This post marks a first for A Chicken in a Cage With a Ferret, in that this is the first time I have taken up a co-author, my dear friend Caitlyn. I'm not totally sure how co-authorship is supposed to work. How can two people compose one body of text? Maybe she and I should be sitting together at my computer, and I could type all the letters on the left side of the keyboard, and she could type the ones on the right side. That seems like a very tedious undertaking, however, so I'll let all of you know how this is working. What follows is made up mostly of Caitlyn's ideas, with a few of mine scattered in, while most of the actual words are mine, with some of hers scattered in. Her idea wrapped up in my words. It's like taking a beauty queen and dressing her up in a burlap sack, I'm sure.
Captivated.
That isn't a word I use frequently. In fact, it's a word I rarely hear from guys in general. How often do you hear men at the sports bar yell things like, "Wow, I am completely captivated by that touchdown catch!" No, this is a term relegated more to the female vernacular, as evidenced by the book written by John and Stasi Eldredge called Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul, bearing a cover complete with blue sky, grassy meadow, and unrealistic castle. This idea of captivation lies at the root of little girls' dreams. Women desire to be both captivated and captivating, to fall head over heels for Mr. Right and to be adored as beautiful and pure, to live the plot of a romantic comedy. It's a term that dwells in the realm of Disney princesses.
By all of this, I don't mean that the idea of being captivated is wimpy or fluffy. Obviously, the word "captivate" is related to "captive." To be captivated is, in a sense, to be made captive, and thus, in its popular usage, to be made prisoner to Cupid's twisted schemes. In Ephesians 3:1, Paul writes of being captivated/made captive by something else when he writes, "For this reason, I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for the sake of you Gentiles." Paul was captivated by Christ. His words, thoughts, actions--his entire life--was centered on his Savior. In light of the God who was so captivated by him that he died in his place, Paul has no choice to be be completely entranced by and submissive to Jesus. His aim is that every waking moment be devoted to Christ.
That's what our lives as Christ-followers are meant to look like. As ones in which we are completely captivated by Christ. A problem arises, however, when we allow ourselves to be captivated by lesser things. It happens to us all the time--we see something that looks nice and that promises fulfillment and pleasure, and we become enchanted by it to the point that we lose sight of God. This is what the problem has been from the start really, from the time Eve "saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom" (Gen. 3:6). Influenced by Satan's lies and empty promises, Eve became captivated by the fruit and the thought of becoming like God. Instead of being captivated with God, she became captivated by a false god and led Adam and all mankind into sin and separation from God.
Of course, we can also become captivated by things that are not sinful. In themselves, these lures are innocuous, but they still have the potential to draw our attention and devotion away from Christ. For example, a dedicated Christian may become captivated by the cute blonde that sits in the front row, so they date and she eventually draws him away from the church and chips away at his dedication to Christ. Or an aspiring young go-getter becomes captivated by the thought of making money, so he blows off a life of ministry in favor of the pursuit of wealth. Or an intellectual can become so absorbed in the accumulation of knowledge that she loses sight of what it means to live as a captive of Christ.
We're made to be captivated by Christ. All of these other things that we tend to become captivated by prove to be dry wells. They promise satisfaction and esteem and comfort and fulfillment, but they always fall short; they always disappoint. After writing that God does not tempt anyone to sin, Jesus' brother James writes, "but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death" (Jas. 1:14-15). These captivating sins promise blessing but deliver death, and the seemingly harmless sirens of life do the same by pulling us away from our Creator.
In that same passage, James goes on to write, "Don't be deceived, my dear brothers. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows" (1:16-17). Since these verses are the beginning of a new paragraph in the NIV, it can be easy to miss the connection with what comes before it. Sin promises good things but is unable to make good on that promise. It promises life and bestows death. God, on the other hand, is the giver of good gifts. He has our best interests at heart. While Satan uses sins and distractions to ruin our lives, Christ gives us life in its fullest. So we have a choice. We can be captive to the one who wants to make our lives suck, or to the God who loves us and gave himself for us. In all those romantic comedies I mentioned earlier, the girl has a choice to be with the guy who loves her and honors her, or with the guy who can only offer a life of disappointment and regret (at least that's what I've heard; I haven't wanted very many movies belong to said genre). And all the girls in the audience shed tears of joy when she chooses correctly, so I can only imagine the joy in Christ's eyes we we choose the happy ending.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Praying Better
"And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints. Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should."
-Ephesians 6:18-20.
It's funny how things work together sometimes. Because of an experience I had while in New York last week, I had planned to write a post about prayer today, and at church yesterday morning, the focus was also put on prayer, with the above passage being the text for the sermon. Apparently, this is a thought that God especially wants to drill into my head.
The truth is that I'm a poor pray-er. (I'm also afraid that this post could be terribly confusing in that "prayer" in the sense of "one who prays" looks exactly the same as "prayer" as "a petition made to God." So when I mean the former sense, I'll write it as "pray-er.") But honestly, one of the many failings in my life is that I need to learn to pray better. That phrase "pray better" sounds inappropriate because, after all, aren't all prayers precious? Isn't any prayer a good one? Maybe so, but some prayer lives are weaker than others, and I know that there is a great deal of room to grow in mine, and I know all of us have at least some need for maturation in how we pray. I know that for me, my prayers are far too infrequent, bland, vague, and wishy-washy. When I do pray, my thoughts are bombarded by daydreams and distractions, and I hurry through the whole ordeal so that I can get to something else. Very different from the devotion and focus that the Bible calls us to and that Jesus exemplified.
I was in New York City last week for a class. New York was amazing, and the trip will probably be influencing my next few posts. One of my favorite times of the week was Tuesday evening when our class attended the prayer service at Brooklyn Tabernacle. The pastor at Brooklyn Tabernacle is a guy named Jim Cymbala, who wrote a book called Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire. It's all about how the church grew dramatically because of constant, powerful prayer. Prayer lies at the foundation of Brooklyn Tabernacle; it's its lifeblood and fuel. Walking into the building, the most noticeable feature was that almost the entire congregation was black. In part because of that culture, and in part because of other factors, the way the people prayed was a little different than what I was used to. None of it was done in a way that attracted attention to the pray-ers, nor was it chaotic. But people were crying out to God in ways that are not often seen in churches I have been to, and it was both refreshing and challenging. There was an especially powerful time of prayer because Tuesday was the day of the earthquake the devastated Haiti, and they had all of the people at Brooklyn Tabernacle from that nation go up on stage and the entire church prayed for that situation.
While it's unfortunate to say, many church in America come nowhere close to the dedication to prayer present at Brooklyn Tabernacle. In many churches, prayer functions as a time of transition between segments of the service than it does as a dynamic means of communication with God. We use it as a means to let the worship band get to their instruments while congregants have their eyes closed, or we use it to recap the three main points of our sermon before the invitation hymn. At Brooklyn Tabernacle, however, it's at the center. They have awareness of needs both in the world and among themselves, and they pray faithfully, truly believing that God is able and willing to reach into the world and make existence better, to allow his kingdom to be come. Their prayers are rich, not because they use King James-y language or lift up their hands, but because they pray heartfelt, earnest, urgent prayers. Conversely, in our prayers, both individually and corporately, we use a lot of words to say very little. I spend time in prayer and later think, "Man, I don't really even feel like I prayed for anything."
Although done differently than Brooklyn Tabernacle, we had a pretty great prayer experience at Carterville yesterday. As I mentioned, the topic for the day was prayer, and throughout the worship service, times of prayer were mixed in among the songs. So we would sing a song, and one of the leaders would say a few things, and then we would spend time in prayer for things like Haiti or families or how God can use us. Prayer was intertwined with the rest of the service. And I think that's sort of how prayer should work its way into our lives. Prayer needs to be the underlying fabric that weaves itself throughout our days. Ongoing conversation with God, not just a few minutes of filler.
Maybe the best way to become a better pray-er is to be around good pray-ers. I had that opportunity a couple years ago when I was on Ozark's camp teams with two girls who were great pray-ers, and I learned a lot about prayer from both of them. Joni modeled a life of specific and faithful prayer. While others may pray things like, "God, help me be a good witness for you," she would pray something like, "God, give me an opportunity to speak with So-and-So this week, and give me the words to say." And then she would really believe that God would answer that prayer. Maybe the reason our prayers aren't as effective as we would like is that we present foggy requests instead of specific ones.
From the other girl on my camp team, Kaylene, I was able to see the importance of persistence in prayer. Jesus talked about that when he told a story about a widow repeatedly pleading to a judge that she be given justice. For a long time the judge denies her request, but eventually he obliges. There is value in continuing to ask for something, and thankfully, God doesn't get annoyed with our constant requests as easily as most parents do with their children. But faith is proven most in silence, when we don't know if God will work things out the way we expect, but we continue to pray.
Last year I read The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence, and if you want to be challenged and inspired by someone who had this prayer thing down, I highly recommend it. It's an area where none of us are at complete maturation, and as with most aspects of being a Christian, we need to grow in it every day.
I mentioned a while back about the possibility of my friend Caitlyn and I co-writing a post together. She's smarter than me in a lot of ways, and she said that she finally has an idea, so we'll be working on that for next time. Try to contain your excitement. I know it's hard.
-Ephesians 6:18-20.
It's funny how things work together sometimes. Because of an experience I had while in New York last week, I had planned to write a post about prayer today, and at church yesterday morning, the focus was also put on prayer, with the above passage being the text for the sermon. Apparently, this is a thought that God especially wants to drill into my head.
The truth is that I'm a poor pray-er. (I'm also afraid that this post could be terribly confusing in that "prayer" in the sense of "one who prays" looks exactly the same as "prayer" as "a petition made to God." So when I mean the former sense, I'll write it as "pray-er.") But honestly, one of the many failings in my life is that I need to learn to pray better. That phrase "pray better" sounds inappropriate because, after all, aren't all prayers precious? Isn't any prayer a good one? Maybe so, but some prayer lives are weaker than others, and I know that there is a great deal of room to grow in mine, and I know all of us have at least some need for maturation in how we pray. I know that for me, my prayers are far too infrequent, bland, vague, and wishy-washy. When I do pray, my thoughts are bombarded by daydreams and distractions, and I hurry through the whole ordeal so that I can get to something else. Very different from the devotion and focus that the Bible calls us to and that Jesus exemplified.
I was in New York City last week for a class. New York was amazing, and the trip will probably be influencing my next few posts. One of my favorite times of the week was Tuesday evening when our class attended the prayer service at Brooklyn Tabernacle. The pastor at Brooklyn Tabernacle is a guy named Jim Cymbala, who wrote a book called Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire. It's all about how the church grew dramatically because of constant, powerful prayer. Prayer lies at the foundation of Brooklyn Tabernacle; it's its lifeblood and fuel. Walking into the building, the most noticeable feature was that almost the entire congregation was black. In part because of that culture, and in part because of other factors, the way the people prayed was a little different than what I was used to. None of it was done in a way that attracted attention to the pray-ers, nor was it chaotic. But people were crying out to God in ways that are not often seen in churches I have been to, and it was both refreshing and challenging. There was an especially powerful time of prayer because Tuesday was the day of the earthquake the devastated Haiti, and they had all of the people at Brooklyn Tabernacle from that nation go up on stage and the entire church prayed for that situation.
While it's unfortunate to say, many church in America come nowhere close to the dedication to prayer present at Brooklyn Tabernacle. In many churches, prayer functions as a time of transition between segments of the service than it does as a dynamic means of communication with God. We use it as a means to let the worship band get to their instruments while congregants have their eyes closed, or we use it to recap the three main points of our sermon before the invitation hymn. At Brooklyn Tabernacle, however, it's at the center. They have awareness of needs both in the world and among themselves, and they pray faithfully, truly believing that God is able and willing to reach into the world and make existence better, to allow his kingdom to be come. Their prayers are rich, not because they use King James-y language or lift up their hands, but because they pray heartfelt, earnest, urgent prayers. Conversely, in our prayers, both individually and corporately, we use a lot of words to say very little. I spend time in prayer and later think, "Man, I don't really even feel like I prayed for anything."
Although done differently than Brooklyn Tabernacle, we had a pretty great prayer experience at Carterville yesterday. As I mentioned, the topic for the day was prayer, and throughout the worship service, times of prayer were mixed in among the songs. So we would sing a song, and one of the leaders would say a few things, and then we would spend time in prayer for things like Haiti or families or how God can use us. Prayer was intertwined with the rest of the service. And I think that's sort of how prayer should work its way into our lives. Prayer needs to be the underlying fabric that weaves itself throughout our days. Ongoing conversation with God, not just a few minutes of filler.
Maybe the best way to become a better pray-er is to be around good pray-ers. I had that opportunity a couple years ago when I was on Ozark's camp teams with two girls who were great pray-ers, and I learned a lot about prayer from both of them. Joni modeled a life of specific and faithful prayer. While others may pray things like, "God, help me be a good witness for you," she would pray something like, "God, give me an opportunity to speak with So-and-So this week, and give me the words to say." And then she would really believe that God would answer that prayer. Maybe the reason our prayers aren't as effective as we would like is that we present foggy requests instead of specific ones.
From the other girl on my camp team, Kaylene, I was able to see the importance of persistence in prayer. Jesus talked about that when he told a story about a widow repeatedly pleading to a judge that she be given justice. For a long time the judge denies her request, but eventually he obliges. There is value in continuing to ask for something, and thankfully, God doesn't get annoyed with our constant requests as easily as most parents do with their children. But faith is proven most in silence, when we don't know if God will work things out the way we expect, but we continue to pray.
Last year I read The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence, and if you want to be challenged and inspired by someone who had this prayer thing down, I highly recommend it. It's an area where none of us are at complete maturation, and as with most aspects of being a Christian, we need to grow in it every day.
I mentioned a while back about the possibility of my friend Caitlyn and I co-writing a post together. She's smarter than me in a lot of ways, and she said that she finally has an idea, so we'll be working on that for next time. Try to contain your excitement. I know it's hard.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
This Isn't the Church
In the "Blog Archive" section on the right, there's now a drop-arrow for 2010. How momentous.
It's a new year, a new decade, and nearly a new semester. My winter break is churning along toward its end, as I will be returning to Joplin on Saturday. I've enjoyed my break. It's nice to be able to sit around all day with no real concerns, especially after a semester as out of control as the last one. But I'm not very good with being at home for long periods of time. I can only take all the cats so long, and due in part to the three snowfalls we've had since I've been here, I've got a bit of cabin fever. That will be remedied soon, however, and the really exciting part is that I will be heading to New York City on Sunday for a week-long class on urban ministry. I absolutely love big cities, and though I've sort of been through parts of NYC before, I've never been to Manhattan, and I can't wait to eat the pizza, hot dogs from the vendors, and bagels the size of my head. Actually, I guess I just really like food, and I'm ready for something besides the corn dogs from my freezer.
In preparation for this class, I've had to do some reading during my break. The first book I read was called Key Concepts in Urban Studies. Most of it was pretty tedious reading, especially since a lot of it dealt with economic concepts, and all of that just goes over my head. I have enough trouble remembering to pay my credit card bill. The other book I read is called Everyday Theology, edited by Kevin J. Vanhoozer. This one was thankfully much more enjoyable. It's all about how to gain a better understanding of culture by reading cultural texts and trends, and then how to connect this with theological thought. Most of the book is made up of essays written by different people, each identifying a cultural/text or trend and then explaining it theologically.
As I scanned the table of contents, one chapter that naturally piqued my interest was written by a guy named Justin A. Bailey and called "Welcome to the Blogosphere." Bailey writes a lot of good stuff (as evidenced by the frequent highlighter marks in my book), so I thought I would share some of it with you. He starts out by explaining how blogging became popular over time and how this participatory media has changed the way people receive and interpret news, and that part is all fine and dandy, but when it really gets interesting is when he starts connecting blogging with how we view the church and community. Bailey quotes a guy named Tim Bednar: "The phenomenon of blogging is transforming our expectations of church. Soon this meme--this product of our online spiritual formation--will emerge from our cyberchurch and transform the traditional church" (183).
I really enjoy maintaining this blog. As I've written before, it's at times therapeutic for me, and it forces me to think. If left to my own devices, I would sit on my couch all day every day watching reruns of 90's sitcoms. Instead, I have to remain as sharp as my meager ability allows me to, thinking critically about what I see and hear so that I can formulate an idea into a tidy 5-10 paragraphs. I know how rowdy you all get when I don't post for a couple weeks, so I've got to keep it coming, you know what I mean? And I really do hope that something on here somehow helps you, and I'm always encouraged when someone tells me that it has. I also love reading others' blogs, and it brings my heart joy when my Bloggolution sidebar shows that someone wrote something new. I hope that we all somehow become a little wiser by listening to each other in the life-conversation in this way. But I don't think anything that happens here can be an adequate substitute for what happens in the community of the church, and it's dangerous to think positively of a church shaped by blogs. They're not the same.
People are more apt to be open and honest with the online community than they are with actual people. The internet is a place for nameless, faceless dialogue. It's easier to type words into a textbox than to let them come from your lips. People will confess and discuss all sorts of things online that they wouldn't in the physical world. Why? We live in a world in which people put make-up over their bruises, where they hide its hurts and ills behind a smile and a handshake. Where they open themselves up online but not in our churches. Why? Bailey writes, "[...] we need to admit that one of the reasons why so many have gone online in search of community is that they have not found it in our churches" (184). Ouch. He then cites a comment that was left on a Christian blog:
The internet can't do what the church was designed to do. This blog can't give you a ride to the store when your car breaks down. It can't partake in the Lord's Supper with you. It can't sing to God with you. And it can't sit with you at Chick-fil-A and just talk about life with you. That's what we need to be doing in our community of the church--in our bodily, physical, breathing community. We need to be there for one another in real ways, and we need to show that real world where real community can be found, all the while reflecting our very real God. Because ethernet cables and Wi-Fi hotspots can only do so much, but the churc is meant to change the world.
A couple closing thoughts, one somewhat related to the rest of the post, and the other not at all. First, blogs themselves probably aren't as in vogue as they were several years ago. You might remember when everyone and their pet gerbil had a Xanga account. Nowadays, the world of online community is dominated by our common friend Mark Zuckerberg and his website called Facebook. Maybe you've heard of it. Anyways, when I was on the staff of my high school newspaper, I wrote a column about fads (like digital pets, Surge, Tickle-Me Elmo, etc.) In that column, I penned this brilliant prophecy:
Second, recently I was reading The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, which was first published in 1678. It's a Christian classic and is an allegorical account of Christian's journey from the City of Destruction to to the Celestial City. In one town, Christian and his traveling companion, Faithful, are mocked, beaten, locked in a cage, and put on trial before the people of the town have Faithful skinned, stoned, stabbed, and burned. What is the name of this town? Vanity Fair. It seems an odd titling choice to me that a women's fashion magazine would name itself after a literary place that imprisons, tortures, and kills Christians.
It's a new year, a new decade, and nearly a new semester. My winter break is churning along toward its end, as I will be returning to Joplin on Saturday. I've enjoyed my break. It's nice to be able to sit around all day with no real concerns, especially after a semester as out of control as the last one. But I'm not very good with being at home for long periods of time. I can only take all the cats so long, and due in part to the three snowfalls we've had since I've been here, I've got a bit of cabin fever. That will be remedied soon, however, and the really exciting part is that I will be heading to New York City on Sunday for a week-long class on urban ministry. I absolutely love big cities, and though I've sort of been through parts of NYC before, I've never been to Manhattan, and I can't wait to eat the pizza, hot dogs from the vendors, and bagels the size of my head. Actually, I guess I just really like food, and I'm ready for something besides the corn dogs from my freezer.
In preparation for this class, I've had to do some reading during my break. The first book I read was called Key Concepts in Urban Studies. Most of it was pretty tedious reading, especially since a lot of it dealt with economic concepts, and all of that just goes over my head. I have enough trouble remembering to pay my credit card bill. The other book I read is called Everyday Theology, edited by Kevin J. Vanhoozer. This one was thankfully much more enjoyable. It's all about how to gain a better understanding of culture by reading cultural texts and trends, and then how to connect this with theological thought. Most of the book is made up of essays written by different people, each identifying a cultural/text or trend and then explaining it theologically.
As I scanned the table of contents, one chapter that naturally piqued my interest was written by a guy named Justin A. Bailey and called "Welcome to the Blogosphere." Bailey writes a lot of good stuff (as evidenced by the frequent highlighter marks in my book), so I thought I would share some of it with you. He starts out by explaining how blogging became popular over time and how this participatory media has changed the way people receive and interpret news, and that part is all fine and dandy, but when it really gets interesting is when he starts connecting blogging with how we view the church and community. Bailey quotes a guy named Tim Bednar: "The phenomenon of blogging is transforming our expectations of church. Soon this meme--this product of our online spiritual formation--will emerge from our cyberchurch and transform the traditional church" (183).
I really enjoy maintaining this blog. As I've written before, it's at times therapeutic for me, and it forces me to think. If left to my own devices, I would sit on my couch all day every day watching reruns of 90's sitcoms. Instead, I have to remain as sharp as my meager ability allows me to, thinking critically about what I see and hear so that I can formulate an idea into a tidy 5-10 paragraphs. I know how rowdy you all get when I don't post for a couple weeks, so I've got to keep it coming, you know what I mean? And I really do hope that something on here somehow helps you, and I'm always encouraged when someone tells me that it has. I also love reading others' blogs, and it brings my heart joy when my Bloggolution sidebar shows that someone wrote something new. I hope that we all somehow become a little wiser by listening to each other in the life-conversation in this way. But I don't think anything that happens here can be an adequate substitute for what happens in the community of the church, and it's dangerous to think positively of a church shaped by blogs. They're not the same.
People are more apt to be open and honest with the online community than they are with actual people. The internet is a place for nameless, faceless dialogue. It's easier to type words into a textbox than to let them come from your lips. People will confess and discuss all sorts of things online that they wouldn't in the physical world. Why? We live in a world in which people put make-up over their bruises, where they hide its hurts and ills behind a smile and a handshake. Where they open themselves up online but not in our churches. Why? Bailey writes, "[...] we need to admit that one of the reasons why so many have gone online in search of community is that they have not found it in our churches" (184). Ouch. He then cites a comment that was left on a Christian blog:
There is the real world where I live which is broken, messy, scary, profane, filled with risk, sadness, loneliness, sickness, hate, fear, doubt, death, love, hope, mercy, grace, friends, faith and faithlessness....Then there is the church world. I haven't talked to anyone in that world about what is real in many, many years.If these revelations aren't extremely distressing to us as Christians, I don't know what would be. There's something wrong when, as people deal with this "real world," they can't find a real church to surround them. Instead, they bring their crap to the world of pixels and blogs and "I Like" buttons, because that's evidently where they find community. As followers of Jesus, it's our mandate to act like Jesus in tangible ways.
The internet can't do what the church was designed to do. This blog can't give you a ride to the store when your car breaks down. It can't partake in the Lord's Supper with you. It can't sing to God with you. And it can't sit with you at Chick-fil-A and just talk about life with you. That's what we need to be doing in our community of the church--in our bodily, physical, breathing community. We need to be there for one another in real ways, and we need to show that real world where real community can be found, all the while reflecting our very real God. Because ethernet cables and Wi-Fi hotspots can only do so much, but the churc is meant to change the world.
A couple closing thoughts, one somewhat related to the rest of the post, and the other not at all. First, blogs themselves probably aren't as in vogue as they were several years ago. You might remember when everyone and their pet gerbil had a Xanga account. Nowadays, the world of online community is dominated by our common friend Mark Zuckerberg and his website called Facebook. Maybe you've heard of it. Anyways, when I was on the staff of my high school newspaper, I wrote a column about fads (like digital pets, Surge, Tickle-Me Elmo, etc.) In that column, I penned this brilliant prophecy:
I hear a lot about facebook.com these days. At this website, all of these people can put up their picture and some information about themselves, and then other members call them their friends and leave little messages. And this is my question: Why? It seems to me that all it does is allow all of these people who are already your friends in real life come and call themselves your friends on the Internet. This concept is doomed to fail; facebook will soon become just another fad.Whoops.
Second, recently I was reading The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, which was first published in 1678. It's a Christian classic and is an allegorical account of Christian's journey from the City of Destruction to to the Celestial City. In one town, Christian and his traveling companion, Faithful, are mocked, beaten, locked in a cage, and put on trial before the people of the town have Faithful skinned, stoned, stabbed, and burned. What is the name of this town? Vanity Fair. It seems an odd titling choice to me that a women's fashion magazine would name itself after a literary place that imprisons, tortures, and kills Christians.
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