To An Unknown God Spring 2011

Unknown

to an

God Issue 1

spring 2011

A Journal of Christian Thought at Berkeley Volume 4 Dangers and demons

to an Unknown God spring 2011

Cover

Discipleship

2

Eschatology and the Weakening of America

4

The Church’s Greatest Danger

6

Living a Grounded Life in a Facebook World

8

We Need New Definitions

9

The Interpretation of Non-interpretation

10

Dan Garcia Nate Lee

Dane Wenthur

Timothy Cho

Arijaan Bulk

Investing in the Kingdom John Montague

12

Paralyzed by Procrastination Javonna Stewart

Literary The Seduction of Ministry 24

Reflection

Daniel Curran

14 A Heavenly Tapestry

till expiry 25

Sarah Knight

Anthony Lam

16 A Letter

prayer

Alice Oh

Sharon Kim

18 ’Twas Grace That Taught My Heart to Fear Timothy Hogue

20 At the Center of the Universe Sean Jeong

21 Astounded by Glory Eric Tsang

Cover Valerie Lu (front) Christine Chen (back)

Artwork Christine Chen (opposite) Anthony Lam (28–29)

Masks 26

Justin Schaefer

Approaching Calvary 27 Wesleigh Anderson

confessions of the intellectual 28 Andrew Kuo

the night is full of memory Kawai Mang

Photographs Anonymous (22–23) Christine Han (19, 24–25, 30) Daniel Kim (1)

Your Word 30

Steven Cong

Andrew Kuo (31) Kevin Lin (5, 7, 17, 26–27)

Lion vs. Lamb Christine Chen (2011) acrylic on canvas

Submissions We accept writing and artwork of all kinds: essays, reflections, poems, short-fiction, photography, etc. Send your work to unknowneditors@gmail.com. Articles should be 650 to 700 or 1400 to 1450 words in length.

To An Unknown God is not affiliated with any church or other religious group, and opinions expressed in articles do not necessarily represent those of the editors. We are student-run and funded partly by the asuc as a sponsored student publication. Funding is also provided through individual donations. Distribution is free while supplies last.

visit us at

unknowngodjournal.com

to an Unknown God Spring • 2011

Dear Reader, What is danger? Loosely defined, danger is potential harm. Storms have long symbolized danger that is beyond our control or understanding.

Jesus’ disciples were once in terrible danger. Stuck in a small boat on the Sea of Galilee, they met a storm so fierce it threatened to drown them. They were frightened—they did not have much faith—and so they cried, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mark 4:38b nasb). He did, of course. Jesus rebuked the waves and the storm calmed.

What are demons? Demons are fallen angels, infamous for their ability to possess and distort humans. The term “demon” has also been used to describe our deep-rooted vices and flaws, the darkness that eats at us.

Jesus met many people who were demon-possessed. They spat his name out like a curse: “‘What business do we have with each other, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?

I know who you are—the Holy One of God!’” (Mark 1:24). Yet these demons could not resist when Jesus rebuked them; the demons would leave and person would be free.

What is “Dangers and Demons”? The theme of taug’s newest issue. Dangers and demons are those things which threaten to ruin us, from without and from within. These dangers and demons are varied and many—in this issue, the writers and artists caution of dangers ranging from misuse of money to misassumptions about the Bible. They examine demons like pride.

I thought handling that sort of thing would get easier as I grew older, maybe once I entered college. So far that has not been true. Dangers and storms were plentiful in college, and there were many times I felt like I was drowning beneath the workload or the stupid life choices I made. In college, demons I thought had been banished returned and new ones joined them— jealousy of those more talented than me, bitterness I had about a fellow student’s death, and many others. So I did what the disciples and the demon-possessed had done in those long ago days: I asked, “Do you even care, God?” and I spoke his name with cynicism.

Long ago, when that storm was stilled, the disciples “became very much afraid and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and sea obey him?’” (Mark 4:41). I don’t have much faith, which is why I worry all the time. Yet Jesus has been stilling my storms, and I hope little by little I have learned to be awed and afraid. Long ago, when Jesus exorcised demons, the crowds who saw were amazed and acclaimed him. Jesus, though I approached him with more resentment than reverence, has guided me through several of my demons. I pray, as Jesus continues to do so, that those around me will see it’s him at work and decide it’s worth taking a closer look at him. And I hope and pray the same for you. As the Shepherd guides us through dangers and fights off demons, may we learn to trust him more and more.

editor-in-chief Chris Han

executive editor Emily Stone

managing editors Erica Vilay Rachael Shen

publishers Kawai Mang Kylie Foo

advisory board Jeffrey Reimer Department of Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering

Steven Fish Department of Political Science

Jan de Vries Department of History

Tsu Jae King Liu Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Sciences

photographer Christine Han

Assistant Editors Wesleigh Anderson, Joyce Chang, Sarah Cho, Connie Fang, Elizabeth Hui, Daniel Kim, Sharon Kim, Alice Oh, Javonna Stewart, Joseph Yi

webmaster Lue-Yee Tsang

May God bless,

EDITORS EMERITI Sarah Cho, Stephanie Chiao, Laura Ferris, Cliff Mak,

Chris han, Editor-in-Chief

John Montague, Whitney Moret

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea.

Psalm 46 : 1–2

cover

Eschatology and the weakening of America contributing writer

Daniel Garcia

I

1 C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

2 Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, “When Will Jesus Return?” April 9, 2009

3 Pew Research Center for the People and the Press, “Public Sees a Future Full of Promise and Peril” June 22, 2010

4 Zakaria, F., “Are America‘s Best Days Behind Us?” time March 3, 2011

2 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

t’s been almost a decade since my first arrival on a college campus and the huge transition it marked in my Christian life. Not only were there new challenges, but I was immersed in an environment where I met and prayed with Christians of numerous backgrounds, traditions, and cultures. Coming from a liturgical, confessional Lutheran background, it was a relieving surprise to meet and learn from Christians of so many backgrounds, finding our common Christianity to be, to quote C. S. Lewis, “something not only positive but pungent; divided from all nonChristian beliefs by a chasm to which the worst divisions inside Christendom are not really comparable at all.”1 Still, in all my conversations, one aspect of Christian faith was surprising given my background. This dealt with issues of “end times” or in the theological lingo, eschatology.

From my own background, Lutherans (as far as I understand my denomination) tend to have a relatively boring eschatology. Jesus is coming back, you can’t tell when. There will be the Resurrection of the Dead, the Final Judgment, and a New Heavens and New Earth. We have no exciting encounters with a final Antichrist, or Millennial reign where Satan is to be kept chained up for 1,000 years and later released.

We have no unexpected Rapture, “week” of Tribulations, rebuilding and desecration of the Temple in Jerusalem, or final battle of Armageddon.

Now, should any or all of these things come to pass, it doesn’t bother me too much. Christ is Lord. But the general interest in end times matters is somewhat surprising. In 2006 the Pew Research Center conducted a poll in which they found that one in five American Christians thought Jesus would return in their lifetime.2 A more recent survey in 2010 by the same group found that 54% of Protestants and 32% of Roman Catholics said it was “definite or probable” that Jesus would return to Earth by 2050.3 Interests

in literature like the Left Behind series or the obsessive fixations on 2012, Nostradamus, and similar apocalyptic threads also seem curious.

Admittedly, there are plenty of reasons a person can point to that suggest the world is starting to come apart at the seams. But this is not particularly novel. If I were living in 14th century Europe, when more than a third of the entire population was being killed off by a mysterious plague and bodies of friends and family were lying around unburied and decaying, even I would be convinced that the end was near.

Yet we’re living not in 14th century plaguestricken Europe, but in 21st century America.

Nevertheless, this fervor of an impending apocalyptic moment remains strong. This fixation among American Christians leads me to wonder further about how our present American culture may be interwoven with this phenomenon. On this cultural point, Time magazine recently had an article that shouldn’t surprise anyone: “Are America’s Best Days Behind Us?” In it, Fareed Zakaria writes, American politics is now hyperresponsive to constituents’ interests. And all those interests are dedicated to preserving the past rather than investing for the future. There are no lobbying groups for the next generation of industries, only for those companies that are here now with cash to spend[…]The whole system is geared to preserve current subsidies, tax breaks and loopholes.4 I agree with Zakaria’s observation that the voices of the present have overwhelmed those of the future. The effect of this culture may even be evidenced in the run-up to the financial meltdown of 2008 and the unsustainable financial instruments it produced. Indeed, our approach to environmental concerns reflects a similar astigmatism. We know the earth is getting warmer from increased carbon dioxide

in the atmosphere, and this excess carbon is coming from burning fossil fuels.5 What we don’t know is what will happen when you start making global changes to the earth’s climate.

Some take comfort in this uncertainty, not realizing that we are playing Russian roulette with the environment. Still, the bullets of major climate-related disasters are in the chamber, and we are pulling the trigger. The response to this sometimes feeds into that sense that “the earth will wear out like a garment” in the language of Isaiah 51:6 (niv). Jesus must be coming back soon because everything is starting to fall apart.

Reflecting on these cultural observations, I find myself revisiting the famous Christian author Corrie ten Boom. Ten Boom is best known as the author of the The Hiding Place, which relates her experiences in Nazi-controlled Holland and the Ravensbrück concentration camp. Years later, she pointed out something that, in light of our current situation, should give us some pause. As Mao Tse Tung and the Red Guards began to overtake China, missionaries were killed or expelled. Ten Boom warned the church of the dangers that can come with certain eschatology.

In China, the Christians were told, “Don’t worry, before the tribulation comes you will be raptured.” Then came a terrible persecution. Millions of Christians were tortured to death. Later I heard a Bishop from China say, sadly, “We have failed. We should have made the people strong for persecution, rather than telling them Jesus would come first.”

The danger is that our eschatology will affect how prepared we are to meet any of the challenges of the future. In a less acute but still serious manner, this danger relates to the issues of today. For if Christ’s return is coming in the next 40 years, then should we be worried about our nation’s challenges? This would include questions that are close to home, like the implosion of Social Security, the diminishing funding for science research and education, the national debt, our own infrastructure, and the lives of our grandchildren. If we are going to be raptured in a generation or two, do the prospects of famine

related to climate change, or the potential for the rising sea levels to sink our coastal cities really matter?

Now, I don’t mean to suggest that this theology is responsible for negligence about our country’s and our planet’s future. Rather, I wonder if it is the opposite effect; these theologies are becoming increasingly attractive because we don’t want to think about these problems. In light of these issues, we are becoming increasingly escapist, isolationist, and individualistic, and thus we like eschatology that allows for us to, perhaps subconsciously, support this. Could it be that instead of our theology trying to redeem our admittedly individualistic Western culture, our individualistic Western culture is influencing our theology in the same way the advance of Prosperity Gospel Theology has in the recent decades? And so as ten Boom warned, if we continue to focus our attention on an eschatology that values escape, we might find ourselves entirely unprepared for the reality of all that is happening in our world.

Fortunately, we have guidance from those who have come before us. The early Christians we find in the Epistles sincerely believed that Jesus was coming back in their lifetimes. They were wrong, but soon they learned to be salt and light in the world, and they took down the Roman Empire in the span of 300 years without raising a sword. As Americans, our country is in trouble. As humans, our planet is facing some unique challenges with profound ramifications. Let’s learn from our Christian ancestors and not use our theology as a way to sap our God-given strength to work towards a long-term good. And indeed, “No one knows about that day or hour” (Matt. 24:36).

Christ may come before this article even comes to print. But, that changes nothing. Better to be working for justice and goodness wherever we can. Better to pursue good governance and the needs of our children and children’s children.

How we live is how we worship. And if this present were the world’s last night, then as St. Paul reminds us, “You know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain” (1 Cor. 15:58). The God who will ultimately raise the dead and judge this world sees the worship of our lives, and that is eternal—a treasure in heaven. •

5 "Carbon Cycle 2.0," http://carboncycle2. lbl.gov/2011-01-31.html for the science behind each of these points.

daniel garcia is originally from Barrington, il. He has recently completed his doctorate program in Physics at uc Berkeley.

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 3

cover

The Church’s Greatest Danger contributing writer

Nate Lee

T

he church can be a dangerous place.

If you’re not completely sure what I’m talking about, allow me to explain. Here are just a few of the great dangers you may face on a given Sunday: • Bad parking • Old Asian women who will incessantly ask you questions about your life • Sermons on generosity • Pastors’ kids • Mark Driscoll

1

R.C. Sproul, The Holiness of God

Perhaps even the mention of some of these things already has you shaking in fear. Trust me, I understand. I too have had bad experiences with pastors’ kids. They’re crazy. But allow me to warn you again: There are even worse dangers than these! Beware!

In all seriousness, the church today does indeed face many real and ominous dangers.

Comfort blinds us. Complacency paralyzes us. Shame disfigures us. Cynicism hardens our hearts. Personal and communal sins kill any efforts toward real community. We fight against these dangers every single Sunday.

They keep us from becoming the Church that Jesus envisioned. They perpetuate exclusivity, judgment, hypocrisy, manipulation, and irrelevancy in society. Yet we cannot escape them. On their worst days, they interact, overlap, band together and call themselves Legion. At times they possess us. Yet even this Legion is not the greatest danger that the church must wrestle with. There is one that is far worse, one that dwarfs and undoes any of the aforementioned.

Our greatest danger is God himself.

Yes, God is dangerous. And he is dangerous in every way imaginable. Before Almighty God, Isaiah declares his own death, Elijah buries his face in his clothes, and a fisherman named 4 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

Simon Peter cries out, “Go away from me, Lord” (Luke 5:8 NIV). This is the same Isaiah who was chosen to prophecy of the coming Messiah, the same Elijah who called down fire from heaven, and the same Peter who became the father of the Church. Spiritual giants are reduced to frightened children before the Dangerous One. There is something about the presence of the Holy that repulses us, something about God that threatens every strand of our fallen beings. And if on Sunday mornings we come into contact with this very God, Sproul asks, “Who could stand it?”¹ Does our church experience reflect the dangerous nature of the one we worship?

Yes, God is dangerous. He is dangerous to the things we cling to most tightly. He is dangerous to our dreams of comfort and safety.

He is dangerous to our Christian bubbles. He is dangerous to our salaries. He is dangerous to our success. He is dangerous to our academics.

He is dangerous to our reputations. He is dangerous to our relationships. He is dangerous to our families. God is dangerous. And he calls us to give all of these things to him. All of them.

Christ says, “Those of you who cannot give up everything you have cannot be my disciples” (Luke 14:33). Can we hand our lives over to a dangerous God? Can we trust him? Can we follow him? Can we love him?

Yes, God is dangerous. But the Good News is that he is dangerous to so much more. He is dangerous to our sins. He is dangerous to our fears. He is dangerous to our shame. He is dangerous to our insecurities. He is dangerous to our pain. He is dangerous to every lie that has kept you from reaching your potential. He is dangerous to every time you want to give up.

He is dangerous to every frustration you’ve had about who you are and where you’re headed. He is dangerous to the devil. He is dangerous to the demons inside of us. And he is even dangerous

to death itself. God is dangerous, and danger has never looked so beautiful.

And we, like Isaiah, Elijah, and Peter, are called to enter into this danger. C.S. Lewis puts it best: “Christ says, ‘Give me all. I don’t want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want you. I have not come to torment the natural self, but to kill it.’”² Yes. This is the greatest danger that God presents to us: He asks us to die. Because God would not be dangerous if he were simply a selfhelp guru, a behavior modifier, or a sin manager.

No, he is dangerous to our very lives. He did not come to dress our wounds but to resurrect our corpses. Are we willing to die to ourselves? Be careful—the resurrected life is no longer yours.

Jon Foreman sings, “Would you sell yourself to buy the one you’ve found?”³ Do we believe that walking on life-threatening waters with Jesus is actually safer than the self-driven boat?

St. Paul says, “For through the law I died to the law so that I might live for God. I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:19-20). This is the Good News. And it is the most dangerous Good News the world has ever heard. Because it means, quite simply, that we’re free. Free from our past, present, and future sins, free from condemnation, and free from the law. In Eden, the Tree made us painfully aware of Right and Wrong. Through the second Tree—the cross of Christ—our obsession with Right and Wrong has been put to an end. We no longer have to worry about it. We are now free to enjoy the full life that God has given us, sent out with the knowledge that nothing can separate us from his unfailing love. It is for freedom’s sake that we have been set free. The danger, that we as broken people would abuse this freedom, is real.

But there is no other way that God would have it. And the most pressing and perhaps most dangerous question now becomes, What will we do with this freedom?

Capon writes:

that no mistake can hold a candle to the love that draws us home. My repentance, accordingly, is not so much for my failings but for the two-bit attitude toward them by which I made them more sovereign than grace. Grace—the imperative to hear the music, not just listen for errors—makes all infirmities occasions of glory.⁴

2 C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

3 Jon Foreman, "Your Love is Strong"

Perhaps the greatest danger in the church, then, is us. That is, if we claim it for ourselves. And if it is us, then perhaps it will not remain in the church. As followers and imitators of a dangerous God, and as new creations born again, raised with a dangerous Savior now living inside of us, we too must become dangerous. Dangerous to evil. Dangerous to suffering. Dangerous to injustice. Dangerous to our broken society.

Dangerous to our friends’ and neighbors’ pain, hunger, nakedness, and bondage. This is who we are. This is the Way we have chosen. It has never been safe and it has never been easy. Yet it has always been beautiful and it has always been good. And it beckons us to come and die, to find that we may finally, truly live. •

4 Robert Farrar Capon, Between Noon and Three

Nate Lee is a fourth-year at UC Berkeley studying psychology and social welfare.

He is originally from San Bruno, CA.

There was one thing we most needed even from the start: the ability to take our freedom seriously and act on it, to live not in fear of mistakes but in the knowledge kevin lin

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 5

cover

Living a Grounded Life contributing writer

Arijaan Bulk

Arijaan Bulk grew up in the Cowboy Capital of the World, went to Cal Poly San Louis Obispo, and is currently on staff with Campus Crusade for Christ at Cal. Feel free to friend her on Facebook.

W

in a facebook World

ere you ever grounded as a child?

Maybe for talking back to your dad one too many times, or for running off to play with your neighbor down the street without telling your mom? I was never actually grounded—though there were many times I could have been. My parents, being immigrants from Holland, did not know what “grounding” was, so I had it pretty good.

Have you ever wondered why it is called “grounding”? It really is a strange word. Perhaps “grounding” gives the perpetrator time to think, and the inability to do whatever thing for which they are being disciplined. This form of discipline is used to ground, or reestablish, someone into a healthy reality. And the “grounder” grounds because he or she needs to discipline someone, but maybe also for needed time and space to think, to ground themselves back into a healthy reality as well.

So, why all this talk about grounding? Well, a few Saturdays ago I “grounded” my computer.

Granted, the computer had not done anything warranting discipline and it also did not really need time to think or to become grounded in reality again. But I did. As the grounder, I realized I had, in many ways, lost touch with a healthy reality and really needed some time and space to become grounded again. So I shoved my computer into the closet late Friday night (hopefully not how you were grounded as a child) after spending several deeply unsatisfying hours on Facebook, vowing not to pull it out again until Sunday.

It really was not a premeditated decision—in a fury of frustration and disappointment I had wanted to get that computer “out of sight, out of mind.” What had happened slowly, but happened nonetheless, was that Facebook had become an idol, and therefore Jesus had become very much “out of sight, out of mind.” A good thing, like

6 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

Facebook, had become an ultimately bad thing and I found myself lost, like a sheep without my Shepherd. I was looking to Facebook for things only God could provide, and this is where the danger lies.

Facebook is not dangerous in and of itself.

In fact, the Internet has been used for incredible good, including the spread of the Gospel worldwide. For example, because of God working through Facebook, I have been able to reconnect with old friends, and have even had opportunities to dialogue about God with them.

How cool!

However, we cannot deny the addictive side to technology, the fact that it is not all good, the fact that something harmless on the outside can cause deep problems within. For me there has been danger in laziness and wasting time, in looking for a sense of community in front of my computer screen, in being so absorbed in other people’s lives that I have lost touch with my own.

I need to stop and ask myself: what is lacking in my life that causes something like Facebook to become dangerous? But that’s the hard part. As with anything addictive, it is hard to stop and think clearly—hence the desperate measure of throwing my computer in the closet and why I am writing this today.

Just as worried as I am about myself, I am worried about you, too. Do not get me wrong; I definitely see the plank in my own eye (Matt.

7:3). But I also see the speck in your eye, in the eyes of our generation. I know that many waste away hours in front of a screen each day, not emerging from those hours any wiser, kinder, happier, or more satisfied with themselves and their lives. Instead we enter back into reality with thoughts and feelings of jealousy, envy, discouragement, disillusionment, sadness, and frustration—whether with ourselves, others, the world around us, God, or all of the above.

Facebook affects us in deep and far-reaching ways. But before we take the time to ground ourselves back into a healthy reality, we hit “Refresh” yet again and enter back into a numb existence, which is not the type of existence Jesus intended when He spoke of “abundant life” ( John 10:10).

Daily I wonder what this “abundant life” is supposed to look like, sound like, taste like, and feel like—some days I think I am closer to fully experiencing my God-given senses than others.

That Saturday was one of them. Instead of the laziness that comes from choosing to zone out in front of my computer, I went on a refreshing bike ride; I felt fully alive! Instead of entering into a mostly false sense of community on Facebook, I had the time and space to be fully present for the dearly loved people in my life; not, for example, mindlessly checking people’s status updates while talking with my mom on the phone (tell me I am not alone in this). And instead of being so wrapped up in the small and larger details of a thousand other people’s lives, I was able to focus more clearly, thus enjoying the healthy reality of my amazing relationship with God and how that works itself out in and through the life he’s given me.

When the computer is grounded, I am grounded—in the best sense of the word. But “grounding” is not necessarily the best solution.

You have papers to write, I have admin work to stay on top of; our computers cannot live in the closet. So how about a healthy dose of selfcontrol? A fruit of the Spirit, this is something only the Holy Spirit can produce in you. And, as always, there is grace in the times we choose to turn to social media, or anything else for that matter, to satisfy us in ways that only God can.

Francis Chan once said, “How we live our days is how we live our lives.” I could not

agree more. How I pray, for myself and each of you, that our actions will line up with this and all Biblical truth. After all, when we look back on our lives one day in the future, do we want to be known for the hours we spent on Facebook?

Instead, let us choose to live our days with Facebook mostly “out of sight, out of mind.”

When this is true of me, all of a sudden I have time to read the Bible, to train for a triathlon, to learn how to sew an apron, to host a dinner party. That is, if I choose to. I can just as easily choose to spend my waking, working, and relaxing hours wondering how others are living their lives instead of fully living my own.

But be encouraged because Hebrews 12:1–3 says, “Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit!

No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we're in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed— that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!” (MSG) Though Facebook is still relatively young (in fact, Mark Zuckerberg and I are almost the same age—young, indeed), the dangers that lie beneath are real and not going anywhere anytime soon. Would that we be a generation that chooses to stay grounded in the reality of Jesus Christ, and how he has changed and continues to change our lives as we keep our eyes on him alone. •

kevin lin

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 7

cover

Paralyzed by staff writer

Javonna Stewart

A

Procrastination

s college students, many of us are expert procrastinators. After years of study and homework, we’ve developed a profound understanding of how time seems to bend according to our will. This assumed knowledge often causes us to put off our work just long enough before it poses a serious threat. How many times have you started a paper the night before it’s due? We all know procrastination isn’t good, but it doesn’t seem that bad as long as the work gets done.

Unfortunately, reasoning like this has become increasingly acceptable even as it threatens us more than we’d like to think. God makes it very clear that we as Christians should be diligent in our work and refrain from the laziness that jeopardizes our relationship with him.

Procrastination doesn’t just affect us, but it has deeper repercussions that disappoint God and those around us.

The things we distract ourselves with are usually pointless and don’t make us better Christians. Time wasters like playing video games and Facebooking aren’t necessarily harmful until they get in the way of what God wants us to do. Our time on earth is limited and when God asks us to do something, we should do it out of love for him, without delay. God tests us with small things first. Matthew 25:23 (niv) says, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!” God can’t reward us for procrastinating. The things he calls you to do are time-sensitive and if you put them off, he’ll find another way without you. God’s will doesn’t bend to our convenience; we work in his time, not our own. It’s when we fall into the habit of procrastinating that the line between our time and God’s time gets blurred.

• Javonna Stewart is a fourth-year English major from Livermore, ca.

8 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

Procrastination is one of the most disabling spiritual attacks because it hinders our ability to share Christ with others and fellowship with our brothers and sisters. Hebrews 12:1–2 says, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” If you want God to reveal his plans for you, don’t put him on hold.

I’ve often thought to myself that life starts after college and that it’s okay to slack off because I’m young. That’s what the enemy wants us to think. As college students, God intends for us to get an education that will shape how we serve him, and when we delay our progress in college, we’re setting ourselves up for disappointment and regret in the future when we realize we could have used our education to make a difference.

Often at the root of procrastination lies the fear of failure. We may put off doing something because we’re worried that we won’t do it right or that we’ll perform below our expectations, but we need to remember that this fear comes from Satan who wants to keep us from loving God and enjoying life. God created us with the potential to do great things, and if we don’t love and serve him, our potential is diminished. If you don’t think that the work you’re doing in college or at your job is important in terms of God’s plan for you, I encourage you to ask him to reveal how he’s working in your life right now because he most certainly is. God is building each of us in a unique way to further his kingdom, and when we procrastinate, we hinder his progress in our lives. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” •

discipleship

•

we neednew definitions

W

e use words of powerful comparison all the time. During the college life, these words seem to hold a certain power, with one or the other being what describes us. If you’re anything like me, you have weighed decisions upon comparisons, mostly in regards to post-college life. What major is best? What schedule works best? Which class will give me a worse blow to my chances of getting into medical school? Obviously these are hypothetical and our decisions do matter, but if you’ve walked around campus lately (or even around your own apartment), you know that these conversations are always taking place.

To me, it begs an honest question…who gave us the authority to define our circumstances through comparison?

We’ve heard the whole spectrum from students nearing graduation. On one hand we hear, “College is the best. I never want to leave this place,” or “I can’t believe that I’ll never get to study abroad again. The best semester of my life is over!” Then there’s the other side when we hear, “I can’t get wait to get out of here. Once I get working and get settled in, it’s going to be perfect.” One of the more tantalizing factors about life after college is that we do have power in making decisions. We can do something daring and unusual, or we can do what most people are doing. We can spend a lot of our energy getting a great job at a reputable company or we can opt out to do something “small” that very few people do. In other words, we become very convinced that one alternative is better than the other. We live out our own imperfect version of “best” like it’s most important.

If we are finding ourselves beaten down with the comparison debate that so easily sneaks up on us, then we must realize that there is a great equalizer in Christ. There is the one truth that

God gives us the means to live, regardless of what our circumstances suggest. This is why we say “Give us our daily bread” in the prayer Jesus taught us in Matthew 6. Everything we do to distance ourselves from our daily bread is an illusion that God sees through. Contrary to what we might hear in our Accounting class, there are no winners or losers in life. As Matthew 5:45 says, “He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (nasb). We always hear that God loves us, but we need to believe it to be true. We need to believe that his best is actually our best, and our worst is whatever that is not glorifying to him.

This definition of best does not come from a position of looking within our own hearts, but instead it comes from the definition lived out fully in Jesus. It is the One drenched in compassion, from the sacrificial heart of an everpresent, eternal God who knows that all truly meaningful things are done through him and for him anyway. They come from him who loves us, who came down to Earth, suffered on the cross, and rose so we could be fully redeemed to God. After a Bible study last semester, my roommate said, “I don’t really know what success is anymore.” I feel a strange sense of peace though we will never really know that answer. The invitation to live out this new life is still standing, and will be standing no matter how far or close to “best” we think we are. If God wills, our best might be getting married and having children.

It might include having a group of friends that don’t simply agree with everything we do, but actually challenge and love us. It might include a job that is challenging and uses our Godgiven talents appropriately. But may we always remember that the best life was already lived, and lives in us once we join in. •

contributing writer

Dane Wenthur

Dane Wenthur is a third-year Geography major from San Diego, CA.

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 9

discipleship

The Interpretation of Non-Interpretation contributing writer

Timothy Cho

1 Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, Vol. 1, Introduction, Ch. vi, The Protestant Rule of Faith 2 Westminster Confession of Faith, Ch. 1 : vii; Ch. 1 : ix

H

amburger.

What did you just think of? The instant you read it, the image of a hamburger popped into your mind. Perhaps you thought of a nice, juicy In-n-Out double-double animal style, or perhaps a homemade, fresh-off-thegrill, no-messing-around meat and cheese? The point is that your understanding of “hamburger” was different from another’s, and your presupposition determined your interpretation of the word “hamburger.”

It is quite clear that, though your “hamburger” and another’s “hamburger” may be different, they are still hamburgers nonetheless. What if we introduce a more abstract term in which there can be radical variance?

Love.

What if someone’s presupposition of “love” is murdering another individual? Obviously, this stands out to us as wrong. Yet, we would know by what kind of system he would operate upon if he were to say something such as “I love (am going to kill) her.”

Whether we realize it or not, presuppositions are fundamental to how we relate to the world, and they come together in an “operating system” that paints and ornaments how we interpret, approach, and “read” the world.

The danger arises when people claim to have no presuppositions, instead claiming to have an “objective” and “neutral” perspective. It is common to hear from many brothers and sisters in Christ that they don’t study theology and doctrine and that they just open their Bibles without any presuppositions. Claiming to an idea of “Sola Scriptura,” they decry any form of such “interpretations” while adamantly claiming they can read the Bible without interpretations.

My response, however, is that no matter what, every single person will have an interpretation.

Every single person will have presuppositions by which they will interpret Scripture. Every single

10 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

word of Scripture is affected by interpretation.

The phrase “God is love,” for example, can mean completely different things depending on one’s presuppositions of “God” and “love.” Arguing that one brings nothing to the table is dangerous because it can make him think that he can crack open his Bibles and understand exactly what the words are saying and that everyone else is wrong because they are “interpreting” the Bible.

This hesitancy toward theology, doctrine, and interpretation arises, quite ironically, from a wrong presupposition of “Sola Scriptura.” Many in the evangelical community will claim that s.s. means getting rid of all interpretations and only reading the Bible. However, the Protestant Reformers never got rid of interpretation.

Rather, they changed the relation between it and Scripture. In fact, the Reformation’s doctrine claimed that Scripture interprets Scripture and that easier texts bring light to more difficult texts (“Analogia Fidei”),¹ and that there is a true interpretation that runs from beginning to end of the Bible because it is all inspired by one divine Author.² God himself has pieced together the 66 books of the Bible so that his story of redemption runs throughout the Old and New Testaments in foreshadowing and fulfillment.

Just like rereading a great mystery novel, we can look back at the ot and see the clues the Author has placed to set up the climax of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Therefore, if there is one Author who has provided his own correct interpretation in his own Scripture, we, as readers, must take off our own presuppositions and put on the lens which Scripture has provided itself. It does not matter what I think or what you think—what matters is what the Author intended. I can meet a random stranger and make the best mathematical and scientific deductions to what her favorite color is, but I will never find out what it actually is if I don’t ask her myself.

It is easy for Christians nowadays to forget about something even more dangerous than assuming a neutrality in Scripture reading: the fact that it is more than merely non-neutrality, that since the Fall of humanity, every single person has an innate set of presuppositions that are sinful, fallen, and ultimately, rebellious and hateful toward God. Even as Christians, we still suffer from this same nature, and it affects our interpretation of Scripture. Just look at what the Bible has to say about the state of humanity.³ It isn’t just that one can’t open the Bible without any presuppositions, but the inevitable presupposition of all humanity is by nature set against the Author himself! So, if we corrected that earlier analogy in light of this, I wouldn’t just be making deductions without asking her about her favorite color—I would be making them in complete hostility towards her.

This is why there are so many Christians who are, quite admittedly, meticulous in their approach toward doctrine and theology. I admit, I can be quite harsh, even a jerk when I correct brothers and sisters concerning doctrine and theology, and that is something that struggling jerk-Calvinists like myself need to repent of. Though I can’t wholly represent us, I apologize sincerely for any hurt we may have caused. Yet, the reason why we yearn to make our understanding of theology and doctrine as accurate and faithful to Scripture as possible is because we know how much of a danger we are to ourselves in our fallen presuppositions. We know that our fallen presuppositions can hurt our own selves or each other and we can actually be worshiping a god of our imaginations rather than God as he has revealed himself in his Word. We firmly believe that the Gospel is the power unto salvation for all who believe, and that a person is most satisfied when they find their satisfaction in Jesus as he describes himself to be.4 We also believe, in line with Paul, that any other Gospel destroys salvation and fulfillment in Jesus,5 and we know that the scariest lies are not outright lies but almosttruths and almost-gospels.

Doctrine and theology are the truth of God (doctrine) and the knowledge of God (theology).

Both are never divorced but are always grounded

upon the Bible as the instrument by which the Creator of Heaven and Earth has revealed himself to sinful humanity. Jesus prays that we may “know him,”6 Paul exhorts Titus to teach “sound doctrine.”7 Believers are constantly warned of false teachers disguised as sheep.8 We want to know God because we love him and want to know him personally. We don’t want to trust our feelings or sensations because we know that they have been tainted by the Fall. To trust in instincts and feelings alone is as if I had gone on a date with a girl and did not remember a single thing about her—her looks, personality, likes, dislikes—but I claim that I am in love with her because “it felt right” and she “made me feel good.”

But, the glory of the Gospel is that right doctrine and theology are not a prerequisite for salvation. None of us by nature can come to a right understanding of God. Rather, in hatred of him we create a false understanding of him.

Instead of recognizing him as King enthroned over all, we usurp his throne and in outright rebellion crown ourselves, and we deserve the just penalty and wrath by the King for our treason, all the while duping ourselves into believing that we are worshiping God. Yet, it is this King who sent his only Son to live as a man with perfect knowledge of the King (theology), truth (doctrine), and obedience to the King.

Yet, he suffered the punishment for our treason on the cross and exchanged to us his perfect righteousness so that God sees us as perfectly righteous. Therefore, we are free from earning God’s acceptance, and even our theology and doctrine are no longer prerequisites. Instead, we are free to respond in love, to know more about the truth of the One who knew God perfectly on our behalf.

Therefore, I encourage you with brotherly love to strive to learn more about him in doctrine and theology, not for knowledge’s sake in and of itself, but in response to the love he first bestowed to you while you were absolutely wayward in thought and life. May he be beautiful in your eyes and may he be a treasure to your soul, so that you may strive to know more about your One True Love and fall more deeply in love with him again and again. •

3 Jer. 17:9, Gen. 6:5, 8:21, John 8:34, Rom. 7:14, John 3:20, Col. 1:21, Ps. 10:4

4 Westminster Shorter Catechism, Q.1

5 Gal. 1:6–9

6 John 17:3

7 Titus 2:1

8 Matt. 7:15

Timothy Cho is an English major from Santa Barbara, CA. He will be attending Westminster Seminary in the fall to pursue an M.Div. He is the facilitator of Covenant Reformed Christian Fellowship.

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 11

discipleship

Investing in the Kingdom:

Why Giving Wisely Matters

S

e nator Chuck Grassley angered church leaders in 2007 when he began investigating the finances of several prominent churches. The financial excesses at those ministries were shocking: $23,000 marble commodes; $350,000 Bentleys; private jets; and multi-million dollar mansions. Yet many congregants defended their pastors, arguing that how pastors handle church finances is between the pastors and God. Some even contended that it is wrong to question religious leaders about money. Although many churchgoers agreed about the importance of being good stewards of their personal finances, they were reluctant to consider how their churches stewarded the money they put in the offering every week. As one woman put it: “When it leaves my hand, it is no longer my responsibility.”

I believe such an attitude is wrong. Over the past year, I have written several articles and blog posts highlighting specific examples similar to those above, and I have urged Christians to think more carefully about stewardship when they donate to organizations or churches. Unfortunately, my writing on this subject has occasionally been misunderstood. A few readers have also confessed to me that they do not understand the urgency of stewardship, that they do not see why it is so important. These conversations have convinced me that it is worthwhile to summarize and further explain why I think stewarding our donations carefully is important and why I think it is imperative that all Christians, even those who are only able to give a little, make an effort to investigate whether the organizations to which they give actually use their donations wisely. I endorse the following narrow proposition: If a casual examination reveals that an organization spends a relatively small amount of its income on its stated mission and instead provides its leaders with salaries that place them among the wealthiest Americans, then it is morally wrong to donate to that organization. Instead, the same amount of money should be donated to another organization doing similar work that better stewards its resources.

As a corollary to this proposition, I believe that Christians have a moral obligation to conduct that casual examination. Why do I endorse this proposition and its corollary?

12 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

staff writer

John Montague

Jesus tells two parables to illustrate the concept of stewardship: Matthew 25: 14–30 and Luke 19: 12–27. In both stories, a master entrusts his servants with money, goes away, and then comes back and asks them for an accounting. In each case, the master rewards those servants who have used well the money entrusted to them, earning more money. In contrast, those “wicked and slothful” servants who have not wisely invested their master’s funds are condemned. These two parables are often taught in churches, typically with the admonition that we must use our gifts to serve God. Although this teaching is surely faithful to Jesus’ intent, it misses out on the original, more direct application: we are to be careful what we do with “our” money, which is not really ours at all—it is God’s.

I think there are several reasons why some have struggled to understand my argument that Christians should be good stewards of their donations. First, many of us feel that our own contributions are so insignificant that our influence is but a “drop in the bucket.”

These thoughts make us feel powerless and voiceless. We may even believe that we are excused from culpability for donating unwisely: after all, what difference could we really make?

The problem is that if every donor thinks this way, no one will ever investigate what a charity does with its contributions, and charities that misuse their money will never be held accountable. If no one did any investigation before making donations, ministries who use their donations to enrich their leaders might continue to flourish while those whose leaders are so committed to their missions that they live in poverty so that they can serve the poor might receive nothing.

On the other hand, if all donors believed that their voices did matter, donors could profoundly influence how organizations steward their contributions. As I have suggested, donors who discover that an organization does not use its money wisely should consider several courses of action: • Write a letter to the organization expressing concerns about how it uses its resources.

• Spread the word. Write a blog post informing others about how that organization uses its money.

• Encourage others to also express their concerns directly to the organization’s leadership.

• Withhold donations in favor of other organizations that make better use of donations.

Over time, if all donors followed these steps, organizations that misuse donations would either reform themselves or cease existing.

At the same time, organizations that steward their donations well would flourish, bearing much fruit for the Kingdom of God. Even if the ways some organizations “misuse” contributions are less extreme than those investigated by Senator Grassley, I still think Christians should follow these suggestions when giving.

These suggestions will help keep organizations accountable to their real missions: serving God by meeting the unmet physical and spiritual needs of a hurting world and thus spreading the gospel. When we consider that almost three billion people in this world live on less than two dollars a day, we realize that small decisions about how organizations use their money really do matter. Even several dollars can make the difference between life and death for people who are living in extreme poverty. Likewise, small amounts of money can go a long way toward spreading the gospel in such areas.

Second, some misread my arguments because they do not understand the concept of “opportunity cost.” Opportunity cost is a term borrowed from economics to describe a simple concept that we all apply every day, whether we are conscious of it or not.

The basic idea is that we all have a limited amount of resources (time, money, etc.). Whenever we use a given resource, we are forfeiting opportunities to use that resource to do something else.

The opportunity cost of a given choice is the next-best alternative that we pass up in order to make that choice.

For instance, think about what you did last Saturday night.

What would you have done had you not been doing what you actually did? The answer to that question is the opportunity cost of doing what you did. So, if you watched a movie instead of going to a party, going to the party was the opportunity cost of watching the movie.

This concept applies when we think about donating money because the choice we make is not simply a choice about whether or not to give to a certain organization. Rather, the real choice we make is whether to give to Organization A or to Organization B. Therefore, it is necessary that we not just ask whether Organization A does some good. We must instead ask: is giving to Organization A a better use of my money than giving to Organization B (or C, or D, etc.)? This question is unavoidable: every time we give to one organization, we are forfeiting the opportunity to give to another.

There is no way around this fact.

Because Jesus gives us a clear command that we are to think wisely about how we use our money, I believe it is sinful to blindly give to an organization without conducting at least a cursory

investigation of that organization’s ministry. Such an investigation should include questions about how the organization spends its money, what its mission is, how it accomplishes that mission, how central its mission is to the gospel, who its leaders are, etc.

Third, I think a few have objected to the application of the principles I advise because of a gut reaction: well, I know this ministry, I’ve seen that it does good in the world. For instance, I have criticized Franklin Graham for taking a salary of $1.2 million.

People may object to my criticism of Franklin Graham because they have been to his crusades or participated in Operation Christmas Child. I’m not denying that such ministries may do some good. I’m saying: let’s help them do more with the resources they have.

How? Well, the pressure that the Charlotte Observer recently put on Franklin Graham led him to cut his compensation in half and to restructure other parts of his ministries’ finances, including eliminating such wasteful expenditures as spending $1 million per year on lawn care. That’s a lot of money that the Charlotte Observer freed up so that it could actually go to the real mission of those ministries. If Franklin Graham’s organizations now spend $900,000 less on lawn care and $600,000 less paying him, then they have $1.5 million more to use for their ministries. It’s as if the Charlotte Observer had given the ministries a check for $1.5 million.

On the other hand, if the Charlotte Observer had been unsuccessful at persuading Franklin Graham to spend his organizations’ money better, donors may have decided, based on the information uncovered by the Observer, to give to other organizations instead. Eventually, that financial pressure may have influenced Franklin Graham to make the same decisions. In the meantime, those donations could have gone to other organizations that were already devoting much more of their money to support the same work. Either way, more money would end up serving the real missions that presumably motivate people to give to Franklin Graham in the first place.

I am convinced that if more Christians took the call to stewardship seriously, significantly more money would flow to the causes we all agree are important: preaching the gospel and meeting the needs of a hurting world. I believe that additional money would come not just from a more parsimonious attitude

by Christian charities, but also from increased generosity by Christians responding to the inspiring example set by leaders who actually practice what they preach. •

john montague graduated from the UC Berkeley School of Law in 2010.

He was one of the founding editors of To An Unknown God. Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 13

reflection

A Heavenly Tapestry:

The Splendor of Downright Blunders and New Directions contributing writer

Sarah Knight

H

•

• •

•

ow

terrible is retrospect.

Everything is clearer, right? Shoot, I should have made a list before I went to Trader Joe’s; if I had, I would not have bought copious amounts of food, mostly cookies, that I do not need. I should have called my friend a little more often. If I had made an effort, we may still have a relationship. That interview would have gone so much more smoothly if I had opened the stupid link to that research paper rather than simply scanning the abstract. I should have given that guy a chance. Humans, by our nature, will always make mistakes. Ever notice how many songs are composed of repenting lyrics, or simply state, “I’m sorry?” The annoying aspect of mistakes is that whatever we did seemed right at the time. Yet, although we can make an attempt to be perfect, perfection is still unachievable, unless maybe you are a demigod, but let’s admit even Hercules and Gilgamesh had issues. “Would haves” and “should haves” can certainly eat away at our contentment, so why can we not simply drive those out of our minds? I do not believe that our regrets are the devil working within us, but they can certainly be demons. Thankfully, God has our demons woven into his masterpiece.

Every moment I consider a mistake I have made recently, my stomach drops. I feel as though I have been punched in the gut, and all of my breath has left the comfort of my alveoli before I even have the chance to shout a pathetic, “unfair!” I let that horrid, despicable mistake disrupt my sleep, feed my migraines, and consume my day and my happiness. I become enveloped in a winter of blunders. I try to count sheep as I wait patiently for rest to come, but then my subconscious becomes my

14 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

true adversary. What happens when the sheep begin jumping back over the fence after they have already been counted? Subtraction? No, thank you. I simply fall into a murky abyss of regret. However, God develops an unexpected anecdote for my chill, often when and where I least expect it.

When I have had a terrible day, there is one house on a corner near my apartment that I absolutely relish passing. I will always lift my eyes once I reach the sidewalk against this house.

If anything, it forces me to look up. The building itself has nothing special about it; however, the avenue is overtaken by the house’s greenery— large, fanning leaves, voluptuous flowers, branches that extend outward to reach for any oncoming passerby, and blades of bright green grass that tickle the legs of those who dare to cross their path. It is like an Eden amongst the maze of classrooms, apartments, labs, and lecture halls that Berkeley has to offer. Do not get me wrong; Berkeley is a beautiful place, but this tiny area in particular never fails to lift my spirits. I take a few steps and I am suddenly in the rain forests of the Amazon, or maybe the Indian forests, like in The Jungle Book. It is my little escape, if only for a few fleeting moments.

The sun brings out the best in this little arena. It brightens the greens, and if I look up through the widest leaves, I can trace the plant veins that are illuminated by brilliant light. My snow momentarily melts to welcome a warm, enveloping summer, and I am at peace.

“When the world was all covered with snow, I forgot the colors that the grass used to grow,” sings the lead singer of the band Noah and the Whale in their song “Shape of My Heart.” I realize that, in my dreariest, most guilt-ridden

• •

sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). In other words, our mistakes open new opportunities for God to work through us. We are faced with so many decisions every day, particularly as college students, and these decisions, if made incorrectly, can open the door to more mistakes. Our only option is to take whatever may come with grace and wisdom. We must look our demons in the face and vanquish them. It is difficult to determine whether or not the events of our life are indeed God’s plan, but the best we can do is trust in God, and know that he is steering us in the correct direction—that his quilting needle is working with purpose. We need to relinquish ourselves and fall into God’s grace; otherwise, our tapestry would be incomplete.

I personally wrestle with this concept, especially as I am a self-proclaimed control freak. But here it is, simply stated, in the Bible, “Trust in the lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight,” in Proverbs 3:5–6. All right, this is no excuse to stop trying altogether. We cannot refuse to study for the mcat and still expect God to find us a spot in Harvard Medical School, or walk late at night around downtown Berkeley without BearWalk, expecting God to protect us.

God does not condone sheer laziness nor does he physically defend us; he works more as an omniscient presence through others and our surroundings, perhaps as the mcat study group leader or as the BearWalk guy. Yet, it is pleasant to know that he is holding our hand as we meander through our attempt at being human.

He drops opportunities before us and hopes that we take them. God created man brilliantly imperfect. He knew humans would fall, and he knows that we may stray, but he glorifies us as his creations. God is our Da Vinci and we are his Mona Lisa. Without mistakes, we would not learn, we would not find new direction, nor would we relish our symbolic springtime. Life would lose its splendor, for if we were absolutely flawless our quilt would lose its interest and our painting its character. •

• • •

moments, I forget the colors. My mistakes and regrets blanket my world with snow, and my memory of the majesty of life is lost, but the greenery of this house often acts as my reminder.

When we fear the repercussions of the mistakes we have made, everything seems dark and bleak, and those shadows can remain with us for years to come. But this gloom is simply the winter. And there will always be a spring if we let it happen. “You will surely forget your trouble, recalling it only as waters gone by. Life will be brighter than noonday, and darkness will become like morning” ( Job 11:16–17 niv). We just need to be aware in order to recognize his artistic redirection.

I am no quilter, but I like to think that our mistakes are just another addition to the gigantic quilt that the Lord is sewing with his amiable quilting group. He will chat with a bunch of old ladies (most likely our relatives) about his day of making plans and guiding life. Once the quilt is sewn, he will display it, like a tapestry, so that we may observe it in all of its glory.

Mine shall be titled, “Sarah’s Quilt: Mistakes, Achievements, and Overall Existence.” Or at least that is how I would like to envision it. I am confident there will be some repetition on my quilt because I have unquestionably made a few mistakes twice. There will be that time I scarcely studied for my first organic chemistry midterm and failed. A small, richly embroidered patch will contain an exact, thread-borne replication of my neighbor, who used to supply my brother and me with Twix bars and delicious, dinosaurshaped cookies. I should have gotten to know this neighbor before she passed away, this neighbor who never failed to give us a birthday card with five dollars nestled in its fold, who displayed portraits of us in her hospital room.

Some patches will be filled with gray, miserable fabric. Yet, God and I will gaze at my quilt and appreciate its detail and beauty, and I will praise him on the stunning work he has constructed.

When our mistakes keep us awake at night, when they blind us to the splendor of living and of God, then they become satanic, ugly little things. However, the Bible reads, “My grace is

Sarah Knight is a secondyear pursuing a Molecular and Cell Biology major with an English minor. She hails from Eureka, CA, attends the First Presbyterian Church of Berkeley, and loves to write.

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 15

A letter

reflection

to those who have been Christian all their lives staff writer

Alice Oh

• • • Alice Oh is a freshman from Hong Kong who just wants to explore through the world we live in and listen to the laughs and sighs of people.

T

h ere are so many people who identify as Christian, but not all of us became Christian in the same way. There is the classic, I-used-to-be-an-unbelieverbut-I-came-to-know-Christ scenario: people who recently started going to church because of their friends; people who converted to Christianity because their spouse would only marry a Christian; people who believe in the existence of a “god” and refer to themselves as Christians without knowing what it means to be a true Christian; and, certainly, people who call themselves Christians just because the U.S. has its roots in Christianity. After all, we still use bills and coins with “In God We Trust” written on them. But this article will mainly be for those who were born and raised in a Christian family, were baptized at birth, and have gone to church all their lives.

I feel you.

I basically became a “Christian” as soon as I was born and have been receiving prayers since I was conceived. I probably heard my mom read a few Bible verses before I was even born!

I was automatically baptized by my parents’ decision, and I could play worship songs on the piano before I even learned to play “Für Elise,” one of those songs everyone learns to play on the piano. Praying before lifting my spoon at the dining table has become a habit that I do not even need to think about, and I do not complain about waking up early to go to church on Sundays because it has always been that way.

I feel like I have heard certain bits of the Bible enough times that I can recall the names of Jesus’ twelve disciples, and I can even name the only two people in the Bible who never died (they are Enoch and Elijah, if you wanted to know).

Although I know that all of this is definitely a good thing, hearing people say, “You are blessed

16 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

to be born in a family of faith” or “You are raised in the right path, with your morals deeply rooted in the Bible” occasionally gets to me. Contrary to assumptions, we who have been Christians all our lives face temptations and questions of spiritual discernment of our own too, just like the rest of the Christian community.

One of the main spiritual weaknesses we may feel is staying strong with our faith. When a non-believer becomes a Christian, it is usually after a personal encounter with God through which the person finally accepts God as his or her savior. However, for us, it tends to be more difficult to be completely sure of our faith until we meet God personally, since we, in a sense, naturally became Christian instead of making our own decision to be one. For instance, although baptism is supposed to be a public declaration of faith, I technically never had a chance to make that declaration because I was baptized as a baby under my parents’ decision.

A self-motivated Christian walk is definitely harder without that personal encounter, mostly because it is harder to pray with strong faith or to relate to some of the worship songs we sing if we can’t sense God’s presence.

During my high school years, I remember being almost jealous of some of my friends who had newly became Christians, because they seemed so spirit-filled and gave testimonies of how God had been working in their lives. As happy as I was for them that they had accepted Christ into their lives, I could not exactly relate to them, as I couldn’t even speak for myself of my walk with God. Though I knew God is and has always been fair to us, I sometimes wondered why God would reveal himself so much to them and not to me. At one point, I became so frustrated that I began to wonder if there was something wrong with me, if I wasn’t

searching for God enough, or if there was a sin in my life of which I still had to repent.

However, God reveals himself to people in different ways, through the Bible, through his voice, through other people around them, through dreams, and in numerous other ways that we cannot even imagine. I only realized this as I was sharing my spiritual challenges with a close friend of mine. Although we as humans tend to only notice what we see on the surface, God actually works in ways we never notice, in ways our limited minds will never understand. I also noticed that my parents, my best spiritual mentors, live very different lives of faith. My mom is the classic type of Christian, one who practically lives in the church, actively serving in various ministries within that church. She got into the habit of praying and reading the Bible daily, and God speaks to her through Bible verses and prophetic dreams and visions; her life is a testament to how God works through her to bless those around her. My dad, on the other hand, is not the typical “spiritual” type that most think Christians to be. Although he isn’t necessarily active in church or given fancy spiritual gifts like the gift of prophecy, he is a blessing to his colleagues through his

I couldn’t even speak for myself of my walk with God. . . . I sometimes wondered why God would reveal himself so much to them and not to me. workmanship and faithfulness at work, and I believe God is revealing himself to my dad's colleagues through my dad. Regardless of what may appear on the outside, both my parents love God and want to dedicate their lives to serving God, and both of them have been great spiritual role models for me by showing me different aspects of faith.

There are various ways through which God works in our lives, and to some people, God may reveal himself in a manner that may not be as obvious, which seems to be the case for many who have been Christian all their lives, simply because there is usually less of a change in our lifestyle or mindset in our walks with God. But we mustn’t be discouraged! As the Bible reads, “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him” (Ps. 37:7 NIV). As long as we keep searching for God by praying and reading the Bible, I believe that God will bless us and rejoice over us. And that’s all that really matters. •

kevin lin

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 17

reflection

Grace

’Twas That Taught My Heart to Fear con t r i b u t i n g w r i t e r

Timothy Hogue

1 J. R. R Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

2 C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia

Y

ou fear them, but you do not fear them enough, yet.” ¹ So spoke a wise, noble king to his stalwart, albeit naïve companion, who had failed to grasp the gravity of his circumstances. It is easy to pass over these words with little serious thought, but I believe Christians would do well to consider this statement which Aragorn made to Frodo concerning the Ringwraiths pursuing him. It is not my intention to dwell on the specifics, but the gist of this indictment may just as well be applied to Christians. We do not fear enough.

Jesus certainly had this in mind when he told his disciples, “And be not afraid of them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: rather fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matt. 10:28 asv). Jesus here advises His disciples to be afraid, and very afraid at that. Why then, is fear so foreign to our ‘Christian’ vocabulary? It seems to me we have forgotten whom we ought to fear, and why we ought to fear him.

My first question: whom should we fear?

We need look no further than Luke’s account of the above quote for an answer. Jesus says: “But I will warn you whom ye shall fear: Fear him, who after he hath killed hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, Fear him” (Luke 12:5; emphasis mine). Likewise Peter later instructs Christians, “Fear God” (1 Pet. 2:17). This same fear has been confessed by the saints for millennia. Moses wrote: “Thou shalt fear Jehovah thy God” (Deut. 6:13). Asaph, the psalmist, sang that the Lord was “to be feared above all gods” (1 Chron. 16:25). Solomon tells us that “the fear of Jehovah is the beginning of knowledge” (Prov. 1:7). A list of all such inscripturated instances would surpass the scope of this article.

18 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

Now, do not let it escape your notice that when Jesus instructs his disciples in this ancient fear, he is revealing something new as well. He himself is that new revelation. When Jesus speaks of God, he is referring to himself. The Psalmist wrote: Serve Jehovah with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish in the way, for his wrath will soon be kindled. Blessed are all they that take refuge in him. (Ps. 2:11–12) In his incarnation, Jesus was a historical manifestation of the Eternal Son, the second person of the Holy Trinity. This ought not be lost on us if we call ourselves Christians. In a sense, Jesus is here instructing us: “I am he, fear ye me.” Let us not forget that this same Jesus who came to redeem us will come again to judge the world with fire, that the Lamb of God is also the Lion of Judah. C. S. Lewis, in his famous excursus on Christianity (I am referring, of course, to The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe), thus describes him: “Who said anything about safe? ’Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.” ² Having briefly dealt with the “whom” of Christ’s instruction, I turn now to the “why.”

The reason appended to the command to fear God in the gospels is that he “is able to destroy both soul and body in hell,” he “hath power to cast into hell.” We ought to fear the Lord because he determines the final fate of our souls. Jesus directs us to consider the eternal, rather than the temporal. “Be not afraid of them that kill the body,” he says, “rather fear him who is able to destroy both body and soul in hell” (Matt. 10:28). Any dangers that assail

us in this life will not compare to the judgment and righteous wrath of God. When surrounded by men who morbidly feared a stormy sea, the Prophet Jonah declared, “I am a Hebrew, and I fear Yahweh, God of the heavens, who made the sea and the earth” ( Jon. 1:9; translation mine).

Jonah rightly recognized the sovereignty of his Creator, for “hath not the potter a right over the clay?” (Rom. 9:21). Even King Nebuchadnezzar recognized God as the one who “doeth according to his will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, What doest thou?” (Dan. 4:35). Paul refers to God as the one “who worketh all things after the counsel of his will” (Eph. 1:11).

So then, what does this mean for us? As Christians we ought to take Christ at his word.

Jesus tells his disciples to “fear him, who after he hath killed hath power to cast into hell.” We should fear God for in his hands rest the eternal fates. We ought to fear Christ, for, as the Son, he executes the will of the Father. “In righteousness he judges and wages war” (Rev. 19:11 NASB).

But when the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the angels with him, then shall he sit on the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all the nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as the shepherd separateth the sheep from the goats. […The goats] shall go away into eternal punishment: but the righteous into eternal life. (Matt. 25: 31–32, 46 asv) Many Christians find the idea of fearing Christ strange or objectionable. “Jesus loves me,” they say; “God is a God of love: why should I be afraid?” He is of love, yes, but the same Bible that speaks of God’s love speaks also of his wrath. On the last day he will judge his enemies without mercy. John writes of Jesus: And out of his mouth proceedeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron: and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness of the wrath of God, the Almighty.

(Rev. 19:15)

Friend, have you been united to Christ? Will you stand as a sheep on the day of judgment?

Do you fear him?

Or perhaps you will object on slightly more orthodox grounds. “Well, if I am a Christian wasn’t I chosen by God? Can I lose my salvation?

What have I to fear?” Friend, our Lord’s assurance of salvation is a most beautiful grace, but assurance is very different from presumption.

Beware the latter. Paul similarly advised the Philippians: “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling” (Phil. 2:12 NIV). Peter wrote: Wherefore, brethren, give the more diligence to make your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things, ye shall never stumble: for thus shall be richly supplied unto you the entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. (2 Pet. 1:10–11 asv)

christine han

J. C. Ryle, the first Bishop of Liverpool, excellently described our current situation: “Well would it be for many professing Christians if they were more afraid about their souls than they now are!” ³ Brothers and sisters, I urge you to consider carefully the state of your souls. We have a great and awesome God. Do you fear him?

Finally, let me offer some encouragement in light of these sobering observations. If we are in Christ, we have been adopted as sons by God, our Father. So as a young child may rightly fear his father and yet realize that he is acting for the child’s good, so too may we draw near to God in humility, recognizing that He is immeasurably more powerful than we can imagine, holding our souls in the palm of his hand, and yet abounding in grace and mercy to those who diligently seek him. Jesus does instruct us to fear, but he also comforts us saying, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out” ( John 6:37). God’s grace abounds to save to the uttermost. Truly, he whom we should most greatly fear, all other fears relieves. •

3 Holiness (Carlisle, PA: Evangelical Press, 1979).

Timothy Hogue, from Patterson, CA, is a third-year student majoring in Ancient Near Eastern Civilization, focusing especially on Near Eastern languages.

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 19

reflection

at the contributing writer

Sean Jeong

* The paragraph is a slight paraphrasing of a quote by Kierkegaard to change the subject from the third person to first person.

Center of the universe I

’m not sure when exactly it started. I’m not quite sure what started the process either; the road to hell is gradual. A demon has nested an egg inside my heart. Or more likely, it has always been there, clawing and gnawing its way through.

And suddenly I find myself face-to-face with it. I find that the ministries I have undertaken have become burdensome. I find that the relationships I have cultivated become draining.

I find myself measuring the scales of social exchange, finding imbalance too often, and wondering when I began to keep count. In perpetual frustration, I have exchanged the joys of a renewed life for chains, and can no longer tell if I am building character or destroying it every time another event strains my patience.

The demon has many names. Some, being old-fashioned, call it pride. Some, feeling sympathetic or guilty, call it “being human.”

Some, attempting to rationalize it, may call it the Id. I used to think that it was selfishness, and certainly that is a quintessential human trait, but I believe it is also because I am still egocentric.

Egocentrism is the inability to see outside of ourselves, to “put oneself in another’s shoes” (whereas selfishness is placing one’s own needs and desires before those of others). With the young, this occurs because of their incompletely developed brains. A child sees a pencil roll under a couch and thinks that his mother also knows the pencil is there because he is unable to understand that, unlike him, from where she is, she never got to see the pencil roll under the couch. As the child grows older, the brain quickly matures and he outgrows this developmental occurrence.

However, I think that some form of egocentrism still remains with me because even though my brain has matured, my heart has not.

How many times have I been frustrated by a slow

•

When you are lost, Sean JEONG is the sheep next to you, just as lost, waiting for the Shepherd.

20 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

driver in front of me only to be embarrassed by my own impatience when I notice that the driver is 70+ years old as I finally pass him by?

How often have I felt abandoned in my times of trouble by friends whose support I expected, but they had their own troubles?

In immediate feelings I never understand another. When I myself suffer I do not understand the suffering of another and neither is my own happiness the key to understand the happiness of another. My immediate feeling selfishly understands all in relation to myself.* When my ministry does not go in my envisioned direction, I perceive failure and alienation rather than assessing the needs of those I meant to serve. When my relationships do not meet my expectations, I judge based on my disappointments rather than see their circumstances.

Indeed, the combination of my selfishness and egocentrism has formed a formidable barrier between myself and others. My egocentrism continually shoves my own circumstances and needs in my face, and my selfishness relentlessly insists I need to look no further. As I slowly give in, I lose perspective, acclimating to seeing the world with my eyes rather than God’s. And as I turn more toward myself and less to God, I find that there is a demon at the center of the universe, and it looks awfully like me.

It would be egocentric of me to think that this demon exists only for me. C. S. Lewis said that the small decisions we make on a daily basis turn us into saints or demons in the long haul. As such, it is not a demon that can be vanquished, but rather be chained and tamed gradually, yet constantly. I hope, by the grace and power of God, by earnest prayer and humble introspection, that we can learn to identify the voice of this danger and overcome it in our daily struggle to glorify him. •

Glory

reflection

Astounded by

• contributing writer

Eric Tsang

••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• •••

eric tsang is a second-year student from the pleasant little town of Millbrae, ca.

W

hile

God often shows his love and grace to draw hearts, I have come to realize how his Glory, comprised of Majesty and Holiness, also subdues, conquers, and compels.

The experience occurred during a night of worship in which I couldn’t bring myself to utter a single word, as I was bitter about submitting.

“I know you’ve given him a position of authority, but why can’t I do it my way?” I complained to God. It was no pleasant experience being in a room, knowing I should be worshiping but unwilling, unable, and resistant against it.

An interior divide formed, a rift of the will. In Christian terms (the most apt, I think) my sinful flesh waged war against my spirit. I could only pray that God would soften my heart.

Soon after, when the worshipers began singing a song about how God commands glory and majesty in his presence, I felt an urge, an impetus foreign to myself (which some may call the voice of God) to get down on my knees.

When I refused, the urge became a pressure, and it grew. Though I persisted in my resistance, there came a point, only a split-second, in which I felt my dried will falter out of weariness and crack in the same split-second. So I kneeled.

All of a sudden, I realized I was before the presence of God All-Mighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth. In that vision, the reality of Revelations 4:8 came pressing down upon me: “Day and night [the four living creatures] never stop saying: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come’” (niv). Not only did he appear awesome in power, but he blazed in Holiness. In a mix of terror and remorse—terror of his Holiness consuming me along with my sin, and contrition from having the impertinence to think of myself

as more than a speck in comparison to his Magnificence—what could I do but weep? I felt the shafts of his Holy Glory impaling me—how physical they seemed! Just as light casts out all, and not just some, darkness, in the presence of such greatness, there was no way I could hold onto even a hint of my sin, my pride. It was fear, yes, and reverence that made me tremble.

Certainly, some may argue that my mind was just playing tricks on me or that I was self-deceptive and had convinced myself into believing I saw and heard God when I really didn’t. But my intention is not to prove its validity. Rather, I was compelled by the effects it had on me. In the moment of my realization, I was liberated from the self-bondage of pride, the feeling of which is asphyxiating, like a man who draws in and fills his lungs with much air, puffing his chest up and unwilling to exhale, lest he should be seen in his true and original small form. In my pride, I had built up barricades to keep God out, but in the process, I had imprisoned myself, while deep within, I desired freedom. Thus, when he tore through the walls I had set up and dealt me a blow to the chest, I gave in to the torrents of victorious light that came rushing in, wave after wave.

Yet it was in this same moment of surrender and being humbled, in that momentary loss of my self and my sin in focus on him, that I found a new life in him. Having been dragged into the light, like the man in Plato’s cave, I breathed newfound freedom—freedom from an ignorant, selfcentered mind. Thus, in being humbled, I didn’t, as perhaps my pride had made me fear, become an odious, fawning creature but instead came to fully experience the truth of Proverbs 15:33— “The fear of the Lord teaches a man wisdom, and humility comes before honor.” • Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 21

22  To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

young, maybe 12, yeah, no problem, in cambodia

she can do yum yum (oral sex)? yes. boom boom?

“Children for Sale” — Dateline NBC

(translate sympathy into contribution: International Justice Mission at UC Berkeley)

One girl: $30. And two girls? $60.

I thought, I am here to serve coffee, not be a prostitute

reflections on the injustice of sex trafficking — anonymous

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 23

poiesis, n.

“The Ministry of Seduction” On my way to the Master, I met a Mistress.

And her name was Ministry.

I had a mesmerizing affair

with Ministry.

And I married this Mistress,

on my way to the Master.

On my way to the Savior, I met a Seductress.

And her name was Service.

I had a salacious passion

for Service And I slept with this Seductress, on my way to the Savior.

“The Seduction of Ministry”

— Daniel Curran

c h r i s24 tin eTo ha An n Unknown God | Spring 2011

creative production,

especially of a work of art till expiry in the deep recesses of space, even the most splendid of stars is consigned a place among the dark eternal shroud there it must remain for the rest of its days in the day of its youth, it effuses torrents of fire in a violent glory in the day of its old age, it resigns to simpler displays of incandescence when it has breathed its last breath, splendor all but spent, it erupts in a final, odious cry, a brilliant flash and is no more there is none to see it, nor to hear its cry, nor to remember it, but the great Divine, seated above the ineffable emptiness of the cosmos — a.s.l. excerpt from “reflections on sotherow, january”

— Anthony Lam

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 25

kevin lin

prayer “the split subjectivity” is something i learned about my first semester, the human divided, fragmented, torn will will claim this, do that profess this, don’t do that i accept as truth almost everything the Prof.s tell me in class, and usually God; maybe that contributes to my do don’t do don’t do don’t? confusion goes where knowledge was supposed to follow, i want voices but more i find that i want the this Voice— why and how this choice? hope fully this prayer can put me to seeing Will.

Masks: As I dawn this mask, I approach the dusk of life.

Fading to black, The heaviness of darkness, eroding integrity.

An accretion of the energies, A hollowing of the soul The other, the demon inside, divides the self.

A prison of rage, A shell of despair, A double-edged sword.

The spiritual limit, The soul screams: The potential it holds, The power it holds, The poison it holds.

from that muteness, You start my “i” to recognize; men and i no longer like trees split in halves, but wholly swept in protective Love.

Desiring unity with the hidden self, The other, me.

Embracing singularity, We are as one.

— Sharon Kim

­­— Justin Schaefer

26 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

Approaching Calvary We have come now, you and I, to the foot of this place called Golgotha spread against the sky, where the aggrandizement of the tree reaches to the horizon.

Here we are left when snow falls, burying with deathly peace the earth, until the cold unfeeling twiceentombed rise up to answer fate, tempting questions before dissolving into uncertainties.

So we remain with only snow to warm and comfort us, the wind that carries with it empty voices groaning that which never can be uttered, sad songs that we are here now, you and I.

I stand upright for faithless I approach my King, lacking that which has been given, proud that I cannot guide my eyes to all the glory which supports me, unable to bow.

Oh, to live an ancient man, so that I could be forced to bend under the burden of a life spent long ago, to lie myself down prostrate with the knowledge of my shame, that either I kneel too reluctantly, or that I must need kneel too much.

But knowledge thus defeats the struggle, for I ask this cup be taken, knowing I have not the strength to trust and bear the tree, nor will sufficient even to believe.

I cry Eli Eli Lama sabachthani Psalm out of memory Mistaken down empty Corridors of thought

The space between these shaking hands becomes a chasm far too wide to cross; two arms seem not enough to hold these likewise lifted men against the clouded, darkened sun, and broken breath scratches another death into the ragged sky.

Yet, these blemished hands that brand a murderer reach up to cradle a dead body without warmth, or voice, or comfort left to give but fear and wasted days, receding fast into the painted clouds that frame the canvased sky.

Now, two hands draw close the space that still remains for hope, lost in their solitary way without a guide, so that all wandering speech, all sound returns unheard to echo those listening faintly beneath the empty sky.

Amidst the silence of the shattered air like glass, or glassy mirrors miming motions pleasing to the seas and to the eyes of angels, souls stand motionless, unhesitant, uninterrupted, bathed by the gentle rains.

In the stillness brought by faithlessness, with no eyes left to see, some better hands remove a stone, reveal the once-entombed, now empty space containing life so beautiful.

Here we are led then, you and I, by our good Shepherd, knowing quiet water comes, but that the dryness is first necessary; we are led then to the cross to fall in wonder, worshipping our resurrected Lord.

— Wesleigh Anderson Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God  27

confessions of the intellectual when i think about You when i’m brought to my knees You remind me You came here for those who know their disease when my philosophy sums to zero they laugh scoffing simpleton lunatic when the catechisms consume me

my cerebrum scratches

existence

why

You’ve given us a sound mind yet You are paradox defined master of dualities simultaneous reality it’s all about but You’re all about isn’t that even just a little bit You say the Lion

You me crazy?

I am who I am

and the Lamb three in one one in three the Holy Ghost

infinite trinity but do Your Words ever spring forth beyond memory to erase the doubt that You’re invented talking to myself the wall

and

the breeze

but even when the Sirens of this age sing insanity

Faith.

You dragged my soul parched bleeding

28 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011 anthony lam

limp

cold

through the fire to reveal

You

what’s worth it or this world

so i must remember who i speak to

King of kings Lord of lords

recall the moments

You had answered this relationship is

not

indentured

i live to behold Beauty reflect Glory fall in Love. and above the fog the rhetoric the nietzsches the impossibilities Hope. i’ll be standing before You with a dented shield a rusted sword barely breathing to hear Well done Good and faithful servant you’re home so enjoy My party

— Andrew Kuo Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 29

the night is full of memory and as lampposts wink me by, the shrouded skies tell me tonight the snow globe’s fogged outside the art of walking’s lost to us, we’re children, still, with toys our manic minds in metal hides both create and blocking noise i find it contradictory to so well know that nights are nice when oftentimes the sun’s demise beckons darkest hours of life o black indeed when cooped in skull, when trapped away from truth, indeed how black the blinding lack the waste of life on youth in wee-est hours of final morns, before i cast away, the shifting greys and manmade rays hint hope for crouching day the globe, i see, is clouded now but not for dust or rain; my shepherd’s breath fogs up the glass on His watch safe i stay.

— Kawai Mang

Your Word You told me to have faith in who You are.

So I picked up a Bible. Put the Word in my heart.

But the Word, it would wrestle with my questions. They start To explore if my mettle is really that large.

Large enough to keep Your Word in my soul, When my ethnicity brings me loneliness I froze In faith, and believed that I needed to grow Blue eyes and blonde hair, I was bound by a rope Made from the strands of deceit and disbelief That were woven by my grief together with their greed They said Christianity is an American creed So I questioned daily if they forgot about me.

Until I found the liberty that I saw in your Grace When you put these questions in my heart to replace Blind faith with the faith that holds in its gaze Your Word for what it is, love that won’t fade.

— Steven Cong christine han

30 To An Unknown God | Spring 2011

and they shall never perish

T o An Unknown God’s Café Night S aturday, April 23 7–9pm,

doors open at 630 F irst Presbyterian Church of Berkeley

Spring 2011 | To An Unknown God 31

Every semester, To An Unknown God relies heavily on private dontations to fund its printing costs. Please prayerfully consider donating to make our next issue possible! Any amount is appreciated. Checks should be made out to ASUC/To An Unknown God and mailed to:

ASUC/To An Unknown God 400 Eshleman Hall Berkeley, CA 94720

christine chen