03 02 17 issue 8 God on Trial

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GOD N TRIAL

The opinions, belief and viewpoints expressed by the various authors and interview participants do not necessarily reflect the opinions, beliefs and viewpoints of Burman University or its official policies or any affiliates. Each author sites his or her own words.

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E DI TOR’S NOTE, A. L .

SPI R I TUAL THIN K Y T HOUGHT S, P.G. UN DE RSTANDING G OD IN A SUFFE RING WORLD, R .G. SE A RCHING FOR G OD, K . C. W HE R E ARE YOU ? K . D. T H E JU STIC E OF G OD, D. I. T H E SE ARE THEIR STORIES, S.W. W HIC H OU TR AGEOU S , STE RE OT YPICAL CHRISTIAN A RE YOU? R .S. F ROM MY SEAT, T. S .

HEY SNOW FL AK E, J. B. I SURV IVED. . . G ET T ING ACROSS THE CANA DIA N B ORDE R , L.R .

E M BA RR AS SING STORIES : WHE N I DE CIDE D TO BE A DANCE R , S.C .

W HAT ’S C O OK’ N WIT H FINE CHINA , T.A .

F I ST BUMPS W ITH JESU S , A .C. T H E DAY THE B OAT AL MOST SANK [MISSIONS FE ATURE ], C.W. A RT: A REL IGION , Z . M. SUPE R- FIG HT SERIES [ C OM IC], D.A. T R E N DING NOW: FASION, R .Z. BE F ORE S OMET HING , T HE RE WAS EV E RY THING, E .A .

A LON E , A. G .

G OD TOL D ME TO D O IT [C OMIC], R .M.

E D I T O R’ S NOTE Have you ever been so surrounded, so engulfed yet not immersed? Sometimes it is stifling to be on a Christian campus and have questions and doubts about God. I have… it seems almost as blasphemous to admit it or worse say it aloud. It’s painful to carry the burden of unanswered, unacknowledged doubt.

The easiest thing I’ve noticed is to give up on God entirely or worse, go through the emotions after all no one actually knows the difference. Raise a hand there, bow a head here and smile, always smile and say God is good all the time. I remember once saying that and having the bitterness so thick as it rolled off my tongue and ache in my chest and a ball fist hard in my pocket.

Suffering brings a sense of betrayal against the idea of who we’ve been taught God to be. We sang songs about him in kindergarten, Jesus wants me for a sunbeam, Jesus Loves me this I know but somewhere between kindergarten and college this simple faith and belief isn’t enough. Now there are questions. Now there are the incomprehensible reality of heartbreak, or a car crash… cancer, drugs, abuse, racism, rape, genocide, discrimination, war. And the one pulsating question— Why God? Our arguments against God usually originate in the observation that the world is so cruel and unjust. It’s hard to believe in the goodness of God in the midst of suffering, pain and injustices. It appears irreconcilable with the existence of a good, loving God. It may be simpler to dismiss him than to grapple with the questions, some of which we still have no answers for. Andrew Solomon says in his Ted Talk on “How the worst moments in our live makes us who we are.”1 Andrew said most eloquently “When we can see a definite purpose behind our pain, it becomes tolerable. It becomes a gift that is endurable. We don’t seek the painful experiences that hew our identities, but we seek our identities in the wake of painful experiences. We cannot bear a pointless torment, but we can endure great pain if we believe that it’s purposeful.”

Faith fulfills our deepest desires for purpose and identity. C. S. Lewis made a case for God. Lewis argued that every natural, innate desire has a corresponding object to satisfy that desire. Humans, he argued, desire something that this world cannot satisfy, something that exists outside the known realm of earth— God.2 In Him we live and move and exist.3 In reaching an understanding of pain and suffering we then relieve the all-knowing all-powerful, loving God of the responsibility of our suffering and explore his role in turning it into purpose. It is then we begin to comprehend the implications of Jesus becoming human, suffering as we do, weeping as we do, feeling separated and alone and unloved4 as we often do. It is then our doubts become faith as small as mustard seeds. In that despite the pain and the overwhelming thoughts and news reports—that we are abandoned, we can see our beloved Father with us in our pain.

Because He never left.

Andrew Solomon (2014, March) How the worst moments in our live makes us who we are 2 Lewis, C S. Mere Christianity. New York: MacMillan Pub. Co, 1952. Print.

3 Acts 17:28 4 Matthew 27:46 (Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabach thani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?)

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Ashia Lennon

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BELIEVE

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BE L I EV E T HAT T H E SU N HAS R I SE N : N O T O N LY B E C AU S E I S E E I T, B U T B E CAUSE BY IT I SEE EVERY THING ELSE." C. S. LEWIS

S P I R I T UA L T H I N K Y T H O U G H T S I wrote the following blog post on March 22, 2009, about a week after I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

I imagine that no one gets a diagnosis like this without spending some time thinking pretty seriously about life and death. I’ve really never been the sort of person to whine to God, “Why me?” After all, crap happens to everybody. Why not me?

I’ve spent a lot of time in the hospital with my son, and I’ve seen so many people with stories that make me grateful for my life. And I’ve seen so many people with so much faith and joy in spite of the hand they’ve been dealt by life that I’d feel positively an ungrateful wretch to complain about my lot.

However, I’ve also had words with God. There’s no point in trying to deceive Him or myself. I could have done without this. For the last couple of years, we’ve dealt with my son’s prematurity, kidney issues, hypertension, low muscle tone, gross motor skill delay, weird status seizures, allergies to seizure meds, and liver problems with the med he isn’t allergic to.

My husband has had surgery twice. And for a garnish, someone totaled our car. Really, the only possible response to my developing breast cancer is to laugh like Sisyphus as he watched that darn rock roll back down the hill. The irony is intense. I’ve told God I don’t mind being Job, but I have objections to being Job’s children.

Tomorrow morning several of the pastors of my church are coming over to pray for me, and one of the things they are going to ask is what I want them to pray for. That’s an interesting question. The easy answer would be for healing. Who wouldn’t want to walk away from such a path? Who wouldn’t say “Let this cup pass.” And I will ask it.

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But I have a more important request. I want my son, who has had enough dreadful things happen to him already in his short life, to have his mommy for a long, long time—say about 50 more years. So if this disease is my assigned path, I want to make the best choices for the best medical care and the best lifestyle with the best outcome. I want to beat this thing and live.

I’d also like to have another baby, not an easy thing to accomplish at my age after cancer treatments. Finally, there is the hardest request, the one I can only make with my mind and not my heart—that through this experience I will feel God’s presence so close that I will learn to trust him to pick the best answer, even to the requests I haven’t the courage to make, and that he will make whatever my life is to be as full of meaning as a life can be.

There are a great many comforting texts in the Bible, but I’ve often found more comfort in the anguished ones. I guess misery loves company, even company a couple thousand years old. I happened to be going through Isaiah when all this was sprung on me, so I’m going to post some ancient Hebrew poetry:

I will weep bitterly; Do not labor to comfort me . . .

For it is a day of trouble And treading down and perplexity.

Isaiah 22:5 I haven’t really had time to do this. I’ve scheduled a day off next week between finishing work and my surgery to fall apart. I’m going off by myself for a walk around the lake where no one can see me. If anyone is around, I’ll buck up and stiffen that lip and be all strong and holding it together. I don’t even know how I’ve reacted to having cancer yet. I’m still keeping the idea at bay with a chair.

Sometimes I prefer the fight texts, kind of like locker room pep talks: Behold all they that were incensed against you shall be ashamed and confounded; They shall be as nothing, and they that strive with you shall perish.

You shall seek them and shall not find them— Even they that contended with you.

They that war against you shall be as nothing, as a nonexistent thing.

For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, saying to you, “Fear not, I will help you.”

Isa. 41:11-13 So there, Cancer! You are gonna be a nonexistent thing! You step into the ring with me and God, and you are gonna die, perish, kick the bucket, shuffle off this mortal coil. I am gonna kill you so dead it’ll be like you never existed! (Picture me in an absurd superhero costume and in need of a diet.)

Here’s one that I claimed for my baby when he was one and a half years old and still unable to crawl. This is one of the comfort ones.

They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

Isa. 40:31 It’s not always easy to wait. I want results immediately.

But he’s cruising around the furniture now, and walking fairly well holding on to our hands. If he ever starts running and not being weary, we are going to be running and weary. So I’m very thankful.

This last one reminds me that God doesn’t stop the storms, remove the lions, or quench the fiery furnaces.

But he does stand with you in their midst.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.

When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon you.

Isa. 43:2-3 I guess I’m going to have to trust he’s standing here now.

DR . PAT SY GL AT T

U N D E R S TA N D I N G G O D I N A S U F F E R I N G W O R L D The older I get, the less I look forward to entering an upcoming new year. Surprisingly, It’s not because of the feeling of inadequacy that comes with breaking new resolutions, nor is it the crippling fear of having to go through another year of not fully knowing Gods plan for my life; but really and truly, it is because with each new year I become increasingly more aware of the pain and suffering that is going on.

Whether it’s the fact that a single city can have a higher death rate than the war in the middle east, or that pharmaceuticals aim to make money rather than to heal millions of people who need it, or that the entire fabric of a country’s economic and political system is meant to keep minorities enslaved, and those who were sworn to “serve and protect” end up succumbing “spite and prejudice”. How about the fact that the spokesperson for the “free world” runs on a reputably Christian platform and yet still is EVERYTHING except what Christ was like? Or perhaps it’s the fact that the very church that I love and cherish is not as sensitive as I wish we were when it comes to gender equality or of those of certain sexual orientations.

With all of these things happening we I often hear the questions “Where is God and why is He letting all of this happen!?”

GOD NEEDED TO PROVE THAT CHOICE FOR SIN WOULD LEAD TO SUFFERING. God’s creation was perfect. Adam and Eve, the first people, received a free will, but they were pure and therefore had direct contact and fellowship with God. Satan was full of evil and wanted to destroy this harmony. It was his opinion that, given the choice, people would rather sin than obey God. God could just have shut him up, or even changed his mind forcibly, but He has too much respect for free will, even the free will of those who choose to disobey Him. So instead of forcing Satan back to the light God needed to prove that the way of sin would only lead to suffering.

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THE CAUSE OF SUFFERING ON EARTH All safirring and pain on earth is either a direct or an indirect result of sin. Even natural disasters happen because the world was cursed. Sin tainted everything and it’s become worse and worse as time went on.

When a person sinned, he reaped suffering, those around him suffered, the earth itself suffered. The nature of the world itself became tainted with thorns and thistles. This wasn’t a spiteful God going overboard on the punishments. This was a natural result of the laws God had made long before He even created the earth. He knew that sinning brought suffering. That’s why He tries so hard to get us not to do it.

SO WHY DOESN’T’T GOD JUST STOP ALL THE SUFFERING? God “could” step in at any moment and put to end to all of the pain. He certainly has the strength and power to do so, but if He did so it would instantly prove all that Satan has been trying to render true - That God’s Laws are unfair that God himself is unjust. Sin causes all suffering and pain, God knows it and He wants all of creation to understand that. It is unimaginable how much it hurts God when you lose a loved one, when innocent people are treated harshly, when we cannot pay for school, when we feel lonely and depressed, when you are not understood, when you are overlooked and judged, or even for the simple fact that you had a bad day - all because He knows that He has to let sin run its course. He longs to put an end to sin and the awful effects of it. He wants all of creation to live in harmony just like it was in the beginning but this time he needs to make sure that nobody can bring sin into the new creation. God’s end goal is to stop suffering for eternity and that’s why He needs to be able to show beyond a shadow of a doubt that sin alone leads to misery and suffering.

And in order to get that proof He has to play by the rules He Himself lay down.

SO WHAT DO WE DO NOW? Being an Acronaire head coach has changed my perspective on God by ten-fold. I love all of my team members and I tell them all the time that I would do anything in my power for them in any way that I can. However, because I want them to be the best they can be, I am going to push them and teach them skills that are going to require the path of failure and hurt. This year we have had severely torn muscles, ankles and rib sprained, and back contusions.

This was not part of my plan as coach but I know that it is potentially part of the process if they want to achieve a high standard.

Thankfully they trust me enough to listen to my instructions and know that I have their best interest at heart even when they are scared of the unknown. In the same way God sent us Jesus as an example that we can still achieve the high standard despite the effects of sin. In fact, our heavenly Coach will use this sin filled world to make us the best versions of ourselves if we choose to let Him lead us.

That is why in James 1:2-4 it says that we should be happy when we face trials and tribulations because it makes us become closer to Gods ideal expectation and our greatest usefulness. Just like advanced challenges make my athletes better, God will lead you into some adverse situations as well as sometimes allow bad things to happen in your life because He knows it’s a refining process that will make you more like Him. And the best news is that because He is the greatest Coach of all time he will never give you more than He knows you can handle (1 Corinthians 10:13).

So the next time you recognize suffering in the world or that you are going through a hard time, know that God has never left your side, that you are capable of handling it, and He does have a plan to save the world (Jeremiah 29:11) and He needs your help to do so.

(Partial excerpt from activechristianity.org)

R I C H A R D G R AY

SEARCHING FOR GOD When I was younger, I had friends consistently telling me they felt like God wasn’t there. That they were genuinely searching but still couldn’t find God, his presence or his peace. That they searched with their whole hearts, desperately, painfully – yet still came up with nothing. It bothered me and I cried out to God for them, begging him to answer, to reveal himself, to just show up. As the years progressed and my life changed, I started asking myself the same questions my friends had once came to me with. Where was God? During my second year of University, I found myself in a very dark depression. It was the messiest, scariest and hardest time of my life and I felt like God was nowhere to be found for the majority of it. Through it all, I rarely felt the comfort or peace God promised. I rarely heard his voice when I felt like I needed it most.

I searched. Desperately, wholeheartedly, unashamed to admit I was lost. He didn’t seem to show up yet still I clung to him and my faith despite the lack of his presence and my lack of will to live. I decided I couldn’t return to Burman the following year; I needed something different. I was too afraid I would come back and have a similar depression filled year that I just had. So I prayed for an opportunity to do something else and decided a mission trip would be just the thing I needed.

I chose a little orphanage in Samaipata, Bolivia. At the time, I truly felt like God wanted me to go. I didn’t have money and neither did my family, so when I received the funds in full from donations and camp pay, I took it as a miracle from God and a sure sign that he wanted me in Bolivia. Except the minute I stepped off the plane in South America I felt like I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I was still just as depressed but this time in a new country without the ability to communicate.

The orphanage was extremely conservative and mental illness wasn’t understood by the Adventists I was with. I was trying my best everyday yet consistently beat down because it wasn’t enough. If I was just letting Jesus be enough for me, I would be able to be a better servant to the people I had left my home for. If I got up at 5 am to exercise, have worship and then spent the rest of the day in the garden I would be healed. “Ellen White says this, Ellen White says that!”, “Kaylie, if your relationship with Jesus was stronger, you’d be able to do more without being sad!”

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Throughout it all, I kept searching for God. Desperately. Probably more than ever before. If God brought me here, why wasn’t he enough for me to stay here? Why couldn’t I at least feel peace? Should I go home? Should I stay? What was the point of it all? Getting out of bed most days was the hardest thing I’d ever faced. Not returning to my bed throughout the day after was even harder. At times, there was peace. Sometimes I felt like God gave me glimpses, I won’t try and discredit those moments. Being away from the situation now, however, I can attribute those moments to anything; finding what I needed in order to stay alive, hope, serendipitous events, what have you. Maybe it was God, maybe it wasn’t. Overall though, I found no answers. No clarity.

After two months of extreme unrest and battling – I decided to return home. I felt like a failure but I needed help and I wasn’t able to get what I needed in Bolivia.

I felt like I failed those who donated. I failed my mission partner. I failed the kids I had grown to love. I had failed Burman and the campus that had been cheering me on from afar. But I didn’t feel like I had failed God; I felt like God had failed me.

Upon returning, my depression got worse before it got better. I was living in Calgary at my dad’s house. He also suffers from depression, and it was a very dark time for us both. I continued to search, but this time frustrated with God for not showing up. I asked God to show me three things. I wanted him to tell me, “I am good, I am just, I love you”. I waited and searched and waited and searched. I heard nothing and concluded that I was alone. I felt like most people at Burman were disappointed with me and the ones who had supported my decision to come home were busy with school. I was irrational. I still hadn’t found a job after being back for a whole month (Alberta economy, amiright?) and I still felt no desire for this life.

For the first time, suicide became an option and not just a thought I sometimes had. I remember very specifically the exact moment I decided to kill myself. I was straightening my hair and watching myself in the mirror as I did so. I decided that I would do it and I didn’t feel sad. I didn’t feel anything but clarity that this was the only choice left before me. It was as I was still straightening my hair that my phone rang. It was the manager of a little coffee shop at Café Artigiano; a job I had applied for earlier in the month.

They offered me the job and asked me to come in the following day. So, the next day I went in and instead of making a suicide plan and following through with that plan, I was trained on how to steam milk properly so it would complement the espresso perfectly. In the weeks that followed, instead of thinking about suicide, I would spend 8 hours a day trying to draw a Rosetta in the lattes of rich customers. I would wake up, go to work, go home and get back into bed until the next day where I’d do it again. Slowly, things got better. I made friends with the beautiful ladies that I worked with. I started antidepressants. I stopped thinking about killing myself as a legitimate option. Things weren’t good but they were no longer bad. Life didn’t have a lot of meaning, but it was enough to have a job to show up to everyday and friends to greet me every morning.

I spent the remainder of the year working at Artigiano.

I had given up on God completely. I did my own thing and lived my life the way that I felt like living it. This September, I started my third year of University here at Burman. I came back a militant atheist absolutely bitter and frustrated with everybody who mentioned God. Rolling my eyes when professors prayed before classes and ranting to my best friend about the rules I viewed as conservative and how unloving those claiming to hold love could often be. I avoided pretty much everyone on this campus in part due to depression; in part due to avoiding their questions and “God talk”.

I had a perfectly rehearsed response to how my mission trip went for whenever I did run into somebody.

A lot of people angrily asked me why I bothered coming back after having such a paradigm shift. Honestly, I don’t know why I came back. But I’m here and I’m growing and this semester I’m a little bit less annoyed and my rants are shorter. I’m open to the mention of God and I’ve even found myself at Vespers asking myself the tough questions. I think I’m searching.

At the time, I didn’t see getting that job as an act of God but looking back, maybe it was. It wasn’t the answer I had been searching for and I feel like it came much later than I had wanted but regardless - I can’t deny that it was the timing that saved my life. Maybe it wasn’t God, maybe it was fate. I don’t know. But now, for the first time in a long time, I’m open to the idea that maybe God is there. And if he is, I certainly have a lot of figuring out to do about his character and whether or not he’s worth following. Most days I’m questioning his goodness and on the rest of the days, I’m denying his existence. I hope that if God is there and is good; he’s big enough and strong enough pursue me while I search and to continue that pursuit even on the days where I give up.

K AY L I E COPELAND

W H E R E A R E YO U ?

The doubt of God’s character concerning why he permits evil is in the mind of anyone that does not understand the character of God. Why would a perfect and loving God allow someone to go through something they do not deserve? Most of the times we ask that question when we are faced with stories where the victim did nothing to deserve the consequences that they received. I personally react that way when I hear about children being molested by a close relative and recently after I saw pictures of the city of Aleppo after it had been bombed.

Personally I believe that we Christians have been caught up in looking at Theodicy which is the vindication of divine goodness and providence in view of the existence of evil, from the wrong perspective. As I attempted to write this article I was trying to use reason the article out, but I quickly realized there are a lot of reasons to combat. Then the Lord reminded me of what Joseph said to Pharaoh when he said that “It is not in me; God will give Pharaoh a favorable answer.”(Genesis 41:16).1 So let’s look in the Bible on how to vindicate Gods divine goodness and providence.

So how does the bible say we will be able to show Gods goodness and providence? Jesus tells us to “love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.” (John 13:34)2 and not speak about love but act out of love.

Now why must we love? Because we have been called “… a witness for Him to all men of what you have seen and heard.”(Acts 22:15).3 Witness is “to bear witness to; testify to; give or afford evidence of.”4 Now my question is what kind of evidence are we giving to the word about the divine goodness and providences of God? We may speak all we want but if the only evidence the world has to base their understanding of the goodness of God is the works of the flesh then we are not doing what we have been called to do. In 1 Corinthians 11:1 Paul tells us to “Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ.”5 Notice how Paul does not tell the readers to speak the words of Christ but rather follow Christ?

Now if we had a group of Christians, no matter what denominations following Christ’s example of giving people the value they deserve, no matter if they are man, women, child or members of the LGBTQ community. Healing the people around their community of their physical, and spiritual needs for free. Then I believe the question of Gods divine goodness and providence would not be a real question, but a denial of God’s goodness. Ellen G White wrote in her book Steps To Christ that “Perhaps they do not read the Bible, or do not hear the voice that speaks to them in its pages; they do not see the love of God through His works. But if you are a true representative of Jesus, it may be that through you they will be led to understand something of His goodness and be won to love and serve Him.”6 We are called to vindicate God’s character not through our words but through our actions.

What the world is in dire need of in these days that we are living in, are men, women and children who are willing to lift up Christ in their actions in the good times and in order to show the world the love of and goodness of God. “Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another; for he who loves his neighbor has fulfilled the law” Romans 13:87 The Bible. Authorized King James Version, Oxford UP, 1998.

The Bible. Authorized King James Version, Oxford UP, 1998.

3 The Bible. Authorized King James Version, Oxford UP, 1998.

4 witness. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged. Retrieved January 30, 2017 from Dictionary.com website http://www.dictionary.com/browse/witness 5 The Bible. Authorized King James Version, Oxford UP, 1998.

6 White, E. G. (1892). Steps to Christ. Mountain View, CA: Pacific Press Publishing Association. Pp. 115.1 7 The Bible. Authorized King James Version, Oxford UP, 1998.

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KEV IN DUART E

THE JUSTICE OF GOD In my short lifetime, I have experienced the pleasure of knowing God for myself. I have grown to know Him as being a just God. Unfortunately for many in the world today that statement is not true. Many either do not believe that God is real and if they do believe He is real, they do not believe He is just. They will say, “how can God be all powerful and allow evil or order genocide”? Like Job, many attempt to put God on trial. I am, by no means, trying to say that I will be His attorney. He does not need me to do that.

The art of defending the justice of God is called Theodicy.

In answering the first question it is important to discuss the will of God in light of sin and human choice. In essence bringing to light that every advantage has a disadvantage and vice versa. The same can be said for the blessing that we hold on to so dearly. The blessings of grace and of choice.

Sin is a critical element to grace because grace is part of God’s answer to the problem of sin. Therefore, men must have the ability to sin in order to be able to sin. We would also need the ability to believe in order to be given grace.

That ability is paramount to human life and it is called choice! It is the same ability that allows us to make negative and positive decisions. Even as small as staying in bed or going to work.

The only way for God to remove our capability to do evil is to force us not to. This would mean that we would be unable to choose sin. However, if we were unable to choose sin we would also be unable to choose God as well. We would be forced to be holy rather than made to be as a result of our choice to answer God’s plea for our repentance. As John states “there is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” (1 John 4:18). Our love for God is not supposed to come from what blessings He gives or our fear of hell but of love. It may start as one of these things but as the bible states perfect love drives out fear.

As a child I was fortunate enough to have siblings. Two older sisters and one little brother. As, I’m sure anyone with siblings will agree, we had our fair share of iniquity and injustice towards each other.

Now imagine, let’s say, that my sister was physically and emotionally abusive towards me. She would hit me, call me names and lower my quality of life daily. Now as a child, I know that my father loves me and therefore I go to him with my plea for justice. The problem is that my father is so loving that he loves my sister just as much as he loves me. How will he then act out of love in face of this conflict?

If my father decides to do nothing, and stay out of it, I will say that my father does not love me. How can my father see the suffering I am going through at the hands of my sister, have the power to stop it, and do nothing. That is not love; that is giving preferable treatment to the abuser and less to the victim. Or if my father gives a punishment that is overly severe to my sister who was abusing me, now my father is unjust because the punishment has not matched the crime and I am receiving preferable treatment as a victim. True justice requires impartiality in order to be fair, and compassion in order to be given. Justice comes out of compassion for the victim and the accuser. So that one can be indemnified and the other can be corrected.

If God puts up with our evil in case we repent and choose Him and we are thankful for that, we must remember that He extends the same mercy to the entire world. This is why He remains all powerful and yet allows evil. It is because of His love, not His cruelty.

Many however, are still uncomfortable with the fact that God orders the killing of people. There are many examples of war in the bible and the explicit order of genocide does not happen as often as some may think. However, it still does happen. That being said, how can God be loving and just if He kills people? The answer to this is more straightforward than many would presume. In 1 Corinthians 13:6 Paul explains that love does not “…rejoice in iniquity…”

Iniquity is defined as “a violation of act or duty; wicked act; sin”.

Paul was saying that love does not rejoice in any violation of act or duty, wicked act or sin. If God is truly just He must also show that He does not rejoice with any form of iniquity. Many would say that God’s justice is outside of His love but God’s justice is actually part of His love.

DA N IEL INNO C E NT

THESE ARE THEIR STORIES Interview with Ms. Clark

No matter how short a visit may be to Ms. Clark’s office in the library, I always leave with a new book added to my To Read List, a new idea to contemplate, and a smile. When I asked Ms. Clark about her childhood, she told me that although she is the youngest of six siblings, she was raised like an only child because she came late in her parents’ lives: “One of my favorite pictures is of my parents shot from behind, so you see my dad holding me in the crook of his arm. He and Mom are both looking down at me and you can tell they are an older couple. My mother was a very kind woman who loved beauty and a very smart one; though she had only one year to get post-secondary education, she was interested in everything—she just loved to learn.”

A love of learning is something I—and many others— have certainly observed in Ms. Clark, so I ask her if this was an aspect of her childhood. “Not always,” she replies.

“With mild cerebral palsy and teachers in a rural public school in northwest Saskatchewan, it wasn’t easy. Writing by hand—which I had to do a lot of—was difficult.

I remember feeling very confused because I knew I was smart, my parents told me I was smart, but I completed my work very slowly and my handwriting was messy and those were not [thought to be] marks of a smart person.

Students taunted me every day. One of the things they called me was ‘retard.’ [Later,] I went away from home and lived with church members during the week so I could go to church school in Medicine Hat and we had a really smart teacher, Mrs. Farag [whose husband was senior pastor at College Heights in the 70s]. She was born and raised in Baghdad by a Swiss mother and Iraqi father.

Their family had been Christians since the time of the apostles. She knew three languages and had travelled the world. Suddenly I understood where my brains could take me! I still did a lot of handwriting but I didn’t mind so much anymore. She never criticized my handwriting. She also had bad handwriting herself, she said, because she’d grown up writing Arabic and had to transfer to cursive English. That was a big deal to me to have a role model like that at twelve years old.”

After coming to school on the hilltop and graduating with degrees in biology and education, Ms. Clark taught church school and then came back here to earn certification for teaching math and English.

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One year she taught biology and chemistry for the Red Deer College adult education program, driving out to Rocky Mountain House, Ponoka, and Stettler multiple times a week. “It gave me a really interesting insight into the rest of the world. I met some extremely bright people who had simply not had an opportunity for further education and didn’t realize what they could do. And, of course, I met some others too. I had one student fail a [biology] test. I thought perhaps he was dyslexic because he did much better on the diagrams than he did on the written questions. I found out he was actually drunk and I didn’t know it!”

When she decided to go to graduate school, her eclectic interests proved something of a dilemma: “I really couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be a biologist or an English professor. Then someone said, ‘You like everything. Why don’t you be a librarian?’”

After some time at Walla Walla she moved back to Alberta and her expertise as a librarian proved a unique source of enjoyment for her newly widowed mother who commenced a thorough self-education program, reading history, world religions, and the biographies and memoirs of famous figures like Gandhi, Churchill, and Thatcher.

On her mother’s 91st birthday, Ms. Clark recalls, “I said, ‘Mom, you’ve read all these things, where would you like your reading to go now?’ That’s when she said, ‘I don’t know much about Italian fascism. Why did they fight with Hitler?’ I got her a biography of Mussolini, which she finished two days before she died. She was telling my sister all about Mussolini—far more than she wanted to know.’”

“I’m very interested in the relationship between belief and spirituality.

It’s very important to know the history of our ideas. We can take something out of the Bible and say it’s biblical without realizing the lenses of culture and time that we wear.

In fact, it’s something exemplified in her mother’s life that Ms. Clark especially wants students to know: “The elderly are not automatically as conservative as people think.

When the women were ordained in the Columbia Union and Southeastern California Conference, we celebrated together. When Pastor Massiel was commissioned, my mother came to the service. Women’s ordination was a very important issue to her. She strongly supported it and many of her friends supported it.”

Joy in the spiritual journey is certainly a characteristic of Ms. Clark who is trained in and available to provide spiritual companionship “to anyone who wants it.” Spiritual companions, she explains, “walk alongside people who are seeking to deepen their relationship with God; we ask questions and offer suggestions about things they may not have thought of before. For example, I require my students [in the Christian Spirituality class] to come for spiritual direction and I ask them what they really like to do—what gives them joy. Then we look at how that is a connection with God.” Her own spiritual practice involves “pray[ing] the hours.

This goes back to Daniel praying three times a day. [In Acts,] Peter and John were going up to the temple at three to pray. The desert fathers took a verse in Psalms very literally where it says, ‘Seven times a day do I praise Thee.’”

Ms. Clark finds that using prayers from ancient Christians throughout the day can “bring us into community with a very wide swath of Christians through the ages.”

When I tell Ms. Clark that this Chronicle issue is on belief she says, “I’m very interested in the relationship between belief and spirituality. It’s very important to know the history of our ideas. We can take something out of the Bible and say it’s biblical without realizing the lenses of culture and time that we wear. Spirituality is a thread that runs through culture and time.” It’s a thread that has led her across the ocean for a spiritual retreat on the Isle of Iona, a centre of early Gaelic Christianity just off the Scottish coast. Iona is a place with “more sheep than people,” accessible only by taking the train “to the end of the track, then taking a ferry for a couple hours, then an hour and a half bus ride across an island, then a ten-minute ferry ride”—itself a pilgrimage. How Iona came to be founded in the 500s by the Irish missionary Columba is a story that seems ironically appropriate to hear from a librarian: “Columba fought with someone over a book. He asked to borrow a book, but secretly copied it. He was found out and in the ensuing conflict decided, or was asked, to leave Ireland and went to the isle of Iona where he founded the monastery that became a terrific centre of learning.”

While failure to return a book on time to the Burman library probably won’t create such dramatic results for anything besides our bank accounts, my visit with Ms. Clark reminds me that we have a little island of learning and spiritual presence, like Iona, right here on our campus— the librarian’s office. St. Columba would approve!

S A R A H WAL L AC E

WHICH OUTRAGEOUS,

STEREOT YPICAL CHRISTIAN ARE YOU?

An ode to the outlandish boxes we put ourselves in, And to those who actually fit in said boxes.

1. You meet someone of a different religion. You:

a) Immediately begin the process of converting them. b) Begin rallying the prayer warriors for fear of contamination. c) Begin laying down the law of the 28 Fundamental beliefs. d) Give them a hug and hope that they’ll join you for “Adventist” coffee sometime soon.

2. You find out that your good friend is addicted to porn. You:

a) Tell them that they’re wrong and they’ll burn in hell. b) Start the prayer circle! Bring out the olive oil! c) Recommend they read Mind, Character, and Personality by Ellen White. d) Say #pornlkillslove and walk away, satisfied.

3. You stub your toe. You:

a) Call out for the fire of heaven to burn the chair that was in your way. b) Call the prayer circle! c) Expect to fall asleep and then see Jesus. d) Utter every vegetarian swear word you know.

4. It’s Sabbath. You can usually be found:

a) Shouting condemnation at the street corners. b) Praying with your prayer circle people. c) Watching 3ABN. d) Taking a hike.

5. Your mother calls at a very unfortunate time. You:

a) Text her that your throat is sore from all the screaming you were doing saving souls. b) Tell her you’re still with the prayer circle. c) Tell her that you’re at the best part of steps to Christ. d) Brewing your very “Adventist” coffee.

6. Someone really, really, irritates you. You:

a) Turn yourself in for the murder that you’ve committed in your heart. b) Call the emergency prayer line. c) Pump Auntie Ellen’s The Great Controversy audiobook and transfer your negative feelings to Satan. d) Listen to Oceans to calm you down while drinking your “Adventist” coffee.

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7. It’s communion. The person before you take what is obviously the biggest piece of bread. You: a) Let them have it. They need more Jesus than you do anyways. b) Make a mental note to pray for their thieving soul during prayer circle later. c) Don’t care. There’s Haystack waiting for you at home anyways. d) Aren’t paying attention. You’re too busy planning your hike for later in your head.

8. You know the person talking to you is lying to you. You:

a) Scream, “Get thee behind me Satan!” b) Pray that the truth will be revealed. But not before you deliberate with the prayer circle what the truth could be. c) Hope that Auntie Ellen will guide you to the truth while reading The Spirit of Prophecy. d) Smile and nod. Offer them some of your “Adventist” coffee.

9. You see a very attractive person of the opposite sex. You:

a) Spoon your eyes out. Your eyes betrayed you. b) Tell them that God told you that you were destined to be married to each other. c) Put in a “silent prayer request.” Mention to the prayer circle that your eyes have seen the Promised Land.

They’ll put two and two together. d) Invite them for some not so Adventist coffee at Timmie’s.

10. Your main purpose for coming to Burman University is:

a) To figure out how to save the most souls. It’s a competition you’re not planning to loose. Duh. b) Create a network for your ever-expanding prayer circle. Duh. c) To find a wife/ husband. Duh. d) The beautiful landscape! And the hiking trails. Duh.

Results: Mostly A’s: The Fire and Brimstone Christian- Amazing Job! You are a zealous person who believes that everyone within earshot should hear you screaming about Jesus. You probably believe that you are the sole reason that these people are saved. Sorry, it wasn’t you. Congrats on screaming your way to heaven.

Mostly B’s: The Prayer Warrior- Beautiful Answers! You spend a lot of time on your knees! You look for people who need extra saving and purification and start talking… I mean praying… about them? No… for them. Congrats on getting God to hear you.

Mostly C’s: The Most Adventist Christian Known to Mankind- Your purpose is crystal clear! Your cheerful attitude towards looking at the world through one rose-colored lens is absolutely fascinating! You are the perfect cardboard Christian! Congrats on being the perfect Christian who is in the world but most definitely not of this world.

Mostly D’s: The Christian Hipster- Amazing! You’re doing an awesome job. You’re amazing at being Adventist coffee! Keep being awesome at offering lukewarm answers to superficial questions in your small kiddie pool.

Congrats on allowing others to see Christ instead of you.

R EC HEL L E-L EE SMITH

F R O M M Y S E AT It’s 3am, the harsh blue light of my computer fills the

You know that 16Personalities.com personality test?

room, my eyes are fighting to stay open, and all I need

The one with ENFJ, INFP, INTJ combos? Well, I go

to do is to answer one more question so that I can go

there so frequently, like, we’re talking at least twice

to sleep. Just one more question and I’ll know what

a month, that my computer has bookmarked it for

kind of pasta I am based on the cat and color I chose

me! What usually happens for me to go to a more se-

in the quiz. No, I wasn’t talking about questions for

rious quiz is that I’ll be watching a movie, either one

homework, because I always procrastinate doing that

that makes me cry because it’s a beautiful love sto-

(ever heard the saying “not the due date, not the due

ry and wow love! Or it’s a movie like interstellar that

date?” well, I’m the person they created that saying

gives me my weekly dose of an existential crisis, you

for). No, I’m talking about those Buzzfeed quizzes

know, for good measure, and I either think “based on

that always manage to lure you in with just one ta-

my personality, how do I show love/what part of my

gline like “are you more of a broom or a vacuum”?

character makes me so repulsive to men that I’m still

They suck me in. Every. Single. Time. It’s like they

single?” (I still haven’t figured it out?), or “based on

know I’m in a constant state of “who am I?????!!!!”.

my personality, what should I ACTUALLY be pursuing in life to make it the best possible before] I die

I can be completely fine, I’ll be scrolling through

and never exist again and have to say goodbye to all

Facebook and BAM! There it is. A personal invitation

my friends?”. And sometimes, I’ll retake the quiz just

to find out what color my aura is, and suddenly, I’m

to make sure one letter hasn’t changed from before.

37 quizzes in, no homework has been done, and my

For instance, there was one month when my INFP

eyes are aching from the light on the computer but

turned to an ENFP and I didn’t quite know how to

clearly, those are only secondary issues so I continue

take it… so I took it again. Talk about an identity cri-

on to yet another quiz. Usually, once I’ve taken a quiz,

sis, am I right?

I’ll move onto another one. However, should the result be somehow different than how I think it should

But guys, I promise I’m normal, I just enjoy putting

be, I will, quite literally, take that same quiz until I get

myself in a box because being systematic and precise

the answer I KNOW is right. Well, to me at least.

are important to me, even though that’s not what my personality profile says. I guess I’ll have to take the test again…

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Ta l i a Smith

Do you remember your 2nd grade teacher? Or even 2nd grade? It was the season of learning to type, memorize times tables and avoid her sexist black poodle that would nip at my ankles. The year I earned my first C grade in a class. And the year I heard a question I will never forget.

“If you were a snowflake, where would you want to land?”

Some students scribbled in their English journals that they would land in Hawaii, or the moon, or a polar bear’s mouth. I scoffed at their childish answers. As for me, I proudly penned, I would land in Antarctica.

That way, I would never melt. I sat back smugly in my blue plastic chair. I had won.

Now a few years down the road, I have a new answer: I would land here.

Now by here I’m not referring to the -40 Alberta mornings, walking to class before the sun has shown its glorious face. I’m talking about today, right now, the present.

Because a lot of life is spent wishing we were someplace else that could satisfy our deepest desires. Maybe its life back home, maybe it’s that one friend who has a more exciting life, maybe it’s the weekend or the summer.

In 2nd grade my sole goal in life was to be 14 years old, because 14 meant you’d made it. You’d arrived. It meant your clothes always fit. Your skater hair always looked effortless. But best of all, you were granted access to the one place in town which was forbidden to “children”, the upper story of the town’s YMCA. Oh to be 14, then life would be good.

And then it was 16, the golden age of competent social skills and the possibility of talking to girls. Just the possibility. But then 18 marked adulthood. You were handed a diploma and a perfectly figured out life. Also you would be an adult and that was supposed to be pretty great. But once all the parents at graduation piled into their cars and drove away, you were left with an empty feeling and a few cards from family you never talk to.

Oh but to be 21… Or 25… Once you’re making it on your own…

Hey Snowflake *** It never really stops does it?

I am 21 years old, struggle with comparing myself to others and have difficulty managing both my time and piles of dirty dishes. Thinking about 2nd grade now, I have to chuckle.

If I were a snowflake, I would want to land here.

Here means your stank breath in the morning. Your acne. Your sad attempt to “save money”. It looks a lot like your reflection in the mirror. Or the people you pass that you avoid making eye contact with.

Dr. Seuss speaks with the voice of a prophet in his last book he ever wrote. In Oh the Places You’ll Go, we’re told of the worst place to find yourself in life- the waiting place. A place where we are profoundly dissatisfied with where we find ourselves at the moment.

More often than not, I slide into the waiting place, where life is better and more exciting and happier.

But is this place real?

How would you answer that question to second grade me? Because there is something beautifully tragic about how a snowflake so quickly lands and melts and returns to the water cycle. A snowflake’s life is short. But if I were a snowflake, I’d want to land here.

JEF F BR A DBU RN

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I SU RV I V E D. . .

GET TING ACROSS THE CANADIAN B ORDER I can say I have had many challenges. Reflecting on everything life has thrown my way, through the uncertainty, fears and frustrations, I am so thankful and proud of my inner strength because I. am. still. standing. Call me wonder woman if you dare, but nothing is going to stop this Texan from moving forward!

Not even the Canadian border!

I had butterflies not the beautiful kind, but the type that grapples your stomach and reminds you of what you had for lunch... It was my first flight to Canada but I really did not enjoy the flight so I did what every awkward natured person does, people watching. Everyone appeared relaxed and excited to be going home or visiting Canada. I…I was a ball of nerves. All these thought came, you know thoughts one shouldn’t have on a plane like how do I get off, what to do if the plane gets shot down. I really had to reassure myself and practice those deep breathing techniques but the most relaxing thing I could imagine was flying back to the U.S. right back home. The thought of redirecting this journey was not an option in my mind nor my parents, so I shuffled more comfortably into my seat for the long haul.

3 hours and 50 minutes later from Dallas Airport, I landed in Calgary. There was no excitement, no grand welcoming band, not one familiar smile. I walked straight to customs with my carry on and my backpack. The customs line apparently is never a short one. As I waited the familiar sensation of sweat trickled down my back and smeared my palms, I was confused. Canada was supposed to be colder?

It was finally my turn.

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The first thing the officer noticed was my missing luggage. My nerves had such a strong grip on me that I completely forgot to grab my luggage from that machine that goes around and around (*baggage carousel). A wave of paranoia and embarrassment washed over me I turned and I could see the stares, more like glares from the other people. I could feel the eyes of every security looking at me. At some point, I thought to myself, girl this is it we are going to jail.

Just then a thought rose up and rebuked my fears, “Lily why would they arrest you?” Not depending on my fear as a crutch, I got over those thoughts in 2.4 seconds and regained confidence.

I had hours to wait to get my student visa and my newly formed confidence dwindled a bit.

I realized it was not easy to deal with this on my own; especially when I have never done anything like that. I mumbled silent prayers in the hopes that my parents would materialize on spot and handle this situation while the other just held me. So yes after quite a number of hours, the shame of admitting I still need my mom and dad is no longer relevant.

40 minutes later, and a couple more pep talks, I got a smile from the officer and received my student visa. I was going to be okay! Finally freed from my worries a breath of fresh air came over me. This was the start to my journey as a Canadian university student and I survived. Not everyone will agree to the superhero skills that were necessary and it’s ok if you don’t want to call me wonder woman.

But excuse me while I grab my cape...

L ILY R A M IR E Z

E M BA R R AS SI NG STOR I E S : W H E N I DE C I DE D TO B E A DA NC E R My grade 9 year I chose Dance Class as one of my electives; not because I am a great dancer, but because of my best friend who wanted us to be in as many classes together as possible. I thought it would be a great opportunity for me to learn, and a place where I could gain a little bit of confidence when it came to dancing. I was wrong.

At my junior high every year for the Christmas Concert, the grade nine class does a performance for everyone—parents, teachers, faculty, students, siblings, everyone. However, I was confident enough to be hidden in the background until our teacher decided that she wanted five people to do a solo.

Of course, my best friend jumped to the idea and signed herself and I up. I didn’t object because I wanted to experience something new Again, I was wrong.

Every day for the next two weeks during our lunch period, me and four other students practiced with our dance teacher who choreographed the routine. We were dancing to ‘Get Up’ by Ciara featuring Chamillionaire. Our solo was supposed to last for the duration of Chamillionaire’s part which for about 45 seconds. Every practice21 I grew more andStories more comfortable with the routine, “I got this,” I Embarrassing -Shenda Chimwaso would tell myself.

Two weeks later, the day comes. It’s our Christmas Concert. I am ready. I am pumped. I am scared.

Oh yeah, did I mention that I have stage fright? Well, I do. It’s our time to go on stage and perform.

My palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy; there’s vomit on my sweater, mom’s spaghetti. Just kidding…back to the story.

My palms are sweaty; my knees are growing weak, my heart palpitations are increasing rapidly, I feel the butterflies in my stomach flapping their wings, faster and faster. We start walking on to the stage; we take our place, and the music begins. We start dancing. I am doing well because there are many of us and I am hidden in the blackness of the background, “You got this,” I lied to myself.

It was time for the solo. I quickly try to make my way to the front of the stage but I take a little longer than usual, because of the number of people in front of me. By the time I join the other 4, they have already started dancing to the solo. I am now at the front-center stage a beat or two late in front of everyone. The light is shining on me, and of course this causes my stage fright to hit.

I blacked out…or wiped that moment out of my memory bank.

I don’t remember what happened next, all I know is that I was off beat, forgot some of the dance moves, and had no rhythm. When the solo ended, I ran off stage to hide from my embarrassment. I didn’t go to my friends because most of them are good dancers and I knew they would roast me. I hid from everyone and I am still hiding to this day.

Shenda Chimwaso

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WHAT’S COOK’N WITH FINE CHINA 22

A Night to Remember:

The Blue Plate Diner (Downtown) Edmonton I’m going to set the mood. I am currently sitting on my bed in a hotel room, typing away while music plays in the background. My feet are throbbing and I am hungry. This pain I have fully accepted as the consequence of wearing heels all day. This was my “attempting to be cute” to finesse a nice Christian man at Break-forth. Unfortunately, my feet are currently hurting in vain but I have no regrets, any day in slay is not a day wasted! However, the hunger, I refuse to provide an excuse for. We had set out for dinner after a day of workshops, seminars and sermons. After walking for what seems like a thousand years we arrived at a tiny hidden restaurant.

Upon entering the quaint, picturesque restaurant I couldn’t help but notice the look of horror on the waiters’ faces. I mean I would be terrified too if a group of 25 ravenous humans and 1 beautiful goddess (I wonder who?) walked in and took up half of my restaurant.

We were seated almost immediately and instantly turned the silent atmosphere into one of youthful exuberance and merriment. The waiter made his way over and attempted the task of taking our various drink orders. Little did he know, the women seated at the table had a few questions for him as well. We were able to gather his name -Evan, his age- twenty-years old. In keeping with the cultural melting pot that is Edmonton, Evan, we found out was of French and polish decent all this information before our main courses made it on his notepad. Other highlights of the night included light laughter, of course teasing and, oh yeah….one of our friends forgot her EPI pen. She suffers from a deathly peanut allergy, but she forgot it back at the hotel. Sounds like a promising night right? Nope. Sorry to crush your expectations guys but, it was quite the opposite. Ouch! I know that sounds harsh but aside for the great service from our cute French waiter, there is not much reason to return solo to eat there.

The menu was endless like a bottomless pit and by bottomless I mean a shallow puddle (don’t believe me? Look at the menu http://www.blueplatediner.ca).

On the menu I only found one item that would suit my taste (the roasted half chicken) and to my dismay they ran out of chicken as soon as I placed my order. Devastated I was left to choose among macaroni & cheese, smoked salmon, burgers or duck wings & other irrelevant menu items to choose from. I choose none. However, our waiter Evan, worked with me and created a custom meal for me. Sadly, not even his charm could compensate for the dry and tasteless chicken breast that made its way unto my plate. The mash potato and sweet potato fries (which were actually pretty good!) served as life saver for me from my allergy to season-less food. To add to this positive experience, the food was as cheap as a scholarship-less tuition.

On the bright side, this restaurant is a vegetarian/ vegan’s dream. As you will see on the menu, there is a wide variety of vegetarian/vegan options. This review is totally based on my experience therefore tastebuds may vary. I’ll say this though, any meal spent with friends and a free meal at that, is a meal worth eating. Thus, despite my dislike of the meal, I really enjoyed the experience.

Tc h i a n a Au g u s t i n

FIST BUMPS WITH JESUS /

ANGELICA CORNEJO In Prayer Room the past few weeks we have been reading the book of Proverbs. (If you don’t know what prayer room is, it’s a small worship that happens at from 12:30 pm to 1: pm in the LVH Chatterbox every Monday to Friday). If you’ve never come to Prayer Room you should definitely come check it out and if you have, then you’ll definitely know what I’m talking about when I say it’s a blessing. Anyways, putting that little ad aside, we have covered various topics about everything you can think of like music, relationships, LGBTQ movement, Trump’s Presidency, and many more. The latest topic has been adultery. I know what you must be thinking, “why adultery?” Well, Proverbs actually talks quite a lot about adultery and being “lured in” by a seductress woman. This book also talks an immense amount about wisdom and how to obtain it. In conclusion, we found that all this talk about adultery can be applied to our lives today even if we’re not married.

Here are the 5 lessons that can be learned from the book of Proverbs.

1. Where are you Walking?

Gravel, dirt, cement, straight, winding. All roads lead to a destination. So where are you going? Where are you walking? In a deeper sense, are the choices you are making talking you to a place where you aspire to be or are you walking towards a destination with bad results?

2. Who is That Woman?

Everyone has a weakness. For some its chocolate, for others like me you may be an impulsive shopper.

Some fall for money, sex, or addictions. Whatever that weakness might be we all know weaknesses are usually not a good thing. Many of us choose to take the road that leads us or tempts us to walk past the home of temptation. So ask yourself, what is that thing that tempts you? Are you putting yourself in a position to fall?

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3. Have you Entered Her Home?

Proverbs 7 talks about a seductress woman approaching a man walking in the wrong side of town and basically woos him into sleeping with her. One of his mistakes was agreeing to enter her home. In comparison, have you fallen into that weakness and find yourself dwelling with it? Has your weakness, temptation, or pet sin wedged yourself between you and God? If the answer to any of these questions is yes, it is never too late to leave and to restore God onto the throne of your heart.

4. Seek for Wisdom Daily No matter what circumstance you find yourself in, it is wise to seek wisdom daily. And when I say wisdom I mean instruction from our life manual, the Bible.

Whether it’s a whole chapter or one verse, seeking God’s guidance in everything is a smart thing to do.

5. A Good Name is Better than Great Riches Think about it … when you leaver Burman University, do you think people will have good or bad things to say about you? A good reputation is valuable but can be easily stained by making lousy choices. What do you want to leave behind?

Although there are many more lessons to be learned, these were just a few. I encourage you to read the book of Proverbs and see what life lessons you can find.

Here to encourage you, Angelica

T H E D AY T H E B O A T ALMOST SANK

The wind was furiously tangling my hair as we skimmed across the sapphire waters of the lagoon. Majuro faded behind us. The boat couldn’t go right to the beach because of the reef, so we loaded our bags into a dingy, put on our flippers and leaped over the side, splashing into an underwater world that, quite seriously, rivaled Disney’s Atlantica. We spent all day on the beach of Calalin, building sand castles, laying in the hammock, drinking coconuts, and getting atrociously sunburned. We dove into the ocean and explored the reef, swimming over the edge into the shark-infested waters (just kidding) and floating above schools of parrot fish, angel fish and little Nemo’s. When the sun began to fall into the ocean, we loaded our bags into the dingy, swam out to the boat and climbed into the bow to ride back to the school.

I didn’t have a care in the world; I stretched across the bow, with one foot and one hand trailing in the water. Flying fish exploded from the sea in front of us, riding the wave we created. The other Student Missionaries and I were singing as loud as we possibly could. Quite suddenly, the boat slowed down and came to a stop. We were nowhere near Majuro and the closest island was a good half-hour swim away. The pilot informed us that sea water was beginning to spew from the engine. They opened the guts of the boat and began calling for tools and towels. We were a crowd, including three children under the age of six, floating on the lagoon, watching the sun drop down the sky and listening to the mechanical discussion. I wasn’t worried; we were sitting low in the water and the engine was flooded,

but the owner of the boat was unaffected by this apparent disaster. The resident missionaries weren’t panicking, so we just chatted amongst ourselves and tried to warm up in the evening air. Ten, fifteen, then twenty minutes passed. The engine discourse was progressively less calm.

There was still water in the mechanisms and the salt was causing a problem. I began to formulate a plan in which we placed the children and our most valuable possessions into the dingy and then swam to the island for the night, where we would build a fire, harvest coconuts and perhaps catch some reef fish. Just as my inner heroism was building into an inspirational speech, the boat sputtered back to life and surged forward. The water glided past again and the wind peeled my wet hair off my face. Majuro approached and we limped into the port just as the sun began to set.

Ok, so maybe the boat didn’t really come close to sinking, but we were stuck in the middle of the lagoon with a dysfunctional motor. Going on Missions is a vast adventure and that adventure is open to everyone.

Cheyanne We l c h

Missions Director, who went as a Student Missionary to Majuro from 2015-2016

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Art: A Religion

Z A HA R A MCGANN

As an Education major with a minor in art, I like many students on Burman’s campus have had the opportunity to be able to take a course with the creative visionary, Professor Hoyt. Within many of my classes I enjoyed his teaching methods that included all forms of creative input within classwork.

Not only learning about my own art styles and their backgrounds but also my peers’ influences as well.

Dr. Hoyt is more than just a “well- rounded” professor though, having a master’s degree in studio art, and public health as well as a PhD is Secondary Education. As a long-term professor at Burman, he has dedicated his time to inspiring his students, and I wanted to get to know a little more about who and what in turn had inspired him.

What sparked your passion for art?

I would say: it begins with travel in Europe (with my sister and parents) as a teenager: we spent a year driving around Europe, this included art lessons (in England and Spain in particular), visiting art museums, etc.

What artists have inspired you? Are there various pieces that have left a mark on you?

I will just name one that has been a particular focus: The Isenheim Altarpiece, by Matthias Grünewald.

This particular (large/complex) painting from the early 1500s has been a source of inspiration for years . . . I did some reading and was surprised how many other artists it has influenced. A couple of years ago I made a trip to Eastern France (near the German border) so my travelling companions and I could actually see it.

How do you begin a piece, what has inspired you?

I have settled into a pattern by now. Since I do a lot of digital work, I tend to keep extensive files of work in progress. So usually I either have something I am actively working on or if I feel blocked I start going through things in files looking for over-looked ideas. (I am in fact doing this sort of thing "as we speak" - I have a digital sketch I have been working on all morning.)

What media do you prefer using? Why? I get all my creative ideas from working in digital media (DAZ Studio, Photoshop, etc.). I like to “chill out” by listening to music/news and painting in a very traditionalist way (oil on canvas) in the studio.

As a professor what do you enjoy your students learning?

Since I like the visual arts, I really do like seeing students get enthusiastic about things they are making, especially when I was able to them with some technical aspect (of clay, oil paint, etc.).

What advice do you have for budding artists?

Since I also work in education, I usually tell students (if they ask) that it will be extremely helpful to be versatile. For example: can you teach things other than art or music? Being able to teach things like French, English, etc. has helped me immensely over the years.

Learning from Dr. Hoyt I’ve come to understand that works of art are an unspoken form of the liberation. By allowing many of us to delve into our creativity he allows his students to express themselves and show their own form of creation. He opened my eyes to the fact that art can be more than just a class and in turn become a lifestyle. Looking through my own work, I’ve found various sketches and paintings that like his inspiration mirror renaissance style pieces with the mixture of the hallowedness of religion and the secularity of art.

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h t t p s : / / w w w. g o o g l e . c a / search?q=Isenheim+Altarpiece&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjIw4K5oenRAhVIy2MKHZ4PA08Q_AUICCgB&biw=741&bih=637#imgrc=mw0punuOoK1olM%3A

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TRENDING NOW FASHION

circa 2011

I am not here to tell you what to wear to make the ladies/men fall to your feet and I can’t tell you what to buy to make everybody jealous. The reason for this is that we will never catch up if we are always chasing the newest trends, it’s a race that can’t be won. In fact, the definition of trend is, “a general direction in which something is developing or changing”. It says it right there, “developing or changing”, when fashion is always changing that means that our trendy clothes aren’t going to be trendy in the next few days. I speak this from experience.

When I was in grade 8 I bought myself a pair of TOMS when they were on the upward trend. I thought they were perfect, a stylish, comfy, simple shoe that you could just slip on. To make things even better, when you buy a pair of TOMS a pair goes to a child in need of a pair of shoes. So, I went out and bought myself a fresh pair of black TOMS, you can never go wrong with black. Next thing you know I’m stepping on the bus to school with my skinny jeans and black TOMS ready to make my friends jealous. However, the demise in my ambition to set the TOMS trend was the fact that they were unisex. Don’t get me wrong, there isn’t anything wrong with unisex clothing, but when you are 14 years old trying to find where you fit in, things are a bit different. I was prepared for the fact that some girls might have toms as well, but they came in different colours, no worries. What I wasn’t prepared for were the three girls in my class that got the exact same black TOMS as me. You can guess that I wore my TOMS a lot less to school after that. The trend had changed.

In the wake of trends, I encourage you to find what suits you and what makes you happy when you put it on, whether Kim and Kanye are wearing it or not.

Find clothes that reflect you and your interests. If someone else is wearing it, that’s fine, that just says that you have a similar taste and probably share some other interests. When I see someone else dressed like me, that tells me that they probably are into some other things that I enjoy and we’d likely get along. The reality is that trends start somewhere, and who’s to say that you can’t be the one to start the next one.

circa 2017

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I see trends as waves. There are three ways to go about them; you can either start a wave, catch a wave, or miss a wave. I’m happy to tell you that there is nothing wrong with any of the options. Making waves takes guts and can attract many forms of attention, catching them gets you some sweet nods of approval, and missing one just means you’re riding a different wave. I want to encourage you to find the style makes you happy and confident in you.

Regan Zap

BEFOR E S OM ETH I NG , THERE WAS EV E RY T H ING :

A SHORT ST ORY A B OUT A LONG TIME

Stepping out of a tan, mud building, the woman still laying on the large woven mat, linen as easy as the morning light upon her body, the priest, the king, the whatever they wanted to call him, he moves out beyond the lingering shadows to soak in the first sprinkling of sunshine. This is the first night before the first coming out, revealing, reviling, repressing. He was the emperor of the emphatic but pervayor of the perturbing too.

Like the small, sturdy stalks of the sunflower in the front garden patch delicately twisting with imperceptible movement of their inormous heads towards the life giving light, he turns his taunt frame back towards the open doorway where darkness welcomes its daily guest of malignant radiation. How could he, he wonders, fulfill the inner stirrings of his soul, his imagination always falters at this point when he reaches out of the genocidal deliberations and uncouth massacring of said past holy men. Before all that what was there? Their tales say a barren, rocky sphere meandering around a volanic star, circled by other bodies of space became an agricultural project for a giant meglomaniac. Collision having occurred perhaps, the flint of life already sparked, a world impregnated with the seed of infantile potential. Before the armies, before the marches, the walls built, the walls destroyed, there were people, and life. He sitting on the low wicker stool, underside prickled by the rough edges of its long use, could remark that what they had all followed up to now (thinking this quietly to himself) was the same path with different shoes, or in different cadence or gate, different someway. The scrolls were rolls of paper, the same paper you send a letter on or wipe your posterior, why should the urgency demand such foolishness. Why was there urgency? He seems to want more than sandals and sex and understand of sacred write and insight into this culture and suffering past and to come. His warm body pines for the absence of himself, he could know exactly how to end his life this day, indirectly albeit but still his utterances would propel his demise with breath-taking rapidity.

Despite knowing the formula to cut his life off he has not the slightest notion on how to live it. Slightest being hyperbole, it is rather a feeling, a sentiment; he has read and memorized every nuance of the written plot, these only soak his misgivings in further depressive liquid dissatisfaction. Yes, the grin these thoughts brings him startle him, quickly the mirth morphs into manipulative pejoratives. Yes before these "hallowed" words on "sacral" paper there was humanity. Deeper still there was life.

And even further into life there was, there was, there was what?

No and yes and maybe, there was everything until there was something. He wills himself to kneel on the hard, cracked dirt floor of the room and dives with expert penitence the linen covering to where life is waking up, to where hope is smiling in cool pleasure and passion.

Before the rules, the temples, the councils, the commandments there was this- love. God is love, another highwayman would record later, to be read over and over again by pilgrim and sage and hungry vagabond; rejected and abused, however, as many or more times as its oral proclamation to the masses. This realization brings his muscular, moving body to a slowing pause and she opens, just slightly, tender moist lips. Eyes fluttering in that unadultered joy of passing from dream to sleep, that regularly experience existential peak of leaving restful bliss. As her hand caresses and cajole him, he knows that rules make weak children yet love made beautiful and strong offspring, uncanny, unplanned, very much cherished and precious. These children are not royalty or born endowed with unearned funding, but the tough, almost murderous, committed, caring, and characteristically rebellious, metaphorically his children his powerful, maligned, and symbolic losers ready to break molds and tread the clouds among the heights of life-giving journeys. When he would take a final breath, he hopes the city, the nation, even the whole earth would not give a second thought to his passing. Only, he longs for inwardly, that the aftertaste of the immaculate conceptual shaking would be the sweetness of a lover's tongue and the bitterness of an enemies’ bite. The sweetness in releasing belligerent, barbaric arrogance of the "religious" leadership and the bitterness of laying vulnerable one's self amongst a party of assassins. He resumes his attention to his increasing hardness and the indulgent, random teasing of her graceful movements. The gentle groaning from her majestic throat mingle with the songs of morning birds and the soft voices of early morning workers headed to various industries of employment. What makes this little picture frame in history so compelling as it is? What is there to be written that is not about god and its people and its evanescence existence? Finally, breaking the spell of the intertwining minutes, somewhat rudely but easily brushed aside, two men who seem not prepared for the hot, sticky weather descending that morning after several weeks of thick, cooling rain, ask for Jesus, addressing the tender maiden, robe gilded upon ivory smooth shoulders, combing her hair. Yes, she remarks, around the corner stoking the cooking fire. Yes, he thinks to himself, looking at this ragtag couple, quietly staring at his ritual breakfast work. Be not disguised, friends, companions, disciples, before the scriptures, there were scrolls, before scrolls there were stories, before stories there was humanity, two people or an orgy of repopulators. Dust to dust, the water pouring over his brown caked toes and heel. Dressing into his granular linen robe and murky dull maroon sash and cloak, slowing chewy the soft, doughy breakfast bread, he joins the two, actors stepping onto their stage, the bustling street, blessing a kiss onto the serene figure of her, shapely manifesting her body to the increasing heat of the day. Revealing in what the present holds under its mysteries, they push their walk into the moving mass of under-privileged survivors, meek children, and pretentious diplomats. Christ, out of the house, the night's memory soaking into his subconscious, his feet festering into another romantic adventure with life, liberty, and licensure that none could have fathomed and few would truly embrace as he intends.

Eric Anderson

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The halls did not quiet as she walked down, in fact no one even seemed to notice her presence. She was less than a phantom despite her burnt orange afro puffs, pink contacts, and hexagon 80’s glasses. Her locker was to the left of the wide paste-painted hallway. Taking out a navy-blue duo tang which read “Math” and “Annabelle,” she rushed quickly to her classroom and took her seat while the other students piled in laughing loudly. Last to enter the room was the teacher. Mr. Lenard was his name, and he wrote the topic of the day on the board. Chatter of students began to lower. Mr. Lenard faced the now quiet classroom. Despite the topic written on the board he explained that they would be learning trigonometry, and for the first part of the assignments the students needed to find a group of two or three. All of the students paired themselves together leaving Annabelle without a partner. Mr. Lenard asked if everyone had found a group. Annebelle raised her hand and the teacher assigned her to two giggling girls in the back corner of the room. Both girls already had an idea of how they wanted to approach the assignment, and with the exception of a few helpful suggestions, Annebelle was unable to make herself heard in the group. Even so, she did not get upset. The ideas the girls had were quite good, and their presentation was well received by the class.

Period 3 ended. On the way out she accidently bumped a group of boys promptly apologizing for the incident. As she walked away, they chuckled in addition to the perplexed words “Who is that girl?” “Never seen her before” faintly heard over the hum of students. Lunch time came, the cafeteria filled up with students looking for a quick meal. All of the seats were taken. Various cliques gathered together each seemingly had a place and each student in the group acted as one. Yet at the front of the room stood Annebelle, heating her food in the microwave by herself. The timer went off. Smiling, Annebelle made her way to the stairwell, the smell of oxtail left over from last night’s dinner lingered through the narrow corridors behind her. She pulled out an iPod and her Bible from her backpack, then flipped to her favourite book and chapter. Even though she was alone, she never truly felt alone.

After all, what did it mean to be alone when the God of the universe knew her name?

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Ambra Greaves

Ron Marshall

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