Cycling: Draper Road Test

01Stem-riserIt came in the mail yesterday, several days early, and I was so glad to see it. On many newer type bicycles, the steering changed. You can’t just raise the “goose-neck” like you could with old bikes. I had to order an extension called a “stem riser” that raises it all up about 2″ (50mm). It wasn’t such a big deal yesterday with very little time on the roads, but I wanted to hit Draper today and I was expending soreness from the handlebars being lower than the seat.02trib2CrutchoCrk Draper is 20 miles (32km) minimum from where I live.

I can’t find the name for this tributary to Crutcho Creek, but it seemed a lovely shot on my way out to Draper Lake. I don’t actually plan my rides any more beyond simply heading in the direction of the lake, for example.03Washout-DraperNW It crossed my mind that I could try out the Draper Trails area for mountain bikes, but came in from the west side so I opted for a test of a randomly chosen trail. The trail where the Medical Examiner’s team was a few weeks ago seemed like a good starting point. This huge washout (#3) was picturesque, but the soil was too wet and goopy all around there.

04Point6-DraperDown a ways was a gravel road marked for Point 6, so I grabbed that. It was about a quarter-mile down to the dock. The place had not seen much maintenance lately and the lower water make it a little ugly. Still, it offered a chance to take a look at the shoreline trail.05ShoreTrailDraper This is a very rough flat dirt path wide enough for motor traffic, but not at all developed for it. It’s open to horse, pedestrians and bicycles. I saw some tire tracks that weren’t too old.

This trail exists pretty much on the entire shoreline and is visible from any satellite mapping imagery. I took off southward from Point 6 and it snaked around every point and cove, making for a far longer ride than the paved ring road around the lake. Today it was just wet enough to be a drag on riding, so it became too much work for more than a couple of loops. At one point it was just a few steps from the road I came in on, and I jumped the barrier and rode back out. Maybe another day, but it’s supposed to rain this weekend, so I’m not in a hurry to try again soon. Hopefully it dries before the heat of summer arrives. Otherwise there will be vast clouds of biting insects and a few venomous snakes to spice up the trail just a bit. Meanwhile, the trees told me they were glad to have someone they could talk to, but very sad so few humans with an active sensory heart passed on a regular basis.

06HilltopViewWestElmCrkSo it became an easy cruise on the paved road. I keep talking about how Creation is a living thing, and all of my bikes have talked to me, usually through my body. This one tells me to take my time and not get into a hurry; enjoy the scenery and climb some stuff. So I spotted a good, high grassy hill off east of the road and climbed it for fun. At the top I encountered a marvelous view of West Elm Creek. That clump of tall, deeply gold colored grass is the same stuff that keeps calling my name from the roadsides everywhere I go. I took a moment to pray in the high breeze atop the hill and reach out to stroke the grass. It gave me a joyous thrill in response, and I needed the encouragement.

07EDraperLkDrBy now I realized that I simply must replace that saddle. It’s not wide enough for my bone structure and I was in pain long before I got home. Granted, this bike is a wholly different riding workout, using different muscles from the Edgewood, but I can’t recall when my butt hurt that bad from riding. Still, I went on around the lake to capture this image of the ongoing work on the new road on the NE corner of the lake. That path I showed in previous shots now looks like this: wider, flatter and packed hard already.

08FragrantTreeOne of the few treats of the day was another tree in bloom. Unlike the stinky dogwood, these white blossoms exude a heavenly fragrance. I don’t remember what it’s called, but it’s native to this area. You’ll see bushes at first, and when they survive, they can become rather large trees. However, the wood is not that strong and they tend to die and rot before they get too large.

I suppose with the saddle soreness I should be glad it is supposed to rain tomorrow.

Update: I managed to find a replacement saddle I could afford — wide and cushy for my wide and cushy butt.

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Answering Final: Otherworld

We come to the end of this series, and frankly some half of what I might have said in the first place shows up in the comments in reply to other comments. It occurs to me one point in particular bears repeating, so as the final installment of the Answering Series I wanted to restate something about reading the Bible. My comment arose from a reference to a writer chattering with a presumption of authority about angels, demons and other realms of existence using the word “dimension.” This writer insisted that we could use such terminology from theoretical science as a means to capture the factual essence of things beyond this realm of existence.

Human rational science dies at the boundaries of this dimension. The very structure of thought and knowing do not survive the passage; you have to die and leave this human frame to pass over. That doesn’t mean God can’t bring you back to the same old body or a different kind of body, but it does require separating your soul from this current life. This body and some measure of your human awareness must remain here because it is fundamentally flawed and God will not allow it to leave this domain. Science is a construct of that fallen human nature. That’s not a question about how well science works for its intended purpose, but simply to indicate the limitations.

Be aware that the people who wrote the Bible used a lot of figurative language (parabolic language) that had nothing to do with what they actually believed about things. If everybody and his dog uses the phrase, “bring my gray hairs down to Sheol,” it gains a vested meaning far beyond the words themselves. It arises from a primitive Mesopotamian mythology that is not consistent with revelation, but everyone knew what it meant as a colorful contextual expression. I find it goofy that we use language that way ourselves in our culture, but somehow imagine that people in the Bible could not. The same goes for the expression “third heaven” that Paul uses; it comes from the mythology of the Pharisees, not from Scripture. Besides that, it translates poorly into English. You should not assume Paul describes an experience, but that he characterizes it. There’s nothing deceptive about that usage as it was commonly understood as a literary expression of his times. Sometimes they used such expressions with sarcasm and Westerners don’t catch on.

All of this pretense to accurately slice and dice terms and phrases is a Western approach to extract data, and utterly misses the moral gravity behind the words. Most of the blather along those lines might provoke some interesting thoughts, but would never grasp the “ultimate truth” — which is the moral importance. However, English language presumes that whatever we mean as “truth” is contained in, or constrained by, the words. People of the Ancient Near East would snicker at such a concept. They knew the human mind could not leave the limits of this realm of existence, so words were also constrained, but truth from those higher realms was not constrained. So they instinctively used parabolic language, a protocol to indicate things beyond intellect to indicate the moral demands it all places upon us here. Thus, the languages of the Ancient Near East operated more like signposts to indicate directions for our contemplation. The ancients would choke on the common assertion in the West that “words mean things” as the phrase is normally used. If meaning is restricted to the choice of words, then we cannot possibly be talking about anything that really matters.

Thus, science has yet to ascertain usable data on anything beyond the four dimensions we experience as fallen humans. Thus, you can use the term “dimension” either precisely in factual chatter, or you can use it merely as a figure of speech to color our discussions of things we could never understand in reference to spiritual things. You cannot presume to use factual structures to describe anything beyond the boundaries of those four dimensions we experience here. Revelation as a whole warns against thinking you can escape this realm alive. Whatever is “out there” beyond this realm of existence is not accessible to the human mind, but requires a higher faculty that we use to establish moral imperatives from which the mind can organize and implement a moral way of life.

This is not stuffy orthodoxy, because it relies on the Holy Spirit and your own heart to verify what constitutes a prophetic warning.

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Cycling: River One

ScreenshotI loves me some river chasing.

(If you CTRL-click on the map, it should open in a new browser tab and you can refer back and forth to orient the images.)

I’m still learning, but today was the first full ride. It’s an entirely different kind of activity from road riding. This isn’t the end of long-distance rides, because Jeanette does pavement just fine. She’s fast and lighter, so more responsive, but the whole point is to play and experience the same areas from a different perspective.

01Rail-bridge-VickieI’ve decided I don’t like railroad tracks as much as I did as a kid. The first image (#1) is on the far right of the map where I hoped I could check out some more of the de-commissioned track from yesterday. While I found a ride-able path alongside, I had to dismount for this first creek crossing. It’s just too rough riding the ties in the first place, and some of these were about gone.02Rail-bridge-remnants The larger creek was a different matter. As the underbrush got thicker, I also found the bridge had been dismantled and piled to one side, with a bunch of fill dirt dumped on the tracks and no way to even take a look beyond it more than a few feet (#2). A discouraging experience.

03Oddball-trashSo I came back out and rode north on Vickie to NE 4th and followed that down and across the very active rail lines that run at a different angle. But instead of turning right to stay on NE 4th, I decided to run up to where some old pavement runs east-west through the woods. A right would go right back to Sunnylane, but left went off quite a ways through the trees. That used to be a nice boat (#3). A good bit farther on the pavement ended and I spotted a makeshift dwelling in the trees. It was quite large, obviously in current use, and I wanted to respect their privacy, so I turned and went back to NE 4th the way I came.

Basic rule: Don’t violate signs, gates/fences or privacy when playing off-road. Just because a dwelling is technically illegal doesn’t justify rudeness. I try to avoid taking pictures of something that looks like an active human dwelling. I’ll simply tell you that I spotted everything from really nice tents to mattresses lying in the open and several other makeshift dwellings today, particularly along the river around bridges.

04River-playgroundOn NE 4th just beyond the asphalt mixing operating was a well-used dirt track running up over the flood-control dike and down into the river basin. This is all public land and open to recreational use, but you can see in the sign there are limits (#4), largely unenforced.05Rail-crossing This was my gateway to this day’s off-roading paradise. Just south along the bank from NE 4th stood a rail bridge alongside the remnants of a previous one (#5).

06EagleLakeJust behind me and up over the dike was the NW corner of Eagle Lake. I’ve never been able to see it from this angle. I rode down a rough maintenance track to the far NE corner and aimed my camera back across the lake (#6). I turned around and faced a low spot filled with massive boulders, only some of which I could likely struggle to lift if I cared (#7). 07Not-todayThere was no way I could safely ride across them, and scrambling around I discovered that what was one a continuation of the maintenance track along the western shoreline had crumbled and dissolved into the water, so a full circumnavigation was out of the question. The only safe route crossed private property east of the lake.

08Southbank-hiroadRetracing my path, I turned left and followed the track around to where the Eagle Lake Trail begins and crossed Crooked Oak Creek the fancy bike bridge. But on the other side, I opted to stay up on the top of the flood control dike for awhile. This shot is very similar to one on a previous post, but from a higher angle (#8).09LowerDam-OKRiver I stayed with it awhile until I could see a climb that led through serious messy wet clay, and dropped down onto the official biking path. Staying on this down to the underpass at Eastern Avenue/ML King Boulevard (far right edge of the map) I went up over the dike again to catch a nice shot of the dam works when there was virtually no water to hide it (#9). I probably could have ridden through the shallow water in the bottom of the pan, only about two inches deep, but there was no simple way of getting out it on the other side.

10NorthbankInstead I climbed up the steep bank and rode across on Eastern to the other corner. The that SW corner in the shadow of the Interstate is very busy and bums like to sit there on the side barricade because they can see cops coming from any direction. The fellow today pulled his sign back to let me pass, and just beyond him I lifted my bike over the wall and clambered over after it. I had some fun doing a controlled descent down the bank to the lower path. It looked and felt completely different from the south bank. This shot looks northward at the Reno Avenue crossing (#10 upper right).

11Varied-pathThere are typically three tracks, sometimes merging and crossing, following the top of the dike, the middle flat and the lower one nearest the water. At one point I climbed up under the Interstate ramp because of washouts from a tributary, ending up on the highest level (#11). However, most of the time I stayed down on the lowest track possible. It was just so nice with grass and hard-packed sand, with splendid isolation. Despite the busy highway traffic, I was actually very much alone, in an entirely different world from the drivers and passengers.

12Scalloped-riverbedThis is a low-water time so much of the river bed is exposed and this scalloped pattern caught my eye (#12). I was having such a good time I rode on past NE 4th toward NE 10th. A rather large tributary cuts across the dike and shaped banks. This area sees very heavy ATV traffic, so I followed their well-established routes and found a very easy ford (#13).13Ford Aside from having to dismount for the sake of steepness in soft sand, it was actually rather fun because I was able to ride across the ford itself.

14WakeZoneBut I began to tire and decided to leave the trial after crossing under NE 10th. Once up on the road, I spotted a lake through the trees and remembered seeing something on the map about it: Wake Zone Cable Park (#14 is off the map). They have a bunch of tow cables running all over the place way above the water and you can ride a wakeboard without a boat pulling you. Their website is pretty informative, but visually very busy. Seems to me the satellite imagery indicates there’s a back side that might not be so tightly fenced. Maybe we’ll find out next ride.

On the way home, I discovered that riding through wet grass alongside the street cleans the tires from most of the clinging soil. This is the first time I’ve had a bike that made it fun and feasible. I also tried to skip the traffic by chasing the same unused rail line back toward my neighborhood, but I ran into lots of trouble. No more rail lines for me unless there is an extraordinary good reason. They are not fun any more.

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Ritual Abuse

When you claim it’s your religion to increase human suffering, it’s a demonic cult.

I’m not going to engage here in a long-winded analysis of the whole thing, but it was a fresh wound on my soul and I must cry out. The other day I ran into someone I’ve known for some years. He really needed a touch of mercy and I gave what I could. In this case, it was a moment to listen and commiserate over his sad tale. His family has pretty much cast him aside and there aren’t many people who seem to care about him. He’s near my age and has been through some fairly serious medical troubles, but he’s been a substance abuser, too. All of us have our own idolatries, so it’s just a moral question of what mercy we have to offer, not the relative evil we might assign to one idolatry over another.

The final grudging “help” his family offered was sending him to one of those “Christian” youth-oriented rehab programs. I’ve yet to see one that isn’t one of two things: (1) secularized goofball liberalism or (2) based on abusive prison psychology. This particular program was the latter, and it did him not an ounce of good.

You might be aware of how such a program is the ultimate example of dehumanizing and degrading in an effort to change bad habits. The program assumes the worst and there is virtually no real effort to reach out to wandering souls, only lock them down and push them through some curriculum that represents the worst of grouchy Anglo-Saxon iron discipline. On another level, they charge unconscionable fees and invest almost nothing back into the clients. It’s quite profitable, because you can find dozens in almost any city of any size, and quite a few out in the boonies where it’s even more isolating. It encourages moral degenerates who enjoy abusing people to claim they are doing God’s work.

That his family felt this was in his best interest serves to indicate the awful dysfunction they share. Don’t tell me our social culture isn’t rotten to the core. God help us.

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Answering 09: An Application

“Truth makes its own path.”

I have no idea where I heard that; I know I didn’t read it because there’s a voice attached to the memory. It’s not how I would say it, but it’ll do. I want to offer an example of how we use moral sanity to discern human activity. We can watch it and be right in the middle of it without offering any loyalties except to our God.

There is absolutely no need to silence a lie from the human level where lies are spouted. Feel free to spew your deception all day long. The only people taken in by it will be those who would never listen to God in the first place. When someone develops a sensitivity to their convictions, even if they are intellectually inclined to agree with a narrative that’s false, something inside stirs up a dissent. Neurosis, and even forms of psychosis, result from fighting your own convictions. Don’t wonder why organized religion is filled with wackos.

It’s the same with politics, in that organized religion is largely politics. The problem is not that humans are political; it’s that we refuse to do it well. Our political efforts bear no relation to moral truth and the hard-wired reality of what actually works in this world.

Here’s a minor example: Gamergate is not dead. The SJW (Social Justice Warrior) crowd insists on silencing the opposition by every means possible in order to assert their perverted morals. Not that gamer morals are any better, just different, and both sides are hideously wrong. However, the SJWs are frankly stupid. To attack the gamers on Twitter by disabling gamers’ use kills Twitter. The one virtue of gamers is that they don’t attempt to silence dissent.

So in this case, the contextual truth of things is that gamers are a major element in prosperity in the virtual world. If you want big profits from your online ventures, you had damn sure better not alienate gamers if you claim to be open to the public. Gamers are virtually indiscernible from the people who created the Internet and keep it working. Computers are ignorant of the content of traffic, but the geeks who make it work are real people with a real bias that is not hard to understand. In that sense, the Internet as a whole is hardly neutral. They aren’t inclined to block anything they don’t like, but will certainly retaliate if someone blocks them, and you won’t be able to ignore them.

So go ahead and market your SJW games and tell me how that crap sells. Nobody is more intolerant than an SJW, not to mention being intolerable themselves. They are actually a tiny group with increasingly rabid fantasies that represent the extreme fringe trying to seize the center by realigning the entire universe. Reality is whatever they imagine it to be; just ask them. Though many of those in power have been seduced to join this insanity, reality will eventually vomit them out into the void.

The only reason gamers bother responding is that the take-down is entertaining to them. The process of crushing the SJWs is like any other strategy game, and gamers win. But the gamers are not virtuous except within the boundaries of the virtual world they created. They are the “gods” of the Internet. The SJWs are gods only in their own minds, having built or created nothing at all. They are the Devil and his demons on the Internet, creating nothing, only perverting everything they touch.

And while our God trumps the Internet demigods entirely, even on their own turf, the SJWs don’t represent His interests in any way. Whatever their deity, it exists only in their blighted imaginations. You and I have nothing to fear from gamers. We are no threat to the network demigods and there is no entertainment value in attacking us.

Mysticism trusts in the power of God to promote His message. We are along for the ride, but if it doesn’t fill us with joy, then we are dead weight. God delights in our delight over His truth. That’s the whole reason for including us in the first place. The payoff is entirely personal. We hold the potential for bringing Him joy; that’s how we bless Him. It’s not a question of us carrying His truth wherever we go, it’s a question of sniffing out His truth and going there. It’s not precisely the same for each of us, and it kills the joy when we insist someone else has to be our clone. How could you imagine joy trying to control someone else? It’s a jarring disharmony to think in that direction; you can’t call it “joy” any more.

You can’t kill someone else’s joy, only your own, and only after you embrace death as your god.

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Cycling: Baptism

ScreenshotActually I hate “mudding” but I am glad it’s do-able. Today’s ride seems to call for a map. Click the map to enlarge (CTRL-click for a new browser tab) and please note the lavender digits representing each shot that follows in numerical order. The idea was to poke around the edges of the former Glenwood addition that the Air Force bought and turned into a training area, but also because they needed an empty crash zone for aircraft in trouble. I will note that the bogus FEMA Camp stories insist that the actual fenced in reservation is one of the sites listed for such use. Fat chance.

Jeanette’s maiden voyage was very messy. Between rain sessions today I went out for a ride.End-o-line It wasn’t a long ride, just a couple of miles from my residence, but I’m no longer riding to “work out.” I ride simply to play and cleanse my soul a little. Exercise happens, but not as a goal. The entry point was just across SE 15th (north edge of the map) from our Barnes Park Trails area. I simply shot across the street and jumped the curb into a green area that was cleared last year. This map is way out of date, but useful.Hidden-facility I went across the wooded area just west of the feature labeled “Buddy’s Produce” in white letters. Map symbols indicate the last section of tracks to be used for anything at all some years ago. I basically followed those tracks and the first photo shows what it looked like. I found a zig-zag path between the trees and shrubs in that picture (#1) and came across this storage facility (#2). There was really nowhere else to go, so I retraced my path back up the tracks and came out on the road in front of Buddy’s Produce (just off the map on the north edge).

To the east of the Midwest City Sanitation Department is a public drive back to the recycling dump and it’s on a bit of high ground way above the Soldier Creek. That’s the primary water feature that runs all over the eastern quarter of the map, draining from south to north. The old neighborhood is fenced off on high ground, rather hard to pick out on the map, leaving a large eastern belt that is under periodic commercial development.Distant-view This aerial photo is about three years old and doesn’t show the health-care park east of the creek, only some red soil scraped of vegetation. I rode across the now paved portion of that and out into the grass, which turned out to be growing in very fresh leveling soil — soppy red clay. Jeanette moved nicely in low gear, but she was encrusted with thick gobs of it by the time I wandered back toward the more civilized parking lots along that far eastern edge of the map. I stopped at this apron and decided not to go back out into that mud pond again. Just to the left in that shot (#3) is a tributary running down to Soldier Creek.

End-o-roadAs I headed south along Douglas, there was yet more fresh development under way, and I had to dodge a lot of fresh excavation mud. By riding along the street in the grass, I managed to shed the worst of the caked red goop, so I was ready to avoid any fresh additions. Beyond that was a drive way running back west. There’s a lot of that industrial park stuff in there and I jumped off into a grassy area well packed by motor vehicle traffic until I ran across that circle at the north end of Global Parkway.Down-n-swamp The next shot (#4) was aimed westward from there. I ran into a bit more mud, but discovered a well-hidden recreation area in the low flat ground near the creek where the tributary runs into it. Swamp-trackTurning north I followed a badly washed out jeep trail that ended near the water (#5), but turned sharply left and back into a little opening. There were signs of camping, but not recent.

Backing out, I noticed plenty of little four-wheeler trails spidering out into the woods at intervals. I took one to see if they went anywhere (#6). It split between two routes running parallel to the banks of the creek and looked like fishing spots, but currently so overgrown I was getting slapped and no pictures were possible. I came back out to the jeep trail and climbed a slow rise southward, which was along the back fence of a ratty old trailer park (east of my #6), what’s left of the merging of Dimick and Edgewood Parks, keeping the latter name on the sign. My paternal grandmother lived there for years. When we left Alaska in 1973, I flew down and stayed with her a while to get started in my senior year of high school while my parents slowly slogged down the Al-Can Highway with our household goods in two pickups and a very long open trailer. Most of what was Dimick Park is now woodland. So heading back south brought me out onto SE 29th (off the map on the southern edge).

That VOR beacon is a funny white dot on a gravel road in the open grassy area there in the aerial shot. I stayed off the street and rode through the Air Force’s grass along SE 29th to the curvy street (Palmer Drive) that stays outside the eastern fence line.

Former-GlenwoodI bumped into a former neighbor from the trailer park in Choctaw. He had left when his mom died and he was having a rough life. Pray for my friend Larry, because the rest of his family has cast him off. He refused to stay in a “Christian rehab” house that uses the worst of prison discipline. I could write a book about that awful practice. The last thing that man needs is more abuse. We chatted a bit while I stopped in a puddle in the pavement and reduced my mud load by about five pounds. I rode on with a somewhat less jolly frame of mind. I stopped where Palmer crosses the old Grumman Drive on the map and took this last shot of the day (#7). The sign does not restrict photography as it would if there were sensitive facilities nearby. Yeah, a potential FEMA camp (snork, snork).

I zig-zagged my way through the back streets to my apartment and gave Jeanette a bath and some fresh lube. I have no intention of mudding again if I can avoid it, but it’s good to know we’re up to it as a team. Oh, and I’m accumulating future PayPal donations until I can get a really good digital camera.

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A Sacrifice

I have made choices while deeply absorbed into a world of moral folly. Consequently, my choices were foolish, taking place outside the boundaries of my calling and covenant with Christ. Some of them resulted in permanent changes that I never foresaw, stuff I live with to this day, and more coming. A few of those consequences God redeemed by miraculous changes. Those changes came because they serve to enhance the fundamental value of my testimony of God’s glory.

What serves His glory is simply the fulfillment of my reason for living; it is, by definition, in my best interest. To imagine an interest in anything outside His glory is the doorway to Hell.

There is a sense in which Our Father respects our choices, though. Going back to start over and recover the potential of all He offered is not consistent with His glory for reasons that require you understand His divine character. I can’t explain it, and asking the question is a waste of time. So the net result is that I take the calling He offers that excludes a whole lot of blessings I could have had, but will now never know in this life. I placed myself into an alternative sequence of possible and probable events, as the expression goes, and God still has a plan to use me despite my silly choices.

But part of His use for me includes redemption by taking better options along the path into the future. That I am aware of the moral optimum of what might-have-been and should-have-been serves to teach me that I should listen better. Departing Eden didn’t change Creation; it changed our ability to cooperate with Creation. We no longer have that wide open moral instinct to do what’s consistent with reality. We are forced to guess, and if we don’t activate the heart-mind connection, our guesses won’t make a whole lot of difference eternally — all of them will be wrong because the whole thing rests in the wrong place. But with the heart-mind on the throne of moral decision, I can do a lot better.

And my heart reminds me constantly of things I could have had but can’t go back to reclaim. I testify to the verity of that thing even if I can’t claim all of it for myself. This is a tension that we cannot leave behind because it is fundamental to our fallen existence. It’s a part of the time-space constraints that constitute a significant symptom of the Fall. We can’t simply choose to take our awareness and go back in time to restart some process that turned out wrong. I can only strive to recover what’s left. Part of what’s left is my prophetic calling.

Even that requires the moral consideration of things on multiple threads, something foreign to our cultural mythology. Moral choices are not linear and certainly not restricted to one thread of consideration. There are multiple parallel threads that do not necessarily jive with each other in my human reason. There is no single logically clean and perfect choice anywhere. His divine will for me is not that simple; it requires a certain kind of artistry that is far more than artistry. Faith is its own thing, with its own unique kind of virtuosity that we exercise far above any mere mental awareness. Nothing that I, or any other human, or all of us together, could express that moral truth with clarity or depth that a mind can absorb and process.

Net result: My calling and my sense of peace with God requires that I live in an urban environment and do my best to ignore all the problems that causes me personally. My fleshly human desires have become aware of all the sweet goodness of living more naturally without all the pollution, but my heart says that would be selfish against the particular calling on my life at this time. I can’t do what I have to do anywhere else; not now. This is not meant to portray me as some noble, saintly martyr, nor someone seeking a cynical excuse to wallow in urban hedonism. And it serves no moral purpose to blame any number of nameless other folks out there for creating this mess through which I must wade. I take this path knowing that it is not optimal to my human health, and not optimal for helping me stay in close communion with God’s Creation.

So instead of lying naked on the ground next to my natural hut in the wilderness, I go outside and touch the highly hybridized shrub that the landscaping service chops into squarish shapes. I ride my bike along paved (and soon unpaved) routes humans make to touch some wilder bit of nature and try to stay away from power lines and cell towers for just a little time now and then. I go outside for brief moments in today’s rainy weather and just feel Creation as best I can in the middle of one of the largest (area-wise) urban expanses in the US. I live below the official poverty line and consume what the grocery store offers within my limited budget, praying that my appetites can be adjusted to come closer to that Edenic ideal within the range of what they have.

If you can do better for yourself, please do. I’ve developed a form of tolerance that I wish upon no one. It includes having seen things I cannot un-see and hope you never see, because I suffer with the visual memories. Would you like to extract human body parts from the wreckage of a motor vehicle? Did you know that freshly ripped human flesh can stink? Those images did not come from God, but from Satan and his torments. I’m not “tough;” I’d rather not have seen such things. They do not ennoble; they are scars from my folly. They represent a vanity of vanities. Shake your head at the marks of my stupidity and know that I am constrained by them. At the same time, don’t waste any pity on my insignificant life. God chose to use me in spite of my idiocies, so let’s celebrate mercy, not human accomplishments. The power to sacrifice self is glorious; the necessity of having to sacrifice is not.

I sacrifice one kind of peace for another that strikes me, and only me, as a moral imperative. And because of that tension from a thousand threads in the moral fabric of reality, I’m always waiting to see if the balance of things in my faith requires a change in priorities.

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Answering Coda: Got Questions?

Let’s back up a moment on the Answering Series. While there is a healthy discussion in the comments section, it’s quite likely some of my readers have questions we haven’t covered. Please feel free to remain anonymous and fill in bogus information in the blanks that request such information on the comment section. As along as I can discern a nickname to call you, I’ll try to take your question or comments seriously. You can also send a private email using the addresses on my “About” page linked in the tab-line above.

Meanwhile, I wanted to offer this quote in passing:

Now, let’s be honest about this. Military service has become a sacrament in these churches; soldiers are the new missionaries, and wounded soldiers are the new martyrs.

(Source.)

Perverting the message and mission of the gospel and churches is what we have come to expect since before the last of the Apostles died. Our God does not wear a uniform or wave flags. Oh, and I write that as a disabled American veteran. The problem is not civic virtue, but conflating it with the Cross of Christ. His throne is in Heaven, not any national capital.

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Cycling: New Toy

bike01-boxArrived today via UPS around 1300 local time. This is probably boring to a lot of folks, but it’s just possible a reader might benefit from my experience some day.bike02-inbox The box was just a bit smaller than I expected, but I discovered that they pack them more tightly these days. The last time I watched someone do this, the seat and handlebars were already mounted. Not now.

And it’s just a little sticky coming out of the box. I could have used an extra pair of hands to push down as I pulled up.bike03-pkng It call came out in one piece except the box containing the pedals. This mess had to be dismantled carefully and I used diagonal pliers (AKA side cutters or dikes) to cut all the heavy zip ties and that cheap mylar tape that you can’t easily break.bike04-unpack So this shot on the left shows everything prior to assembly and somehow it turned out fuzzy.

bike05-halfThe first step was to mount the handlebars in some provisional position, and then the seat. This allows me to invert the thing and have it stand that way while I worked on the tires. They were soft, which was fine, because I had to deflate them anyway.

A couple of issues made it challenging. First, the rims are much narrower than the old 26″ mountain bike stuff. While it didn’t suffer the design flaw that tends to pinch 700c (hybrid bike) tubes around the valve stem, it was still tricky dealing with tires designed to balloon out around the rim that way. I wanted to add some tube liners (AKA thorn straps) to reduce the likelihood of flats. However, the only ones I could get on short notice were pretty narrow. The company sells them for 29″ tires, but they just barely cover the center strip of the tread area that gets all the abuse. The problem is that they didn’t lay inside the tire nicely, tending to shift around while I was putting it back together. I’m not entirely certain they stayed where I wanted them, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll order the wider ones later.

bike06-doneThis is the first time I’ve dealt with disc brakes, but they went in nicely. I found the factory assembler had left the front brake cable in an awkward route, so I had to do my best to find a way to slip it over to the other side of the front end where there was a clip to hold it in place. It’s still a little torqued and curled, but functional. I’ll try to adjust it later.

A couple of other considerations now. The handlebars are lower then I’m used to and I don’t know if it’s going to aggravate my arthritic shoulders and elbows. I can order a riser that should help, but the factory design offers no adjustment for height. I bought two bottle holders because there were holes for them. I’ll get a different style to mount on the seat tube and that’s as much water as I could need even in the heat of summer for long rides. For everything else, I found a way to attach it to my body. This thing is noticeably lighter than the Edgewood and the wheels with tires are just a tad bit bigger in diameter. It’s got a 9-speed rear cassette but is geared lower in the first place, so it means more lower gears than before. The shifters and derailleurs are sweet and the brakes are clearly superior. Oddly, the disc brakes make that same faint rubbing noise the make on cars because they are designed to remain in contact at low pressure. The only thing I really want now is to design a cover for the front derailleur to prevent splash and grit from coming off the rear time onto it.

In honor of the donor, I call her “Jeanette.”

Final note: The old Edgewood went to a friend, a fellow Christian just next door. We were able to make it fit his shorter frame.

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Love Is the Law

I behold the face of my beloved. I seriously doubt you would find it aesthetically pleasing, but you haven’t spent a lifetime in her love, so I can forgive you for that. But I’m willing to bet you would understand how I can gaze on her face and in my mind trace every detail with rapture.

One of my favorite songs offers the following lyrics:

In mirrors I have seen Your face
Your voice can reach me anywhere
And I begin to turn away
And You just turn me back again

And I belong
Yes, I belong
To You, oh Lord my God

(Mylon LeFevre, “I Belong” from Crack the Sky 1987)

For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known. (1 Corinthians 13:12 NKJV)

When you come face-to-face with God, you see yourself as He does, reflected back in His eyes. Both the terror of disappointing Him in our sin and the mercy of His love welcoming us home will you see in His face. Paul says there will be some moment in our future where we experience this in some ultimate sense beyond literal, but that we experience it in some measure even now. When you turn inside yourself, you’ll find God waiting there all along. He wants this for us.

But it takes some doing to get our attention because we are born so deeply distracted. We come into life with a body yelling and screaming for resources to build according to that pattern in our DNA. At some point, we become aware that the world is not a mere extension of those demands, but that it has its own will. That’s when we discover our will, too. A critical element of human consciousness is what behavioral science calls “individuation” — an awareness of ego and boundaries. If we are fortunate, this eventually results in some intellectual development, but working from our resources alone, that’s where it ends.

It is not enough. We may believe our senses and reason provide sufficient answers; our intellect assumes it is sufficient for all that matters. It is not. The intellect did not make the world, so it cannot discern the full essence of things. It requires input from the One who did make the things we encounter in our world. It requires revelation.

God granted that revelation. He did so on His own terms, based on His expertise in how things actually work. But that’s not all; as time wore on He continued that conversation of revelation with humanity. He responds. And the initial encounter for humans tends to be in terms of His Law Covenants. It’s “law” in the sense of personal demands regarding the entire realm He owns. His character is the ultimate Law, but we must transition from our moral blindness to His face, such that we are able to bear the terror of His face and receive the mercy. We were designed for that, but something happened to destroy that natural communion.

The destruction of our natural state in communion with Him was in asserting the conscious reason as master over the moral will. In my writing, I use the image of the heart as the higher moral faculty, and that the intellect must learn to obey the heart. The Fall includes breaking that linkage, though it is far more than that. The point is that we were created with a full awareness of the Creator’s moral character as the essence of how to live, but we lost that direct awareness and must gain it back. And it’s not easy nor simple. The first step is an awareness of His Law Covenants.

The Law Covenants in the Bible manifest His moral character in a limited fashion, providing examples and hints of what life would look like if we understood His character. He built and provided a cultural package for receiving and preserving the understanding of His Law as a part of the Law itself. The message is granted in terms of a particular set of assumptions about reality, assumptions long lost and actively hidden from us today. It’s not enough to translate the words of the Law Covenants, but to embrace the assumptions that go with them.

Assuming we can get folks to grasp that need, we discover a wide variation in the human talents necessary to do this quickly. In other words, most folks need some help because they are slow at absorbing the whole thing. Those who can run are obliged to come back and guide those who crawl. Some of us quickly discover that the verbal expression of Laws are not actually the Law itself, because the Law is the character of the Person. Words indicate the path; you are supposed to come face to face with God as close as you can and explore every feature of His Face. And do it often, rather like lovers who can’t get enough of each other.

That intense loving relationship is the essence of the Laws.

Our witness to the world is living the implications of the Law Covenants. They give shape and structure that makes the face of God distinct and recognizable. We can’t make people see His face, but we can certainly walk in His Law Covenants in the sense, not of intellectual abstraction, but in the sense of abstraction on a higher level of the heart and moral conviction.

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