Missions Conference has been a staple at Moody for so long that many students simply view it as one more required event that they must attend. A popular saying in the Christian community is that everyone is a missionary. You don’t have to be a Bible translator in Papua New Guinea or a relief worker in Haiti to be carrying out the Great Commission. Yet many students still feel that the conference is geared specifically for Intercultural Studies majors and those called to live overseas.

This is where “It’s My Conference” comes in. Created by the students planning the upcoming Missions Conference for the Fall 2013 semester, the desire is for students to give feedback. “Everyone has an opinion on everything. ‘It’s My Conference’ serves as a catalyst for the students to express their opinion, named or unnamed, without being under review of the entire body,” explains Lassiter Gregg, sophomore communications major and the logistics coordinator for the planning team.

Crystal Anderson, junior communications major and project manager states: “My desire is for Moody students to be unified in their vision for missions, before and after graduation. It’s My Conference can help students and alumni take ownership of God’s mission for us as one body supporting each other’s calling.” Partnering with the Moody Alumni Association will also allow the team to get input from Moody grads on how or if Missions Conference had an affect on preparing them for their future ministries. What do they wish had been included in the conference to better equip them for missions? Combining this with what current students would like to see more of will help the team better prepare for next fall.

Other members on this project are Brittany Van Erem, senior communications major and graphic designer; Kevin Jones, junior communications major and social media coordinator; Katrina Palazuelos Rico, senior communications major, project writer and recorder; and Clive Craigen, professor of world missions and evangelism,.

For more information on “It’s My Conference,” or to give your input, visit Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter using @itsmyconference.

The scent of death is tantalizing, the lure of sin beguiling. It desires to sink its teeth into you, to drink the life from you, to envelope you in its darkened mist, to catch you sleeping by its toxic draught.

Such is the horror of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula.” Count Dracula is evil itself, snarling and bloodthirsty. A vampire, he drinks the blood of his victims, draining their life source for the maintenance of his immortality. He comes in the mist, he comes in the fog, beating against the bedroom window. He shapeshifts and prowls about in darkness. Skin snow-pale, lips crimson, eyes maliciously cruel, fangs glistening, Count Dracula is the waking nightmare that haunts man’s most grotesque imaginations. He is the Undead — a being who will make readers’ blood run cold.

Narrated through letters and journals, “Dracula” gives an intimate look at the terrors and struggles within the characters’ minds. At the start of the book, Jonathan Harker, an English lawyer, finds himself a prisoner in Count Dracula’s stone castle, having journeyed there to settle real estate matters. Here, he witnesses the ancient horrors whispered of in the Transylvanian countryside. After months awaiting certain death, Harker barely escapes with his life and is found tormented in mind by his fiancée, Lady Mina.

Later, in England, the Count chooses his next victim, Lucy Wesentra, vision of innocence and beauty, and intimate friend to Lady Mina. He comes in darkness to suck her blood, and in time, make her an immortal bride. The old saying, “What you don’t know can’t kill you” proves fatal, as Lucy succumbs to Count Dracula’s entrancements and is reborn a vampire. In this, Bram Stoker warns the reader: Although innocence is praiseworthy, one cannot be ignorant and passive to the existence of sin, or indifferent to the powers of Hell. If so, one has invited evil to enter and entertained it to stay.

To avenge Lucy, Dr. Van Helsing, affectionately called the vampire slayer, and his company — Jonathan Harker; Dr. Seward, physician to Lucy and friend to Van Helsing; Lord Godalming and Quincy Morris, Lucy’s suitors; and Lady Mina Harker, who has the heart of a woman but the mind of a man — set out to purge such evil from the land. Armed with cloves of garlic, crucifixes and communion wafers, they scour the countryside, driving stakes through the hearts of the Undead while they slumber in their crypts. “We are ministers of God’s own wish,” cries Dr. Van Helsing, “that the world, and men for who His Son died, will not be given over to monsters, whose very existence would defame Him.”

With a host of delicious words, Stoker startles and horrifies with the truly Satanic. With graphic description, he unveils the dangers of evil’s allure on both weak-minded and strong-minded men. More than a thrilling horror story, “Dracula” is profoundly Christian, illuminating the reality of evil and the very real spiritual battle raging for the human soul.

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Quintessential Classics: essential works of art that constructed genres and shaped our culture

The sermons are sound, providing encouragement and exhortation in an exegetical manner. The examples I have to look to there, people who’ve known God longer than I have lived, many who have served overseas and come from a background manifestly unfamiliarly to my own, are a profound gift that I have not completely unwrapped yet.

I teach junior high boys on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings, something that is strangely exhausting and refreshing at the same time. Serving and being edified at my church has been one of my most cherished blessings since coming to live in the Chicago area.
While many of my dearest moments of each week are in Wheaton, it is a massive time commitment. I am almost never there for less than twenty-four hours, and at least once a month I go out on a Friday, turning those twenty-four hours to thirty-six or forty. When I return to Moody on Sundays, I am often shaken by the amount of homework I have, usually untouched while I was in Wheaton. As the semester draws to a close, this amount of homework feels overwhelming.

Trying to cope with the onslaught of assignments, I decided to cut down my time in Wheaton to about seven hours on Saturday afternoon and evening. This, of course, would prevent me from going to church on Sunday mornings in Wheaton. I planned on doing so for about five weeks, and was even considering doing so for the entirety of next year.

When I did this a couple weeks ago, I still did youth ministry on Saturday night, but my Sunday was spent in Chicago, away from the local Body I had deliberately become a part of. Many people I had become use to fellowshipping with every Sunday were suddenly absent. The weekly sermon I had grown to hunger for was unheard.

The thought of being at another church on Sundays for the rest of the semester and possibly the entirety of next year made me feel like a desert wanderer going to a well regularly but never drinking from it.

It only took one weekend for me learn from my error. The spiritual and emotional nourishment I receive at my church is worth sacrificing a significant amount of time out of my weekends, much of which I would normally commit to homework.

While I occasionally miss weekends or parts of weekends there for various reasons, it is something that I never want to endure for a prolonged period of time. When I move away from the area in a couple years, I know I’ll have to go through the painful process of switching churches, but now is not the time to cut myself away from this church. For now, I am a part of that fellowship.

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Culture’s Crushes: what Christian and secular culture is obsessed with,
and what those obsessions produce
by Marcus Goble, features editor 

According to an article released by The Financial Times on March 15, China’s Health Ministry reports that 336 million abortions have been performed in the country since 1971, when the country first began trying to limit its burgeoning population. By 1979, China had officially established the “one-child” policy, which affects only Han Chinese (the largest ethnic group in the world, constituting more than ninety percent of China’s 1.35 billion citizens) in urban areas.

The article also reports that in the same period, Chinese doctors performed 196 million sterilizations and inserted 403 million intrauterine devices; some reports have claimed that local officials often force these procedures on women. The official policy does levy large fines against couples who have second children.

Jing Xu, a Chinese national living in Chicago, was born into an urban Han family after the one-child policy began and is a second child. Xu explained that her mother was too sick to have an abortion while she was pregnant with her. Her parents also hoped she would be a boy who could carry on her mother’s name (her mother’s side of the family has no boys). Because they continued the second pregnancy, Xu’s parents were fined an amount greater than their annual income, and her mother lost her job.

Xu explained that the policy is especially difficult for adult children taking care of elderly parents. Traditionally, children have shared the responsibility. Now, however, single children must care for both parents, and couples must care for two sets of parents.
The Financial Times reports that since enforcement of the one-child policy has been shifted to China’s health ministry, some modifications may be in store. In particular, couples in which both spouses are only children may be allowed to have up to two children. This modification is currently on trial in a few cities.

As a child of the original policy, Xu says she was fortunate to have a brother. “Growing up with a brother makes me feel like I am very special and very lucky,” she said. “Though my brother and I have had to share some resources, I am very thankful that I had someone to play with and to share my life with at home at a young age.”

This coming fall, Moody Theological Seminary (MTS) will offer a new program catered to specific students — those called to minister in the workplace. The new program, under the direction of Dr. Sajan Mathews, professor of theology at MTS, is called Initiative to Integrate Faith, Work and Economics, and, according to Mathews, “[It will] really meet a vital need in Moody education.” Mathews said there is no doubt that Moody prepares solid men and women for ministry in the context of the local church and missions abroad, but this program allows for those who are entering the secular market to bring the gospel to their workplace.

Dr. John A. Jelinek, the vice president and academic dean of MTS, said, “God calls each of us to express meaning and purpose through our work. This initiative gives an opportunity to reinvigorate into our curriculum the Reformation emphasis on vocation as calling — a vital aspect of pastoral and ministry training.” As director of the program, Mathews wants to help students who are called to a bi-vocational ministry to, as he says, “build a mental framework of how to be a best ambassador for the Lord in their workplace to transform their vocation, and to enjoy their jobs and glorify God.”

The initiative is funded through a grant from the Kern Family Foundation. Because of this grant, the program will start in the fall of 2013 with $1,000 scholarships to the first 20 students to enroll. According to Mathews, the program is under the Ministry Leadership program, and students can receive an MDiv, MA or Certificate in Vocational Stewardship. After completing an undergraduate degree at Moody, the MA program can be completed in a year and a half, with proposed courses in Vocational Stewardship: Integration of Faith, Work and Economy; Morality, Integrity and Ethics in Vocations; and Social Entrepreneurship for Economic Flourishing or “Shalom.”

The capstone of the program is a six-month internship in Chicago in a vocation or workplace. In this final project, students will study the organization, or do some other project as agreed with a supervisor, and upon completion, the three best projects will be awarded funds of $3,000, $2,000 and $1,000.

Mathews explained that this is not only a track for people headed into vocational ministry, but also for pastors teaching their congregations: “If God has called someone to the pastorate, great! They’ll make a great pastor because of these classes, and they’ll know how to provide leadership and how to train people in their congregation to be a blessing in the workplace. … Pastors can use the seventh day to exhort and equip gap laborers to go out and minister the other six days in their various vocations.” Jelinek said, “We want to help our students extend the blessing of the biblical ministry connection between all human labor and the God who is at work.”

Moody is at the forefront of this type of vocational focus, along with other seminaries like Gordon-Conwell, Southwestern and Trinity International University. Mathews said, “With the biblical training, students are equipped to enter the various vocations to see how they can be the best in their workplace, transform the vocation, meet individuals, share Christ and be a wonderful ambassador for the Lord in their workplace — that’s what this program is all about.”

Questions can be directed to Dr. Sajan Mathews of MTS at sajan.mathews@moody.edu.

Second only to Joshua George’s passion for evangelism is his passion for the military. George, a junior world evangelism and missions major, plans on joining the Marine Corps upon graduation. He says he would eventually like to move up to an officer position or go to officer school and become a commissioned officer.

George’s father was in the military and has helped him shape his beliefs and vision for being a Christian in the military. “My dad is a pastor. He sees the disconnect with people because he has that different position,” he said. “I want to be a fellow Marine, sitting in the trenches with them, witnessing and ministering to them on site.”

So, instead of becoming a chaplain for the military, George wants to work side by side with Marines. He said, “I have talked to other Christians who have gone into the Marine Corps, and they say it is a very hard place to be a Christian. They are mocked and torn down because of their beliefs, but light has to go where there is darkness. No sense keeping it to myself.”

Pierre Holdsworth, sophomore biblical studies major, was a Para-Commando in the Belgian army, which was also not an easy place for a Christian. “I was the only Christian among 300 guys in my unit. I got teased that I believed in the Bible,” he said. “I had to earn respect by working hard. They respected the fact that I was standing for my beliefs even if they didn’t understand any of them. When bad things happened, they would ask me questions about my faith and about death.”

There were many times, Holdsworth said, when he felt isolated and alone. “In 2009 after three weeks of training in Turkey, I was down with my faith, and that night I was on duty to guard a house with a soldier from the Royal Marines Commando (England),” he recalled. “It just so happened that this guy was the only Christian from his unit too, and we ended up praying that night. God has always been faithful.”

William Marty, professor of Bible, served in South Vietnam from 1966-1970. He found it hard to fight against other people, but he did find comfort with fellow believers. He said, “I had some opportunities to witness to other soldiers and also meet and share with Vietnamese believers.”

To safeguard from potential depression because of isolation from other believers, George intends to have many supporters who pray for him. He plans on writing to his family and church and finding people around him who are believers. “Some days it’s going to suck,” he said.

Holdsworth has plans to return to the military either as a chaplain or a soldier. He has advice for Christians going into the military: “From the first day, nail down your colors; let them know that you are a Christian. It’s not going to be easy,” he said. “It’s more than a job; it’s a duty to defend your country. I also believe that we need Christians everywhere — and especially in the military where there is a huge need for Jesus.”

If you had the chance to save a life, would you?

Could you?

Cardiac arrest, the ceasing of proper blood flow due to a wild and erratic heart-beat, is the leading cause of death in the United States, according to the American Heart Association website. Victims who experience cardiac arrest outside the setting of a hospital have an overall survival rate of less than ten percent, despite fairly high levels of bystander intervention in the form of cardiopulmonary resuscitation, or CPR.

The Automated External Defibrillator, or AED, is a portable device that automatically assesses heart rhythms and prompts users when to administer a shock to restore normal heart function. It offers victims better odds of survival and enables would-be rescuers to render aid more effectively. As a rescue aid designed for use by untrained personnel, the AED is simple to deploy, even in an emergency.

“To use an AED, you simply remove it from its case and turn it on. There are printed photo instructions inside the case. … There are audible instructions provided as well,” explained Brian Stoffer, deputy chief of public Safety. “The devices are intended to be easy to use. Articles I’ve read indicate the newest models are designed so that a kindergartener could successfully operate the device.”

In order to respond quickly to medical emergencies, students should be aware of the locations of AEDs around campus, Stoffer said. The locations include the first floor lobbies of Jenkins, Sweeting, Smith (near the arch doors), Houghton and Solheim. In addition, students should not fear using the devices in an emergency; the American Heart Association website says that hesitation and uncertainty often paralyze untrained rescuers. “The biggest hurdle for people using an AED is not a lack of training, but a lack of confidence or familiarity with the device,” Stoffer said, adding, “The AEDs we have on campus cannot cause harm. If the victim doesn’t need to be shocked, then the AED won’t deliver a shock.”

Many in our evangelical circles would be drawn naturally to the first prayer, and rightly so. It is clear in scripture that we should have a passion for those who are lost. We implore God to act because we know it is only through him that the heart of any person—not just a person who would murder three people and maim hundreds of others—is changed. However, I think many would chafe at the idea of praying for the swift judgment of such a man.

Just to clarify, I don’t mean prayer for God’s eternal judgment; instead, I mean prayer for temporal judgment. Is it right for a Christian to pray for or desire temporal justice for someone even if the inevitable end is lethal injection?

My answer to that question is yes. There are two smaller issues in this larger one. First of all, there is the issue of where temporal justice lies. This authority has clearly been given to governing institutions. 1 Peter 4:13-14 says, “Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good.” A government that functions in a right way is one that punishes evil and commends good. In praying for justice to be dealt on Earth, we are asking that our government follow God’s design for it.

Most people don’t take issue with this part. However, when it comes to the death penalty, it becomes a more difficult issue. Many well intended Christians decry the death penalty in hopes that a man’s time in prison will bring him to repentance before God. This is a good sentiment, yet God is not restricted by time. Should a man have one hour or a thousand days, if God does not choose to affect his heart, then the man will remain unrepentant before him.

Furthermore, I think that Scripture is very clear that execution is the punishment for murder. Genesis 9:6 is the often cited scripture passage to back this up. In it, God says, “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image.” It is important to note that this passage comes before any of the laws pertaining to Israel as a nation, making it a universal claim.

In his book “Genesis in Space and Time”, evangelical scholar Francis Schaeffer has this to say about the passage: “Man is such a special creation that to take his life in a wanton, murderous way deserves a particular punishment. I feel that often the hue and cry against capital punishment today does not so much rest upon humanitarian interest or even an interest in injustice, but rather in a failure to understand that man is unique.”

Judgment and grace don’t stand as polar opposites when praying about the Boston Marathon bombing or the horrific deeds of Kermit Gosnell in his abortion clinic. Yes, pray for the souls of the men who commit murderous acts, but also pray that our government would distribute justice rightly for the good of ourselves and our neighbors.

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The Crossroads: Understanding the world’s news as it intersects with the Good News
by Dillon Mack, news editor

After twelve years at Moody, resident supervisor (RS) and former student Brenton Smith will be leaving his post at the end of this school year. Coming here as a freshman in the fall of 1997, Smith was a student for five years, taking one year of intermission in the middle. He met his wife Amber who was on his sister floor, during his senior year, and has been working full-time as an RS on campus for the past seven years. As one of two resident supervisors, he oversees all of Dryer hall and floors 3-9 of Culbertson hall. On top of caring for the Moody family, he has been raising and caring for his own family, including his wife and five children, on the top floor of Dryer.

Smith admitted that at first, he thought it would be a little weird to be back at Moody as an RS, especially since he was only moving two stories above his old room. And, as you can imagine, caring for a family while living in an all-boys dorm can be interesting. One particularly memorable experience was finding a resident assistant (RA) and a guy from his floor rummaging through the Smiths’ fridge at 3 a.m. As Smith said, he and his wife promote a very open atmosphere, so upon waking up, Smith’s wife told him to text the boys: “Thank you, we finally feel like we’re at home.”

Pictured here is the entire Smith family, from left to right: (top) Silas, Brenton, Amber, Elijah, (bottom) Abigail, Taniah and Elijah

Stories like these are some of the things that Smith said he will miss most: “I don’t think I’ll ever be part of a community like that again — walking down the hall and going into someone’s room or staying up until midnight … those things don’t happen in most communities.” Luke Morris, junior children’s ministry major and RA of Culby 8, said that the Smith family’s hospitality was their crowning achievement: “He and his wife have hospitality like I’ve never seen. They always have an open door and their love is not on and off at certain times, but is constant.”

While at Moody, Smith said he has had the opportunity to disciple many young men, especially his RAs. Sam Becze, senior theology major and RA of Culby 9, expressed his admiration for Smith’s sincerity: “He was really good at meeting you where you were at.” Becze said, Smith is the type of person that you can share any problem with, and he will be interested, asking good questions the whole time.
Throughout all of his time here, Smith has gained a lot of wisdom about life on campus for students. He has seen that as the school year progresses, an unproductive spirit of cynicism comes over many of the students regarding some of the traditions and rules. He noted, “Moody is not perfect. The rules we have are not perfect and some of them might need to be challenged, but don’t grumble and complain about it in the lounge. Go and talk to someone who can change it.”

After finishing his duties as an RS this school year, Smith will be going on to the next phase of life as a campus pastor for a new Park Community Church location in the Edgebrook neighborhood here in Chicago.

Kalena Twinem, sophomore urban ministry major, had her first encounter with a soccer ball while still teetering on 3-year-old legs, weaving between a sea of chairs in her church. Thus began her lifelong love of one of the world’s most popular sports. Born in Canada but raised since age eight in Peru as an MK, Twinem took her love of soccer with her to a country where girls simply don’t play.

“Peru is a very chauvinistic society where girls play volleyball and boys play soccer, and I simply didn’t want to play volleyball,” she said. So in fourth grade, Twinem started playing soccer with the boys. By fifth grade, she started to get girls to play with her. They were able to build a team and start competing in tournaments. As she progressed in the game, she began to play with a Peruvian school. But she couldn’t compete because it was an 18-and-under national team, and she was not a Peruvian citizen. She trained with the team during the school year and was able to compete in the summer when the team reverted to a club team, not a national team.

Her coach recognized her talent and strongly encouraged her to try out for Peru’s national women’s team. But recognizing that such a decision would completely alter her life, because she would have to become a citizen of Peru and move away from home, the 16-year-old Twinem decided that was not the route she wanted to go. Around this same time, Twinem fractured her back, which pinched a nerve and caused her to take a year off from playing. She began looking at colleges in the States and was looking forward to finally having an opportunity to represent a school. However, Moody — the school predominantly on her mind — had no official women’s soccer team. “I have always had the dream of competing for a school,” Twinem said, “but soccer was not a good enough reason to choose a school. I knew Moody was where I needed to go.”

Twinem immediately jumped into the women’s soccer club and began playing with them. Last year they were able to compete against a few other schools in the spring, but this year the club has come to a standstill due to a lack of practice time, space and faculty and student support. Despite the club not meeting this semester, Twinem says there is immense hidden talent at Moody. This past weekend, a group of international men and women from Moody, including Twinem, competed in a Charity Cup Soccer Tournament. She remains hopeful that the club will be restarted, but for now she says, “There’s no club, but soccer is alive.”

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Archer Profile: getting to know our Moody athletes

As we enter into the month of May, baseball season is in full swing. All around the country, little leaguers, high schoolers and minor leaguers alike have been imitating their major league counterparts who have been in the heat of the regular season since the opening game on March 31.

Chicago is one of only two cities with the privilege of having two major league teams in the center of town. Both the White Sox and the Cubs entered the season with high hopes. Though tumbling late last year, the White Sox led their division for most of 2012. Despite lacking much rotation support, pitcher Chris Sale had a 17-win season in his first year as a starter last year, and hopes to further his success.

The Cubs rebuilt their front office over the offseason, and added shortstop Starlin Castro and first baseman Anthony Rizzo as they attempt to improve last year’s 101-loss record. Cubs pitcher Jeff Samardzija hopes to continue his breakout production from last year, leading a rotation filled by veterans added in the offseason.

Off to the hottest starts are the Atlanta Braves, who picked up two power hitters, brothers B.J. and Justin Upton, in the offseason, pairing them in the outfield; the Boston Red Sox, playing powerfully despite the bombing tragedy that struck their town on April 15; the Texas Rangers, possessing a strong starting rotation led by Yu Darvish; and, most surprisingly, the Colorado Rockies, who are currently atop the NL West and a game ahead of the defending world champion San Francisco Giants.

For those spending their summers out in Chicago’s suburbs, there are a plethora of minor league teams. Some nearby Illinois teams include the Schaumburg Boomers; Joliet Slammers; Kane County Cougars, in Geneva; Windy City Thunderbolts, in Crestwood; and Lake County Fielders, in Zion.

So whether you’re staying in Chicago, spending time with family or on your internship this summer, grab a hotdog, pick up a ticket on StubHub and take a friend out to the ballgame to enjoy America’s pastime.

According to ABC News, Chicago has experienced a twenty-five percent increase in gang activity in just four years. In 2012, gang-related violence reached an all-time high, and the trend seems to be growing in 2013, with over forty reported homicides in January alone. The staggering numbers have placed the city of Chicago under nationwide scrutiny. Reverend Michael Pfleger of St. Sabina Church on the city’s south side felt that it was time for the Body of Christ to take action.

After Pfleger’s foster son, Jarvis Franklin, was killed by gang crossfire, the priest teamed up with retired NBA star and Chicago native Isiah Thomas to hold the Peace Basketball Tournament, hosted in September 2012. Because of the significant decline in gang-related violence in the south side during that month, Pfleger decided to extend the tournament and form a league.

Once a week, members of the Gangsta Disciples, the Black P. Stones, Killa Wards and the Black Disciples bury their hatred for one another to play hours of basketball. “In fact, at one of the games, a guy was playing against a guy who had shot him about six months before,” Pfleger told CNN.

The Peace Basketball League provides a safe place for the gang members to get to know each other. After each game, each player responds in a sportsman-like manner; some go as far as hugging their opponents while exchanging pleasantries. The young men started seeing and thinking of each other as brothers and not enemies. “All of these young men have not shot a gun since this tournament began,” Pfleger said.

Curtis, a senior member of the Black Stones who has been shot at six times, said basketball is helping to bring peace amongst the gangs: “These guys really don’t know each other, but on the court they get a chance to say, ‘If I can play against you, then if I see you on the street, you not that bad of a person.’”

Polo Franklin, member of Black Disciples, said, “Just a year ago we was at each other’s necks. It’s hard to believe that this is happening, but I’m thankful.”

Through relationships built through the basketball league, members of the community have joined the church in extending a hand by providing the young men with internships and employment opportunities. St. Sabina church also helped and encouraged many of the gang members to finish their GEDs.

Reverend Pfleger is praying about how he can involve other gangs in the basketball league. “There’s no question in me that if we create positive opportunities and build relationships and offer options, the violence will decrease.”

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Active in Ministry: serving Christ through recreation and sports

In the fall of 2012, Dr. Paul Nyquist shared his vision for broadcasting, publishing and education at the Moody Bible Institute to have a more global impact. Having already established relationships with international media ministries, the leadership of Moody Radio began thinking and praying about ways that they could partner with those ministries. Through research and dialogue, the need for training in other nations became obvious.

With a pool of extremely talented and experienced media professionals on staff, Moody Radio began working on the Global Partners Training Initiative. In partnership with media ministries from Eastern Europe, Moody Radio hosted its first Global Partners Training Conference in Sofia, Bulgaria last November. One hundred and fifteen delegates from eight countries attended the training, which taught skills such as program production, marketing and engineering.

This summer Moody Radio will be joining forces with HCJB (Heralding Christ Jesus’ Blessings) Global, Theovision International (a Ghanaian-based media ministry) and Africa by Radio to host the second global partners training in Accra, Ghana, West Africa. The team of fifteen will include Collin Lambert, vice president of broadcasting, Brian Dahlen, professor and coordinating producer for the Morning Ride, Brian Kammerzelt, chair of the communications department, and four communication students.

Stephen Asare, Moody Radio’s Project Coordinator for Marketing and Development said, “We really want to invest in the student body at Moody, and we feel that this will be a great opportunity for communication majors to get hands-on experience in contextualizing all that they have learned, but also glean from seasoned professionals in the different aspects of media.” The students will not only assist in the training, but they will also be responsible for creating official content for Moody Radio’s social media platforms and for collecting and analyzing data. The training will be held from June 18 until June 21 on the Akuapem Mountain at Hephzibah Christian Centre, which is about fifteen minutes from the capital city of Accra. The sessions will be structured so that the participants will receive theoretical and practical training in all aspects of radio programming, social media, internet ministry, television and leadership.

Asare added, “The mornings will be very content heavy, but when we come back from our lunch breaks, the participants will have a chance to practically apply what they have learned in the morning.” The program isn’t just meant to give delegates the practical skills, but is focused on providing biblical training as well. “We are planning evening sessions of worship led by a local team, and we are excited to have Dr. Winfred Neely, professor of pastoral studies, join us. He will be tying God’s word into all that was learned throughout the day,” Asare said. “I believe that everyone who will be at the training will walk away from it better equipped to continue spreading the Gospel through media.”

My immature but honest response: Five years from now, I want to be freelance writing in the suburbs and rocking babies. Only fragments of this projection came true. Five years from graduation I was freelance writing … but in an impoverished country. I wasn’t tending to a baby, but rather navigating the red tape of an international adoption and teaching our new rambunctious little girl how to speak English and obey her parents.

At the same time God was teaching me lessons about obedience and submission.

Life has a way of catching us by surprise, and I had never, ever intended to end up on the mission field. Truth be told, I’d tried to make a deal with God during my last missions conference: I’ll serve You anywhere, Lord, but I’d really prefer it be stateside.

But ironically, my Moody boyfriend had a heart for missions. Before he asked me to marry him, he made sure I understood his commitment to mission aviation. Secretly, I felt pretty sure I’d be able to talk him out of it if need be.

I failed at distracting and dissuading him, though, and I woke up one morning a few years later to roosters crowing in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Greg was seriously elated to begin flying a Cessna in a third-world country. And me, well, I was about to begin a journey of my own, but my passage was deeply spiritual and personal. It was one of learning to trust that God’s thoughts and ways are always higher than my own.

I admit it. I had actually moved all the way to Haiti with a reluctant heart. I didn’t feel particularly equipped to do the work or live the life. Yet as always, God had a plan. In that voodoo-infested and poverty-stricken land, He began shaping me. Somewhere along the way, while living through government coups, three rounds of malaria, dengue fever, mono and a nearly impossible adoption process, He realigned my heart. In my weakened state, He taught me to embrace the truth of Jim Elliot’s famous quote I’d written in my Bible back in Chicago: Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.

Paradoxically, it was after my life veered dramatically off the course I’d planned that I learned how to live outrageously and passionately for Christ. And now, although it’s been two decades since we had to leave Haiti, I’m still reaping the blessings God poured on us through our time there: the gift of our first child, a foundation for my freelance writing ministry, a world missions perspective not attainable in the U.S. and an incredible appreciation for how God leads His children.

If you, like me, happen to have your future all charted out, you might want to step back a moment and make certain you’ve consulted with the Lord. He just might have something else in mind, and if He does, I guarantee you don’t want to miss the blessings of this “other” path.

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps (Proverbs 16:9 ESV).

—–

What is “Bughouse Square”?
Bughouse Square is the nickname of Chicago’s Washington Square Park, which for decades served as an outdoor free-speech venue for soapbox orators. The Newberry Library, located just across the street, still sponsors the Bughouse Square Debates in the park each year in honor of its rich history of free speech and public oratory.
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A psychiatrist with multiple degrees from Bethel College and an M.D. from the University of Kansas, Lehman has used his faith, his shepherding heart and his scientific training to combine the intricacies of the human mind with the help of the Creator in order to present and utilize a method of bringing emotional healing and interactive connection in relationships between people and God.

Lehman explained the operations of the brain that allow humans to process traumatic events through a five-step process, the end of which turns the memory into a meaningful learning experience. He used the example of childbirth, where the mother goes through a seemingly traumatic experience, but because there is purpose to her pain (a child), and there is community that surrounds her, it isn’t stored in her mind as traumatic.

The goal in Lehman’s method, called Immanuel prayer, is for a traumatized person to go back and reconnect emotionally with a traumatic memory in order to invite Jesus into it, so that God is the therapist and can heal the memory in His own time, in His way.
Lehman’s mantra during his talk was, “[I]nvite Jesus into the memory, focus on him, ask him for help, tell me what happens.” This brings the thought process to the frontal lobe, where the mind recognizes a fact as important and poignant and connects to it emotionally.

Anna Schwenk, senior pre-counseling major and member of The Movement, said she very much enjoyed her time learning about the collaboration between counseling, emotional healing and brain science.

Also intrigued by Lehman’s incorporation of practicality and spirituality is Liann Whitstone, senior women’s ministry major. Although initially wary of such a new, emotional “cure-all” method, Whitstone was pleasantly surprised by the intimate role that Christ plays within Immanuel prayer. “As long as it doesn’t end up promoting that healing is the end in itself, rather than knowing Jesus,” adds Whitstone. She says she plans to use Immanuel prayer and the principle of asking Jesus to be present in her memories as a new addition to future quiet or meditative times.

The Movement works together with Nancy Kane, associate professor of educational ministries, to exemplify and foster emotional health and openness on the campus. “It was started in order to form a stronger sense of community among the students in the pre-counseling major,” Kane said, “as well as provide an outlet so that the students can use the skills and knowledge they have gained to minister to the larger Moody student body.”

Not only has Lehman’s Immanuel prayer been an encouragement to students and The Movement, but it is also continuing the new trend of being sensitive to vulnerability that is moving throughout the campus.

I just walked down to the Houghton 3 lounge to give my mind a rest from writing the article on self-harm and from transcribing a student’s interview on her cutting experiences. Awhile before that I was reading some of our former columns telling stories of students’ pain. And my mind kept interrupting my writing and research; I kept thinking about the pain those closest to me are going through right now.

Then in the lounge, because of what I’ve been reading and transcribing and struggling to write, I looked up at the ceiling, imagining the floors and rooms and spaces above me filled with women who are hurting. The amount of pain and suffering contained in this building — it’s overwhelming.

There’s often an aversion to pain in Christian culture, but we’ve been doing better at Moody these past few years, haven’t we? David Ulrich’s Sackcloth and Tea column opened eyes to what’s beneath the surface of many peers’ smiles. The “Can You Relate” campus events have helped some see that others are dealing with the same issues they are. Efforts have been made, and as one of our articles pointed out, openness to vulnerability is trending.

I’ve seen it outside the Moody bubble as well. I’ve been reading more blogs these days, and have come across a few by Christians who desperately want to reveal how often pain gets pushed aside. “Letters to the Wounded {#2}” on aholyexperience.com was one of the most beautiful things I’ve read in a long time. I recommend it in a heartbeat, if you’re prepared for the likelihood of tears.

I may have fooled myself, though, and been lulled to contentment with the progress I’ve seen, both in and out of Moody, to see and address people’s pain. Just because we’ve made progress doesn’t mean that the problem isn’t still there, and the problem is that people are still walking around this campus shoving intense pain deep inside, sadly, to hide it from the rest of you.

So this new openness could easily be and stay just a trend. Because many of you don’t know who David Ulrich was, and certainly don’t remember his stories. The “Can You Relate” events only served to enlighten those who attended, and the rest of us had to rely on the few who ignored the request that the stories told there were not to be shared. The blogs as well are only a tiny fraction within the fraction of Christians who write and interact with blogs.

This is my last column, and I was going to write about how scared I am about my future — and I am. Desperately. And that’s something we need to talk about too, how scared we all are of the future even when we slap on happy faces and say we’ll figure it out as we go.

But this is more important right now.

You are more important right now. The people around you are more important right now — your pain and their pain, seeing it, addressing it, sharing it, loving each other in and through it, instead of despite it.

So I’m using this, my last opportunity, to tell you that it’s on you now. Look around you and realize that someone is reliving abuse right now; someone is feeling like she just can’t do it anymore; someone just started medication for severe anxiety, and all it’s done is make her nauseated; someone was emotionally abused last night; and someone has scars on his skin from last week’s razor blade.

Stop ignoring it. Stop being shocked. Start seeing it and acknowledging it.

—–

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Writer’s Block: exploring connections between life and communications
by Jenna Pirrie, editor-in-chief 

Would you want to know about it if someone down the hall from you was being physically harmed every day? What if the person causing the pain was themselves?

According to an article published by Marquette University, a 2006 survey of 2,875 college students showed that 17% reported a history of self-injury, and that 75% of these individuals had self-harmed more than once. Forty percent reported that nobody knew about the behavior.

In his book “Helping Teens Who Cut,” Michael Hollander says, “Most self-injury begins in early adolescence, around 13 or 14, and affects an estimated 9% of the teenage population.” These numbers only reflect those willing to admit to it — it doesn’t include those who choose to keep their habit a secret.

Many of those teenagers continue cutting into their college years, and that includes Moody students. Holly Porter, counselor at Moody, said, “I would say within the last five to seven years, there has been a noticeable increase in the number of students struggling with self-injury. Most are struggling with cutting.”

Tyler Neethling, senior youth ministry major who infrequently cut between his later years of high school and his freshman year at Moody, said, “It was pretty staggering actually, how many people on campus have either dealt with it before or are currently dealing with it.”

Julie DeBoer, senior applied linguistics major, started cutting when she was 15 after two incidents of sexual abuse. It began as a manner of self-punishment for the blame she felt for the attacks, but over time, it turned into a method of both numbing and distracting herself. She said, “It kept my mind off the inner pain and put it on something that was physical.” DeBoer’s cutting lasted through the fall of her sophomore year at Moody.

One 2011 alumna began cutting as a way to accustom herself to a life of pain — something her boyfriend of the time told her was unavoidable. “He told me, and in my naïve self I believed him, that guys were turned on by inflicting pain because it gave them a power trip.” She started cutting, she said, “[because] I am going to have to go through so much pain, apparently, after I get married — I might as well start getting ready for it now.” None of her peers knew that this was going on until long after she stopped, after she ended the relationship in her junior year.

Cutting is not attempted suicide. This does not mean that cutting never accompanies suicidal thoughts, but it more often is an alternative to suicide. Cutters are often extraordinarily meticulous about their process, making shallow cuts to avoid obvious scars or excessive bleeding and carefully cleaning up afterwards. Tyler Hewson, 2012 alumnus, related his own experience with cutting in his early years at Moody: “I was smart. I used razor blades and rubbing alcohol.”

Cutting should also not be mislabeled as a mere cry for attention. While many cutters would admit to wishing someone would notice what they are doing and help them deal with it, most still hide the addiction and keep it a secret.

Despite not being as dangerous as a suicide attempt, cutting is still a legitimate issue. Porter explained, “Self-injury is an indication that the student is experiencing intense emotional distress, and he/she doesn’t know how to handle in a more effective way. ”

Hewson said, “Sometimes it was a high and it made me feel a lot better, sometimes it helped me go to sleep, sometimes I saw it as a pious act to bring me closer to God.” No matter the reason, a struggle with cutting is almost always indicative of deeper issues.
If you are suspicious that a friend might be cutting, DeBoer said, “I would always opt to say something, especially if you have a relationship with them.” Neethling said that along with ignoring someone’s struggle with cutting, another poor reaction can be an overreaction. “Don’t freak out. Don’t express shock, because that makes them feel like a freak. Take it, process it and just talk to them.”
Porter concluded, “My hope for students struggling with self-injury is that they might understand that they are not more defective than the rest of the human race, that God’s grace is available to them and that things can be different.”

If you yourself are struggling with cutting or other forms of self-harm, take the first step: tell someone — a friend, a mentor or someone you know has gone through this. Students who are interested in counseling can contact Steve Brasel, who coordinates requests for individual counseling, at steve.brasel@moody.edu.

—–

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Healthwise: advice for your optimal well being

According to an article on cnn.com, the three killed in the blast were Krystle Campbell, 29, native of Arlington, Massachusetts but living in Boston; Martin Richard, 8, of Dorchester, Massachusetts; and Lingzi Lu, 23, a Chinese graduate student at Boston University. Of the 264 people injured in the attacks, some received minor injuries while others sustained extremely critical injuries, including lost limbs.

From video footage collected in the hours after the attack, the police were able to formulate clear images of two suspects who left the bombs in black backpacks at two positions near the finish line of the race. In the videos, the suspects remained completely calm after the bomb blasts while the crowd around them panicked.

As cnn.com reported, the acts of the suspects — brothers Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, 19, and Tarmerlan Tsarnaev, 26 — were labeled acts of terror by President Obama. Chicagotribune.com further reported that the Chechen immigrants were caught up in a firefight with police officers around 1 p.m. on Thursday, April 18, which killed the older brother, Tamerlan. The younger brother was caught that Friday afternoon with severe injuries, including gunshot wounds to his legs, neck and hand. As reported in the Chicago Tribune, “Tsarnaev was charged with using a weapon of mass destruction and with malicious destruction of property resulting in death. Each count carries the possibility of the death penalty if he is convicted.”

In the days after the bombings, investigations have turned up evidence that the Tsarnaevs may have been radicalized by Muslims in their native Russia. Reuters.com noted, “But a picture has emerged [of Dzhokhar] in the days since Tamerlan was killed of a proud but angry young man who never quite achieved his own idea of the American dream, but found solace instead in a radical form of Islam adopted by fighters in his homeland.”

The Chicago Tribune reports that he has taken responsibility for the attacks and claims that he and his brother acted alone. He is being tried in a civilian court even though some called for him to be tried in a military court as an enemy combatant, giving him fewer rights. Foxnews.com recently reported that Dzhokhar has been transferred to the Federal Medical Center at Fort Devens in Ft. Devens, Massachusetts.

President Obama, USA Today reports, urged Americans on Friday, April 19 to remain patient and to be cautious when making conclusions about the attack. “It’s important that we do this right,” he said. “That’s why we have investigations. That’s why we relentlessly gather the facts. That’s why we have courts. And that’s why we take care not to rush to judgment, not about the motivations of these individuals; certainly not about entire groups of people.”

—–

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Political Pulse: keeping up to date on US political news

It was a warm day, but the clouds were rolling in, and I knew the rain was coming. I didn’t want to get stuck indoors in my room all afternoon, so I decided to just take off solo to study. I loaded up my backpack and headed to Chairs Coffee House, my favorite local coffee shop, a fifteen-minute walk away. The owners, Mitch and Chris, were always warm and inviting. Their dog, a hopelessly adorable lab and retriever mix named Ace, would hang out in their office in the back or in the parking lot. I was always allowed to go say hi, which made me happy as I was always homesick for my own two dogs.

I walked down Indiana Avenue with quick, determined steps. It was starting to sprinkle, and I did not want to get caught in the rain. It was at a crosswalk, as I was waiting for the little green walking man to appear, that a man suddenly appeared at my side and started to make small talk. Now, normally I avoided speaking to random strangers where I lived in Spokane: my girlfriends and I had had too many sketchy encounters. Yet there was something about this man that didn’t seem threatening in the least. He seemed friendly and a bit quirky. No one could have missed him on this dreary gray day. He wore a neon orange sweatshirt and beanie. He was also carrying a cardboard box full of what looked like donations.

While I can’t remember exactly what we chatted about it those few moments, I do remember what he said as we started to cross the street together: he asked me if I was in middle school. I was shocked but tried to hide it. People often think I’m a year or two younger than I actually am, but I had never gotten confused for a preteen. I told him very kindly that I was a freshman in college.
“Oh that’s great! You’re a short person with tall dreams then, huh?”

“Yeah…” I think I awkwardly chuckled. What does that even mean?

We had finished crossing the street and he was about to head in a different direction. He decided to give the short girl some advice:
“Let me tell you something that’s really going to help you, ok? Always hand-pick your friends. Trust me, it saves you a lot of trouble.”

“Ok … thanks!”

And with that he was gone.

This encounter puzzled me for the rest of the day. Hand-pick my friends? Isn’t that what everyone does? People don’t pick your friends for you. My brightly colored friend was probably just a little off his rocker.

I did have to admit, however, that the “short person with tall dreams” reference made me laugh, and to this day, I sometimes like to refer to myself that way. And while this conversation did not change my life or open up the heavens with revelation, I truly believe God used it to remind me of those simple moments that are often overlooked. I can aspire for greater things, even when I don’t know where they’ll lead me. I can dream of being an author, just like when I was kindergarten. True friends (the ones you hand-pick, apparently) will stay by your side, even when you’re halfway across the country in a big city like Chicago. It’s these little truths that stay with you the longest, and the ones which ultimately make up the most beautiful moments in life.

—–

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7th Inning Stretch: taking a breather from the craziness of college life
by Katrina Palazuelos Rico, sports editor

“Writing music isn’t about getting a good reaction, it’s about praising God — it doesn’t even need to be heard by an audience,” says Nathan Larsen, freshman composition major. He adds that most of the music he has written has never been heard by an audience. Larsen has taken a biblical perspective on music, viewing it as a form of worship. He says that on his journey as a musician and child of God, he has found both energy and healing in composition, which he considers an artful form of musical expression.

“Nathan is a very ambitious and gifted composer. He is a musical sponge and volcano: he is eager to absorb any musical input that he can learn … Once he learns it, he puts it into his musical magma and heats up and erupts with glittering compositions,” said Dr. Jang, professor of music and composition.

Larsen has been playing piano for well over a decade, and his journey as a composer began when he was about ten years old. Through the inspiration of a church friend named Collin Stoddard, who founded the band 33 Miles, Larsen began writing his own music. In addition to his studies in classical piano, Larsen further cultivated his musicality by taking professional lessons in songwriting from a famous 80s songwriter named Tom Beard.

Larsen says his journey as a composer hasn’t been easy, as he finds songwriting can be discouraging. He says not many people are around to affirm talents and encourage growth in the early career of a composer, but that is only a worldly way of thinking about music. His eternal perspective on worshipful composition has kept him going. Though there were dry times, Larsen says life experiences caused his imagination to stir, and over the years his composition skills have developed greatly.

This was made evident in the recent MBI Composers’ Recital where Larsen performed two of his instrumental compositions. The first was a piano solo called “Dream of Love,” and the other was a piano duet called “The Long Journey,” which he played with Vince Schiller, senior composition major. Both numbers demonstrated excellence at the piano as an instrument and ingenuity in the weaving of intricate and expressive melodies. After the concert Schiller said, “Nathan has become an accomplished composer and songwriter, and I think he has a very promising future in continuing to study composition.”

In the future Larsen hopes to reach the secular world with his music. He says that the educational and professional world of composition is very godless, and that he would love to be used in a way that would bring light into that side of the music world. Larsen is also interested in film scoring. He has a close friend who is studying film, and Larsen is his personal composer. Larsen plans on impacting the world with his talents by teaching composition in higher education and by composing music in the professional realm.

—–

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Artist Next Door: musicians, storytellers, painters, sculptors,
graphic designers and all the sort here at Moody

Dr. Trevor Burke will be leaving the Moody community at the end of this year. After nine years of teaching in classes like Greek grammar and exegesis, Romans, and Pauline Epistles III, Burke has accepted a teaching post in Oak Hill Theological College, a seminary in London, England. At Oak Hill, he will be teaching in both their MA and MTh degree programs.

Burke noted that he had mixed feelings about leaving Moody, but that the teaching position at Oak Hill would be an excellent way to get back into the type of work he did prior to Moody. According to almanac.logos.com, Burke — who is originally from Belfast, Northern Ireland — taught at seminaries in Nigeria and Wales and before coming to Moody served as New Testament Lecturer and head of the Department for Biblical Studies at Pacific Theological College in Suva, Fiji.

With his ministry in a wide variety of places around the world, Burke brought a special perspective into the Bible department. Dr. Gerald Peterman, head of the Bible department, noted that Burke made a unique contribution to the department as a whole: “He brings a wealth of pastoral and missionary experience, as well as his scholarly writing. There is no one else in the department like him.”
Anna Schwenk, senior pre-counseling major and Dr. Burke’s TA, said, “What I appreciate most about him is he is a scholar, but also has a warm heart. … Just the other day I was meeting with him, and as I walked away, I was so blessed and encouraged by our conversation.”

When asked to comment, Kate Kuntzman, senior pre-counseling major, said, “He’s such a sweet Irishman. That’s what I like about him.”
Alongside his teaching at Moody, Burke has done extensive research into the New Testament theme of Sonship and Adoption. He has published two books focused on these subjects, one in 2006 titled “Adopted into God’s Family” for the New Studies in Biblical Theology series, and one in 2011 in the Bible Speaks Today series titled “The Message of Sonship.” Before these, Burke’s first book was titled “Family Matters: A Socio-historical Study of Kinship Metaphors in 1 Thessalonians,” and he has edited two collections of academic essays as well.

“We’ll miss him a lot,” Peterman said. “He makes a really, really valuable contribution, but we wish him well, and we know why he wants to move; he’ll be closer to his two sons who are in the UK.” As Burke looked back on his time at Moody, he said, “I have enjoyed teaching and mentoring students over the years and will miss their interaction a lot.”

Stunning images capture the golden hours of day and the elegant frame of the human body as poetic French voices speak in the opening scenes of Terrance Malick’s newest film, “To the Wonder.” The American screenwriter and director displays yet again his mastery of filmmaking. Although many critics have called this latest endeavor his least successful piece, its artistry is unparalleled.

The film focuses on an American, Neil (Ben Affleck), and a French woman, Marina (Olga Kurylenko), who have fallen in love in France. Marina, who has a daughter from a previous union, moves to wide-open rural Oklahoma with Neil. But what seemed to be a budding life-long love soon turns sour. Marina, who seems to twirl through life, swings from bubbly and joyful to cold and fearful while Neil hardly seems to engage his emotions at all.

Marina goes back to France and Neil reengages with a previous love, Jane (Rachel McAdams). This also is short-lived, and it is not long before Marina returns to Neil and the two marry in a courthouse wedding. Their relationship continues to be uninspiring and distant. All this is told with minimal dialogue. Any explanations or inner thoughts are expressed through whispering voiceovers, as is typical in Malick films.

Interlaced with the story of the lovers is the story of Quintana (Javier Bardem), a priest struggling to love God who goes out into the community serving and praying for the “least of these.” He offers a unique perspective of faith and often speaks about love. While his storyline seems as if it’s part of another film, it conveys the major theme of the film — namely love — in a new perspective.

The storyline, if you could call it that, leaves the viewer detached from the characters, a complaint of some critics, but perhaps exactly the feeling Malick was trying to inspire. The lovers in the story feel distant and cold, and that is precisely what the audience feels while watching them; it is an ironic, and perhaps purposeful, result. “To the Wonder” seems to deviate from Malick’s previous work in its romance/drama emphasis, but it evokes his past work in its aesthetics and esoteric appeal. This work marks his third collaboration with cinematographer Emanuel Lubezki.

While “To the Wonder” does not seem to measure up to the heights of Malick’s last work, “The Tree of Life,” it is beautifully crafted. He affords his films an impeccable attention to detail, which allows them to be taken in like literature, layer by layer. Each scene and shot is purposeful and precise, and while it may not be his most inspiring work, it is a remarkably beautiful film. “To the Wonder” is rated R for sexuality and nudity, though the scenes are not necessarily erotic.

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Fresh Craft: new creations — music, books, plays, and the lot — that may influence the future of art

by Noelle Beck senior theology

“A Lament”

How long before You grab him?
How long before You rip
Him open
And travel him?
How long  before You take him
And undress him
And wash the dirt off his body
And pour hallelujahs like streams of water
Into his dry and barren mouth?
How long before You roar
In his ear
And cover him in your skin
And infuse your blood into his veins
And say no longer in his ears
And irreversibly own him
And preserve him
And brand him
And remind him
That he belongs
Entirely,
Completely,
Irrevocably
To You?
How long before he is naked and dim and deaf
And so far down
In the murk of Sheol
That You will erupt
A jungle of praise on his tongue?
How long will he go on leaving You?
How long before he remembers
That he can never escape
Or hide
Or somehow free himself
From the bonds that have enslaved him
Bound him
Unified him
To You?
How long Oh LORD? How long?

—–

Submitted for the 2013 Art Anthology.

By Ethan Borman

Chapter #1

Strudelgoon, yeah only Ethan would imagine something so crazy, but it’s true.  I was only twelve at the time, just sitting on my red and green polka dotted mushroom eating some pine needles from the Gruznup trees around the boarder of the Castle Zan, when.

‘Zip!’ One would have thought Aunt Pricilla was zipping up her night gown, but out here in the Gruznup trees it could be nothing other than the sound of whirling air over a fast pace object.  I listened again and I was sure this time when it passed, it was not Aunt Pricilla’s pajamas.  I watched through the trees for the sound again, but soon got bored with my soggy pine needles and splotchy mushroom and decided to turn back into a willow tree when it came again.

‘Zip!’ I froze half rooted listening hard. Varell, yellow Varell, no—maybe not yellow Varell—a yellow turnip.  It had to be something yellow whatever it was. Well it’s gone now, whatever it was.

‘Zip!’

‘Zip!’

‘Smack!’

“OW!” I snorted, and looked down to see the damage. Low and behold at my feet lay a brown bundle of dust.  I should have known it was a lint ball, everything pointed to it.  I knelt down to poke at the ghastly lump but thought better and reached for a fallen Gruznup hair with which to poke it with. What a fuzzy mess this is. Ethan imagined it belonged to a large cat or something like that and that it had accumulated under that cat’s collar passed from generation to generation as cat collars do and that it had finally evolved into this zipiddy little lint ball sitting now in front of me, Ethan has a crazy imagination but a true one.

I poked the thing with the Grouznup hair and found it not to be so much as Ethan imagined but more (oh what a convoluted brain you have). For when I poked the shabby thing out popped a strudel.  I loved strudels at least every kind except pepper, and I had, had almost every kind from pumpkin to Wazernan bug. To my enjoyment this one was jellow, something I had never had before but was looking forward to.  I touched the tip of my nose with the Grouznup hair and smiled, and then sneezed because Grouznup hairs tickle awful, and then picked up the jellow strudel ready to partake of its jelliness when the mass moved and grooved in front of me. Strange for it to dance with no music, but Ethan does have an imagination.

I leapt to my toadstool of course and almost slipped on its slime, I love the feel of slime between my toes.  What, I though moves and grooves and gives out jellied goodness, I often think of riddles when I have been frightened just to pass the time till my heart stops beating so fast. I really did not know the answer so I took a voluptuous bite of the jellied goodness and that’s when it came to Ethan’s imagination, the made up but real answer to the riddle.

“That which is a Strudelgoon.” And I knew I had gotten it right because I could feel the warmth of a spring breeze tickling my hat hairs. This must be what it feels like to be Adam. I had named my first animal, linty though it was and had done a good job. It was at this time that I realized it was rapidly moving away, though it, it no longer was but a Strudelgoon. So I leapt from my toadstool to give chase to the Strudelgoon because a legend had already formed in Ethan’s imagination about the little goon and lots of Strudel’s were involved.

What is a Strudelgoon?  I hoped after it as Ethan remembered Strudelgoons were magical creatures who lived underground beneath the Grouznup trees and the black and brown soil all the way down past the crumble of the earth into the clay, stones and purple rocks. The reason they lived there was because it was their home, and they loved the way the purple stones glowed when the yellow worms licked them.  It was fortunate that they lived under the earth because if they had lived above I would have never had the chance to go under.  Ethan has a strange fascination with tunnels so I have always wanted to see one, especially because I have always been rather suspicious when I let my roots down into the crumbly soil past the clay, stones and, purple rocks.

Octopus and centapus two malevolent beings of the underworld stories of the deep riddled with mystery.  It is important to note Ethan’s sudden change of mood at this moment. I have noticed in the past that this often leads me to my doom or at least as close as I can be to it. I saw the Strudelgoon zip into the forbidden underworld and fear over took me for from the miry walls of the gaping maw to Hades stuck the dead tentacles of dusty centapi, leering their twigged and spoked appendages to the now unpleasant entrance.  I was entirely aghast and ill from the sight of them.  I balked as my roots slithered down into the soggy leaves what a comforting feeling.  I could forget the Strudelgoon, and maybe even Ethan could forget the Strudelgoon. Oh, but fate loves a complacent its subjects, and fate thrives in path of the unwilling, and I was both; until fate.  Oh, Ethan what a cruel master you are, for on the very doorstep of earths corrupted navel was a strudel, golden in the shattered moonlight of the bleeding night. I did not even feel my roots slipping up through the crumbly soil and precluded leaves releasing me from my secure and earthly grasp.

Euphoria is a word Ethan should use more in his vocabulary when describing strudels, but I am afraid he does not enjoy strudels as much as I do.  By euphoria much can be accomplished.  Have you ever seen a Grouznup tree leaning over to dip its needles into a Nuzzgrey mire during the rise of the second moon thru the month of the Fernal Equinox? The gentle glow from the second moon sets the mire on fire which makes the Wazernan bugs desire the soft branches of the Grouznup trees, which slowly tips their needley fingers into miry fire. When this happens the needles do not burn but pop sending out seeds to all Favgrile of the lake feeding them to the end of the Fernal Equinox.  If what Ethan says of the Strudelgoon is true, then perhaps I could be a Nuzzgrey mire during the Fernal Equinox. And then change my role to the Fravgrile and be fed strudels for the rest of an Equinox.

I drew in as much light as I could out of the dimming day and plunged into the gaping hole dodging dusty centapi.  I had passed through the opening and for what, strudels, Ethan knew how much I loved strudels and now he was going to get the better work of the day out of me for them.  Though that day was almost gone, as the light behind me dimmed as the day light passed beyond the hills, I began to regret my decision as the hole began to become increasingly dark.  The Vin worms were now jumping through the dirt on my sides like little black dolphins and the Hollow bats were flapping at my twiggy hair.

A low almost black light lit the cave ahead setting my white bark aglow. I welcomed this dingy apparition, because my supply of daylight was running low and I needed to save some for my trip out.  Of course I had not thought of the trip out till now, how cruel of Ethan to not mention it, perhaps this was a large tunnel that would eventually lead to the bottom side of the world where the sun goes to sleep at night.  Maybe I could get more light from the sun if the sun had not yet been tucked in by the giant sloths that lived there.  Chances are the sun would remember that time I gave back the ray the High Spire of Zan knocked off last Yellow Day Parade, and be gracious to me and give me the daylight needed to make it back to my side of the world.  Ethan most likely put these thoughts in my head to distract me from fear of darkness. It was working. And always in my mind was the thought of those strudels.

Finally the ghastly centapi ceased their dusty dangling and I stepped into a hollowed chamber lined with large newt scales that reflected the glow of a low dark flame in the middle of the room.  The flame was fed by a tube of cat intestine attached to a giant, blackened newt egg that leaked orange viscous liquid from a small crack on one side. Next to this egg was a small tepee constructed with newt bones and root bark.  The earth in this chamber was smooth and hard and when I tried to get a hold with my roots I found it difficult to crumble.  At this moment I saw a muted movement on my left where the tepee sat nestled next to the wall of the cave. I say muted because it made no sound. I saw no more movement so I decided to be on my way when a gurgle voice slammed against my ear canvas from behind me.

“Vurgles, knowed a newt when he see’d one and youse be a strangen.” I spun around and looked at the creature that had spoken. Oh Ethan what have you done, another odd creature sort of ambiguous in form, and loud in action to hamper my impending quest…

This creature who called its self Vurgles as Ethan saw him looked to be of the reptile persuasion. His neck looked straggled and his digging nails glowed white in the spark flecked light of the cave.  His green and black slivered eyes dilated on my rough barky skin.  He just crouched there his words still waving in the air like a wind tossed castle flag.  For it was at this moment that in the dark cold of the cave the crumbling dirt stood soft and still and the Vurgles, wafted the flat, earthy currents with his licorice langue.  The silence was almost broken by a yellow drop of flax from the celling but Vurgles started before the flax, and he sang. He sang like the blooming of the Petalsel, like the death of the great Providersaur and I wept as he sang:

Fur in mai tribe scaly grey,

In twixt the depths of earthy bowl,

Mai fam’ly about mee lay,

And o’up dey urttled, dem scaly foul,

Da vi’ti’ous newts, ov’ under e’rt’,

Oo clum from dep neith da loam,

Tu attack mai fam’ly ‘mong da dirt,

Dey tore and shredded mai ‘ome

Dey et and consummated mai fam’ly,

Mai fader, oo’s brave, did fight.

Yet aul mai fam’ly lay dead and ca’mly,

Der fires wet out tu show night,

And I aaloon, did hide in dis ‘ere cav’,

Tu await mai fate a quarlous turn,

I sook da newt ‘ead tu hav’

And da newt fighten did I learn.

And the Vurgles wept and I knew that though I had been born but a week ago with all my of my previous growthpa’s memories in my bark cells Vurgles would only and could only remember his past through his song and memory lights.

“Vurgles, doth se’ dat ya be no’t ay foe.” And he slowly slithered into his root bark tent his eyes dripping with warm puddles.

And I know it was not really the right time for it here but I was pretty sure it was time for it somewhere else and I was sure the Strudelgoon was getting away so I called after the weeping wizard lizard plucking the strings of my vocal cords as I did. “Vuggles, have you seen that which is fuzzy with strudels?”

I could hear a small hiss of breath and then the word floated out of the tent, “Rid’dels,” And up popped Vurgles head like a toadstool in the cool of the night, “Ay, tuld ya mai nam tis Vurglesss nut Vugglusss. Be gone wit ya!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Vurgles I just have a gap in my barky belly for strudels and want to fill it.”

“Vurgles tis nut ‘ungry. Vurgles et ul’ready.” With this he licked his blue lips with his licorice tongue and bat his green eyes once. His head began to descend like a setting sun below the tent flap.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered, gathering my letters, “But you see the Studdelgoon as Ethan has called it just went this way and I believe it would be of benefit to catch.

Up bobbed his head and his licorice tongue twisted strait as he said, “S’ss’ss’tuooodelgooon!” up he leapt and spread his digger claws wide.

Quite startled by this display I realized my roots were crumbling at hard smooth earth of the cave and I pulled them up with a quick flash of my wit, and came at the exclamation with an apology, “S-sorry,” I was beginning to sound like him, “I know you have not had the best of a living, but just think of all those strudels.”

“Yessssssssss,” the hiss almost made my twigs snap, but before I could stop the buzzing in my teeth. The little Vurgles was clambering up my trunkso to my cheek bone to peer into my window. “Yessssssssssssss,” He clapped the cymbal again and I reached for my face to wrap my fingers around Vurgles, but before I could he was on the ground before me with a twist of his stocky legs. “Truths-es-es, come dis way. I cun smell its path.” I stood rooted my roots all but up as Vurgles tread around the cave frantically, “AAAH!” he piped, “Com’on plant, dis vay.”

Chapter #2

In Ethan’s imagination there exists a great land under the earth…

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Submitted for the 2013 Art Anthology.