Category: regular

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Sabbaths are a Sign.

I was reading in the book of Ezekiel (as per the YouVersion “daily reading” plan which has regrettably looked for me more like an every-other-daily plan at best) recently and was struck by Ezekiel 20:12.

Did you catch that?  (mouse over the verse to read it)  God gave us the sabbath (a day of rest at the end of the week) to be a sign that he is the one that sanctifies us (makes us holy)!  What a profound thought, that the sabbath, as opposed to being a religious formality where we stop working for fear of God punishing us, is in fact supposed to remind us that all of our striving and work could never save us.

God longs for us to come and sit at His feet, and cultivate a relationship.  He’ll do all the fixing, the working, the chipping away of the old self.  All we have to do is rest.

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Welcome!

So, I got a guest post over at “Stuff Christians Like” which is the Christian-blogical equivalent of me suiting up and snagging Kobe’s starting spot. (or at least John Paxson’s spot on the ‘93 Bulls.  Who’s with me?)

With a guest post of such magnitude, I thought I’d take a second here on my blog to introduce myself, with the overt desire of persuading several dozen of you to become regular readers.

I’m Ben.  Not to be confused with Little Ben, who is far cuter.  Most of the stuff you experience on the blog was posted by me.  My beautiful wife Jacqueline (Jacq for short, but try to avoid “Jackie” if you would…) posts from time to time, and mostly works the pictures-of-the-little-guy angle.

Vocationally, we are hedonistic drug dealers.  Our drug of choice is grace (the unmerited, unearnable, irrevocable thumbs-up of the only One whose opinion matters), and we deal primarily on the college campus.  We got hooked on grace in college, and have been junkies and dealers simultaneously for the past 7 years (Ben) and 4 years (Jacq). We’re involved in a plot outlined in Matthew 28:18-20 to hook people from every nation, people and language on the good stuff.

Non-vocationally (hobby-ally?) put me down for a slab of graphic design with a side of total frustration when I try to make those designs into web pages.  My semi-ineptitude at CSS is illustrated in the fact that above you see my latest twitter update, but not my wife’s.  I’m working on it.  I love the creative process and really long to give my creativity a non-sucky outlet. Some of those outlets? Video production, photography, creative writing, and graphic design.  I’m still very much a rookie and formally untrained in all of the above.  I am slightly more-trained as a guitar player and worship leader, which also serves as a creative outlet.

To get to know us a bit better, here’s a list of posts I think you ought to check out:

My experience with rice cereal and the pinky.

My 25 things.

LB and the monster faces (video)

Why I do what I do.

LB and the blocks (video)

The tag cloud to my left (your right) is also a great way to find out more about a specific segment of the blog.  The bigger the word, the more I have to say about it.

I should warn you that if you poke around enough on this site, or stick around for more than a few minutes, I’m bound to challenge you to worship with your wallet.  Here’s a post clarifying that phenomenon.

Why do I blog?  Here’s the approximate motivational breakdown:

60.21% Keeping friends, family, ministry partners, and others up-to-date on our life, in the never ending quest for actual authenticity.

32.45% Creative expression outlet

7.34% Challenging folks in their view of God, money, and life.

(I’m also willing to include up to 10% extra in the event that you are a high school or collegiate football coach and require more than the standard 100%.)

So, I’m glad you stopped by.  Bookmark us, follow one or the other of us on twitter, subscribe to the RSS feed over there—>, and swing by again!  I’d also love it if in the comments below you’d share where you’re from.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give Kobe his jersey back.

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You Don’t Know Ben(andJacq)…

I thought we’d go on a fun trip with all the new readers, and share something with you that, unless you’ve been around for quite some time, you don’t know about us.  This first post will be about me (Ben) and is something you know if you’ve read my 25 things post, but I’m about to take you all the way back to 2001 and fill you in on the details.  So crank up the Kirk Franklin, because this story will make you want to stomp. (I’m really sorry for that reference.  I won’t let it happen again)

I was in Central Asia (can’t tell you the country, but I can tell you it used to be a Soviet Socialist Republic…) with Campus Crusade, and a friend named Chris and I had been invited to a local student’s house.  We were excited to go, and took a “taxi” trip (anything with 4 wheels and an extra seat is a taxi in that town) that dropped us off right around the corner from our destination. The local student met us, shook hands (as is the custom), and motioned for us to follow him.

I wish I had taken a picture, because using words to describe what happened next simply doesn’t do it justice.

We rounded the corner to find a late-middle-aged man in what I hesitate to call an above ground pool, for fear that you won’t envision a giant tin can filled with water.  Also of note is the fact that our as-yet-unintroduced new friend was wearing what appeared to be tightie-whities.  I can’t confirm that, because there’s a one glance maximum on those types of things.

Our fully-clothed student friend looked at me and struggled to come up with three English letters, all the while pointing at the man in the tin can, who I had just noticed was holding a half empty bottle of vodka… “K, um, G, ah, B” he said, “yes, KGB”

Let’s pause and recount.  A student in a former Soviet country had just introduced two American college students (who were in the country to share their faith without government permission) to his friend the nearly-naked, definitely-intoxicated former KGB agent.

You’re thinking it couldn’t get any more surreal than that, right? Surely this story has hit it’s weirdest point?

Nope.  Let’s fast-forward past the pleasantries of meeting one another.

Vladimir (the name I’ve just given the naked KGB agent) put down the vodka, looked up, and asked in his thick Russian accent, “So, what is difference between Muslim and Christian?” followed by, “I never read Bible.  What is special about Bible?”

Yup, that’s the most conflicted I’ve ever felt.  Do I answer this guy’s question and risk it being a trap, or do I feign ignorance and face the very real potential that he never meets another Christian in his lifetime?  No pressure.  I refused to make eye contact with Chris, hoping he’d take that as a cue to answer the question.

I honestly don’t remember exactly how the rest of the conversation went.  I do know that we dodged the question the first time, and tried to figure out why he wanted to know.  I also know that we left him with a Russian language Bible, and had fully explained the gospel by the time we left.

I hope Vladimir read that Bible.  And I hope Jesus took the scales off his eyes to see God for who He truly is.  And, someday in heaven, I hope to get that story from his perspective.  Because it’s easily my most memorable conversation about the gospel to date, and, most likely something you didn’t already know.

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I want the kick drum.

The other night at the Derek Webb concert I had a blast. Very few artists can make me think like he can. His perspective on life is amazing.

I think my favorite song on his new album (which he plays ALL of at the show) is “The Spirit and the Kick Drum.” It is a resounding call to the church, all caught up in our sound and lights worship services, to remember that we are not the point. The three lines that stick out from the song, and form the frame onto which each verse is woven:

I don’t want the Spirit, I want a kick drum.

I don’t want the Son, I want a jury of peers.

don’t want the Father, I want a vending machine.

What is it that we want out of Christianity? Do we want God, so that he can give us something else, like health or money? Or do we see HIM as the blessing of the gospel?

How often, if I am honest, I look to what God is holding out in his hand to me, and miss the point that it is the sight of God’s hand at which I ought to marvel.

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The Perks of the Job.

I have a confession.

I love raising support.  I know, it’s strange.  How totally and completely un-American.  To ask people to contribute money to our ministry, so that we get paid, is so counter-cultural.

But as we have been doing it full time these past few weeks, I have noticed that being forced to ask people for money also forces me to depend on others, and sheds light on my fierce anti-Christian self-dependence.

So, while I don’t always enjoy the phone calls, or constantly initiating with folks, I do cherish the reminder that I am not in control.  Apart from Christ, I am a wreck looking for a place to happen.  But in Him I have all I’ve ever needed.

What a treat to have a job that forces on a regular basis to deal with my junk.

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