the gospel of mark

I have a confession to make: I have never manuscripted the Gospel of Mark with InterVarsity (*gulp.*).  For those of you who aren't familiar with IV, Mark is a very special book to the fellowship.  There are entire retreats dedicated to studying the book.  Anyone who's been around long enough knows what "Mark Study" is.  I've heard countless stories of lives transformed through the studying of this particular book.  It's almost a rite of passage to being completely IV-fied.

Not surprisingly, I've had more than a few friends almost gasp in surprise and incredulity when I tell them that I have not manuscripted Mark.  One friend, in consolation, responded with, "Well, you planned an Urbana conference, so that almost makes up for that."

So earlier this month, I decided to semi-read/semi-manuscript the Gospel of Mark by myself.  While I'm at it, I'll make another confession: I prefer to read the Old Testament over the New, and then any other books in the New over the Gospels.  I think it's because I've grown up hearing countless sermons on the four books and not as much on the others.  Every time I read the Gospels I pray that my eyes will be open to re-encountering the Word in new ways, because the truth is, I don't know or understand these stories as deeply as I think I do.  So, here are a few, brief and broad observations I've had so far from studying chapters 1-9:

• Jesus loved food.  And he loved to feed people with it.  He fed 5000+, 4000+ people at once, placed eating as high priority before and after healing kids, and compared the Pharisees and Herod to yeast.  He also wasn't at all picky with the people he chose to break bread with.  
• Jesus healed. A lot.  So far, aside from doing some cool, miracley things like walking on water and divinely leading massive catering events, the most frequent act of Jesus has been healing people.  Sometimes it's as passive as having his power go out through the touch of a "unclean" woman, other times he really gets hands on (hehe...get it?) with the act.  Often the book talks about crowds gathering, throngs of people around Jesus wanting to be healed or to have a loved one be healthy.  The picture I get is a motley of dirty, broken people who may have been shunned away from society and consequently didn't have the acceptable social skills. Yet he never shirked away from healing them and making them whole.
• The Man got around.  He didn't minister idly, that's for sure.  I stopped following his tracks on a map after a while, but he was constantly going somewhere.
• The disciples didn't get any holier.  If anything, so far their biggest sign of devotion and faith is in the beginning, when they left everything that they had to follow him.  They also start to sound more petty, arguing who's the greatest among themselves and asking Jesus about healing done by someone who wasn't "one of them."  Not surprisingly, this has been a source of great comfort for me because it tells me that God still willing to use immature, self-absorbed, and imperfect people (after a good smack on the head, of course).

the cost of free grace

I've started reading What's So Amazing About Grace? and The Cost of Discipleship almost concurrently, and something struck me while I was talking to K yesterday about the former book.  In Bonhoeffer's (my new hero, by the way) Discipleship, he opens the book with a huge bang (I had to repeatedly remind myself to breathe while reading chapter 1) about the cost of grace.  He defines "cheap grace" as a mere "doctrine, a principle, a system" and "the justification of sin without the justification of the sinner."  He argues that true, costly grace that "has to be protected from the world" requires utmost obedience and discipleship of the recipient.  Costly grace, which cost the Giver that which is most precious, is not to be taken lightly or carelessly by the recipient.  It's not cheap stuff.

In his quite amazing book (my favorite, along with Brave New World), Philip Yancey paints the beauty of grace by sharing stories- stories of grace given not easily, yet freely to those who don't necessarily deserve it.  His overarching argument is that grace is amazing because it's for everyone, from the most righteous to the not-so-righteous, like you and I.  This seemingly juxtaposed views of grace intrigued me.  On one hand, a martyred pastor stresses the hard-won costliness of grace, while another follower of Christ, 60 years later, emphasizes the fact that it's available to everyone, even to the lowest scum of the earth.

How can something be costly and freely given at the same time?  That's not how this world works.  When something is given for free, it's because it's not worth very much.  Insurance companies give out highlighters and keychains for free because it's a nifty marketing ploy and because it's hella cheap.  But would they ever waive premiums and grant all their customers life insurance for free?  Preposterous!  That may be the stupidest business plan in the history of business plans.  On the flip side, things are often more precious, more costly when they're rare.  That's the whole idea of producing "limited edition" cars, DVDs, dolls, you-name-it, right?  People are willing to pay more for limited edition Hans Solo and Chewbacca figures.  I call that completely absurd, but there are probably things (books, perhaps?) that I'd be willing to pay more for (given that I have that kind of $$ to throw away) because there are less of them in the world.

So then what's up with grace?

...Is it possible that grace is costly precisely because it's freely given and made available to all?  The grace that was won with the most costly Sacrifice has the power to break the bounds of time and give life to those from the past, the present, and the future.  It's ever more precious because this is good news to all.  To sacrifice one's life for a friend is noble, but to redeem an entire humankind can only be Divine.  I still don't know how this makes sense- it completely screws with the laws of supply and demand.  The demand for redemption is always high and dire, but there is always more than enough supply of grace to match the need.  Yet that abundant, freely given grace is what calls us to give up everything that we have and follow.  Sometimes the way God works is so upside down that my brain hurts.

On a completely tangential note, on Sunday my 13 yr old bro asked me, "Hey noona, today is the day that Jesus was erected, right?"  Innocently casted innuendo aside, I realized after some minutes of guffawing that he pretty much got it down theologically.  Erection, resurrection, to-may-to, to-mah-to.

i'm not dead

I just haven't blogged in a while.  It's not because I have nothing to blog about.  Quite on the contrary, this extended period of unemployment has allowed even more space for my brain to roam about and find stimulation in many different topics.  So at any point in time, I have about 3-5 blog entries being written in my head.

Unfortunately, that's where it stops.  What sounds so deep, witty, and insightful internally often ends up sounding...not like the above when I sit myself in front of my laptop.  There must be something wrong with my laptop.

Writer's vanity aside, I've been struggling with the whole idea of blogging.  There just seems to be so much junk in the world of Internet.  Everyone wants to be heard, but how much of it all is really worth remembering?  What do I bring to my tiny online niche that does more than just add insignificant blip?

I haven't been able to answer the questions above.  But you know, exchanging ideas is a beautiful gift of the Internet, and I decided that I should continue sharing mine.  If anything, this forces me to articulate my ideas so that my thoughts won't sound so shallow or un-witty or un-insightful when the time comes that I have to share, whether I want to or not.

I'm not sure why I felt obligated to justify my blogging on my blog.  But I do want to thank my two faithful readers for reminding me that there are people who read this, not because they want some deep revelation, but because they care about me and what's going on in my life.  Thanks, guys.  I'll be back soon.

the road back home

When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed.

Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy.

Then it was said among the nations, "The LORD has done great things for them."

The LORD has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.

Restore our fortunes, LORD, like streams in the Negev.

Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.

Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow,

will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.

Psalm 126

a prayer of sorts

Below is the prologue to one of Alfred Tennyson's famous poems, "In Memoriam A.H.H.". I found this particular canto beautiful, full of awe and humility.

Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;

Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem'd my sin in me;
What seem'd my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries,
Confusions of a wasted youth;
Forgive them where they fail in truth,
And in thy wisdom make me wise.

1849.