morbid

Easter

I have non-Christian friends that hassle me for celebrating Easter. They think I am clueles to all of the pagan incorporations the holiday has. My rebuttal is, "who cares?". I take Easter, and the time leading up to it, to remember the death of Jesus and the great sacrifice He made.

Anyway, here is a really cool article I read on Jesus Manifesto. Thanks Adam for the link:

The Scandal of Easter
Written by Mark Van Steenwyk : March 18, 2008
Easter is coming. On Sunday, we remember the day that our Lord wrested free from the confines of the grave. It is the day when the final Enemy, death began its own march to the grave.

Holy Week is an odd time of year. My family didn’t celebrate Holy Week. To me, it was simply a day of pastel marshmallow bunnies and birds (I think Peeps taste nasty) , colored hard-boiled eggs, and jelly beans. Nothing more. Pretty lame as far as holidays go. The only one in my family who really liked Easter was my sister Chantel, but only because she loved coloring the eggs so much.

As I got older, I began to notice peculiar things about the season leading up to Easter. I noticed that on some Wednesday about a month before Easter, people got smudges of ash placed upon their foreheads. Vaguely, I knew that the ash thing had something to do with Easter. And I think I knew that Easter had to do with the day that Jesus went up into heaven or something.

I embraced Christianity in my teens. I had the weepy camp experience and got really involved in church. My faith meant a lot to me. And I really really loved Jesus. My family wasn’t really into Jesus and church at the time, so I felt like it was MY thing. That made it all the more special to me. Around that time I realized that the smudgy ash day was Ash Wednesday. Our church didn’t celebrate that stuff because we believed it was dead religion. But I secretly thought it was kinda cool. I also learned that Holy Week was kind of a big deal. Especially Good Friday, which was about how Jesus died. Lutherans and Catholics had other special days during the week, but we charismatics and Pentecostals and low church evangelicals really only focused on two days: Good Friday and Easter. Cross and Resurrection. They were all that mattered.

It was on the Cross, you see, that Jesus took all of our sins upon himself and then died. He took our just punishment. And on Easter Jesus rose from the dead–a sign that his sacrifice was accepted by God. And it showed that Jesus is more powerful than sin and death. If we believe that he died on the Cross for our own sins, we too can be resurrected some day.

The nice thing about all of this is that God takes me just as I am, right? Once I trust in his sacrifice on my behalf, I can trust that, some day, I will join him in Heaven. Right? That is what Easter is all about. It is about me being accepted as I am. What I do with the rest of my life matters…but not as much as the joyful recognition that my afterlife is secured.

Easter is that day when you appear
Sweet Jesus
To whisper sweet nothings into my ear
Sweet Jesus
And to forgive my sins, my dear
Sweet Jesus
Like drinking too much beer
Being insincere
And forgetting you all year
Sweet Jesus

Show me the path
Sweet Jesus
Away from God’s wrath
Sweet Jesus
Give my soul a bath
Sweet Jesus
So that I can laugh
For all the junk I hath
From plying $atan’s math
Sweet Jesus

You make me white as snow
Sweet Jesus
So merrily I go
Sweet Jesus
To maintain the status quo
Sweet Jesus
Like keeping down the low
Having too much dough
Or killing all my foes
Sweet Jesus

The scandal of Easter is that it has been used to reinforce the status quo. Instead of seeing the Cross and Resurrection as a death to the old way and the opening of a new way, it is tempting to see them mechanistically. If we believe, our slate is cleaned. And we can continue on as though nothing has ever happened.

And so, because of Jesus’ death, I don’t have to change my life. I’m not responsible for changing the corrupt systems that I’ve inherited. I don’t have to worry about the poor. I don’t need to DO anything. Jesus took care of all that on the Cross. And when he rose from the dead, he made it possible for me to go to the Kingdom of God when I die.

This way of seeing Easter permeates the Western understanding of Christianity. But is this how Jesus understood his death? As he gathered disciples and set his face towards Jerusalem, he called his followers to take their cross and follow him. In his final week, he cleanses the Temple, speaks against the teachers of the Law, and predicts the destruction of the Temple.

His death was an act of judgment against a corrupt system. And in his resurrection, ascension, and pouring out of the Spirit, a new way is opened up for us to speak prophetically to the domination system (the global web of institutions and governments in the hands of the few that oppress the many), resist the powers, and live in the Kingdom. Here. Now.

I don’t mean to diminish the reconciling work of Jesus on the Cross. By no means. Nor am I advocating that God will only forgive you if you do stuff for him. I am merely suggesting that we need to drop our transactional understanding of the Gospel. To follow Jesus is to walk in his way. His death and resurrection opens up for us a new way. We, filled by the Spirit, are called to live and move in the way of Jesus. Let us remember Jesus’ death and resurrection by taking up our cross and experiencing a new way of life.

The testosterone is pumping at Mark's house tonight. Six hairy men are playing Rock Band and being loud. It's hard to believe that literally 5 hours ago, Mark was sitting up here in his PJs watching "Titanic".

HB JOSH

I got the best birthday gift ever – I found out that I am Dog the Bounty Hunter’s account representative for his yellow page listing. I left him a voicemail yesterday. Too bad he is racist and stuff…

Ava Adore

And I'll pull your crooked teeth
You'll be perfect just like me
You'll be a lover in my bed
And a gun to my head
We must never be apart
We must never be apart

There's No Point Trying to Fight it

Last night Brandon and I took his co-worker friend, Paola, out around Denver. Paola is from Mexico and is just visiting here this week for some work training. It was really fun to walk around downtown and look at your city from a visitor’s standpoint. I drive by some of these landmarks everyday and don’t even give them two thoughts. We really do live in a beautiful city. I also decided that I need to marry a foreign girl because their accents are so damn cute! Paola was trying to say that our pizza is “better” here in America, but it came out as “Bear pizza in America”. We gracefully informed her that we do not serve bear meat on pizzas here (lol).

I think I drank too much coffee, because on the ride from dropping off Paola,  I puked…haha. I don’t even know why, my stomach just felt gnarly, so I asked Brandon to pull over and got sick on someone’s lawn. It was pretty classy. The good news is, I felt like a million bucks after all that coffee was out of my stomach.

Today was my first day back at riding my bike to work. It felt good, and I arrived to the office with a lot of energy. On the light-rail, I continued reading On The Road. Reading it made me want to pop my thumb out and hitchhike to San Francisco.

Sidenote: The new Ours album is released today. Do yourself a favor and pick it up. It is really incredible.

Make that Wall Your Biotch, Chris!

I have been climbing/bouldering fairly consistently for the last month or so. It has been a really great workout and the sense of accomplishment you feel when you make it through a problem is like no other. Last night, a few friends and myself went to Paradise Rock on 62^nd/Washington. This gym is home to a few pro-climbers and is pretty impressive. We decided to go the cheap route and do bouldering instead of rope-climbing. I must say, it was the most challenging spots I have ever been to. None of us were able to finish even one problem. Nevertheless, it kicked my butt and I feel nice and sore today! My hands are calloused and my shoulders are destroyed, but it’s a good pain!

Anyway, I said all that to say, you (the reader) should come climbing with me. Such a fun buddy sport!

I hope this sticks.

Abby and I decided that we are going to start our very own e-book club haha. We are going to mutually read an article, short story or book each week and discuss it on Fridays. I am excited because this will be motivation for me to turn the T.V. off and actually use my mind when I am at home. This week’s discussion will be on:

Christopher’s Article about post-Collegiate life

Kafka’s “Hunger Artist”

I think I would totally do this

Get Malaria for $4000


It's in Seattle, Do it Abby!

One of the best blogs I've read in a while:

Stuff White People Like

Go Now in the Light of Your God

Did your mother ever say "If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything at all"? My mom sure did. I was thinking about that phrase the other day, and decided that I should give it a shot. I have been trying to make an attempt at letting only love come out of my mouth. Unfortunately, I have been failing miserably. Even this morning, I was on my way in to work and someone cut me off, so I immediately thought out loud "What the hell is this douche bag's problem?". Not a very loving thing to say I suppose. I think it's going to be a process though, I am becoming more aware of the things I say and trying to make adjustments. It's not even a matter of my Christian belief-system, I just want my mark left on this world to be that of love. It's so easy to make jokes at other's expense, or vent out frustration by making biting remarks. It seems like the real challenge in life is controlling your tongue. I am not saying that one should be dishonest with themselves, and bottle up anger, sadness or whatever emotion you are feeling. I just think it's important to have control over the way that is exposed in your life. Anyway, hopefully this blog doesn't sounds pompous or conceded, I just wanted to make my new resolution somewhat public so my friends can hold me accountable. LOVE YA'LL

lol

Forcing Love

He has spoken

[10:05] Jonas: eff bloggginggggggggggggg
[10:05] Madison Prep: yea but your blogs are always good to read
[10:05] Madison Prep: so keep it up biotch
[10:06] Jonas: my blog is for fun not to earn your political vote whore!
[10:12] Madison Prep: ead
[10:12] Madison Prep: there are no politics
[10:12] Madison Prep: you are the don
[10:12] Madison Prep: and that's that.
[10:12] Jonas: fair

03.01.2008

Me eyes opened as the sound of the radio pierced my ears. There was a smile on my face because I knew the day stored something great for me and my friends. I crawled out of bed and made some unintelligible noise directed at Chris who was reading a magazine on my couch. After showering and getting ready for the day, we biked over to Brandon’s house where he offered us bagels and orange juice. We ate the oily bread and talked about our lives.

From there, we piled into Chris’ flesh colored pick-up truck, affectionately called “the peen-mobile”. This is a 1980s Japanese vehicle that is not made for three people to occupy. Brandon sat in the middle on the way there, and I on the way back. Let me just say, 4^th gear is no fun. Anyway, we made it to “The Spot” in Boulder after the snug ride. Our bikes were piled up in the back. We walked into the building, strapped on our climbing shoes and started working through some “problems” as the bouldering nerds like to call it. It was such a different experience from my first time climbing. You don’t realize how much you rely on ropes until they are taken away. Despite the ground being padded, eighteen feet is a long way down. After two hours of destroying our backs and forearms, we headed out.

As the “peen-mobile” pulled up to Tim’s house, he was sitting on his porch studying and drinking some scotch. We joined him for a cigar and a glass. The smoke billowed through our beards and hair as we talked about heaven, hell, hiking and Tim’s recently deceased landlord. Afterwards, we ditched the peen and hopped on our bikes. I couldn’t help but notice how much nicer drivers are to cyclists in Boulder. We weaved in and out of lanes until our path ended at “The Mountain Sun”. There we shared a pint and some of the best fries my mouth has ever encountered.

With no specific plan or destination we embarked on a long bike ride through Boulder (after a quick stint at the bike shop for some new cages). There we rode, three in a row, making our way through the crowds of runners and roadies. I felt so graceful and so awkward all at once. The air outside was fresh and clean. My palms were aching from the leaning of my weight on them. Driving through the park as the hippies banged on their djembes and other hand drums, I felt a release. Through the sweat my body poured out the stress of my life and the thoughts that consume me.

That night, we sat around in Tim and Jaime’s living room and discussed the important stuff, like love and God. I didn’t really get any answers, but it felt good to be a part of a community. I am truly grateful for the relationships I have in my life through church and life. Days like these make me feel honored to be alive.