Sunday, February 26, 2012

Today, I provide you a short story. I wrote it a long, long time ago, and I recently found it and decided to publish it here, without any editing. It is incomplete, though it still mas a very special message. I feel this Lord of Cutre'ton will feature in future posts. 

"The City of Cutre’ton was in a curious state this night. Every night, the streets would crowd with nobility, for every night entitled some reason to revel. Music and revelry would be so in use that one would forget to sleep, night after night. The roads would most likely be paved with yesterday’s revelry, streamers and confetti floating like the clouds of sand blowing outside the walls. The high palace of Cutre’ton, gilded with precious minerals and mirrors shined to a polish, was the central hub of the night’s revelries.  Nobilities would mimic those closest to the palace in their different revelries of court. From the heights of the Spire tops, slaves would throw the streamers and confetti over, increasing the cheer of the crowd below. The revelries would continue, ebbing and flowing with the crowd’s general degree of lethargy. The central courtyard, however, was always reveling the most actively, and the revelries declined the further you walked from it. The outskirts were usually filled with people of all social classes, dozing off the night’s revelries.
It is said that the Lord of Cutre’ton was blessed by the gods, to have every night be filled with revelry, since he so adored the night life. He has been leading the festivities every night, never wavering, never sleeping. Those who try to mimic the Lord would usually collapse within one night, being pushed to the outskirts to sleep and rejuvenate. But the Lord would continue the revelries, for this was his blessing.
Though this night was special, and only the stars saw all.
The eight Day-Stars were talking again, conversing about their own realms as if the others cared. They also conversed with the more minor stars; it was a great symphony in the sky at times, much like the one below. This symphony, though, lasted through the day, the brightness overtaking the sun, and stars never get tired of talking.
Tonight, though, both sky and city are in a much different state. As eluded before, Cutre’ton, the city between all the stars, was estranged today. Cutre’ton ceased its revelry. The people in the streets did not dance; they only stood staring at the front steps of the high palace, expecting the Lord to emerge. But naught emerged, save for an empty air breezing through the halls.
The Day-Stars, in their bright vigilance, were the only ones to glimpse the Lord running away from Cutre’ton, dancing, tears running down his cheeks. He was the Lost Lord of Cutre’ton. Not one person saw him leave. Not one human saw him run South, to the Badlands.
The West-star, watched the spectacle with interest. “Why,North-star ,do you suppose he decides thus? He wished to revel every day, and we have bestowed such gifts that make Cutre’ton the city of revelry! He has no reason to despise us!”
In his infinite wisdom and patience, North-Star was well accustomed to answering West-Star's simpering questioning. “He runs, oh insolent West-star, because he tires of this nightly revelry. He has led this repetitive reveling for exactly twenty years, today. He tires of our blessing.”
The star of the South spoke up to the North, “I see him running into my domain; I will follow his journeys, and relate to you his adventures,” the excitable South-star said, “Oh, what will he find on his journeys South!”

Monday, February 20, 2012

Prayer of the Dead in Sin

O Lord help me, I cannot atone,
I can't live on this water alone,
I need Your breath, Your life, 
I need Your saving, from my strife,
I need Your crutch.
I'll die without Your touch.

O Lord help me, I need You to come by,
I languish in this death, in this hate,
save me from this state.

You know I sneer at You,
The porn of life seems so true,
Though as it seduces, I know,
It's all the hoax, all the show.
It's YOUR life that's the truest of all,
With a heart for You this life becomes small,
This body's just a vessel,
The soul inside nestles,
Waiting for the release to You.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

My Mission

I've been given a mission.
I've been given a mission. From Christ.
I've been given a mission. For Christ.
I've been given a mission. To sing.
I've been given a mission. To record.
I've been given a mission. To serve.
I've been given a mission. To Write.
I've been given a mission. To create.
I've been given a mission. To be second.
I've been given a mission. To be third.
I've been given a mission. To spread his word.
I've been given a mission. To use words if I need to.
I've been given a mission. To do all of these.
I've been given a mission. For his glory.
I'm carrying out this mission. For His Renown.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Faith By Sound

Today, I speak of an interesting interest of mine. I recently came to terms with this, and I'm not sure if it's beneficial to me or not.
Today, I go to Dnow 2012, a local Christian event hosted by Fellowship Bible Church (which has a high school which my school makes a sport, literally, of beating in almost everything). I am anticipating this extremely. I talked before about how sound waves trigger great emotional responses from me. The louder the world around me is, the more I hear God, and in silence I hear a strange person I call Nothing. No whisper of Christ comes to me in silence, but no matter what I hear, I am assured God is nearer when the decibel range spikes.
This makes me a retreat junkie. Ever since I went on Bigstuf 2011, I realized this penchant for connecting to my deity through noise. When I went to Passion 2012, the voice of God was amplified forty-four-thousand-fold. I crave such loudness. At a battle of the bands at Mount Pisgah UMC, I would stand next to the speakers and be deafened. I could hear Him through this assault on my eardrums, and I enjoyed it immensely. I get closer to him when my world is louder.
This begs the question: is this wrong? The bible talks consistently of us being quiet, and God making all the noise. I'm sure there are several parts where it speaks of the followers of Christ proclaiming loudly the Word of God, though I always saw the “still small voice of our Redeemer” as something hallowed and rare. I'm sure the Bible never speaks of people seeking out the loudest parts of the world with the intent of hearing God. You don't hear anyone blasting their eardrums out to hear their savior; such a statement surely sounds stranger than sitting in a quiet room listening for him.
Another question: am I just rigging myself to believe God is speaking to me, by inundating myself with this sound? Am I selfishly making a “fake” God, an idol of sound, for me to worship? Undoubtedly, it's much easier to become involved with a blaring loud congregation, and to become one with the music... but I don't sing my loudest because of that; I do such acts to hear HIM. I'm not sure what that means.
At any rate, at the moment, I'm enjoying my current religious bliss, and, if anyone who reads this can answer this question, then I suggest you go and help other people, with much more pressing questions. I'm not in a crisis of faith; simply inquiring about my faith.

For His Renown, JHBlancs

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Churches and Creeds

***EDIT: upon recollection of this, I would like to add revelations about this material that have occurred only after I have posted this. to retain the originality of the document, the edits are all enclosed in asterisks***
Today I speak on yet another personal thing, yet I find many people with religious Conviction have some opinion on the matter. Church.
The word evokes a myriad of images, and it is interesting to see how many different images there are, from divine to depraved. Controversy and Church both start with C, and that's no Coincidence (Okay, it is). Even within religious Circles, there exists a want to be away from the body of Church. Being a Christian, I will speak about the Church's roles.
First, There's the solo Church. No family, no message, one person reading the word. I’d hate to be a whistle blower, but many errors in Christian theology exist because people misinterpret the Bible, thinking that they've thought of something that ages of scholars have not. Cults arise through this, Mormonism being one that has sadly been allowed to grow (Sorry to the Mormons, though I feel you should read your holy scriptures to understand the errors. I love you, brothers. I'll put a post about this later.).
Then there's the opposite: Mega Churches. You've got your own image in your head, though let me paint you one: Passion City Church, at 515 Garson Street. You walk about half a mile from the MARTA to reach it, and it's this whale of a white building. As you walk Closer, weaving through the ocean of vehicles, You say hi to dozens of people who say hi back, and when you enter, someone is there ready to unload high fives on everyone Crossing the threshold. Once inside, a hundred more people greet you, and twelve thousand Conversations happen at once. Volunteers are stationed at every entrance to the Chapel, and I have several people I recognize by face, to whom I relate the day-to-day comings and goings. During the service, I am blasted with music. The spirit burns me, and I am seared with it. The pastor enraptures me, and those two hours are the highlight of my week. I leave excited.
When I get home, I Come to terms with sadness: I was being Controlled. Something in me finds Christ in the loudest noises I Can handle. Death by noise would be welcomed by me, for I see God in every wavelength. I go to PCC for a high, and I'm not sure if it's PCC or me who's being manipulative. Either way, PCC has gotten me as excited as a kilogram of U-238 meeting with the other 51. Explosions happen.
Then I go home, and next week, I go to Christ UMC. It's quiet. My mother and father will murder me for saying this, but I feel it is dead. Ritual Controls that Church. Whenever we recite the Apostle's Creed, I want to run to the front of the room, stop everyone, and say, “STOP! STOP!! STOP!!! CHRISTIAN BROTHERS AND SISTERS, WE'RE NOT DEAD YET, SO STOP SOUNDING LIKE IT! ONE MORE TIME, WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE, CHRISTIAN?!?”
It's a peeve of mine. Creeds are meant to be impassioned speeches, not solemn recitations. Someone walking into a Church for the first time would look at the Congregation mumbling the Creed and leave instantly. Don't get me started on the Humnals.
So, what do Small Churches have going for them? Well, if my father suddenly, croaked, Passion City Church wouldn't even know. But CUMC would. The community of CUMC would show up. They'd support me, and my mother, and my sister. They'd be with us in our grievance. Small Churches have family. Louie Giglio, pastor of PCC, endorses small churches.

So, what would I want? Unite the denominations. We're here to be Christ's body on earth. If you feel the best way to do that is to have Communion every week, there's a Church for that. If you feel Christ is best shown in the noise of a larger Church, there's on for you, too. If you like ritual, There are several Churches.
There's a poison Corroding the Church, make no mistake. A poison of Complacency. CUMC recently banned prayer time, reducing it to banal “prayer Cards”. No prayers are spoken out loud. The Creed is mumbled. Hymnals have become Humnals. Church is a ritual. And it KILLS ME. I go to CUMC for Communion, just to Check in with my family, but Lord help me if I don't twitch every time I hear the statement of faith mumbled. Lord help me if, next time I hear it mumbled, I don't YELL IT. This Complacency makes me ANGRY.
If you read this, and attend CUMC, don't be offended if I stop the Creed next time if you're not loud enough. I know for a fact God would much rather have my recitation of the Creed spoken in a primal yell than humbled to mumbles.
          *EDIT: There are people in the Church whose voices are softer. It appalls me how, in trying to get my point across, I ended up encouraging the kind of sectionalism the Church has suffered from for years. I have offended you as a reader and myself in doing so, and i beg forgiveness. If you wish to do so, throwing your chair through the monitor would be considered acceptable reactions to this.* 
Here's how I wish for the Creed to be spoken:
WHO WAS CRUCIFIED, dead and buried!
From THENCE HE SHALL COME to judge the WICKED and the DEAD!

For His Renown. 

Tuesday, February 7, 2012


Today I speak on an injustice not heard of, simply for the fact that it is about a phrase many non-profits abuse to further their own aims. I speak on the word, “underprivileged”. I find this word has little meaning in the land of the free, other than that of the image it often conjures.
In order to get my point across, let me steal inspiration from the donor of my Y-chromosome. He made a great point when he dissected the word. “underprivileged” means that there are people without privilege in this nation. That means some things aren't there for the taking, and that there are people who are over-privileged. Well, privilege means that something is given to you, which is contrary to many things least of which is my personal experience.
My Economics teacher says “nothing is ever free”. This is most observable in everyday life; every movement costs something. Privilege is a word used to the point of cliché to describe the imbalance of such non-free-ness. The prefix of “Non-free” in this case is removed, and the word “Free” in “The Land of the Free” is misconstrued to mean “free food, free living, free loving”. It means something closer to “free to do what you want”. Sadly, this means the generations past can have damaging effects on the generation present.
Another thing my Economics teacher told me is that people are where they are because they want to be. I understand why people would find it hard to swallow this, since obviously people living in the projects would rather be living in their own homes. If you look into the past, though, my father could've ended up much worse. The reason he didn't is because of his parents, who instilled in him a work ethic that would rival an ox. They also instilled in him the values worthy to pass on to a child, which he did to me. I pray I can do the same.
I will not create a “straw man”, where I make the opposite to my father, let's say “Bob”, an extremely poor example of fatherhood. I will not do this, because I feel there are Bobs in this nation, and I don't wish to attack real people. (Also, the straw man fallacy is one in which the opposition to your point is portrayed incorrectly, being a very weak example of said opposition. I consider it on the level of clubbing baby seals: disgusting). So, if I'm not going to talk about the opposite of my father, why even include this paragraph? Well, I provoked your mind to subconsciously bring to mind your image of the opposite of my father. I rest my case.
Still not convinced? Underprivilege denotes a lack of privilege, which is considered to be “free”. Those “free” things aren't free; the people who have them strove and attained them, only after striving for a long time. Children are given privileges only after deserving them. Many things considered a privilege in many people's eyes, upon closer inspection, are not truly a “privilege”. Food is something someone worked to make.
Now to tie God into this mess of a post. Mortal existence as we know it was not God's privilege; it wasn't “given” to him. He MADE it. Granted, he is God, so it didn't take much effort, but existence didn't just come to God, he had to go and call for it. Same thing in our lives, except, whereas God can just will things into existence, we must will it, then act out that will to make it happen. Privilege without trial is hollow, for those who pay no cost find no glory in their privilege.
and that's all I got to say about that!”

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