Real time travel, Fake time travel

Getting started on the blog again has been a little daunting after returning from Israel.  Sometimes when there is a lot to say, I say nothing.  I look forward to sharing my experiences from the trip: where we went, what we saw, what I learned.  That will be difficult in a single post, and since I don't want to shortchange the description, I'll probably just intersperse a little bit about the trip here and there over the next week or two.  Here's a little bit of Day 3 (of 10).

A professor from Ozark Christian College named Mark Moore came with us on the trip and was an invaluable source of information about just about every place we stopped ("he has a huge brain", my friend Rich says).  I felt like the cost of the trip was a bargain with Mark along!  (Here is a link to Mark's summary of the trip: Mark Moore on Israel.)  We captured video of a lot of his teaching.  Hopefully someone posts it and I can link you all to that as well.

Mark calls it the Lake of Galilee, since it's freshwater and landlocked, but I engage in my own private time travel by continuing to call it the Sea of Galilee. Standing on its shores was my favorite thing about the trip.  I was two thousand years ago, and I could see Jesus Himself walking across the water, walking up to me from the shore and embracing me.  I also caught a glimpse of the present (but in a place far away): my grandmother, young and running in heaven's verdant fields.

Time travel may be the wrong term, because it was real.  I was then and I was now.  I was a short drive from the point of the earth farthest below sea level, but very close to heaven.

In slightly less life-changing news, Matt Gatewood and I had a fun conversation about time travel a few days ago.  It may or may not be worth sharing, but here it is for your enjoyment.  The same conversation has probably transpired a million times between better qualified geeks from all corners of the internet, but we tried our hand at it too.  I can almost hear the comments: "Amateurish!  He ignores the classic McDouglas Dilemma inherent in any respectable discussion of time travel."

me: i have a sci-fi grammatical question for you

2:49 PM if i am going to use a time machine and go back in time to do something (e.g. kill a dinosaur), should i say, "i will kill a dinosaur in the past" or "i killed a dinosaur in the past" (even though i haven't gone back in time to do it yet)

2:50 PM i think i should say "i killed a dinosaur in the past" because if at any point i use a time machine to rewrite history, then that becomes the real history

14 minutes

3:10 PM Matt: i think that it is "i will" b/c, even though it is an event in the past, one has not done it in the present

  the time travel itself has not occured

15 minutes

3:28 PM me: but if the time travel ever occurred, then it has occurred, because there is a singular history

3:29 PM Matt: but, have you done the time travel yet

  have you gone back in time to kill the beast yet?

 me: but the past is the past

 Matt: but in your present reality, you haven't done it yet

3:30 PM me: there is one reality

  of course, by the same reasoning, if the past changed as a result of time traveling in the future, it nullifies the need to do the time traveling in the future

 Matt: but, when did you come aware of the time travel?

 me: it doesn't matter whether i'm aware of it or not

  it happened

3:31 PM Matt: but, do you not have to go back in time to make the event occur

  meaning, the event hadn't happened

  you go back and do it

 me: but the occurrence of the event is in the past

3:32 PM even if i haven't traveled yet. it is accomplished in the past

 Matt: once you do the event and come back, i'm cool with "i did it"

  but, you have to accomplish it first

  what if you don't...

 me: the past always comes first, so it did come first

 Matt: did you stay in the past time?

3:33 PM what if your event caused you to never be born?

  (this is fun)

 me: then i would never be able to travel back to do it, then i would not have prevented my birth, hence i would still be born

  yes, this is fun

3:34 PM Matt: i am assuming that this is the first "time" you have come up with the idea

  i see your point...you came up with the idea

  did the deed

 me: actually i think we had a very similar conversation before

 Matt: back in reality

  so...is there a loop in time?

  where you travel?

3:35 PM me: i view it as a line, and the traveling itself as instantaneous events

3:36 PM Matt: i view the alternative reality

  like the star trek movie

 me: yes, that's what i thought of, the star trek movie

  which cheats

Blogging where Jesus blogged

We made it to Israel after over 24 hours of traveling.  Today we checked out Caesarea, a major port in Jesus' day, and where Herod had a palace.  We are staying in Tiberias, right by the Sea of Galilee. 

After 24 hours of travel, most of us are pretty wiped out.  I managed to sleep 4 hours on the last leg of our journey, from Madrid to Tel Aviv, but I couldn't manage to sleep on the longest leg of the trip: the flight from Chicago to Madrid.  At one point I even tried lying on my back on the floor under the seat in front of me, with my feet up in my own seat, but that didn't work so well.  Probably because the emergency life jacket was pressing against my face under the seat.

One bummer: when I went through the passport check in the Tel Aviv airport, they didn't stamp my passport!  They just stamped a slip and "put me in the computer".  I wish I had noticed sooner.

The food at the hotel has been really good.  I will try to take a picture of my next plate, since that's more interesting than reading a list; the first buffet meal included hummus, eggplant, "chicken steak", tomatoes, squash, olives, jello, and a bunch of sweets.

I was going to upload more pictures, but I have 5 more minutes of internet time and no camera battery life!  Now I understand what those friends of mine on mission trips were talking about when they said their time was limited!  Hopefully I'll get to be online again before we head home, but I may not get to do so.

Fear...iously. Israel.

Last night I brought my 32" TV and PS3 over to Matt and Julie's (The Gatehood); she made a delicious meal complete with pumpkin muffins with chocolate chips, icing and candy corn; and we went into the future and into deep space on a mining vessel, where surely no aliens would attack.  Matt and I busted out Dead Space and were pleasantly surprised (except for the goriness; we decided that we prefer being scared to being grossed out).  It felt like playing through the movie Alien, complete with an interesting plot.  It's a shame Matt had to work on laundry throughout most of the game; that pesky dryer buzzer kept going off whenever it was his turn.

Tomorrow morning I leave for Israel.  We ride to Chicago on a bus, fly to Madrid, then to Tel Aviv.  I don't feel quite ready.  I don't know what to expect.  I don't know how to approach it.  I know the temple veil was torn; I can talk to God like a friend, and the Spirit of Christ lives in me.  But to be where Jesus walked, to retrace some of His steps, to be near the cradle of civilization and the cradle of God: it seems weighty because it's so visceral, so tangible.  I hope to find there fewer impediments to prayer, and from there to take home images in my mind to help me see what I read.

Someone on our trip will be updating this video blog, if you want to "follow along": http://postworship.squarespace.com/thepostisrael

I look forward to sharing pictures and stories after I get back (on the 24th)!

Confluence and convergence

When I order something online, I usually have it shipped to my work address so that it will get to me during business hours.  My friend Jared does the same thing at the Sprint store where he works.

ROB: Hey, Jared, there's a package here for you.

JARED: Cool, go ahead and open it for me.

ROB: (Opens package).

JARED: What is it?

ROB: ... It's the gayest thing I've ever seen in my life.

JARED: Sweet, my Harry Potter DVDs came!

And while it may seem ridiculous to the uninitiated, I'm right there with Jared.  I know, I've already geeked out about Harry Potter in one post, but bear with me.  As I near the end of the saga and see how neatly everything fits together, from the beginning of the first book all the way through the series, I'm really in awe.  So many themes and subplots beautifully woven together to make me laugh, put a smile on my face, touch my heart and lift my spirits.

I write this not to praise the books or the author, but to share just the most recent example of something that has caused me to pause and admire the capacity of the human mind and spirit to wonder, to be creative and to appreciate beauty.  In stories or in life, when I see courage expressed, when I see someone humble himself, when I see the sacrificial love of a parent for a child, when something makes me laugh really, really hard: I see how fearfully and wonderfully made that each of us is.  We are agents; we are transcendent; "the blush of our anger could bury the sun."1

Like the romantic hero in Chapter 1 of Chesterton's Orthodoxy ("I am the man who with the utmost daring discovered what had been discovered before."  "Like them I tried to be some ten minutes in advance of the truth. And I found that I was eighteen hundred years behind it."2), I want to chart my own course; I want to do the discovering.  I want to leave a mark on the world that only I could have made, in a way that only I can.  My curiosity burns when I ponder just how God might use the unique confluence and convergence of my talents, interests, desires, and opportunities.

A few years ago when I read Galatians in the Bible, the significance of Saul's "Damascus Road experience" became very clear to me.  He didn't obtain the gospel he began to preach by learning about it from Jesus' twelve apostles; he obtained it from the resurrected Christ when he revealed himself to Saul on the road.  Yet when he meets up with the apostles three years later, his message fits with theirs!  Because it's from the same Jesus.  Saul becomes Paul after he meets Christ, and devotes his life to spreading the gospel he received.

The Gospel, while I cannot plumb its depths, is simple.  Everyone understands love, and that better than all the "subtlety" and "nuance" I continue to grapple with.  I will hold out to make an impact in a way that only I can.  But I will also hold out the gospel of love itself to my corner of the dying world, that God may awaken their unique confluence and convergence of talents, interests, desires and opportunities.


1 "Levels of Light", Sleeping At Last
2 Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton

Cell phones, lighters and a sheep

People seem to think it is funny to hold up cell phones with their screens lit up at a concert.  I don't get it.  I think I followed the crowd and did it once a few years ago, but I didn't understand what we were doing.  At the time I felt like I was supposed to understand and be in on the joke and was scared to death of being different from the crowd.

I know, it started with lighters, but heck, I never understood why people held up lighters at concerts either.  I would be surprised if anyone understands it at this point, yet people continue to do it.  Somehow it's obligatory.  Did I miss something?  Anyone else have a good example of odd trends like this?

Scary Video Games

Matt Gatewood and I love to scare ourselves silly playing Resident Evil in the dark.  On more than one occasion we've been laughed at by people peeking in the door to catch us staring intently at the screen, eyes wide, mouth half open, completely unaware of how long we've been playing.

A few years ago when I lived at home, we were playing, and my mom sneaked up and imitated a girlish scream from the game, which sent Matt jumping off the futon.  Actually she may not have even sneaked up; when we play, we're basically oblivious to the world.

Playing the Wii version of the game has yielded still more laughs.  While I was being swarmed by giant insects, frantically using the Wii remote to aim and fire at them, "A - Kick" appeared at the bottom of the screen.  I didn't know what Matt was laughing at until I realized I was actually kicking in the air.  It's hard to remember the A button in the heat of battle.

I don't know why it's fun to be scared, but it is.  I'm not into scary movies, but I can't help but think that scary video games are scarier than scary movies.  They put me in the hapless character's shoes, complete with clunky controls and the possibility of death.  If a character dies in a scary movie, there's nothing I can do about it, but in the game, it's on my head.  Plus, it's hard to care much about the demise of movie victims, because typically they've acted pretty stupid, selfish and annoying up to that point.

Next up: Dead Space for PS3, purchased yesterday with a gift certificate Matt gave me, and primed to scare us on Tuesday.  This will be the most high-def fear we have subjected ourselves to yet, so I'm curious to see what kind of highbrow laughs will ensue.  It's fun to be scared, but it's even more fun to laugh at someone who is scared.

Waste of time? For shame!

It was a struggle, but I managed to keep my mouth shut a few weeks ago when a guy at church told me he doesn't read fiction because "it's a waste of time."  I have gone through spells where I didn't read much, but I've learned again how to lose myself in a book and love every minute of it.  That's how I've spent 90% of my free time in the past two months, as well as 33% of my sleep time.

I avoid spoilers like oncoming traffic, so it is with great hesitancy that I disclose which tomes are responsible: the Harry Potter series.  I'm currently navigating book 7 (while ignoring recommended reading for Israel).  In a week's time (well, after I get back from Israel), I should be finished and we can talk all about it.  Until then, let me savor the surprises.

There's so many beautiful and, fittingly, magical things about these books.  Rowling has poured imagination and creativity into these pages, and it's simply fun to experience life with these characters.  Learning magic suddenly seems a little less glamorous and a lot more dangerous, yet I'd love to be there studying with them.  There is great emotional depth to the epic, which surprised me in a wonderful way.  The relationships
between these characters and the corresponding emotions are palpable: frustrating, invigorating, saddening.

Things that make me cry are gold; perhaps I am strange to love them so, but I do.  Yes, real life blesses us with these moments too, but they are usually accompanied by pain.  Maybe I can attempt in a future post to explore in better detail what makes such a moment, but for now, may it suffice to say that when they happen, in spite of the pain, it is beautiful.

In Defense of Procrastination

I thought I would make it to the gym yesterday, get on the treadmill and get in a little exercise before leaving for Israel next week. I had a new book with me, new hiking shoes to break in, the perfect window of time between work and band practice, and I wanted to be able to say that my first blog post was directly related to the day's events!

Well, it didn't happen, primarily because I spent more time writing the post than I thought I would, and my window was gone. Most things take longer than I expect: chores, driving, shopping. On most of my half-workday Fridays, I write down eleven things I want to get done before the evening's activities. I am optimism personified when it comes to filling a few hours.

Usually by the time I finish the second thing on my list, I look at the clock, and according to my schedule I'm supposed to be done with the fourth thing. I choose which one or two of the remaining nine things can't wait, or will bother me most if they aren't done soon, and admit to myself that cleaning my room will take about 9 times longer than the half hour I allocated. The pile of junk in the corner remains.  But at least it's on the list.

I know -- yesterday I was decrying lists.  I don't take back what I said.  Keeping a "list completion" mentality and longing for the day when everything is checked off is an oppressive way to live.  But I think there's something special about making that interminable list: to add to it every day, every hour.  To realize I'd like to run a marathon, to learn Latin, to become fluent in Spanish, to learn to play drums, to install my own hardwood floors, to visit new places, to read that series, to write an operating system, to make an album.  There's something wonderful about adding things to that list way faster than I can possibly check them off.

I guess I've always lived my life subconsciously refusing to believe that time is finite, that the long string of days comprising my life will eventually end.  Heaven is supposed to be that way, right?  Is my faith really that strong, that I've already settled into an eternal lifestyle in some ways?  I wish I could say it is, but it's more likely that God has simply given me bigger eyes than my stomach, itches I can't scratch, and a propensity to write checks in dreams that the waking world will not cash.  Hopefully there is a place for this irresponsible sort of behavior.

On a treadmill

If I step onto the treadmill, I make sure I have a book or a podcast ready to go. The prospect of being unable to multi-task during a mundane, repetitious workout depresses me. And it's funny: I enjoy reading; I enjoy catching up on news through podcasts; but I can't seem to help looking at these activities as "to dos" to be scratched off a list. The next chapter of a book, the next level of a video game, the next mile, the next podcast, the next coat of paint, the next errand: each is another check mark on a list growing inexorably.

Too often this list defines my life. Wow, I wrote that last sentence before I realized how true it is. On occasion, my mouth will surprise me and put my feelings into words before I think I understand how I feel: when I answer a "tough question" without thinking too hard. When I answered my mom, "no, I'm really not happy that I'm getting married." Apparently my fingers share that talent. Answers like these scare me.

But when something that could be on the list transcends the list itself, I find myself really enjoying life. Reading a book I've read before. Playing NES Jackal for the ten thousandth time. Sitting down at the piano to play my songs. Hanging out and laughing with my family and my close friends. Doing something not because I have to, but because I want to.

I've heard it said that you should find a job you love so that work won't feel like work. For me, thoughts along these lines keep leading me back to writing and playing music. But I haven't yet devoted the time to see it through, to test those waters. I haven't given it an honest effort. I'm even hesitant to do so for apprehension that doing so will relegate even music to the list that governs my life.

Another obstacle that keeps me from doing more with music is writer's block for lyrics. I love writing tunes and have been sitting on a few half-decent ones for years. I keep telling myself that I'll write lyrics for them one day. But I need to get past the block.

That's kind of where this blog comes in: I think my writer's block is due to the fact that I am not in the habit of writing. I'm hoping this blog gets me into the habit. I was blessed to meet my favorite songwriter, Ryan O'Neal from Sleeping at Last, and he told me to just write, write, write: that "eventually what will happen is, you'll scrape your mind clear of all the clutter that clogs up the good stuff, and you'll find your heart in there, and writing about pain, or love or struggle, will be sincere."

I find writing easiest when I know my audience. And that's where you come in: an audience of friends. Make comments, chime in, just read -- so I have a reason to write.