Raisin Bran

Monday, 23. February 2009 by Dan Ryan

As far as deities go, God is one resourceful dude.

So I pull into my local supermarket last Thursday night. Just so you know, I tend to do my grocery shopping no earlier than 10 p.m. so as to avoid lines (the doctor says they’re bad for my impatience).
Anyhow, I steer my cart around the corner and wander down the cereal aisle expecting to find Quaker Oat Squares, not God. I ended up finding both.

Initially, I must tell you, the cereal aisle let me down. None of the favorites in my usual breakfast rotation—Kashi Go Lean, Quaker Oat Squares, Bran Chex and Grape Nuts—was on sale. So I forged on, already down to plan F or G, in my mind.

When I spotted Kellogg’s Raisin Bran on sale, that’s when the night turned interesting. Upon sidling up for a closer look, my eyes did an immediate double take. Sitting innocently side by side, I saw the 20 oz. box and the 25.5 oz. box of Raisin Bran. Nothing unusual about that.

Both were on sale for $3.65 a box.
Huh?

I sat there frozen for a second, looking for a catch. I inspected the sale tags in detail, presuming there must’ve been a typo or the same tag got printed twice. Nope. When I came to, I grabbed the larger box of Raisin Bran and began to move on. Somewhere around that time, God playfully snuck in a subtle: “Now you know how I feel.”

With a sneaking suspicion that He wasn’t talking about purchasing breakfast cereal, I had to wonder what God was referring to. “Now you know how I feel watching some of the decisions you make,” He said. His tone was more matter-of-fact than condemning, more whimsical than frustrated.

It wasn’t until the drive home that I began to piece together what the heck God had meant in slipping that comment into my Thursday evening. I mean, for the same price, who wouldn’t want the bigger box of cereal, right? More raisins. More bran. It’s a no-brainer, really.

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Walking

Monday, 19. January 2009 by Dan Ryan

I’ve always been a big fan of seasons, but this week was ridiculous.

Driving to school Thursday morning, the thermometer on my car plummeted to -13 degrees. Wind chills sank into the -30’s. That’s just painful cold. Not that it matters much once we get into single digits. Who knew how warm 15 degrees could feel?

And yet, in such arctic conditions, I had walking on my mind.

About 10 days ago, I was navigating through one of those long genealogies that reoccur throughout the Bible. And by navigate, I mean I was about to skip right over the whole darn thing. But I sensed there was something to be learned from this particular list in Genesis 5, so I began to plow through it.

The typical progression went exactly like this for 9 consecutive paragraphs:

When (insert weird name here) had lived (insert absurdly old age) years, he became the father of (insert even weirder name here). And after he became the father of (weird name #2), (weird name #1) lived (insert a stretch of hundreds of years) and had other sons and daughters. Altogether, (weird name #1) lived (add 1st and 2nd number of years) and then he died. 

And so it went. Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. In the 7th paragraph, the author references Enoch. Once Enoch became a father, though, we wander from the script.

“And after he became the father of Methuselah, Enoch walked with God 300 years and had other sons and daughters. Altogether, Enoch lived 365 years. Enoch walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him away.” —Genesis 5:22

In a string of 10 men, all of them lived and died…except Enoch. And while he certainly left this world in grand fashion, I was more enthralled with the details which preceded that final exit. While the other nine were living, Enoch was walking with God. Evidently, there must be some distinction between the two.

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Benjamin Button

Tuesday, 06. January 2009 by Dan Ryan

I did not want to go—even said as much.

I spent part of the last week of 2008 in Chicago hanging out with my friend Michael. It was Friday night and Michael was anxious to go catch a movie. I had hardly finished inquiring, “Well, is there anything playing that sounds good?” when Michael countered with a suggestion.

Before we go any further, a little background: the last time I saw Michael so eager to see a movie, he was amped to see Mel Gibson’s action portrayal of the Mayan culture, “Apocalypto.” To theme the night, we even ate at The Mayan Palace before the show, which was average at best (the movie, that is, not the guacamole).

So fair or unfair, Michael’s suggestion of “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” was met with cynicism. I hadn’t heard of this movie at all. Undeterred, Michael proceeded with his sales pitch, mentioning that it stars Brad Pitt (which did nothing for me). Finally, he resorted to the trailer on the internet.

Inexplicably, my mind pulled an abrupt 180 and I sensed that I should definitely go see this movie. Understandably befuddled, Michael asked what had caused my sudden change of mind. “The Holy Spirit.” “I love the Holy Spirit.” With that, we hustled off to the theater to catch the previews.

“Benjamin Button” is based on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald in which Benjamin is born old, wrinkly and arthritic…but he gradually grows younger as he ages toward childhood. The movie follows Benjamin along his awkward, inverted journey through life. If I were to sum up this movie, it’s basically “Forrest Gump” in reverse.

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Alexander’s

Monday, 29. December 2008 by Ronald T. Brown, Ph.D.

These guys might be on to something.
On a Thursday night in mid-December, I was invited to a local steakhouse (Alexander’s) for dinner. Outside, the freezing rain was turning nasty, the kind that makes walking treacherous, let alone driving. But inside the steakhouse, the atmosphere was festive.

Now Alexander’s is not your ordinary steakhouse: you have the option of cooking your own steak on one of Alexander’s expansive grills…or letting the in-house chef take care of that. Whenever I go to Alexander’s, though, I love to cook my own.

That’s why I mentioned earlier that these guys might be onto something—they run a restaurant where most customers are eager to cook their own food. Where else does that happen? Basically, we pay to play on Alexander’s culinary playground. For them, it’s not a bad gig at all.

On this evening, I opted for a sirloin (which probably means nothing to most of you, right? Me neither.). This particular slab of meat was pretty thick. Translation: I logged a lot of additional minutes at the grill.

In that time, I learned that the grill is a great place to people-watch. At any moment, there are about 15-20 other people lined up around the grill. On Thursday, I was standing next to some wanna-be expert who was correcting his son/nephew/younger co-worker in the finer arts of properly grilling a steak. And he was doing so at a volume such that the whole grill could hear his tutorial.

I found the whole scene mildly entertaining, worthy of an internal chuckle.

He struck me as one of those guys who appears to know what he’s talking about, but really doesn’t know any more than you or me. You know the kind. I mean, come on, how hard is it to grill a steak? Every now and then, you flip it until the middle is not blood-red. I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but put a man in front of a grill and a captive audience of other men and the process becomes rocket science.

Then there was Alexander’s in-house chef.

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Shepherds

Monday, 22. December 2008 by Dan Ryan

Driving through the snow and ice the other day, I was reminded of nature’s knack for bookending each calendar year. We usher in the new year with bitter winter conditions, and we close the year in the same arctic fashion.

It may just be coincidence, but people have taken to bookending as well. We end the year by celebrating a major holiday this Thursday, and we waste no time at all in beginning the next year with another. There are more examples of this, of course, and all of this bookending will make for a largely seamless transition from 2008 to 2009.

You know, the more I look at Jesus’ life, how He choreographed both His entrance into and exit from our planet, the more I am noticing common themes that bookended His life. For example, when we think about the undeserved gift of grace, our minds probably drift to a beautifully tragic scene on Calvary hill.

I doubt very many of our minds travel to the hillside in Bethlehem where it all started. Certainly Jesus’ exit from this world trumpeted the message of grace, but if we look closely, His entrance is covered in grace’s fingerprints as well.

“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.”   —Luke 2:

It’s here that we find a non-descript huddle of shepherds, held down by a seemingly go-nowhere vocation of babysitting dim-witted sheep. But a closer look reveals these were not just any sheep.

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The Return Of The King

Monday, 22. December 2008 by Ronald T. Brown, Ph.D.

Jesus…

“The first time He came as a baby; the second time He will come with His mighty legions.  The first time you can receive Him the easy way; the second time you will accept Him the hard way.  He came in a manger, but we dare not forget the baby boy has grown up.  He is now the King of Kings, and one day He will return in earth-shaking power, toppling His enemies and rewarding His friends and reclaiming what is rightfully His.”
– Steve Brown

I hope as you celebrate Christmas with family and friends, this season will be one of renewed focus on the Christ. Renewed focus on:
* Who Jesus is.
* On what He has already done for us.
* And on what He will do for us in the future.

** Merry Christmas to you all!

Full Moon Fever

Monday, 15. December 2008 by Dan Ryan

“This is like Times Square.”

That’s what I was thinking late Friday night as I walked right out of a friend’s house and right into the glow of the biggest full moon in the last 24 years (or so they say). The scene didn’t so much resemble nighttime as it resembled dusk some 7 hours earlier. My brain knew what time it was, but my eyes were not going to give in to that assertion without a fight.

Everything was washed in this weird light, shadows everywhere. Earlier in the week, I had read about this particular full moon in the newspaper, so I glanced skyward to size up this moon. I can’t say it looked any bigger to me, but the moon was definitely blanketing the earth in abnormal light. I have to admit I even tried driving a small stretch of the way home sans headlights (and it wasn’t bad at all).

So what prompted this full moon to outdo its monthly counterparts? Well, the moon typically orbits at a distance of roughly 238,000 miles from Earth. On Friday, however, the moon actually found itself 17,000 miles closer than normal. Thus, the brightness.

And that’s kind of what we’re gearing up to celebrate in a week—another source of light that moved closer and shone brighter. Ever since Eden, God had set into motion this master plan of drawing closer and closer to His creation. Let’s revisit the progression.

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Make S___ Happen

Thursday, 27. November 2008 by Dan Ryan

Did that title get your attention?

Good, only because there are two stories below that deserve attention. Now I’m a chronology guy, so we’ll start with the original before we move to the modern-day version. Off we go…

THE ORIGINAL:
One afternoon, an educated guy approached Jesus basically in search of the most important thing to do with his life. In short, Jesus told him to love God and love his neighbor. So the man countered by asking, “And who exactly is my neighbor?”

And then things get really interesting.

“In reply Jesus said, ‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was, and when he saw him, he took pity on him…

“…He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

So when our Samaritan hero arrives on the scene, did you catch what he used as healing agents? Oil and wine. Doesn’t that seem odd to you? I mean, where’s the Bactine or Neosporin? If Jesus had used my grandma in this story, she definitely would’ve had an aloe plant, her cure for pretty much everything that ever ailed the human race.

But oil and wine?

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Platforms and Politics

Tuesday, 11. November 2008 by Dan Ryan

Unbelievable.

This past Friday, I joined 4 friends for a night of card-playing, great food, and even better company. Somehow we got talking about jury duty when someone asked if I’d ever been on a jury. I told them I never had.

So Saturday morning—less than 12 hours later, mind you—I trudged out into the cold for my weekly trip to my mailbox (is that pathetic?). Sure enough, you can guess what was awaiting me: there was a summons for me to appear for jury duty on December 4th. I looked around to see if I was on camera. Unreal. Can you already tell how much I’m looking forward to this?

Anyhow, confession time: before the courts picked from driver’s license numbers, they used to draw prospective jurors via voter registration. This would explain why I had never been picked—I’ve never registered to vote. Thus, I have never voted. Didn’t vote for Obama, McCain or any other candidate last week. Never have. And I don’t say that with pride…or with shame, really.

Maybe I’m indifferent, maybe I’m apathetic, and probably I’m both. I certainly don’t feel as though I’m right in doing this. Don’t get me wrong—I have rationalized this decision in my own mind. I’ve convinced myself that my vote doesn’t make a difference. But that’s not even the #1 reason I don’t vote.

Right or wrong, I don’t really follow the news that much; it depresses me. Thus, I am grossly uneducated about current events and the candidates’ respective platforms. Oh, I suppose I’m aware of the basic divisions between Democrats and Republicans, but beyond that, I’m largely clueless. If I were to vote, I feel as though I would be casting CNN or Fox’s vote rather than my own.

Okay, I have to pause here. As you’ve been reading, I’m curious: what emotions have been pulsating through your veins? Surprise? Shock? Disappointment? Disgust?

Well, enough about elections, Washington and the economy. Let’s take this discussion in an even more important direction. Because I look at my attitude toward politics and I fear that same apathy is invading Christiandom today.

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Brett’s Wedding

Monday, 03. November 2008 by Dan Ryan

I’m guilty of adultery.
Did that get your attention? Well, it sure got mine when I realized this last weekend. I was sitting in church, getting ready to witness the wedding of my good friend Brett and Olivia. And that’s when Jesus took advantage of the perfect blend of solitude and occasion to begin pointing out my adulterous ways. So Sunday afternoon it became clear to me…

I’ve cheated on God.

The only reason I’m telling you this is because odds are you have, too, in ways that you and I don’t even realize. Hang with me here. During my freshman year of college, I took a psych class which proved to be way more difficult—and more fascinating—than I anticipated. We studied this guy Maslow, who had constructed a “hierarchy of needs” in a pyramid. At the base of the pyramid lie our most base, fundamental needs (food, shelter, etc.).

As you find ways to meet these needs, you climb up the pyramid. As you climb the pyramid, the current level’s needs take priority. Eventually, you pass through levels like Love/Belonging and Esteem.

So when the grocery store or a warm house will no longer do the trick, where do we look to fill our needs? On Sunday, God and I were examining where I look to find my worth, and I was forced to admit I usually walk right on past my Creator. All too often, I prefer to find my value through other people and what they think of me.

Somewhere along the way I’ve convinced myself that it’s easier. Or that it’s somehow more tangible.  And who knows—the first of these may very well be true. But the second is a lie, one I fall for repeatedly.

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