Jesus is better than "neural plasticity."

I like reading what Vicki Johnson has to say. She's got this nifty personality test result on her page which, along with her recent post about her re-taken test results being a little bit less introverted, made me want to re-take my own test by the same website. Those results should be floating somewhere on the right hand side of this page.

However, I noticed on the personality test, many of the statements/questions are false dichotomies. For example, a statement may read "I value... A) mercy B) justice." This statement is tough, because it's not a value-driven response to reply with one or the other. Truly the question should be "Which do you value MORE: mercy or justice?", for without one, you can't understand the other. Pastor Gorrell gave a great sermon this morning about Acts 2:37-41, citing John Calvin's sermons emphasizing the necessity of the conviction and grave realization of one's sin against a holy God for the sinner's repentance and His subsequent forgiveness to be true.

For the record, I choose mercy.

"Neural plasticity" is one of those super-cool and pretentious scientific phrases that psychologists like to throw around to sound legitimate. It's actually a real thing; I just like bashing psychology back into its place. (After all, psychology, being the "study of the soul," is a pretty obnoxiously arrogant effort, apart from the Word of God.) Neural plasticity is also one of those self-referential phrases like pedophile ("child-lover") or orthodox ("straight belief")-- "neural" refers to the neural system of the human body and "plasticity" refers to the flexibility of an object. Put together, this phenomenon is the changeability of the brain.

Neural plasticity also isn't about the changes children go through during puberty when their pre-frontal cortices develop, or about temporary changes from a bad cold or PMS or depression or a head-ache. Neural plasticity doesn't concern itself with the case of Phineas Gage, the American miner of the 19th century who survived having blown a hole through his brain in a terrible railroad-constructing accident and who subsequently and spookily changed his act from responsible and godly man to lamesauce angry bum. Neural plasticity is the slow and steady long-term change in a person's tastes, desires, attitudes, dreams, humor, among other things.

To throw in a cool example, the very first time I was turned on to this idea was not from a Psychology classroom, but from an awesome lady while in Prague. Mrs. Scipione travels with her husband George every year to work the soil of the Czech Republic by providing seminars and biblical counseling while George Scipione does the same and helps supply the pulpit. [They actually are inspirational to my goals of ministry!] These two were an absolute delight to be around. Mr. Scipione has such a quick wit with words, he'd always slip in one or two or even three puns in normal conversation and then don this huge grin while you were stuck trying to figure out what was missed. Mrs. Scipione said that this very trait of his that especially endeared him to me used to irk her, but that over time she decided to love it anyways. Now, she says, she's just as quick to return a volley of puns!

This plasticity of the brain is excellent--we're not tied down to any one thing. Biologically, mid-life crises that result in career changes are OKAY, because you can learn how to do something entirely different. The adage "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" might apply to canines, but God has bigger plans for us. And how blessed that He converts sinners not only for salvation in light of eternity, but also salvation in this life! This could go much farther philosophically, because one of the big topics of philosophy argues about one's personal identity-- if you're defined by your memories and actions and you're converted to Christ, are you a new person? But I'm not going to go there today.

The scary flip-side to neural plasticity is the fact that we're wired to be practicers. Everything you do makes you just a little bit better at doing just that. Reading comprehension, riding a bike without holding the handlebars, making coffee, singing, washing a car, doing laundry, or building a chair--doing any of these will make you more efficient. You never stop practicing.

This is sobering, because some of us (cough... me) don't have a Puritan work ethic of total productivity. It's sometimes hard to justify watching TV or a movie. But I need to remember that God gave us a day of rest: one in seven. Even still, my conscience binds me by reminding me that leisure time doesn't have to be spent in relaxation: even movies or TV shows or art exhibits or reading can be done thoughtfully, with a critical eye, in order to discern goodness, truth, and beauty. When, then, shall the mind rest? In sleep every night.

Jesus touches on this when He replies to the legalistic Pharisees trying to undercut Jesus' authority by calling Him the Son of Beelzebub by saying "O generation of vipers, how can you, being evil, speak good things? For out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. A good man out of the good treasure of the heart brings forth good things; and an evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth evil things." -Matthew 12:34-35

If "out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks," then we must be careful what we intake and stew within our hearts, that our mouths may not become accustomed to speaking evilly.

But thanks be to God! This story has the most beautiful of endings. Though God made man to be changeable, his Master doesn't change.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, and today, and for ever. -Hebrews 13:8

"For I am the LORD, I change not. Therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed." -Malachi 3:6

Praise my soul the King of heaven!
To His feet your tribute bring.
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who, like me, His praise should sing?
Praise Him, praise Him, praise Him, praise Him,
praise the everlasting King! (red #76)

Floods

Working at CCA makes me happy. Twice in the past week I got a biblical reference slapped in my face by snarky church elders. One of them found me before lunchtime setting up my classroom in the dark for Thursday's memory work, and he jokingly put on a very serious tone: "Joseph. You're a child of the light, and you work in the dark?" The other happened this morning. One of the bathrooms flooded the school building, but I missed it because I don't come in to teach until lunchtime. I told one of the elders I saw working to sponge up the remaining moisture from the carpets that it was very reminiscent of the time he and I had worked to sponge up the flood caused by leaky pipes at the hotel at which the Czech Republic English Camp was held this past year. He, staying in character, had a quick retort: "We were spared, but not because we were righteous!"

Non-sequitur:

"Storm" / Psalm 13 / "No Air" / Psalm 42 / "Praise You in the Storm"

how long have i been in this storm
so overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form? 
the water's getting harder to tread
with these waves crashing over my head...

if i could just see You, everything would be all right;
if i'd see You this darkness would turn to light...
and i will walk on water.
and You will catch me when i fall.
and everything will be alright. 
-
how long will You forget me, O LORD? 
forever? 
how long will You hide Your face from me?
how long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily?
how long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
consider and hear me, O LORD my God: 
lighten my eyes, 
lest i sleep the sleep of death;
lest mine enemy say, "i have prevailed against him;"
and those that trouble me rejoice when i am moved.
but i have trusted in Your mercy;
my heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. (13v1-5)
-
tell me how i'm supposed to breathe with no air. 
how do You expect me to live alone with just me?
my heart won't move, it's incomplete--
'cause my world revolves around You
it's so hard for me to breathe
with no air.

can't live, can't breathe with no air:
it's how i feel whenever You ain't there--
there's no air, no air!
You've got me out here in the water so deep!
if You ain't here, i just can't breathe--
there's no air, 
no air.
-
i know You didn't bring me out here to drown.
so why am i ten feet under and upside down?
barely surviving has become my purpose
'cause i'm so used to living underneath the surface.
-
as the deer pants after the water brooks, so pants my soul after You, O God. 
my soul thirsts for God, 
for the living God: 
when shall i come and appear before God?
my tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, 
"where is your God?"...
...deep calls unto deep at the noise of Your waterspouts:
all Your waves and Your billows are gone over me. (42v1-3,7)
-
my strength is almost gone;
how can i carry on
if i can't find You? 
as the thunder rolls
i barely hear You whisper through the rain:
"I'm with you."
as Your mercy falls,
i raise my hands to praise
the God who gives and takes away. 
-
everything is alright.
-
i will sing unto the LORD, because He has dealt bountifully with me. (13v6)
-
why are you cast down, O my soul?
and why are you disquieted in me?
hope in God: for i shall yet praise Him, the health of my countenance, and my God. (42v11)
-
i lift my eyes unto the hills;
where does my help come from?
my help comes from the Lord--
the Maker of heaven and earth. 
-
the LORD will command His lovingkindness in the daytime, 
and in the night His song shall be with me,
and my prayer unto the God of my life. (42v8)

The Anchor holds.

Disclaimer: I'm using two fallible legends in this post. Definitely not kosher.

The high priest of Israel was the only one who was allowed to step within the curtain of the Holy of Holies. This allowance was also highly restrictive in the frequency--only once a year, on the Day of Atonement, on Yom Kippur.

"Now the LORD spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron, when they had approached the presence of the LORD and died. The LORD said to Moses: 
'Tell your brother Aaron that he shall not enter at any time into the holy place inside the veil, before the mercy seat which is on the ark, or he will die; for I will appear in the cloud over the mercy seat." 
-Leviticus 16:1-2

Meeting in the presence, or more literally, "face," of the Lord is a somber thing. I do it every week when I go to church to worship and praise. According to John Calvin, the commandment of God to "be ye holy, for I am holy" sums up the theme of Leviticus and God's requirements of mankind, Christians especially. After all, we need redemption because we don't think God's thoughts after Him; we aren't good nor wise nor just nor true by nature any longer. Our godliness is lacking. Sin cannot stand in the face of God.

The high priest, the "kohen gadol," would enter the Holy of Holies with a rope tied around one of his ankles in order to drag him out if he should offer sacrifices improperly. If the high priest would sin and die, there would be no forgiveness for the sins of the people of the past year, and the people had to have a way to tug the dead guy out of the presence of the LORD. According to Hebrew4Christians.com, this is probably a medieval legend. Regardless, I like it.

Also according to the same website, the scapegoat (one of two goats selected in the worship of the Day of Atonement-- Leviticus 16) always had a scarlet rope tied around its neck that would turn white when it left the city of Jerusalem, which according to the Talmud stopped turning white in the forty years after the death of the Christ until the destruction of the temple in A.D. 70. Cool. I don't doubt it, as the symbolism of the sin not being atoned, yet remaining on the head of Jerusalem was a bitter promise foretold by the prophets and accepted by the high priest at the time of Christ who said "We have no king but Caesar."

But rest assured! What follows next you can quote in safety. Jesus is our anchor according to Hebrews 6:19-20, who rests INSIDE the Holy of Holies.

For men swear by one greater, and with them an oath as confirmation is an end of every dispute. In the same way God, desiring even more to show to the heirs of the promise the unchangeableness of His purpose, interposed with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have taken refuge would have strong encouragement to take hold of the hope set before us. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast and one which enters within the veil, where Jesus has entered as a forerunner for us, having become a high priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek. 
-Hebrews 6:16-20

The Bible employs metaphors and symbols to help us men understand things. Can God change His mind? No. Can we really come before the "face" of God? Or what about His "rear," like Moses? Were the plagues of Egypt really done by the "pinky" of God? Will hell really be filled with worms? Will heaven be paved with gold?

So, what does an anchor do? An anchor is the only way a ship can sit still. According to my good friend in research, Mr. Shady Source / Know-It-All / Too-Many-Footnotes, anchors "achieve holding power either by 'hooking' into the seabed, or via sheer mass, or a combination of the two." What a blessed metaphor! Jesus, our anchor, does both of these things. He is "a hope both sure and steadfast," since He cannot be held by death and because He, like a greater son of David than Adonijah, holds fast to the mercy seat of God, where He looks into the "face" of God without being consumed, pleading for us as the great high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek. (Melchizedek counts as a real word! Adonijah doesn't, though.)

Back to the ankle-strap on the high priest. To carry the maybe-legend further, Jesus would have had no fear of failing to worship properly. Jesus, as our firm anchor, pulls us into the sanctuary, rather than the other way around. Jesus wouldn't sin, but we sure do. The curtain has been torn from the top down to the bottom, but our dwelling with God is sort of a "already-not yet" thing. We have the testimony of the Holy Spirit with the church, but we're not in paradise yet.

To end with a chiasm:
For the life of the flesh is in the blood,
and I have given it to you on the altar to make atonement for your souls;
for it is the blood by reason of the life that makes atonement.
-Leviticus 17:11

Labels

I like labels, however hurtful they may be. To some people, a label is an unfair and superfluous definition of a group or an individual. This is true. But on the other hand, labels are a superfluous definition of a group or an individual.

People say stereotypes exist for a reason. Psychology has taught me that we stereotype and then prejudge and finally discriminate between groups or individuals because stereotypes are like rules of thumb-- they might not always be true, but they are true often enough to believe them to be hard and fast rules. These things apply to adages as well as social classes as well as neighborhoods as well as racism.

"Birds of a feather flock together."
"Poor people are lazy."
"Long Beach is a ghetto."
"Asians are terrible drivers."
"Calvinists are joy-less jerks who don't want to evangelize."

However true these statements are, they're all useful. Labels are useful, even if their utility comes from a negative example and requires a willful determination to not judge a group or individuals.

Labels are useful to avoid making wrongful assumptions. Even though sometimes these labels aren't helpful or applicable, these labels help rule out other options.

"What a terrible driver! Must be an old grandma. Oh wait, he's just an Asian guy."

I could list many of the cons to labels, but I don't feel like being fair to the label-haters. I feel like there should be a label for that...

I'm just going to address two areas of life where labels are helpful to me: in religion and relationships. Actually, I just realized that political views are best summarized in certain vocabulary terms like Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Socialist, "progressive," "liberal," "conservative," and the like, BUT I don't care enough about my civil liberty and duty to nerd out about politics as I ought. Bad me. Political labels will have to wait for another day.

Religion: It's good to be able to label yourself when it comes to religion. After all, there are numerous sects of Christianity, and for the well-informed man, calling one's self a Methodist or a Reformed Baptist or a Catholic will grant much information about one's self in just a few syllables. The well-informed man may figure out your eschatology (the end times), your view on soteriology (salvation), and how grave you believe the human condition is as a result of the fall. He can guess your belief or denial of the sovereignty of God, the covenants of God, and the triunity of God.

[Sidebar: I guess it's good to label one's self as accurately as possible when it comes to other religions too. I've a good idea of my audience, and I'm definitely not a "well-informed man" even in the Christian circles, much less in those of Mormon or Islamic or Jewish or Sikhist, etc. circles. I'm just going to rant about Christians and the many persons' distastes for labels.]

In my first year at UC Irvine, I was looking for a new church home. I was a fool. I was living in a room 25 miles away from home and only 40 from my home church. Yet I was following the advice of the pastors of my Timothy Conference just the year before who told me to find a new church to call home, that I would be able to serve in a new way, to exploit and scheme how best I could be of service.

Nothing changed; I came home every weekend to remember how to do laundry and to worship at Branch that year.

But even still, as I was scouting the churches listed on the announcement card my Bible study gives out every Wednesday, I couldn't help but notice that the church that most of the people from that Bible study attended was going without a label. Eventually I understood that, though heavily influenced by the Reformation and its doctrines, the pastors and congregation of this unnamed-church generally held to a Baptist view of God's covenant when it comes to the salvation of children. Maybe I'm just lazy, but that sort of information doesn't need to be hidden from the public. If you believe with the strongest conviction that the Bible teaches that one's children must make a credible and public confession of faith in order to be received of Jesus, then don't be shy about it. Besides, part of the joy of being part of a denomination is the great fellowship across churches. Maybe that's just a Baptist problem of exclusion.

Relationships: It's important to not dismiss labels in relationships. I'm referring mainly to the special sort of relationship between a man and woman, but let's touch briefly on other familial names and labels. Things aren't right when a person refuses the labels of father, mother, husband, wife, son, daughter, brother, sister, friend, teacher, student, et cetera. Perhaps it's shame that stops the label from being applied, as in the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15. Perhaps it's ignorance of the God-ordained importance and gravity and blessing of being "man and wife" that disallows a young couple to label themselves.

Well, that didn't cover nearly as many relationships I thought I would. But that's alright. On the topic of labeling persons who're (That contraction probably shouldn't be used...) who are "in a relationship" according to Facebook: these sorts of labels, verbal or Facebook-indicative, are very helpful for colloquial brothers and sisters. Whether Christian or not, it's good to know whether a guy has laid dibs on a girl, to put it crudely. It's more of a concern for Christians to know who's interested in whom so that appropriate chaperoning and encouragement could spirit the couple along.

My beef is with persons in relationships who, for some reason unbeknownst to me, don't want to take that title. I doubt it's shame; love has a penchant for not hiding the truth and telling it on the mountains. I can't believe it's ignorance, unless it's a one-sided crush. So why? Maybe I'm overlooking something.

Labels prevent misunderstandings. For example, if a guy and girl are sharing a cup in a scenario where no lack of cups is, it's safe to assume they're 1) related, 2) dating, 3) totally interested in dating but haven't decided to actually take an official label, or 4) doing some weird science experiment.
In conclusion: labels are a double-edged sword. They're great for saving time and making quick judgments (Soft fruit = ripe fruit); they're bad and hurtful when the judgments are false (white = racist). Labels divulge information to the person who understands what different labels mean. Labels clear up confusion as to whether a person is a Baptist or is in a relationship. Wait a second...

Jesus is better than my passive-aggressive tendencies.

Last Saturday was a day of surprise. I got to sleep in until 9:45 when the combination of my sweat, my cat's croaks, and my mother calling me inside the house roused me. "Whew," thoughts I. "Let's have a day of rest from work!" says I.

NOPE. (That's reserved for Sunday.)

Weeds must be pulled and plants must be watered. But what's a weed but a plant in the wrong place, performing the wrong function? Perhaps we'll be weeding in heaven...

"I'm home from yoga!" says my umma, and we're off to shop for a gift for her old boss's wife's birthday party. [She likes to cram birthday stuff for the last minute. Actually, make that anything that involves writing a card. Huh.] While we're there, I found a nice pair of shorts to replace my bloody ones.

Story time! I'm a teacher now. I thought I'd have more facial hair before people would call me Mr. Pollard, but God had different plans for me. Anyways, one of the Kindergarteners to whom I am teaching P.E. developed an intense nose-bleed at the end of class. She doesn't speak many English words, and she didn't understand that pressure was her remedy. Her cure was crying loudly and rubbing her bloody hands all over her face. In my attempts to wipe her face, apply pressure, and keep the other 11 kids in control, she bled on me. End story. (Though the rest of the kids immediately quieted and grew somber when they saw her bloody face. Huh. Interesting...)

While my mom drove us over to Kohls, I was reminded of one of my terrible tendencies. I tend to become really passive-aggressive when I'm irked. This needs to stop. It's really immature of me to clam up and refuse to address problems, especially since I see this problem corrupting loads of relationships left and right.

I was reminded tonight of one important thing pertaining to this: being aggressively passive isn't necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes it takes much willpower to restrain one's self from judging a person immediately for wrongdoing. Sometimes it takes time to heal wounds, and early attempts to reconcile would be ineffective.
Sometimes, as I quickly remember almost every time I start teaching, you have to pick the metaphorical hills you'd die upon (upon which you'd die). It's ok to let some things slide sometimes, your honor, Judge OCD. Like correcting other people's improper grammar usages. (Really? I thought usages was spelled "useages." Now it just looks too patriotic. Ahem. It's probably accurate to connect "improper grammar" with Americans. [I totally kept typing "gramma" instead of grammar right there. Also, "Americans" isn't really that accurate. I'm a Californian and a citizen of the United States of America.] Or... courtesy. Or how soon is kosher to reply to text messages or e-mails before it becomes rude. Or how simple passivity is the best way to allow a friendship to dissolve. It is good to be passive about displaying disgust, despair, unlawful or overexaggerated anger, or greed. Sometimes it's tactful and wise to remain silent and quiet. More of my musings on this topic.

Will & Rick invited me out for a night on the town. MY town of Long Beach. I'm often reminded by nights like these of how little I know of things, even my own hometown. We had fish tacos and garden salads with thick raspberry vinaigrette, and salmon. Everything divided nicely into three's that we joked that the owners of Gladstone's must be trinitarians. Our nightly conversation consisted: the lawfulness of cigarettes vs. cigars, tattoos, incense-burning in church, Wheaton University and its professors, Roger Wagner (pastor of Bayview OPC in Chula Vista), my thorny friend, archery, the appropriateness of vibrams in steak houses, the covenants of God, and the TV show Arrested Development which was filming certain scenes for the 4th season on Long Beach's Pike "Whale-watching" pier.

That was a bit irrelevant. I just like those two guys enough to throw a shout-out for them. Read their bloggings, reader!

Now, to get to the real point, this is where Jesus demonstrates that He's better than my passive-aggressive tendencies: He's the ultimate example of picking the right hill to die on. Though I can't tell you why He would, He was carted out of the city, to the place of meeting, where God met His people at the tabernacle and where the scapegoat was released, to die on a hill named Golgotha (that is, the Place of the Skull), reminiscent of the triumphal march of a Roman general, where He paid retail price for my sins. It blows me away.

Here's the kicker, though. Jesus was aggressively passive when He was being crucified!

Jesus's work is often divided by theologians into two categories: active and passive obedience to the law of God. The active obedience was accomplished when Jesus purposefully fulfilled the law and obeyed the authorities over Him, honored His parents, sanctified the Sabbath, and feared the LORD with His whole heart, soul, and strength, to name a few. Jesus was passively obedient when He was tried by a false-priest Pilate, condemned by the Jews, slain by the Romans by the wayside, hung between His best men: robbers, buried in a Jewish tomb, sanctified the Sabbath by resting a full day after Good Friday, and rose again from the dead on the feast of firstfruits. This passivity must have been unbearable, since Jesus even claimed to have more than twelve legions of angels at His prayed command (Matthew 26:53).

"No man takes [my life] from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again.
This commandment have I received from My Father." -John 10:18

This is all I require to remember that Jesus is better than my passive-aggressive tendencies.