Didasko: Rushing and Resting

I might have gone overkill on researching the Holy Spirit... though I can't actually regret spending that level of investigation and contemplation on this most important subject and Person.

"Overkill," because I'm not the one teaching this next Revival/Worship night, Caleb is. He and I dedicated a Kuppa Joy hangout to discussing his message, and my prior study certainly helped me to both give and receive assurance that we are stewarding God's word. However, what began as an exhaustive vision for explaining the Spirit has since been trimmed to a brief (but diverse) survey of Bible verses and encouragement-challenge to our church family to walk in His power.

Good stuff - more prudent in light of that venue and how people learn - yet something about that change and tonight's peculiar sleeplessness is now compelling me to communicate and reflect the knowledge I stored up.

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I did a word search of the word "spirit" in the ESV, examining all the passages with a capital S (or hints that it could be an upper case instance).

First, I was surprised by how active and unpredictable role He played throughout the Old Testament-- resting over chaotic waters at the dawn of creation, redirecting a pagan's mouth of curses into the praise-filled pronouncement of Israel's future ruler, and rushing in strength and strategy upon unlikely heroes who were either born of or bedding with prostitutes.

Second, I was struck by the divergent depictions of His work flowing into the New Testament. There's that same power of the miraculous occurring in Matthew, Mark, John, and Luke-Acts. Seeing the Spirit moving in thrilling and spontaneous ways, I'm inspired to expand what I consider possible (beyond a strict box of what I deem the Biblical precedent) and boldly spread the gospel. Yet, as the canon continues, these manifestations begin to give way for something else to hold primary importance...

...I'm talking about the chiefly invisible, internal, or even seemingly mundane fruit of the Spirit's labors. Paul makes a few mentions of signs accompanying his message, but in every epistle he emphasizes how the Holy Spirit brings assurance of salvation, knowledge of truth, sanctified lifestyles, unified churches, and boldness unto death. Rather than summoning evangelistic fervor alone, the apostle's letters commission steadfastness in building fellow disciples and walking honorably as temporary citizens of this world.

Now, let me clarify two important things: I'm not at all concluding that miracles have "died out" or even become the exception, nor am I arguing that these contrasting glimpses of the Spirit are contradictory. On the former point, I think we should pray at every opportunity for healings and wonders and guidance, trusting that God will in many cases graciously intervene, both for the sake of the gospel and for His children. Regarding the latter, I hold several speculations for why each work of the Spirit is to be be expected and reconciled-- ranging from how the prophets spoke of regenerated human hearts as salvation's crescendo, to the almost anticlimactic moments of Jesus' resurrection appearances and sudden ascension speaking to our daily grind during His physical absence.

What I do mean by "divergent" is that I've been among Christians who seek the miraculous for its own sake, and construct a very narrow understanding of a believer's life on earth solely from the Book of Acts. They forget that temporal signs are purposed to point to something eternal, supernatural gifts are subordinate to the aspiration of agape love, and a disciple's life in this world is comprised of both incarnation and transfiguration; Good Friday and Easter Sunday; Pentecost and persecution.

I'm trying to learn from my charismatic brothers and sisters-- because the conservative alternative is far too close to complacency and convenience, with its ethereal comfort and convenience of a Christian walk  so eager for accommodating the American lifestyle. I'm going for something in-between and more aware of the overall Biblical context... although I admit I may not be there yet, and there is no formulaic way in ratios and chronological ordering to derive unbiased doctrine.

Simply put, I believe that the Spirit can do what He wants, and still suspect that's a part of why I eventually felt Him tangibly even if that isn't a uniform experience for every believer. I know there is a great dignity and empowering found as He has been poured out upon us, which such an epic span of the Scriptures and modern missions testify to. However, equally real as the mighty rushing is the more gradual effect of His inward resting-- rebel hearts softened into humble instruments, God fully and permanently present among sin-stained men and women, as well as spiritual families knitted and growing together amidst a hostile world... independent of whether you comprehend the infinite power and manifold wisdom of this spectacle you're included in as an integral member.

Manthano: Shepard

Right before the Relient K concert, I completed the main story of Mass Effect. Sadly (but perhaps for the best), I won't be playing either of the game's two sequels... which receive less favorable reviews, and take a very different turn in story, towards an ultimately unsatisfactory ending. Nonetheless, I deeply enjoyed this first game and its lore-rich story... and I kind of need to express all of it in actual writing, lest I waste another early hour in bed as I compose this analysis on mental canvas.

The Universe

Here's the first thing I identified for why I enjoyed Mass Effect so much-- it's set in a galactic world that's almost a sibling to my own fanta-sci universe. Centuries have passed, Earth has discovered physics-bending powers, and now humanity finds itself amidst a cosmopolitan empire built upon the highways of faster than light (FTL) space travel. Yet that empire and the powers it rests upon are not all that they seem...

Actually- the similarities with the Starsoul Saga is not entirely coincidental. Some of my former friends played Mass Effect long before I did, and one day we put together a tabletop RPG which they closely based upon the video game. So I technically encountered the Mass Effect universe indirectly, but had a chance to bring in plenty of personal touches and other inspirations.

Whereas the video game's powers are split between biotic (kinetic force attacks or protective barriers, through a rare mutation of the brain cells plus an amplifier) or tech (hacking androids and making enemy weapons overheat with a holographic iPad/3-D printer/Swiss army knife), my magic concept of "the Gift" adds artistic creativity onto the technological manipulation, and includes other categories of elemental matter and energy along with the biological and spiritual. As for cosmic conflict, Mass Effect's is between synthetic AI and organic life... but for Starsoul Saga, it's about spiritual beings and elitist adherents against the underdogs of the natural world.

The Hero

John Shepard is highly customizable for each player, and in fact his first name can be optionally changed (with all voice acting referring to him [or her!] as Shepard/Commander Shepard). In addition to selecting a personal appearance and combat class, you also have choices for his childhood background (colonist, earthbound, or spacer) and a more recent event which defines his psychological profile (sole survivor, war-hero, or ruthless).

My Shepard has a mixed Asian ethnicity (probably Japanese, who actually show up in a few characters and technology companies), with green eyes and brown hair. He grew up as a colonist of a newly settled planet, but raiders killed everyone he loved, and it was only thanks to a military starship that he escaped. He enlisted as a soldier when he was 18. At the age of 22 during 'shore leave' on another planet, a massive raider fleet attacked and this time he fought back-- rallying a defense among the citizens and then single-handedly holding the line at the last moment before human reinforcements arrived. Similar to my "Pilgrim" class in Skyrim, Shepard is a jack-of-all-trades who sticks to his pistol, employs biotic and tech powers mostly as team support/defense, and gets farther through being a persuasive paragon who others will follow to the gates of hell (I even told the cyborg final boss there was still some part of him longing for redemption, to which he resisted the evil AI's power long enough to shoot himself).

Is it bad that I frequently refer to him as "Francis Chan in space?"

A great spiritual encouragement about this is thinking of myself in the boots of a soldier. I can imagine myself as a wizard, pilgrim, or maybe an adventurous battle-mage... but never before as the military type. Yet in Paul's second letter to Timothy, he writes "Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him" (2:3-4). As a bonus fun fact: the term pagan was first used in Rome with a context of a common civilian (rather than the crude, country-person connotation of it), to contrast with Christians who have a higher citizenship and fight against preying spiritual principalities. So maybe I'm not the standard infantry personality... but if we're talking about enduring dedication and higher purpose in a materialist society where many believers are easily entangled, then I can be a soldier.

The Team

One more thing-- as opposed to the limited dialogue and optional importance of companions in The Elder Scrolls (which I often filled in with my imagination), Mass Effect has a refreshing emphasis upon teamwork and develops every major character through dynamic conversations. There's a cast of both humans and aliens; two of your choice will accompany you each mission, and afterwards you can find them on the lower deck to hear their feedback on your decisions and learn about their past history.

She's....

...CHRRIIIIISSSTITIIIAAAAANNNN1!!!

My thoughts on the romance aspect of this are conflicted; it eventually falls into the typical cliches of film (a romantic night before the big battle) and television (an unfulfilled side-plot stretched over the next two sequels, rather than a natural and beneficial partnership). However, it did begin as something sweet-- a growing friendship, meaningful conversations about interests and family members, and then - following a prudent delay because 'saving the galaxy' and 'you're my commanding officer' - she's the one to reassure and (attempts to) kiss Shepard at his very lowest point after a friend's death and the loss of their superiors trust... being the first of his crew to plead him to keep fighting and follow him even if it means going rogue.

Anyway, all this made me think of community and leadership in general. In The Wizard of Oz fashion, I was vaguely reminded of various friends as I traveled the galaxy. I actually noticed myself becoming better at guiding IRL conversations and being present to encourage my friends because of its importance in Mass Effect. While there is often an advantage to independent initiative and paving the way (I had to find out halfway in the game that crew members always deal 50% less damage than I do, even though I specialized for support and gave them all the damage-dealing abilities), we can't do the works God prepared for us alone... and my own passion regarding missions could certainly have a greater, exponential effect if I pass it on and equip others.

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It was sad when it was over, knowing that I wouldn't continue playing and it wouldn't be worth continuing... but it was good while it lasted. It's the sort of thing where the Lord reminds me - as I've forgotten or never believed most of my life - that real life can actually be that cool with Him, and in that sense I'm just stepping into a more epic universe and honored calling and awesome community.