Blast from the past

Today our "stuff" caught up with us in Australia. The movers arrived at about 10am, a few hours into the heaviest of this summer's many downpours. Fitting then that the arrival of our goods was also accompanied by a flood of memories. We opened up our bedding and remembered the many nights we spent in Long Beach. Seeing our night stands again transported me back into our little apartment on Spring Street, which we haven't even thought much about since we left it three months ago. Of course, some of the memories go even deeper than that--Annie unpacked our bedding and said "Oh, here's the blanket that Grammy made for me". Of course, this memory stimulant carries a lot of bittersweet freight, since it has been less than five months that her grandmother has been "absent from the flesh and present with the Lord".

I spent most of the evening before and after our weekly Bible study by unpacking my boxes of books. This was very fulfilling--I need these books because I've got a lot of writing to do in the near future. However, it was also fraught with not a little introspection on my part. As I pulled the books from boxes and stacked them (two rows deep!) on the built-in shelves in our college flat, I was reminded of so many of the decisions I've made, and experiences I've had, over the past decade.

There were some books dating to my community college days: the beautiful King James Version bible that I bought when I was still in Arizona, faithful attending the eschatology-focused Calvary Chapel there. I did love that church--as unhealthy as I realize now that it was. I sure did learn a lot about the Bible during that time, too. Then there are some of the Arabic books I bought when I was studying that language for two years. I remembered thinking about how I might go to the Middle East and practice my skills, something that I did when I lived in East Jerusalem for six months. Of course, I also felt a lot of disappointment when I reflected that I never got very good at Arabic.

Then there were the books that spoke of the first couple of years I spent at Biola. Biblical commentaries, New Testament monographs, and especially my tattered Greek textbooks. These were great years. I made new friends, I lived completely on my own for the first time (other than the six months abroad), and I found out that I really loved studying the Bible, theology, and philosophy even. I discovered a thirst for knowledge that was nearly insatiable. As I looked at those ratty Greek books, I thought about the caffeine-fueled late nights studying Greek and reading books that were above and beyond the requirements for my classes. I remembered the hot summer I spent house-sitting in Garden Grove, with all my free time (I was working with jr. high kids at my church) going to memorizing the principal parts of every Greek verb in my text book. I longed to gain a level of mastery so that I could do research and teach others.

Then there were some of the first theological texts I ever bought and read--a copy of the first volume of Karl Barth's Church Dogmatics, Robert Jenson's Systematic Theology, and a ratty underlined copy of Calvin's Institutes. These were heady times--I realized that I didn't only want to study scripture, but I wanted to reflect upon its meaning for the modern world. This was the beginning of a new era for me. Of course, this was also the time that I started dating the woman who is now my wife, Annie Temple. These books reminded me of the joy and stress of that time. I was trying to date Annie well, wondering whether or not I should get married, wondering whether I could be a good husband. And these were good times: discovering what it was like to be loved, and learning to love another person in a way that I hadn't before.

Then there is a particular theological text--Kevin Vanhoozer's Drama of Doctrine--that I was reading right at the time that I was offered a full-time position at my church. It was the summer, and I was planning that fall to take a full-load and finish my bachelor's degree. I was still working part-time at my church. I remembered how, in July, I was abruptly told that the youth pastor, my boss, was quitting. A couple of days later, I was offered the job. $50,000 per year plus benefits. I would have to cut back to part-time and take the entire school year to finish my degree. I wanted to say no--I did not want to do youth ministry. But I had $30,000 in student loans, and more importantly--I had a girlfriend that I really wanted to make into a fiance and, ultimately, a wife. I took the job. My first sermon series was loosely based on Vanhoozer's book: I taught the students how to understand the Bible as a drama that unfolds in five acts. That first year of youth ministry was hell on earth for me...I was going to school part-time, starting in my first fulltime ministry position with little to no support and a lot of external and internal pressure. Oh, and I was planning to get engaged and then planning a wedding.

I found a Jonathan Edwards biography by George Marsden. I remember reading this while on our honeymoon in June, 2008. I had just been through one of the best events of my life, marrying a beautiful and loving woman. At the same time, two weeks prior to the wedding, I had dealt with a group of parents and students who were trying to get me fired from my job--a job I can honestly say that I had tried so desperately to succeed at. As I look at the Edwards biography, I remember the joy and sorrow of this. If only I could stay in Oregon with my bride and with Edwards, but I knew that soon I'd return to Southern California. I don't think I had ever been so happy and nervous as during that honeymoon. We were in the throes of wedded bliss, but the global economy melting down as we vacationed, and my job back home was in question.

Then there is the set of the Church Dogmatics that Annie bought me for our first anniversary in 2008. I remember reading through parts of these, longing to get into a PhD program. I was hoping to somehow do well enough in my master's program--in which I was enrolled part-time--that I could get in to Oxford or Aberdeen or somewhere with a fancy name, and somewhere in the UK. I posted a facebook status up about Annie buying these for me. The young Aussie blogger, Ben Myers, posted a comment: "Isn't there something about the Church Dogmatics in Proverbs 31?" Little did I know that this would be my future PhD supervisor, and that I'd move to Australia and take these books, and all the others, with me.

As I looked through the books, I also saw a great many books that were of little to no consequence to me, and actually do not look very interesting at all. Technical books on New Testament history, books on trendy philosophical topics, and books I bought just because I thought that I had to read them if I were going to be respected by people in the academic circles I so desperately wanted to get into. I realized that a lot of these books represented one thing to me: striving. Trying hard to be a certain type of person--more rigorous, more literary, more conversant with liberal theology--none of them necessarily bad, but all for the wrong reasons. For this reason, opening my books scared me. I want to repent and turn from this striving--that's what this new chapter of my life should be about. I realize that I'm at my happiest when I simply try to follow Jesus, and my book-buying and reading habits are disciplined around this desire.