thedreadpiratestan's Xanga

Move Along

Tue, 16 Oct 2007 17:46:41 GMT

If you haven't heard, my new xanga page is here: www.songoforpheus.com

please update your links... this page is on its way out.

see you over there!

jr.

In lieu of actual content

Wed, 05 Sep 2007 19:46:06 GMT

In keeping with the tradition established by Darryl, Tom and Jones, I have a new xanga page and a new post coming soon...

but for now, behold Penny Arcade:

The Other Brother

Fri, 24 Aug 2007 15:38:12 GMT

     In Matthew 5:21-22, Jesus equates hate, insult and name-calling with murder. For a long time, I just accepted the common explanation that Jesus is "reinterpreting" the Law, pushing for a "deeper" understanding of "what God really meant". As I blogged several days ago, however, I am beginning to see that Jesus was reading the Law through the lens of love defined as self-sacrifice. Thus, all commandments must be reexamined through that lens. And so what of "Thou shalt not murder"?
     What is murder, exactly? In his compelling analysis of the Cain and Able myth, Volf argues (quite persuasively) that Cain murders Abel because he refuses to redefine himself. Able is the quintessential nothing - he is the second son, he is a shepherd, even his name means something like "vapor". Cain, on the other hand is strong. He is a farmer, the first son, strong and able (hahaha, get it?). For no good reason we can see, God chooses Abel. God. Chooses. Abel. Cain cannot accept this; the very fact of Abel's existence now calls his own understanding of himself into question. And, rather than reevaluate himself, Cain chooses to remove that which caused him existential dissonance. He strikes down his brother, the Other, thereby allowing him to maintain his identity unchanged.
     If we allow this story to be paradigmatic for understanding the process of murder (and I know it's not going to be 100%, so let's agree not to get caught up in the details), I think this sheds some interesting light on Jesus' comments. Murder arises from a challenge to the integrity of our Selfs. So too I suggest do hate, insult and labeling. Rarely do we hate something that does not affect us; apathy is a much commoner response to these nonentities. Our hatred arises from that which is a challenge to our Selves. Consider, for example, racism in the States - the races that bore the brunt of race-based hatred (Irish, Italian, African, etc) were always those races whose proximity to the dominant culture forced those in power to question and to reevaluate their assumptions about what made them human. We have a tendency toward self-preservation and stability; it seems to be human nature to lash out in anger against that which threatens us. Insult and labeling are public means by which we can consign the Other to safe categories that no longer threaten us.
     And so I can see why Jesus considers murder, hatred, name-calling and labeling to be related. They are really all symptoms of the same problem: our tendency to objectify and dehumanize that which threatens our Selfs, our identities. Jesus calls us to lay down our Selfs in favor of embracing the Other. If we cannot allow the Other into our Selfs, to challenge and reshape us, then we will never be able to allow God, who is entirely more Other than any human, to enter into us, to shape us and to change us. Perhaps this is what Jesus means when he teaches us a few verses later to pray, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us," and then follows that with, "If you do not forgive sin here on Earth, neither will your Father forgive your sins in heaven." We are not in a place to accept God's forgiveness, to repent, unless we can learn how to do the same down here. Only the peacemakers are called children of God.
     And let's not reduce this to cause-effect. We miss the point if we pull a magic formula, a one-to-one correlation between forgiveness on Earth and forgiveness in Heaven. Rather, we learn to be forgiven, to live as the forgiven, in the kingdom of Heaven that is coming to Earth, even as we learn to forgive sin here on Earth.
"Dead man, is it being high that makes you alive, that makes you leave behind three boys and a wife? ...As the track marks work their way up your arm, my mother taught my brothers and I not to call you 'Daddy', but to call you 'Father'. And I believe there is something here to be learned of Grace, 'cause I can't help but love you."
-- "The Widow", As Cities Burn

The Public Spectacle <inspiried by today's sermon>

Sun, 19 Aug 2007 16:47:48 GMT

Colossians 2:15 "Jesus disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them."

     In the ancient world, victorious armies made 'public spectacles' of their defeated opponents. These spectacles involved parading the defeated soldiers and generals through the main center of the town, naked and shackled, humiliated and utterly defeated, trailing behind the glorious, victorious, conquering army dressed all in white and reds, mounted or marching proudly. The cultural effects of this sort of parade cannot be missed: the victors are strong, unconquerable, glorious. The enemy is weak, defenseless and beaten. The Other is unable to stand before the We.
     As I read Paul's words in Colossians, I thought of Jesus' parade through the streets of Jerusalem. I thought of how he was tried as a traitor to Rome and condemned as a rabble-rouser, an insurrectionist, for daring to claim kingship of a kingdom other than Rome. For this crime, Rome reserved its most heinous, brutal, and humiliating punishment: execution by crucifixion. Jesus was tortured, then stripped naked and strapped to a crossbeam. Led by brightly dressed, exquisitely disciplined Roman soldiers, he was paraded through the town and out of the city, then hung naked from a cross for all to see until he died. Rome's message was clear: see, Judea, your king, your messiah. We have made a public spectacle of your savior, your christ. Such a pitiable thing cannot stand before the glory of Rome. Rome is mighty. Rome is powerful. And because of this, Rome is glorious. Rome is able and willing to strike down all who dare to dream of another kingdom, for Rome is eternal. See the consequences of your folly. See and worship Rome. This is Rome's parade. This is Rome's spectacle.
     But Easter Sunday revealed Rome's spectacle to be Jesus' spectacle, God's spectacle. Rome did not take Jesus; Jesus gave himself. Rome did not torture Jesus; Jesus submitted to Rome.   Rome did not lead Jesus down the city streets to display his weakness; Jesus gave himself to the soldiers to expose the ultimate failings of Roman justice - the innocent are punished, the oppressed are destroyed, and evil assaults good. In Jesus' parade, Rome is seen to be a sad caricature of God. Where Rome flaunts its power and might, God offers arms spread in love. Where Rome crushes those who are it enemies, God submits to them and dies for them so that God may redeem them. In submitting to the violence and death-consumed politics of the "rulers and authorities", Jesus subverts them and turns their spectacle back upon themselves, revealing them for the ineffectual parodies they are.
     And, of course, he ultimately triumphs over them. By inverting their spectacle, Jesus (re)creates a new possibility for humanity. No longer must we abide by the laws of "philosophies and empty deceits according to human tradition and the elemental spirits of the world" as Paul says earlier (2:8). Rather, we are free to live in a community conformed not to the world, but transformed into the image of Jesus himself. We call this community the Church, and as his body, Jesus has invited us into his Parade. As Rodney Clapp has elaborated, our communal worship is to be the time when we as the Body of Christ join together and participate in Jesus' Parade of the Cross. We are to come together and affirm (through the songs we sing, through the sacraments we observe, through the teachings we hear and discuss, through the prayers we pray, etc.) the Way of Jesus rather than the way of the world. We are to remind ourselves (and the world in which we live) on at least a weekly basis of the radical way Jesus triumphed over the rulers and authorities of this world. We are to join with Jesus in becoming a public spectacle that will expose the violence and evil of the world for what it is.

     How often do our worship services do this? That is, how often do we engage in Parades that challenge the ways of the world? And how often do we allow our Parades to become nothing more than reinforcements of the violence, opulence and oppression that so characterizes our "Christian Nation"? I think of our Independence Day services, of our Battle Hymns of the Republic and crying out, "Onward, Christian Solder, marching as to War, with the Cross of Jesus going on before". I think of these and wonder what we plan to do with that cross that goes before us. Do we plan to die on it? Or are we, as Rome, going to crucify the Other so that We can feel strong?

     May we remember that ultimate Other, who "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave... and became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." He "was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross." This is what true Glory looks like. And that's something Rome cannot understand.

What new mystery is this? What blessed backwardness? The Immeasurable One is held and does not resist. Struck by wicked words and foolish fits of senseless men, the Almighty One does not defend. -- mewithoutYou

The Center Can Hold

Fri, 17 Aug 2007 18:11:20 GMT

I haven't blogged in over two weeks. I used to think times like this were a sad rarity, but I seem to be doing less and less these days. Thus, I promise to blog at least once weekly... I feel that I truly need the outlet, and this is the best way to stay in touch with some of you who matter greatly to me.

     As promised, I want to take some time to reflect on my observations of Guatemalan culture from the brief time I was there (one month ago) and then combine that with some of the lessons God has been (re)teaching me of late.
     Guatemala is a nation of instability. Culturally, they are an amalgam of Mayan and Spanish cultures. Spanish is the dominant language, but most Quiche (the native term of self-identification) also speak at least one Mayan dialect. Surprisingly (to me at least), none of the Guatemalans complained of any racial tensions. Rather, they to a person affirmed that the greatest tensions were socio-economic. The gap between rural and urban, and to a greater degree, rich and poor, is enormous. An entire subculture of women live in the city dump of Guatemala City, prostituting themselves for food and raising children in the city dump. The government is almost entirely ineffectual in addressing the myriad social problems, in part because most of the government officials are corrupt (imagine that) and in part because the tiny country boasts over 30 distinct political parties. Their adverts are pasted and painted everywhere, and I can't recall more than a handful that did not libel some opposing party while praising their own candidates. No single party (or even group of parties) enjoys reelection. The citizens feel no party loyalty, tending to vote according to the party that promises what they want. Unfortunately, the terms short, but not nearly so short as the level of cooperation among the parties, so no elected official can manage to accomplish anything while in office. Because no promises were fulfilled, he (always he and never she, I observed) will not be reelected and a new party will step into the vacancy to being anew. Meanwhile, the problems only get worse.
     As for religion, I observed four groups. While no Mayan religion exists today, several forms have been synchronized with Catholicism (including one whose crucifix bears a black Christ!) to form the largest group in the country. The largest churches I saw belonged to the Pentecostal churches, and then of course were the Baptists (at whose conference I was speaking), who did not enter into the country until the 1980s. In addition to these three groups are a growing atheistic demographic who find the Church to be increasingly irrelevant. I had the greatest chance to interact with the Baptists (obviously) and I found my time with them to be very instructive.
     Many of the ministers with whom I interacted are first- or second-generation native minsters. Their churches are barely 20 years old and they are a small denomination. They have become a part of the national evangelical alliance, which is politically neutral, but well-respected and oft-courted by the various political groups. Many ministers, however, are regularly frustrated by the lack of education and the lack of value of education. I was surprised at how the churches (and the conflicts in those churches) mirror the churches in which I grew up and with which I occasionally interact still today. Many Quiche churches are clinging to traditions that (for them) are not even a generation old as tenaciously as any tradition-laden Baptist church here in the States. Many of them are afraid or unwilling to try anything that is not like "the way we do it."
     And this is really a deeper problem than I think we're willing to admit. John Ortberg has commented that the source of the conflict between Jesus and the Pharisees was a fundamental disagreement about how to understand the Law and Prophets [the Bible, if you will (and you should)]. The Pharisees were concerned to maintain the holiness of Israel in the face of Gentile occupation of the Holy Land. They read the Bible as a source of social identity through social boundary-marking. They used the Law to help them determine who was "in" and who was "out". Jesus, however, wasn't interested in where the borders are drawn, what's around the outside. Jesus was concerned with what's at the center - "Seek first the Kingdom of Heaven and his righteousness, and all these things [about which we worry] will be added to you." Jesus read the Bible, he interacted with the Father (and as a result with those around him) through a lens of love, which is self sacrifice ("Greater love has no one, that that s/he would lay down his/her life for a friend").
     As Ortberg comments, "Jesus consistently focused on people's center: Are they oriented and moving toward the center of spiritual life (love of God and people), or are they moving away from it? This is why he shocked people by saying that many religious leaders - who observed all the recognized boundary markers - were in fact outside the kingdom of God. And this si why Jesus could say that "the tax collectors and the prostitutes' who were a million miles away from the religious subculture, but who had turned, converted and oriented themselves toward God and love, were already in the kingdom."
     I see a lot of Christians these days who still insist that being a believer is a matter of what books we read, music we hear, people with whom we associate and on and on and on. While we've roundly rejected the holiness code God gave us in the scriptures, we've had no problem creating one of our own.
     But as a wise and beloved friend of mine said, "Jesus told us it's not what goes in that makes us unclean. It's what comes out."

So... what comes out? Is it clean or unclean? Or, perhaps better phrased, does what comes out of us look more like Jesus today than it did yesterday?

Summer Camp's Never Been So...

Fri, 27 Jul 2007 17:11:59 GMT

Hi Everyone.

I'm in South Carolina, at Charleston Southern University.

I must apologize for my lack of relevant posts. Please accept this IOU, to be filled next week, at some point.

IOU
1. Final Guatemala post, including my reflections on the religio-political climate of the county and a chronicle of my appeasement of the Amoebas who made the return trek with me
2. An update on my Summer Camp experience, which is by way of gross understatement, an utterly different experience from last year (and not in a great way).

For now, a thought:

Many American believers cannot conceive of a world without war because they cannot conceive of a world in which America could sustain and protect itself non-violently. The problem with this idea is that believers who live in America are not bound to preserve American ideals. We do not see this because we do not hear the language Jesus, Paul and the other NT writers used to be as highly politically-charged as it was. Jesus called his followers to be a part of a new kingdom, complete with a new king and new citizenship requirements. Until we begin to think of ourselves as owing primary political allegiance to God and not to America, we cannot live out our call to grow the Kingdom of Heaven as effectively as we might.

And now your thoughts?

Days Two and Three: Quetzaltenango

Fri, 20 Jul 2007 01:08:38 GMT

So it's actually my last night in Guatemala, but in the interests of not having the longest post in the history of Xanga, I'm posting only updates from Tues and Wed, the days of the conference. I'll finish tomorrow. The pics should be up on the website shortly after this post is up. Check on them, they're great!!

Guatemala Day II

Even though I don’t have internet access tonight (the hotel lost power in the middle of dinner and that apparently shut it down), I’m typing this up so I forget as little as possible. I have been amazed so far this trip… at the hospitality and love I’ve received from the people here. I FREAKING LOVE THIS COUNTRY! I’ll spare you pictures in the post, but they’re in my photo album, so check them out. I got some great shots.

I was awakened this morning by Paul, my roommate, like this: “JR., it’s after 6:30.” We were supposed to pack and leave and 6:45. Panic set it. I needed desperately to shave and shower. Plus I was sure I’d set my alarm for 6 am! Paul left the room and I staggered over to my pile of stuff. My watch is analogue, and I don’t trust myself early in the morning, but I could have sworn it read “5:34”. I checked my (digital) cell phone. Sure enough… 5:34. I poked my head outside (as I was still in my boxers). “Hey Paul, did you set your watch back an hour?”

“What?”

“Um… your watch. Did you set it back for the hour we lost coming here?”

“We lost an hour coming here?”

“I’m going back to bed.” Which I did. And was awakened again, twenty-six minutes later, by my alarm. I shaved, showered and brushed (with bottled water), and then proceeded to load my suitcase into an 11-ish passenger Mitsubishi van (which only holds 8 with the back seat down for luggage). And eight of us there were, so there was just enough room. (I’ve quickly learned that the average American is MUCH taller than the average Guatemalan. Cars are constructed accordingly). We set out from Guatemala City towards Quetzaltenango.

I learned en route that the national bird is the Quetzal, as is the national currency. I inquired after this and learned that the bird is a red-breasted fowl who is said to have obtained its color from the blood of a Mayan king who was killed for standing up to the Spanish. Don’t ask me to explain it, but I found the idea of that sort of resistance to tyranny being woven right into the national mythology to be very inspirational. More so perhaps because this particular nation hasn’t cast off tyranny in order to make a hash of the rest of the world (and really, the Stamp Tax wasn’t exactly tyrannical. Our illustrious founding fathers were quite fond of exaggerating the facts to suit their political interests… one more tradition that lives on even today).

We ate at a local traveler’s restaurant in which I had a Guatemalan breakfast the name of which I can’t recall (though it started with a “ch”). Eggs, salsa, cheese, and fried bananas (bananas separate from everything else). FANTASTICO! I sat on the end of the table between Carlos, our driver and executive secretary of the Guatemalan Baptist Convention, and David, whom he is mentoring. As we sat down, David looked at me, then at my ears and did the most noticeable double-take I’ve ever seen. Then he smiled at me a bit uncomfortably and motioned for me to sit, which I did. Neither David nor Carlos speaks English. I hablo NO Espanol. We had a GREAT time anyway! I found that in a very limited number of conversational settings, I can make myself understood.

Back on the road, I quizzed Carlos through Gary (our trip leader and interpreter) about youth ministry in Guatemala. The main problem here seems to be that youth find Church boring and irrelevant and when youth ministers (nearly all of whom are volunteer and often youth themselves) try to innovate, older adults shut them down. It’s good to know that some things are universal.

We arrived around 1 at the Bella Luna Hotel and had an excellent lunch with the pastors. I met Carol, who also works for the convention and speaks pretty good English. I also met Otto, who was to be my interpreter for the night, and Pastor Roger, at whose church I was to speak. As the conference began, I sat down with Otto to go over my talks. We got to know each other, reviewed my talks and then he shifted and said, “I don’t want to offend you, but has anyone talked to you about your earrings?” I laughed and took them out – I’m not sure if they make me look gay or like a gangbanger (which is what tattoos mean down here – so long-sleeves for me this week!), but I didn’t want to chance it.

Turns out that while everyone else stayed at Bella Luna, I got back in the 11 passenger van with 12 Guatemalans and drove across town to a youth rally. I can’t describe to you how awesome was the feeling of being the only American around for miles and being utterly unable to communicate any but the most basic of concepts without help. I loved it! I just sat back, very cramped, and enjoyed the ride, grinning from ear to ear.

A youth opened my first session with prayer. After “Amen”, he began singing a song, eyes still closed and was quickly joined by those gathered. He finished the first verse and I thought, “Wow, what a cool way to end a prayer!” Then he started the second verse. And the third. By the time verse eight had rolled around, I had absolutely no idea what was going on, but felt obligated to keep my head down/eyes closed like everyone else, though I desperately wanted to understand this odd phenomenon. Otto, my interpreter, finally cut him off. No big deal – no one seemed to mind at all. Through Otto, I shared with the youth and youth workers my thoughts on youth ministry and how to solve some of the problems they saw. We had a great time of discussion, and I really feel like I’m prepared to speak to the pastors tomorrow. Then back in the van, back across town for dinner and back to the church for a worship service. We sang in Spanish for a good 30 minutes – Revelation 7:9 came to mind right before I noticed the words “Si, Senior, Si, Si Senior, Si Senior, Si, Si Senior, Si Senior, Si, Si, Senior, Amen!” I sang the rest of “Trading My Sorrows” in English along with everyone else in Spanish and felt even more a part of that countless multitude than ever.

I was the speaker for the evening, so Otto and I tag-teamed it again. He is an amazing interpreter, and was at least as funny and passionate as I was trying to be, if not more. I did manage to make him laugh at one joke before he translated it, which made me feel good. The talk seems to have been well-received (though I didn’t know what anyone was saying). The pastor asked me to come back next year and the night ended with hugs all around. Then 13 Guatemalans and I piled back into the van and returned to Bella Luna one last time. I requested that tomorrow we pile in and go driving around, just because otherwise I’ll miss it. This suggestion was met with a hearty “Vaminos!” which I think means “Let’s go!”

Also, for those of you who know Clark Dalrymple, I met his Guatemalan twin down here. More to come tomorrow… thanks for reading my whole update… more to come Manana!

Guatemala Day III

Today started with an early breakfast at 7:00. Once again, I sat with only Spanish-speakers and communicated primarily with sign-language. A guy named Yeffrey and I swapped videos and music on our cell phones (Bluetooth, fortunately, is the same in any language), and I amused him and Hugo by singing along to Eminem’s “Lose Yourself”.

Session one was on Conflict Resolution, and I spoke half the time. I moved quickly and then Randall, a pastor from Eldon, finished off the session. It went remarkably well. During the break, a woman I met yesterday named Theresa came up and asked to take a picture with me. When I obliged, a table-full of women giggled like so many school girls. We checked out of our rooms, and on the way back into the conference center, the one girl from the giggly table who seemed near to my age passed me and said something in Spanish (it must have been polite, because she smiled).

After the break, I had 90 minutes to talk about Youth Ministry. Apparently one of the major struggles youth face in Guatemala is that older people in their churches don’t like them to try anything innovative or different (sounds familiar…). I challenged the ministers and leaders to look at the youth culture as a mission field and as a “new wineskin” that requires new approaches. I even dared to suggest that they allow their youth to host events that are not specifically bible studies. At the end of the time, I opened up for questions, and we discussed for over 30 minutes. (One pastor asked how we could let Rock Music into the Church when the very beat of the music conjures demons. At this point, I was tempted to roll up my sleeves – exposing many of my tattoos, and shout, “You want to talk about demons!?” But I did not.) Despite this, we had a very fruitful discussion and I really hope many of the pastors were able to take away useful ideas. Carlos and I are already brainstorming ideas for the next conference. Overall, I had very positive responses to my talks, and I feel incredibly blessed to have been able to participate in such an experience. I can’t wait to come back!

I came in for lunch and the same girl from earlier flagged me to her table. I sat down and discovered that no one spoke English except for the man on the other side of me (who was the “Rock music summons demons” question guy, and who had lived in Queens for 15+ years). I alternated between having surprisingly pleasant conversation with him and amusing the other half of the table with my painful attempts at Spanish. At one point, they all started laughing and talking excitedly to (or about?) me. I began smiling and nodding (which until today has been my stock “I don’t know what’s happening” behavior). Then the girl next to me (whose name was – I’m not kidding – Lucky) hooked her arm around mine, drinking glass in hand, to pose for a picture (which should be in the album). By this time, quite a crowd had gathered around the table, and one of the other guys in my group whispered in my ear, “Don’t let your wife see that picture” (Clearly, we had not discussed marital status on the trip).

So here’s the moral of the story: I think I got married in Guatemala today. To a woman named Lucky. At least she seems nice… We’re starting out with a commuter marriage. I think we’ll communicate primarily via email.

The closing ceremony followed, in which we were all given Morrales, which are colorful purses worn by men in Guatemala. So when you see me carrying it around, yes, it is a purse. But it’s okay because it’s foreign. We said our goodbyes and loaded up in the van (only 8 of us, plus luggage this time) and left Quetzaltenango for Solala. This approximately 100 km/60 mi trip took us FOUR HOURS. Third World Travel Math 1100: Mountains + clouds + rain + terrible roads = one really long trip.

We arrived at a missionary house in Solala where we are staying tonight. Just after we settled in, the power went out in the whole city. Which means no dinner (and it’s already 8:00 pm). We had set out to order pizza when the power came back on, so we went out to a local spot. I had some sort of chicken (again). And it was fantastic (again). Today, I learned a lot about the Guatemalan political and religious systems, which I’ll most likely discuss tomorrow. For now, I’m off to bed… nite nite all! I hope to find some internet tomorrow… :)

All my bags are still packed...

Tue, 17 Jul 2007 02:40:32 GMT

I´m here in Guatemala City. We´re spending the night at the Baptist Theological Seminary here. I am pretty impressed by how much Spanish I can figure out just by reading. But conversation, while I can follow, is a little tricky (a lot tricky).

Highlight of the trip thus far:

1) on the 1 hour flight from Lambert to Dallas: plenty of room to sit, carryon under seat, no children. On 3 hour flight form Dallas to Guatemala: sitting by window next to guy with broader shoulders than I, carryons must be stowed in overhead compartment (read: no access to beef jerky), and small child screaming and throwing fits directly behind me. The best part? When she stomped her feet, it was on the back of my chair. Over and over. Where was mom? Asleep next to her. Gave my recent conversion to pacifism a run for its money.

2) One of the other ministers has already described me as ´´different´´ less than 5 hours after meeting me. It´s good to be loved... :)

I *might* have access in Quetzaltenango... so you *might* get pictures and updates.

All my bags are packed...

Mon, 16 Jul 2007 15:59:39 GMT

So I'm at Lambert International in St. Louis, getting ready to fly to Guatemala. (By the time I I got checked in, I was still here 3 hours early.)

There *should* be pictures - we're supposed to have internet.

Please be in prayer - we're speaking at a Guatemalan Pastors' Leadership Conference. I am speaking on Student Ministry (using the categories Western/Post-Western rather than Modern/Post-modern) and on conflict resolution in the pastor's life. In toto, I am speaking 4 times.

If you're the praying type, please be in prayer for me. I'm very nervous about speaking as a church authority in the 2/3rds world - we don't exactly have a great history over there...

See you all on Friday!

jr.

Does This Count as Violent?

Mon, 09 Jul 2007 22:12:45 GMT

From the fourth of July celebration at my house...

Also, here is a link to a podcast of my sermon, "Why Jesus Hates War" that I gave Sunday night, 7/9 at Parkade.