Jesus drank the cup (The gospel in Jeremiah 25)

I was reading in Jeremiah today and my mind made a few connections that I thought I’d share with whoever cares to read this.  I’m looking to top it off with a gospel rant at the end – let me know how I do.

Thus the LORD, the God of Israel, said to me: “Take from my hand this cup of the wine of wrath, and make all the nations to whom I send you drink it.  They shall drink and stagger and be crazed because of the sword that I am sending among them.

The ‘me’ here is Jeremiah, a prophet sent to speak to an unrepentant and rebellious people of Israel.  However, what immediately struck me about this passage is that it is not addressed to Israel but to the “nations”, that is, the whole world.  The cup is  full of the “wine of wrath” and is symbolic of God’s judgment upon the nations.

So I took the cup from the LORD’s hand, and made all the nations to whom the LORD sent me drink it… [At this point Jeremiah gives a laundry list of just about all the nations of the earth.  For the sake of space, I’ll leave it out.] all the kings of the north, far and near, one after another, and all the kingdoms of the whole world that are on the face of the earth.

Again, let me emphasize the “everybodyness” of this passage.  It’s crystal clear.  If you’re curious, go check out the part that I left out; it’s long.  All of that to say that God’s wrath is to be poured out on everyone, including me, including you.

Then you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel: Drink, be drunk and vomit, fall and rise no more because of the sword that I am sending among you.

And if they refuse to accept the cup from your hand to drink, then you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the LORD of hosts: You must drink! For behold, I begin to work disaster at the city that is called by my name, and shall you go unpunished? You shall not go unpunished, for I am summoning a sword against all the inhabitants of the earth, declares the LORD of hosts.

As the LORD’s prophet, Jeremiah is sent to pronounce judgment on the people of the earth.  He tells all of us to drink this cup of wrath and to “fall and rise no more”.  The wrath and judgment of God is final.  You don’t get up after this beat down.  You’re down forever – in hell to be specific.

What’s more, this isn’t a choice you get to make.  When we refuse God’s wrath, when we presume to say “who is God to judge me?”, when we say “that hell thing isn’t for me”, when we say “I’ve been a good person”, God says in response, “You must drink!”  You must drink.  Here’s the point in the passage where we’re tempted to forget that it is addressed to everyone, including you, including me.  We have all sinned.  We have all done wrong.  We have all fallen short of a holy God’s standard of perfection.  God then asks us through Jeremiah, “shall you go unpunished?”  The unspoken but resounding answer is “No way!” God’s justice demands that wickedness be punished.  And let me emphasize again that what he is saying here is that you and I and everyone must be punished forever in hell.  It’s not a choice; it’s a fact.

“The LORD will roar from on high and from his holy habitation utter his voice; he will roar mightily against his fold, and shout, like those who tread grapes, against all the inhabitants of the earth.  The clamor will resound to the ends of the earth, for the LORD has an indictment against the nations; he is entering into judgment with all flesh, and the wicked he will put to the sword,” declares the LORD.

What I take away from this section is that God is going to come with force.  Everyone on the earth will know that he has a score to settle with all humanity.

Thus says the LORD of hosts: Behold, disaster is going forth from nation to nation, and a great tempest is stirring from the farthest parts of the earth!

And those pierced by the LORD on that day shall extend from one end of the earth to the other. They shall not be lamented, or gathered, or buried; they shall be dung on the surface of the ground.

This section refers to God’s wrath as a “stirring tempest,” a storm that’s gathering “the farthest parts of the earth.”  Every person everywhere is adding to the wrath of God stored up against all humanity.  One day that wrath will pour forth, and on that day, we are told, no one will lament for those crushed by God’s judgment.  On that day, it will be clear that God was in the right and we were in the wrong.  On that day, the unanimous assessment of the pouring out of God’s wrath will be, “That needed to happen; it was right that that happened.”

So now what?  That passage leaves us with a pretty bleak outlook for humanity as a whole and for us as individuals.  Most of you know where this is going, but I want to take a certain route to the “yay Jesus!” gospel message at the end.  If you remember, God’s wrath is referred to as a cup at the beginning of Jeremiah 25.  Where else in scripture do we read references to a cup?  The place that came to my mind is in reference to Christ’s passion on the cross.

When James and John’s approached Jesus and asked if her sons could sit at his side in his kingdom he replied to the young men, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?” (Matthew 20:22)  Here Jesus hints at a mission that he has been given from the Father that the disciples don’t yet seem to have their heads around.

Later, we are given more insight into what Jesus means by “the cup”.  On the night that Jesus was betrayed, he prayed in the garden of Gethsemane, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” (Matthew 26:39)  The cup that Jesus is referring to is the wrath of God that will be poured out upon him in his crucifixion. This is the same cup that Jeremiah referred to.  The cup is God’s wrath, and Jesus has been sent by the Father to drink it.

Moments later, Jesus was betrayed by Judas and arrested.  As we know, Peter rose up to defend Jesus, cutting of the ear of one of the guards.  John’s gospel tells us that Jesus rebuked Peter, saying, “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?” (John 18:11)  He told Peter that this is the way it must happen so that the scripture can be fulfilled.

Jesus was then arrested, tried, stripped naked, beaten, spat upon, scourged, crucified, and killed.  He drank the cup, completing the mission that God had sent him to do.

So what does this mean?  As we saw in Jeremiah 25, God has appointed that each of us must drink the cup of his wrath.  His justice demands this.  But God loves us, and the story doesn’t end there.  Not being willing that any of us should perish, he sent his Son into the world to live a sinless life, and then, taking the cup out of our hands and placing it in his, told Jesus to drink it.  Submitting to his Father (Philippians 2), Jesus then drank the cup of wrath so we wouldn’t have to.  That is an awesome story.  But it’s so much more than just a story.  It’s the truth.

Whoever believe in the Son has eternal life; whoever does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him. -John 3:36

God has appointed for you to drink a cup of wrath.  Jesus took that cup as his own and drank it so you wouldn’t have to.  If you haven’t accepted Christ and believed in him, that cup is still in our hands.  And justice demands that you drink it.  How amazing that God would take such a burden upon himself.

There is salvation in no other name.  The gospel is for everyone (even Christians).

“These Late Watches of the Night” (My first attempt at poetry)

Father, redeem these late watches of the night

That have too long been a stronghold of the Enemy.

May these hours be spent no longer

In service of my flesh:

 

Aimless surfing across these pages,

(Haven’t I been to this site already tonight?)

Fruitless browsing in search of nothing,

(Isn’t it you that I should be searching for?)

Loveless skimming of these posts.

(Should I have prayed for her tonight

Instead of liking her status?)

 

Looking through these pictures, click by click,

On one that it shouldn’t, my gaze remains for a moment,

Short enough (I think) not to count as lust,

But long enough to wound my soul (and her’s).

I’m aching for something – a laugh?

The video ends; Youtube too has left me empty.

On to the next one.

 

Laziness – a little folding of the hands to rest,

I make a list of productive things to do,

Things that I will do when the sun rises.

Now? Maybe I’ll go play a video game or something,

Rejoicing over the violence before my eyes,

All the while a sermon playing behind,

so I feel like I’m not wasting my time.

 

Season Six just came out; I’ll watch those episodes,

Offering my time at the altar of Entertainment.

So what if I’ve seen this movie ten times before?

“This film,” I say, “is worthy of my praise.”

But I leave your praises unsung in these hours.

Instead I sing along with the hymns of idols,

Written to the gods of Money, Sex, and Pride.

 

All too often this wicked waste is the norm,

But the greater wickedness is in what I don’t do.

How many times have you waited for me

To meet you in prayer, my Loving Father?

How many time has your Spirit waited

In the pages of that beautiful book?

(So much more than a book.)

 

By day your Word is my delight,

But now I push it from my mind (and my desk).

By day I listen to the voice of your Spirit,

But now I drown it out with music that grieves Him.

By day I speak of the unmatched worth of your Son,

But now his “worth” is outmatched.

Wretched man that I am.

 

It is said that light reveals all things,

But hypocrisy is revealed by the darkness.

 

Glorious Lord of Heaven, Earth, Day, and Night

May your Kingdom come to this darkness within!

Strengthen our weary souls in these hours

When the demons emerge to do their work.

King Jesus, our Savior of limitless might,

May your glory shine forth as the noonday

even in these late watches of the night.*

 

*Written at 2:30 AM.

 

Zach Update. Blog Rebirth.

After an extended absence from the oh-so-glamourous world of writing posts that nobody reads, I’m back.  I changed the background and stuff; so that’s pretty exciting.

My life has seen a decent amount of reshaping over the past few months.  For financial reasons, I decided in December to not return to Wheaton College for my fourth semester.  Right before Christmas, I moved back in with my parents.  Right now, I’m working full time to pay down some debt and get myself financially situated before I return to school to finish my degree.  Odds are that I will not be returning to Wheaton, which breaks my heart more than just about anything.  I haven’t thought it all out completely yet, but I see a couple options for where I will attend school after my time off.  If I decide that I want to finish my degree in Bible, I’m looking to apply to Moody Bible Institute for the Fall semester.  If I decide that I want to finish my degree Philosophy or English for my undergrad, I will apply to some state schools for the Spring semester of 2012.  Either way, my plans for a life in ministry still haven’t changed.  I’m still aspiring (by God’s grace) to the pastorate.  I’m still looking to go to seminary after undergrad, whether my degree is in Bible or not.

All of that is still a long way out.  For now, I’m saving money, reading books, and looking for productive ways to spend my free time (like blogging).

On humility in ministry. (Richard Baxter’s ‘The Reformed Pastor’)

Taken from Richard Baxter’s The Reformed Pastor.

One of our most heinous and palpable sins is pride. This is a sin that has too much interest in the best of us, but which is more hateful and inexcusable in [those in full-time ministry] than in other men. Yet is it so prevalent in some of us, that it inditeth our discourses, it chooseth our company, it formeth our countenances, it putteth the accent and emphasis upon our words. It fills some men’s minds with aspiring desires, and designs: it possesseth them with envious and bitter thoughts against those who stand in their light, or who by any means eclipse their glory, or hinder the progress of their reputation.

This section on the “Use of Humiliation” absolutely wrecked me.  It made me (and continues to make me) question my motivation towards ministry.  Indeed, it did humiliate me.  I’m currently in a process of self-examination because of it.  The reason I post it on here is twofold:  I hope that by unpacking this text I may better understand it, letting its charge sink more deeply into me.  Secondly, I think that I know enough people who also aspire to ministry that, in the off chance that they read this, may benefit from the same type of humiliation.

With that said, I’m just going to highlight different points that stuck out to me in these 10 pages or so.  Most of what is written here is merely a paraphrase of what Baxter said.  Almost none of it is original.

1. Does pride hinder you from talking with the unsaved as earnestly as you should? The truths we have committed our lives to are a matter of eternal life and death.  God commands us to speak earnestly about these things, but pride controls the way we go about obeying this most holy commandment of God.  Pride says to us, “If you talk like that, people are going to think you’re crazy.  You will make them think you’re just ranting. Why don’t you be a little more chill about it?It’s not that big of a deal.”  Even though we’re talking about God, if the way we do it is inspired by Satan, how can we expect to be effective.
2. Does pride make you seek your own glory instead of the glory of God? Pride makes us seek ourselves and deny God when we should seek God’s glory and deny ourselves.  We should ask, “What should I do, and how shall I do it, to please God best, and do the most good?”  Instead we ask, “What should I do, and how should I do it, to make people think that I’m a smart and skilled Christian, and to be applauded by all that see me do it?”  When we finish doing ministry, we’re more concerned with whether people think we did a good job than whether or not we helped anyone in the eternal sense.  If we feel like we are highly thought of, we rejoice as if we have achieved our goal; but if we feel like people think that we’re no one special, we get depressed like we missed what we were shooting for.
3. Does pride make you jealous of people who are more successful in ministry than you? We look at other people in ministry with intense jealousy.  It’s as if we think that the glory that they receive belongs to us. We hate other people’s gifts of ministry if they at all take the attention off of us and our gifts of ministry.  We’re on the same team!  Aren’t all Christians members of the body of Christ?  Therefore, we should thank God for the gifts that he has blessed other with in ministry.  We’re condemning in our hearts the very love of Christ being lived out.  Should we insult and be jealous of a fellow servant of Christ who is merely trying to do the work of our Master?
4. Does pride make it difficult for you to do ministry in partnership with others? Do we cringe at the idea of working in ministry with someone else because it means that we will have to fight with them for precedence?  There are times when we would rather fly solo in ministry (even if the ministry load is more than we can bear!) because it means we won’t have to share the glory of being the minister with another.
5. Does pride make you value our opinions over what is actually true? We value so highly our own opinions that we can’t stand to have people propagate their opinions if they are at all different from ours.  We think that if they disagree with us, they disagree with God.  Since when are we infallible?  We say that we’re passionate about truth when the only thing we’re really passionate about is ourselves.  We refuse to give up on arguments because we don’t want to appear weak.  When one of our views is condemned, we see it as a condemnation of our person, not our opinions. Then we complain that we are being attacked and abused.
6. Does pride make you love only people who agree with you? We love people who will say what we say, agree with us, and promote our reputation even though in all other respects they are not at all worthy of our respect.  We then hate people who contradict us, are different from us, tell us plainly when we screw up, and point out our faults.  Our pride makes us think that everyone hates us, even when they do not.
7. Does pride make you unable to accept rebuke? We’re so sensitive sometimes that someone can barely even touch us without our feelings getting hurt.  It’s as if the only people who are allowed to rebuke us are those who are very good at paying compliments.  Do we only accept criticism when it is laced with compliments?  If compliments are not predominant in a rebuke, we think of it as an unbearable insult and then spiral into depression and self-pity.
8. Does pride make you only able to minister to those who are already well thought of? Are we more likely to approach and encourage the kid that everyone likes at youth group than the lonely one who is rarely surrounded by a group of friends. Are we unwilling to minister to the homeless? The poor? The unpopular? All of this because of our own reputation?

Ouch.

The difference between wanting something and willing something.

I often beat myself up over my fleshly desires and thought patterns. I read recently that to want something and to will something are different things.  This got me thinking, and I came to the conclusion that whoever wrote this (It was some blogger or something; I can’t remember) was correct.  I may want a cookie but I haven’t actually willed that I will have a cookie until I get up to go grab one (or twelve) out of the pantry.  In the same way, I may desire something sinful, but I have not yet willed that I will sin.

As always, Jesus is our supreme example here.  He did not desire to go to the cross, but submitted to the will of his Father.  Remember, Jesus never sinned, but he did desire not to go to the cross (which would have been a sin of disobedience to his Father).  We can then conclude that it is not a sin to desire something that is sinful. When this occurred to me earlier, it was an immense encouragement.  As I said before, I often beat myself up over my desires, wondering why I can’t seem to get my flesh (thought habits, uses of time, attitudes) in line with what I know is truly important.  I usually don’t actually choose what my flesh desires, but somehow I still feel guilty for having desired it.  I realized today that this guilt is not a conviction from the Holy Spirit, but rather an accusation from Satan.

Our regenerate desires are constantly at war with our fleshly desires.  However, it is not what we want at any given moment that determines if we are in sin; it is instead our decisions and behavior that condemn us.  Oftentimes, outward obedience will fail to completely convey the inner conflict over the decision to obey.  This was certainly the case for Jesus’ passion.  He went to the cross without hesitation, but his spirit was in such agony that he sweat drops of blood (Luke 22:44).  Yet, in all of this he was without sin.

I encourage you (as I did) to examine not your desires, but your decions and your actions.  If you make a decision that is in line with what the Spirit desires, God is glorified.  Satan lies to us and tells us that God is disappointed in us because we desire what we know would be sin.  However, this is not the case.  If it were, Jesus would have been in sin in Gethsemane.  Even if everything in your flesh screams in protest, demanding that you fulfill your gluttony, passions, lusts, or covetous desires, but you stil will to follow Christ, God is honored.  In fact, if you say no to your flesh in order to say yes to Christ, he is even more honored.  The more you wanted what you refused, the more Jesus is glorified.  In every decision to deny our flesh, we are proclaiming to the world (and echoing back to our Father) that God is much more valuable than our petty desires of the flesh.

We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ, being ready to punish every disobedience when your obedience is complete. -2 Corinthians 10:5-6 (ESV)

Here, scripture tells us to take every thought captive to obey Christ.  It does not tell us not to think those thoughts in the first place.  Our goal should not be to control our thoughts, but to redirect them to glorify the King.  Again, it is not wrong to think these things, or to desire them.  Guilt should rise only when our flesh’s desires outweigh our regenerate desires and override our will, separating it from Christ’s will.  Like Jesus, we should say, “Not my will, but yours, be done.” (Luke 22:42).

In addition to this, it has recently occurred to me that no one ever said that sanctification was easy.  Again, we should not despair when we are having significant trouble shaking a sin pattern or selfish attitude.  Paul calls this a war.  A war is fought with many battles; some we win, some we lose.  We know who wins in the end, but we must each ask ourselves this question, “Who is winning the battle in my life?”  Are your regenerate desires, more often than not, directing your decision in a way that will glorify Christ or does your flesh generally win out?

If your desire to follow Christ is stronger than any of your other desires, there is absolutely nothing for you to feel guilty about.  Your reaction in this case should be worship!

My beloved… work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. -Philippians 2:12

Praise God that a sinner has somehow been redeemed so that she no longer blindly follows her desires toward sin!  Praise God that he is working in the life of the young man who now chooses purity even against the strongest desires of his flesh.  This is the miracle of regeneration.  Our fleshly desires have been replaced with a desire to live for Christ.  That, if we stop to think about it, should make us tremble.

However, if your decisions consistently fall in the opposite direction, to appease the desires of your flesh, this is a serious problem that calls for some intense self examination.

For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.  For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.  For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs – heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. -Romans 8:13-17

Oftentimes we make scripture more complicated than it is.  This text is rather simple; if you live according to the flesh you will die.  This is not an earthly death – everyone will die an earthly death – but an eternal death.  If your life portrays a pattern of living and making decisions according to your fleshly desires, you will not be glorified with Christ.  Paul says that we are fellow heirs with Christ only if we suffer with him.  Now we have gotten back to where we started.  Christ desired to not go to the cross, but by the Spirit, he obeyed his Father.  He willed that he would suffer, and by denying our fleshly desires we prove that we have been united to Christ in his suffering.  If we do not will that we suffer by denying our flesh, we do not have the Spirit within us.  If we do not have the Spirit within us we are not saved, and we are headed for hell.  It’s that serious, and it’s that simple.

Some thoughts on the “free will” vs. “sovereignty of God” debate

It takes different forms, but the dispute between Calvinism and Arminianism is one of the most common (and confusing) theological debates that takes place among believers.  Because of its prominence, it is probably the most tired and worn out theological issue within the scope of Christianity.  For this reason, I won’t get too much into the nuances of the debate itself.

My reason for writing this blog is somewhat personal.  I’ve seen the harm and disunity that this discussion can create within a community of believers, and that more than anything is what grieves me.  It seems that bitterness and resentment follow this debate wherever it goes.  Some outspoken person brings up that they’re a Calvinist and some other outspoken person declares the logical impossibility of the position.  Soon enough insults will start flying (usually behind people’s backs): “Maybe if so-and-so read their Bible more…” etc.  Eventually, Team Free Will and Team Calvin form, having unofficial gatherings where they bash the opposing side of the debate.

Like I said, I don’t really want to open up arguments right now.  However, I do want to point out the glaringly unchristian way in which this debate often plays itself out.  In many ways, I’m rebuking myself here.  I’ve been just as much an offender here as anyone (and quite possibly more so).  I’ve used silly reasons to justify my stern and harsh tone like, “Jesus spoke authoritatively, so I can too!”  The only way that authority transfers to anyone else is if they are directly quoting scripture itself.  Scriptural authority does not transfer to my extra-biblical explanations.  I think that a heavy dose of humility is needed in this matter – regardless of which side of the debate you find yourself on.  We need to remember that both sides are seeking to know God better, to get a fuller understanding of his revelation.  I think that if we keep that motivation at the forefront of our debates, they can become an act of worship instead of an occasion for disunity.  We should be yearning to know God better, not yearning to win an argument.  (However, I do want to point out, for my own sake and for others, that pride is, more often than not, the primary motivation in said discussions.  That is sin.  That needs to be repented of.)

Another quick thought before I go.  I’ve run into more than a few people who respond to debates like this with “I just don’t think little theological minutiae  like this is important.”  If what they’re trying to say is that the debate itself is often unhelpful, I heartily agree (this is what I’ve just been talking about in the rest of the blog).  However, I would disagree with the assertion that it is unimportant.  If you feel this way, I would simply ask you this: What could possibly be more important than right thinking about God?  If we have two opinions about God that are incompatible, the logical conclusion is that at least one of us is wrong in our opinion.  If one of us in wrong in the way that we think about God, that is a serious problem.  Our response then should be to seek God’s face in our discussion of our differing opinions, keeping him as our focus instead of ourselves.  We all agree (I hope) that the Bible is the infallible Word of God.  So let’s start thereand work our way out.

Good Friday Thoughts.

Just a few things that have struck me during my time in the Word and at church on this holiest of days.

1. Jesus’ silence. This especially stuck out to me during my reading of Luke’s account of the Passion.  I think it’s important for us to remember that Jesus was a completely innocent man. He spent an entire day being mocked, beaten, and spat upon by people who didn’t even know him, and not once did he lash out to defend himself. False accusations were brought against him. He said nothing. People misrepresented his words and his message. He said nothing. Caiaphas asked him to defend himself. He said nothing. Pilate asked him to defend himself. He said nothing. He was sentenced to death. He still said nothing. Any one of us would have exploded at the outrage of the proceedings that were leading to our execution, but he remained quiet. This is even more potent when you consider the fact that Jesus (Almighty God) is sustaining the life of his accusers as they ridicule him. He is granting the next breath to the executioner who is driving the nail through his hand. “Therefore, since we surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:1-2
2. Jesus was unable to exhale. I always knew that death upon a cross had something to do with suffocation, but I thought that meant that the criminal would have been unable to inhale.  I learned in the Good Friday service at my church today that the opposite is true.  Because of the strained position that Jesus in which was nailed to the cross, he would have been almost completely unable to exhale. He apparently would have been stuck in a state similar to the one we feel at the peak of a very deep breath.  When I tried to hold myself in this state, I realized quickly how tense and excruciating this must have been.  This gave me a deeper appreciation for the torture that Jesus endured on that day.
3. Something Pastor Jeff said. At the beginning of the Good Friday service, the campus pastor at Harvest Bible Chapel in Elgin said that we should remember today that Jesus death was not only for us, but also because of us.  It wasn’t the nails that held Jesus to the cross, it was every sin that I have committed in thought, word, deed, or attitude. “Mine, mine was the transgression, but thine the deadly pain. Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ‘Tis I deserve thy place!” -O Sacred Head Now Wounded
4. The ruthless crowd. A verse from Matthew struck me especially hard today. The crowd was so uninterested in whether Jesus was guilty or not, they just wanted him dead.  This point reiterates slightly my first observation. Jesus did absolutely nothing wrong.  I think this verse is most powerful when it is read in isolation, so that is the way I will present it: “‘Why? What evil has he done?’ But they shouted all the more, ‘Let him be crucified!'” Matthew 27:23

These are my thoughts. Now bring on Sunday morning.

Why Avatar should not win Best Picture tomorrow.

So I haven’t written on here in forever, so I’m posting something. This is a good way for me to get things going again because it doesn’t really require me doing any extra writing.

I wrote this for my logic class. The assignment was for me to find an opinion piece that I disagreed with, write a critique of it, and present a counter argument. Obviously, I had to keep principles of logic in mind throughout.

Here’s the article I found:

‘Avatar’ the best picture? With misgivings, yes – Stewart Oksenhorn

Something prevents me from calling “Avatar” the best film of the year. The story of a native people pitted in battle against a more technologically advanced, but morally and spiritually suspect culture, is simplistic and unoriginal. But my biggest criticism with “Avatar” is the concluding battle scene, in which the warriors fall away until the battle comes down to a mano-a-mano clash between the Earthling turned-Na’vi, Jake Scully, and the human — but inhumane — gun for hire, Col. Miles Qauritch (which rhymes with war-itch). Such a ground-breaking cinematic experience really deserves a more original ending, not one that writer-director James Cameron ripped from his own playbook (see, for example, “Terminator”).

But the question remains: Will Cameron find himself again on top of the world — even if this time, the world is the not-quite-graspable moon called Pandora — as he did when 1997’s “Titanic” took the top Academy Award statue? I think yes, that “Avatar” will edge the other top contender, the narrowly focused Iraq War story “The Hurt Locker,” directed by Cameron’s former wife, Kathryn Bigelow. The excellence of “The Hurt Locker” is in its subtlety and poetry; it requires the viewer to bring a lot of imagination and knowledge to the table. “Avatar” is a something-for-everyone piece of cake, scrumptious and easy to take. I never subscribe to the “mood of the voters” school of thinking — but if I did, I’d say that Academy voters are going to get behind a phenomenal money-maker in these rough financial times, and that the Iraq War has receded to the back of the popular consciousness.

On to the question of whether “Avatar” deserves to win. Despite my misgivings about the story and themes, I say yes. “Avatar” is a landscape-shifting movie event, one that reveals the full arsenal of the cinema experience like no other movie I can think of. My 10-year-old daughter, not generally an enthusiastic moviegoer, was captivated for the full nearly three hours. My wife, who isn’t warm to violence in film, raved, as did my mother, who usually goes for romantic comedies. I saw “Avatar” in 2-D and thought it wonderful, far beyond my expectations — and then saw it in 3-D, which was a whole other experience. Even in 2-D, I was awed, mystified, absorbed, emotionally engaged. And even able to put my criticisms way back in a corner, where they lay dormant and insignificant.

“Avatar” was monumental, memorable, a financial powerhouse, and, in an era of sharp dividing lines between cultural touchstones, an event that drew everyone in. Cameron swung for the fences, and connected. And while the storytelling was not perfect, and not original, it was effective, clear, engaging and adequate for the task. At the least, “Avatar” is far more deserving than “Titanic.”

Here is the paper I wrote in response:

More Deserving ≠ Deserving

This article, entitled “‘Avatar’ the best picture? With misgivings, yes”, was written for the Aspen Times by Stewart Oksenhorn.  The issue in question in this opinion piece is two fold: 1) Whether or not Avatar will win Best Picture at the 82nd Academy Awards and 2) whether or not Avatar is deserving of the award.  The first argument is mostly comparative, briefly stacking up Avatar against its primary competition, The Hurt Locker. However, in this analysis, I will focus on the latter argument (the one of deservedness).  Oksenhorn claims that the film is deserving of the award using several different inductive premises to build the case for his conclusion. Firstly, Oksenhorn claims that the film is deserving of the award as a holistic cinematic spectacle, saying is is a “landscape-shifting movie event, one that reveals the full arsenal of the cinema experience like no other movie”. Secondly, he uses the anecdotal evidence from his family members’ opinions of the movie as an argument for its merits. Finally, he makes an implicit claim that the visual prowess of the film all but overshadows its shortcomings.

Overall this argument is quite weak. We must remember what is at issue here, that is, if this film is deserving of the Best Picture award. The premises that Oksenhorn uses may well be legitimate claims about the film, but that does not necessarily mean they are valid reasons for its winning Best Picture. His first premise is the most relevant, but the following two are not nearly as pertinent. His family are by no means a representative sample of all moviegoers, neither are they experts on film. Also, the visual experience that “put [Oksenhorn’s] criticisms way back in a corner” does not change the fact that Avatar’s shortcomings are still shortcomings. As if this were not enough, Oksenhorn concludes his article with a red herring, “justifying” his opinion with the statement, “At the least, ‘Avatar’ is far more deserving than ‘Titanic.’” he directs attention away from the issue to a separate (though somewhat related) issue – whether James Cameron’s Titanic deserved to win Best Picture in 1998. In the end, Oksenhorn has hardly even posed an specific argument as to why Avatar ought to receive the award.  This is not to mention the confusion that arises when Oksenhorn says (at the beginning of the article) that Avatar is not the best film of the year but later says the exact opposite when he claims that it deserves to win the award for – what was it again? Oh yeah – Best Picture.  At best he has given a case that Avatar has some merit as a film, but by no means has he justified its possible honoring by the Academy.

Now to address the argument that Oksenhorn raises in this article: Does Avatar deserve a possible Best Picture win at the Academy Awards? The answer to this question is a firm ‘No.’ It seems almost too simple of a question to ask, but, generally speaking, which film should receive this award every year? Obviously, the overall best film of the year should be the winner.  Now the question that must be asked is ‘What does being the best film of the year entail.’ Obviously there is some room for disagreement on this point, but surely most people can agree on a set of criteria somewhere along these lines: the best picture of the year will be the most masterful piece of filmmaking presented within that given year; it will excel in many aspects of film such as acting, visual presentation, writing, directing, etc.; it will be free of any blaring shortcomings and fit together in a package that is superior to any other films released that year.  Although Avatar has been a box office smash (grossing over $700 million in the USA alone), the best picture of the year is not the film that the most people go to see. If that were the case, The Dark Knight would have won in 2008 – it did not even receive a nomination. The Best Picture should be nothing less than the best picture. For 2009, Avatar simply is not that movie.

When Avatar is examined in terms of this definition, it falls short of the profile in several different ways. Admittedly, the film is visual spectacle. Its 3D presentation and seamless computer imagery make it a land mark film – no doubt.  However, it is a landmark film only in terms of its visuals. Its screenplay and its story are terribly subpar. Its acting is near horrendous. Its musical score is solid, but nothing out of the ordinary. What is amazing is that many of these shortcomings have been universally acknowledged by critics (including Oksenhorn in his article), yet they still insist that Avatar deserves the award.  The film’s breathtaking visuals may distract the viewer from its flaws, but it does not make them disappear.

As an ensemble piece of filmmaking, there are several other more deserving films than Avatar.  The Hurt Locker is a perfectly executed and gut wrenching observation of the effects of war on the modern soldier. Its unflinching faithfulness to reality is uncomfortable for the viewer, and by the end, they are much more in touch with the frustrations of the Iraq War than they were with the sadness of the Na’vi at the destruction of “Home Tree”. Also, Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds keeps the audience engaged throughout with its spellbinding and witty dialogue – which, by the way, is in three different languages. The writing and direction that were required to bring this comical version of Nazi Europe to life is certainly worth of note. Also, District 9 is a landmark film in its own right, considering the new spin it put on the sci-fi genre (whereas Avatar stuck to long established sci-fi principles). Its narrow focus and powerful moments of character development drive its story with much more substance than mere visuals. Its late descent into a shoot-em-up action flick is a shortcoming, but by no means is it as blaring as the flaws that plague Avatar throughout. Obviously, I have not presented a holistic argument as to why any of these films ought to win the award. I am simply trying to make the point that these films have more going for them than Avatar’s pretty pictures.

Avatar is, admittedly, a visual masterpiece, but that is just one aspect of the film.  Many other efforts represent a more skillful sweep in filmmaking than does James Cameron’s adventures on Pandora.  If he becomes the King of the World for the second time, he will be an illegitimate king at best, a throne usurper at worst.

There you go. I hope this was enjoyable to read for someone out there. Peace out.

Zach is SOOO blessed.

All moved in at Wheaton College.  Fischer Hall. Four East. Dorm 70.

I’ve been barraged with all kinds of information about all kinds of things this weekend.  My mind is on overdrive (or Star Power if you prefer Guitar Hero) trying to remember names–I’m surprised how well I’m doing, honestly–policies, schedules, and everything in between.  There is a lot to process, and I’m more than a little overwhelmed.  It’s a good overwhelmed though.

The overwhelming reason for my being overwhelmed is how this weekend has reminded me over of my Heavenly Father’s amazing grace and abundant mercies in my life.  I’m going to unpack that a little bit in this blog.

Mercy is when I don’t get the crap I deserve for the being the idiot that I have been and continue to be.  I’m reminded of this because aside from God’s mercy I would not have even had a desire to go to Wheaton College.  I really had no intention of attending Wheaton about six months ago.  It’s only through a amazingly intricate series of developments, both circumstantially and internally, that I have ended up here.  First, I got free of some sin patterns in my life, which were extricated in a extremely succinct and supernatural way.

Within a couple months after that I developed a desire to serve my Savior through ministry.  This was after I had already applied at Wheaton, something I did mostly because it would make my parents happy.  In all honesty, I had no intention of and no desire to attend a Christian college when I applied.  All that changed rather suddenly when I received a call for ministry.  And I soon after received an acceptance letter from Wheaton College, a school that could both prepare me for a future ministry and stimulate me academically.

I don’t doubt for a second that God has orchestrated my life over the past year to bring me here for a very specific reason to fulfill His plan for my life.  There’s so much more to that story, but I am truly amazed by it and so thankful that God has put his hand on my life in such a way that He can direct my life in such a way that useless, selfish, prideful, and utterly depraved soul like mine can be redeemed and used for His glory and the advancement of his kingdom.  Mark Driscoll would say that I have been ‘regenerated’.

That’s what I’m here for: to allow God to shape me into the person he wants me to be so he can use me for his glory.

I don’t deserve any of this, but God has blessed me in so many ways.  I was brought up in a safe environment at home.  My parents are still married and live together.  My parents can afford to send me to a school like Wheaton.  This is school is also near home, allowing me to see my family semi regularly.

To sum things up, I am so overwhelmed and so thankful and so excited to begin my four years at Wheaton. 🙂

“Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!”

I’m afraid that you might die today… please read this.

We don’t think about it because we don’t like thinking about it. I don’t like thinking about it. But it’s something we should think about every single day. It is the irrefutable fact that no one wants to face, but everyone ultimately will face. The fact is this: you are going to die someday. That day could be tomorrow. That day could be today.

Whether we want to die or not has absolutely zero effect on whether or not it will happen. If you know me at all you know I’ll be talking about Jesus by the end of this post. And if you’re particularly perceptive you may have caught on to the fact that I’m trying scare you–manipulating you by clever rhetoric to force some sort of mindset in which you will be unable to argue with my conclusion. How dare you manipulate me Zach? I can think what I want; leave me alone. Many criticisms follow.

I am trying to scare you.  I’ll admit it.  Whether you’re a Christian or not, I’m trying to scare you.  Why? Because it’s the way Jesus did it. Jesus slapped people square in the face with the reality of their mortality.

Returning to my original train of thought, I charged you (and myself–this is a case where I’m writing a blog not only to share my thoughts with others, but to challenge my own complacency) to think about the fact that we will die. Not only that, but there is nothing we can do about it. Jesus asks in Luke 12:25, “which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?” We are helpless, utterly helpless, before this reality. That’s scary enough as it is, but even more terrifying is the fact that we do not know when we will face this end.  In Luke 12, Jesus follows this same train of thought saying, essentially, ‘Be ready to die because you don’t know when it’s going to happen.’

Some may respond to these truths and say something to the tune of, “Let’s live each moment to the fullest because we don’t know how much time we have! Let’s have a good time! Live with no regrets! Let’s make lots of money and buy lots of stuff and relax!”  Jesus addressed this mentality too.  In fact he did so in the same chapter I quoted earlier:

And [Jesus] told them a parable saying, “The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, ‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods.  And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whos will they be?’ So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich towards God.”

Sadly, this is a perfect picture of, I believe, almost every single person in America.  The goal is to make money, get enough money so you don’t have to work, and then just relax (retirement).  What foolishness!  The United States of America–yes, the land of the free and the home of the brave–is the largest assemblage of idiots on the face of the planet!  We are, essentially, all working towards a happy retirement–one, I might add, that we aren’t even sure we’re going to see!  Jesus called this man a fool.  Would he call me a fool?  Would he call you a fool?

The culmination of a man’s existence is in his death.  The most important day of a woman’s life will be the day she dies.  Will you be ready?  Are you ready?  Are you rich towards God?

Fear is a powerful thing.  It allows us to ignore everything else to focus on a particular something that threatens our comfort or even our existence.  Imagine that man approached you in the street or even walked into your house and pointed a gun directly at you.  You are filled to the brimming point with fear.   How does fear function at this point?  Your entire being will focus in on a single need.  A single goal.  The goal in this case is your own survival.  Every single part of your brain power will be focused in on that one question, “How do I survive?”  If the TV is on, you won’t laugh at the joke Conan O’Brien made; if you have something in the oven, you won’t care if it burns; if the man asks for your money, you won’t care if he takes it–as long as that means you’ll survive.  This is the power of fear.  Only a fool would ignore the man standing in front of them with a gun; only a fool would continue doing what they were doing as if he weren’t there; only a fool would say, “Oh man, I’m not sure when this guy’s gonna shoot me so I’ll just sit here and enjoy my TV show and hope he doesn’t shoot me before my pizza is finished cooking–man, that would really stink if I didn’t get to eat my pizza.”

Now let’s apply this back to the original fear: the general fear of death.  The reality is that you have metaphorical man pointing a gun at you every single day.  You could personify him as the grim reaper if you like.  You don’t know when he’s going to pull the trigger.  Except this guy is going to pull the trigger.  There’s nothing you can do to stop him.

So what are you going to do about it?

Jesus didn’t just talk about death, however.  He talked about life–eternal life.  Read one of the gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John) to find out what.  Or just ask me.  You have no idea how much I would love to talk to you about it, honestly. 🙂

I’m afraid for myself.  And I’m afraid for you.