Ponder for a long time whether you shall admit a given person to your friendship; but when you have decided to admit him, welcome him with all your heart and soul.
-Seneca, Epistle III

One of the things that has always been a pet peeve of mine is when people refer practical strangers in their lives as "friends." That is, they've met the person once or twice, know their name, and where they work, but not much more. That's not a friend, that's someone you met.

A portion of this letter points out what I am saying. In it, Lucilius - the one to whom Seneca is writing - sends a letter along with someone he calls a "friend," but tells Seneca not to discuss anything with this man who delivered it. Seneca responds, "in other words, you have in the same letter affirmed and denied that he is your friend."

It's a simple truth to me. Friends are those whom you trust with everything, with all your life, as it were, and with all that is in you. That is a friend, and one in whom you can have the complete confidence that their loyalty to you will surpass even the bond of blood (Proverbs 18.24).

And so I agree wholeheartedly with Seneca. It is not often that I call a person a friend; I prefer to use the words "acquaintance," "coworker," "buddy." The term Friend is reserved for those whom I know I can trust, whom I know I can rely on, and one to whom I have given my trust: in short, someone whom I have welcomed with all my heart and soul. And that takes time; but once it comes to the decision of friendship, giving my all is not difficult at all, but more of a joy.

Posted by Michael at 10:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This morning's daily office reading included James 3:1-12.

It's a good reminder that this task of pastoring is a Call, and not just a wishful desire on our parts. Because once we stand there, Bible in hand, preaching the Word of God, we become (and some claim to be) the voice of God to those listening.

Now that's a monumental task, and a frightening endeavor, should we attempt to do this without God and simply under our own power. Which is why, I believe, it says, "Let not many of you become teachers..." We all make mistakes in what we say, every single one of us, and so we're simply bound to spout some heresy at some point in our lives. What's a heretic to do? If he knows he has been Called to this vocation, and others have vouched for his Call, then he knows he is in good standing before God, save for the glitch in spouting off. And then he repents of the fact that he wasn't listening to God, and recants his spout before the people. Again, not such a pleasant thing to do, unless you know your Call, and stand trembling in fear before a merciful God, who will restore you for your glitch.

I think part of the trouble with where Christianity as a faith has gone recently, is that people have removed themselves from any sort of accountability, and from any form of Church discipline, and have begun preaching that which they wish to hear, rather than that which they know to be true. And it's partly because they're catering to society. Hmmm... wait a minute, that sounds familiar.

Posted by Michael at 11:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

'Contented poverty is an honorable estate.' Indeed, if it be contented, it is not poverty at all. It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor.
-Seneca, Epistle II, quoting Epicurus

Growing up with a Father prone to posting quotes on his office walls and door, I remember well one quote in particular: "There are two ways to get enough: continue to acquire more and more, or, desire less."

When I got this job at Caltech, my salary increased dramatically (a little over 100%), and yet, even now, I sometimes find myself feeling as though I do not have enough. And I ask myself how that is possible, given the sudden jump in my salary. But I realize that the moments that I feel I'm not making enough is when I am contemplating the purchase of something new, or hoping for something other than what I have right now. Can I pay my bills? Yes. Can I pay off my debt? Yes. Can I pay off my debt while simultaneously desiring bigger, better, badder toys? No.

Seneca also said, in this epistle, that "The primary indication, to my thinking, of a well-ordered mind, is a man's ability to remain in one place and linger in his own company." Though he spoke these words in reference to those who can never seem to remain in one house, job, or place long enough to firmly establish roots, I think the malaise is the same: discontentedness with what is. Whether it be traveling, a new job, new friends, or a new relationship that one seeks over against what one already has, it belies, in my view, an inability to see the good in what is, and an inability to be ordinary. Whether ordinary means "mundane" or "everyday" makes no difference. The mindset is one that says that good is not good enough.

Posted by Michael at 5:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

They say they're doing it to emphasize that we're just another primate.

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2002454031_zoo27.html
-and-
http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,3604,1556791,00.html?gusrc=rss

I beg to differ. We're so much more than just animals, even though we act like it sometimes...

Posted by Michael at 9:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I confess frankly: my expense account balances, as you would expect from one who is free-handed but careful. I cannot boast that I waste nothing, but I can at least tell you what I am wasting, and the cause and manner of the loss; I can give you the reasons why I am a poor man."
-Seneca, Epistle 1

When I examined my spending the other day, and compared it to my outstanding bills, I made the not so pleasant realization that I was making a less than decent dent into my debt repayment.

Then I looked at my receipts for the past few weeks, and realized that I can explain exactly why my "free-handed but careful" ways are keeping me from making this dent. In short, I too can tell you why I am a poor man.

Still, I think that in the long run, I'd rather be more of a free-handed but careful type: generous, but within reason. As long as I'm making a dent, I can at least consider myself to be moving forward into that blissful existence of debt-free living.

Posted by Michael at 11:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Stoic Philosophy has long been a favorite of mine, and probably explains why I am also driven to the works of the Desert Fathers, and various other ascetics.

Nevertheless, Lucius Annaeus Seneca's Epistulae Morales to Lucilius Junior flow through various moral questions, each following a nicely drawn line in the sand, and most often opting for the more difficult path. It is a manner of thinking that I find quite suitable to ordering one's life.

In any case, I've decided to start a new category, entitled "Seneca" and drop in my two cents about his writings that I find particularly interesting and thought provoking.

So, on to Epistle One.

[For those interested, I'm using the Loeb Classical Library edition of the Epistles, translated by Richard M. Gummere]

Posted by Michael at 10:18 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Yeserday I invited a group of people to come with me to the LACMA to view an exhibit of the work of Tim Hawkinson.

Now, this guy is eccentric to say the least. His work is odd. But it's also strangely beautiful, in an "I wonder what made him think of that?" sort of way, and less in an "I'd like to display that in my house," sort of way. Not that it wasn't good, just not the sort of art you would most likely display in your house unless you were one of the idle rich, and had massive expanses of space to display it in.

In any case, we all enjoyed the show, and when we left, we walked back across the grounds of the LACMA, to a nice rolling hill. Someone got the bright idea that we should have a race rolling down the hill, and the hill became a true rolling hill. It seems that I roll the fastest, but that I roll crooked, which is to say, I roll like a tapered stick: down and to the right. Nevertheless, once these crazy adults began playing around, a whole plethora of kids ran up the hill to partake, much to the dismay of the parents, I think.

All in all, a great day, shutting my brain off.

Posted by Michael at 10:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Last night I attended the ordination of a friend to the Order of Deacons, in the sanctuary of a beautiful church.

As we progressed through the liturgy for the ordination, and through the various specific acts of worship throughout the service, I was struck once again by the depth of the theology attached to the various symbols of the church, whether they be in the candles on the altar, the reading of the Gospel, the sign of the cross, or the Bishop laying his hands upon the newly ordained deacon.

What an incredible wealth of symbolism, in which, in many ways, is wrapped the entirety of the Good News. You could take almost any symbol of the church, and preach the death & resurrection of Christ to one who seeks to know the meaning behind the symbol. And for those who already know Christ, what a storehouse of knowledge there is to be learned from these symbols to deepen their faith.

It reminded me of how little I truly know, and how much I desire to know more, and how much I long to serve in a church that preaches Christ with every element within it, even in things that look like mere decoration to some...

Non nobis Domine, non nobis, sed nomine tua da gloriam. - Psalm 115

Posted by Michael at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Emailed to me today:

The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

Here are this year's {2005} winners:

1. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until
you realize it was your money to start with.

2. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

3. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops
bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows
little sign of breaking down in the near future.

4. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of
getting laid.

5. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the
subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

6. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

7. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the
person who doesn't get it.

8. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

9. Hipatitis: Terminal coolness.

10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra
credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all
these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth
explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.

12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when
they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after
you've accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan, in the form of a mosquito, that gets into
your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in
the fruit you're eating.

And the pick of the literature:

18. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an ass.

Posted by Michael at 3:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Well, more like a Komodo Dragon.

Ok, a whole lot more like a lizard.

But it was a big lizard.

Ok, he was seven inches long.

And... I didn't exactly slay him.

How on earth this little bugger got into my house, I don't know, but he did.

I'm making dinner, and I glance into the living room to see this punk running across the floor, like he came from my computer room area, which means he must have been in the house for quite some time.

So I chased him down for a bit, trying to scoop him into a shoe box, but the little slimer kept jumping out. I think that the only reason I managed to finally get him into the box and keep him there is that I wore out his little ticker.

Then I unceremoniously dumped him outside, where he ran into the bushes. End of story, except that I also had to write about it...

Posted by Michael at 8:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

darBay is complete. Time for completion 37 hours.

darBay is a ripoff of eBay, which I just completed for Zachary, the Systems administrator here at the Development & Alumni Relations office at Caltech.

We've got loads of new computers coming in, and we're stacking old equipment into the cubicle that belongs to Lori, who is on maternity leave at the moment. Rather than just dump the stuff, Zachary wants to make a bit of money for our department, which he's previously done via email auctions. But now, since he's got a web programmer on staff, he figured he'd have me write a mini-auction script.

By far the most exciting thing I've done in a long time.

*sigh*

Now back to cutting and pasting...

Posted by Michael at 11:44 AM | Permalink

Make little things bother you. Don't just let them, make them.

Start worrying, especially about something you can't do anything about.

Be a perfectionist: don't work hard to do your best, but condemn yourself and others for not achieving perfection.

Be right. Always. Be the only one who is always right, and be rigid in your rightness.

Don't trust or believe people, or accept them at anything but their worst and weakest. Be suspicious. Insist that others always have hidden motives.

Always compare yourself unfavorably to others.

Take personally everything that happens to you.

Self-pity and lots of it. The whole world is definitely against you.

[taken from an 'unknown author' posting]

Posted by Michael at 10:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Reminders.

Yes, reminders.

And all in the shape of women.

Sure, we all have things we've done in the past, or people we probably shouldn't have been with, or things we shouldn't have said or done to those self-same people.

Nevertheless, we know that these things no longer matter, now that we have become a new creature in Christ. What we are now is what God sees in us, and not what we see in ourselves.

Still... when one bumps into five of them (count them, 5) on the streets of Pasadena in a 2 1/2 hour time frame, you kind of have to wonder what the hell is going on, and it's a bit difficult to remind ourselves of what God sees in us, when we're confronted with the flesh and blood version of what others think of us.

Still, the Truth is there: God sees our hearts in the present, and doesn't rely on historical truth. More to the point, God sees our hearts in the future, with what we are to become, and not what we once were.

So why should we do any differently? Quick answer: we shouldn't.

Now let's just figure out how...

Posted by Michael at 4:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So yesterday I spent the latter half of the day with Fr. Rich, my priest, with the intention of doing spiritual direction, which with Fr. Rich usually means some form of beating.

We met at Cotter's Church Supply, and then went and viewed his favorite church - Saint Vincent's- and the Greek Orthodox Cathedral - Saint Sophia's. Beautiful churches both.

But the real reason we were down there, apparently, is that Fr. Rich likes to time his visits downtown around a decent time to eat at Papa Cristo's, where he gets a dish of Octopus, which isn't nearly my favorite thing to eat. I stuck with the more "exotic" Lamb Gyro.

Anyhoo, the whole time we were down there eating and having fun, I kept expecting Fr. Rich to drop a brick on my head or pull out one of his trademark cans of "whoopass," but it never happened. We just sat around shooting the breeze and having a good time. Turns out he's a fungi after all...*

And for all those interested in a good Greek meal, I can highly recommend Papa Cristo's, my Lamb Gyro was excellent, and the atmosphere pretty good too.

[*oh, boo hiss, that's the worst joke I've ever heard... How old are you - five?! You may be right, it's stupid as all hell, but I couldn't resist. ;o) Oh, and in case you're wondering, I'm kidding about the beating thing: that only happens half of the time...]

Posted by Michael at 8:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

"Quit your sifting."
-God,
via Cody at last night's Taizé service.

Despite the fact that we have an injunction not to judge, we often take upon ourselves God's duties, and begin to separate what we think are the wheat and the tares, whether it is in our congregation, our neighborhood, or our world. It's a subtle, yet powerfully destructive sin, as it slowly divides us into those "like Christ" and those "needing more of God", with the key word here being "divide." And the subtlety lies in its ability to mask itself in terms of spirituality, rather than with its real face: pride.

"Well of course it's pride," you might want to say, suggesting that I'm a complete schlemiel. But I think that it's more than just that. It's pride of a different kind, pride that seeks comfort, rather than pride that seeks to put down. But in doing so, we enter into the biggest trap of them all, namely making ourselves out to be God.

More often than not, it seems that pride rears its ugly head only to point out how much better we are than someone else; in effect, we are patting ourselves on the back, in order to tell ourselves how good we are. But we do so because we are afraid to look at the other person's depravity and reach out to them, we are afraid to see the other person's brokenness and be reminded of our own bitter struggles, we are afraid to reach out and help because of the resulting complications we may have to endure. Pride masks itself in its attempts to comfort our own depravity, and leads us into assuming we know the better way. But the moment we do that, we assume we have the knowledge of what good and evil are in the sight of God. True, we do know what some of the big numbers are, but the moment we begin to compare our spiritual lives to that of others, or our spiritual fate to that of others, or our spiritual practices to that of others, we are assuming that we know the mind of God, and thereby take God's place in doling out comfort. Of course, the irony of all of this is that the moment we think we're something is when God starts to think that we're not much of anything. Because, after all, the only true measure for our spiritual lives is God Himself, and if we ever fail to realize that we'll spend the rest of our lives just seeking the empty comfort of our own making.

Posted by Michael at 4:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The other day, when dialoguing with God, He managed to hit me up with the commandment to not pursue any women. Separately, He gave the same word to my Priest (aka Fr. Hard Ass), who shared a rather vivid image with me. End result: Don't date.

So this morning, while running with a friend, she asked me point blank if anything was going on with <name withheld>, to which I had to answer "No," and give a bit of history, namely what God said.

Problem is, I'm in a pickle, you see, as the first time, the message was a bit garbled on the answering machine, meaning I wasn't listening correctly, and I decided to go on a casual date with someone, just for kicks and giggles. Hmmm... Then my priest gives me that secondary word, and I end up realizing what I should have first time around, namely that I shouldn't be doing the casual dating thing. So I back away.

Ergo, enter the pickle. I'm left with the standard lame excuse "God told me not to date you," which is only lame in that so many guys and girls use this excuse to get out of something while simultaneously sounding spiritual, which is to say, trying to blame God for their own psychological and emotional defects.

Trouble is, of course, this is what God told me. But, I of course, still sound lame, because of the abundance of people who've used this excuse.

Now, I don't plan on wavering, and I know if confronted, I'll speak the truth, even though it sounds like a lame excuse, because I've learned a valuable lesson over these past several months.:
When God says "Jump!", I say "How high?"

Yes, doing as God has asked without knowing what He wants, and what will come of it is a bit scary, and a bit strange at times, but the results, I've learned are always worth it, no matter how much I kick and scream and get mad in the process. I don't need to know why I'm doing something; I just need to do it.

In all of my recent past experiences in obedience, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow has always been worth it, and different from what I expected, which is to say, a whole lot better than what I thought was coming up at the end, to which I have to say, if I'm God's Pavlov Dog, I think my stimulus-response circuits are getting tuned up: I'm salivating already...

Posted by Michael at 1:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Last night I awoke to lightning and thunder, and in my dreary daze I felt as though the thunder was God's wrath, and the lightning was Him trying to smite me...

only he was missing.

Thankfully, this concept stuck in my head only as long as I was halfway asleep, and didn't make it out of bed with me — well, not entirely, anyway.

Still, I started thinking, "Why would God miss, anyway? I'm a pretty big target, and He's got perfect aim..." I suppose more to the point though, is why I was waking up in the middle of the night thinking that God was trying to smite me.

I think it would have to do with the fact that God's been really laying the discipline on thick recently, and I was yet again forgetting that I'm building character & perseverance, and not just getting my ass whooped with the Rod of Righteousness.

Still, it didn't really help much to read in today's Daily Office the words "God will strike you, you whitewashed wall!" or hear about the withered fig tree that Jesus cursed, or that "Fire blazed among their followers; a flame consumed the wicked." ;o)

Posted by Michael at 4:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The other day I told my priest that the reason I like him is that he's a hard ass.

For several years I've been looking for spiritual directors or counselors who'll give it to you straight, won't sugarcoat, or soften the blow. And I would tell people this when I first met with them, telling them that I gave them permission to hit me as hard as they could with whatever they had in their arsenal. Why? Because I find that sometimes I overlook things, or perhaps my psychological mechanisms developed over the years keep me from getting out of a not-so-productive pattern. So, in order to change or even realize what needs changing, I need to be confronted with something at point-blank range.

Nevertheless, telling these people this did not seem to work. Regardless of what I told them, I was coddled, comforted, eased into a space where I could comfortably disregard any real growth. Damn shame, really. On my own it is difficult to see the areas in which I need growth, or areas in which I am facing denial. Possible, but a very slow process.

Since none of these individuals seemed to have much insightful to say, I reasoned that the following reasons could be at fault: 1) they could notice nothing about me which needed changing.
2) they had no insights or wisdom to share with me.
3) they didn't care.
4) they were not hearing from God about what they ought to tell me.
5) they were too "nice" or too worried to hit me with a hard punch.

Obviously, the answer to #1 is "ha-ha, yeah right," the answer to #2 is "probably not," and to #3 is "doubtful." For numbers 4 & 5, however, I usually thought that I was correct: most likely they were not hearing anything from God, and if they were, they were simply avoiding telling me.

Fr. Rich isn't like that, and that's why I like him. The other day he dropped a cinder block on my head (I still have the cuts to prove it), and my first response was "Hallelujah!" (and then I think I said, "Please sir, may I have another?") Fr. Rich is good like that: hard when he needs to be hard, and soft when the situation calls for it.

Our Bishop came to town the other day and installed Fr. Rich as the Rector of All Saints. I know that many exciting things will happen at our church because of what God is doing — partly because he's installed a hard ass as his servant there.

Posted by Michael at 11:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Someone once told me that "Years ago I made the mistake of asking God to teach me patience," then they looked at me and said, "Don't ever do that."

Well, unfortunately I didn't listen to this sage advice and promptly made whole bucketfulls of wrong prayers.

They're wrong only in the sense that God is bound to answer them, and we may not be ready to deal with the consequences and the uncomfortableness that comes with it. God has told us that He'll answer any request that we ask according to His will, and any prayer that makes us more like Christ or draws us closer to Him is certainly in His will.

Trouble is, sometimes I've forgotten my bucketfulls of prayers; or more specifically, that I've prayed them. I realized the other day that some of the crud I've been experiencing in the last few years is actually just an answer to prayer. As a for instance, I used to regularly pray, "God, give me the heart of David, the passion of Peter, and the perseverance of Paul." Tall order for any mere mortal (and stupidly cocky simultaneously), and I certainly wasn't prepared for the turns my life would take (still ain't). My nasty attitude toward God in the past few years was a result of me failing to realize that God was answering prayers that I'd forgotten I'd prayed.

So, if you get the urge, pray wrong. Just when the prayers start getting answered, don't forget you prayed them.

Posted by Michael at 11:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The other day I had the pleasure of spending time with someone who is easily offended. Of course, I say pleasure with my sarcastic hat on.

So how exactly do you offend someone?

Be yourself, and say what's on your mind. Someone is bound to be offended.

This little excursion into the pleasantries of offending intrigued me enough to wonder why some people are so easily offended.

Bottom line: people are seeking control & power because they feel powerless and weakened by whatever it is you said or did, and the quickest reaction to feeling threatened is agression. It's your basic Fight or Flight mechanism kicking in. Taking offense, takes the form of aggression in that it demands modification of our behaviors to suit the offended person's wishes; and generally that involves some form of verbal assault.

Needless to say, offending someone has much less to do with what we have said or done, and much more to do with how the offended party has chosen to react. Two people can hear the same thing and one will be offended, while another not. What is the difference? Only that one feels threatened or weakened, while the other does not.

Psychology tells us that this has to do with a person's knowledge of self - or lack of it. A person with a strong sense of self will not be offended or easily angered by dissenting opinions or disparaging remarks. A person with a weak sense of self will allow themselves to agree with an insult, or find their position weakened by a dissenting opinion because of the operative concept, "I must be right." (Or, put another way, they waver on where they stand, and a dissenting opinion threatens to draw them in, releasing their hold on an argument that feels safe.)

Theology would tell us that it has to do with a person's focus in life: Self or God. A self-focused person will be offended often, because he recognizes Truth as such, and it conflicts with his sinful desires. A God-focused person won't be easily offended, because he recognizes Truth, and submits himself to discipline if necessary. Or, he recognizes the source of the angry remarks in the other person.

I've never really been one to be offended by disagreeing remarks or commentary intended to bring me down a notch — probably because I'm an arrogant prick — but I have much first hand experience being offended by the Truth and by God. And it's always been because I didn't want to give up my solidarity, my free choice to choose the most pleasurable lifestyle, or the easiest way of getting a toehold into heaven.

And all that was because I didn’t know what I really wanted; I had an underdeveloped sense of my spiritual self. I thought that I wanted the power to choose my own way, but what I really wanted was Love and the complete acceptance that comes with it. Being confronted with powerlessness as an option was frightening, until I realized that to be loving you end up clothing yourself in Power — just not your own.

And that’s all an offended person is searching for: love. It’s just that they don’t know how to get it without seeking power or control, maybe because truly being accepted is scary.

[original on 8/1, though posted retroactively on 8/2 - blame it on lazy cut-n-paste.]

Posted by Michael at 4:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)