Penn Epistle: Fragments by Penn Epistle

FRAGMENTS

THE PENN EPISTLE

FALL/WINTER 2023

EDITORIAL BOARD

MANY THANKS TO...

Ellie Shuert, Editor-in-Chief Joshua Anumolu, Editor Caitlin Evans, Editor Sarah Hinkel, Editor Madeeha Mirza, Editor Matthew Burst, Business Manager Jade Castillo Hermosillo, Social Media/ Design Manager Sydney Huang, Social Media/ Design Manager Hyniff Collins, Design Team

The Faith Fund Augustine Collective

CONTRIBUTORS Nicholas Anane, C’24 Joshua Anumolu, C’23 Luke Baber, W’25 Jade Castillo Hermosillo, C’25 Hyniff Collins, C’26 Destiny Dennis, C’24 Caitlin Evans, C’23 Carson Fisher, C’26 Brandon Fong, C’26 Sarah Hinkel, C’25 Sydney Huang, W’23 Sid Kanderi, SEAS’24 Jehuda Kusuma, C’23 Madeeha Mirza, C’24 Ellie Shuert, C’24

IMAGE CREDITS Canva Vecteezy

SUBSCRIBE Visit us at pennepistle.org for more content and to read past editions. If you are interested in resources regarding Christianity, please email us at thepennepistle@gmail.com. 2

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR Dear reader, During the many months we spent creating this issue, we often listened to Billie Eilish’s “What Was I Made For?” Besides being a song we all enjoyed, we found it pertinent to the theme of this issue, which is focused on identity. It often feels reductive and impossible to cobble all these fragments together into a coherent, unique identity that can be summarized on a Pinterest mood board and is strong enough to remain intact against the challenges of the modern world. Beyond that, our personality traits, tastes, memories, and ambitions are always changing. Against this acute pressure from the world to define myself fully, to find who I am and what I was made for so early in life, I’ve had to turn to the person that knows me better than I know myself: Jesus Christ. This person sees the best in me. He has seen me on my best and worst days. When I see myself as incomplete, He sees me as complete in all the ways that matter. Because of Him, I am healed, I live forever, I have an inheritance, I have a family, I have a status, future, and purpose that is unchanging. Through this issue, I invite you to journey with the Epistle writers. Read how we see ourselves and the basis for our confidence. Read to see how the fragments of our hearts have been reconciled. Adopt our viewpoint—just as an experiment—see what you discover about yourself. Blessings,

Ellie Shuert

Editor-In-Chief

Table of Contents Identity Paradox 4 The Joshua Anumolu

in Fraternity 18 Faith Luke Baber

with Legs 6 Faith Sydney Huang

Beyond Measure 20 Loved Destiny Dennis

08 Meaning of Sonship 8 The Sid Kanderi

Dialogue 22 AMadeeha Mirza

in Community 10 Uniqueness Brandon Fong

and Sweat 24 Smoke Jehuda Kusuma

in You 12 Hidden Jade Hermosillo Castillo

26 Breakables Ellie Shuert

14 Define: Sexual Beings

of Thorns 28 Crown Nicholas Anane

Visible and Invisible Church 16 The Carson Fisher

Am I? 30 Who Sarah Hinkel

THE IDENTITY PARADOX Joshua Anumolu

This past spring, I took a history class on pre-modern Islamic empires. In one class, the professor mentions Ismail I, the Safavid king (AD 15011524), who considered himself the Mahdi, the Islamic Messiah. As he won more and more campaigns, seemingly invincible, his view of himself only became more cemented. I imagine what it must have felt like to believe that you are the Messiah; talk about self-confidence! But then, of course, it turned out he was not actually the Mahdi. When the Safavids lost against the Ottomans in 1514 and crushed Ismail’s sense of self, he withdrew from military and political life with an overwhelming case of imposter syndrome. Intrigued, I look up from my notes to hear the professor draw a parallel to Penn students who are humbled from high school success upon matriculation to college. On the trolley ride home, I reflected upon the comparison. Many Penn students have a difficult time adjusting amid their peers. Many of us have an inflated sense of self, perhaps as valedictorian of our schools, that is completely deflated and crushed upon our first ECON or CIS exam; we are not as remarkable as we thought we were.

“Why are we not angry if we are told that we have a headache, and why are we angry if we are told that we reason badly, or choose wrongly?” —EPICETUS When an asset bubble falls, the market corrects an unjustified price. The market correction may be painful, but it is necessary for the asset's true value to be appreciated.

How do you react when your conception of yourself is challenged? Growing up in Sunday school, I learned about another Middle Eastern emperor, this time a millennium before Ismail I, in the Chaldean Empire. Nebuchadnezzar II "the Great" presided over—and expanded—the Babylonian Empire for almost sixty years. He had an impressive resume, being called the most powerful man on earth, earning decisive military conquests in the Levant, and completing massive construction projects, including the lost Hanging Gardens of Babylon. So, similarly to Ismail I, an inflated sense of self is somewhat to be expected.

But when his gargantuan ego led him to lift himself up against heaven and take all the credit for his glory, God humbled him: he was "made to eat grass like an ox" (Daniel 4:32). After seven years of chewing the cud, he was restored to reason, blessing the "Most High" as such:

For his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation; all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, “What have you done?” —DANIEL 4:34-35 After his humbling experience, God restored his position. Now, with even more majesty and splendor than before, he returned that praise and honor back to the King of heaven.

What if you are not the main character in your story? When I was a freshman, I had a conversation with a senior in my college ministry about the busyness of Penn students. I remarked, “But at least college students learn through being overworked that one cannot do everything under the sun." But he responded, "Actually, I think Penn students learn the opposite: that they can do everything, and it will all be fine.” I was quite struck by his response because to me, it was not all fine. The rampant mental health crisis and the loneliness and belonging issues our campus faces are not secret. I wonder if it is not only the overworking but also the high expectations we impose on ourselves that have something to do with our hidden sickness.

The problem is not that your expectations and views of self are adjusted, crushed, or disappointed. It’s in how much weight you put in yourself. The extent to which having your own expectations crushed will lead to an existential crisis depends on how much weight you put in your projection of yourself. It depends on how important it is that you make the right decisions; how important it is that you can meet your own selfprojected image. You have the vision of the "self-made person." Okay, good. What if it turns out you fall short of that self-constructed facade? What then?

Decisions have a way of revealing identity fractures. This past semester, I was applying for jobs for post-graduation. I was fortunate to receive two job offers at about the same time. This was supposed to be a time of great peace and thanksgiving. However, having to make a choice caused much consternation and anxiety—more than I expected. After reflecting on it more, I realized it was because the choice revealed an underlying tension in how I viewed myself. One of the jobs was more technically oriented, the other more business-y and based on soft skills. I struggled to choose one because I was not sure if I was more of a "quant" or "business" guy. Being forced to make a decision made me feel like I had to forsake part of my identity. I was privileged and blessed to even have a choice, so it was a silly reason to be distraught… but maybe that's the point. No matter how well life is going materially, it has a way of forcing us to make decisions that challenge our sense of self. And the more our sense of security stems from our fragile sense of self, the more we will fall to pieces.

What if the most important aspect of our identity is not demographic or on our résumé but related to our intrinsic value as human beings? I do not throw out all the beautiful aspects of my identity that my God designed; rather, my identity lies in concentric circles, with certain unchangeable, unalienable truths being the forces that guide me forward and inform the other ever-changing and shifting circles. This is, perhaps, part of what it means for Jesus Christ to be the solid Rock on which I stand. It is not just an old hymn I sing to feel good, but rather it is an eternal, existential truth that contextualizes myself amidst a world that is otherwise meaningless, hopeless, and nihilistic. This Rock is the only aspect of being that is Hope: like gravity, a universally true principle of reality.

It’s not so foreign of a concept. Whenever we dedicate ourselves to something greater than ourselves, in losing self, we gain self. Those who have dedicated themselves to a sports team, have volunteered for a social impact NGO, or have sacrificed themselves for a family member or friend have experienced this. The purer the devotion, the sacrifice, the forgetting of the self, the more palpable, the more deeply felt the fulfillment of self. As psychotherapist Viktor Frankl wrote, “It is my conviction that man should not, indeed cannot, struggle for identity in a direct way; he rather finds identity to the extent to which he commits himself to something beyond himself, to a cause greater than himself… It makes no sense to confront man with values which are seen merely as a form of self-expression…

The meaning which a being has to fulfill is something beyond himself, it is never just himself.” —VICTOR FRANKL [1] Maybe the most important part of our identity, ironically, lies not in self-realization and actualization. Maybe the most important aspect of finding our identity is to completely forget and abandon the pursuit of the self and the individual identity we strive to obtain. I've come to believe that the best way to understand our personal identity is to realize that it is not the most important aspect of ourselves. Rather, the most important aspect of ourselves lies in what we share with other human beings, not our uniqueness. That we are sons and daughters of God. That He is the main character, and we are all side characters in His big story. The beauty of the identity paradox is that in forsaking personal identity, one secures it. As I understand my identity as Abba's child, I become more secure in who I am. As I serve the role of a minor character in His big story, I am less fazed by the curveballs of life. As I learn to make the unconditional love of God the basis of my personal worth, my inner imposter preoccupied with approval and acceptance shrinks and shrinks; I find freedom in being my true self with God. As my Lord taught,

Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. —MATTHEW 10:39 [1] Viktor Frankl, Psychotherapy and Existentialism: Selected Papers on Logotherapy (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1967), p. 9-11.

FAITH WITH LEGS Sydney Huang Eric Liddell was born in 1902 in Tientsin, China to two Scottish missionaries. Liddell was a Scottish runner who competed at the 1924 Olympic Games in Paris, winning gold in the 400meter run and bronze in the 200-meter. He first gained recognition by winning the 100- and 200-meter runs at a British national championship event, which granted him the 1924 Olympic appearance. However, he dropped out of his signature event—the 100-meter dash—because the finals were on Sunday, the Sabbath, and he trained for two other events which he ended up winning medals in. But his life was about more than running; after the Olympics, Liddell returned to China alongside his wife and children to continue being a missionary. Sadly, in 1945, Liddell passed away while in a Japanese internment camp during World War II. One of his most popular quotes says,

“God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” —ERIC LIDDELL It seems to me that Liddell knew what his purpose was not only in his sport, but also in life. He saw the gift that the Lord gave him in athleticism and used it to glorify Him. Liddell genuinely enjoyed his sport but was not so attached to it or immersed in it that it became his identity. He gladly gave up the rest of his running career to be a missionary in China. At the time of the 1924 Olympics, he was the fastest sprinter in the world and probably could have gone on to win many more races. His courage to give up his signature event in the 200 to keep the Sabbath and his strength to endure the ridicule of his teammates and the press is a courage and strength I wish I had at Penn. For far too much of my Penn career, I was concerned with achieving and excelling beyond others in my sport. I wanted to be the best. Though there is nothing wrong with wanting to pursue excellence, nor wanting to contribute greatly as a team player, I fell into a trap of pride and let my sport consume my life at Penn. I would sit in class and replay practices or games in my head or sit there with a cloud of anxiety thinking about practice coming right after. I was always drained in some way —mentally and physically—by my sport. But I don’t think that is the effect the Lord intended for the gift of sports. I was so caught up in thinking my sport, field hockey, was the be-all and end-all to my joy. I had to be the fastest and selfishly wanted to be the best, and when I wasn’t, my pride crumbled— and so did my mood, my happiness, my joy, and my confidence. First off, I was used to the acclaim of being a big fish in a small high school pond, so when I got to Penn, my

identity and confidence were shaky. Throughout the years, I learned what it meant to secure myself in Christ before looking to any other activity or person for my identity. With how much variance there is in sports performance—playing well in games, having good practices or bad ones, being a starter—I was tiring myself out with the emotional volatility of it all. However, the answer was not to withdraw, stop caring, or isolate myself. I think the answer was to remind myself of the truth day in and day out; the Lord intended for me to come to Penn and have the sports career that I did. He intended for me to have athletic strengths and weaknesses, in some cases to teach me humility and dependence on Him, and in other cases to remind me that I had no doing in some of my athleticism, and it was to bring me closer to Him. Realizing and trusting that every minute detail of my sports career fell into the palms of His hands gave me such freedom and peace. In Liddell’s quote, there is an acknowledgement that physical ability comes from Someone, that success is not completely a product of your own doing, and that there’s a specific purpose to using your gift. At Penn, the “someone” is usually your own greatness and work ethic, and the purpose is to glorify yourself and your name and reach as much acclaim as you can. But that leaves you in despair when you get injured, when you don’t get to start, when you lose a big game, or when your Penn career just doesn’t go as planned. How do you cope then? What do you say to yourself? Do you keep searching for other things at Penn that will satisfy you and make you feel better about yourself in the absence of sports to fill that lacking in your life? And even if you are successful and get all those things, it still isn’t enough; there’s still a yearning felt within for something that the first achievement didn’t completely satisfy. The Catechism of the Catholic Church reads, “The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God; and God never ceases to draw man to himself. Only in God will he find the truth and happiness he never stops searching for” (CCC 27). This is the truth that captured Liddel’s heart; God drew Liddel to Himself using his speed but also his success. Liddell knew that there was something greater and more satisfying than living the life of a world-renowned athlete—it was following and loving God. That is what allowed him to give up his athletic success for mission work. And even if Liddell didn’t have nearly as successful an athletic career as he did, I think that quote would still exist and his attitude towards running would remain the same. How, then, can someone navigate Penn athletics?

I would tell my freshman year self to work heartily as if I were working for the Lord (Colossians 3:23-24), to trust the Lord (Proverbs 3:5), and to hold fast the confession of my hope without wavering (Hebrews 10:23). “Whatever your task, work heartily, as serving the Lord and not men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward; you are serving the Lord Christ.” (Colossians 3:23-24 RSV). When I told myself that I was working for the Lord’s approval and not

man’s, I felt more freedom to play with joy. The pressure of playing a DI sport oftentimes drains the love of the sport from you. Going to practice was not enjoyable but stress-inducing, and that’s because I was trying to gain the approval of my coach and my teammates.

I placed a higher emphasis on their approval and positive view of me and ignored just playing and competing in such a manner that honored the Lord. I did not treat the Lord rightfully as the One who held my reward. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5). My college experience would have been more peaceful and more honoring to the Lord if I had stopped striving. Yes, I wanted to work hard and honor the Lord with my work ethic, but the result was not in my hands. It was the Lord who would decide what happened to me in my athletics career. My identity was tied so much to the achievements I wanted that I had very little peace. We might not always understand why we suffer an injury or why a certain loss occurs, but we can trust that the Lord has an intention for all of it, and it is for our good (Romans 8:28). “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23). I developed a strong faith in high school and wanted to live out my faith in college. But when it came to being immersed in a culture and environment that was so worldly and didn’t explicitly reject faith but looked down upon it, it was hard standing up for the truth of the values that I held to. God blessed me with close friends that held me accountable, but I always felt the heavy tug of the culture on my heart. Hold fast—He is faithful. He is calling us to be His light wherever we walk. Like Liddell, never shy away from the opportunity to express and share your faith. There is a special way that athletics connects you to God. New Testament authors employ athletic language like running “with perseverance the race marked out for us” (Hebrews 12:1 NIV), fighting “the good fight” (2 Timothy 4:7) for the prize of salvation and not fighting like a “boxer beating the air” (1 Corinthians 9:26 NIV). There is a sanctifying effect the Lord can introduce through athletics and physicality. Using your body in sports can teach you tangible lessons about perseverance, discipline, and grit that faith and salvation demand. Moreover, you are exploring and exercising what God has made you good at and blessed you with. I wish I had learned of Liddell’s story years before I got to Penn. Now, after reflecting on my four years, I can see how I turned my athletic performance into a platform for myself and didn’t view it as a gift to pursue holiness within. Liddell allowed his worship to be his running; he didn’t worship running; he let his running experience sanctify his soul and help him detach from worldly accomplishments. For athletes at Penn and at any other university, there is something more beautiful and valuable about who you are than your sports accolades—and Liddell knew that. It is an identity placed upon you by the Someone that is infinitely more beautiful and valuable than any award or accomplishment.

THE MEANING OF SONSHIP Sid Kanderi A common colloquialism that exists is the idea that we are all “children of God.” Outside of a confessional belief system, one’s first impression of this terminology seems to indicate that it ascribes a higher dignity to the human character. On a basic level, when we attribute man’s origin of generation to something which transcends nature, this redounds to his greater worth. When we evaluate being a child of God in a Christian context, it unveils an even greater and deeper reality. As a Christian man, I have come to know and believe that I am a son of God. It is what I have placed my hope in, and it has significantly impacted the way I approach and live life. Having such an identity means denying my selfish desires for the betterment of those around me. Why do this? And why use being a “son” as my justification? Because being a child of God involves viewing those around me as family, as fellow children of great worth and potential sharing in the wonders of creation. It necessitates love and compassion in all situations, even when I don’t feel like it. It means keeping as my first love the Father who made me and preserves me so I can glorify Him. It means desiring what my Father in heaven desires. What is my reward? In a traditional context, a son would receive the inheritance of his father when he reaches maturity. For me, my inheritance is Heaven, ultimate union with God and eternal blessedness. This inheritance transcends any worldly inheritance, as it offers eternal fulfillment and joy in its realized purpose. And yet, from an objective standpoint, I ask:

What does it mean to be a son of God? To answer this question, we must first look at the Son of God—Jesus Christ. According to the Bible, Jesus Christ is the only begotten Son of God (John 3:16). This points to an exclusive identity. A distinction, therefore, needs to be made; though Christ is the only Son of God by nature, we too can become sons of God through adoption. St. Paul explains in his letter to the Galatians how we are adopted as children:

But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian, for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. —GALATIANS 3:25-26 The key element to our adoption is faith, which has its ultimate end of attaining oneness with God. The Greek word for “faith” is pistis, meaning “to be persuaded, to come to trust.” For the believer, it is the divine persuasion of the reality of God through His revelation in creation, leading to an active trust in relationship with Him. The identity of sonship is marked by this relationship, and, in the case of the Christian, it is the relation to God the Father. We see the perfect example of this relationship with the Father in the life of His Son, Jesus. Jesus breathes and speaks the life of the Father from the very first of His words uttered in the gospels to the very last. We first see the young child Jesus in the Gospel of Luke stray away from His parents in the journey to Jerusalem. This causes them to worry; after several days of looking for their child, they discover Him in the temple:

And His mother said to Him, “Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been searching for you in great distress.”

And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” —LUKE 2:48-49 In this scene, Jesus makes it clear to His earthly parents who His identity is rooted in: His heavenly parent, the Father. Jesus prioritizes His relationship with the Father before anyone else. It is this relationship that we are called to prioritize: our relationship with heaven before anything on earth. Jesus, likewise, reflects this sentiment at the very end of His life in the gospels with His last words on the cross:

Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last. —LUKE 23:46 Even in His last moments of anguish, our Lord displays His Sonship. He paints a model of what we are all called to embody. Our ultimate fulfillment is realized in our relationship with the Father, and Christ’s role in His earthly mission was oriented around his Father, from the beginning to the end. In a western culture where the family unit has been deteriorating, why is it necessary to do the will of our parents? For one, we are forever in debt to them for helping bring us into this world and rearing us up to be the people we are today. On a deeper level, concerning God, He created and loved us into existence, and so our goal should be to love Him back throughout all eternity. True love must take place in action, and this occurs by doing the divine will. When we think of Jesus, we picture someone who is full of compassion and love for those around Him, especially those in need. We imagine Him to be innocent and pure-hearted, someone who is meek and gentle in His dealings with others. We also take into account His leadership, being the founder of a movement that would eventually become the most widespread religion the world has ever witnessed. In the midst of all these attributes, His identity is deeply rooted in His relation to the Father, so much so that He eventually dies for it, crucified for claiming to be the divine Son of God. He now invites us to share in that glory of being children of God, which requires us to walk in imitation of Him, just as a child walks in the footsteps of his father. We are called to serve God and those around us through love and humility. In doing so, we are transformed into Christ, deified, and made partakers of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). For those who have not embarked on the journey of salvation, an open invitation awaits. We spend all our lives seeking to elevate our level of existence to something higher. With God as the highest standard of perfection, why should we settle for anything else? Look to the Father; He has revealed Himself in His Son, Jesus Christ.

UNIQUENESS IN COMMUNITY Brandon Fong In many ways, senior year of high school is a defining moment. It’s where you begin to decide what you want to do with your life. Do you want to go to college? If so, what do you want to study? Instead, you might want to join the military or go straight into the workforce. This is the period where high school friends may start to go their separate ways and choose their own path. Even though life’s highway might change drastically further down the road, this is where our plans are first laid.

Church]—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.” (1 Corinthians 12:13). Verse 27 puts the same concept in different words:

Just last year, I was going through that period. Before, my whole class would have a similar weekly schedule, but now everything would be different. We started to pursue our own interests, refine our various talents, and step into what makes us unique.

—1 CORINTHIANS 12:27 NIV

Nowadays, it seems like everyone just wants to stand out. To accomplish this, we label our bios with identifying facts about ourselves. We enumerate our achievements, experiences, and talents in the hope that we will be accepted by colleges and then by companies. Then, we look for people with the same talents, achievements, and interests to be our friends. Ever had a conversation go like this: “What’s your major?” “Oh, I’m studying claustrophobic biochemical mathematical engineering.” “Oh really? I have a friend who’s studying claus…” So many of us, consciously or not, base our communities on shared interests and talents. Despite good intentions, this way of grouping ourselves will almost always leave someone out. I believe this to be the root of the divide between the rich and poor, the old and the young, “us” and “them”—so many people refuse to even attempt to understand people who are different from them. However, Christ’s community is truly for everyone. God does not only call the educated, the rich, the claustrophobic biochemical mathematical engineering majors, but he calls everyone. Matthew 28:19, the Great Commission, says, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Furthermore, Christ invites all of us into His Church community to be saved. “For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body [the

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.

In other words, the tenets of Christianity require a massive change in perspective—how are you going to live your life now that you have one in heaven? Let me be clear that “the Church of Christ” is the global and ideal Church, not necessarily the building down the street. Individual churches often fail to minister to and welcome all, despite God calling us to do so. Even in the Church community, we often treat one another poorly, distancing ourselves from those we view as different. But Christ is not sinful and judgmental like we are—in John 12:32, Jesus said, “When I am lifted up from the earth, [I] will draw all people to myself.” Take heart in the fact that by becoming a Christian, you are joining a community like no other —one that accepts all regardless of the differences that we have. The global Church is diverse beyond imagination—even just going to different churches in America can cause serious culture shock. And while some individual churches might fail their mission, it still exists— and any church that truly knows God will do their best to fulfill it. On a more personal level, becoming a Christian is a way to stand out in and of itself. There are many who will not and do not want to become Christians, and some that may scorn you for your faith. Romans 12:2 tells the Christian, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” To be clear, the “renewal of your mind” is not just symbolic of a change in beliefs, it is a renewal that will change your very worldview. For example, only through Christ can we shake our nature as judgmental beings. In other words, the tenets of Christianity require a massive change in perspective—how are you going to live your life now that you have one in heaven? Still, our individual talents and interests here on Earth have a purpose in Christ's kingdom. 1 Peter 4:10-11 (NIV) says, “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received [from God] to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.” The Bible not only tells us that our talents are God-given, but also that they are to be used in His service, rather than to maximize our personal gain. While a Christian application of human talents might seem simple, it is far from it. From this perspective, each individual must ponder and pray in order to discover how they might practically use their talents to God’s glory. At the risk of sounding boastful, I wanted to challenge myself to write this kind of article because I believe it is one of the ways I can serve God with my gift. But what might that look like exactly? Christians are to “serve others” with their gifts—not just God, but other people. As can be seen from the

Great Commission (the main mission of the church), God calls Christians to use their gifts to help make new disciples. In that sense, the Church is inherently outward-facing; it must engage with the world in order to fulfill its mission. In general, there are two ways that the Church, like any organization, interacts with an individual: what the Church brings to that person, and what the person brings to the Church. In an ideal relationship—one which Christ desires—the Church would bring Her love and saving grace to the individual, while the individual would respond with an open and understanding heart, eventually bringing their own talents to help do the same for others. To be clear, this is not an exchange but a relationship—the individual does not give back out of duty or requirement, but simply because they want to. It is out of thankfulness for what God has given us—salvation from sin, eternity for later, and His presence in the here and now—that we eagerly contribute our gifts. Unfortunately, in this world there are so many ways for this relationship to sour. I recognize that many people have been hurt by churches on Earth that have not reflected Jesus’s love for us. I hope that all can come to realize that Jesus is truly loving, and that He has a plan for all of us and our talents. If there’s one thing to take away from this article, it is that all the practical aspects of Christianity I’ve talked about—the community, using God’s gifts for His glory, reaching out to others, the churches in this world—is all of secondary importance. The first and best thing you can do when you become a Christian is to read the Bible and ponder your relationship with God. Everything else can and will come later— everything practical about Christianity stems from the Christian’s heart, the heart that wants to be with Him. With God, we are never separate from the true Church because we are never separate from Him. And who cares about standing out (or not standing out) in this world when we have eternity? Matthew 24:35 says, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.” So, the next time you log onto Instagram to edit your bio, take a moment to really think about how you identify yourself. Does it leave you unfulfilled, even a little bit? Only Christ can truly satisfy.

Hidden in You

Jade Castillo Hermosillo Something is always missing, isn’t it? After a long day of work, school, errands, or social activities, I still manage to find reasons to be unsatisfied. As soon as my mind is not preoccupied with work or socializing, the doubts and insecurities flood in. “If only I had” or “Maybe if I was more” are how many of my negative thoughts start. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why are we only at “peace” when we are distracted? I love it when I find a metaphor that is able to describe how I feel when I cannot come up with the words myself. Lately, I have been contemplating the relationship between loneliness and solitude and how doubts can get in the way of knowing oneself and God. The most accurate metaphor would be comparing one’s overwhelming thoughts to how light pollution in cities makes stars, for the most part, hidden. It’s hard living in a city. You’ll be on a walk at night, and while the city lights look beautiful as you look up at them from afar, you know that the night sky, even higher above, has more beauty than city lights could ever offer. A couple of parallels can be made here.

Sometimes, we can be so tangled up in earthly things that we are blinded, and God becomes lost somewhere in the back of our minds. I have been guilty of this. The feeling that has been clouding my life is loneliness. When and where did the untraceable thoughts of loneliness start? For the past few months, I have been meditating on a verse from Colossians 3:1-4 which says:

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Many of us have a family to talk to, friends to depend on, and extracurricular activities to keep us busy, but somehow, we always manage to feel that “something is missing.” Thus, loneliness is born. I think it’s one of the worst feelings because once you conclude that you are lonely, it infects every one of your thoughts. Then, you feel ungrateful because you have everything you think you need. I ask again, where are You, God? Aren’t You all I need? Colossians 3:1-4 makes me think I have been looking for Him in the wrong places. I have stopped using “loneliness” and “solitude” interchangeably since coming across this verse. Most dictionaries say loneliness occurs when you are around people yet still feel lonely. Meanwhile, solitude is the ability to enjoy your own presence and take time to reflect without being around others. Solitude, I believe, is where I am trying to be with God. After all, we must “set [our] minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” I struggled with this verse at first because I was frustrated that we are being asked to set our minds on things that are “above” when there seems to be so much happening where we are now, on Earth. Does it mean to ignore our everyday problems and worries? Could it be that easy? I don’t think so. My most recent understanding is that the verse is an everyday reminder that we are above earthly problems and have the

privilege of knowing that this, our time on Earth, will not be our only life. I think my recent loneliness has not stemmed from a lack of social relationships and interactions but from the distance I have felt between God and me. I have realized that the feeling of loneliness appears whenever I am not preoccupied with work or friends. Instead of feeling satisfied after seeing friends or completing an assignment, I am always scurrying to find something else to do or someone to call. I am afraid of having time on my hands. Why can’t I be satisfied with myself? Why have I not been able to achieve solitude? During these lulls in time, I worry about the future and regret small things in the past. I worry that every day will be the same, and I find any trivial things in the past to regret. Will I still be feeling this way tomorrow? Have I been too distant or too clingy with my friends these past months? Did I say something wrong? Will I ever meet someone? These existential questions sprout from my unsureness and struggle with letting God in to take some of my worries away. Referring back to the verse, the entire chapter of Colossians 3 serves as an important reminder of how close we are to God already, easing doubts. In a metaphorical sense, Colossians 3:1-4 suggests that we are already “above” with God; we need to believe it and practice it. In

Colossians 3:3, Paul wrote, “For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” My interpretation is that once we have accepted Him, in a sense, our earthly bodies, possessions, regrets, and worries “die,” and we are united with Him. I like the wording “hidden” in Him, in particular, because it is very reassuring, as if one can imagine being in His embrace whenever you need it. This is the kind of solitude I aspire to feel when I am not around people. To feel safe and loved. I also understand that these things are easier said than done. Not everyone can push aside overwhelming thoughts and feelings. I don’t think they should. I have the tendency to minimize all of my problems and discomforts. I compare my problems to things that are worse and say, “Well, at least,” this or that. Sometimes, it helps put issues into perspective, but I often end up feeling worse and blaming myself. What I want to say is that we are not alone. I feel so much better after I tell someone I trust what has been on my mind. However, there is always God for the problems or thoughts we hesitate to tell a friend or another person out of fear. I wish I could say that I talk to Him every day, or even every other day, but I haven’t in a while. I forget He’s not only there for the “serious” problems. He is here every day, His hand on my shoulder, waiting for me to share the good and the bad, the big and the small, and to share the weight of whatever has been tugging at my heart and mind.

Define: Sexual Beings Is your worth in your loins? In your servitude to lust? You pin your all, tether your being to insatiable expressions of desire. Maybe Foucault was right: acts are not desires are not categories are not identities. Our girls suffer. They are told to find value in the curvature of their waists in the form of femininity. Sculpt yourself, draw their gaze. Be feminine. Be sexual. Must it be so, that to be feminine is to be sexual?

What, then, if your identity could be found in someone else? Not in defiled flesh nor inexhaustible cravings, but He in whose image you are made. Who formed you. Who saved you. Who loves you. Who sees you for more than the depravity to which you are enslaved. He made sexual beings, but first and foremost, He made children.

THE VISIBLE & INVISIBLE CHURCH Carson Fisher Anglicans, Baptists, Catholics… one can simply trace the rest of the alphabet through the denominations of Christianity. With numerous differences in tradition and theology between denominations, there is undeniable division in the Church. Why is the Church so divided, and how does this affect the identity of the Church?

A HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH “I believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.” This is a statement from the Nicene Creed, a statement of belief affirmed by Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Oriental Orthodox and Protestant denominations (note that in this creed, the catholic Church denotes the universal Church, which is distinct from the Roman Catholic denomination). Apart from Scripture itself, this creed outlines the fundamental doctrines of the Christian faith as presently and historically affirmed by the Church. This creed represents the essentials to the Christian faith. We are worshippers of one God who is three in one: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Before addressing the disagreements within the Church, it is important to note the global Church is united in the essentials of the Christian faith. To study differences in the Church, one must define “church.” Clement of Alexandria and Saint Augustine both taught a distinction within the definition of “church”: the visible and the invisible. Saint Augustine defined the visible Church as the Church that appears to the world; church buildings, clergy, ceremonies, and denominations are all aspects of the visible Church. The visible Church consists of the institutions and ordinances “established by humans in the name of God.” [1] When one sees a baptism or drives by a local church building, they are observing the visible Church. However, one can attend the visible Church and not truly hold any faith in Christ. Scripture affirms that not everyone in the visible Church is necessarily a follower of Christ Jesus. There can be weeds that grow alongside the flowers of Christ’s garden: people who claim Christianity but are not actually believers in Christ. [2] Those that have genuine belief in Jesus Christ constitute the invisible Church. The invisible Church consists of redeemed believers in Christ. They have received the truth that Jesus Christ is the Son of God into their hearts, they faithfully pursue the Lord, and they both know God and are known by God (Galatians 4:9). This is what it means to dwell, or abide, “in” Christ. Even if church buildings are burned down and congregations dissolve, the invisible Church remains. There are noticeable denominational differences and fractures in the visible Church, but this does not mean there are fractures in the invisible Church. Transcendent to theological disagreements, there are no denominations in the invisible Church, which offers tremendous unity for Christians as a whole. As theologian R.C. Sproul notes, “The union of believers is grounded in the mystical union of Christ and His Church.” [3] God works in the lives

of His believers. He places His Holy Spirit in their hearts to transform their thoughts, actions, and convictions. Moreover, believers pursue and glorify God with their whole lives (Matthew 22:36-40). Therefore, it is said that God dwells within believers and believers dwell in Him—a profound connection to the living Lord. Sproul expounds on this connection: “If I am in Christ and you are in Christ, and if He is in us, then we experience a profound unity in Christ.” [4] All believers are united to each other because all believers are united to God. Scripture even refers to believers in Christ as brothers and sisters because of this unity. Regardless of identity in the visible Church, believers love, worship, and know the same God. As Ephesians 4:5 identifies, there is “one Lord, one faith, [and] one baptism” for the one catholic Church.

COMMON DENOM-INATOR We have established the unity of the invisible Church, but the question of disunity in the visible Church remains: why is the visible Church so fractured? Throughout Scripture there are consistent calls for unity. 1 Corinthians 1:10: “I appeal to you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment.” This command is not one to create a spiritual unity, which man cannot do, but it is one to maintain the unity already bestowed upon the Church with God and with fellow believers. Pastor John Piper describes the unity in the Church “not as… the level of institutional oneness or collaboration.” [5] Whether believers are in the same denomination or institution as another believer does not disrupt the unity they already have in Christ. Rather, Piper states that “our unity is when [others] see on the ground attitudes and acts of love among believers.” [6] Scripture states that believers in Christ are known based on their love for one another, not their unity in theology or denomination. Disagreements between well-intentioned and devout believers can righteously exist, but these disagreements should not be judged by their abuses. Just as the abuses of any religion do not invalidate the religion itself, any historic abuses or persecution by the visible Church do not refute Christianity but reveal the sinful nature of humans. Persecution between denominations or against different religions is not revealing of “love for one another,” so it also does not reveal true disciples of Christ. The actions of believers should always be reflecting the holiness, righteousness, justness, humility, and love of the God they serve. John 13:34–35: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” While denominations, as institutions on this earth, can cause appearances of division, the true unity of the Church is found in their submission to the headship of the Lord Jesus Christ, their obedience to Scripture, and their affirmation of each other’s salvation in Christ, all of which is evidenced by the love that exists among true believers. Simply, believers in Christ recognize Christ as Lord, follow Christ’s teachings, and recognize fellow believers in Christ as equals. When considering the Church, do not focus on any disunities, but focus on the One who makes the Church whole, the Lord God. The identity of the Church is grounded in God Himself. Whether one is Anglican, Baptist, or Catholic, they are unified in a heavenly purpose, a belief in the same Lord Jesus, and a love for one another which flows from their love of God. No theological difference can undermine this beautiful unity that God had gifted to His Church. [1] Crowhurst, Paul. “Issue 19: The Invisible Church,” Sit Walk Speak, Aug. 27, 2022. [2] Sproul, R.C. “One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church,” Ligonier Ministries, May 11, 2022. [3] Ibid. [4] Ibid. [5] Piper, John. “Are Divisions in the Church Necessary?,” desiringGod, Feb. 18, 2022. [6] Ibid.

FAITH IN FRATERNITY Luke Baber

My entire life I’ve been a brother. At home, I grew up with a brother. At school, I’m in a fraternity full of people I consider brothers. In my daily life, I encounter many brothers and sisters in Christ. As a result of all these experiences, I feel as though being a “brother” is a critical part of my identity. Brotherhood to me is not confined strictly to the bloodrelated male sibling sense, but to a much broader community-minded sense of brotherhood. On October 29th, 2002, I officially took my older sibling’s position as the favorite child. Although I’m sure he resented me at the time (and still does somewhat to this day), I know that deep down he was happy to have someone to go through life with. In that sense, I was born with a built-in best friend. I know that not everyone reading this article may have had the experience of having a brother within your family, but I am here to attest that it is both amazing and aggravating. My brother Grant and I would fight over just about everything growing up. Some of my earliest memories involve us wrestling together on a mattress in our living room. When we got older, the fighting slowed, but we still argued about everything under the sun. There were moments where we got along famously and others where we didn’t speak to each other for weeks on end. Though we may not have liked each other all the time, there grew a deep love and camaraderie that we both still feel toward one another as a result of going through life together. Living together, being of the same blood, and having similar circumstances all contribute to our bond. I know I can count on him and he on me. My brother knows me deeply. He knows my struggles, pain, successes, mannerisms, humor, etc. This kind of brotherhood was innate to us. We were born with it and have grown into a greater appreciation for one another. Brotherhood from this perspective is based on deep knowledge and unconditional appreciation that forms as a result of shared genes, parents, and experiences. One of the best things about having a familial brother is that he will always be my brother whether he wants to be or not. Nothing can take away that bond in the same way that a friendship could be broken. True brotherhood, in this sense especially, can’t be stripped away. No matter what Grant does, he will always be my brother.

Though we may not have liked each other all the time, there grew a deep love and camaraderie that we both still feel toward one another as a result of going through life together

Though I didn’t plan on joining a fraternity, I joined Pike after some serious thought and time in prayer. Through my involvement in Greek life, I’ve learned that brotherhood is not confined to bloodlines, but rather that it can be fostered through shared actions and a common goal with a focus on supporting one another through the process. Brotherhood in this sense is a state of friendship and mutual support. However, the idea of brotherhood continues beyond the required payment of dues and occasional house parties.

“And he answered them, ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ And looking about at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother.’” —Mark 3:33-35

As Christians, we all have the call to be brothers (and sisters) in Christ. Multiple times throughout the New Testament, we see Christians calling each other “brothers and sisters”; these relationships are not built on a shared bloodline or a shared organization but on a shared belief in Christ who died for the sins of the world. Though not everyone reading this article may be privy to having a “brother” in their life, we are called by Jesus to “love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another” (John 13:34). Through this love brought about from the example of Christ and the shared gift of His sacrifice, we have become brothers and sisters toward a common goal of furthering the kingdom of God on earth. In fact, Jesus even asks the question in Mark 3:33-35 (NIV): “Who are…my brothers?” to which He answered, “Whoever does God’s will is my brother.” The doing of God’s will is done through a spirit of love that we share with all that we encounter, pointing through our actions to the source of the love that we share. Practically, this looks like evangelizing, encouraging others, praising God, and acting in a manner that fits within God’s will. This love that we must share is to be given unconditionally, in the same way that one would love a brother. One of the most beautiful aspects of this kind of brotherhood is that Christian brotherhood is built on a firm foundation. Pike may one day cease to exist and fade into the halls of history, and one day my beloved brother will breathe his last. But the kingdom of God will reign for all eternity, and that strong brotherhood will never fade. As Christians, we have experienced God’s love for us in our lives and have responded to that love through our belief, and in that belief, we are working daily for His will and kingdom to be brought about on earth through our encounters with others. Hopefully, this idea of brotherhood strengthens your faith and helps to unite and encourage our Christian community, fostering a communal sense of Holy Spirit-empowered koinonia for our reconciled family, which is the Church. I implore you to look back on your life and your relationships to see the brothers and sisters in your own lives. Call them. Tell them you love them. Spend time with them. In Hebrews, we are told to “keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters” (Hebrews 13:1 NIV). Hopefully through this article, I have shared some of the brotherly love that has inspired me throughout my life. God bless you, bro!

Loved Beyond Measure

Destiny Dennis

There is a distinct picture of God that exists in society today. He is often depicted as an old guy sitting on a throne in heaven, governing the people of Earth with a set of arbitrary rules that must be adhered to. This description, however, seems somewhat at odds with the image of God described in the Bible. Rather than an uninvolved deity, He is described as an active and compassionate Father. Rather than distant and cold, He is described as someone who has gone to lengths and depths to draw close to those He loves, those whom He made in His own image. Through the teachings in His Word, the Bible, we learn that what He seeks is not a people who mindlessly obey a set of rules—after all, He could have created puppets with no free will to do that. Instead, He desires our hearts. He wants a true and genuine relationship with the people He so intently created.

If God truly wants to have a genuine relationship with us, what’s up with all the rules? Those familiar with the concept of sin know that it involves breaking a set of divine laws: do not lie, do not envy, refrain from lust and sexual immorality, etc. But if we were created with free will, shouldn’t we have the freedom to choose how we live our lives? This question sounds quite reasonable. That is, until we examine human behavior. Humans tend to have an endless hunger to satisfy personal needs and desires. This seems harmless, and even admirable at times—after all, “I gotta put me first”—but this self-centered approach to life often causes us to overlook the effect that our behavior has on other people. For example, lying may be beneficial to our self-preservation, but it ultimately strips the other party of their right to know the truth. Casual sex may satisfy our desire for physical intimacy, but it disregards the post-hookup physical and emotional well-being of both the self and the other person. Though these actions may appear justifiable on a personal level, they ultimately lack compassion for the person on the receiving end.

What does our ill-treatement of others have to do with God? We say that the most painful moment for a parent is when something terrible happens to their child. Knowing this, we can only imagine God’s heartbreak when we cause harm to one another. It’s easy to say, “I’m not THAT bad,” but the truth is that we all at some point succumb to our desires to protect the self, even if it means hurting others. Though God’s commandments may appear strict and even harsh at times, it doesn’t take much reasoning to see that they were purposely crafted to protect us.

While sin is often summed up as disobedience to God’s law, there is a deeper aspect that is less frequently spoken about. At its core, sin represents our rejection of God. To understand this truth, we have to go back to the origins of mankind when sin entered the world. Our first ancestors did not have many rules to follow, just one: “You may freely eat the fruit of every tree in the garden—except the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If you eat its fruit, you are sure to die” (Genesis 2:16-17 NLT). God set the first man and woman, Adam and Eve, in a garden filled with everything they could ever need: food, comfort, and overflowing goodness. In the face of abundance, however, they chose to do the one thing that God forbade: they ate the fruit. Why? To be their own boss. Deceived by a serpent, they believed that eating the fruit would give them the ability to become like God. This scene can be the topic of much ridicule. We tell ourselves that Adam and Eve were naive and selfish. Surely if we had to choose between obeying God’s simple rule and inhabiting paradise or risking it all for the chance to become our own gods, we would choose the former.

For this is how God loved the world: He gave his An illustration of their rationale can actually be one and only Son, so that found on a college campus. At a school as competitive and career-oriented as Penn, many students express loneliness despite being everyone who believes surrounded by an abundance of people. When asked why, the response often falls along the in him will not perish lines of “everyone’s just so transactional.” As students, we often feel pressured to enter into but have eternal life. relationships, not because of genuine interest, but because we are aware of the professional —John 3:16 value that knowing a person may have on our But if the answer is so obvious; why did Adam and Eve still choose to partake of the fruit? Why did they choose to disobey God?

futures. We don’t desire an authentic connection, but rather we see the benefits that may accompany a relationship with them on LinkedIn. In a similar manner, by consuming the fruit, Adam and Eve communicated to God that what they wanted was not Him, but His creation. They wanted the beauty of what He had made, but rejected His authority to govern it. They craved a godless world, and what they received was just that. Just as darkness enters in as light is removed, evil entered the world when people departed from God’s will. Our ancestors were removed from the garden and given what they had so desperately desired: the freedom to rule themselves. They entered a world of liberty, one in which their first son would kill their second and begin a perpetual era of violence. They entered a world of chaos and confusion, where death would be the end. Being kicked out of the garden was much more than being removed from a geographic location; it represented a removal from the presence of God. It represented a completion of what they had desired.

temptations, and ultimately die to atone for our sins. After all, the consequence of sin is death.

What does Jesus' death have to do with us? In His death, Jesus purposefully and painfully took the sins of all creation—past, present, and future—upon Himself and gave us the opportunity to be made right in God’s sight. He made it so that through His name, we could ask for the forgiveness of our sins and be made holy once more. In His resurrection, He proved that He is the Son of God and made the path back into His presence accessible to humans again for the first time since Adam and Eve had sinned. As long as we believe in our hearts and confess with our mouths that He came to this earth and died to take our place as sinners, we are able to repent and be made right before God. Repentance does not mean we become perfect and infallible beings—after all, we still live in a world plagued by sin and temptation. What it signifies, however, is our acknowledgment that we are all sinners—none better than the other. We acknowledge that we have all rejected and continue to reject God’s heart. Aware of our sin, we reflect on ourselves daily, repent frequently, and work consistently to love both God and our neighbors. It’s not always smooth and straightforward, but it’s where we find ultimate fulfillment because we can be certain that we are forgiven, holy, and in a relationship with our heavenly Father.

There is only one God, and Christ Jesus is the only one who can bring Do we have to obey these laws to be in a us to God. Jesus was truly relationship with God? This could have been the end of a perfectly human, and he gave Everyone who hears the gospel about Jesus has rational story. People sinned, God punished “ a choice: to accept or reject a relationship with them, the end. But God, being the loving parent that He is, decided to pursue His people even himself to rescue all of Him. The Bible is an intimidatingly large book and there are many things to wrap one’s head further. Through the commandments, He around. The process of drawing closer to God created a path through which we could enter us. may look daunting and time-consuming. It's into His presence once more—a way back into easier to not think about it at all or say, the garden. These laws were designed to protect —‭‭1 Timothy‬‭2‬:‭5‬‭CEV‬ much “I’ll try to live like a good person, but I don’t and preserve His people from both each other and themselves. At the center was the command to love God and love others. Unfortunately, the strength of sin made the commandments unlivable. Many failed to follow the law and those who did adhere to its most visible commands became prideful at heart. The latter used their adherence to the law as a means of boasting and controlling others. Rather than loving their neighbors through the law, they

manipulated the commands of God to oppress the weak. Once more, God saw that the path His people were on was headed for destruction. Rather than condemning us to our deserved end, He stepped in once more and performed the ultimate act of mercy. In an act of passion for His people, He sent His only Son to dwell among us, experience our struggles and

want all of THAT.” The reality, however, is that ambivalence is equivalent to rejection. Pursuing a relationship with God is all or nothing; He gave His all for us, and in turn, we do the same for Him: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:37). Making a choice is not an easy step, but if there truly is a God, then it’s a choice worth considering.

A DIALOGUE Madeeha Mirza I let out a long, content sigh. The steady rumble of the Amtrak engine, the reclining seat—my homework doesn’t stand a chance. The glowing, hypnotic screen saver leads my eyes slowly across my laptop…top right…center…top left…they almost close, but not before my ears pick up the intriguing conversation of the passengers across the table. “Well, to each his own truth. Not my place to judge.” I blink and lift my head slightly; I’m pretty sure I know that boy across from me. Didn’t we take the same philosophy class last semester? Anthony, I think, is avidly debating a man dressed neck-to-toe in a long black garment. A second glance, and my eyes catch the white square of a clerical collar. Between his fingers, a rosary of smooth, wooden beads rattles gently with the train tracks. “This is not right,” the priest was saying. “How can there be different true religions? The truth can only be one. On the same issue and under the same aspects, 'yes' and 'no' cannot both be true! Various religions differ so much; on certain issues, one religion confirms what another denies.” “Yes,” says Anthony. “But, the truth also depends on the way in which one thinks about a certain thing. Everyone has a subjective truth. Many people find different religions to be uniquely real to them. How can we define one biased metric as ‘true’ and undermine all other equally valid belief systems?” The priest thinks for a moment before responding. “Anthony, is it true or not that we sit here and we are talking?” “It depends. Someone who doesn’t understand English might say that we are not talking, but only emitting nonsensical sounds.” At this, I chuckle quietly, and Anthony, still engrossed in his dialogue, gives me a nod of greeting. I take this as a green light to shift from discreet eavesdropping to active listening, my eyes darting from priest to student and back. “Very true!” exclaimed the priest. “They may say we're emitting mere nonsense. But nonetheless… will the fact, the true reality, that we are currently talking, cease to be true?”

Realizing where the priest is heading, Anthony pauses, mulling this over with a complete poker face. He replies slowly and deliberately, as if already building his next rebuttal. “If we hold…that some truths…must be universally objective…and certain parties claim opposing stances on these truths…then yes. Yes, I suppose so. It is possible for one or many parties to affirm a false belief, and this wouldn’t change the absolute truth.” “You see, then, that the truth does not depend absolutely on what one wants to affirm or deny,” the priest explains. “So there are absolute realities where there cannot be one truth for one person and another truth for another. We need to distinguish well between what is certain, what is likely, what is doubtful, what is only possible. The fact that we are talking, for example, that we are sitting here and having a conversation, belongs to the realm of unquestionable facts. The existence of an omnipotent and preeminent Being also belongs to this black-and-white realm; it is either evident or fallacious.” Anthony’s brow furrows and he leans forward intently. “Alright,” he concedes, hands extended. “I’ll give you that. IF God exists, reason does mandate that every religion can’t be simultaneously true because of their contradictions. One of them would have to have a true definition of who God is. But let’s back up further. The very assumption that God exists is a crutch, Max. This is an irrational belief that sustains the weak. ‘God’ dies with all the feeble reasons that attempt to justify his existence.” This time, Father Max wastes no time in responding, “I would say the attempts to prove the absence of God are far less rational.”

Anthony frowns slightly. “No...” Anthony raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly. The priest continues. “And even if everyone confirmed and swore that we were not sitting here and were not talking, would that maybe change the reality of the fact? They could affirm that which is not true, but the truth would remain intact?”

“Have you heard of ‘fine-tuning’ in the philosophy of physics?” Anthony shakes his head.

“Physicists have discovered certain numbers, constants, that are necessary for our universe to exist and support life. Fine-tuning refers to the fact that these universal constants seem to take non-arbitrary values that very precisely permit life to exist. “Take for instance the electromagnetic force constant, which, if it were any stronger or weaker, would prevent stable chemical bonds. Or the gravitational force constant, which wouldn’t allow planets and stars to form if it were too weak. Or the cosmological constant that controls the universe’s expansion speed… it has to be just faintly positive to perfectly balance the attraction of gravity and the repulsive force of space. If it changes by something like 1 part in 10120, the universe would collapse or fly apart; that’s how vanishingly thin the margin of error is. [1] The odds of all these constants co-occurring to permit life as we know it is unfathomably miniscule. Even Stephen Hawking said, ‘The remarkable fact is that the values of these numbers seem to have been very finely adjusted to make possible the development of life.’” Anthony’s demeanor begins to shift from skepticism to intrigue. Judging by his intent stare and the crease forming in the middle of his forehead, he hasn’t heard of this argument before. “So…you were talking about rational arguments for or against God’s existence,” Father Max continues, putting up three fingers. “The finetuning of the universe is due to either: One, physical necessity. Two, chance. Or three, design. Which would you say is the most plausible?”

speaking about in nature. The numbers one calculates from the facts seem to me so overwhelming as to put this conclusion almost beyond question.’ He used to be a staunch atheist, and, much like you, said religion was a form of escapism. He was working on theories of how carbon could have first formed and become so abundant… and by the end of his life, he admitted that there had to be a coherent plan, a Designer, though he had no idea who it was.” I watch Anthony’s fingers tapping his knee as he mulls these words over. He doesn’t seem upset or defeated, just taken aback that there might be more substance to the God-debate than he expected. He looks the priest up and down, reappraising his opponent, his gaze lingering on the rosary’s metal crucifix in the palm of Father’s hand. Then, we lock eyes. My brain is still reeling from the whole conversation. I have simple, sentimental reasons for my belief in God. I didn’t know that life spontaneously occurring by chance was dependent on so many factors, and was so statistically unlikely. I notice a shadow of doubt and hesitation on Anthony’s face. His raised eyebrows seem to be asking me, Well, what do you think? Before I know it, the words start tumbling out of my mouth. “Don’twaittilltheendofyourlife!” “What?” Anthony and the priest echo in unison.

“I mean… as far as I’m aware, there are no laws of nature imposing these exact constants out of physical necessity… like it is technically possible for gravity to be stronger, for a non-life-permitting universe to exist.” “Agreed. So that leaves…?” “Chance or design,” Anthony answers. Father Max nods. “I believe it was physicist Lee Smolin who calculated that the odds of the primary life-compatible numbers co-occurring by chance is 1 in 10229. On top of that, we know that small patches of order are far more likely than large patches of order. So that means the likeliest occurrence of those life-compatible numbers would be in a universe the size of one living individual, rather than the massive universe we know. Mind you, this isn’t even calculating the odds of the beauty and complexity of life forms as we see today—this is just about pure functionality.”

Heart thumping loudly, I close my laptop. Looking back up at Anthony, I take a deep breath, and repeat, “Don’t wait till the end of your life… to figure out who the Designer is. Because God’s existence is not not just a matter of curiosity; He made everything—everyone—with a purpose. If God is the answer to the intentional designing of the universe, then your identity is incomplete without knowing who He meant you to be. Remember Pascal’s wager? It’s worth the weight of your entire life’s value, to confirm that what you believe–either that God exists or that He is a human fabrication–is in fact, the truth. We don’t have all the time in the world to figure that out. So… don’t wait.” Father Max meets my eyes with a warm, confident smile, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “I’m John, by the way,” I say, reaching over to shake Anthony’s hand.

Anthony and I both stare at the priest in silence. I’m still trying to process what he said, and I can tell Anthony is as well. Father Max takes a deep breath and passes the beads of his rosary through his fingers. A look of peace comes over his face, and for a few moments he seems lost in thought. Then he meets our gazes again.

“I’ll think about what you said, John,” Anthony tells me. “Let’s meet up again on campus.” I nod enthusiastically.

“You know, I saved an awesome quote just for conversations like this…” He pulls out his phone and takes a second to swipe through with his thumb. “Ah, here we go,” he smiles and clears his throat.

“So…” I can guess the question forming in Anthony’s mind before he even says it. He turns to look back at Father Max and asks, “What are your opinions on evolution?”

“Fred Hoyle, astrophysicist and cosmologist from Cambridge:

We all chuckle, and Father Max pulls out his phone again.

‘A commonsense interpretation of the facts suggests that a Superintellect has monkeyed with physics… and that there are no blind forces worth

This is gonna be a fun trip.

1] Carroll, Sean M., “The Cosmological Constant,” Living Reviews in Relativity 4, no. 1 (2000): 1. [2] Goff, Philip. “Did the Universe Design Itself?,” International Journal for Philosophy of Religion 85, no. 1 (2019): 85, 99-122.

Jehuda Kusuma

SMOKE AND SWEAT 24

It was the boiling summer heat of July 2019. There I was, about to give the closing sermon for my church’s youth camp, and the only thing I could smell was sweat. This smell wasn’t regular post-gym or mid-run sweat. It was the ever-present odor of twenty-five high school boys that had been playing basketball all night without showering before the morning session. If hell needed a new odor, Satan would have been taking notes that day. Even after the session was over and we had driven back to Philadelphia, the smell stayed in my mind. While it’s possible to put make-up over a blemish or bleach a stain off a white shirt, the persistence of smell is different. Once the sweat comes, no amount of Axe body spray or Old Spice deodorant can hide the smell. It takes the reset of a proper shower to truly take the smell away. After the whirlwind that was the pandemic, our church returned to summer camp in 2022. Yet again, the smells of youth were abundant as the Lord put the topic of father figures in my heart. As I shared about my own experiences with my dad growing up as well as what the Bible had to say about God as a Father, I found many of my students had similar experiences during their childhood. And much like this smell of sweat, past experiences that bring pain and shame can linger in an individual’s life. Whether it was domestic home violence, sexual abuse, or the death of a loved one, the stench of trauma infiltrates its way to current relationships and affects our view of ourselves when it is never properly dealt with. No amount of self-help books or positive thinking can mask the symptoms of past trauma and soul wounds. The smell of trauma can manifest outwardly through distancing oneself from loved ones, constant feelings of insecurity, or an unexplainable discomfort with people in leadership, all of which are symptoms of a greater problem. For some of us, the stench of trauma and soul wounds have been present for so long that we forget what life was like without the lingering smell. Or worse, we’ve tricked ourselves into thinking that this is how we smell and there’s nothing we can do about it.

Recently, I have been going through well known biblical stories like Samson, Noah’s ark, and Joseph and have noticed overlooked details within each account. As I went through the popular story in Daniel 3 of Daniel’s three companions, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, surviving in a fiery furnace, I saw many things that I hadn’t understood before.

Firstly, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego’s names were examples of how evil the Babylonian empire was. Their Hebrew names were Hananiah, meaning “God has been gracious,” Mishael, meaning “who is what God is,” and Azariah, meaning “God has helped.” Daniel’s friends were given Babylonian names instead by the empire in order to strip the Jewish people of their culture, language, and traditions, like the Babylonians had done with other people groups under their rule. Moreover, the Babylonians’ king, Nebuchadnezzar, was an insecure man that desired for all to respect him the way he thought he deserved. This was evident in the severity of punishment given to anyone who refused to bow to and worship the king’s golden image he had built for himself. If you have been in church culture for an extended period of time, and especially if you are a Sunday school veteran like I am, you may remember how the rest of the story goes. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego get thrown into the fiery furnace after the king finds out about their defiance. Though instead of dying from the fire as you would expect, like the men who threw Daniel’s friends in the furnace, the three Jews are seen walking in the fire, totally unharmed. The king could not believe his eyes. And not only that, but the king could not believe his eyes when he saw a fourth man standing in the fire with them. Eventually, the three men come out of the fire, and notice what it says with a detail that has been overlooked by many readers: “The hair of their heads was not singed, their cloaks were not harmed, and no smell of fire had come upon them” (Daniel 3:27). Thinking about the stench of trauma and soul wounds in everyone’s lives again, the application of this account is straightforward yet Spirit-filled:

you do not have to smell like what you’ve gone through.

You will not find a single person on this planet that has ever existed without some form of trauma or soul wound in their lives. Everyone has trauma, but the stark reality is that not everyone is fully delivered from their trauma. Like summertime high school boy sweat, the only way to be fully delivered from that smell is to experience a true cleansing of the heart and soul that the Lord offers to each of us. Nobody wants to live with the baggage of their trauma. Whether Christian or not, we all desire goodness and truth. Jesus is the answer to our collective groaning for goodness. Moreover, the Christian life is not simply about suffering all the way to heaven; an important part of the good news is the process of being more like Jesus each day. Although we will never achieve perfect holiness in this life, the Holy Spirit empowers us to progress every day toward Jesus’ commandment for disciples to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect (Matthew 5:48). This understanding of perfection is less of a spotless slate and more of a wholeness where we can see God’s presence, not just in the good and joyful parts of life, but especially in the bad and shameful parts of life. From the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, we can see that the Lord does not always deliver us in the way that we might expect. In their response to the king’s question of what god could save them from the furnace, the three say that their God has the ability to save them from the furnace, but even if He chose not to, they still “will not serve [the king’s] gods or worship the golden image that [he had] set up” (Daniel 3:18). While it is good to ask God for specific requests, a prayer that takes greater faith is for God’s will, not yours, to be done in your life. Just like how Jesus did not come as a political leader but as a baby to heal our hearts and not circumstances, it is dangerous to put God in a box that we create. Our situations do not determine God’s character, but rather God’s character is the same no matter the situation. So whether your deliverance from the stench of trauma comes from a single encounter with

God or a continual, deliverance will come.

life-long

process,

To add to this good news, another truth about God’s deliverance is that He is not some passive deity that is silently watching, but He is much more active in our healing processes than we may realize. While scholars argue on the specific identity of a fourth person in the furnace with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, it is undeniable that whoever this fourth person may be serves as a reminder that God is present in our trauma and soul wounds. And not only is He present, Jesus Himself is a mediator that we can, with confidence, draw near to because He is able to sympathize with our weaknesses and trauma (Hebrews 4:15-16). Especially for those of us who carry the wounds of church hurt—who was hurt by the church more than Jesus Himself who was crucified by the very people that He was trying to save? If there are those that have been hurt by others in the church, rest assured that the Lord Himself knows the full extent of that pain. The gentle truth that brings peace to the weary soul is that the Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18). Friends, there is more to life than just ourselves. Finally, God’s deliverance of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego did not just save those three people; it served as a testimony to king Nebuchadnezzar of the God of Israel’s might, causing the sinful unbelieving Gentile to bless God. God desires to deliver each of us from the stench of trauma and soul wounds not just for our sakes but for the sakes of those around us that need a testimony of God’s goodness. Our good does not necessarily equal God’s glory, but rather our good is always a by-product of God’s goodness. Today, we may smell like smoke and sweat, but one day, we will experience the fullness of divine restoration and deliverance. You do not have to carry the smell of what you’ve gone through anymore because of Jesus.

BREAK A B L

Ellie Shuert

There were far too many breakables around. Our house was decorated for Christmas, dressed in ornament wreaths, stuffed Santas, and glass nativity statues. Like always, my sister and I were playing around in the kitchen, slipping and sliding in our socks on the hardwood floors. We ran laps around the kitchen island, relying on centripetal forces we weren’t yet aware of to keep us from sliding off course. It was a catastrophe waiting to happen. Suddenly, one of us fell out of orbit and collided with the freestanding cupboards, sending a ceramic statue of Mary holding Baby Jesus plummeting towards the floor. Instead of shattering, it broke into several large pieces. Still, we cried and cried, afraid of how our mother would react to the broken statue. But funnily enough, her reaction doesn’t stick out in my memory. What does stick out, though, is the image of the mended statue, superglued with edges chipped off, returning to adorn our kitchen year after year. Maybe my mom just couldn’t bear to discard Mary and Jesus. Maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them in broken pieces. Instead, she put them back together, even when evidence of the brokenness would remain visible each year she put the statue on display. This memory has illustrated to me something I think is common amongst all of humanity: we mourn broken things, and we feel a strong compulsion to fix them. Perhaps that broken thing may no longer fulfill its intended function, or maybe the broken thing is an ugly reminder of our mistakes and inadequacies, but we are all convinced that brokenness was never its intended state of being. This tendency becomes more vivid when we picture the brokenness around us. We see broken, traumatized people, including ourselves, who are desperate for healing. We see broken, poisonous relationships that lend themselves to dishonesty, distrust, and isolation. We see broken, oppressive systems that perpetuate hateful stereotypes and keep our brothers and sisters impoverished. With all this brokenness on both an individual and universal level, it’s easy to become overwhelmed and crestfallen by how it multiplies and our limited ability to repair it. And still, we try. Whether it’s something as little as implementing a self-care routine or something as large as advocating for social change in our communities, we are problem-solvers at heart, and it kills us to ignore what we see as broken. And with so much brokenness, this urge is completely insatiable. We never seem to provide enough permanent solutions to the brokenness around us. If brokenness obligates healing, how come healing is so rare while brokenness so ubiquitous? What happened to the conversion? Perhaps the presence of this urge suggests the truth we all know underlyingly—that broken things are not meant to stay broken forever.

Of all the places I’ve searched for some remedy to brokenness, I’ve found that only Jesus Christ has a foolproof plan to make all things new (Revelation 21:5). To start, He heals us from our personal heartbrokenness. Scripture illustrates this relationship by naming us “jars of clay.” Like clay, we are uniquely and beautifully created by a Potter, artful work of God’s hand (Isaiah 64:8). However, like jars of clay, we are also fragile and prone to brokenness. One collision with the world around us can cause us to shatter, just like my mom’s statue. Each of us bears scars of the ways we’ve

been hurt by the world around us, and each of us too carries the weight of having inflicted damage on the other precious breakables around us. But our purpose is not merely aesthetic; a jar of clay is a vessel meant to carry something valuable. Historically, a jar of clay held objects such as jewels or important documents, but as jars of clay we can transport something even more valuable. 2 Corinthians 4:7 says, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” We are purposed to carry the power, love, and life of God in us. Consequently, if we are broken vessels, we can’t fulfill the purpose of carrying anything. Without mending, the love we are trying to carry to the world leaks out through our spider-webbing cracks. In our own brokenness, we are not very effective fixers of the brokenness around us. And yet, Jesus is the solution for our brokenness. He is firstly an answer to our individual pain and suffering, as He “heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3). Jesus is drawn specifically to the broken because they are most in need of mending. He says that “those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick” (Mark 2:17). Jesus’ company consisted of prostitutes, lepers, and thieves. But at the bottom of it, we all have hidden sins and hurts. Just like we are drawn to fix the broken things around us, Jesus is drawn to our own broken hearts, and He desires to heal us. In fact, the solution to brokenness comes through brokenness. Isaiah 53:5 says, “But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” Most of our brokenness isn’t chosen. We despise brokenness. We avoid it at all costs. Jesus chose to experience human brokenness—physically and emotionally—to its fullest extent. And why? To show us that He knows our pain firsthand, and to lay down a sacrifice that allows us to be totally, illogically healed. It’s only through Jesus’ body breaking on our behalf that our relationship with God is reconciled, allowing us to spend eternity with Him in paradise. But God also seeks to heal the world of its brokenness, once and for all. Someday,

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4). Finally, our desire to see broken things restored comes full circle. There is a perfect plan to fix what has been broken and see everything redeemed. There’s something about broken things restored that holds so much more beauty. Consider the Japanese art of kintsugi. It’s a method of repairing broken pottery using lacquer mixed with gold dust. In combination with the gold, the piece becomes more valuable and arguably more beautiful, even in full demonstration of its scars. The piece tells the history of where it’s been and how it’s been restored to even greater glory. There is no shame in the brokenness because its story of healing makes it that much more beautiful. Even Jesus after His resurrection still bore the holes in His hands, a reminder of how He has achieved victory over brokenness and death. Now when I’m confronted by the brokenness of the world, the jagged edges and fractures give way to this reminder: I don’t have to be hopeless, nor do I have to expect my own restoration attempts to be flawless and sufficient, because this is not the ideal state for our world. Everything will be restored. For me, my scars are a story of how Jesus has healed me, and now because of Him I’ve got gold dust flowing through my veins. I am an artifact and map of His provision and healing. You can see where I’ve been, and because of that, I can tell you where I’m going. Do you feel broken beyond repair? Do you see things in this world you wish could be restored? Because chances are, neither of us are content to leave this broken thing alone.

Nicholas Anane

CROWN OF THORNS “He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not.” —JOHN 1:10 KJV To be a Christian is to be conformed to the image of Christ. As Saint Peter says, we are to become partakers of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). It is not merely that you should call yourself a Christian, but rather that you must let yourself be transformed into the likeness of the Son of God. Yet in order to do so, one must alienate the old self through kenosis, or emptying.

Without the emptying out of oneself, it is impossible to have a love for God. Suppose that you were in Gethsemane that fateful night so many years ago. What would you see? You would see what appears to be a humble Jewish rabbi weeping and crying out to God for mercy, so tormented by what was to come that He was drenched in His own blood. He knew He would undergo immense suffering, for what? How much of Israel by then had been converted? Did He not know too that His small band of disciples would be scattered? What about the treachery of Judas? And not only did He face the prospect of an imminent death, but one that was brutal and humiliating too. An incredibly humble monk once spoke to me on the importance of faith in God in difficulties, having suffered immensely himself and driven near the point of despair. He recalled being told that at the very least, he had not sweat blood. If Jesus can endure the cross, and He invites us to it, then by the grace of the Holy Spirit so can we, as with God all things are possible (Matthew 19:26). But it requires obedience and faith, and there is no such thing as faith where there is neither love nor trust in God.

So what does it mean to love God? A very long time ago, a young man came to Jesus and asked what was necessary for him to attain eternal life. Christ told him that it was to obey all the commandments. On hearing them enumerated, he realized that he had kept the commandments, but he figured that surely there was more to it than that, so he asked, “All these things I have kept. What do I still lack?” and Jesus said to him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

Yet, “when the young man heard this he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions“ (Matthew 19:16-22). Perhaps we are tempted to think like the young rich man, that merely avoiding sin is sufficient to say that we are ready for eternal union with Him—but clearly that is not so. If you dare to think like this, you will be told to sacrifice everything, even the good things, not because they are bad, but because God is so much better. If you wish to partake of the divine nature, to be conformed to the image of Jesus, you have to allow Him to do the work. In his book Fear and Trembling, the nineteenth-century Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard faces the deeply ingrained tradition of rationalism, writing about going beyond mere reason and becoming a Knight of Faith, demonstrated through the story of Abraham and Isaac. Faith is hope in things unseen, and it is especially put to the test when the circumstances are so logically contrary to what God has willed for us. When God called Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, his only son, the one whom he loved, did it not seemingly contradict God’s promise to bless Abraham through Isaac? Human sacrifice is clearly evil, it is condemned, and yet Abraham, in obedience, was not only willing to contradict what seemed within the boundaries of reason but even the ethical boundaries of human life. God cannot be contained within the boundaries of human reason, lest we worship an idol. No, we can only be led to Him through it, but He is beyond it, so much greater and mysterious. In a similar way, despite all of the difficulties of this world, we are also called to sacrifice our Isaac, who was to Abraham the greatest of all blessings and the promise of a lasting legacy, that we might be conformed to Christ in surrender to the divine will. Sacrifice in this life is surrender. We are the king leading the army of ten thousand men, but Christ is He who commands the army of twenty thousand. Moreover, our army suffers from plague and cholera, His is in immaculate condition. Our kingdom can neither feed nor clad our soldiers, His army is well-prepared and full of vigor. In this world, surrender can mean death, but the One to whom we surrender is kind and merciful. Surrender is Life.

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me… I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No man comes to the Father except through me.” —JOHN 10:14, JOHN 14:6

The pursuit of righteousness is not indifference, it is not apathy, it is not weakness. The true faith is strength refined in love. A strength that can only come from recognizing one’s inherent weakness. We do not seek to be strong so that we may boast, but rather that we can perform the tasks necessary so that we may never have to worry about being strong again. Strength is necessary in labor and in war, but in peace, it is not. This is why we must look to the Crown of Thorns. The glory and dignity of Christ was revealed on Mount Tabor, a transfiguration, that is, in Him radiating the glory of God in what could only be understood as pure light, which left the apostles in fear and trembling, dumbfounded by such a display (Luke 9:28-36). It is a callback, in a sense, to Moses speaking to God on Mount Sinai, where the divine energies of God, those brilliant white rays of love, poured into the depths of Moses such that his face glowed (Exodus 34:33-35). Those who seek victory through brutality and connivery have earned their reward, but evil is self-destructive. One might think that in order to overcome the world, one must act according to the ways of the world. The Cross, the Crown of Thorns, these are not symbols of submission to the world. The Greek word for sin is hamartia, which means “to miss the mark.” If one had to think about the world as one great system, every act of sin would bring about disharmony, and in this fallen world man is caught in a storm of disharmony. A single act of disobedience has brought war, famine, disease, plague, and all kinds of misery. The Crown of Thorns was laid upon He who perfectly contradicted this disharmonious harmony. Where there was sickness and death, there came healing. Where there was sin, there came forgiveness. Where there was pride, greed, and might, there came humbling. In a storm, a tree can stand firm, bend, break, or be pulled from its roots. The Christ was nailed to an upright tree which stood firmly in the ground. Indeed, these two things are signs of victory, won by endurance, brought about through obedience to God, and sanctified by the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ, who having commended His spirit to the Father performed an unfathomably significant act of mercy for the world. The benevolence of God defines this wreath. A benevolence which could not be appreciated without the extreme humility of the Son.

compassion. If you truly seek to imitate Christ, you must first understand human nature. Christ is a sign of contradiction, so you should expect opposition and humiliation. In the spirit of imitating Christ's humility, we can render the assaults of this world powerless, as our God provides us with the strength to endure. The path to enduring faith is paved with humble submission to our Creator, and as we follow in the footsteps of Christ, our steadfastness will become a beacon of hope to those around us. What consolation God gives you, He gives you. For Christ, it was to drink of sour wine (John 19:29). And our Father has given us more material comforts than His Son during His crucifixion. He knows how much we can endure. If we fall, remember that Christ too fell. Because His Father loved Him, and because He loved His Father, there came a man, Simon of Cyrene, who helped Him carry His Cross, even if for a short time. Wear your crown, for you were born to be a conqueror, though it might not be as glorious in this life as the world would have you believe. Today it is a crown which harms, but if you endure, it will be replaced with an imperishable crown.

“Fear not, for I am with thee: turn not aside, for I am thy God. I have strengthened thee, and have helped thee, and the right hand of my just one hath upheld thee.” –ISAIAH 41:10 DRA

It is good to remember that God was under no obligation to redeem the world. Did Christ command the angels to strike down the Pharisees? Did fire from the sky consume the Romans? No. Christ knows the heart of man, and the Crown of Thorns is a product of its vanity. God came into the world to save man, and we rewarded Him with torture and death. We challenged His kingship, and because He did not deny His rightful claim, we mocked Him. The love of God is beyond our understanding, but if we allow our hearts to accept it, it will change us forever. If we turn our back on Him, the great emptiness of the world will only become more apparent. For a man born in a cave can never see the darkness the same way once he sees the light. He will lament having lost that great clarity and warmth if he should return to the cave, and there is no certainty that he will find his way back out. How can we wear our own Crown of Thorns? First, it requires submission to God. It means having a heart receptive to God’s love by accepting our filiation in the waters of baptism, which can then be poured out into the world. Second, it means a willingness to sacrifice all. A willingness, but not necessarily the act itself. Just as Abraham was willing to give up Isaac, he did not lose him. One has to become indifferent to loss, because nothing has ever truly belonged to us (Psalm 24:1). All good things come from the Father of lights, and our role as servants and our promised inheritance as sons and daughters in this life supersede all material comforts. Third, it is understanding and

WHO AM I?

Sarah Hinkel

Who am I? A daughter? A student? A sister? A Christian? A friend? Am I just another face passing by? Just another speck in the infinite expanse of time and space? Who am I? Society sees my success, a small town girl studious enough to surpass the expectations placed upon her, so smart, so strong, so sweet. It's so superficial. Watching me tick the boxes of my life, witnessing every win of an award, wrapping another laurel wreath upon my head, weaving a tantalizing tapestry of my achievements, writing the spectacular story of Sarah. Whatever isn’t great and glamorous can be ignored. Will I ever measure up to what the world wants from me? Penn parallels these particular sentiments, admiring my ambition, applauding my appetite for adventure, and allowing me to abide in its acclaim. Another star among many for the world to admire, propagated from a pool of perfect peers. Who am I? Family and friends are more forgiving, though they do not forgo any fault. Thoughts of failing family feel fatiguing, time spent forging faces to forget frustrations, trying to flip between the flood of thoughts and work, while falling into moments of fun. Floundering in my fantasies for their favor, when will I stop fumbling for far-flung expectations, fabricated by my fervent quest for faultlessness? Although I’ll never admit it, deep down, I know I’m not enough. I’ll probably never meet the world’s expectations for me, But I know I’ll never, ever come close to meeting my expectations for myself. …and I know I’ll keep trying to surpass them anyway. Who am I?

O my God, my Creator, Guider of my life, who do You see me as? A daughter? A student? A sister? A Christian? A friend? Am I more than just these labels to You? Worthy of so great a sacrifice? Why would You love a broken mess like me? one whom You call Your daughter, one whom You would leave a flock of ninety-nine to save, helpless as a sheep in a den of lions. Why would You care to know my name, O You who created the heavens and the earth, You who numbered the hairs of my head. You who has power over sin and death, Why am I enough for You? Who am I to deserve this love? Who am I? You say I’m chosen, cleansed by the blood of the Lamb, called into company with the Almighty, carefully created according to Your design, A child brought into covenant with You, changed by Your amazing grace. Who am I? You say I’m forgiven, freed from the bondages of sin, fully accepted and adopted into Your family, flooded by Your flawless love. Held fast by Your favor, secured by my strong fortress, fearless in faith. Who am I? You say I’m saved, seen by Your omnipotent eyes, sanctified through the one suitable sacrifice, satisfied in Your sacred will. Stopped in my search to satisfy the world, abiding in Your strengthening shade. Shaped by Your call to new life. Who am I? Who will I be? Who should I be? I am who You say I am.

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. —1 Corinthians 6:19-20