An inward confession that leads to humility.

Turning my eyes carefully upon myself and watching the course of my inward state, I have verified by experience that I do not love God, that I have no religious belief, and that I am filled with pride and sensuality. All this I actually find in myself as a result of detailed examination of my feelings and conduct, thus:

1. I do not love God. For if I loved God I should be continually thinking about Him with heartfelt joy. Every thought of God would give me gladness and delight. On the contrary, I much more often and much more eagerly think about earthly things, and thinking about God is labor and dryness. If I loved God, then talking with Him in prayer would be my nourishment and delight and would draw me to unbroken communion with Him. But, on the contrary, I not only find no delight in prayer, but even find it an effort. I struggle with reluctance, I am enfeebled by sloth, and am ready to occupy myself eagerly with any unimportant trifle, if only it shortens prayer and keeps me from it. My time slips away unnoticed in futile occupations, but when I am occupied with God, when I put myself into His presence every hour seems like a year. If one person loves another, he thinks of him throughout the day without ceasing, he pictures him to himself, he cares for him, and in all circumstances his beloved friend is never out of his thoughts. But I, throughout the day, scarcely set aside even a single hour in which to sink deep down into meditation upon God, to inflame my heart with love of Him, while I eagerly give up twenty-three hours as fervent offerings to the idols of my passions. I am forward in talk about frivolous matters and things which degrade the spirit; that gives me pleasure. But in the consideration of God I am dry, bored and lazy. Even if I am unwillingly drawn by others into spiritual conversation, I try to shift the subject quickly to one which pleases my desires. I am tirelessly curious about novelties, about civic affairs and political events; I eagerly seek the satisfaction of my love of knowledge in science and art, and in ways of getting things I want to possess. But the study of the Law of God, the knowledge of God and of religion, make little impression on me, and satisfy no hunger of my soul. I regard these things not only as a non-essential occupation for a Christian, but in a casual way as a sort of side-issue with which I should perhaps occupy my spare time, at odd moments. To put it shortly, if love for God is recognized by the keeping of His commandments (If ye love Me, keep My commandments, says our Lord Jesus Christ), and I not only do not keep them, but even make little attempt to do so, then in absolute truth the conclusion follows that I do not love God. That is what Basil the Great says: 'The proof that a man does not love God and His Christ lies in the fact that he does not keep His commandments'.

2. I do not love my neighbor either. For not only am I unable to make up my mind to lay down my life for his sake (according to the Gospel), but I do not even sacrifice my happiness, well-being and peace for the good of my neighbor. If I did love him as myself, as the Gospel bids, his misfortunes would distress me also, his happiness would bring delight to me too. But, on the contrary, I listen to curious, unhappy stories about my neighbor and I am not distressed; I remain quite undisturbed or what is still worse, I find a sort of pleasure in them. Bad conduct on the part of my brother I do not cover up with love, but proclaim abroad with ensure. His well-being, honor and happiness do not delight me as my own, and, as if they were something quite alien to me, give me no feeling of gladness. What is more, they subtly arouse in me feelings of envy or contempt.

3. I have no religious belief. Neither in immortality nor in the Gospel. If I were firmly persuaded and believed without doubt that beyond the grave lies eternal life and recompense for the deeds of this life, I should be continually thinking of this. The very idea of immortality would terrify me and I should lead this life as a foreigner who gets ready to enter his native land. On the contrary, I do not even think about eternity, and I regard the end of this earthly life as the limit of my existence. The secret thought nestles within me: Who knows what happens at death? If I say I believe in immortality, then I am speaking about my mind only, and my heart is far removed from a firm conviction about it. That is openly witnessed to by my conduct and my constant care to satisfy the life of the senses. Were the Holy Gospel taken into my heart in faith, as the Word of God, I should be continually occupied with it, I should study it, find delight in it and with deep devotion fix my attention upon it. Wisdom, mercy, love, are hidden in it; it would lead me to happiness, I should find gladness in the study of the Law of God day and night. In it I should find nourishment like my daily bread and my heart would be drawn to the keeping of its laws. Nothing on earth would be strong enough to turn me away from it. On the contrary, if now and again I read or hear the Word of God, yet even so it is only from necessity or from a general love of knowledge, and approaching it without any very close attention, I find it dull and uninteresting. I usually come to the end of the reading without any profit, only too ready to change over to secular reading in which I take more pleasure and find new and interesting subjects.

4. I am full of pride and sensual self-love. All my actions confirm this. Seeing something good in myself, I want to bring it into view, or to pride myself upon it before other people or inwardly to admire myself for it. Although I display an outward humility, yet I ascribe it all to my own strength and regard myself as superior to others, or at least no worse than they. If I notice a fault in myself, I try to excuse it, I cover it up by saying, 'I am made like that' or 'I am not to blame'. I get angry with those who do not treat me with respect and consider them unable to appreciate the value of people. I brag about my gifts: my failures in any undertaking I regard as a personal insult. I murmur, and I find pleasure in the unhappiness of my enemies. If I strive after anything good it is for the purpose of winning praise, or spiritual self-indulgence, or earthly consolation. In a word, I continually make an idol of myself and render it uninterrupted service, seeking in all things the pleasures of the senses, and nourishment for my sensual passions and lusts.

Going over all this I see myself as proud, adulterous, unbelieving, without love to God and hating my neighbor. What state could be more sinful? The condition of the spirits of darkness is better than mine. They, although they do not love God, hate men, and live upon pride, yet at least believe and tremble. But I? Can there be a doom more terrible than that which faces me, and what sentence of punishment will be more sever than that upon the careless and foolish life that I recognize in myself?

-- Excerpt from The Way of the Pigrim; the Pigrim continues on his way.

Every word resonates with who I am. Without realizing it, the author of this confession wrote on the state of my heart, not his. God have mercy.

Be still and know that I am God

Jung recounts a story of a clergyman who had been working fourteen hours a day and was suffering from emotional exhaustion. Jung’s advice was that he should work eight hours a day, then go home and spend the evening alone in his study. The clergyman agreed to follow Jung’s advice precisely. He worked eight hours, and then went home and to his study, where he played some Chopin and read a novel by Hesse. The following day he read Thomas Mann and played Mozart. On the third day he went to see Jung and complained that he was no better. “But you didn’t understand,” Jung replied, on hearing his account. “I didn’t want you with Hermann Hesse or Thomas Mann or even Mozart or Chopin. I wanted you to be all alone with yourself.” “Oh but I can’t think of any worse company,” answered the clergyman. Jung replied, “And yet this is the self you inflict on other people fourteen hours a day.”

– Experiencing God by Kenneth Leech

As I noted in my previous entry, I am entirely unworthy to make any commentary on this story as undoubtably my sin will tarnish it. Yet, the paradox continues to beckon me to expound, so I march forward, without justification. I will make my words few.

Psalm 46:10

Be still and know that I am God

This is something I don't believe I have ever striven for. Silence; stillness. Can I even be still for an hour? Half an hour? Ten minutes?

Western Christianity has lost this concept. Where is the stillness? The meditation on God?

Of course, our own company is the worst company. Yet we so easily inflict oursleves on others everyday.

I challenge myself, and my readers to be still. Can we do it?

May God have mercy on all of us.

I am nothing

I am starting up my blog again.

I do this hesitantly and with great reservation. Not because I plan to write particularly controversial subjects, or because I believe them untrue. There has been a common theme among most blogs, notes, and other writings of mine; after I write them, I regret what I wrote.

I write as a sinner, one who is filled with pride and self indulgence. Who am I to speak of the mysteries of God? I am nothing.

At my best attempt to write something good, I only tarnish it with my sin and make it something less than what it was.

Nevertheless, I find myself in a precarious position. God continues to reveal Himself to me; He is teaching me, instructing me, and calling me to something better. I find that I become overwhelmed by the concepts, and exhortations. I must proccess them one at a time and my hope is that this blog will aid me in doing just that.

Before I proceed I ask the reader to forgive me for anything I have written in the past and for anything I write here in this blog. Please, pray for me.

5 reasons why I smoke

Me on any given afternoon

Some of you readers may be taken aback by my strange title. Most of you probably saw the title, and then the picture, and left it at that, leaving to your daily errands with an image of Steven the chain cigarette smoker burned into your mind, while others of you may be wondering what I mean, since you should all know me well enough to know that I would voluntarily shovel the feces of an overweight mongoose before puffing on a lit cigarette willingly. There may be a small few of you already know that I'm not actually talking about cigarettes.

Fat mongooses look a lot like Spiderman

I'm referring to pipe smoking.

1. It's classy

Seriously, do I need to explain this any further? Pipe smoking is frequently attributed to classy, intelligent men and women. This isn't just a social stereotype either. Mark Twain, C.S. Lewis, Albert Einstein, Ralph Waldo Emerson,  Sigmund Freud, and Dr, Seuss are just some of the incredible men who smoked pipe in addition to all of their achievements.  There is really nothing classier than sitting down in a plush chair in from of the fire place, reading some of your favorite literature and lighting up a perfectly crafted blend of English tobacco.

My bud Gandalf smoking on his pipe with me yesterday

2. It's cheap

Pipe tobacco--nay, good quality pipe tobacco is cheap. Not just cheap, very cheap! For two ounces of quality tobacco it might put the purchaser back about $7. Two ounces may not sound like much to the lay man, but at the rate tobacco burns, it will last for about 25 smokes (depending on the size of your bowl.

This may not mean much to some, but let's compare that to other common habits.

A cup of coffee at Starbucks costs around $4, and it serves for only one use. Two cups, and you've paid more than you would for 12 times the amount of enjoyment from a pipe

A pack of quality cigarettes goes for about $7, getting  one 20 cigarettes, which burn much faster than a bowl of pipe tobacco. 

Do you want to compare ice cream? Chocolate? Hot tea? They all come to a higher price than the sweet and full scented tobacco leaf.

3. It's not addictive

Well, not any more than anything can be, as psychological addictions are not substance based.

"Now hold your horses, cancer lover!" you exclaim as you proceed with incite from your in-depth tobacco knowledge, "Pipe tobacco has traces of natural nicotine, and nicotine is addictive!"

While I do concede that pipe tobacco does contain natural nicotine (natural emphasized because it is very different than the artificially induced nicotine in cigarettes). Pipe smoking is an art in and of itself;  one is not supposed to inhale any of the smoke, but enjoy the flavor, then allow it to freely leave your mouth, billowing out as it fills the air with its sweet aroma. This way, only small amounts of the already minimal amount of nicotine is ingested through your mouth.

If one used his pipe incorrectly, in mass quantities he may find himself addicted, but this is the case for many common household items, like Listerine.  Many common items used every day have addictive properties and chemicals in them. When used correctly, pipe tobacco is not used to feed an addiction, or to calm down after a stressful day, but as an activity to relax, and enjoy with.

WHO HID MY @$%#^& LISTERINE?!

4.  It tastes good

It's that simple; pipe tobacco tastes good. It's not even something specific to just the preferences of select few; there are hundreds, if not thousands of flavors, both from natural blends, and others from artificial flavors. Some tobacco favors I can't stand, but with any one that I abhor, I can find five that send my palate on a flavorful adventure. We consume so many other things based simply off of flavor, it's a wonder why more people don't enjoy the unique variety that pipe tobacco offers.

5. It sets up for meaningful, uplifting conversation

While it is understood that meaningful conversations can happen under any circumstances, it is a universal truth that certain props, or scenarios set these conversations up, to be accessed in an easy fashion.

Just as one sets up a romantic environment for a proposal, so to can we set up our environment for worthwhile conversation. I hope we are all familiar with some of these environments: Staying awake late at night with a friend while the rest of the house sleeps, a fresh cup of (expensive) coffee at your local coffee shop with your special other, even a text message conversation when your feeling down. All these are environments set up for quality time with another that you will never forget. 

Maybe after dinner, you could come over to my place. We can both put some smoldering leaves of a tobacco plant, which have been professionally blended together and stick them into a small bowl at the end of a hallowed out stick and smoke them. If you know what I mean.

Out of all these situations, I have never experienced one as effective as smoking a pipe on a late summer afternoon, overlooking a beautiful view with some of my best friends. The conversations, encouragement, and aura of the whole experience is something I will never forget, and look forward in experiencing again soon.

But please, don't take my word for it. Go out get a pipe, and enjoy the wonderful flavor, convenience and pleasure you can find in something as simple as the smoldering of leaves.