from an interview between James C. Dobson and Ted Bundy. (from an online book "Porn Again Christian" by Mark Driscoll.) Thanks to a fellow blogger for posting this first.

Preface: This is about pornography and its impact on human nature. As the introduction to this interview states in the book, "Bundy admitted that he possessed none of the normal triggers for such sinful behavior, as he was raised in a loving Christian home with five siblings and did not experience any sexual abuse growing up. Rather, he confessed in clear detail how as a young boy he began, as most boys do, viewing common pornography, which grew into increasingly harder and more deviant forms of pornography that eventually led to his acting out his evil fantasies..."

Psychology and other sources normally teach that such deviancy in behavior is a result of genetically endowed inclinations, destructive environments, abuse, etc. Porn isn't the only destructive force in this world. We have been fooled into believing that the problem is a lot more manageable (or label-able) than it is. The road to sin of all stripes is indeed a slippery slope, and a leaving of the heart's habitations open to danger.

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James C. Dobson: It is about 2:30 in the afternoon. You are scheduled to be executed tomorrow morning at 7:00, if you don't receive another stay. What is going through your mind? What thoughts have you had in these last few days?

Ted: I won't kid you to say it is something I feel I'm in control of or have come to terms with. It's a moment-by-moment thing. Sometimes I feel very tranquil and other times I don't feel tranquil at all. What's going through my mind right now is to use the minutes and hours I have left as fruitfully as possible. It helps to live in the moment, in the essence that we use it productively. Right now I'm feeling calm, in large part because I'm here with you.

JCD: For the record, you are guilty of killing many women and girls.

Ted: Yes, that's true.

JCD: How did it happen? Take me back. What are the antecedents of the behavior that we've seen? You were raised in what you consider to be a healthy home. You were not physically, sexually or emotionally abused.

Ted: No. And that's part of the tragedy of this whole situation. I grew up in a wonderful home with two dedicated and loving parents, as one of 5 brothers and sisters. Continue reading →

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, bought spices, so that they might come and anoint Him.

Very early on the first day of the week, they came to the tomb when the sun had risen.

They were saying to one another, "Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance of the tomb?"

Looking up, they saw that the stone had been rolled away, although it was extremely large.

Entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting at the right, wearing a white robe; and they were amazed.

And he said to them, "Do not be amazed; you are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who has been crucified.

He has risen; He is not here.... behold the place where they laid him."

(Mark 16:1-6)

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a. Are you worrying about who will roll away the stone? It has been rolled away. The Way has been made plain. When seeking to do something for Christ, just go.

b. Where are you looking for Christ? Perhaps He is not where you are expecting Him to be. ("Why do you seek the living One among the dead?" Luke 24:5)

c. He has risen! Death has been swallowed up in victory... thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15: 54, 57) And so shall we ever be with the LORD.

Do you believe?

Now when the centurion, and they that were with him, watching Jesus, saw the earthquake, and those things that were done, they feared greatly, saying, Truly this was the Son of God. Matthew 27:54

I will bless the LORD, who hath given me counsel: my reins also instruct me in the night seasons. I have set the LORD always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope, because you will not abandon me to the grave, nor will you let your Holy One see decay.. Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. Psalm 16:7-11 KJV, NIV

O fools and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken... ought now Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory? Luke 24:25, 26

For we are saved by hope: but hope that is seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? Romans 8:24

And as they led Him away, they laid hold upon one Simon, a Cyrenian, coming out of the country, and on him they laid the cross, that he might bear it after Jesus.

And there followed Him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented Him. But Jesus turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem...

weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children.
for behold, the days are coming in the which they shall say,
blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bare...
then shall they begin to say to the mountains,
fall on us, and to the hills, cover us
for if they do these things in a green tree,
what shall be done in the dry?

...and when they were come to the place, which is called Calvary, there they crucified Him, and the malefactors, one on the right hand, and one on the left...

and the people stood beholding.

and the rulers also with them derided Him, saying,

he saved others; let him save himself, if he be the Christ, the chosen of God.

and the soldiers also mocked Him, coming to Him, and offering Him vinegar, and saying,

if thou be the king of the Jews, save thyself...

(And they that passed by railed on Him, wagging their heads, saying,

Ah, thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days,
Save thyself, and come down from the Cross.

Likewise the chief priests mocking said among themselves with the scribes,

He saved others, himself he cannot save.
Let Christ the King of Israel descend now from the Cross,
that we may see and believe...

(He trusted in God; let Him deliver Him now, if He will have Him:
for He said, I am the Son of God. Matthew 27)

And they that were crucified with Him reviled Him. Mark 15)

and one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on Him, saying,

if thou be Christ, save thyself and us...

(Insults and reproach have broken my heart; I am full of heaviness and Iam distressingly sick. I looked for pity, but there was none, and forcomforters, but I found none. Psalm 69:20)

...And all this acquaintance, and the women that followed Him from Galilee, stood afar off, beholding these things.

[Joseph, of Arimathaea,] went unto Pilate, and begged the body of Jesus. And he took it down, and wrapped it in linen, and laid it in a sepulchre that was hewn in stone... and that day was the preparation, and the Sabbath drew on...

and they returned, and prepared spices and ointments; and rested the Sabbath day according to the commandment.

(Luke 23)

If Jesus came down from the cross, the salvation of humanity would have been doomed.

The very people He came to save were mocking Him by telling Him to come down from the cross on which their sins were to be eradicated.

The ones He loved were standing afar off...

This is indeed the man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. He did it for us.

"For the Lord HIMSELF shall descend from Heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord." 1 Thess 4:17

The Bible was written for the living, not the dead.

Sounds pretty obvious, doesn't it? But seriously. "The dead in Christ shall rise first: then WE which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with THEM in the clouds..." It does not say, "THEY which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with THEM (the dead in Christ)..."

Paul wrote this for us.

God is good. And I... sometimes I am so busy looking for cheap coins on the ground of life that I am astounded and surprised when I bump into the providence of God or when the heavens open and the showers of blessing start raining down. Why should I be surprised? Why am I amazed when God does what He said He would do? And yet I know that this is the human element. We must see to believe and are wearied by even short periods of delay.

In Matthew 24:48 we see the parable of the servant who the Lord had made ruler over his household. After a while, the servant starts to think, "My lord delays his coming..." and starts to beat this fellowservants and drink with the drunkards, and is ultimately surprised by the coming of his master. Many people (not including myself) like surprises, but even they wouldn't welcome this one. And yet, we too, think in our hearts, Jesus is delaying His answer. We start beating our proverbial servants (our powers of reason, faith, love, sense of purpose...) and start to side with the 'other siders'....

Do you know what I'm talking about?

In any case, I am encouraged. We already know the end of the story. In that Great gettin' up morning, we will be forever with the Lord. And ONE angel, not two or three or a legion, will come down and defy Satan, whose amazing power will be no match for just one of the host of God. And after the millennium, he will be destroyed.

And we will vindicate the character of God and declare to the world that "He is the Rock, his work is perfect: for all his ways are judgment: a God of truth and without iniquity, just and right is he." (Deuteronomy 32:4, Rev 15:3)

And thus shall we ever be with the Lord.

The Bible was written for us, the living, the ones who are here. It was written to give us hope, encouragement, exhortation, rebuke, guidance... it is Jesus, the Word of God, made tangible and audible through the words that will ever be in our ears. It is as living as it ever was, and as it ever will be. Let's hold fast to that.

The 7,000 out out there. Do you hear them sing?

No, not really.

Bob the Builder aside, There are some things in life that we just can't fix, and the more we try, the worse it gets. I was going to plug in a bad analogy of a card I made while participating in a scrapbooking party (don't ask me how I got there. Please.) but I'll spare the details. Suffice to say that the card ended up looking like a flag, and to top it off, it opened the wrong way. It all started with a small mistake that I thought I could handle and cover up. (Maybe it's because I shouldn't have been scrapbooking in the first place. Although the first one was just fine.)

We can't handle some of our mistakes. Shoot, we can't handle a vast majority of our mistakes. But we walk around, and what a sight might we be to the angels... smiling soot-faced children, thinking that smearing our faces with vaseline will make it all go away.

God saves.

At this point, that means more to me than something theological, something that happened on a cross a long time ago, something that people say that is more like a greeting than a statement of significance. Jesus saving me means that He is able to heal the broken parts of me that I still hold close. As a humanity obsessed with perfection, we rarely want to show our scars and our disfigurations... and yet He who sees all sees them too and loves us, not in spite of them, not because of them, but with the whole package.

Jesus saving me means that He has rerouted me from a path of winding, turning, and confusing roads to a path that is lit by the source of light Himself. It means that I can choose. It means that I don't have to be penalized for the ruin that is my life. It means that at the tollbooth of the devil, I don't have to pay. He saves me.

And what of all the broken pieces? Or all the pieces we don't want to think are broken? All the things that we think will be ok with a little bit of glue, a little bit of duct tape, a little bit of chewing gum? I am continually surprised by the brokenness of mankind. No one has been exempt. And yet, we all think the other has it all put together.

But self-esteem will not hold it together. Putting on a strong face, a mean face, a masked face, will not hold it together. Pep talks and new-age mantras will not hold it together. Shoe strings and orthopedics and therapy sessions will not hold it together... Cheap love and false promises and 1,000 friends on Facebook will not hold it together.

In the end, we are broken, and the only one who will mend us is the one who made us in the first place. The One who knows the rules, the inside gears, the kind of rubber that was used in the First Model, the special grease that works so well on that particular spot, and the tools that are to be used to make it all happen...

Often it boils down to the simple steps of obedience. As a little child, we must learn the first steps. Trust and obey... but the big boys always want to do things on their own... But they, like all of us, will learn that there is only One Gate. One Physician. One Saviour of All Mankind. And it is not us.

We can't fix it, but God can. He is mighty to save.

What does God as a Savior mean to you?

O I'm gonna sit at the welcome table
O I'm gonna sit at the welcome table one of these days
I'm gonna sit at the welcome table... sit at the welcome table one of these days!

One day, the curtain of the heavens will tear away, and the Desire of Nations will come through it. One day, all the things we cried over, sinned over, struggled over, paid the price of years for... all the things that we spent money on... all the things that once made us lose sleep... all of it will disassemble to nothingness. It will melt with fervent heat, and all that will be left will be a memory.

What kind of glory is so great that it will cause us to just shout, "I'd do it all again... it was worth it. Heaven is cheap enough"? What kind of wonder will make us fall to our knees in complete adoration and cast the very crowns that are given us at the feet of the Redeemer?

Light breaks through the clouds, and yet it is still dark here. The promised hour has not yet come. Burdens are still heavy... history's sins still re-emerge and oppress... laughter fades and tears remain... But in this quiet, I can see it. Those white sheets... Miles and miles and miles long... cut on a single bolt of fabric, there are no rips and tears or overlaps. There is juice and grapes and figs and oranges and pears and all sorts of things we've never seen before. Twelve different kinds of fruit from the tree of life... if life is good, how would it taste on the tongue?

I can almost hear the singing. I want to hear the angel choir. Singing sweet songs, singing happy songs, singing songs of victory, of reunification, of things made whole again. I want to be there. And perhaps I will be so grateful and happy that no face will be a surprise... because we have all made it not with our own merits, but with the merits of Jesus, the lamb that was slain.

Revive us, O Lord. Raise us up. Bring vigor back into our bones, and where we are dry, put in us a river of life, and a fountain of never-ceasing joy.

It's almost midnight and I am completely sleepless. I don't know why. This is rare.

Instead of fighting it, I'm just going to get some things done. Like writing an incoherent blog.

I was thinking today about corruption. Not like the government kind, or the kind that happens to metal after a while. I'm talking about the general kind. The all-pervasive kind.

I was drinking out of my mug today (just water) and before I took a sip I noticed some... chunks at the bottom of the cup. Gross. I had to rinse it out and ended up washing the cup as best I could. I didn't think much of this until later in the evening when it came to mind that just about everything was corrupt.

Finding anything in pristine condition is rare, and it usually doesn't stay that way. Clothing gathers lint and warps with time. Pages crinkle and bend. Plastic loses its color and paint starts to chip. Everywhere, everything is in some progress towards dilapidation. We are one mess of a world.

Our characters too, are often in shambles. Made new every morning, we crawl back to our beds broken. We must be a resilient folk. Not a soul walks around untainted. If our struggles showed like battle scars we would be a tremendous (or perhaps hideous would be a better word) sight.

Does writing at midnight naturally bring about morose thoughts? I don't know. My feet are chilly.

I'm tired of living in a falling-apart world. I want to live in a world where things are beautiful and they stay that way. I want to live in a world where I am beautiful, and when I am done with the day, I am not changed for the worse. I want to live in a world where people don't lie and cheat and say mean things. I want to live in a world where love, peace, and joy are what is natural and strife, resentment, and rudeness are not even an impulse.

This is one of those "I am tired of fighting" days.

And then I remember the high days, and they seem like an illusion. As though I am at the base of a mountain and the peaks are so high they disappear into the sky. But I know it's there. I know that even in the din of life, God is here.

If He was born in a barn, in a manger which may have later held horse slobber, in a place where people's hearts were so cold they didn't even recognize the coming of the One who would save them, He can be anywhere. If dilapidation did not keep Him from saving His own, why is it keeping me from taking His word?

Maybe I take perfection too far. Maybe my dreams of what ought to be isn't what ought to be. If Jesus died for us "while we were yet sinners" who am I to be discouraged at our state? Perfection isn't what God died for. It was the grunge. The rabble. The down-and-dirty. The fungus, the crust, the dirt under the fingernails. Yeah, it was for me and you.

I believe.

This weekend, my pastor was talking about leaving doors open for God. I realized that sometimes, we close the door and shout at Him from the inside. And just because I felt like it, I went home and left all my doors open.

My blog has a home now. If you want to know what I mean, click in and look at the address bar.

The weather has been a little crazy lately. Hot and cold, sunny and rainy. Some days the heat is up and my fuzzy socks are on. Other days it is light jacket and sunglasses weather.

I am talking about Postmodernism in my class lately. The kids have been going around saying, "Don't oppress me with your metanarrative!" They think it's funny. At least they're using it in a contextually appropriate way.

God is good. I just... love Him for what He has done and what He is doing in my life. Peace is nice. I know that no matter my struggle, He is there. For me. Even when I need someone to blame, to yell at, to beg. I am currently on a secular media fast (again.) I like it. I've decided to balance it out with a sacred feast (books, sermons, writing, limited music.) Intermixed with chunks of silence. I love silence.

I've realized as I adjusted to life, that life has become my focus and I have been losing a lot of things. Including things like self-control (why do we need self-control, anyway? What's so bad about eating a cookie when I want to eat one?) It turns out that control in the small things are reflective of control in the larger things.

We talked about Peter and Judas this past Sabbath as well. What is the difference between the two, both of whom needed conversion, both of whom were confused about the identity of Christ, and both of whom had stubborn ideas of how things ought to be? Peter's actions, no matter how impulsive, was Christ-centered. When Jesus asked the group if they would leave Him, it was Peter who said, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." Judas' actions, on the other hand, was self-centered.

I don't want a self-centered life. I don't want a God who caters to my whims. I love a religion which allows God to have His place. It is not about my sacrifice, but His. The life He gave is much better than the life He asks for. And here we are, earthen vessels, blessed with the greatest content in the world. Let's not mix it with worthless things.

Throughout my professional life I've been told to protect my personal sphere. Don't let your job take you over. I learned not to. Remember to separate work and play. I've become adept at that. Remember to take care of you.

This job is inherently different from any other job I've encountered. And I am thinking to myself, have I forgotten that this is a ministry? I have a card somewhere that certifies me as a "licensed minister of teaching" in my field. Is there a difference between a job and a life calling?

Maybe it's not just in my profession. Maybe it has seeped into all facets of my life. I have learned to keep many things at arm's length... lest they get too close. Lest they find out who "I" really am. Lest I "lose myself" in the process. As a student, I kept my studies at a distance. They were often irrelevant, uninteresting, or too complicated. I didn't want to think about such things in my youth. The problem was that I didn't know that those might've been the only chances I'd get to handle them. Time steals more than opportunities; some events are primed for certain times that if passed, never come back again.

Investment in a life is difficult if you can foresee--or if you think you can foresee--that things might not last. Pain and disappointments are too much to bear. Perhaps it is better to lose quickly than to love and lose in an agonizingly long process.

Who am "I" anyway? Who are we to think we have something to protect? Are we not all growing, maturing, forward-moving individuals? What is this "I"-ness that is so important? Is this "I" a destination? Is it a "thing" to be discovered? Shouldn't we have the answers to these questions by some magical age? Do we ever cease to grow?

In any case, I think we have held back a lot of ourselves from the world. We are made in the image of God to be movers, believers, creators, change-makers. We are made to be lovers of mankind, explorers, enablers, replacers of dim lightbulbs, shiners of dull silver.

I don't want to protect my sphere any more.

Maybe it's my allergy medication speaking. I've been foggy for the past few days, but as the meds wear off I can feel clarity rushing back into my mind just as fast as the histamines rush to clog up my sinuses.

God is so good. I felt His flame today. I love when you can see the flicker of God's passion in someone else, when you can smell just-formed clay, fresh out of the potter's wheel. I love when you can feel the rush of wind as God's spirit is moving in a soul.

I believe that as human beings, we are not made to have a divided heart. We are made to love completely, wholly, passionately, and singularly. We are meant to throw ourselves into One thing, One being, One God. We are meant to look outside of ourselves, to free ourselves from the constant inward look, and to be that extended hand. The shackles of self-esteem and pride can be thrown off. We can run this race.

Maybe I am not meant to throw myself into my job, but I'm going to try it. Abandon all fears and just let myself love and be loved. Yes, all this as I am walking home from staff meeting.