Thursday, October 16, 2008

Review--Do Hard Things

Do Hard Things is a component of Brett and Alex Harris’ “Rebelution,” challenges its teen audience to rebel against the low expectations our society at large has for this age group and to “reach higher, dream bigger, grow stronger, love and honor God, live with more joy—and quit wasting their lives.”

This is excellent. The book discusses the “Myth of Adolescence” and comes out on top. Our society’s invention of the teenage years has discouraged teenagers from pursuing excellence and offered a different route: settle for less. Just do the best you can. Don’t push yourself. So a distressing number of teenagers swallow the lie and accomplish little of value in what the Harris brothers term the most crucial years.

The Harris brothers, on the other hand, promote a better way. They encourage the readers to engage in five different types of “hard things”: acting outside one’s comfort zone, going beyond what is required, organizing and accomplishing projects that are too big to do alone, things that don’t have immediate payoff, and making choices at odds with the current culture. Scattered throughout the book are literally dozens of examples of teenagers doing big things. These testimonies are exciting examples of what teenagers can do to glorify God, and they are all great to read.

But there are two brief but major errors which make me unable to recommend the book.

On page 101, in the midst of their talk about exceeding expectations and pursuing excellence, they correctly identify that God has called us to be holy as He is holy. “God’s standard is not for us to be our teacher’s best helper, but to be a ‘servant of all.’”

Wonderful.

Then they say this: “God set His standards this high so that we won’t make the mistake of aiming low. He made them unreachable so that we would never have an excuse to stop growing.”

Wait. Weren’t they just talking about exceeding expectations? Aiming for excellence and being holy? So why throw that in there?

Yes, I think I know what they mean. God’s standards are very high, and we can’t make the mistake of aiming low. But unreachable? Never!

Did God not say through Moses, "For this commandment which I command you today is not too difficult for you, nor is it out of reach. It is not in heaven, that you should say, 'Who will go up to heaven for us to get it for us and make us hear it, that we may observe it?' Nor is it beyond the sea, that you should say, 'Who will cross the sea for us to get it for us and make us hear it, that we may observe it?' But the word is very near you, in your mouth and in your heart, that you may observe it.” (Deut. 30:11-14, NASB)

God told the nation of Israel that all the law He commanded was not unreachable. He said it was not too difficult for them. It was, in fact, so close that they could observe it.

So why do the Harris brothers contradict the Bible and say that it’s impossible? That in itself is enough to keep me from recommending the book.

Then, on page 126, they say, “Even good, solid, sincere Christians are sinful and imperfect.”

Troubling. 1 John says the opposite: “Little children, make sure no one deceives you; the one who practices righteousness is righteous, just as He is righteous; the one who practices sin is of the devil; for the devil has sinned from the beginning. The Son of God appeared for this purpose, to destroy the works of the devil. No one who is born of God practices sin, because His seed abides in him; and he cannot sin, because he is born of God.” (1 John 3:7-9, NASB)

In all their challenges to the reader, the most important one -- living a holy life -- is not just ignored. It is flatly denied. And it's baffling, too. Did they not quote 1 Peter 1:16, where we are told to be holy as God is holy? They acknowledge His command but turn around and state that no one can obey Him. How many will be led astray by this?

So, while I would love to promote this book as a much-needed response to the problem of apathy in my generation, I can’t. As much as they encourage their readers to make a difference in the world, they fail in the most important areas. Readers could do amazing things but remain trapped in sin, not knowing they could be set free. They would remain condemned.

Remove the two offending sections, and I will readily promote it.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Mixed Messages

This has been flitting through my head the past couple weeks, but I have not been able to write my thoughts on the matter all that well. Nevertheless, I think it's time to try. As most of you know, I adhere to the holiness doctrine. I believe it is not only possible for a Christian to no longer sin, this sinless behavior is expected.

I will focus on one example.

I attended a Bible study for a short while during the summer session at Clemson. I was delighted one evening to hear the speaker say that Christians did not have to sin. She (we won't discuss appropriateness of this) said that, when those who called themselves Christians did not have lives that were changed-- that is, they kept on doing the sinful things they used to do-- there was something terribly wrong. At one point she said she was holy.

But then, only a week later, the same person said that repentance was a daily thing. Every day she had to repent of sinful thoughts and actions.

Problem: If one repents, he does not return to the former way of living. Repentance involves changing one's mind. It is more than feeling sorry for what one has done.

Another problem: How can one be holy and yet sin? The two don't go together. Is it possible to be holy? Of course. In fact, it's expected. John said that he who has been born of God does not sin. (1 John 5:18) Paul said that believers are not slaves to sin. Jesus said that those who love Him will keep His commandments. (John 14:15)

Does anyone else see the problem? These people were being told one thing one day and the opposite the next. How would anyone know what to believe in this situation? And does the same thing happen in other groups, other churches?

Consistency would be nice.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Groundbreaking Ceremony

Friday morning I attended the groundbreaking ceremony for the Academic Success Center's (ASC)new building. The ASC is the campus organization that hires tutors and Supplemental Instruction leaders to help students in their work. SI is primarily for the freshman classes, but you'll find tutors for any subject as soon as three people request it.

A few years ago, the Class of 1956 was deciding on a project that would benefit the campus in some way. I found out that they had been considering 19 other projects, but they ultimately chose to help the ASC. In a matter of a few years, the twenty-two leaders selected by the class managed to raise nearly $3 million.

And Friday made it official.

Of course, the ceremony is merely symbolic. But I'm sure the class members could not help but feel a thrill when their spades pierced the earth. I do not know how many will be alive when the building is complete. I don't even know how long it will take. But I do hope that at least some of them can see the finished product.

Later in the day, Michael McLeod, my supervisor, told me that he wishes the new building to be to academics what the football stadium is to athletics. Who was I to disagree? I also want to see a campus focused more on academics.


The Clemson Tiger Cub listens to the speaker...I think.


President Barker gave a few remarks.


Breaking ground.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Stories

Today I finished Resolutions, which was the follow-up to Repercussions. Combined (since they tell one story), it's just over 100,000 words long! That makes it my largest project to date, easily. Of course, DC and its storyline will surpass even that.

Here's a list of my projects so far. Complete works are in italics, bold works are future projects, and current ones have no special designation. :P

The Dragon Conspirators
Dragon's Return
Unnamed Book Three (?)
Repercussions
Resolutions
Footsteps of the Prophet (possible title)
Special Project (March/April 2008)

And a few other ideas that I'm thinking about. This should be enough to last me for a while, though.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Untitled Story

I started this story around Christmas and put it down, only to finish it around 1:00 last night. (You'd have to be a writer to understand that last bit.) It's on DIOM, but I'll post it here for easier access.

Timothy wiped the rim of his earthen mug and wished he hadn’t. Thick brown grime coated his index finger. Sighing, he brushed his finger on his faded brown pants and brought the mug to his lips.

Warm, oily liquid filled his mouth. A bitter taste coated his tongue, but he swallowed, willing his stomach to hold its contents. Timothy licked the film from his teeth and set the vessel on the worn wooden table, shoving it away. A wave of water heaved over the top and spattered onto the table, filling in the many zigzagging cracks on the surface.

The tavern door opened, sending a gust of wind into the room. Timothy wrapped his shawl more tightly about himself and studied the newcomer.

Tall, an impressive build. Muscles bulged underneath a too-tight leather vest. The man’s chiseled torso left no doubt; the man knew how to show off. Thick arms swayed at his side, brown hair just beginning to bristle. A man in the prime of youth. Timothy frowned at the man’s face. Bright eyes hid under bushy eyebrows, and his thin lips stretched tight. He carried himself with authority. Timothy squinted. False, he assumed.

“Bartender, give me the strongest drink you got!” The youth’s rich baritone drowned out the myriad bawdy conversations being carried out in the room. Two score voices hushed and almost twice as many eyes (some patrons didn’t have a pair) turned his way. He strutted to a table occupied by three middle-aged men and winked. “Can I sit here?”

The one nearest him, who wore a hooded cape, shrugged and scratched his graying goatee. “Sure.” He kicked out a chair. “Sit.” The newcomer thanked him and settled in. “So what brings you out here?” the man asked. “Don’t get a lot of strangers in these parts, just you and that old man there tonight.” Timothy scowled and took another sip. Water dripped onto his meager beard. “Guess you’re just passing through?”

The youth nodded. “Yeah.” A matronly woman plopped a mug down. “Thank you,” he said, bringing it to his mouth. Timothy watched with interest. The youth’s eyes bulged, but he downed it. He exhaled. “Ah! That’s good.” He propped his elbows on the table and looked around. “I slayed a dragon.”

Timothy choked. He reached down to the floor and picked up his old gray walking staff, then he stood it upright. The thud it made when it hit the floor could be heard, the tavern had grown so silent.

“Yew didn’t kill no dragon!” A gap-toothed farmer stood and pointed a shaky finger at the youth. Drunk. “Y’ain’t got no sword!”

The main grinned and dismissed the complaint. “Rest assured, I did. What, did you think I would bring my equipment with me?” The farmer didn’t move for a moment, then shook his head stupidly. “Old Drake? Yep, my best sword is stuck in his flank.”

“Ye’re joshin’ us. Ain’t no way ye killed Drake!”

Timothy’s staff pounded the floor with every step. “Slew a dragon, eh?” He put his weight on the rod and slouched. “Do tell. What did he say to you?”

“Aw, don’t encourage ‘im!” the first man said.

Timothy did not acknowledge him. “Well? He spoke to you, I am sure of it. They often do, even the corrupted ones—before they kill you.”

The youth smirked. “Drake didn’t even put up a fight. ‘Matt!’ he said. Surprising enough that he seemed excited to see me, doubly so when he spoke my name.”

A splinter dug into Timothy’s palm, but he did not flinch. “He gave your name?” He placed equal emphasis on each word. Someone sniggered. “What else did he say?”

Matt waved his hand. “Oh, some nonsense about being chosen for this-or-that task. Didn’t make sense.”

Timothy raised his staff and swung it. The rod hit Matt’s head with a mild crack! Not enough to hurt, but it got his attention.

Matt rubbed the point of impact. What was that for, old man? You itching for a fight or something?” He rose from his chair.

“You fool!” Timothy forced him down again. “You do not even realize what you have done!”

Matt crossed his arms over his chest. “Amuse me,” he said, a defiant glint in his eye. His cheek had begun to swell.

“Drake was never a threat to anyone. He is still pure!” Timothy stamped his foot in frustration. “He is a farmer!”

“Shut up, old timer!” A drunk in the corner sneered. “We didn’t come to hear no wives fables.”

Timothy pointed his index finger at Matt and ground his teeth. “You listen. My words may have passed from the popular scene, yet truth remains. He Chose you as his own. He likes you!”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Drake likes me? What did I do to him?” Timothy knew the youth mocked him, but he said nothing.

Timothy’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Was he dead when you left?”

“Well, ye-yes, of course!’ Matt glanced at the quasi attentive men surrounding him. Timothy raised his staff in warning. Matt shook his head. “No. No, he wasn’t. Close, but not dead.”

“Then there’s still time.” Timothy scowled at the youth one last time, then he hurried out the door.

***
All the locals knew Drake made a temporary home in the cleft between two house-sized boulders. Timothy stumbled to the entrance and called out. “Drake!” A low, mournful note shook pebbles loose from their perch above Timothy’s head. “Are you well?” He rushed into the cave, confident the fire-breathing reptile would not attempt to harm him. “Drake, I heard what happened. Please, answer me!”

“Who speaks?” The sound of the dragon’s voice shook the man to his bones. Deep and powerful, yet sad, as well.

“A friend. I should be in the main chamber in a moment.” On cue, Timothy stepped into the dragon’s sanctuary. He gasped at the sight before him. “A sleek green dragon fully ten cubits in length gazed at him, eyes unblinking. Yellow irises shone, illuminating rounded pupils.

The dragon’s forked tongue sampled the air. “I do not know you.”

“I am Timothy, noble drake.” Timothy bowed as he spoke. “The sword, does it still...?” Drake lifted his head and looked to a corner. A blood-stained sword reflected the light emanating from the dragon. Timothy took a step closer. “Are you badly hurt?”

Drake sang the same mournful note that Timothy had heard only moments before. “I am well in body, though I fear my heart has suffered a mortal wound.” The dragon stood and limped to the human. “Why, Timothy?” the dragon asked. “What drove my beloved to act in wanton violence toward me?” When the dragon sighed, a flurry of wayward sparks drifted to the rocky floor.

Drake was an arm’s length away, now. A tear trickled down Timothy’s cheek and nestled in his beard. “I cannot say. Matt does not know the legends. Or rather, he learned the wrong ones.”

Anger seeped into the dragon’s voice. “My corrupted brethren have destroyed the fair reputation once bestowed upon us. Their stories have tickled Matt’s ear, you say?” Drake bowed his head. “Then I mourn for him all the more.”

Timothy stroked the fine dragon’s smooth scales, running his fingers along the ridges between the armored plates. Pure dragons had always been this trusting of another, so spoke the old stories. Drake would not harm him; indeed, the thought would likely never cross his mind. “I am glad the stroke did not cause undue harm.”

Drake’s ears perked up. “Silence!” he commanded. “The lad comes.”

Timothy bowed to the dragon and moved to the wall of the cave, hoping to blend into the darkness. The sword continued to reflect the light, a beacon in the opposite corner.

"Matt!" Drake bowed his head low. "You have returned." Excitement seemed to radiate from the dragon's body. Drake took a step forward. "I want to apologize for whatever it was I may have done to you. What?"

Matt rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Why do you mock me, dragon?" The creature backed away. "I came to kill you, yet you remain alive! And you know my name." Matt drew his sword and held it before him. "Now I'll finish the job."

"But Matt, I..." Drake's gaze flickered to Timothy. "I do not understand. What have I done to you? I have wished you no harm." Timothy wanted to call out, to help, but he knew to do so would be wrong. It was rude enough to listen to the conversation.

"There was an old man at the tavern. Because of him I'll be a laughingstock if I do not return with your head." He glanced toward Timothy but saw nothing. "Tell me why you should live."

Drake had not heard. His thoughts were turned inward. "I Chose you," he mumbled. "I swore on that day to ensure your happiness." Sparks littered the floor, and Matt jumped back. "Does this mean I have failed?" Drake lowered himself to the ground. "Then kill me, for I have abandoned my oath."

Timothy blinked. He had not expected this!

Neither, apparently, had Matt. "This is trickery, I know it!" Matt breathed heavily but did not attack. Second thoughts?

The dragon moaned. "You are not happy, Matt? There is nothing I can do to restore some of the joy I sensed in you that day?"

Matt's sword arm lowered, as though the instrument had become heavier. Hope sparked in Timothy's heart. Perhaps he would leave! Then Matt's troubled expression changed to one of fierce determination. His arm found strength once more. Drake glanced at the youth for a moment before returning his gaze to the floor.

Timothy's jaw trembled. It was not his place to interfere, yet he could not bear to see the destruction of an innocent creature! Soul overcame mind. "Enough!" he shouted. Matt's sword clattered to the ground; he had dropped it in shock. Timothy's voice reverberated through the chamber, giving the impression of a giant speaking. The old man stepped from his hiding place. "Keep your hands where I can see them!" he barked. His staff tapped against the stone for each step he took. "I will not have you lay a hand on Drake."

The dragon sighed, his hot breath buffeting Matt. "Timothy, what is this you have done?"

Timothy bowed. "My apologies. I could not watch in silence while a fool slew you." He shook with rage. "And you, I hope, will not be foolish enough to die due to one child's ignorance!" He glared at Matt. "Should you kill this creature, I will hold you responsible for driving the most noble race to grace this earth to extinction!" He set his foot next to the sword and slid it away.

"What's it to you? I don't see what you have to lose."

Timothy swatted at Matt's leg. The youth jumped just in time. "Do you truly know nothing, boy? You owe your very existence to creatures such as he!" he said, jabbing his finger toward Drake. "What is more, he Chose you. Do you know what that means?" Matt shook his head. "I thought not. That is as close to a statement of servitude as one of his stature can get!"

Matt laughed. "You mean he would do whatever I told him? You are a lunatic."

"I said servitude, not slavery. And do not speak!" he snapped at Drake. "This is no longer your concern." Timothy stooped and picked up the sword. "A nice blade," he said as he tested it. He presented it to Matt. "Take it. Good. Now I want you to do something for him."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Will it make you leave?"

"Yes. Now. I want you to look Drake in the eye and say, 'I am honored that you Chose me, yet I humbly ask that you seek someone of greater worth than I.'"

"Like you."

"Just do it."

Matt sighed, shook his head, and spoke: "I am honored that you Chose me, yet I humbly ask that you seek someone of greater worth than I."

Timothy nodded once. "Good. Drake, you are no longer bound by oath to this buffoon." He pointed with his staff. "And you, young man, should leave. Drake now is under no obligation to keep you alive."

"But--!"

Timothy arched his eyebrows. "You want to risk it? You are a fool."

Matt sheathed his sword. "Fine. You win." He pointed at the dragon. "But I will get you one day!" Timothy watched him leave the chamber and listened until the echoes ceased.

"There we are. And look, he left his sword. I am sure you can pawn it, Drake." The dragon stared at the entryway. "Drake. He is gone. And by his own words, he is no longer chosen by you."

"I suppose. Timothy, will I find someone else?"

Timothy shrugged. "Perhaps. But you may want to educate the next one first. Speaking of, I take it he was your first?"

Drake's ears pinned back in embarrassment. "It was. I will know better next time."

"There will be a next time, good. Do not be intimidated by this one mistake. And now I should be going. You are certain you will not suffer further physical injury?"

"Yes. Thank you." Timothy hobbled to the exit. "And Timothy, when will you clothe yourself in scales once more?"

Timothy pondered this for a moment. "In time. It is easier to spread the truth about us in this form." He snapped his fingers. "Oh, and one more thing. You should probably consider leaving soon in case Matt returns. Humans are predictable that way."

"Yes, Timothy, I will." The dragon bowed. "Thank you."