Blog From the Gog

Game On

2005-09-08T09:17:00.000-07:00

Here are some shots of a video game I've been making. That's why there haven't been blog entries lately. The game has some pretty good AI now: non-player characters have line-of-sight, memory, and navigation. Without revealing too much about the nature of the game, it's a Christian game, based on the practical application of scripture. The shareware version should be ready by Christmas, 2005.

Myth

2005-08-25T08:52:00.000-07:00

I'm writing a screenplay that has a lot of myth in it. Kazakhstan is full of fresh ideas. This first picture is their national symbol--a unicorn. It's found on their official state seal, their money, and on the side of this lottery kiosk. What struck me was that the unicorn horn angles backward, which makes a lot more sense physiologically than having a horn protruding out of the front of an equine skull. There are, in fact, goats, whose horns twirl together to form one horn. So, the unicorn may not have been so mythical after all. Most of our western ideas about the unicorn come from Greek myth, but the Kazakhs' culture comes from the Persians, who came before the Greeks. So, this central asian rendition of the mythical creature is completely free from Greek influence. Coincidence? The second picture is of the Golden Prince, who may have actually been a princess. It is interesting that this spiritual warrior from the sky comes riding in on a winged leopard. Psalms 18:10 says, "And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind."

Video game.

2005-08-21T09:42:00.000-07:00

I'm making a spiritual-based, christian video game. It should rock. Here's a picture.

A lot's happened...

2005-08-21T09:33:00.000-07:00

...in just a few short days. We went last weekend to the mountains to get away. The cabin we stayed at had a Russian sauna, which is very much like an American sauna, except you cover your body in honey and beat it with a cluster of oak leaves, called a "vainic." It felt great. It felt great to get out, too. I guess you're suppossed to run--according to Russian tradition--to the nearest cold body of water and jump headlong in. The place we were at had a private pool and it was surrounded by lush vegitation and beautiful flowers. As we were heading from the sauna to the pool, I found out that hornets like flowers, and there were lots of hornets busily buzzing about. Apparently hornets like honey better than flowers and it wasn't long before they were buzzing about me. Well, long story short, I stayed in the sauna.

Back in Black

2005-08-12T10:51:00.000-07:00

I have the best wife ever. Here is a picture of me and my birthday present. My dad bought me my first guitar at 6. I was very sad when I had to sell it to make ends meet, while living in LA. I really didn't pursue getting another one, and I don't know why. But today, I'm very happy because my wife surprised me with this beautifully-made German acoustic. Rock on!

Anaglyphs

2005-08-08T06:57:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, Natasha and I went to see Shark Boy and Lava. It was her first 3d experience. We both liked the movie, and hope that we can see something in 3d with a little more grown-up plot. You even get a pair of free glasses with your movie ticket. I was pretty excited about the whole experience, so we grabbed our camera and took off to the park to capture Almaty in 3d.

Our Wedding

2005-08-03T19:52:00.000-07:00

Last week, we had our two-month anniversary of being married. When we had the first-month anniversary, that's when I found out we were observing our anniversary month-by-month. Thank goodness I've got a great wife, because I didn't get in trouble too much. But I did get a little stuffed dog as a gift to put by my computer to remind me of my wonderful wife and also that I forgot my first-month anniversary. After awhile, the little dog's guilt-inducing stare got to me, so he no longer resides on the computer, but with his friends: a gorrila, two bears and a blue poodle. Anyway, these are pictures of our wedding. The photographer was amazing because he was running video footage and taking pictures at the same time. (This is a very Russian thing to do.) I don't know how he did it, but the video footage and the pictures turned out very well. The group photo is full of people from a town called Ust-Kamenogorsk. During the cold war, Ust-K was the town where all the nuclear scientists hung out. So nothing in that town refers to Ust-K, and every building has the name of a different city, to prevent espianage or something. My friends there in that town who came to our wedding are very nice, and it was a great time. No one danced the Russian squatting-dance thing, though.

Great Plains?

2005-07-27T09:29:00.000-07:00

If you live in between the Rockies and the Mississippi, then you can appreciate the similarity of these shots of Kazakhstan, taken from a train. Miles and miles of fenced plains, and badlands, strips of road and telephone poles. There's also the occassional gravel pit and cemetary. But the cemetaries on this side of the world are Muslim.

Stamps

2005-07-23T03:50:00.000-07:00

Here's some stamps from Natasha's dad's collection. The first picture has some Renaissance-looking stamps. The next set is from the space race in the 60's. Apparently the Russians were just as excited about space as we were back then. The last set is a very Charlie Russle-looking stamp. It is ironic how art can portray the same ideas, even from cultures as diverse as the USA and the former USSR.

The Storybook Boy

2005-07-20T05:28:00.000-07:00

Today, I'm finishing up a DVD of an animation I did a few years ago. There's some interest in it.

Building pics

2005-07-20T05:25:00.000-07:00

Praying for a House

2005-07-18T08:28:00.000-07:00

Natasha and I want to get a house. We’ll write down all the necessities we foresee in the next few years and maybe even draw a couple of things, (like how many bedrooms, and what else we want) and then pray over it. I won’t go into debt, so we will have purchase the house outright. Although we don’t own that much money right now, we have faith. Over the last couple of years, I’ve been doing some design and building. Although I don’t want to physically build the house, we would like to design it and have it built. But there is a little ambiguity regarding a brand-new house, because there is a lot of hassle making sure it gets built correctly. Although I’ve been a foreman on small projects, I don’t speak the language and it seems such a venture would only prove taxing on my wife. All things considered, it is probably better to purchase a house that has already been made. But we will be as specific as we can in describing our house today, so that when it comes, God will be glorified. And people will say, “Wow, God really is real!”

Spacers

2005-07-16T10:39:00.000-07:00

I'm finishing an animation called Spacers. It will be submitted to the New York Television Festival this summer. I hope I win!

Our New Washer

2005-07-14T09:07:00.000-07:00

We just got a washing machine. (It s the big topic at our house right now) and it runs quite well. It s new, but that's "no
indication." We found a couple of guys who can do plumbing. We had no idea if they were plummbers or not, but they could do
it. They did a good job, but said that we needed to get a guy who could rewire the house (not necessarily an electirician, just
somebody who could do it). Until then, we could run the washer in the dark, with no lights on or anything plugged in. So far,
I've done one load of wash a day for a week. We are almost caught up, but now there is no place for the clean clothes, what with two people living here. So we re thinking of getting some guy who can build some shelves (not necessarily a carpenter) and we'll take it from there.

Kazakhstan: Star Wars?

2005-07-12T02:01:00.000-07:00

Here's two pictures of interest in Kazakhstan. The first one is a monolithic building which looks like a starship hanger from the Death star, or possibly the rebel base/temple from the 1977 Star Wars. The second features a smooth architecture I've not seen anywhere else, also remeniscient of a Star Wars scene: Cloud City. I wonder if it's required that great movies have to stem from Kazakh culture?

Moats and Stuff

2005-07-10T10:06:00.000-07:00

Here are some interesting architectural qualities of Kazakhstan. The first picture is taken in an underground tunnel. These tunnels go under the streets at intersections, to cut down on pedestrian traffic. In these tunnels are shops and what not--kind of like underground strip malls. Interestingly, the architecture looks very Dwarven. The second and third pictures are of moats--there are actual streams that run in between the streets and the sidewalks. There are bridges that span them, and to get to most shops and stores, you need to cross one of these bridges. The last picture is of a typical apartment complex. Note that the buildings were built with structures spanning between them, and as time goes on, people expand their apartments out onto these structures. Some apartments are very modern, some are not. All-in-all, a very asian approach to housing, not unlike the structures in Blade Runner.

How KZ is like LOTR

2005-07-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

This is a reprint from a month ago, when no pictures were available.

I've been taking pictures of architecture around Almaty. It s amazing how much it looks like Lord of the Rings. When the USSR started building in Almaty, they borrowed from Kazakh designs and customs, which were mainly the symbol of the antler and the slightly-trapezoidal shape of their nomadic homes. When these design elements were incorporated into brick and iron, they became like the elven and dwarven design motifs found in LOTR. The first pic is a hotel that looks remarkably like the evil tower of Saroman. The second is a general monolithic building. It's rock was hewn from the Caspian sea, and if you look at it up close, you can see the impressions of seashells in it. The third picture is of a gazebo right out of an elven town. This are a good example of a mesh of Kazakh culture and Soviet industry. Next we have an elvish design in the actual sidewalk. In Ust-K, a town in northern Kazakhstan, there are shops whose sidewalks are comprised entirely of such designwork. The next picture is of some high arches, maybe found in Minis Tereth, or that other town that got all blown up by the river in LOTR2. The final picture is a great example of dwarven architecture found in Almaty. The patterns on both the wrought-iron fence and the building are Kazakh antler patterns, but they have been "square-ized." The cap of the building angles out just a little, which is an inversion of the trapazoidal "tee-pees" (called Yurkas) of the Kazakhs. Also, the cap looms out over you, ominous and overpowering--the greed of the dwarves? or the communist party. You decide.

2005-07-04T20:29:00.000-07:00

A Couple of Pictures

2005-07-04T20:05:00.000-07:00

I'm cheating today, because there's no time left. Here are two cool pictures from Kazakhstan. Probably, when I think about it, it's way better than constant rambling. Hey, it's easier, too. The first is a picture of a billboard for StarWars III. It was kind of funny to see it with all the Russian letters. The second is a statue of the Golden Warrior. He's a guy from Kazakh mythology who rides a winged leopard. It's not unlike the depiction of God in Ezekial, who rides on four wing-ed creatures, a man, an ox, a lion, and an eagle. Apparently, they actually uncovered a tomb containing the golden armor of this supposed mythological Golden Warrior.

How I Became a Teacher

2005-07-02T00:26:00.000-07:00

I've been sick. Is that a good enough excuse for not doing anything for 3 weeks. On an upnote, (is that a word?) blogger has upgraded their photo potential, so hopefully we'll be seeing more photoes on my blog. Cause there's some cool stuff here.

It was very much a miracle how I became a teacher at a university here in Kazakhstan. Before I came to Kazakhstan, Natasha and I were brainstorming about possible occupations and she looked into some production (entertainment) companies and her own workplace. A friend of ours had taught English at a university, with no degree. So we thought that I could probably do that, too. Well, we didn't pursue it any farther than that. She met an American by accident and he was a teacher at a university. She bumped into him a couple more times by chance during the next month or so, so we started to pay attention to this individual and I emailed him a few times concerning culture and opportunities and what he was doing as a teacher. It turns out he ran a drama team within the university as a way to teach English. I had been a player in a drama team for 3 years, so this peaked my interest even more. In fact, I had just been praying “What will I do in Kazakhstan? Is there any entertainment industry there?” Later on, when I arrived to Kazakhstan, I called him for no other reason than I said I would, and out of the blue he said "Do you want a job?" The job was not working with him, but it was at the university where he worked. I went to that department and interviewed. Unfortunately, the university was trying to get international certification, so every employee needed a diploma, and, not having one, I thanked the man and started to leave. As he was escorting me to the front doors, we bumped into yet another ex-patriot. This man ran a foreign language school within the university, and it wasn't necessary to have a diploma in order to teach in his program. He interviewed me and I started the next week. God orchestrated the whole thing. The only thing I had to do was step where He was pointing. With the confidence of working at a big university under my belt, I was able to run an advertisement in the newspaper as a private instructor, and received many phone calls, and a few students. And all the money from these jobs helped pay for the wedding. It was so specific and miraculous, that it made a big impact on the way I think about how God treats me. Now, I seek His plan for this next season.

The Honeymoon

2005-06-13T22:09:00.000-07:00

Turkey is full of Germans, and Germany, Turks. Apparently both countries think the other has more to offer. During my week on the coast of the Mediterranean, I was spoken to mostly in German, as I have blonde hair. I was mistaken only once for a Russian. They thought I was from Siberia because I had no tan. By lineage, I’m a quarter German, but by language skills, I’m probably negative 10% German. So, most of my conversations with the staff went something like this: STAFF PERSON: “Auchtung nine sprechen zee weinerschnitzel, ya.” ME: “I don’t speak German.” STAFF: “Oh. Where are you from?” ME: “I’m American.” STAFF: “Oh. I live in England.” It was surprising to find the number of Turks who were working at the hotel, living in Turkey, but were from some other country. I felt like I was in Los Angeles, where everyone is an actor. The hotel was clean and the patrons were civilized, which is a plus because the internet claimed the Russians will knife you in the disco. To the contrary, the Russians were not so violent as they were a little confused because no one was jostling them in public, or extorting them in the parking lot. Even though everyone was in swimsuits, you could still tell who was from what country--the Germans were the one’s with the naked children and the Russians were the ones in gold chains and cab driver hats. And the Kazakhstanis were the ones who, upon discovering I was American, upped their price for scuba diving: “Oops, I made a mistake. It’s $65, not $60.” The French were represented by the entertainment manager. On the first night, he sang us an anti-war/pro-gay song. The next night was a very French performance of the Phantom of the Opera meets the Rocky Horror Picture Show--you know, the one where the Phantom turns gay at the end. For some reason, we never saw the entertainment director after that night, and the “Phantom” placards and advertisements were quickly taken away. Without their director, the Russian performers resorted to crotch grabbing, to the delight of their fellow countrymen in the audience. But the Germans thought it was a political statement and took it all very seriously. Why we kept going back there, I don’t know. It’s the downside to having hope, I guess. There was one Italian at the hotel. He was the goal-keeper in the daily water polo matches. Being Italian, he alllied with the Germans against the Russians. Being American, I had the choice of playing against everyone. But thankfully, the Germans let me on their team. Russians, Germans, Italians, Americans, Turks--at one point or other in history, we were all enemies. But these days, we can all play water polo together, reminding each other in brotherly love that “It’s only a game.” But after a couple of games, I found out that the term “It’s only a game,” is very relative, depending on where you’re from. If you’re an American, it means that you are having a fun time playing a game as a sort of diversion. If from Russia, it means you can cheat because it’s only a game. If you are from Germany, you’re a little sad that it’s only a game because the dulldrums of living a socialized lifestyle have taken away all meaning of accomplishment for your life. And if you’re Italian, you’re very vocal and emotional, taking the opportunity to swear at everyone (including the referee and yourself) because, after all, it’s only a game. Unfortunately for Turkish people, the phrase “It’s only a game,” brings up painful memories of lost soccer matches. My wife and I spent 7 days in Turkey. It was enough for us, and we were satisfied to come back. Upon our return to Kazakhstan, one of the cab drivers offered us a $50.00 cab ride, and we knew that we were home.

Bye For a While

2005-06-03T04:21:00.000-07:00

Today, my wife and I are planning for our honeymoon. We’ll be gone to Turkey for a week. Until then!

A Journey Through the Bazaar

2005-06-02T08:36:00.000-07:00

Today, we went to Baraholka. Baraholka is the garment district in Almaty. It is made out of sheds and tents, all strung together. It’s located about 30 minutes by bus on the outskirts of town, in the desert. Actually, there’s no desert there, but the wind blows so much dirt around, you’d expect to see a caravan of camels. The word “Baraholka” in Russian means “Here Comes American, Quick, Double Price.” Knowing this by experience and paying lots of double prices, I went to the garment district in my most mysterious hat and darkest sunglasses. Natasha and I agreed that I would not speak, but just lurk around mysteriously. The first guy we went to was the underwear guy. “How much?” I asked Natasha, to which the underwear guy replied, “Double.” So, we resolved that I needed to concentrate more on being mysterious. We walked a little further and found the exact same underwear for 1/3 the price. (Usually, if you agree to pay double, then the salesperson has suddenly made a mistake, and the price goes up. Whatever you agree to pay, it’s more. This is a sales technique in Central Asia. It’s not very effective but effectiveness is beside the point in this adventurous land. Some day I would like to find out if I can barter someone upwards of a few thousand dollars for an ice cream cone.) We proceeded to look for shoes for Natasha, and found out that many of the ajoining stores are owned by the same groups of people. It kind of reminded me about the Presidential elections of years-gone-by. You think one deal is way better than the other, but in reality, you’re not goining to get a raise no matter who is President. Anyway, we discovered another great sales technique--it’s the one where the salesperson tries on the shoes and exclaims that they never knew how comfortable shoes could be! I watched as two shoe-shed clerks tag-teamed my wife with actual testimonials about flying to Heaven in a pair of shoes just like the ones she should buy. I lurked mysteriously near by in my hat. Natasha asked me my opinion, but I didn’t know which language to respond in so I grunted, which was good enough for her, and we bought the shoes (and didn’t have to pay extra for the entertainment.) The final stop was for a pair of shorts for me. Central Asia has three pair of shorts, each of which is located in an adjacent shop in Baraholka owned by the same group of people, each more expensive than the next. So, Natty came up with the great idea of getting pants, and cutting the legs off. It turned out that this was even cheaper than getting a pair of shorts, so we were real excited about it. We went to a pants tent, and I lurked in the corner, pretending not to know anything. As soon as we got a price commitment from the saleslady, I emerged from the shadows to speak English freely with my wife. We found a good pair of pants and then we “tried them on.” When you try on pants in Central Asia, you stick your elbow in the waist band and if you can get your hand in too, then they fit you. It’s not that we didn’t believe the saleslady about this; it’s just that I have unusually short radius bones. The saleslady understood completely and escourted us to the dressing “room,” which is (of course) not a room at all, but the place where they keep all the pants. I’m not proud, so I took off my pants to try on the other ones. Neither Natasha nor I realized that the clerks come back to the dressing “room” about the time you have one leg off. So the three of them watched me hop around with my pants half off. We tried on several pairs of pants this way until we got a right fit. Next time, I’ll bring a tape measure.

Moving In Together

2005-06-01T02:19:00.000-07:00

I moved in with my wife. It was a lot of fun. First, we put things neatly where we thought they should go. Then, as we ran out of time, we piled stuff on the bed and in corners. Finally, after the evening winded to a hault, we had mounds of wedding gifts, guest towels, and dirty laundry piled all over the place. Of course, being the man, I knew the solution to our problem was to rearrange the furniture. So, we pulled apart as many particle boards as we could while we slid the closets and beds and stuff around on the carpet. Thoroughly tired, we decided to throw everything on the floor and go to sleep. And that would have been the end of the evening, except for the dog. No one knows where the dog lives. He lives somewhere around here. No one knows if the dog has a master or not. Because we are always listening to the dog. I mean always--he never goes inside. He is always barking. Usually, he barks for 15 minutes on, 15 off, like how they taught you to run/walk in gym class. During the day, the dog is drowned out by the pleasant sound of car alarms. The dog had barked for 3 days and 2 nights by the time we crawled into bed. And by the next morning, it was 3 nights. The dog likes to bark in an alley somewhere, and his voice is amplified by the concrete buildings. And at night, when the temperature drops, you can hear his every word. The first day, I went out to find the dog. I narrowed down his approximate location to within a few feet past a concrete fence. But before I could jump the fence, the barefoot security guard looked up from his book and told me "Nine." I guess he thought I was German. So I told him, "There's a stupid dog barking for hours now, and we can't take a nap." Barefoot Guard: "Nine." Me: "Can you shut him up or something? This is really rude, not to mention in poor taste for a country who's trying to attract western culture." "Nine." So I thanked him and walked away, adding "By the way, do you know what four plus five is?" When we returned from our wedding, I thought the guard would be gone. I waited until dark, just to make sure, and ventured out to find the neighborhood's-best-friend. But no sooneer had I set foot outside our building, than I noticed that the dumpsters were on fire. Not knowing if we were being attacked, or if this was just life-as-usual in Kazakhstan, I went inside and was content to listen to a night of barking, all the while looking forward to a full day of car alarms.

I got married.

2005-05-30T00:09:00.000-07:00

I got married a couple of days ago. It was a great day. My bride was beautiful and the people were happy. There was lots of dancing, singing, eating, and festivities.

Mosh Pit Adventure Ride

2005-05-22T23:20:00.000-07:00

Today, we stood in line for an hour to register my mom. The registration agency opens at 9 but the employees don't go to work until 10. It's a carry-over from the Soviet era--the last stand of a system of dehumanization. I feel sorry for the people who work there. It's not really their fault, and what will they do for work if all such systems are closed down? The government should implement a program to gradually change their repsonsibilities from "self-justification" to "beneficial to the people." Well, I let my voice be known, but nobody appreciated it, especially because it was getting hotter and hotter, and the B.O. level was rising. It was just like Disneyland, I thought. At 10:10, the people at the windows arrived, and you would have thought you were in a mosh pit. Having been in a mosh pit several times, I was able to protect my Mom and wife-to-be. A little window opened, about the same size that they have in medieval drawbridges to peek out at the enemy, and everyone shoved their papers at the cashier. We were first (cause we prayed a lot before going there) and afterwards, we got the full amusement park ride called "Swimming in a Sea of Angry Foreigners" as we made our way to the exit. I was only able to save my mom. My wife to be got lost in the crowd, but eventually (because of much praying) she made it out, too. It was a lot of fun and we're thankful that we will get to experience this again tomorrow when we go to pick up some more papers.

Mom in the Gog

2005-05-22T07:22:00.000-07:00

Last night, my mom arrived in Almaty. Today, Natasha and I took her to see some sites. As we approach our wedding date this Friday, the entries will become a little scant, but they will pick up in June, and probably separate into two blogs: 1 for Bible study and one about Natasha and I in Kazakhstan. Toodles.

Can Smart People Get Saved?

2005-05-21T06:05:00.000-07:00

A friend of Natasha’s will be attending our wedding, but she is not a Christian. I wanted her to feel comfortable, so I told Natasha, “Let’s not use a bunch of Christian lingo around her.” because it ostracizes non-believers and how can they be saved if there are none to go to them? Then I asked, “Is she really smart?” and Natasha told me that she was, and I learned that this person thought very similarly to the way I thought before I knew Christ. As I was relating this to Natasha, I saw that the Body of Christ suffers from a lack of smart people.
Now, if you’re not a smarty-pants, don’t get all offended. There’s a conspiracy out there that says if you’re smart, life is better for you. But this is not true at all, and especially so if you’re a Christian. Life goes better with God. And this is true regardless of income or intelligence, or beauty, or position in birth or what country you live in or who’s president or who’s trying to bomb who--or any of the other things we covet or fear (but hopefully, not). It’s true that when you are RIGHT with GOD, then you can use the gifts He’s given you for His Glory. But never make the mistake of being jealous of someone else’s gift or personal quality. Often the rich, smart, and beautiful are lonely, don’t know who to trust, and fight inferiority in themselves because they don’t live up to the image people have of them--examples of having gifts but not having God to guide you in them. So don’t idolize “smart.”
Now that we’ve cleared that out of the way, you can see that a lack of smart people in the church is just like any other ailment in the church. There’s a lack of Christianity in poor countries and missionaries dedicate themselves to bringing the gospel to them. Through their experiences, they change their approach to be more effect, like Paul being “all things to all people.” But there is no ministry, as far as I’m aware that caters to intelligent people. The Body of Christ has grabbed onto a couple of scriptures (“The meek inherit the earth.” and “God used the lowly things to shame the wise.”) and ran with it to the Nth degree, but has forgotten that salvation is for ALL people. “Thinkers” are not always leaders, but they surely can optimize a ministry’s effectiveness (if the right humble-hearted leader can see this.) Smart people can do all sorts of things for the Body of Christ. Paul was a smarty-pants, remember. After all, he wrote the Bible, and Peter says that sometimes Paul is confusing. Today, we’re still trying to figure out what Paul was saying. Paul would preach to the Greeks, the smartest people on the planet at that time, and arguably the most influential society of all human history. He probably wasn’t using little words. Now, Paul says that when he was winning people to Christ, he did not use fancy arguements but kept his message simple--Paul’s messages to the Greeks were direct and to-the-point (he had a busy schedule to keep), but they were not devoid of intelligence. They were humble--he was not trying to win the approval of men--but they were not insulting to the people’s intelligence. Witnessing should always be simple, but this doesn’t mean that it can’t be smart. We don’t know exactly what Paul said. I imagine that if today, a person were to walk into a Mensa meeting and say “Who wants Jesus as their personal savior?” they might get a taker...eventually. Not only are you working with an unintelligent presentation of the gospel, but the market is saturated--eveybody’s already been witnessed to. They’ve heard the question a thousand times. But imagine if you could meet with this group and witness to them on their terms--in their manner of thinking and speaking--keeping your message direct and simple, yet intelligent, not engaging in philosophical debates but presenting the gospel as commissioned. You would be a more effective seed-planter. And since this has never been done before, these fields are just as ripe as if they had never heard the gospel--because they probably haven’t.

The End Times Congregation

2005-05-18T03:35:00.000-07:00

Dear potential preacher: I have some wisdom from the Lord for you--some seed to scatter. Many times people with ministries burn out because of the structure of the ministry, when it is structured so they do it all. They make all the calls, send out all the emails, write all the sermons, etc. Eventually, they either burn out, or discover what Peter did in Acts. He was starting to feel the pressure and it was taking away from what he was called to do, so he appointed Stephen to take care of feeding the widows. (Acts 6) Today, our modern church structure is based on this example in Acts. We have a Senior Pastor, and some Associate Pastors, then heads of ministries, their volunteers, and the congregation. You’ll note that a sucessful business is modeled after the church--President, Vice-Presidents, Upper Management, employees, and shareholders. Not surprisingly, the growth of businesses and churches mirror one another. But there is a limit to this system of growth. There are some huge churches in the world, but they have a limit to how big they can grow. They are directly limited by the spiritual growth of the pastor. In the End Times, there will be no such limit to the church. Now, in those times, there will be no “church,” per se, like what we have today. However, there will be believers and they will congregate. These End Times congregations will be bigger than any church we have today. They will grow faster and stronger. Their prayers will availeth much, and their unity will not be easily severed. Miracles, signs, and wonders will follow them everywhere, in every condition and place in their daily lives. They’ll be everything we hoped our churches would be. Now, it’s good to know that our future brothers-in-Christ will be so well-equipped for the coming times. But I tell you these things because the structure--and power--of the End Times congregation is available today for anyone who wants it, just like the Power of the Holy Spirit with the evidence of speaking in tongues is a free gift. The structure of the End Times congregation, like a gift of the Spirit, must be claimed, and that only through humility and faith, and faith empowered by action.
The structure of the End Times congregation is found in the Bible, in Exodus and Acts. In Exodus, Moses is in charge of about a million people. They are camping out in the desert and there are arising problems among them common to all men which need attending and judging. Moses takes it upon himself to be the judge for a million people, and sits all day long, listening to their complaints. By the end of the day he is exhausted. His father-in-law hikes across the desert to see how Moses is doing, and, upon seeing the daily goings-on, gives him some sensible advice: “Appoint judges over 10’s, 50’s, 100’s, and 1000’s. If you don’t, you’ll wear away, and all the people with you.” (Exodus 18, the last half) Even though Moses had the annointing of God, his ministry had a limit to it. He was humble enough to take the advice of a sensible man, and he delegated authority, and the authority worked as a hirearchy--if a matter was too difficult for a leader of 10 to solve, it was given to a higher authority. So now, if you find yourself a pastor of a million people, you’ll know what to do. But hopefully you will see that if you want to have a ministry of a million people, there is a sensible way to structure it, found in the Bible. Even if your goal is 1000, the structure makes sense. And soberingly, a person who wants to do everything themselves suffers from arrogance. (See my entry on May 11, entitled The Economy of Preaching.) In the business world (as long as we’re giving relatable examples), this concept is called franchising. Now look at Acts 2, particularly 41-47. God has just added to the church 3000 people, and immediately they do the following things: they continue in the Word and in fellowship, and in breaking of bread (which is ACTUALLY eating together, not just hanging out), and in prayers. As a result of this, fear (which is also reverence and respect) came upon every soul: and many wonders and signs were done by the apostles. And all that believed were together (a strengthened fellowship), and had all things common and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every man had need (note: not communism. It says, “as every man had NEED.”) And they continued daily (they met every day) with one accord (strengthened unity) in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house (note: they met in the temple as Jews AND in each other’s house, similar to belonging to a church AND attending Bible studies), did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, (once more, a reference to EATING together and a strengthening of unity) Praising God, and having favour with all the people. (They had favor with ALL the people--this means UNSAVED people) And the Lord added to the church daily such as should be saved. Here’s a synopsis: they met every day, they ate, sang, prayed, and read the Word. As a result of this, their unity grew strong; favor came to them and they were able to provide for people’s needs and they had the faith to be free of their possessions; miracles were performed (healings, etc.); and every day, new believers came to this group. We will be wise to note that these believers did not meet just as one group on one day of the week, but met from house-to-house and also went to the temple. Also, we can guess that all the owners of the houses were not preachers nor seminary graduates, but were simply saved. The Message was kept simple, so that a messanger could run with it. (Habbakkuk). Well, that’s it for today.

Real Live Dungeons and Dragons

2005-05-16T06:58:00.000-07:00

Well, the pictures from the last entry aren’t showing up. I think its something about bandwidth-per-month. The wedding plans are going smoothly--Natasha and I are in agreement that stress is foolishness. Have you ever had the experience where you’re watching a movie or playing a game or something, and the main character is in peril, and you think, “This is what I’d do, if I were in such peril. This and that, blah blah blah.” I don’t know--maybe you played D&D, like I did. The Dungeon Master, your friend from Honors Algebra, says, “You enter a city. There’s lots of friendly-looking people there. They’re buying and selling things at the city gate.” You reply, “I barter for food.” DM: “A man says, ‘Two gold pieces for a chicken.’” YOU: “I buy it.” DM: “The price just jumped up to three.” YOU: “Okay...I buy it?” DM: “Now, it’s four!” This is the way Kazakhstanis do business, if you are American. Unfortunately for them, they never actually sell anything to you. They just keep jacking up the price. Greed in the hands of toddlers. But, today, they might have caught me. It started a week ago when Natasha and I went to a travel agent to buy a vacation to Turkey (That’s where everybody goes whos from the Gog). It was the 9th, our set date for purchasing our honeymoon. Of course, I tried to look anything but American, but you just can’t hide hopeful eyes. Consequently, their prices were out of our budget so they told us “Come back in a week. Maybe the prices will be cheaper.” So today, we went back (silly us) and the prices were--get this--higher. Not only that, but if we wanted to get a reservation, we had better book right away, cause it was filling up quick. So I complained to the better business bureau and the agency is under investigation. Just kidding--there’s no business beareu in Dungeons and Dragons--I mean, in Kazakhstan. But there was a happy ending. God always blesses us, prior to this day we had received enough money to make up the difference.

How Kazakhstan is Like Lord of the Rings

2005-05-14T02:28:00.000-07:00

I ve been taking pictures of architecture around Almaty. It s amazing how much it looks like Lord of the Rings. When the USSR started building in Almaty, they borrowed from Kazakh designs and customs, which were mainly the symbol of the antler and the slightly-trapezoidal shape of their nomadic homes. When these design elements were incorporated into brick and iron, they became like the elven and dwarven design motifs found in LOTR. The first pic is a hotel that looks remarkably like the evil tower of Saroman (or however you spell it.) The second is a general monolithic building, maybe more like Unreal or Quake than Lord of the Rings. It's rock was hewn from the Caspian sea, and if you look at it up close, you can see the impressions of seashells in it. The third picture is a gazebo right out of that elven town where Mister Smith lives. This is a good example of a mesh of Kazakh culture and Soviet industry. Next we have an elvish design in the actual sidewalk. In Ust-K, a town in northern Kazakhstan, there are shops whose sidewalks are comprised entirely of such designwork. The next picture is of some high arches, maybe found in Minis Tereth, or that other town that got all blown up by the river in LOTR2. The final picture is a great example of dwarven architecture found in Almaty. The patterns on both the wrought-iron fence and the building are Kazakh antler patterns, but they have been "square-ized." The cap of the building angles out just a little, which is an inversion of the trapazoidal "tee-pees" of the Kazakhs. Also, the cap looms out over you, ominous and overpowering--the greed of the dwarves? or the communist party. You decide.

A War in the Spirit

2005-05-13T05:10:00.000-07:00

Natasha and I have been praying against the powers and principalities of this former-communistic land. For a couple of months, we have been fufilling the governmental requirements to get married. It’s not like in the U.S., where you register your marriage with the government for tax purposes and rightful ownership of property upon death. Here in the CIS, you must get permission from the government to be married, and they perform the ceremony. You can see how this might erk God a little. Today, Natasha came back to me in tears because of the treatment of these people. I became very indignant, but allowed the righteousness of God to direct my actions (= righteously indignant) We prayed fiercely against the powers against us. We forgave the rude workers there and prayed for them, especially for a particular man. But we clung to the Word that says, “Every knee will bow at the name of Jesus.” I saw clearly how all the people of this area had been suffering the same as us, and God brought us to this point to pray against this power. (A power is a living spiritual entity, either a man’s or a demonic force.) When we returned later today for the umpteenth time, we noticed a change in the behavior. In all this, we did not sin by bringing false accusation or slander against these people, but we only loved them, praying for the hope of their future, and against the power that sets itself up before the Lord. Next week, we have yet another government entity to befall.

The Economy of Preaching

2005-05-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

I’m upset. Last night I watched a video tape at my Bible study of a lunatic ranting and raving about how people need to put more effort into their Christianity. He talked about Paul’s boxing and running comparatives. Before that, I heard a preacher say that, basically, teachers of the word are useless, but preachers aren’t. Before that, I heard news of two preachers who blatantly misquoted the Bible and went on from there to build a huge sermon. I remember long ago attending a Bible study. There was music and fellowship. There was breaking of bread every time we gathered. It was incredible. Our spirits soared within us all. Then the guy who was hosting the study decided that it was time to preach the word. He was terrible, and we all cringed because he usually ended up crying on his knees about how bad he was, and telling us how bad we were. It was all about him, him, him. Then we would pray for one another and it was awesome again. Consequently, the church that was sanctioning the bible studies was claiming to be a church out of the book of Acts, but totally ignored the last paragraph of Acts 2, and disbanded all the bible studies, rather than explain to the hosts that they weren’t equipped to teach the word. The church never replaced those fellowships, and the hosts, who moved to other churches, have never grown in character. All because preachers think they’re teachers. Last night, I went home from Natasha’s very tired. But when I got into bed, God filled my mind with thoughts and explanations about preachers. I guess He’s mad at the situation. I sure am, though I try not to be mad at the preachers. Preachers are arrogant, but I’m just as guilty. “It takes one to know one.” (Romans)
In Corinthians, there are listed some spiritual jobs. “God has put some guys in the church, first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, after that miracle guys, then people with healing gifts, people who are good at helping, at governing the church, and people who can speak in other languages, and in tongues and stuff.” There isn’t really a Preacher category, but that’s not my point. My point is that each one of these jobs go to a person. In the Bible, nobody is supposed to be glorifying himself by claiming to have all the gifts. Most preachers think that they are teachers, too. And this is what makes me mad. Because I’m a teacher, but there’s no room in the modern church for people like me. The preachers won’t let us. The Bible says “Where there’s no hope, the people throw off restraint.” So here is my unrestrained critique of preachers. When you ask a preacher “Of what use is a teacher?” The answer will be along the lines of “A person who gives all possible meanings for scripture, but lets the people decide what to think.” This tells me that a preacher doesn’t let people decide what to think. How is it that a spiritual job, derived from the very nature of God has become so? Is it a description of how God teaches? No, He lays before us life and death and says, “Now choose life.” He plants the Tree of Knowledge in the garden of Eden and says “Do not touch it.” Yes, He allows us to make our own choices, making us fully aware of the consequences, but He does not lay before us life and death and then say “Choose one.” But this is how preachers refer to teachers. He does not leave us orphans but He knows that we suffer because of a lack of knowledge and He wishes it were not so. In fact, if a preacher teaches but he is not equipped to do so, what is the difference in terms of the people--either they suffer because of lack of knowledge or they suffer because of the wrong knowledge. Should the preacher be rewarded for this? No. But the preacher is unrepentant because his modus operandi is greed. God teaches also by exhortation, that if a man finds himself on a bed of pain, he can cry out to God and God will TELL him what he has done wrong (not FORCE him, or BRAINWASH him, or CONTROL him) Then, if the man repents, he will be made well again. When God gives His gift of teaching to a Christian, how is it that it turns, by definition, into babbling? into luke-warm water? It does not. If it appears that it does, it is because the teacher is not matured yet. The definition of a teacher is not what preachers would like it to be. It is defined by the character of the One who gave the gift to man. A preacher’s deceptive heart warps the meaning of teaching because he is covetous about the gift and knows not what his own job is. This is jealousy and bitterness, producing arrogance. It’s the exact same thing that turned Lucifer into Satan. When preachers are rewarded in Heaven, will the merits of their teaching be accredited to them if it is not of God? No, teaching as a result of jealousy will not be accredited to them, even if it produces fruit.
The Bible speaks of two ways to gain wealth--one is through greed and the other is through the favor of God. There are no other ways. Note again, God’s setting before us two ways, and instructing us to seek the favor of God. God does not squelsh greed, though. He allows it and works it for His good, bringing glory to Himself. For what is more glorifying than something that was meant for evil being turned into something that is good. (I was a sinner, but I was made to be like Christ.) The wealth of the wicked is laid up for the just. In the same way, the spiritual economy (the rewards and treasures given in Heaven) will be awarded.
There is another thing I can’t stand--another arrogance which makes me burn. The self-declarative “Five-fold Ministry.” In this, not only has the preacher ursurped my job, but the jobs of healers, prophets, apostles, etc. Is there such a lack of well-equipped Christians? Perhaps Heaven will only be populated by preachers? Or maybe, God dis-proportionally equipped the body of Christ? No. The preacher is greedy in the spiritual realm. (It is not a sin, but what reward will he receive? He is not my friend.) Also, the preacher has let his God-given desire to preach to many nations become perverted. He has taken it upon himself to fufill the desires of his heart, and he runs himself ragged, ranting and raving about boxing and running, expecting all the people to do the same, but not really to do the same--only to wish that they could be like the preacher but never actually doing so--to become jealous of him--to worship him. But God uses this evil to grow the church. Adam ate from the tree, so God had him become a farmer in order to keep him alive. Cain killed a man, so the Lord used his greed to build the first cities. Abram was deceptive, and his grandson Jacob. God used their evil for good. Moses was a murderer, so God used him to bring about the plagues. Preachers are greedy little people, so God uses them to build the church. But it is not the best growth. There is another growth by the favor of God that is much better. (Not even 7 times better, but 7 times 77 times better!) Who does a 5-fold ministry glorify? It glorifies the preacher. It makes the preacher famous. The first thing people think is, “Wow, what a guy.” But no one thinks, “Glory to God!” or “Wow, there really is a God.” Perhaps in a remote area, where Christianity is just beginning, a humble man can glorify the Lord by receiving all of these gifts. Because people would say, “Isn’t this Joe Schmoe? How did he become like this? There must be a God. Glory to God!” Or, in a place of mature Christians, like America, Glory comes to God by the absence of a powerful person--a powerful preacher--by the absence of greed. People would say, “Have you ever seen such unity among 5 people of different strengths? Not in all the world does such a thing exist. There must be a God.”
No, today’s preachers would rather put the church into debt to build a big building so they can fill it with more people, thus exhausting themselves trying to fill an insatiable void in their hearts, all the while expecting everyone in the congregation to follow their example, citing the actions of a man who actually saw Heaven, and that not by faith but by sight, but not wanting anyone in the congregation to do anything better than themselves.
There is a better way, a way not of the world, but of the Word. It is more effective in building the Body of Christ, and faster. It is a simple and humble way, so that the poorest in spirit may be blessed. It is a rich way so as to satisfy even the deepest desires that God puts in the hearts of men.
Maybe some day teachers will be given a voice.

Waltzing Lessons

2005-05-10T08:05:00.000-07:00

Natasha and I are taking dancing lessons for our wedding. The next day, your legs are really tired and I've had icy hot on my neck for a couple of days. Natasha's feet are bruised and if she had her wedding dress on, it would have had shoe prints on it. But we have a lot of fun.

Victory Day 60th Anniversary

2005-05-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

Today was Victory Day in the CIS. It s like Veteran s Day. May 9th, 2005 is the 60th anniversary of the end of WWII. Most veterans probably won t see the 70th. I thought it interesting that, after the fall of communism, these men still held their honor. The memories of how they served are not of a political nature, but of something more meaningful that grows stronger as their last days approach.

Mother's Day Weekend

2005-05-08T08:35:00.000-07:00

Right now I m eating 100% fresh gummy worns. They were made today at a chocalate factory. It's Mother's Day weekend and Natasha and I were invited to a "new baby" party. There were lots of kids there--lots of Moms. On the way back, I took photos of Natasha by some of the brightly lit shops that line the streets of Almaty. Today we went to church in a huge hotel with--like--a 20-story flag of Kazakhstan on it. Then it rained all day. When it rains, there are torrents of water that gush down the streets, across sidewalks, because Almaty sits on a hill. Tomorrow, we ll go to our waltzing lesson for our wedding, May 27th. Hopefully there will be some graceful pictures. Toodles.

A Graphical Timeline of Genesis

2005-05-07T01:34:00.000-07:00

Here it is, Praise the Lord--A graphical timeline of Genesis. Hope your neck doesn't get sore. As a review, here are some things to note: Adam is alive even while Enoch is alive, and also Noah's father, Lamech. Adam is the first person to die of "Natural" causes. Shortly thereafter, Enoch is taken up to Heaven as a message of assurance to all that there is a place to go to after life on earth. Noah, whose name means "comfort" is born. Everybody has kids at 100 except Noah. God waits until every one of the firstborn of Seth's lineage to die before the Flood comes. Methuselah died in the year of the Flood, possibly in the Flood, or as a witness to it. Noah lives for another 350 years, outliving his great-great-great grandson Peleg, and even Abram's grandfather Nahor. Noah is alive when Abram is alive. When Noah dies, Abraham sets out to Canaan approximately 20 years later. Shem outlives the next 9 generations (Except his great-grandson Eber). Shem outlives Abram. When Isaac is born, he is born when Abram is 100, like the age of the pre-flood forefathers. He is the 20th generation and his son is born at the beginning of the year 2000, thus re-establishing the birth rate of 1 man born every 100 years. God prolongs this birth rate even through the births of Jacob and Joseph. See you tomorrow.

From the Journal of Noah

2005-05-06T04:58:00.000-07:00

I celebrate my passage this day as I do every year, my three-hundred forty-ninth. On this day, I reflect upon the deep within me, rousing memories, questioning the future.
I have cursed my grandson. I can still see his eyes, hurt and betrayed.
Did I betray my grandfather, too? His eyes would never have told.
“Grampa” had a tough life. His father was taken from him at an early age. At a late age, he burried his son. What I learned from Grampa they did not teach me in school. Resilience. Letting go. Moving on. He was a rancher. I believe he would have made it to a thousand. But five years after Dad’s funeral, the earth died. And Grampa died with it.
Dad was more practical. His love was the farm, but he did not want the same life for me: always, always working. He told me how, before I was born, his grandfather would come to the farm to preach to the workers about repentance, about the End, about the Comforter. Dad liked the ‘Comforter’ part, so instead of naming me Jabal, he named me Noah. (Noah is a word-play on ‘comfort’ in the old language.)
The family was not pleased. It sounded heretical. But more than that, it broke tradition.
Tradition began with my great-grandfather Enoch, who was named after a distant uncle from the estranged side of the family. Consequently, Grampa Methuselah was named after Uncle Methushael, and my dad was named after a murdering polygamist hypocrit. The idea was for us country folk to reach out to the city dwellers, but it backfired.
A word about Uncle Lamech: He was greedy. He had two wives. He pushed his sons to success. He traded unfairly, taking advantage of the young and inexperienced. One day, a young man he had swindled attacked him in the city square. Lamech killed the man with his bare hands. As he walked through the streets, the citizens stepped from his way, bowing in fear. It was the first time that killing earned respect. From then on, people looked for opportunity to kill, and grow in power. One man killed three. Another, four. Uncle Lamech’s son Tubal-Cain manufactured tools specifically designed to kill humans, and others meant to keep one from being killed. Their family grew wealthy. Men killed their wives to prove their might. Others, their children.
I think Grampa was sorry he named my dad after that man. Uncle Lamech’s firstborn, Jabal, not to be outdone by his younger sibling rival, came up with the idea of eating animals to gain power. It also drove them mad. So, rather than name me after an animal eater, Dad named me Noah. He knew that it’s hard to rise above your name.
I lived up to it. Instead the back-breaking labor of growing roots and rices, Dad had me oversee the planting of orchards and vineyards, like the Garden. I cross-bred all sorts of fruits and flowers, and made the most incredible wines. Alas. My skills were in high demand and I traded us into a small fortune, which we used to send me to University. There, I was taught by the best minds in the world, learning Architecture and Zoology, the making of words and the languages of the various animals. I saw the Cherubim at Garden’s Gate. I studied the Nephilim. I even went to a music performance, though it did not sound as beautiful as the stars on the farm. After many years, I returned home, with a great many stories about all the world. Grampa was not interested, but Dad loved to hear of my adventures.
All this had caused my to marry late, at an age when most were enjoying the benefits of great-grandchildren. In the orchards, we called it being a “late-bloomer.” But it had paid off. The wine trade was booming. We tore down the stables and corals and planted more orchards. Dad went into retirement, but Grampa took his animals and went up into the mountains. We didn’t understand the point of clinging to tradition--keeping animals only to needlessly kill. At least with fruit you could still eat it. Grampa said that’s the way the other side of the family thought. And from then on, Grampa held his sacrifices in the mountains. Our family never went up, but my brothers and sisters did from their farms.
Then my life changed. God spoke to me.
My father insisted it was a building, the first of a great city of peace. He said we could call it “New Enoch” instead of “Lamech.” But I knew different. What God had told me to build was a tomb--a box that I and my family were going to get inside. And everything outside the box was going to die.
There was a lot of arguing between my father and I in those later years. He said I knew nothing about city planning, about the most popular and efficient ways. Where was my wall? Where was my keep? I’d try to explain, and he’d become frustrated. He’d accuse me of pretending to be smarter than him. He said you didn’t have to go to University to build an eyesore. My building had one door. It was covered with pitch, and had a roof. Dad said only pagans had roofs. He blew up when I told him it wasn’t being overlaid with limestone. He said he was sorry he had wasted money on my schooling. He went back to wine-making, but he didn’t sell any of it.
I think I made up for all the work I didn’t do as a youth. My sons knew nothing but building the box. We had ripped out the fruit trees and planted the kind of trees that the Kittim now make their sea vessles out of. In fact, they got the idea from me. We started running out of money and the workers left. When we finished it, it was just the four of us.
Then Dad died.
Grampa returned for the funeral. We burried my father Lamech in the ground like a seed, in a wooden box. Then I showed Grampa the Arc. He didn’t say a word. I asked him for some animals. He obliged us and returned to the mountains.
The next five years I and my sons spent on a safari, collecting animals and saying goodbye to the earth. And then, watching for the Day.
The Day The Sky Fell. Every angry raindrop was determined to burry us. Like hordes upon hordes, storming a city. It was like waking up, not knowing where you are, over and over. We took cover from the rain of arrows, moving tree-to-tree lest we be pelted into the mud, making our way from our campsite to the Ark. Then the explosions all around us: The irrigation sinkholes errupted, one after another, like when war birds drop fire on an enemy. Cows and trees flying high into the air. There were bigger explosions nearby. My three sons and our four wives made it to the Ark. The last thing I saw of that Day was a pillar of water. It must’ve been a couple hundred miles away, because it errupted very slowly. It looked like a mushroom--like an oak tree.
The door shut and we huddled in the middle, praying. The air ripped with squaks, screeches and roars I’d never heard. The animals were screaming. Then the Ark sounded like it broke in two, and everyone was cast into the wall. I yelled to Shem to check the birds above while I went below. I found the Ark intact, but some of the dragon had broken
through their stable gates, and were causing panic. I calmed them, then sent the wives to sing. Shem hollared down that the birds were trying to escape. I left Ham in charge of the mid deck and took Japheth upstairs. We checked the mesh over the ventilation and it was secure. And that’s how we lived for the next thirty-seven days, neither eating nor sleeping.
On the thirty-seventh day, I saw Grampa. I’d like to think it was him. A half-mile off, through the mist and drizzle, between the peaks of the waves, I saw a group in a cave. The annual sacrifice? My brothers and sisters, my nephews and uncles? Methuselah and I were the last of the Firstborn, one to go on into the future, one who stayed and died with his people. Two kings of two worlds.
I would have dumped the animals and picked them up, without hesitation. The Ark didn’t steer. Then the tide shifted, and we turned away. And in one moment, that was the last I saw of anyone of the old world. For the first time in five weeks, I felt again. My heart broke to God. Then we slept for three days.
Dad said Adam was already entombed by the time any human had gotten there. The cherubim were guarding the cave. Many people were there, and the animals--the one’s he had named, and more angelfolk. It was a very solemn day for every living thing. It was the first time any of us had died without bloodshed. It was the first time we were conscious of what our spirits had known since birth, no matter how far we moved away from violence... It was the first time we realized we were all going to die. It was the first time...
God wept.
By the time I awoke, there were no mountaintops, only water as far as the eye could see. The rain had stopped. I was now like Adam with his animals. Was this box our new home? Would I have a funeral like Adam’s in a floating coffin? We had enough food for a year, but after that, we would starve. I thought of taking the roof off and planting. Would food even grow? The light had changed--darker at night, brighter in the day, hotter, colder. The stars shrunk, neither dancing nor singing, nor radiating their many-colored halos. I saw a school of fish, and they gave me hope. We weren’t floating in a void. There was purpose. God was going to restore us.
I stuck to the plan and left the roof intact. Its a good thing because the flood didn’t kill everything. There were no more living bodies to dwell in, no animals to call home, no people to puppet. So the fallen ones came after us.
Haunting round like eagles, shrieks and screams breaking the surface of our world. Shem and I perceived them, but the others could not. We instructed them to sing praises while we commanded the Fallen out from the animals. But more were cominng and I wondered; where were the Cherubim? Had the heavenlies stretched so far away? The thought crossed my mind: our protectors had flown as far away as possible from our crumbling world. I counted 100 in the pigs. Ham was yelling at them. Japheth was grovelling. The women’s song was turning tearful. I felt we were all going to be given over.
Then the ocean trembled. The whole Arc vibrated violently and our knees failed us. The shrieks of the Fallen subsided. Momentarily, all was quiet. We crested a wave and the ocean quaked again. I staggered to the hatch and gazed and gazed, and then leviathan broke the horizon like a pillar of water, crashing, heading straight for us, his eyes aglow, plumes of emerald spray errupting from his enormous head. He bellowed for us, and the very air around him caught afire. Then he thrashed violently and I saw what beckoned him come. The host had hooked him through the jaw with chains of light, dragging him over the hills of water like a sledge. Why toward my Arc? I was very frightened. More Cherubim fell, transposing through the roof and materializing on mid deck. Was I to fight them, too? These were but ten feet tall, aflame, with the heads of bulls. But I saw they still had the mark of our Lord, so I pulled my family to the sheep pen, and watched. The Host bound the Fallen in flaming chains, thousands at a time, and hurled them away, to be imprisoned in the belly of the sea serpent.
Then I saw the wisdom of the Lord. Had the Cherubim come too early, the battle would have lasted days. They let evil grow together, in order to defeat it in one swift motion.
The leviathan was loosed and it spiralled into the deep, taking the Fallen to its lair no man has seen.
The Lord brought me hope every day during my time on the planet of water. Then the mountaintops returned and the birds started gathering. A dove brought me a twig with leaves on it--olive leaves! And on May 27th, 1657, I kissed dry ground. We sacrificed to the Lord and set the animals free.
We cleared the land of dead and planted, but the land did not work like it used to. The Spirit of God urged us to eat the animals, but I refused. Again, he urged us. I saw how the animals had not recovered their peace. They acted like wild men. Then I saw an animal eating another. So, in faith, we ate them. Thankfully, they nourished us.
In those days, we had our new Garden. I felt as though I had lived up to my name. The first few years were good.
They say your children are a reflection of you. But sometimes the mirror is warped. Sometimes it is shattered.
There are Two who are catalysts of humanity, One who brings forth fantastic dreams, One who expediates whimsy. There are Two who break down walls. The wall between the heart and the spirit, but the other where the body joins the heart. There are Two before the Throne. One to bring us Comfort we do not deserve. The other to Accuse us of the wickedness in our hearts.
Satan had made it through the flood. He was not imprisoned in the boil of the earth. The faithless and the practical say God lets the Fallen test us. But they say it out of spite and proud knowledge. My experience outweighs their knowledge.
God could have left Ham with Grampa. But there was a choice Ham had yet to make. And when he did make that choice, that day in my tent--that’s when I knew the Accuser had survived. Ham defiled me in my covenant with my wife. Satan hoped I would kill him. Maybe Satan has yet to defile his own covenant. Though, if it were up to me, I would chain him in the center of the earth.
Ham had four young. For the sake of the eldest three, I cursed Canaan--that all the evil which ripened in his father be passed on only to him, in order to be defeated in one swift motion. I had one blessing to give Ham, and that’s the best I could do.
After that day in the tent, my strength died in me. I went back to the mountain, back to the Ark. I planted no more, eating only animals. We had no more offspring.
Japheth moved far away to the west, where the land is rapidly floating
away, too far now to get safely to and fro. They dress like the Fallen and make monuments to them.
Ham’s grandson Nimrod founded the river cities, following in his father’s footsteps. Once again, I have an estranged side of the family.
I heard Canaan is cross-breeding. I heard there are hybrids and Nephilim again. And murder again is worshipped.
Only Shem remained close. Is this how Adam felt, losing two sons? Like Adam, I live as a foreigner in a world that has fallen away from me. Families roam by and they do not know me, nor do I recognize them. Withered skin, glassy eyes like sheep, covered with hair like wild goats. They are fragile, fearful little creatures. It seems they could blow to dust in the wind, not born with strength nor given wisdom. Yet they are my family. These are my children. We are digressing.
Is this how God feels, hoping against hopelessness? I look down my firstborn lineage, and see death closing in. I have out-lived my great-great-grandson Peleg, his son, and his great-grandson Nahor. Nahor’s son Terah has moved out from under Nimrod in Ur, but his son died on the journey and they will not leave that desert grave. They will not make it to Canaan. What of his firstborn? Could he be the one to bring reconciliation? To bring Comfort? He is not yet 100 years old, and probably never will be. How could he avoid the pitfalls I could not? I would fill that young man with 900 years of wisdom, but I speak in a tongue he cannot understand. He is the last of my firstborn, and as I approach the age of Methuselah, I see him as I once was. He, too, is a late-bloomer. He, too, desires to live up to his name. Will he be ‘Father’ of yet another world, as I have been? His name means ‘Father.’ His name is Abram.
In all of this, I see Two things, two circles. One is the spiral path of humanity, doomed to repeat, making the same mistakes on deeper and deeper levels, like the path of leviathan descending the deep. And the other is the half-halo of light in the sky--the rainbow that reminds me that even though the world is only half of what it used to be, it still stands. Even though the world ought to be dead, it lives. It is He who sustains it. Hope is not lost. Our restoration is secure. We will live and not die.
Noah died in the 2006th year, After Creation. He was 950 years old. 17 years later, Abram set out for the land of Canaan.

A Flood of Words, Part II

2005-05-05T09:31:00.000-07:00

So, Noah and Shem are the only two “firstborn” fellas who live before and after the Flood. Eventually, there’ll be a sweet graph of all of this stuff, so you can see for yourself. Unless you graphed all the people in the Bible yourself, that is. I have the graph already made, but I don’t yet have my doctorate in “The Internet,” so I can’t figure out how to post it. I read how easy it is: just type hththp:// followed by a secret code that you guess. The last computer thing I remember is PRINT “ENTER HOW MANY APPLES JOHN HAS:” But the internet doesn’t “know” BASIC from 1984. Anyway, the first thing in my sweet Bible graph that you see is that guys’ lifespans decrease rapidly. It was probably a pretty big shock to Noah, who was used to people living around 900 years to see his grandchildren dying so young. Abram’s grandfather died at 119, which is like 11 years old from Noah’s perspective. Oh, that brings up an interesting point. There’s a school of thought that suggests that the lengths of life of these guys wasn’t really 900 years, but that years were different back then. Let’s explore that. If the 900-year life span was really, say, 90 years to us, then Adam had Seth at 13, and he had Cain and Able before that, at age 12 and 11, and Cain was exiled by God at age 2 after he slew his brother Able, who was 1 years old, because Able gave a better sacrifice, to which Paul refers in the Hall of Faith in the Book of Hebrews. Even if Adam had kids at age 6 and 7, then Cain and Able were offering sacrifices at ages 6 and 7? No, anyone who studies the Bible must conclude that the writer of Genesis deliberately wanted the readers to conclude that the first people on the Earth lived for 900+ years. Whether you believe the numbers are true or a conspiracy, there is no room to think that these lifespans were calculated on a sliding scale. So, back to the graph. There are a few things that I find interesting, and then I have to go to bed. 1.) Abram and Noah were alive at the same time. When Noah died, Abram was 58. Contrary to popular belief (Like, “What was God doing in between Noah and Abram, just sitting around?”) God wasted no time with His plan of redemption for mankind, but Abram took off for Canaan a mere 17 years later. 2.) Shem was still alive when Jacob was born. Although the Bible gives no indication that any of these guys had much to do with each other (like distant relatives or something), we know that Abram knew who Shem was, because he told his kids who Shem was, who told their kids, who told their kids, who eventually told Moses, who wrote the Book of Genesis. Probably, the lifespans of the people were remembered, too. Especially after Noah saw that everybody was dying at a mere 10th of the original lifespan. He was probably, like, “We have to preserve the account of the good old days!” So, all this to say that there’s a good chance Abram knew about Noah, and Noah knew about Abram, and even Shem probably knew about Isaac and Jacob. Okay, the third thing is 3.) God redeems the time of men. In pre-flood Earth, each generation was about 100 years from the other. Guys had kids when they were 100. But for some reason, Noah totally disregards tradition and has kids at 500. Then the next few generations after Noah have kids at age 30. But then, God re-establishes the generations with Abram. Not only does he have his first kid at age 100, but it is at the exact time in his life, as if there had never been a flood and everybody had been having kids at age 100 ever since. Okay, it’s time for bed.

The Eye of the Hurricane: Our Honeymoon

2005-05-04T09:05:00.000-07:00

Today my arms have recovered from typing so much. My sweetheart (who I love very much) and I are planning our honeymoon this week. It will be a nice time away from the hectic day-to-day activities of planning a wedding. God has been very very good to us in this relationship--bestowing many blessings upon us--and our faith is high that we will go to a great place for our honeymoon. We set a financial goal of what we thought was a reasonable amount to spend on a trip. But appartently this only gets us 3 days and two plane tickets. (And it's a LOT of money we set aside--more than I've ever saved in my life!) We went to a travel agent today. She was pretty excited because I'm a foreigner and all foreigners are filthy rich, ready to throw all their money at the nearest salesperson for a few moments of bad business ethics. So, we prayed today and we know that God will supply us with a great honeymoon for the amount of money we have. (Let all the readers be witnesses to this.) And that's all that happened today, except that the immigration police stopped by again...twice...and each time it was a different person. I guess word is getting around.

A Flood of Words, Part I

2005-05-03T04:25:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a spooky dream where you’re running hither thither through mud and stuff from unknown evil and finally you just get so tired that you give up and say, “Okay, just kill me,” and the evil forces don’t know what to do. “Come on, what are you waiting for?” Then you start to chase them and they scream, slipping in the mud and stuff until you start wondering if they could find out that you really ARE scared, and then they do and turn on you and you’re trying not to be scared and there’s a one-to-one relation between your fear and their power? Those are fun dreams aren’t they? That’s probably why I love math problems. Especially the ones that start out “A train leaves New York...” and “John has two apples...” I used to be horrible at math until I got really sick in the fourth grade and all I had to comfort me was a math book. I kind of developed Stolkholme’s syndrome with it. Now, I make excuses to sit down and do some good old-fashioned figurin’. Anytime is number-time for me, and Bible time is no exception. Okay, for this blog entry, you’ll need a number 2 pencil and paper, and a Bible. And possibly you may need a nap and an aspirin. Today, we’re going to work out of the Book of Genesis, specifically GEN 5:1-32; 7:6; 9:29; 11:10-26 & 32; and 25:7. Chapter 5 has all the guys from Adam to Noah, and chapter 11 has all the ones from Shem to Abram. There’s a bunch of numbers there, and, as you can see--does everyone have their Bible open to Genesis chapter 5?--as you can see, if you pretend that Adam was “born” on year number zero, then Seth was born in 130. Maybe we could say Seth was born in 130 A.C., for After Creation, or even 130 Y.O., for Year Zero. Moving along, we see that Seth had a son named Enosh when he was 105. So, (get ready--here comes a really tricky math part) if Enosh was born 105 years after Seth, and Seth was born in 130 A.C., what year was Enosh born? I’ll give you some time.... Maybe you need multiple choice: A.) 235 B.) I don’t know. The correct answer is B. You don’t know. But I know. It’s A! 235 A.C. Yes, simply ADD the two numbers together to get the correct year that Enosh was born. Here’s another one: If Seth lived 912 years, and he was born in 130 A.C., what year did he die? A.) Who’s Seth? B.) I forgot it at home... I’m sorry, neither answer is correct. The correct answer is 1042 A.C., by ADDITION. Okay, your homework is to find out the birthdates and years-of-death for every man, woman, and child in the Bible. Oh, and by the way, Noah’s lifespan is given in GEN 9:29, Terah’s (Abram’s dad) in 11:32, Abram’s in 25:7. Also, Shem’s birthday is a little tricky. It says in GEN 11:10 that he had his firstborn when he was 100, which was two years after the Flood. That means that the Flood came when he was 98. We also know that the Flood came when Noah was 600 (GEN 7:6) So, (by way of math) Shem was born 98 years before, when Noah was 502. Who’s head’s spinning? Okey dokey. So, after you’ve finished that, I want you to GRAPH it. Then you’ll clearly see some startling things to see. First of all, you’ll notice that Adam was alive the same time as Seth, Enosh, Kenan, Mahalalel, Jared, Enoch, Methuselah, and Lamech (Noah’s Father.) That’s like if you knew your Great-times-six Grandson! Also, Adam was the first person to (presumably) die of natural causes. (“Natural” meaning “as a result of a sin-laden world,” and not at all meaning that God created people with death as a natural means for them. I hate it when people say “Death is a part of life.” Yeah, “Black” is a part of “White”) So, that was a sad day for everybody, because they had managed to stay alive for all these years, and then the realization that they were all going to die hit them. Then look what happens: Enoch is taken up to Heaven. God uses Enoch to comfort those men left on the Earth, because they couldn’t detect God anymore (4:26) and they were wondering “Where did Adam go? Do I know where I’m going when I die? (I might also add, at the expense of being burned for Heresey, that Enoch lived 365 years and that the book of Enoch charts the stars and the days of the year, coming up with 365. But I’m not saying that the Book of Enoch belongs in the Bible. I’m just saying its cool.) Next, Seth dies. Next, Noah is born, and Lamech names him so because it sounds like the word “Comfort,” and he’s prophesying that Noah will bring comfort to those left on the Earth: Grandpa Methuselah and some other relatives. But just like Jacob “kept in mind” Joseph’s dreams and Mary did the same concerning Jesus’ words, Lamech probably doesn’t realize exactly how God will use Noah to accomplish this comforting. In 1556 A.C., Noah is commissioned by God to build the Ark. They only other two guys of the original lineage left are Noah’s dad and his grandfather, Methuselah. Lamech’s death is very prophetic, too. There is another Lamech, from Cain’s lineage, who’s family is a mess. And this Lamech has killed a young man either in self-defence or in vengance (which would be murder). He says, “If Cain is avenged 7 times, then I’ll be avenged 77 times.” God remembers this saying, and His response is 2-fold. In Matthew, Christ answers Peter “Don’t forgive people 7 times but 77 times.” And 7 years before the flood, the Lamech from Adam’s lineage dies at age 777. Now only Methuselah, Noah, and his sons remain from the original lineage. (Oh, there’s tons more people on the earth than just them. If each guy only had 3 sons and 3 daughters, there would be 20,000 people on Earth. If each guy had 6 sons, there would be 10 million, if 9, half a billion, and if each guy only had a son only every 20 years of his lifespan--that’s one kid every 10 years--there would be three quarters of a trillion people on the planet.) So, anyway Methuselah dies in the year of the Flood. We don’t know if he dies IN the Flood or if he dies, and immediately God releases the Flood. But it is evident that 8 of those first 9 were definately spared from the Flood, the wrath of God. I’d like to think that Methuselah was allowed to see the Flood, to see what was meant by Noah’s prophetic name, but hopefully he didn’t die in the flood. Since Lamech complained about working the soil, he might have been a farmer in the lowlands somewhere. But Methuselah lived a long time, so he probably was making lots of atoning sacrifices. He was probably a rancher, and probably lived in the mountains. So, perhaps when the Flood came, he went up to some mountain and watched it, then died, maybe like Moses’ last day. Next time, we’ll see some other cool stuff, cause my arms are getting tired of typing right now.

A Very Merry Unbirthday

2005-05-02T08:58:00.000-07:00

Did I say "Tomorrow?" Well, never say "when" you're going to do something. (Book of James) Today was the third day of a three-day weekend. Hurrah, except that usually means you have to do a bunch of junk you've been putting off for awhile. I thought that was only and American mental illness, but it is epidemic world-wide. So, we did lots of spring cleaning. It was great working side-by-side with the woman I love. Until my brain short-circuited. See, I'm an endomorph, or whatever that word is for body-types. It means that I can go, go, go, and then no, no, no. My blood runs out of sugar and has exaclty zero reserves. So, my body has the great idea to start digesting some of it's own muscles. Cool how the body never lets you down. So, there I was, sitting on the couch with a bleary look in my eyes, having a snack without eating. All of a sudden, I ran out of endorphins and got some anger flashes. Then everything was euphoric again. So, I told my sweety I needed to go lay down and ran to my apartment before Mr. Hyde came out again.
But lucky that we did all that work, because some people invited themselves over. (That's what you do in the Gog--invite yourself over to people's places) It was a wonderful time--almost like a birthday party with lots of laughter and eating and even some gifts. Except I was 5 minutes behind everybody else. It was kind of like hiking in the mountains with an infant--and I don't mean and infant on your back, I mean an infant hiking through the mountains. You see, I don't speak Russian. In fact the only thing I can say in Russian is "I speak Russian very bad little." This always gets a frown. But even more funnier is not speaking Russian at a Russian-speaking party. And this is where the infant thing comes in. Here is an actual transcription of the party I attended, or hosted, or whatever I was doing there: Russian man: "Blah blah blah blah." Followed by uproarious laughter. Followed by uncomfortable silence. Followed by Russian translator: "You see, honey, the man was not telling a joke, but he said he was." Then I laugh really hard by myself, as if I can understand the punchline to a transcription of a Russian joke. Followed by Russian man: "Blah blah blah blah." etc. End transcription. So, that's what it's like living in the Gog. Hopefully tomorrow will be the math thing, unless we have another holiday and someone invites themselves over.

Unity in the Body of Christ

2005-05-01T07:43:00.000-07:00

Unity
Tomorrow is Unity of the Nations Day in the Gog. In the USSR, it used to be Unity of the Workers Day, like Labor Day in America. We went to church today but it was Easter for the Orthodox Church, so there were a few people absent. (The Russian Orthodox Church is very similar to Catholocism.) We were a group of people caught in between two holidays. But one of the guys up at the podium pointed out that we were a Unity of the Nations--we were people from all different parts of the world coming together for one purpose, to worship Christ. Then we had communion and it was like Easter, too. So, the underdogs got to have two holidays.
The reason there is dis-unity in the Body of Christ is because of pride. Unity is not really a matter of two denominations having matching doctrines. Even wicked men love their children. Groups are unified when they work together for the glory of God, and the unity is stronger and brings even more glory to God when the doctrines are very far apart. (That will be a glorious day. I will like to see it.) The reason there is dis-unity is because people are willing to argue (they even like arguing) with one another about their translation and their interpretation of the Bible. And I mean argue in a worldly spirit of spite and one-upmanship. If they’d make a debate with love and laughter, it would be great. But I’ve never ever seen it. If you peruse the internet, looking for articles on apologetics and debates, it’s just a bunch of name-calling. But I love unity in the Body of Christ, and I strive for it, hoping one day to see it. Just today, the pastor said some things that did not fit my interpretations of the Bible. He even said some things that were blatantly not true. But I saw his heart and his passion for the great commission, and despite our differences, I was unified with him in spirit. I’m sure that if we spent some time talking, our differences would come to surface. Since he is the authority--the shepherd of the church there--I would either shut my mouth or we might keep talking in a friendly manner, as iron sharpens iron. The reason there is dis-unity is because the initial assumptions of the groups are beliefs, and not provable, primarily because the scripture surrounding the controversy hasn’t been revealed by God yet. Examples might be the arguments over when the Rapture takes place, and when the Mellinium takes place. Any apologeticist will tell you that it is an inconclusive debate, but that “Most of the evidence in the Bible points to...”...whatever they believe. (I think its a good idea to just prepare for the worst and hope for the best.) But for both houses of Israel, I will be a stone that causes men to stumble. Originally, this Scripture was meant for the two Kingdoms of the Jews, which were ransacked by two other countries. But it was also fufilled while Jesus walked the earth when he stumped the Sadducees and Pharasees with a few words (so much so that they dared not ask him any other questions) Then again, it was fufilled when Paul said that Christ is a stumbling block to the Jews, and foolishness to the Greeks. I mean, do we think that’s it? It doesn’t apply to us today? If it did, who would it apply to? Who are the two houses of Israel, symbolically, today? Some people claim that America is Israel. So, the two houses of Israel to them ought to be the Republicans and the Democrats. But I bet their pride won’t let them let go of their political beliefts. Perhaps it means the Catholics and the Protestants. Maybe it means the Humanists and the Fundamentalists. The Pentecostals and the Baptists. I think this scripture is true today, and it refers to any two schools of thought who exalt themselves above the Lord. First Corinthians, chapter 3 tells us so. There it is, right in the Word: You’re not supposed to argue about who you follow--what man and his teaching you adhere to. Now brothers, I have applied these things to myself and Apollos for your benefit so that you may learn from us the meaning of the saying, “Do not go beyond what is written.” Then you will not take pride in one man over against another (I Cor 4:6) Each man should be careful how he builds (as in, “builds his soul with the study of the Word.”) ...because the Day will bring it to light...fire will test the quality of each man’s work. If what he has built survives, he will recieve his reward. If it is burned up, he will suffer loss; he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames. (I Cor 3:10-15) So, don’t argue, dudes, but keep unity. Everybody gets burned, and what’s left over makes it in to Heaven.
Tomorrow we’ll talk about how cool God was in the Flood by using math.

Assault of the Immigration Police

2005-04-30T23:53:00.000-07:00

There I was, playing video games, minding my own business in Middle Asia. All of a sudden, I hear a faint knocking. No one ever knocks loudly here. Or was it just a bump from within a near-by apartment? I'm slightly panicked. I'm expecting some people, but not for an hour. Natasha, the love of my life, has instructed me not to open the door to strangers. And she is not here right now. Just a few days ago a man was snooping outside our door for hidden keys. Was he a friend of the neighbors? Or possibly part of the KGB? Stealthily, I mute my computer and procede silent-footed to the door. I peek through the eyehole and see two silhouettes against the bright stairwell windows. One is a woman but the other is too far back to make out. They're holding clipboards. Its the Jehovah's Witnesses again, and it doesn't matter if you're a Christian--they still want to convert you. I wonder what happens when a Witness knocks on the door of another Witness. Is there a battle within the various churches of the Jehovah's Witnesses to convert each other to their Kingdom Hall? Anyway, I know that the best way to get rid of them is tell them to go away. They probably heard the video game anyway and I don't want them knocking on the door all day. "Hello?" I say. The response is in Russian, "Blah blah blah politsia." I know what "politsia" is. It's not a term used by Jehovah's Witnesses. Crap. A badge is flashed into the eyehole. Now what to do? Are they impersonators? They don't look like cops. If I don't answer will they break down the door? What if they ARE cops? Will they break down the door? My best bet is use my Secret Actor skills and play dumb. "Adeen minoot--one minute," I say. My heart is beating. Are they after me for something? Only the wicked run when no one is chasing them. So, I try to think. I need my keys. "Keys, keys, keys." I find them and proceed to the door. I think, "I need to get out as quick as possible and lock the door, in case they aren't cops or worse--corrupt cops." I unlock the door--first one lock and then the other--and immediately rush out and lock the door behind me. They're little--I could probably take them. The woman speaks a little bit of English. They're from Immigration. Great. They're going to deport me before I can marry my sweetheart. But I know that I'm a leagal resident alien, so I don't panick. "Passport?" she asks. I've left my passport in the apartment. "Adeen minoot." And I unlock the door and go inside. It seems kind of ridiculous to lock the door now, but you never know. I'm looking for my passport. It's actually in MY apartment, two blocks from here. (My computer is at my fiance's) This could be terrible, but immediately I remember that there is a copy of the passport. Luckily, I had just gotten it yesterday. I call this Indiana Jones'in it--the times in life where you barely avoid certain disaster. I present the passport copy (a photocopy with some guy's signature on it--like who couldn't make up one of those?) and they are satisfied. They ask me a bunch of questions in Russian, none of which I understand. But I do understand her hand gestures to the apartments on my left and right. "Ya nay znai-oo.- I don't know." And they let me off the hook. I went back inside, trembling, and immediately called my Lady. "The immigration police came!" She gasps, but all's well. Just a normal day in the Gog.