate of another human being did I even contemplate these questions.  I am embarrassed, conflicted, and most importantly challenged by these issues.  Here’s two insights I never thought I would reap from 2 days in jury duty.  I will add them to the other insights I had in the previous post.

I hope I never have to kill someone else.  I’m pretty sure I’m a racist.

As ridiculous as the system may appear, and as loathsome as the process may be, the fact that I live in a society in which people are allowed to (or coerced to, whatever) participate in the justice/legal system is amazing.  More than some lecture on civics and the American justice system, I wish to share some observations that I have gleaned from this morning’s monotony.

• No where else will you find 100 more diverse people all called together for civil service.  When  our government so often seems dominated by one particular mold, this room is speckled with young, old, white, black, hispanic, professionals, students, etc.  I’m sure courtrooms in Witchita don’t have such beautiful diversity.
• There was a man this morning who in  jest or spite, decided to lecture the court employees on how many other ways he could be spending his morning.   I could only wonder to myself whether that man truly appreciated the fact that this process and this building protects that man’s right to mouth off.
• A judge powerfully shared the value of civic duty this morning only to be met with blank stares and marked indifference.  He explained that the task before us as jurors was to determine the fate of not only the defendant, but the family of the defendant, the victim, and the victims family – only to  be met with blank stares and marked indifference.
• Although this is probably an unintended consequence of procedural due process, only when you have seen how angry and malevolent these jurors can be do you realize that you never, ever, want to be tried for a crime.

And so here I sit, waiting for my name to be called.  To be quite honest, I hope to at least sit in a jury panel.  It would be a shame to come all the way down here and not even get an opportunity to serve.  And for all of you naysayers embittered to the system, I will say this: just be glad it’s not conscription.

Ergo, civis americanus sum. And damn proud of it.