Thursday, August 26, 2004 - Halfway to Corinth in the middle of nowhere
I really wasn’t that disappointed when the monastery was closed. What I want to get from this trip is to bring back ideas from the Grecian way of life and evaluate them against my way of life. I mean we took a bus, to a metro, to a bus, then walked 20 blocks to catch a bus, missed it, bought tyropitas, got on a bus, got off the bus walked two blocks in the middle of nowhere, got on a bus for 2km, got off the bus, walked a block, caught a bus 15km, got off and walked three blocks, sat down on one of the ugliest beaches in an industrial port, and got on a bus back to where we started to wait for a bus to work. For the majority of our adventure, we were surrounded by elderly people. Some had trouble walking. It’s humbling to not be in control. The weirdest part of returning will probably be having the use of a car.
Bryan, a man from the First Baptist Church of Atlanta, made me think today. He asked if Joel and I were trying to share our faith with the people around us. As he came by, I saw his t-shirt with a cross on it. He asked if we wanted a free guide to the Olympics.
I asked him if it was a track. He stopped and asked us if we thought we were good people. I gladly said that we were the paradox of the saint, yet sinner. He kept on asking us questions like what gave us a guarantee of going to Heaven and if we died today, would we go there. After we quoted paraphrased scripture to him, he backed down and started asking us if we had shared the gospel with others and if we were sure that everyone in the Asbury group here was saved. He started saying that people need to be confronted and convicted with the law first before telling them about the love of Christ first.
I thought this sounded very Southern Baptist and a little Calvinist. He began talking about persecution and it being a sign of a godly life. Joel mainly nodded his head in agreement and answered in three word sentences. He started talking about watered down churches in the States. I couldn’t resist throwing in “You mean seeker-sensitive post-modernism.”
He said, “Exactly.”
I told them I was a pastor’s kid and we had just recently moved. He said that my Dad must have been preaching the truth of Scripture, because we were being persecuted by moving. I wanted to say, "Uh, no, it's that churches always blame the pastor first if they add members every year--as if the pastor's supposed to invite all the new visitors." I talked to him about some ministries I was aware of in Atlanta, and he said he’d look into it. Then, he said he had to go make it to the USA-Brazil women’s soccer game. His church had bought him tickets to the game in order to walk around and talk to people. As he walked, I said to myself--at least he's passionate.
It’s the crippled grandmother-widows withered by the everyday wars of living and the unknown bachelor never noticed except when he fusses about the way things used to be that I want to photograph. You know to pause and pray every time you pass a church in the U.S. might not be a bad idea. There’s so many of them and we are always in a hurry.
That reminds me, we randomly ran into a journalist for a Seven-Day Adventist magazine from Norway on the first day here. I gave him my card, but haven’t heard anything from him in over a week. I’ve been burning an apple blossom candle by my bed regularly before I go to sleep. This is mainly because I cannot burn candles in the dorm at school.
~ Stephen
site: http://www.smjdesign.com/
writing: http://www.tpkpoetry.com/
photography: http://www.smjdesign.com/photo/
Bryan, a man from the First Baptist Church of Atlanta, made me think today. He asked if Joel and I were trying to share our faith with the people around us. As he came by, I saw his t-shirt with a cross on it. He asked if we wanted a free guide to the Olympics.
I asked him if it was a track. He stopped and asked us if we thought we were good people. I gladly said that we were the paradox of the saint, yet sinner. He kept on asking us questions like what gave us a guarantee of going to Heaven and if we died today, would we go there. After we quoted paraphrased scripture to him, he backed down and started asking us if we had shared the gospel with others and if we were sure that everyone in the Asbury group here was saved. He started saying that people need to be confronted and convicted with the law first before telling them about the love of Christ first.
I thought this sounded very Southern Baptist and a little Calvinist. He began talking about persecution and it being a sign of a godly life. Joel mainly nodded his head in agreement and answered in three word sentences. He started talking about watered down churches in the States. I couldn’t resist throwing in “You mean seeker-sensitive post-modernism.”
He said, “Exactly.”
I told them I was a pastor’s kid and we had just recently moved. He said that my Dad must have been preaching the truth of Scripture, because we were being persecuted by moving. I wanted to say, "Uh, no, it's that churches always blame the pastor first if they add members every year--as if the pastor's supposed to invite all the new visitors." I talked to him about some ministries I was aware of in Atlanta, and he said he’d look into it. Then, he said he had to go make it to the USA-Brazil women’s soccer game. His church had bought him tickets to the game in order to walk around and talk to people. As he walked, I said to myself--at least he's passionate.
It’s the crippled grandmother-widows withered by the everyday wars of living and the unknown bachelor never noticed except when he fusses about the way things used to be that I want to photograph. You know to pause and pray every time you pass a church in the U.S. might not be a bad idea. There’s so many of them and we are always in a hurry.
That reminds me, we randomly ran into a journalist for a Seven-Day Adventist magazine from Norway on the first day here. I gave him my card, but haven’t heard anything from him in over a week. I’ve been burning an apple blossom candle by my bed regularly before I go to sleep. This is mainly because I cannot burn candles in the dorm at school.
~ Stephen
site: http://www.smjdesign.com/
writing: http://www.tpkpoetry.com/
photography: http://www.smjdesign.com/photo/
posted by Stephen M. James at 7:16 PM
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