Culture or Fashion

We might have the impression that certain activities inspire their own cultures. Dirk and I discussed this while at the skatepark. Surfing would seem to inspire its own culture, as would skateboarding. But that doesn't work at all. "I don't think I could recognize a surfer in a crowd, unless he was carrying a surfboard or something," Dirk observed. Skate shoes don't mean we skate. Long hair doesn't mean we play guitar. People in neckties might be the biggest environmentalists, dreadlocked people can be the biggest snobs. People are full of surprises. Even siblings don't often look or act alike. Through families God teaches us to cooperate in, if not to enjoy, diversity. Nobey and Peter look and act quite differently, but they're best friends. They have the same Papa. Because of that, they are together and have everything in common (Acts 2:44), and they share everything they have (Acts 4:32). Jesus promises to inspire His own culture. "But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God" (1 Peter 2:9) "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Rom 12:2). To expect that culture to appear in look or lexicon of course is to trade the profound spiritual work of Christ for the superficial religious work of men. To admonish diversity is to resist nature, as God demonstrates in the biological family, and to detour challenges to our perceptions and understandings, and subsequent spiritual growth. I've learned much about faith and love from all the weird people at my church.

I zipped over to the skate park early one morning on the Honda 350 with my board strapped to my backpack. The weather was balmy, and I was changing lanes and pulling away from work traffic. The bike is a 1971 and in excellent condition, but the pipes has been modified so it's kind of noisy. I would prefer the less obtrusive little buzz of the original stock pipes, but the choice is not mine since the bike is borrowed. God really knows how to give good gifts to His children (Matt 7:11). I had been thinking hard about how I might get one, especially when we had only one vehicle and I was relying on the bus to get to college. I don't think I ever outright prayed to God for a motorcycle, not since junior high anyway, but one evening a friend from church brought this vintage beauty to the house and left it with me, hoping it would be of use. I've kept it a year now. I was the only one on the road leading to the skate park. I could see and smell the river, and I enjoy being alive.

scars in heaven

My wrist hurts just a little. I don't know if it's from falling off the skateboard or from punching the punching bag. It could be collaborative. I think some of us will have scars in heaven. Jesus, in his resurrected body, still had nail holes in his hands or wrists, and a spear gash in His side. (John 20:27). It didn't cause Him any discomfort. Our scars won't keep us from soaring on wings like eagles, running and not growing weary, walking and not being faint (Isaiah 40:31). I wouldn't expect our injuries sustained in mere daily life in an imperfect world, nor those due to sinful activities, to carry over into the next life, not for those made new in Jesus anyway, but those wounds acquired in obedience and service to the Kingdom will still be visible somehow. Paul will still bear in his body the marks of Christ (Galations 6:17). He and John the Baptist, I expect, will surely have their heads reattached, but somehow we will recognize what happened. As for Jesus' martyrs who were burned at the stake, for example, I don't know how, but I think we'll know them, too. So I wonder if I, at the renewal of all things, with my shins and knees and arms all baby fresh and clean again, will be ashamed before those people whom the world was not worthy of (Hebrews 11:38). I wouldn't expect to have any good conversations with them about how I kept my mouth shut to avoid contraversy, or how my feelings were hurt a little when someone disagreed with me about Jesus. I don't want to spend my brief time on earth carefully considering what everyone thinks about me. Should God have a long and safe life in mind for me, then there will be no reason for shame. But should He will that I know "the fellowship of sharing in His suffering" (Phil 3:10), then I don't want to miss it. I want to say that I "consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us" (Rom 8:18).