An Atheist's Observation of Christianity in Africa

Please read this article: 

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/matthew_parris/article5400568.ece

It is quite rare to read an article like this in today's media. I was taken aback when I read the title of the article, and I was even more amazed once I finished reading it. Kudos to Matthew Parris for being honest, unashamed, and unafraid of what others might think of his synopsis. Many Christian's in Africa (or at least the ones that the author observed) are apparently succeeding in loving the Lord with all of their hearts, minds, and souls, as well as loving their neighbors as themselves. What a beautiful testimony of Christ's saving power, where even an atheist can see the work of the Spirit in action. May this be a wake up call to other Christians around the globe (including myself) to arise from a faith of apathy and live life unfettered for the Lord God Almighty. 

Let the Good Times Roll

I had surgery a week and a half ago to remove some bone that was protruding into my achilles and causing me unwarranted pain for nearly three years. I am now walking and feeling quite well. The doctor said that I will not be able to run for four to six months (liability nonsense), which means that I should be running again in two months or so. Barring the weather tomorrow, I plan to go for a nice easy bike ride. I already have visions of running and competing dancing around in my head (I had these fantasies the night before Christmas). 

It has been difficult for me not to ride my bike or run as I recuperate from my surgery. I have tried to find creative ways to burn the enormous amount of energy contained inside my body. It will not be long before I purchase my own Pilates mat and begin to exercise with a group of senior citizens at some fitness center; then I will know that I have truly hit rock bottom. At least it has been raining and freezing cold during much of my down time. My rest period has provided me ample time to catch up on the latest television shows. I did not have a functioning television in any of my dwelling places during my time at college. Now that I am living at home with my parents again, where there is a television set (no cable), I have been able to browse some of the shows that our fine networks provide us with. Not much has changed since the time I left for college. Most of these networks are still plagued with vulgar and/or nonsensical "reality" shows as well as other profane and/or unoriginal television shows. Not to say that I dislike all of television, as I do enjoy such shows as "the Office" and ... that is about it (there is another show that entertained me, but its title fails me at the moment). Anyhow, Merry belated Christmas to all.  

The Beauty of Friendship

Planet Earth is an incredible yet very complex and frightening place to inhabit. A brief perusal through any local or international newspaper reveals both the horrors and wonders of daily life. Stories of violence and sickness are oftentimes juxtaposed with accounts of peace and prosperity. I find it interesting--and also very unsettling-- whenever there is an advertisement for clothing items or food underneath an article about poverty in some distant land. The sheer volume of this world and the things in it are enough to leave one grasping for answers as to what life is all about. 

Aside from the enormity and confusion that defines the world in which human beings exist lies a beautiful and comforting phenomenon: the ability of organisms to relate with one another. Incredibly, plants, fungus, insects, mammals, and so forth, all have contact with each other in some way or another. This is a complete miracle by God Almighty, and it allows all life forms to maintain at least some level of sanity while they dwell on Earth. Although I am a lover of all forms of nature, my favorite mode of communication involves other humans such as myself. This, however, has not always been the case. 

For the majority of my life, until my junior year of college, I did not mind being a loner. My focus was athletics, and I was not going to let fellowship with other people get in the way of me achieving my goals. The truth is, I was quite a lonely guy--I just didn't know it. Running and schoolwork consumed most of my time, so I rarely experienced the emotions that go along with being isolated from others. It also helped that I was deathly afraid of approaching girls, and that I felt too awkward to introduce myself to a group of guys, especially when they had their clan already formed. Only at night, especially on Friday, did I feel alone and depressed. 

Once I acquired a nagging injury that placed my running career in jeopardy, I began to fraternize with other individuals more frequently. I went to a Bible study on Tuesday nights as well as church on Friday and Sunday. I immersed myself in fellowship, and it was a beautiful thing. Verily, it is not good for man to be alone. 

Unfortunately, from the expressions that I observe on many people's faces, countless individuals are in dire need of friendship. The pain and sorrow that people experience on a daily basis makes my heart swell in grief. These are individuals that are in my own family, neighborhood, school, and church. If God grants me the time here on earth, I will undoubtedly experience much agony in my own life. As long as sin exists in this world, so will the suffering that accompanies it. It is in these times especially that sincere relationships based off of honesty and trust become ever more important.

Lord, allow me to find others that are rooted in You. Protect me from the sin of pride and humble me for Your glory. Help those in distress seek Your face, and place Your saints in their midst. Until the glorious day of Your return, hallelujah. Amen. 

The Quest for Knowledge in a University Setting

Disclaimer: The following remarks are not based off of any statistical or scientific research. They are purely speculative and represent the author's personal observations of homo sapiens throughout academia. 

A large percentage of young men and women educated in the university system become shaped by their respective institution. If a person attends a school where liberal faculty dominate the classroom, it is likely that he or she will espouse liberal dogma. The same example can be applied to an individual who attends a conservative institution. Of course, this phenomenon is practically unavoidable. Where else is a student supposed to acquire knowledge. Hopefully not Wikipedia or any other pseudo-scholarly Web site. The main problem is that many students take to heart what their professor's spew out in class. Undoubtedly, one should have faith that his or her professor is presenting the truth in lectures. Nevertheless, a student should never base his or her entire belief system on the authority of a teacher. Sadly, as we move further into the twenty-first century, a disturbing number of university students are shedding their belief in Christ in favor of "rational" thought and empirical evidence. Personal convictions are replaced with feelings of confusion and uncertainty. Relativism reigns in many university circles, and truth has become obsolete. Is this a problem? With an emphatic YES, I believe so. The following is a story to convey my point:

John Berkeley believes that he knows all about religion, politics, and science after taking courses related to the three topics. John loves to flaunt his newfound knowledge to all of those around him. He is, of course, now an authoritarian on all subjects relating to the aforementioned topics. He cannot believe how ignorant he was prior to entering college, and laughs at all of the uneducated people he meets. If only those ignorant people could take a class on comparative religions from Dr. Pompous. After all, Dr. Pompous received his doctorate from Princeton University! 

Unfortunately, John feels empty inside. He wins most arguments that he partakes in, or so he thinks, but they bring him no lasting fulfillment. What's more, Dr. Pompous died yesterday. Dr. Pompous spent the majority of his life attempting to prove one simple truth: that truth cannot be known . He wrote thirty-seven books and two hundred articles in peer-reviewed journals that were read by approximately one thousand people. What legacy did he leave behind? Oh yes, the legacy that lives on in students like John Berkeley. John is eternally grateful to Dr. Pompous, and he has a bright future in the field of academia. How blissful it will be when he too faces mortality and reunites with Dr. Pompous at the clear oasis of reason, enlightenment, and logic. 

John hopes that he will be able to witness the prevalence of reason over faith in his lifetime. What a glorious day that will be! When he has children, John will make sure not to brainwash them with fairy tales and myths of an all-loving and all-powerful God. Instead, he will brainwash his children with reason, and science books will line their book cases. If his son or daughter asks him what created all of the magnificent things in nature, John will make sure that he or she realizes that it all happened naturally by chance--and that the earth and human beings are not that special or unique. John fails to realize that children six thousand miles away in China are raised in the same way that he plans to raise his kids. He also chooses to disregard the fact that many of them jump for joy when they learn that there is a God--and that He walked this earth, was crucified, and rose again over two thousand years ago to pay a ransom for their sins. John would like to believe that such a tale really occurred, as it would fill a significant void in his soul. Unfortunately, John is a product of reason, and doing such an act would be akin to suicide. Imagine what his fellow colleagues would do if they found out that he believed in such a thing. Besides, for the most part, John likes being his own god. He does not have to answer to a higher authority, only himself--and that is so liberating! Thus, John will continue to allow his faith in reason to trump his deep-rooted and unceasing longing for faith in God Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth. Amen. 

"For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: 

    

    'I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, 

And bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.'

Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe." (1 Corinthians 1:17-21 NKJV) 

Word's of Wisdom for the Upcoming Election

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CFlfc2VkN0

Although I do not agree with everything that John Piper has to say in this video, specifically with his assertion that we should not get “so worked up” if our opponent is elected into office, it should serve as an important reminder to all followers of Christ that the entire cosmos is under God’s jurisdiction. Besides, I don’t know about you, but I am unexcited about any of the several candidates running for president of the U.S.A. Each and every one of them appears to be fueled by avarice and pride. I wonder how many minutes per day each aspirant stands in front of a mirror marveling at his or her own complexion and speaking skills. I would also like to know how many corrupt individuals are going to commit suicide after their respective nominee does not get chosen for the presidency and their wealth crumbles; or, how many unscrupulous persons are going to be living the high life after their candidate does in fact get selected. 

Fountain Valley

Fountain of fornication. Work day ends at six o'clock. A man trades his silky black slacks  for denim jeans. A woman kicks off her high heels for comfort. Cute little toes sink into the carpet of an SLR Roadster. Two quick phone calls create another long work night. Madeline and Barry are waiting in their pajamas for daddy to come home. Not today, and not next Wednesday either. Go to sleep now you two. Robert and his dad eat another microwave fare alone. Mom is not home to cook the chicken. The bird sits idly in the freezer collecting a mighty odor. Stench of food and stench of lies. Here's to sleeping alone dad! The sound of a reality show blares throughout an abandoned house. Chad and Tara are calling it quits. Feed the flesh at a Hollywood club. Bubble pits and girly drinks make for a fun night. Live life with no regrets!  

Fountain of greed. Another million dollar house in foreclosure. A young couple couldn't afford the payments. Shouldn't have bought that Hummer darling. Try fitting that yellow behemoth in parking spot #34. Girl just came home with a bagful of clothes. Times aren't that tough are they? Are they really? Cut up another platinum. Order a new one. A $1,000 credit limit shall do for now. Dress up in sexy spandex. Curves here we come. Reward: Jamba Juice and a bakery treat. Place Dolce & Gabbana's on top of head. It's night time. Protect the forehead from moon radiation. Living in the I.E. ain't so bad for now. Boy is trying to get promoted at insurance agency. Nice condominium in the OC went down in value. Price: $3,000 a month. Trash included. Nice pool to boot. Visit Saddleback Church for inspiration and a clear conscience. 

Fountain of vanity. Young dolls walk around with Pomeranian puppies. Surgeons did well. From B to C to double D, fight, fight, fight. Old dolls given new life. Wrinkles disappear for another seven months. Puffy lips and no more big hips. Bags under eyes become bright new lies. Spider web veins vanish with the sweep of a laser. Contribute to the economy while benefiting yourself! Doctor's have got to eat. New pills change chemicals in the brain. No more sad days. Happy, happy, happy, all of the time! Counteract that side effect with another dose of fluoxetine. She wants to be her and her wants to be she. Jealousy and rage masked by a waxy smile and cute hello. Conversing with dolls is hard. Hello. Goodbye. Pull my string again. 

Tom

A noble veteran of custodianship, Tom and his stories had the power to dazzle an unflappable Stoic. Simon Bolivar would have undoubtedly perceived that Tom was 50% Colombian. When I first met him, however, I thought that he was an average white man with a mustache. My assumptions were fostered by the very nature of his last name--"O'Connor". Then I heard him speak perfect Spanish. Gradually, I began to recognize the "Colombian" in him--whatever that means. His eyes and mouth clearly conveyed his Latin American roots. To be sure, Tom could have told me that he was from Venezuela or Brazil and I would have believed him just the same. 

Tom had been a custodian at Cal Poly for at least twenty years. He no longer cleaned the dorms (which he had done for around 15 years), but instead drove a small white pick-up truck around the campus, completing nearly every maintenance task in the dorms known to man. I am serious. Among other things, he did electrical work, fixed broken beds, replaced fluorescent lights, put closet doors back on their tracks, and kept vacuums and carpet shampooers running smoothly. When I got the chance to ride along and work with him, I savored every moment. He showed me the insides of machines and explained how they worked, even their most intricate details. He further stressed how important it was to properly maintain machinery, and how by doing so one could greatly extend the life of a motor-propelled object. I estimated that Tom had saved the university thousands of dollars during his tenure there. Tom was an original Gregor Mendel as well, and he loved to share with me the numerous benefits of plants on campus. One time we stopped at an aloe vera plant, where he subsequently broke off a piece of the plant, split it in half, and ate the gel in the middle. He stated that the plant had a number of vitamins in it, and that when ingested it was good for the body. No doubt he could have survived in the wild.

  Besides being one of the most intelligent individuals I have ever known, Tom had a work ethic that was unparalleled. Similar to Alfredo, Tom worked two jobs. He co-owned his own custodial business. Beginning at two o'clock in the morning, he cleaned businesses and health centers in the area. He finished around six o'clock in the morning, just in time to prepare for his next job. He made his twelve-mile roundtrip commute to Cal Poly by bicycle every day of the work week, regardless of the conditions. 

 Tom never took lunch breaks, and he usually worked overtime--without pay. He did all of this only to be treated like dirt by upper-management. Another custodian once told me that, for several years, Tom was making the exact same amount as other custodians ($28,000 a year). Well, all of the custodians didn't believe that this was right, especially considering that he did more work and had greater skills than they did. So, in 2004 or thereabout, they all protested Tom's meager salary. Well, their objections were heard and Tom now makes a whopping $30,000 a year. Amazingly, he never once complained about these disparities.

  Prior to arriving on California's central coast in the 1980's, Tom worked at a rose farm in Hawaii. It was here that he surfed until the sun went down and socialized with the locals for the rest of the night. He also befriended the inventor of Morey Boogie. He moved from his beloved island only because his wife wanted to be close to her family in California. Now that's dedication. As of a few months ago, Tom had visited every continent but Africa. Before he met his wife, Tom lived in New Zealand for a few years and worked in construction. I know that he briefly lived in a few other countries, but I am not sure which ones. In the midst of all his travels, he struck up a friendship with the adoptive father of the woman who created EBONY magazine. Apparently, her father was a priest at some Episcopalian church. I don't know if that is where Tom met the man. 

Tom loved his wife, and he had two very accomplished daughters. One daughter was a Spanish teacher at an elementary school in SLO, while his other daughter was a model. The latter lived in Paris, but travelled all over the world. Tom told me that she had graced the pages of ELLE and Glamour, among other fashion magazines. I once met Tom and his teacher-daughter at Trader Joe's. She could have been a model too. 

Tom lived in an apartment by one of my friend's houses. Both times I saw him, he was playing with his grandkids. Whenever the weekend came around, I would ask Tom what he was going to do. His answer was always predictable. "In the morning I am going to ride my bike to the beach and surf for a while," he would say. "After that I am going to play with my grandkids." Fortunate kids indeed. 

If I saw Tom in the morning, I usually asked him how he was doing. Like everything else about his regimented life, his reply was always the same: "Doing good, it's another day." That is how Tom dealt with life, one day at a time. No worrying about tomorrow. No complaining about issues that were beyond his control. According to Tom, life was a gift from God to be enjoyed no matter what obstacles a person encountered in life. Tom lived as a humbling testament to this assertion, and I miss him dearly. 

 

Alfredo

Always donning a black or navy Nike ball cap, Alfredo was the most humorous of all the custodians I had the chance to work with. He was as slender as the Pall Mall's he smoked at every break, and his leathery Filipino skin served as a testament to his beloved habit. He liked to be alone, but the scent of his cigarette wafting from behind walls or around corners always gave away his location. Whenever I found him, we would exchange insults at each other and then depart or have a short serious conversation. Alfredo frequently spoke in Spanish, and he took great pleasure in calling me a liar (mentiroso) or lazy (flojo). How does one respond to such an attack? 

The lifestyle that Alfredo lived left me humbled and appreciative. From what I gathered, he had two children and a wife. After his custodial job, which lasted from 7:30 a.m. until 4:00 p.m., he worked at a local onion field from 5:00 p.m. until 11 or 12 at night! Yes, he had to work under the lights. Nevertheless, Alfredo claimed that he liked to work. "The work is not too hard," he would stress. "There is nothing better to do." I suppose he had a point. Better to make money than spend it on some fleeting form of entertainment. Better to spend time working than waste it on a gluttonous feast of food and television.  

I have the impression that his wife worked similar hours, though I never found out where. I am still perplexed as to how his children coped with such a limited presence of their father and mother. Who knows, maybe they were old enough to be in college; or maybe they too were realizing the American dream through an endless bout of toil. 

Valezca

One of the sweetest and most sincere individuals I have ever met, Valezca came to Cal Poly from Guatemala. I will never forget her perfectly round and youthful face, which was highlighted by her constant smiling and unique laugh.  She had the cutest dimples, and they animated her face every time she cracked a smile or laughed her deep chuckle. These features went along perfectly with her 5' 1" medium-sized frame.

Valezca loved the Lord, and frequently read her pink Bible at break time. The Bible was written in Spanish, and I learned that it was a gift from a close friend--which made it all the more special to her. Valezca had two children, a son and a daughter, and both were pre-teens. She always told me that she wanted to raise them up in Christ, but that it was a hard task to accomplish since they were surrounded by so much secularism at school and on television. During the summer, she usually sent her two children to Guatemala to visit their grandparents and other relatives. She told me that they would always come back to the States with a newfound appreciation for what they had, and that their incessant pleas for the latest and greatest material possessions would subside for a few weeks. 

Valezca worked hard, and she was a clear leader. She was very close to the other women who worked with her, and most of them looked up to her. She played the role of custodian/counselor well, and several lives were undoubtedly affected in a positive way by her caring and calm demeanor. She cared about me, and was deeply interested in my life; I know this because she remembered nearly everything that she asked about me. When it was my birthday, she orchestrated a plan to buy me a gigantic birthday cake at a well-known bakery in San Luis Obispo (I might add that nearly all of the custodians pitched in to buy me the cake despite their $28,000 per year paychecks). 

I miss visiting with Valezca and having her laugh at my ill attempts to converse with her in Spanish. She told me that I should go to Guatemala and stay with her family for a while; and believe me, if someone bought me a plane ticket, I would be there quicker than she could dimple.

Blue-Collar Nostalgia

While a student at Cal Poly, I held a part-time campus job as a custodian. I mainly worked inside the dorms. Management usually spared student workers from the grizzliest tasks--such as cleaning the bathrooms on Monday--requiring us instead to perform typical chores like vacuuming and mopping stairs. The dirty work was left to the full-time workers. I always felt horrible when these individuals had to clean vomit and human excrement off of a floor or sink because some immature freshman decided to drink too much alcohol and become senile in an over-zealous attempt to beat a senior at beirut or some other novel drinking game at Chad's frat party.  

I had the incredible fortune of becoming acquainted with several of these full-time custodians. In the coming week, I am going to share my experiences with some of them. As my outlook on life was deeply affected by these individuals, I look forward to reminiscing on my time spent with them. Stay tuned...

Fall Is Upon Us

A glorious mist of fog greeted my awakening eyes for the second day in a row. I am hoping that this is Fall's way of ushering out Summer. Who knows. I have been wrong about this before. Better not get my hopes up. Around this time last year I thought that my achilles tendon had been healed. Little did I know that the angry monster in my foot was using the down-time to plot his worst attack yet.