Nightmare's Edge, the third and final book in the Echoes from the Edge trilogy, will be released in May 2009. A trailer for the series has been made to help promote the book:
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Untitled Poem
This poem was written a few weeks ago, but it wasn't until another poem was written and the two were consolidated that it was presentable. It's not titled yet, so I'll welcome any suggestions.
They dwell in shadow, gloom and dusk,
Find shelter in the night,
And burrow in the deepest pits,
Embracing darkness, shunning light.
While dressed in soiled robes they sing,
Ignoring scarlet stains.
Deceived by demons’ soothing words
They do not see their iron chains.
These squatters in the house of God
Have learned the phrase to sell.
With poisoned words they tickle ears
And coax the seekers into hell.
“God will forgive,” the oft-used cry
Recited by each man.
“I know I stumble, but I try!
God loves me just the way I am.”
“I’m covered by His blood,” they say,
But will God hide His face
From wicked deeds of faithless men?
Will He spare “sinners saved by grace”?
The Lord in Heaven sends His saints
To walk upon the earth
Instructing them to light the way
Escaping darkness, a new birth.
Declaring holiness they come,
“Repent!” is their decree.
The sinners screech, prepare to fight
A battle ‘twixt the slave and free.
“You heretic!” The rally cry.
“Liar! Fraud! Apostate!”
The saints stand firm, their Lord protects
From cornered sinners’ deeds of hate.
We will press on; the time is short,
Unless the Lord delay
And choose to rescue one last soul
Before that blessed eternal Day.
They dwell in shadow, gloom and dusk,
Find shelter in the night,
And burrow in the deepest pits,
Embracing darkness, shunning light.
While dressed in soiled robes they sing,
Ignoring scarlet stains.
Deceived by demons’ soothing words
They do not see their iron chains.
These squatters in the house of God
Have learned the phrase to sell.
With poisoned words they tickle ears
And coax the seekers into hell.
“God will forgive,” the oft-used cry
Recited by each man.
“I know I stumble, but I try!
God loves me just the way I am.”
“I’m covered by His blood,” they say,
But will God hide His face
From wicked deeds of faithless men?
Will He spare “sinners saved by grace”?
The Lord in Heaven sends His saints
To walk upon the earth
Instructing them to light the way
Escaping darkness, a new birth.
Declaring holiness they come,
“Repent!” is their decree.
The sinners screech, prepare to fight
A battle ‘twixt the slave and free.
“You heretic!” The rally cry.
“Liar! Fraud! Apostate!”
The saints stand firm, their Lord protects
From cornered sinners’ deeds of hate.
We will press on; the time is short,
Unless the Lord delay
And choose to rescue one last soul
Before that blessed eternal Day.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Last of the Nephilim
The most powerful of all the Nephilim rises from the dead, but whose side will he be on?
That is the question that is posed to the reader on the back of the book. (At least in the first edition. The recap was changed for the second printing, and perhaps this also changed.) What’s puzzling is that, once we meet this Naphil again, the question of his loyalty is never addressed.
Last of the Nephilim is one of those books that, on first read, appears to be weak. It struck me as a place-holder between the wonder that was Enoch’s Ghost and the sure-to-please finale, The Bones of Makaidos. Part of what irritated me in the first read-through was that I felt cheated. One of the major events in Tears of a Dragon, book four of Dragons in our Midst, was that the dragons and anthrozils had the opportunity to lose their dragon essence, and with the exception of at least two, all did so. In this book, several of the characters regain their dragon traits.
At least, I felt this way after the first reading. I have read it twice since then, and now I think I must not have been thinking straight. This book is far more than a place-holder; it is a fascinating adventure filled with conflicts between good and evil.
In my post on book two, Enoch’s Ghost, I focused on one particular theme of the book. With Last of the Nephilim I found this harder to do. There is so much packed into this novel that there is no way I can begin to address it.
I suppose I shall begin with one conversation from this book that caught my interest each time. Ashley, Walter, Abigail and Thigocia have arrived in the Bridgelands and are told by Glewlwyd that they must cross the bridge – the one Elam crossed in Enoch’s Ghost. (Eventually they arrive in Second Eden.) The bridge represents faith. When Elam trusted in the bridge, when he crawled and held as tightly to it as possible, the bridge did not let him fall. But when he counted on his own ability to cross the bridge, the planks were liable to give way. In the passage I quote below, Glewlwyd is the first speaker.
It should be fairly obvious what doctrine has been addressed here. Mr. Davis has raised the question of whether or not it is possible for a Christian to lose his salvation (jumping to one’s death into a bottomless chasm), but he makes no attempt to answer it. He leaves it to the readers to think about and draw their own conclusions. Ultimately, though, the question of whether or not a person can jump is irrelevant. The point is that if a Christian has faith, then God will not let him go.
What appears to me to be the initial and most important conflict in Last of the Nephilim is something that is so commonplace in our reality that the average person would think nothing of it. Angel, one of the inhabitants of Second Eden, is trying to sort her thoughts together after losing the man she thought could be her Adam. A deceiver takes advantage of her and plants a seed of doubt in her mind. The deceiver tries (successfully) to persuade her to change a word in a song that Paili is supposed to sing, asking Angel to use the excuse that Enoch commanded it – an obvious lie.
This would not be Second Eden’s first rebellion. We learn in this book about a man known as Flint, one of Abraham’s students and someone who was very close to the Prophet. He grew prideful and rebellious, and when he openly went against Abraham’s authority, Abraham had no choice but to pronounce one of two sentences: either be exiled or be put to death by stoning. Flint had the option to choose either one, and he chose exile.
This rebellion introduced evil into Second Eden. While the proper human inhabitants did not lose their innocence because of this act, Flint’s rebellion catalyzed a change in the landscape. Some animals became fierce, and the altered tribes appeared.
Abraham knows that another act – a lie – would permit even more evil to enter his realm, and he does not want this to happen.
Angel’s lie creates the point of highest tension in the book. With this false word the Nephilim are able to swarm upon Second Eden, launching a memorable battle between good and evil that includes the regeneration of several dragons.
Then, in a moment which echoes a pivotal scene in Enoch’s Ghost, Abraham has to sentence Angel. That is all I wish to say on that matter.
By the end of the novel, the characters are being drawn to Second Eden. Billy and his father enter early on and are two of the regenerated dragons, and two other dragons join them. The rest are in hiding or gearing up for the ultimate battle which is sure to come in The Bones of Makaidos.
One thing in particular I liked about this book is that we are introduced to an “altered tribe” we can associate with. The shadow people were little more than shells of men, incapable of being understood. Greevelow, Mantika, and Windor are a family introduced in this book, and, while their kind appeared in Second Eden as a result of sin (I assume they are in fact "altered"), they should not be understood as the inhuman monsters that were the shadow people. This is a group that can interact with Abraham’s people, even to the point of raising orphaned children.
Last of the Nephilim is one of those books that I will re-read many more times and not grow tired of it. I strongly recommend it.
That is the question that is posed to the reader on the back of the book. (At least in the first edition. The recap was changed for the second printing, and perhaps this also changed.) What’s puzzling is that, once we meet this Naphil again, the question of his loyalty is never addressed.
Last of the Nephilim is one of those books that, on first read, appears to be weak. It struck me as a place-holder between the wonder that was Enoch’s Ghost and the sure-to-please finale, The Bones of Makaidos. Part of what irritated me in the first read-through was that I felt cheated. One of the major events in Tears of a Dragon, book four of Dragons in our Midst, was that the dragons and anthrozils had the opportunity to lose their dragon essence, and with the exception of at least two, all did so. In this book, several of the characters regain their dragon traits.
At least, I felt this way after the first reading. I have read it twice since then, and now I think I must not have been thinking straight. This book is far more than a place-holder; it is a fascinating adventure filled with conflicts between good and evil.
In my post on book two, Enoch’s Ghost, I focused on one particular theme of the book. With Last of the Nephilim I found this harder to do. There is so much packed into this novel that there is no way I can begin to address it.
I suppose I shall begin with one conversation from this book that caught my interest each time. Ashley, Walter, Abigail and Thigocia have arrived in the Bridgelands and are told by Glewlwyd that they must cross the bridge – the one Elam crossed in Enoch’s Ghost. (Eventually they arrive in Second Eden.) The bridge represents faith. When Elam trusted in the bridge, when he crawled and held as tightly to it as possible, the bridge did not let him fall. But when he counted on his own ability to cross the bridge, the planks were liable to give way. In the passage I quote below, Glewlwyd is the first speaker.
“The bridge, however, will never let you fall as long as you are a follower of Christ.”
“Even if you jump?” Ashley asked.
A sad frown wilted the old man’s face. “I have no answer for that. I cannot imagine anyone wanting to leap into the chasm.”
“Just asking. I’m an analyst, so it’s hard to imagine a bridge having a will of its own. It really can’t keep you on it if you don’t want to be there.”
“I will not argue the point, young lady, but again I warn you to beware of assumptions that arise from your earthly understandings. Perhaps the bridge would allow an insane fellow to leap from its grasp. I cannot say … But as long as you hold on with all your might, the bridge will never let you fall.”
It should be fairly obvious what doctrine has been addressed here. Mr. Davis has raised the question of whether or not it is possible for a Christian to lose his salvation (jumping to one’s death into a bottomless chasm), but he makes no attempt to answer it. He leaves it to the readers to think about and draw their own conclusions. Ultimately, though, the question of whether or not a person can jump is irrelevant. The point is that if a Christian has faith, then God will not let him go.
What appears to me to be the initial and most important conflict in Last of the Nephilim is something that is so commonplace in our reality that the average person would think nothing of it. Angel, one of the inhabitants of Second Eden, is trying to sort her thoughts together after losing the man she thought could be her Adam. A deceiver takes advantage of her and plants a seed of doubt in her mind. The deceiver tries (successfully) to persuade her to change a word in a song that Paili is supposed to sing, asking Angel to use the excuse that Enoch commanded it – an obvious lie.
This would not be Second Eden’s first rebellion. We learn in this book about a man known as Flint, one of Abraham’s students and someone who was very close to the Prophet. He grew prideful and rebellious, and when he openly went against Abraham’s authority, Abraham had no choice but to pronounce one of two sentences: either be exiled or be put to death by stoning. Flint had the option to choose either one, and he chose exile.
This rebellion introduced evil into Second Eden. While the proper human inhabitants did not lose their innocence because of this act, Flint’s rebellion catalyzed a change in the landscape. Some animals became fierce, and the altered tribes appeared.
Abraham knows that another act – a lie – would permit even more evil to enter his realm, and he does not want this to happen.
Angel’s lie creates the point of highest tension in the book. With this false word the Nephilim are able to swarm upon Second Eden, launching a memorable battle between good and evil that includes the regeneration of several dragons.
Then, in a moment which echoes a pivotal scene in Enoch’s Ghost, Abraham has to sentence Angel. That is all I wish to say on that matter.
By the end of the novel, the characters are being drawn to Second Eden. Billy and his father enter early on and are two of the regenerated dragons, and two other dragons join them. The rest are in hiding or gearing up for the ultimate battle which is sure to come in The Bones of Makaidos.
One thing in particular I liked about this book is that we are introduced to an “altered tribe” we can associate with. The shadow people were little more than shells of men, incapable of being understood. Greevelow, Mantika, and Windor are a family introduced in this book, and, while their kind appeared in Second Eden as a result of sin (I assume they are in fact "altered"), they should not be understood as the inhuman monsters that were the shadow people. This is a group that can interact with Abraham’s people, even to the point of raising orphaned children.
Last of the Nephilim is one of those books that I will re-read many more times and not grow tired of it. I strongly recommend it.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Midterms are Nearing - Update
It seems as though the semester just started, but we're already halfway through it, give or take a week. Classes have been going well, for the most part. Mass Transfer/Separations and Biochem are the most challenging, for sure.
My World Religions project topic is the creation myths of three different religious traditions (Norse, Cherokee, Shinto). Not entirely sure what information is going to be presented, but I have an idea of what I want.
Also need to work on reviews for Last of the Nephilim, Beyond the Reflection's Edge, and Eternity's Edge. Probably the review for BtRE will be based on the short review I wrote over a year ago. We'll see. They might not be quite as detailed as the one for Enoch's Ghost, as well.
Furry Weekend Atlanta is in three weeks. It will be my first convention. Looking forward to that and meeting people I've talked to on various forums.
My World Religions project topic is the creation myths of three different religious traditions (Norse, Cherokee, Shinto). Not entirely sure what information is going to be presented, but I have an idea of what I want.
Also need to work on reviews for Last of the Nephilim, Beyond the Reflection's Edge, and Eternity's Edge. Probably the review for BtRE will be based on the short review I wrote over a year ago. We'll see. They might not be quite as detailed as the one for Enoch's Ghost, as well.
Furry Weekend Atlanta is in three weeks. It will be my first convention. Looking forward to that and meeting people I've talked to on various forums.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
To be an Oracle
Recently Mr. Davis posted a new blog entry about what it means to be an Oracle of Fire. The term “Oracle of Fire” comes from his book series by the same name, which is a spin-off of the Dragons in our Midst series. When he began the series, he did not know for certain what the term meant, although the dedication page of Eye of the Oracle suggests he may have had something in mind from the beginning.
He provides a newer definition from his to-be-released book The Bones of Makaidos, in which a character states that an Oracle is someone who will “Speak the truth. Live the truth. Be the truth.” I will not post any more on this blog, but those who are interested can go to his Issues Blog and read more about it.
So why do I post this?
It is because I cannot keep silent about the deception in this world. God has put a fire in my heart that cannot be quenched, and my efforts to not speak all fail. Even in the face of adversity from without the church and even from within, God has called me to be a light in the darkness.
This calling can take on more than one form. To the United States, I must plead with the people to return to the One whom they claim to serve. A people who at one second pray and proclaim, “God bless America!” or “In God we trust” when a second later they applaud debauchery and the murder of countless innocents.
And in the church, we face those who would say that God will look away from any sins we commit. We are forgiven, and when we sin God sees the imputed righteousness of Jesus. What slander! To think that God will excuse sin. Will God be deceived? Will he allow these pretenders dressed in filthy robes to enter His kingdom? Certainly not. Some have said that the obedient are bastard sons, because they have no sins to confess. At the same time, the ones who call on God’s name and simultaneously admit to sinning daily are the sons of God? The Lord Himself states that those who commit sin are slaves to sin, not sons of God. We must warn them and lead them to the truth.
God, let me take a stand against this deception. Give me Your message, and speak through my imperfect lips. Everything I have, everything I am is Yours. Let me be a light guiding the blind to You. In opposition, be my comfort. In times of trial, be my strength.
Let me be an Oracle of Fire.
Edit: I will probably not be accepting anonymous comments from this point on. If you would like to comment and don't have an account here, post some sort of identifier (real name, username, something like that) with your comment. Thank you.
He provides a newer definition from his to-be-released book The Bones of Makaidos, in which a character states that an Oracle is someone who will “Speak the truth. Live the truth. Be the truth.” I will not post any more on this blog, but those who are interested can go to his Issues Blog and read more about it.
So why do I post this?
It is because I cannot keep silent about the deception in this world. God has put a fire in my heart that cannot be quenched, and my efforts to not speak all fail. Even in the face of adversity from without the church and even from within, God has called me to be a light in the darkness.
This calling can take on more than one form. To the United States, I must plead with the people to return to the One whom they claim to serve. A people who at one second pray and proclaim, “God bless America!” or “In God we trust” when a second later they applaud debauchery and the murder of countless innocents.
And in the church, we face those who would say that God will look away from any sins we commit. We are forgiven, and when we sin God sees the imputed righteousness of Jesus. What slander! To think that God will excuse sin. Will God be deceived? Will he allow these pretenders dressed in filthy robes to enter His kingdom? Certainly not. Some have said that the obedient are bastard sons, because they have no sins to confess. At the same time, the ones who call on God’s name and simultaneously admit to sinning daily are the sons of God? The Lord Himself states that those who commit sin are slaves to sin, not sons of God. We must warn them and lead them to the truth.
God, let me take a stand against this deception. Give me Your message, and speak through my imperfect lips. Everything I have, everything I am is Yours. Let me be a light guiding the blind to You. In opposition, be my comfort. In times of trial, be my strength.
Let me be an Oracle of Fire.
Edit: I will probably not be accepting anonymous comments from this point on. If you would like to comment and don't have an account here, post some sort of identifier (real name, username, something like that) with your comment. Thank you.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Song of the Saints
This came to mind mind yesterday. I'm still pondering some of the verses.
We warn you, but you do not listen.
We pray for you, that you may be free.
We cry to you, who grope in darkness.
We show you what is life, you slay us.
A call to live, a call to die,
Sends evil ones to flight.
A call to weep, a call to laugh,
Reflects God's holy light.
We shall serve Him, our Adonai
The Maker of all things,
While those who hide their rotten hearts
Deny the King of Kings.
The Lord declares, the saints repeat
The way that sets man free.
And one by one they come to Him,
These blind who now can see.
At last! Our Maker who reigns on high
Who brings the wandering children home
Calls out to us, bearers of His name,
And declares to us eternal joy!
We warn you, but you do not listen.
We pray for you, that you may be free.
We cry to you, who grope in darkness.
We show you what is life, you slay us.
A call to live, a call to die,
Sends evil ones to flight.
A call to weep, a call to laugh,
Reflects God's holy light.
We shall serve Him, our Adonai
The Maker of all things,
While those who hide their rotten hearts
Deny the King of Kings.
The Lord declares, the saints repeat
The way that sets man free.
And one by one they come to Him,
These blind who now can see.
At last! Our Maker who reigns on high
Who brings the wandering children home
Calls out to us, bearers of His name,
And declares to us eternal joy!
Monday, January 19, 2009
Review--Enoch's Ghost
Enoch’s Ghost, the second book in the Oracles of Fire series, picks up the exciting Dragons in our Midst story where Tears of a Dragon and Eye of the Oracle ended.
It is a complex book, having at least three distinct plots. Ashley, Walter and Karen meet up with Sapphira in the combined Earth/Hades dimension, and they work together to stop the evil Mardon before he can merge Heaven with Earth with his version of the Tower of Babel. Elam navigates the Bridgelands, following Merlin’s request for him to find Heaven’s Altar; in the journey he is tested by the horse Dikaios. In a land called Second Eden, Timothy awakens and learns of a prophecy that will bring deliverance, but it will come at a high price.
Condensing the entire book into one paragraph does not do it justice, but I don’t think any of you actually want a full-length synopsis of the story.
Enoch’s Ghost is without a doubt my favorite of all the DIOM and OOF books written to date. Mr. Davis sends the reader on an emotional roller coaster ride reaching from the shores of the Lake of Fire to the altar of Heaven. And as expected from so talented a writer, he fills the pages with refreshing truths.
Walter’s visit to the Lake of Fire (chapter 11) is perhaps the most disturbing scene I have read in a long time. Mr. Davis makes it clear that the condemned souls deserve to be there, but he does not do so in such a way that there is any risk of a believer’s ego being inflated. When Walter realizes what he is seeing, he very nearly has a breakdown. As the angel present states, “…[A]ll men of compassion become [ill] when they consider the destiny of the unrighteous.” In this chapter, Mr. Davis stresses the importance of evangelism, but he rightly states that the fear of hell should not be used as a means of persuasion. Such tactics may drive the sinner further from the love of God.
But on the other side, as far from the Lake of Fire as you can get, there is a moment of great joy. Naamah, Morgan’s accomplice in DIOM, encounters Elam in the Bridgelands. As it turns out, she never died even though she was stabbed by Jared in Tears of a Dragon. When we see her, she has been humiliated by a perverted wanderer of the Bridgelands. Elam covers her with his cloak and allows her to accompany him and Dikaios, but on the way Naamah very nearly takes Elam’s life. Dikaios tries to persuade Elam to kill Naamah, but when Naamah pleads for forgiveness he shows mercy. Naamah hesitates to continue the journey, but Elam stands and waits for her:
This is a turning point in the story. If anyone deserves to be cast aside, Naamah does. She killed Billy and willingly worked with Morgan. But Elam does not forsake her. He sees a broken, repentant heart and is moved to show mercy. He serves as a perfect example of how the Christ-follower should behave. We should not see the sinner and let them rot in despair. No, we reach out to them, show them the love that burns within us, so they may see our Savior and be set free.
But it is when they reach Heaven’s Shield that the celebration can begin:
You can probably imagine why I like this scene so much. Naamah, the harlot who did her sister’s bidding, was the last person the reader would expect to see become a new creation. Yet she is forgiven, and set free! She sings a new song, which I will not quote here except for the last two lines. “Forever bound unto my Lord, I cast aside the devil’s chains!” I came close to jumping up and down in delight, but I’m a rather subdued individual and that did not happen. But how wonderful is that? All believers can make her claim, that they are now bound to God and have cast aside the chains that bind them in sin.
And there is something else Mr. Davis made sure to mention. It is not through our own efforts that we are saved, but only through the blood of Jesus. Could the blood on their palms have belonged to anyone else? I would say not.
There is so much more that could be said about this wonderful book, but no time to speak it all. I encourage each of you who reads this blog to purchase this or any of the other Dragons in our Midst or Oracles of Fire books.
It is a complex book, having at least three distinct plots. Ashley, Walter and Karen meet up with Sapphira in the combined Earth/Hades dimension, and they work together to stop the evil Mardon before he can merge Heaven with Earth with his version of the Tower of Babel. Elam navigates the Bridgelands, following Merlin’s request for him to find Heaven’s Altar; in the journey he is tested by the horse Dikaios. In a land called Second Eden, Timothy awakens and learns of a prophecy that will bring deliverance, but it will come at a high price.
Condensing the entire book into one paragraph does not do it justice, but I don’t think any of you actually want a full-length synopsis of the story.
Enoch’s Ghost is without a doubt my favorite of all the DIOM and OOF books written to date. Mr. Davis sends the reader on an emotional roller coaster ride reaching from the shores of the Lake of Fire to the altar of Heaven. And as expected from so talented a writer, he fills the pages with refreshing truths.
Walter’s visit to the Lake of Fire (chapter 11) is perhaps the most disturbing scene I have read in a long time. Mr. Davis makes it clear that the condemned souls deserve to be there, but he does not do so in such a way that there is any risk of a believer’s ego being inflated. When Walter realizes what he is seeing, he very nearly has a breakdown. As the angel present states, “…[A]ll men of compassion become [ill] when they consider the destiny of the unrighteous.” In this chapter, Mr. Davis stresses the importance of evangelism, but he rightly states that the fear of hell should not be used as a means of persuasion. Such tactics may drive the sinner further from the love of God.
But on the other side, as far from the Lake of Fire as you can get, there is a moment of great joy. Naamah, Morgan’s accomplice in DIOM, encounters Elam in the Bridgelands. As it turns out, she never died even though she was stabbed by Jared in Tears of a Dragon. When we see her, she has been humiliated by a perverted wanderer of the Bridgelands. Elam covers her with his cloak and allows her to accompany him and Dikaios, but on the way Naamah very nearly takes Elam’s life. Dikaios tries to persuade Elam to kill Naamah, but when Naamah pleads for forgiveness he shows mercy. Naamah hesitates to continue the journey, but Elam stands and waits for her:
Not wanting to turn to look, Elam pictured Naamah behind him, standing pitifully in the distance, watching her hand, waiting. But waiting for what? Elam opened his own hand and stared at his palm. Blistered and bloodied from hanging on to the bridge, dirty and grass-smeared from lying in the fields, his hand was no more majestic than any other. It was human—strong, real, the ultimate symbol of reaching out from one wanderer to another. Finally, it all made sense.
Slowly turning, Elam stretched out his arm and extended his open hand toward Naamah. She leaped forward and sprinted toward him, her bare legs and feet kicking up the hem of his cloak. When she reached the hill, she dashed up the slope and dropped to her knees. She grabbed his hand and kissed his palm, crying, “You won’t regret this, Elam. I promise, you won’t regret your mercy.”
He raised her to her feet and looked into her teary eyes, speaking softly. “To be wanted and not lusted for. To be loved and not pitied. To be asked and not commanded.” After passing a hand over her bedraggled hair, he slipped it into hers, touching their palms together. “Is that right?”
As her cheeks flushed, a shy smile emerged. In contrast to her red face, her white teeth dazzled, but now her fangs were gone. “And to be believed, even after all my lies.”
This is a turning point in the story. If anyone deserves to be cast aside, Naamah does. She killed Billy and willingly worked with Morgan. But Elam does not forsake her. He sees a broken, repentant heart and is moved to show mercy. He serves as a perfect example of how the Christ-follower should behave. We should not see the sinner and let them rot in despair. No, we reach out to them, show them the love that burns within us, so they may see our Savior and be set free.
But it is when they reach Heaven’s Shield that the celebration can begin:
Elam leaned toward the barrier. “So, how do we get in? I never found the scarlet key the gatekeeper told me I needed.”
Look at your hand. The key is already in your grasp.”
Elam opened his fingers and stared at his palm. “What do you mean? I’m not carrying anything.”
"Oh, but you are. You bear the marks of righteousness.”
Elam flexed his fingers. His hand ached, still oozing blood from the cuts and scrapes he earned on the bridge. “I think I see what you mean.”
Naamah reached forward and showed him her palm. “Mine is bloodstained, but the blood is not my own.”
“Nor does the blood on Elam’s palm belong to him” Dikaios bobbed his head at the horizon. “Touch the shield, both of you. The righteous may enter immediately, and the contrite may plead for a new heart.”
You can probably imagine why I like this scene so much. Naamah, the harlot who did her sister’s bidding, was the last person the reader would expect to see become a new creation. Yet she is forgiven, and set free! She sings a new song, which I will not quote here except for the last two lines. “Forever bound unto my Lord, I cast aside the devil’s chains!” I came close to jumping up and down in delight, but I’m a rather subdued individual and that did not happen. But how wonderful is that? All believers can make her claim, that they are now bound to God and have cast aside the chains that bind them in sin.
And there is something else Mr. Davis made sure to mention. It is not through our own efforts that we are saved, but only through the blood of Jesus. Could the blood on their palms have belonged to anyone else? I would say not.
There is so much more that could be said about this wonderful book, but no time to speak it all. I encourage each of you who reads this blog to purchase this or any of the other Dragons in our Midst or Oracles of Fire books.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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."
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."
Monday, October 29, 2007
Pictures
Um...this is a tad late...As most of you already know, I went to TDY's house a couple weeks ago. It was a lot of fun, but it was quite chilly.
Must warn you, though, that I don't have many pictures (as DIOMers can testify). So I'll give you two or three.
Here's TDY at his computer.--Oh, and TDY? How do you survive with that internet connection?
TDY's Dad
The best part of it being cold.--Guess before clicking!
Must warn you, though, that I don't have many pictures (as DIOMers can testify). So I'll give you two or three.
Here's TDY at his computer.--Oh, and TDY? How do you survive with that internet connection?
TDY's Dad
The best part of it being cold.--Guess before clicking!
Friday, October 12, 2007
Airport
I'm sitting in the Charlotte airport at the moment, waiting for my flight to Rhode Island. If all had gone the way it was originally planned, I would have been in the air a few minutes ago, but we can't always have things our way.
Oh, well.
My next post probably won't come until Monday evening or later. Y'all won't get pictures until a couple days after that, because I like to procrastinate when it comes to posting stuff. (There may be more pictures up on DIOM than on here. I don't know. We'll see.
)
Oh, well.
My next post probably won't come until Monday evening or later. Y'all won't get pictures until a couple days after that, because I like to procrastinate when it comes to posting stuff. (There may be more pictures up on DIOM than on here. I don't know. We'll see.
)
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Monday, September 03, 2007
Testimony
I've never done this before, so bear with me, please. 
As you may have seen, the idea of whether or not Christians sin is very important to me. But it wasn't always. For years (at home and in church), I was told that Christians would still sin now and again. It was okay, we all had a sin nature, and we weren't going to be freed from that until we went to heaven. I believed it, since I hadn't heard anything different.
Then, what is it, a year ago? Or longer, I can't remember. Anyway, a man whom I now consider to be my mentor and dear friend began to share his beliefs with me. He said that he hadn't sinned since he became a Christian, and that he didn't think Christians sinned. As you can imagine, I was put off by the whole thing. How dare he say I wasn't a Christian? Sure, he wouldn't go out and say it, but wasn't that what he was implying? It angered me, and for a while I dismissed what he said. Then when he brought it up again, I started looking in the Bible for myself, to show him where he was wrong. I knew I was a Christian, and I still sinned! Same with many people I knew!
But the expected didn't happen. The more I searched the Scriptures, I found in me a small, gentle push to listen to this new, ridiculous (to me) doctrine. As time passed, I found myself thinking it would be nice if what he said were true, then wanting it to be true. Keep in mind I had no idea these changes were happening to me at the time; it wasn't until I looked back and saw that my mind had indeed changed. Then it came time for the ultimate step: would I accept the sinless Christian doctrine, or would I continue to resist it?
The answer was obvious. That day I fully embraced it and told God that my life was His--crucify this sinful flesh and make me a new creation! I didn't say it exactly like that, of course, but that's what I meant.
The next few days, oh! how I wish I could describe them. I felt different. Now, I'm not one to trust feelings, and I fully expected the feeling to pass, which it did eventually. But I knew something had changed in me. Paul said that believers are no longer slaves to sin. Jesus said that those He frees are free indeed. I didn't have to sin anymore! I was freed from the bondage of sin! What a joyous thought!
And then I started reading the Bible like never before. This isn't to say I read it more often, but that I read verses in a whole new light.
My views were quickly denounced by my family and friends, and they still don't agree with me. My parents hope that it's "just a phase," that in a few months I'll be back to normal. I just have to think this through, that's all. But they don't understand. God gave me a taste of a sinless life. He showed me that through His power indeed all things were possible. He promised that He would provide a way of escape in every temptation. How can I fall back? Why would I WANT to?
Now, it is not through my own efforts that I no longer sin. It is only God, who is abundant in grace, who saved me from sin! Some misunderstand, thinking that one has to keep his mind so focused on not sinning that he becomes preoccupied and becomes useless, not helping people in need, like we're supposed to. That is not the case! It does not take the forefront of my mind, it is not a conscious effort. Living right comes naturally! I am truly a new creation in Christ Jesus!
That said, can you not see why I have to talk about it? Too many people don't know the joy of being free, and I want desperately to show them! I know people will resist me, ridicule me and tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about. And several of these are pastors! It saddens me to see them like that.
As you may have seen, the idea of whether or not Christians sin is very important to me. But it wasn't always. For years (at home and in church), I was told that Christians would still sin now and again. It was okay, we all had a sin nature, and we weren't going to be freed from that until we went to heaven. I believed it, since I hadn't heard anything different.
Then, what is it, a year ago? Or longer, I can't remember. Anyway, a man whom I now consider to be my mentor and dear friend began to share his beliefs with me. He said that he hadn't sinned since he became a Christian, and that he didn't think Christians sinned. As you can imagine, I was put off by the whole thing. How dare he say I wasn't a Christian? Sure, he wouldn't go out and say it, but wasn't that what he was implying? It angered me, and for a while I dismissed what he said. Then when he brought it up again, I started looking in the Bible for myself, to show him where he was wrong. I knew I was a Christian, and I still sinned! Same with many people I knew!
But the expected didn't happen. The more I searched the Scriptures, I found in me a small, gentle push to listen to this new, ridiculous (to me) doctrine. As time passed, I found myself thinking it would be nice if what he said were true, then wanting it to be true. Keep in mind I had no idea these changes were happening to me at the time; it wasn't until I looked back and saw that my mind had indeed changed. Then it came time for the ultimate step: would I accept the sinless Christian doctrine, or would I continue to resist it?
The answer was obvious. That day I fully embraced it and told God that my life was His--crucify this sinful flesh and make me a new creation! I didn't say it exactly like that, of course, but that's what I meant.
The next few days, oh! how I wish I could describe them. I felt different. Now, I'm not one to trust feelings, and I fully expected the feeling to pass, which it did eventually. But I knew something had changed in me. Paul said that believers are no longer slaves to sin. Jesus said that those He frees are free indeed. I didn't have to sin anymore! I was freed from the bondage of sin! What a joyous thought!
And then I started reading the Bible like never before. This isn't to say I read it more often, but that I read verses in a whole new light.
My views were quickly denounced by my family and friends, and they still don't agree with me. My parents hope that it's "just a phase," that in a few months I'll be back to normal. I just have to think this through, that's all. But they don't understand. God gave me a taste of a sinless life. He showed me that through His power indeed all things were possible. He promised that He would provide a way of escape in every temptation. How can I fall back? Why would I WANT to?
Now, it is not through my own efforts that I no longer sin. It is only God, who is abundant in grace, who saved me from sin! Some misunderstand, thinking that one has to keep his mind so focused on not sinning that he becomes preoccupied and becomes useless, not helping people in need, like we're supposed to. That is not the case! It does not take the forefront of my mind, it is not a conscious effort. Living right comes naturally! I am truly a new creation in Christ Jesus!
That said, can you not see why I have to talk about it? Too many people don't know the joy of being free, and I want desperately to show them! I know people will resist me, ridicule me and tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about. And several of these are pastors! It saddens me to see them like that.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Original Sin
One of the most common beliefs in the church today is that people are born sinners. It started with Augustine, and John Calvin really helped to advance that theory. You can see it today in the TULIP acronym under “Total Depravity.”
The problem? That belief is completely, utterly wrong.
Let’s think about this. We know that Romans 3:23 says, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” That is one of the key verses advocates of this doctrine (known as original sin) use. And at face value, then yes, everyone who has ever lived has sinned. What they are doing, however is taking the verse out of context. Jesus is part of all, is He not? And He did not sin (Hebrews 4: 15). “But He doesn’t count!” my opponent says. “He was God!”
I’m not saying He wasn’t. But He was also fully man. Therefore, my opponent’s argument is severely weakened.
Another reason I cannot believe in original sin is this:
The Psalmist said God formed him in his mother’s womb (Ps. 139: 13). And since there is nothing that makes him special from any other man, it can be reasonably concluded that all people are created by God—this miracle begins at conception. (I’m not going to go into abortion here.) So if people are born sinners, what other choice do we have than to say that God created us sinners? But God cannot have anything to do with sin, so that poses a problem. Also, Genesis says we were created in God’s image (Gen. 1:26). God does not sin. He can be tempted (Deut. 6:16), but He cannot sin, as it goes against His nature. The original sin advocate is therefore forced to accept these two beliefs: “God created man in His image” and “Man is born a sinner.” These are contradictory. For if man is created in God’s image, and man is created a sinner, then God is a sinner. As stated, this is unbiblical. The more correct belief is this: “Man is born with the capacity to be tempted, and it is man’s choice whether or not he will sin.”
The doctrine of original sin also makes God a tyrant. If people are born sinners, and they are naturally inclined to sin, what right does God have to condemn them for the way He created them? He has none. So advocates of original sin have to come up with a way to decorate their cruel God with acts of love, saying that God, in His sovereignty, can act however He wishes. Which is true, but as God is also just, and condemnation of one who cannot help his actions is unjust, that claim falls flat.
Original sin advocates also say that Adam was some sort of figurehead for the entire human race, and since he sinned, we are all condemned as sinners because of that. What does the Bible say, though? Ezekiel 18: 20 says, “The son will not bear the punishment for the father's iniquity, nor will the father bear the punishment for the son's iniquity; the righteousness of the righteous will be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked will be upon himself.” In other words, we are all responsible for our own sin. Adam’s sin was Adam’s sin, not his descendants’. What Adam did, however, was open up the way for all to be tempted.
Before I go, I will include this last argument. If all are born sinners, then what of the babies who are stillborn, aborted, or die in infancy? The original sin advocate has no choice but to say that these must go to hell. They’re dishonest enough to come up with an excuse (age of accountability), but it’s a contradiction. Sinners, if they are not redeemed, must go to hell. The original sin position must include infants in this.
But infants do not sin. Those who have no knowledge of right or wrong cannot sin. They must be taught right and wrong, and before that time, they are innocent. It is when they are able to make a moral choice (“This is right and I will do it” or “This is wrong but I will do it”) that they are held accountable.
I cannot accept the doctrine of original sin. My sense of justice that God gave me recoils at such a thought.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Harry Potter (sorry--kind of a rant)
I picked up the last book, not with the eagerness some had, but not with a sense of dread, either. It was merely a book to read, something to pass the time.
So I was quite upset with the quotes at the very beginning of the book. In fact, I probably would have thrown the book against the wall, had I not been afraid it would have hurt the sheetrock. I looked at the quotes again, and I did not have that same reaction, but I still cannot help but feel disgust. And yes, most of the disgust is directed toward the “We sing to you/ dark gods beneath the earth” in the excerpt by Aeschylus. Frankly, anything that can be taken as a prayer to demons (which that displays) should make a Christian shudder, in my opinion.
But enough of that.
In this book, Harry is as far from a role model as one could be. This is clear in his exchange with the Dursleys. Now, I know some will say, “The Dursleys were awful to him. They deserve what happens to them.” Perhaps they do, perhaps they do not. But it does not excuse Harry from saying things like “Are you actually as stupid as you look?” to his uncle. By doing that, he makes himself no better than the others.
I could also mention the situation with Griphook. He manages to procure the goblin’s help through carefully choiced words and deceit. Griphook could have the sword after he helped them break into Gringotts, but he would not be told exactly when he could have it. It was a half-truth. In other words, it was a lie. And yes, I know Harry said he didn’t care much for the idea, but the fact remains that he did go through with it. That says much about his character.
But at the end, Rowling has the nerve to make him something of a Christ-figure. It’s not a direct allegory, but it is definitely hinted at. He goes willingly to his death, without a struggle, sacrificing himself to rid the world of the evil that is Voldemort. The thought of an unregenerate man taking on these aspects of Christ’s character disgusted me. And here’s why:
Harry is himself evil. Throughout the series, he lies, deceives, and threatens family. These are not the attributes of one who is good. Yet we are expected to cheer for him, the one who has wallowed in filth from the first book. I have heard one person complain about using the term “evil” to describe Harry, asking instead we choose “dishonest” or some other softer word. But I cannot. Our world is one of black and white, where you must be either good or evil. There are those who walk in the darkness, and those who walk in the light [1 Thessalonians 5:5, implied; and 1 John 2:10-11]. One whose actions fly against the will of God cannot be in the light, and as such has no business being treated as a hero.
Now that I have written this, I am going to remove the Harry Potter books from my shelf. And while I’m at it, Salvatore’s books can go, too (more on that later). C.S. Lewis’ and Bryan Davis’ books are much more filling.
So I was quite upset with the quotes at the very beginning of the book. In fact, I probably would have thrown the book against the wall, had I not been afraid it would have hurt the sheetrock. I looked at the quotes again, and I did not have that same reaction, but I still cannot help but feel disgust. And yes, most of the disgust is directed toward the “We sing to you/ dark gods beneath the earth” in the excerpt by Aeschylus. Frankly, anything that can be taken as a prayer to demons (which that displays) should make a Christian shudder, in my opinion.
But enough of that.
In this book, Harry is as far from a role model as one could be. This is clear in his exchange with the Dursleys. Now, I know some will say, “The Dursleys were awful to him. They deserve what happens to them.” Perhaps they do, perhaps they do not. But it does not excuse Harry from saying things like “Are you actually as stupid as you look?” to his uncle. By doing that, he makes himself no better than the others.
I could also mention the situation with Griphook. He manages to procure the goblin’s help through carefully choiced words and deceit. Griphook could have the sword after he helped them break into Gringotts, but he would not be told exactly when he could have it. It was a half-truth. In other words, it was a lie. And yes, I know Harry said he didn’t care much for the idea, but the fact remains that he did go through with it. That says much about his character.
But at the end, Rowling has the nerve to make him something of a Christ-figure. It’s not a direct allegory, but it is definitely hinted at. He goes willingly to his death, without a struggle, sacrificing himself to rid the world of the evil that is Voldemort. The thought of an unregenerate man taking on these aspects of Christ’s character disgusted me. And here’s why:
Harry is himself evil. Throughout the series, he lies, deceives, and threatens family. These are not the attributes of one who is good. Yet we are expected to cheer for him, the one who has wallowed in filth from the first book. I have heard one person complain about using the term “evil” to describe Harry, asking instead we choose “dishonest” or some other softer word. But I cannot. Our world is one of black and white, where you must be either good or evil. There are those who walk in the darkness, and those who walk in the light [1 Thessalonians 5:5, implied; and 1 John 2:10-11]. One whose actions fly against the will of God cannot be in the light, and as such has no business being treated as a hero.
Now that I have written this, I am going to remove the Harry Potter books from my shelf. And while I’m at it, Salvatore’s books can go, too (more on that later). C.S. Lewis’ and Bryan Davis’ books are much more filling.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Enan's Story
Okay, I enjoyed this story more. Let's see if it'll all fit. (Oh, and Enan, being Enan, doesn't always act the way he should.) Of course, the story makes more sense if you're familiar with the soap opera that is Ryu.
Enan threw the bag containing all his belongings down the side of the ravine and kept running. Letting them go hadn’t been his first choice, but it was a decision he realized he had to make; it slowed him down, and his pursuers did not seem all that interested in taking a break so the kitsune could gain a better lead. And with the unnecessary baggage out of the way, he could run much faster. Looking over it, there hadn’t been all that much there, anyway: just an extra change of clothes that he had with him at all times and more than a few rocks he had picked up while out to make a better wall for his shelter. The rocks had really slowed him down.
Enan knew this forest; he lived nearby, after all. He had spent a good part of his five centuries alive in the hundreds of acres that comprised these woods, and he knew everything there was to know about it. He scrambled across fallen tree trunks and bored his way through the undergrowth. For the second time that day he was thankful that he had splurged enough to purchase high-quality rubber-soled shoes in the town that one time he had been there. (The first was when he bolted across a beach coated with sharp shells and stones.) They served better than the worn moccasins he had worn for the past several years. While they were perfect for sneaking around unheard, they were not the best for running for one’s life, especially when the sole had been worn down so far there were holes in it.
He ignored the pain inflicted on him by the briars that lined the trail he was making up as he went along; they were nothing compared to what he had seen earlier.
“You are taking the proper arrangements?” Enan asked one of the town leaders, a kitsune with a weathered face and graying ears. The elder pulled an object from the folds of his burgundy robe and handed it to Enan.
“We’ve been training with these ever since the humans came,” he said. “Are you familiar with them?”
Enan held the L-shaped metal device in his palm. “Not really. What are they?” Then it clicked in his mind. “This is a human weapon! Where did you get it?”
“You of all people should know that we’re not the most passive of races.” The elder grinned. “We’ve been biding our time, that’s all.”
Enan shoved the weapon back into the elder’s hands and spat on the ground. “Biding your time while the rest of Ryu has gone to hell! Since when did we start caring about using their weapons?”
“About the time we got sick of our firefoxes being abused,” the leader replied. “Of course, there are those of us who would rather pamper our foxes than train them for war.”
“Shut up,” Enan said. He did not take kindly to insults about his firefox. His had never matured beyond the kit level, so while most self-proclaimed warriors had foxes that towered to four feet or more at the shoulder, he was stuck with a playful creature that would only pose a danger to those who dissolved in saliva. Cute, yes, but not the most effective.
A rumble filled his ears. He spun around, searching for the source of the noise. A glance at the elder told Enan that he had heard it, as well. “What is that?” His ears moved forward, and his tail twitched. He scraped the ground with his shoe, noticing that there were no shadows. He looked up. Cloudy. “Not thunder, is it?”
A foreign object appeared in the distance, flying closer. Several of them. “Gina! Teru! I want you to round up all our fighters and tell them to meet me in front of the city hall in the next ten minutes!” the elder shouted. A blond-haired and black-haired kitsune saluted before dashing in opposite directions. “Enan, get out of here.”
“What?”
“The rest of us will be moving underground before long. You’re not advanced enough to do any good.”
“Well thanks a lot.”
“The humans are surprisingly strong,” the elder rebuked. “You and your firefox would just get in the way.” With that, he summoned a four-foot-tall fox creature made of congealed flame and climbed on its back. “Take me to the square!” The fox growled its acknowledgment and raced to the center of town, leaving Enan behind.
“Leave? Yeah, right.” He summoned his firefox, only to have it yip with delight and run across the street. “Where are you going?” he asked. The kit returned with a bone, which it placed at Enan’s feet. “We’re not playing fetch right now.” The kit looked at him with a sparkle in its eye before snatching the bone and running off. It skidded to a stop thirty feet away from him and dared him to chase it. Cursing himself and the kit, he obliged. The kit scampered away as soon as Enan took a step toward it and stopped again. It was all a game.
This went on for several minutes, the absurdity of the situation not lost on Enan. The rest of the town was readying itself for an attack, and here he was playing a game with his firefox. He rolled his eyes and ran after the kit again, who was now running back the way they had come from.
A popping sound startled Enan and made him gasp for air. He finally noticed that the objects in the sky were much closer, and he could make out all the details of the machines. His kit dropped its bone and bolted for its master, leaping into the air and colliding with Enan’s chest. Enan grabbed the kit and held it close, covering its ears with his hands. “You need to go away,” he said gently. The firefox dissolved into nothing, leaving Enan with his hands free again. He raced for the town square.
Fighting had already begun by the time he arrived. He threw himself behind a stone wall and peered through one of the narrow cracks. Humans in their hunter green masks and uniforms and kitsune in their multicolored tunics battled it out. I didn’t know humans used fire, he thought. But their fire was different. It came from weapons similar to the one the elder had shown him earlier, and the only clue to the flame inside was the smoke. A group of two kitsune stood in front of Enan’s wall and launched streams of fire at the humans, who replied with explosions from their weapons. Both fell to the ground, and a small piece of the wall chipped away. Enan’s heart raced, and blood pounded in his ears. This wasn’t supposed to happen! The fire should have incinerated the humans. Unless they had learned.
He saw the elder collapse under the superior force of the humans, then he made up his mind and rushed from the scene as fast as he could.
He had been followed, apparently. Some of the humans from the town must have noticed a lone kitsune trying to escape with his life intact, and since that went against the orders of whoever they served, they needed to remedy that. Sighing to himself, he came to a stop and changed direction, choosing to hide himself in the undergrowth.
Enan heard them as they walked by, alert and at the ready. They were going to pass him.
Unfortunately that was the moment his firefox decided to summon itself and protect its master. The kit growled and lunged at a human, who fired at the creature out of surprise. The bullet passed through the firefox without causing any harm, but the human had managed to scare the kit witless. It had run back into hiding and was now yipping and growling at the humans from a safe place: between Enan’s legs. Enan wanted to strike his firefox, but he knew that would do no good. And it wasn’t obeying his orders, so that was out of the question, as well.
He looked up and locked eyes with the human when it approached him, or more correctly he glared at where the human’s eyes would be if they weren’t behind the mask. “What are you doing out here, kit?” the human asked, using the derogatory shortening of the race name. Enan resisted the urge to snap back. The human leveled his weapon at the kitsune’s chest and indicated that he was to walk out of hiding.
He obeyed without saying a word. He surveyed the humans who had come to capture him, looking for a sign of weakness but finding none. One of the humans said something to another and reached for the kitsune’s ears, stroking and pulling them.
That did it. “What do you think I am, a dog?” He pushed the human back several feet and growled. The other human shoved its weapon into his chest again. Enan thought he could smell smoke coming out of his ears. No one touched him there.
An orange creature roared and attacked one of the camouflaged humans, forcing him to the ground and tearing at its clothes with its claws and teeth. The human’s allies turned on the creature, an acceptably-sized firefox, and fired at it. As expected, the bullets passed right through, causing no harm to the fire-composed creature. It must have felt Enan’s shock, because it stepped away from its victim and faced Enan. He recognized it immediately.
All of a sudden he felt weak, and he staggered against a tree. The human who had first found him swore and jammed his weapon against Enan’s back, demanding an explanation. “I don’t know what happened!” he cried. He had an idea, though, but he wasn’t about to tell them. It would get them killed.
“It’s gone!” Enan let himself relax. It wasn’t going to be a problem, anymore. Then he sensed movement behind him and all of a sudden he blacked out.
They brought him to one of the many prison camps scattered throughout the region. They stripped him of his old clothes and outfitted him with the prisoner uniform: a stark-white tunic with matching cotton pants. Then they threw him into a cell of his own, and there was nothing he could do but wait.
And brood.
He already had a dislike of the creatures who had invaded his home, but the realization that not only did they claim to be able to conquer but actually had the means to back up their statement irritated him. For what reason did they feel it was their right to subjugate a foreign species? But the humans weren’t the only target. He still had not forgiven himself for his humiliation in defeat.
“Here! This way!” The voice shook Enan out of his dark thoughts. Whoever had spoken wasn’t speaking English, so there was the small chance that the kitsune had finally managed to muster the courage and resources to strike back.
The strangers’ steps clacked on the hard concrete floor and came to a stop outside his cell. Because his room contained no window to the outside, he could not check to see if his suspicions were correct. “This one!”
“You sure?” another asked.
“Yes, I’m sure!” The sound of a lock being tampered with made Enan’s heart jump. He leaped to his feet and ran to the door.
“I’m in here!” he said. He tapped on the door and swore. “I can’t help you, though!”
“No problem; it’s taken care of.” That was the second voice. The door slid to the side, and Enan got his first look at the two who had come to help him. His blood immediately went cold.
“What do you want, human?” The human reached in and tried to grab Enan’s arm, but he wouldn’t let him. “Stay back!”
“We don’t have time for this! As soon as the shock wears off, the humans are not going to be forgiving,” the kitsune with the human said. “I’d give us two minutes, tops.”
The human shoved a hunter-green uniform into the captive’s hands. “Change into these,” he ordered. He nodded at his helper, who reached into her pocket and pulled something out. Enan didn’t get a good look at it before she lunged at him and forced whatever it was between two of his molars.
Enan’s hand shot to his face while his tongue searched for the device. He found it, a metal chip that had been successfully wedged into place. “Don’t move it,” she said. “It’ll help you escape.”
“And how, may I ask?”
“You’re running out of time,” the human said. “Change into those things now!”
“Okay. You come barging into my cell, shove the scum’s clothes into my hands, make me feel like you’re ripping out a tooth, and you expect me to go with you?”
“Put simply, yes.” The sound of movement from above made the two kitsune and human look up. Enan saw that both strangers looked quite nervous about the whole affair. He decided to take it.
He tore apart his old clothes and forced his way into the uniform. “Hey, I’m not going to have room for my—” He felt the back of the pants, hoping that maybe he could stuff his tail down one of the legs. “What did you do to me?!” Was that a snicker?
“It’s only temporary. Come on, we have thirty seconds left.”
Grumbling to himself, the now-human-appearing Enan stepped out of his cell for the first time in weeks. Or was it months?
The kitsune nodded. “Looks good on you. Now come on!”
He followed the pair up the stairs and out into the courtyard, where the kitsune and humans were fighting it out. “What happened?”
“We got sick of having our side cooped up in cages, is what happened,” the human replied. For the first time Enan wondered if this human was another kitsune in disguise like him.
The three hurried outside the camp to the relative safety of the no-man’s-land. “Think you can stay human until we get back to camp?” asked the kitsune.
“I guess.” He didn’t know how he had changed in the first place, so he certainly did not know how to revert to his original form.
Once they arrived, one of the rebel kitsune approached the trio and engaged in a short conversation with the human. Enan’s English wasn’t that great, so he didn’t catch all of what was said. The kitsune told Enan to follow him, and after checking with his rescuers, did so. “I realize that was a tad unorthodox,” he said. “Sorry about that.”
“Hmm.”
“So you can take that chip out whenever, but unless you want your tail to be in a very uncomfortable position, you may want to wait.” The kitsune winced when he spoke.
“Personal experience?”
“You could say that.”
He followed the kitsune’s advice and stripped himself before removing the chip. It came out with some difficulty since it had been lodged in there rather well, but before too long he was staring at a strange metal object. “You can hold on to it if you want,” his host said. “Might come in handy later.”
“You trust the human?” Enan asked.
“Yeah. Considering he’s been helping us for the past several months. We wouldn’t’ve even found the camp if he hadn’t helped us out.” He pulled a loose hair from the top of his ear. “Unfortunately that made him a fugitive. His name’s Chris. He’s a nice guy; might want to get to know him.”
Enan had nothing better to do, so he wandered around the camp. He ran into Chris while he walked. “Oh uh...hi.”
The human flashed him a smile. “Good afternoon,” he said.
Enan grunted in reply and let his firefox out to play. It waddled over to Chris, who laughed and picked it up. “He’s cute,” Chris said. “You got a name for him?” The firefox licked his face, so Chris gently moved its head so it couldn’t attack him again.
“No. Never bothered naming him.”
“So listen. This is about the time that I apologize to a kitsune I’ve just met for the evils my kind has caused.”
“Don’t bother,” Enan said. “I don’t really care.” A buzzing sound filled the air. “What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s probably my parents emailing me again,” Chris replied. Moving the firekit to one hand, he pulled a small device from his pocket and began tinkering with it. “Yep, that’s what it was.”
“They...what?” Enan moved so he could see the device better. It was a small plastic rectangle with a colored screen. “What’s it say?”
“They’re asking me how I’m doing, that’s all. I’ll reply to them later.” He put it back in his pocket and cradled the firefox again. “So where do you come from?”
“Nowhere, really. I’m a wanderer. I already know you’re from Earth. How’d you end up helping us?”
“I came here to see something different, but I’ve been working for you since day one,” Chris said. He wouldn’t answer any more of Enan’s questions. “Anyway, nice meeting you.” He waved to another kitsune a few yards off and headed his way. Chris walked with a slight limp, Enan noticed.
Later on the kitsune rallied around Chris yet another time. He produced the blueprints he had used earlier, and he and the leader kitsune (who was a few years younger than Enan and was named Flair) began assigning tasks to everyone present. The humans had not followed them back, which as a shock in itself, but the current opinion was such that no one would tolerate the humans’ presence any longer. They would begin with this camp as a symbolic gesture, and hopefully this would begin a turning point. If all went well, the humans would either be dead or would return to their world.
So what would that mean for Chris? Enan had heard whispers of disappointment that their hero would be forced to leave. Chris himself had stated that he would return home as soon as the war was over, but some believed he was only saying that so others wouldn’t accuse him of working for his own gain.
They returned to the camp, a force just under fifty strong, ready and willing to sacrifice themselves for the redemption of their home. Both sides fought fiercely, but as time wore on the kitsune gained a definite foothold that they did not lose. Finally, the humans surrendered the camp.
That was an odd time. The humans and kitsune stood on opposite sides of the courtyard, the blood of both races mingling in the center. Chris and Flair approached Enan and asked him to come with them.
The three crossed the courtyard, and Chris began to speak. “We are going to give you a choice,” he said. “You can either be prisoners until we can find a way for you to return to your home, or you can join your fellows there.” He left no doubt that he referred to the bodies lying about.
Enan saw why he had been asked to come with the two. The humans had been disarmed, but at least two burned with hatred behind their calm demeanor. Should they try to attack the traitor human, Chris might need someone to protect him.
Chris nodded to his two helpers and backed away. Then blood came from his head and he fell to the ground.
“We would like to take his body with us,” the soldier who referred to himself only as Ashton said. He was one of the few who had helped restore order to the courtyard after the sniper had murdered Chris. And as expected, it had been the kitsune who had reacted the most violently to the event. Enan and Flair had not been enough to keep them under control.
“Understood,” Enan said. “Although, if you don’t mind...have all his valuables been taken care of?”
Ashton shifted on his feet. “Er, well, yes, they have. Why do you ask?”
“I was wondering if I could have something of his.”
Ashton paled and then turned red. “How can you even ask that?”
Enan held up his hands and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I would like to contact his parents, if you do not mind.”
Ashton frowned. “There’s going to be someone to do that,” he said.
“I know, but that person isn’t going to give the perspective that matters. Our perspective.” The official reports were that the human Christopher Bryce had fallen in battle, but the kitsune refused to allow the report to say anything about his defection. He would be just another number in the battle.
“He was a traitor.”
“He was a hero. Goodbye.” Enan left the human to his complaints.
He was able to inherit Chris’ PDA, and when the humans were arranged to be sent back, he grabbed the chip he had used to transform into a human and went with the defeated soldiers with the understanding that he would be allowed to return as soon as his mission was complete. It was difficult going from place to place with only a rudimentary understanding of the language, but he picked it up quickly enough.
Finally the day came when he stood outside the Bryce front door. There was a car in the driveway, so he knew someone had to be home. He knocked on the door three times and waited. After a minute a lady wearing a pink sweat suit answered him. “Mrs. Bryce?” He bit his lip. “I am a friend of your son, Chris. May I come in?”
She let him and to top it off called for her husband. He sat in a chair, and they on the couch, with only a dark wooden coffee table between them. “What was it you wanted to say?”
“I wanted to tell you what really happened.” He removed the chip from between his teeth and set Chris’ PDA on the table. “And to say, ‘Thank you.’”
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Copying Julius...sorta
Well, since Julius put up a webcomic or two I thought I would, as well. I won't link to all of them. If you're interested you can look them up.
Spiky-Haired Dragon, Worthless Knight
Rating: PG
A generally unfunny webcomic following the lives of Vincent Worthless and his dragon squire Spiky. I like the story, though.
Related to this is Spiky's World
Sandusky
Rating: G mostly
A man and his pets: a husky and mountain lion. Only a few people know Sandusky's "real" identity. Quite funny.
Canis Lupus
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Completed. Modern setting. A werewolf and vampire find themselves partners in a science project...and on opposing sides in the war. Turns a little odd near the end.
Abel's Story
Rating: strong PG-13 to R (?) for violence and occasional strong language
Side story of DMFA. What happened to Abel in his past? Is there a reason why he's so much of a jerk? Very sad story, but good nonetheless.
Inhuman
Rating: PG-13/R for violence and language
A battle between the Pagans and Rulerists. No humans, but no characters are furries. Intriguing plot, and likes to raise questions.
That's pretty much it.
Spiky-Haired Dragon, Worthless Knight
Rating: PG
A generally unfunny webcomic following the lives of Vincent Worthless and his dragon squire Spiky. I like the story, though.
Related to this is Spiky's World
Sandusky
Rating: G mostly
A man and his pets: a husky and mountain lion. Only a few people know Sandusky's "real" identity. Quite funny.
Canis Lupus
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Completed. Modern setting. A werewolf and vampire find themselves partners in a science project...and on opposing sides in the war. Turns a little odd near the end.
Abel's Story
Rating: strong PG-13 to R (?) for violence and occasional strong language
Side story of DMFA. What happened to Abel in his past? Is there a reason why he's so much of a jerk? Very sad story, but good nonetheless.
Inhuman
Rating: PG-13/R for violence and language
A battle between the Pagans and Rulerists. No humans, but no characters are furries. Intriguing plot, and likes to raise questions.
That's pretty much it.
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