Excerpts from Thomas Kempis "Imitatio Christi"

"Whoever desires to understand and take delight in the words of Christ must strive to conform his whole life to him."

"And this is supreme wisdom—to despise the world, and draw daily nearer the kingdom of heaven."

"It is vanity to love things that so swiftly pass away, and not to hasten onwards to that place where everlasting joy abides."

"Keep constantly in mind the saying, “The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.” Strive to withdraw your heart from the love of visible things, and direct your affections to things invisible. For those who follow only their natural inclinations defile their conscience, and lose the grace of God."

"Do not read to satisfy curiosity or to pass the time, but study such things as move your heart to devotion."

"How good a conscience would he keep if a man never sought after passing pleasures nor became preoccupied with worldly affairs!"

"The desires of the senses call you to roam abroad, but when their hour is spent, what do you bring back but a burdened conscience and a distracted heart? A cheerful going out often brings a sad homecoming, and a merry evening brings a sorry morning. For every bodily pleasure brings joy at first, but at length it bites and destroys."

"It is often better and safer not to have many comforts in this life, especially those of the body. Yet, if we seldom or never feel God’s comfort, the fault is our own; for we neither seek contrition of heart, nor entirely forego all vain and outward consolations."

"Consider yourself unworthy of God’s comfort, but rather deserving of much suffering. When a man is perfectly contrite, this present world becomes grievous and bitter to him. A good man always finds cause for grief and tears; for whether he considers himself or his neighbors, he knows that no man lives without trouble in this life. And the more strictly he examines himself, the more cause he finds for sorrow. Our sins and vices are grounds for rightful sorrow and contrition of heart; for they have so strong a hold on us that we are seldom able to contemplate heavenly things."

"For to eat and drink, to wake and sleep, to rest and labor, and to be subject to all the necessities of nature is a great trouble and affliction to the devout man, who would rather be released and set free from all sin." (This is especially intriguing to me, if you ever bring it up in conversation with me, I would be game)

"The inner life of man is greatly hindered in this life by the needs of the body. Thus, the prophet devoutly prays that he may be set free from them, saying, “Lord, deliver me from my necessities!”"

"You will never overcome your vices, unless you discipline yourself severely."

"Learn now to die to the world, that you may begin to live with Christ."

what I learned in school

If you combine Stalin's rule by terror methods with the UN's ideas of human rights, things would get done!

Let the line above sink in a little bit. For example, Human Rights began to win in the Holocaust only when Nazi's were overcome by the slaughter put on them by the Allies. Slavery in the south ended when the North declared war and oppressors started dying in war. In order for some oppressed people to gain rights, someone has to make the oppressors the victims. In my opinion, Humanitarian Intervention fails because it is not a just system. The oppressed can hardly be uplifted without punishing the oppressor.

This is not an argument for violence necessarily. It's an argument to show the world is not "just."

"Social Justice"

My spirit longs for you God,
How I long for you.

The mouths of men shout “injustice,”
while their possessions build walls
between the suffering and themselves.

Oh help me God!
Don’t let me be like them!

Their plans fill their minds
like coal-filled stockings.
They are consumed by self,
And ignore your love.

How long will you tolerate them, Lord?
When will your hand come down
and declare justice?

How many voices will cry your name?
How long will life here go on?
Thanks be to God,
it's but a mist!


Is it just for me to sit in class, while Bobby continues in addiction and homelessness, and kids like Bobby are hitting the street right now? IS IT JUST?

When did the value of a human life become relative? Why does it take thousands, tens of thousands, or more people to “ping” our consciences? Isn’t this knowledge enough: A child starved to death? One child is dead. If you were hungry and you knew that there were people who had extra food, and they ALSO had giant planes that flew around the world, AND they did just that on a regular basis, what would you expect they were doing with those planes? Probably not vacationing.

Furthermore, how many people do you think you would need starving around you, before you thought your life was worth saving?

That is the truest thing I’ve ever heard in this class: that Human rights are a creation of the west AKA the United States of America. They only apply to humans... sorry "aliens."

On Church and State

The coming together of Church and State was one of the greatest victories the devil ever accomplished (as if such a thing could even happen, the devil accomplishing that is). For it's easy to submit to all governing authority, whether it tax heavily or persecute the believer. Hoping in Christ can easily make those things like nothing. However, what happens when it is not only the state demanding of you, but the very church oppressing you? What happens when the "church" reeks of the most grotesque forms of evil? Is one to go on submitting to the devil's church? Father God, make your true and holy church known in this world of deception.

Psalm 31: for meditation (verses 1-7)

"for the sake of your name
lead and guide me."

Not for my own good, or so I suffer less, or so I am happy, or successful, or prosperous, but for the SAKE of your name. Not so I can be proud, or perform miracles, or teach men, but for the sake of YOUR name. Not so I can write books, or attain anything that will burn away in your holy fire, but for the sake of your NAME.

"Free me from the trap that is set for me"

There IS a trap set for me! I am not safe when I walk. I am not like a man who walks in the comfort of his home. I walk like a stranger. Traps and snares are set before me, and my eyes are blind to them. Free me Lord! The traps set before me are perilous. Free me, for I cannot free myself. Do not let me think that there is no trap set before me. Help me tread free from the trap set before me.

"redeem me, O Lord, the God of truth"

Redeem me, for I am in need of redemption! I am nothing without you, and only you can redeem me. Only the truth of your holiness, and my depravity, allows me to be redeemed by you. You are the perfect example I strive to be. God can redeem me, and God alone. God, only you can redeem me, for only you will know every sin of my heart. Only you will know the lowliness of this man; the depths to which I have stooped. Only you know the cost of redeeming your unworthy servant.

"I will be glad and rejoice in your love,
for you saw my affliction
and knew the anguish of my soul"

Oh Lord, how great is the anguish of my soul! I can rejoice because you have seen me, for I am at my worst, and you still chose me. My soul will anguish always, for it longs to be sanctified. How I long to reflect the holiness of my Creator. How I am afflicted by my flesh! My soul longs for a new body, that can praise you without sinning against you. Oh the anguish of being trapped still. But O Lord, The Bliss of rejoicing in your love. The great joy of knowing peace and at home my soul will be soon. Oh the shouts of rejoice at the news: I no longer stand condemned for my life, though it be deserving of nothing but death.

Dear God! Give me patience or COME QUICK

My spirit doesn’t rest anymore.
It hasn’t known of peace or sleep.
It hasn’t learned to rest in flesh.
My spirit burns to stand the test.

And in the haze I cry, My God,
I pray my flesh to be no more
I pray for everything to die
So my life might be rectified
And in the sorrow, I cry, HOLY—
Won’t you consume me fully?
Lord, I’ve got no peace in all my days,
So in my darkness, guide my way.

Oh Jesus Christ, sweet Jesus—
I haven’t known consistency,
I haven’t any truth in me,
but how you move and live and breathe.

So be my every waking moment,
and do not leave me when I sleep.
In all the earth I’ll proclaim GLORY,
Glory to the only King.

Take me away, far, far away,
I don’t desire anything,
but that you wipe me clean,
that you don’t leave anything in me
that might keep me from my King.

Runaway

I plunged off my mind and into the night sky.
The stars were sand beneath my feet, disguising
my footprints from the world. I bit into the pear moon.
There was no core.

FIRE

Fire

For too long my heart was a naked ember, out in the open,
clinging to a heat that was waning.

Perhaps just too hot to touch, searing to the flesh,
but with a poking stick: easy and safe to move,
perfectly suitable for a small box.

One ember: what is it but a reminder
of what once burned, and is now dying away?

I feel the Holy flames now, lapping against the walls of my chest.
The world is blurring in the heat, heavy with razor sharp orange,
as my planks of blindness are consumed by God's Holiness.
My fire climbs out, it surrounds me entirely, and it runs
through the harvest field of dormant embers—
lighting the world on fire for Christ!

Father, your glory birthed the sun!

6:11 AM

At night my eyelids force my focus in
to the depths of myself, thick curtains
preventing me from reflecting light.
In my coma of darkness, I lose all strength
of will, spirit, and truth. I am a victim,
unable to lift my hands in defense. I am naked.
It is my internal crucifixion.

Torment locates my terror nerve and does
its job. My spirit, trapped in my dormant skin,
trembles like a puddle-bound worm
in a thunderstorm— just drowning.
My anxiety violently writhes against the inside
of my dead body. Everything but my voice
cries out for God. No Sound.

In fear, I jolt awake, and still,
it’s dark. My chest, wrung tight,
and heart— still feeling fight. I wait—
for a ball of fire in the air
to conquer darkness with every ray of light,
to pave the steps that lead me out of night.
Ah, the song!
I hear and see the promises of dawn.

Father, your glory birthed the sun,
and to the horizon’s gift I’ll run.

Wrestling

As many of you know, I wrestled for a good chunk of my life. The piece below was a creative writing assignment for school. It tells a bit about the last tournament I ever wrestled in. Two weeks after this tournament, my wrestling career ended forever. Here is a glimpse into my mind at the height of my wrestling career, a little more than a year before I accepted Christ.
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Whistles ram shackle the gymnasium, backed by thundering bleachers and bolts of flashes hailing down from the crowd. The stage intensifies as the wrestling tournament nears climax with every passing match. The Newark Academy wrestling tournament showcased twenty-one teams, (I know because I counted), nineteen of which had wrestlers weigh-in at 130 lbs., my weight-class.

I repeatedly thought of Rob Delores, and how I loathed his doofus grin. Rob Delores lived in my neighborhood. I swear that kid was smoking in the bathroom since the 2nd grade. On mischief night, Rob hung out with all the neighborhood punks. I watched them loiter on the street corner from my window. I hated Rob Delores. I hated every bus ride, every day, because of Rob Delores. I don’t remember a single insult (there were plenty), but I’ll never forget that dim-witted head bobbing over the back seat of the bus, laughing at himself. My anger imploded like a backwards grenade. Something evil filled my body at the slightest thought of Rob Delores. I dreamt of my knuckles crushing his nose, and feeling his warm blood quench my rage. My parents sensed a need for me to unleash my anger, and encouraged me to play sports.

Ten years passed and I was a senior at Morristown high school. I was eighteen years old, college bound, and a religious zealot ever since the third grade. My religion was wrestling. I meditated on every move, every nuance, and every moment of ten-years of discipline. My meditation would have shamed Buddhist monks. There was no wrestling season for me. Every season was a season for wrestling, every month a wrestling month, every day a wrestling day. My physical hunger was far out-weighed by my hunger for victory, for glory, to be the Pacific of oceans, the Jupiter of planets, to reign over the realm of wrestlers. I whispered to my wrestling god before every match, help me be the best.

Into the semi-finals, I did not care that it had taken me two six-minute matches to do away with my first two opponents. I failed to pin either of them, and had to gain both victories by points. I cared a little bit more that I could not turn my head left, and that spine shrieking pain—my head must have been internally detached, only held on by the skin of my neck. I told my coach. I might as well have told the gymnasium floor. His straight face did not even react to my plea for attention, or medical assistance, or a miracle from the wrestling gods. He wasn’t sure if I was healthy, but he knew I was wrestling. I knew that I was not healthy; however, I also knew that only my grave would cause me to drop out of the tournament, and the coffin lid had better be bolted shut to make it a sure thing. I was going to be the best, or die trying.

Adrenaline transcended everything physical, and brought me to my first gold medal in high school. My game was flawless. I embarrassed the two seed in the semis, and beat the top seed, state-ranked Dan Butcher, by a good margin of 9-2. I remember watching him squirm; his red flashes of brilliance wither under the strength of my will. I stripped him of his pride, his reason for living, and I cashed in at the awards ceremony.

I went home the best. My neck throbbing felt more like a victory massage from the medal and ribbon resting steady as my crown. I was a king in my world: able to demand my will and have it be done.