Blind

At work today, some of the kids asked a co-worker of mine why she was wearing sunglasses. She then explained to them that they were not sunglasses at all, but regular specially tinted glasses (which they were). Apparently some of them didn’t believe her and needed some more convincing. They asked: “Are you blind like Mr. Dan?” I was sweeping up some plato crumbs from off the floor while listening to all of this and at this point I smiled inside. To keep these little guys from always snatching for my glasses, I had told them I was blind without them so they better not touch them (which is for the most part true), because some of them wouldn’t listen when I told them they were a lot of money. My coworker then said that I wasn’t blind and that they were her regular glasses. Refusing to believe this fabrication, one little boy said, “Mr. Dan, if you…get to heaven and are still blind, then go find Jesus. He will put his hands on your eyes and make it so that you’re not blind.” And that’s how the Greek Orthodox little dude at the YMCA became my hero.

Matthew 21:15-16

“But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying out in the temple, ‘Hosanna to the Son of David!’ they were indignant, and they said to him, ‘Do you hear what these are saying?’ And Jesus said to them, ‘Yes; have you never read, “Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise”?’”

Our Sports Obsession

So its the Phils vs. the Yankees in the World Series Classic. People are going nuts. Especially Phillies fans.

Here’s a few examples of the craziness:

*After they won this year’s NLCS, some dude jumped on a stopped taxi and then fell off it as it drove away. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0P9×0cLCLD0

*I heard two songs already devoted to this year’s Phillies. One was a remix of The Black-Eyed Peas “I Gotta Feeling.”  The other was an unofficial theme song called “Guerilla*Delphia”

*A woman in Bensalem, PA (a neighborhood of suburban Philadelphia) was just arrested for allegedly prostituting herself out for two World Series tickets http://news.aol.com/article/woman-charged-with-offering-sex-for/739640

So people are rioting, putting themselves in physical harm, singing songs of adoration, and prostituting themselves all for the sake of the Phillies. Sports are not inherently bad. But from one Phillies fan to the others, a lot of what we do sounds an awful lot like idolatry. We worship what we are willing to get hurt for, sell ourselves out for, what we sing about/to.

Violence Revisited Part 1

Ok, so it’s been over a week since my last post and I should really write. Since last time, I’ve had a couple of cool ideas I wanted to mess around with, but none of them pertaining to my last topic. As I promised to cover a potential solution to the problem of violence in my next post, I felt it unfair to delve into a different tangent.

With that said, after much pondering, I think it’s practically impossible to find a solution to the violence in Philadelphia. Let me explain. Let’s say the solution to the problem lies in some sort of program, run by the government, a non-profit organization, or whatever. Fiscally speaking, the money for an extensive city government based program to curb violence literally isn’t there, at least in the short run. This year Michael Nutter said Philadelphia’s budget was so bad that they were going to shut down libraries all over the city (yet they still have enough money to shoot off fireworks for the 4th of July – where are our priorities?) and now city workers are not being paid because the state is having a problem putting this year’s budget together. While curbing violence will take a steady effort for years to come, for any programs to start stopping violence now, there needs to be money now. A budget crisis really keeps the wheels rolling on creating a program of some sort to stop violence.

However, even if plans could begin now while waiting for sort of funding to come (either public or private), I do not think that a solution will be reached, at least not the one we’re really looking for. What do I mean by that, the solution we’re really looking for? Say that a program was set up so that murders dropped by 90% in the city of Philadelphia next year, or even over the next five years. People would be stunned. Mayors from all over the country would want some social scientists to study the program and see how it could be tailored to fit their own cities, especially those steeped in violence. Michael Nutter and City Council would be hailed as heroes. Everybody would say that program was a huge success…everybody, that is, except for the mothers of those people who still got killed. While everybody else would be celebrating, saying the job is done, the mothers would be weeping, saying there’s more work to do. And that reveals what I mean by saying what we’re really looking for. What we’re really looking for when it comes to stopping violence is total elimination, violence to end completely. “Stop the Violence!” means exactly that, “Stop all the Violence!” Period. You see, the truth of the matter is that if I educate every kid in Philadelphia on the negative effects of violence, and if I have security cameras everywhere, and tons of cops, and give out tons of money to everyone who hands in an illegal weapon, no questions asked, I might be able to curb or even stop violence in Philadelphia for a while. Sooner or later, though, somebody is gonna get killed. And that means there’s always more work to do. That suggests to me three things: 1) social programs are not going to bring an ultimate solution to stopping violence; 2) the problem goes much deeper than we realize or want to admit; and 3) this root problem is the reason why social programs don’t work as well as we’d like them to work.

Philadelphia Violence and The Irony of the Death of Optimus Prime

A couple of weeks ago I decided to go check out the new Transformers movie. One of the main characters Sam Whitwicky is going to college and, although they never say it, his university of choice is the University of Pennsylvania, right on the Schuylkill River in West Philadelphia. (If you haven’t seen the movie and care about some of the crucial plot points, you probably shouldn’t continue reading this post). Part of the plot includes the evil Decepticons chasing Sam in Philadelphia, at which point Optimus Prime, leader of the good machine aliens, tries to rescue Sam. He succeeds in this endeavor, but dies in the process. As I’m watching this unfold on the screen, it suddenly hits me that his death occurs in Philadelphia.

Now if you don’t know, Philadelphia is the murder capital of the US (or very close to it). Last year, there were more murders in my city then there are days in a year. So when I see OP die at the movies I am sitting there shaking my head, thinking, “Of course, it has to be in Philadelphia.” At this point I should tell you that I don’t think that Michael Bay, the director of the movie, or anyone else was trying to intentionally make a statement about Philadelphia violence. I find it ironic, however, that an icon of American culture dies in the murder capital of the country.

It’s sad when this is the first thing that comes into my mind when I’m watching this film. Such connections are routinely becoming a part of the lives of the people of Philadelphia. A few weeks ago a friend of my family told me that his best friend was shot and killed. The reason: the guy was trying to collect rent money because the landlord (his friend) couldn’t get the tenant to pay up. When he asked the tenant to pay rent, he shot him. Then last weekend, I’m at the Parkway fireworks display down at the Art Museum and some idiot, in the middle of a packed crowd of a couple hundred thousand people, shoots off a cheap, buy yourself firework during a time between songs at the pre-fireworks concert. I think it’s a gunshot, but a couple of young dudes behind mumble, “That can’t be a gun shot, it’s too low.” It’s a sad day in a city’s history when kids can distinguish the sound of a gun shot from other sounds.

Then yesterday, I’m driving down West Philly and I have to stop at a red light. A bunch of cops are there talking to this guy and I overhear them saying, “Who’s gun is that?” And the guy sitting on the curb with his head down tells them it’s his. Obviously, his illegal gun had just got confiscated. Then, I’m down further in West Philly doing repairs at this person’s house and a single shot goes off while I’m in the alleyway. At first I think it’s either a car that broke down or a gunshot, but a couple of minutes later I hear an ambulance and see cops looking in the bushes for a possibly discarded gun. I go out of the alley and look up the street, and a block or so away I see the yellow tape of a crime scene. Then I realize it’s a shot. It was very surreal and disturbing. I don’t know what happened to the person. I hope they’re alright, but a single shot could mean the shooter only needed one shot. I don’t know.

What I do know is that this violence in Philadelphia is not only hurting people, but is very grievous in the eyes of God. I know that the LORD hates “hands that shed innocent blood and a heart that devises wicked plans” (Proverbs 6:17,18). I know that he calls violence evil (Jeremiah 6:7). I also know he says, “Put away violence and oppression, and execute justice and righteousness” (Ezekiel 45:9). The violence that is in Philadelphia is an abomination in the sight of God and is worthy of judgment. It needs to stop.

In my next post, I will attempt to show how we are supposed to respond to this wickedness and how God’s grace is the only solution to this terrible problem.

Growth

Got the chance to meet up with a good friend of mine who I hadn’t seen in a while tonight. We talked about life, sharing what’s been going on in our summers so far, catching up and stuff. So we’re in the middle of the conversation and my friend is like, “Dude, you’ve changed and that’s good” (or something to that effect). I totally needed to hear that. Over the last year, been through a ton of crap and after a long valley, I’m starting to be myself again, more than ever.

Two thoughts based off of that. First, I look back at where I was six months ago, or even a year ago and I think to myself, “Wow, I really didn’t like that person.” When you really look back and see all of your flaws and sins, some secret, some not, it’s usually pretty nasty. And then you realize, “I don’t like that person at all and yet my Father, who is totally holy, loved me then (and still loves me, even though I’ll probably look back six months from now and think the same thing I was thinking about myself six months ago).” Nobody loves like God.

Second, this whole sanctification thing is nuts. God is constantly shaping me and the rest of his children into people who are like him more and more each day (1 Peter – “the be holy as I am holy thing”). Growth has occurred and it will occur forever. All because of the Father’s love, Jesus’ death and life (both prior to and following death), and the Spirit’s power. I’m back to myself, but it feels totally new. The valleys (and there’s more to come) strip away the layers that keep the inside inside. I’m Daniel Kline, Jesus’ brother. Sounds simple, but there’s those days when theology becomes real, more real than you ever thought possible. Today was one of those days.

Re(e)d Sea

Been reading the words of Jesus straight from the Gospels lately and thought to myself, “Wow, it’s so refreshing to read the words of Jesus Himself!” And then it hit me that the entire Bible is, through God inspiring human authors (with their own distinct writing styles and personalities), Jesus’ Word. Now that may sound simple, but let me explain.

The Bible is 100% written by God and 100% written by human beings. It’s one of those paradoxes, like Jesus being 100% God and 100% man. Growing up, I tended to emphasize the fact that God Himself was speaking through every verse, sometimes to the neglect of what the human writer was saying. In college, I have caught myself committing the opposite error. I notice that I will engage the original context of what the author was saying (like say reading a verse as though Moses were speaking and God inspired his words) without realizing that Jesus is speaking to me through the human author (Moses). Subtle, but big difference.

A great counterbalance to this type of thinking is in Jude. Jesus’ bro says, “Now I want to remind you, although you once fully knew it, that Jesus, who saved a people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed those who did not believe” (Jude 5, ESV). I know that Jesus parted the Red Sea, but I kind of forget to read the fuller revelation of later years back into it. It’s almost like I’m thinking, “That’s little kids stuff, Sunday school stuff, but now that I’m grown up, I know that those dudes crossing the Red, I mean Reed Sea, didn’t know about Jesus.” And then I realize, even if they didn’t know about Jesus, Jesus, as the Second Person of the Trinity was still ripping up that Re(e)d Sea. That doesn’t mean I don’t need to understand that the Israelites didn’t know about Jesus, per se, but I think it means that I need to attempt to read the Scriptures through both the divine and human authors’ perspective (the original context, and the fuller context, post-Resurrection style). To emphasize one of these while completely overshadowing the other is a fallacy  that needs to be constantly checked.

Jesus, God who parted the Red Sea for those who didn’t know the fuller revelation of you as we, by your grace, now know, teach us to read your Word with both lenses for Your glory.

To The Brothers

Ever since I’ve been home from college for the summer, my little sister has been attached to me like glue. It’s awesome. For example, every time I leave the house, even if it’s to go up the street to my car, she comes up to me asks me for a hug. Or like today. On the way back from a few hours at the Jersey shore, she says to my dad, “Um, Dad, you know about that thing at Chick-Fil-A on the thirtieth [it's some community thing that she's been talking about for weeks ], um, maybe, you know, Dan could drive me, if he wants to.” I definitely didn’t get that before I went to college, at least not to that extent. And it got me thinking about the responsibilities of brotherhood.

Now I know that I should be a good brother because I’m supposed to love my neighbors (Leviticus 19:18; Matthew 22:37-40) and since my siblings are my neighbors, I should, therefore love them. I also know that Paul says that anyone who fails to provide for his family has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever (1 Timothy 5:8) [I know that Paul is here talking about monetary provision, but this is really just an application of loving your neighbor). But I was thinking the other day and another reason, which is really an extension of loving my neighbor, hit me. Christ Jesus is my big brother, Christ Jesus Himself (Hebrews 2:9-12)! If someone had a bad brother growing up, then for a person to understand Jesus as their brother will probably be hard to grasp, possibly even painful at first. If someone had a good brother growing up, then the truth will probably be easier to grasp. So I guess what I’m saying is that how I, as a brother, treat my siblings and how much I make an effort to have an awesome relationship with them, will either help or hinder them from seeing the truth of Jesus as their big brother as truly beautiful. As fathers can be pictures of the Father to their children (Matthew 7:9-11), as husbands represent Christ as the Church’s bride to their wives (Ephesians 5:22-33), so brothers help to represent Christ as big brother to their siblings.

I pray, brothers, that Christ our Elder Brother will graciously teach us how to represent him arightly to our siblings.

The Beginning

“That which was from the beginning…” – 1 John 1.1

Okay, so John is talking about something big here. Really big.

Let me put it this way. I’ve seen some pretty old stuff in my life. My great-grandmom lived to be a hundred something (eight, I think). I’ve seen the place where the dudes that started this country two hundred years ago sat when they wrote the Constitution. For being almost four hundred or so years old, the Taj Mahal still looks pretty good, even on a cloudy day. And I bet that moon rock I reached over the bar to touch as a little kid at the Smithsonian is pretty old too. But the age of all of those things are nothing when compared with what John is talking about here. Evidently, he is talking about the oldest thing ever, hence his word choice: That which was from the beginning. And the That, John makes clear later on, is a Person and That Person is from the Beginning. Not just any beginning, but The Beginning…. So John is essentially starting his letter off by saying, “Dudes, pay attention because I’m talking about something mad important. It’s about the Person who is from the beginning, who is the Beginning. This is the one from whom all things come. Pay attention because your minds are about to get blown-up.”

I’d say that’s pretty big.

Happy (Late) Father’s Day!

So my dad has been hounding me about why I haven’t posted anything on another blog i contribute to from time to time. I told him that the blog had kind of failed, but he keeps asking me. So I figured I’d start my own blog. The idea had been milling around in my head for a while. My buddy Mark got me into blogging with the Seventh Mile, my other buddy Taylor was raving about the benefits of Twitter (sorry man, haha), I needed an outlet for my obsession with thinking, and then my dad was asking me about posting something. So here’s to you dad. I hope you (and anyone else who wants to read this) like it and that it stirs up your affections for Jesus. I hope our Heavenly Father likes it too. Happy (Late) Father’s Day (to both of you).