The Quest for True Novelty

(I wrote this for a friend’s birthday, but in my own academically-dishonest way, I am re-using this piece for blog content and unceremoniously publishing it on my own birthday.Enjoy!)

There’s this part of me that wants to be known as a writer — someone who constructs profound ideas out of carefully arranged words. But let’s be honest, in this universe, writing code pays a whole lot more than writing poorly researched articles. And there’s no way I’m entrusting my daily bread to something as fickle as my writer’s block. Case in point: I went about two years without publishing anything. I would have starved to death and wouldn’t be with you all today.

One of the most discouraging things for me as a writer is this sense that I don’t actually have anything interesting to say, that whatever I would have written has already been said by someone else, somewhere else. (P.S. Darn you, RELEVANT magazine for always beating me to all my best ideas.)

My last piece was a six-point exposition on why Christians should care about the environment. (You can read it here.) But what’s wild is that I thought up the article in 2018. It took me five years to get it out the door. Partially because I kept missing Earth Day, when I wanted to publish it, but also because it seemed like everything there was to say on the topic had already been said — that I had missed some cultural zeitgeist that was ripe for the emergence of my thoughts.

But in some perfect storm of free time, planning, and inspiration, but mostly furious typing on the day of publication, I finished the magnum opus of my post-college years, and emerged with something shaped by pondering, procrastination, and the courage to be unoriginal.

I’ve come to realize the beauty of human creativity lies not in novelty, but in synthesis. Surrendering to the reality that I have never had a truly original thought. But neither has anyone since the God-ordained dawn of time.

Maybe every idea — every combination of those ideas into a coherent body of writing — is some recombination of some other ideas or experiences that its “originator” encountered. Every piece of music, in some way, sounds like something else. Every piece of art has its inspiration in some other creation.

Yet in this all, we find a kind of uniqueness. Not novelty. Synthesis.

Much in the same way that the hundred or so elements are combined into more or less the same set of molecular building blocks that are in you and everyone else around you — and even in the same sorts of patterns. But in the fine details, the unique ways they are arranged and re-arranged in your body, that’s what makes you, you. Add to that the specific concoction of experiences, choices, relationships that are all yours. And so yes, we all see the same world, the same sea of ideas and inspirations, but the way you synthesize those things together — into prose, poetry, art, music — is uniquely yours. The people you will share your creativity with — the people you will touch, your network of connections to the unique you…

As Moredcai says to Queen Esther — perhaps you were born for such a time as this. For God has ordained the time and place that we each live. Even if you say exactly what has been said before, perhaps you were still made to say it in this time and place.

So this quest for true novelty is much like the proverbial pot of gold at the end of the rainbow — ultimately unattainable. But what if we learned to enjoy the rainbow?
To partake in this creative process, not in an endless struggle to establish ourselves as creators, but surrendering to the reality and limitations of our nature as created beings.

Rather than striving to manufacture our own light (and subsequently burning out), what if we chose to reflect and refract the light all around us — the light that comes ultimately from the sun.
Surrendering my own innate desire to assert myself as God and create ex nihilo, out of nothing, but instead exert this creative impulse as a facet of the imago dei, the touch of the image of God that has been imparted to every human soul.

In turn, this frees us from this existential angst that we’ll never be unique enough, creative enough to matter. Instead, we get to rest in knowing that we matter, individually, to the God who has crafted every particularity of who we are.
And you and I get to weave together the threads He has given — into a beautiful tapestry — whether of words or notes or brushstrokes.

You were created to create.

I’d like to end with some words from some of the great poets of the early 2000’s — really, short of a laureate, I swear — Natasha Bedingfield:

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you cannot find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten.

Why Christians Should Care About the Environment (Even if it is All Going to Burn in the End)

I have been wanting to write this article since the spring of 2018 after a brief discussion with my roommate at the time.  (This was for you, Jules 😉).  Since then, much has happened in our world (mostly COVID), and perhaps this piece is less relevant to the current zeitgeist than it was when it was first conceived.  And this piece will be quite different than what I would have written five years ago, and probably for the better.
Dedicated also to my “hippie” friends at Davis, with whom I got to enjoy the beauty of God’s creation through hikes and camping trips, and who inspired me with their faith-driven environmentalism.

I. In the beginning…

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”  Genesis 1:1.  The saga begins.
The Bible begins by orienting us to a fundamental truth about the world around us — that it is not the outcome of not an impersonal force, but the workmanship of a personal God, who at the end of the chapter declares His creation good, as He is good.

Creation Care as Worship

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.

Psalm 19:1-2 (ESV)

Despite how overly quoted that verse from Psalm 19 is, it’s no less true.  Creation declares God’s glory.
As the Westminster Shorter Catechism says, “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him for ever,” and I believe that the creation is one of many means that God has given us for this end.

“Creation Care”:  I’m going to use this phrase for the rest of this article.  By it I mean the God-centered environmentalism that seeks to honor the Creator by honoring His creation.  Not in a pagan “Mother Earth” sense that worships the natural world as supreme, but sees the supremacy of the Creator through the work of His hands.  I’ve always wondered whether Christians are so afraid of worshipping creation, that we refuse to worship the Creator through His creation.  Perhaps we fall into a willful neglect of creation, a sort of Gnosticism that honors the spiritual at the cost of dishonoring the physical.

Let’s push against this; Let’s affirm the goodness in the natural world, preserve it, and hold it up as a lens through which we see the glory and goodness of the One who made it.  With every species that goes extinct or every habitat that gets destroyed, perhaps we are losing another glimpse into the mind of our Maker.  Because every intricate design points to the intentionality of a God who both orchestrates the motion of the planets and works in the inner inclinations of the human soul.

Creation Care as Good Work

Caring for creation was God’s original job for humanity.  In Genesis 1 and 2, God creates all things, the earth, the sky, the sea, every plant and animal, and then finally mankind.  God then gives humanity this command: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth”  (Genesis 1:29, ESV).   Then, “The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it” (Genesis 2:15, ESV).  Man’s original purpose was to rule over creation, not exploiting and abusing it like a tyrant, but working to create order and help it thrive like a good ruler.

Even though we have long left Eden, what if this was still part of our DNA? As people in the image of God, the Creator, what if the good work of protecting, nurturing, and cultivating the creation was a way to be like Him?  People who care well for the works of His divine creativity that He has entrusted to us.

II. After the fall…

A quick look at the world around us tells us that we’re not in Eden anymore.

Genesis 3 tells us of the Fall, where relationships are broken—between humanity and God, between fellow humans, and between humanity and creation.  And we see it in every facet of our lives–our sin twisting the way we see God, the way we see one another, and destroying the world around us.

But then at the climax of the Biblical narrative, Jesus came into our world, the Creator entering the creation, to restore those relationships: first reconciling us to God, then to one another and to the world around us. 

Creation Care as Witness

There is a way in which Western Christianity today has focused on the first two areas of reconciliation (or arguably only on the first one) but has neglected to remember that our restoration to God entails a restored relationship to creation as well. 
I am not advocating that we de-prioritize the salvation of human souls in order to save the planet.  Jesus’s Great Commission to us is still to “go and make disciples of all nations” (Mt. 28:19).

But as John Piper said, “mission exists because worship doesn’t.”  In some ways, it is a result of the Fall that our mission has shifted from conservation to evangelism.  If caring for creation is a way of worshipping God, what if our witness was as holistic as our worship?  What if the way we treat nature, as the worthy creation of a worthier Creator, was a way in which we pointed to the goodness of God to the watching world?  On the converse, when Christians choose abuse and exploitation of the environment for the sake of corporate profits, or regard the environment with a callous disregard, what does that say about who our God is?
What if our environmentalism was integrated with our mission, as we enter into the work of restoring humanity’s relationship with the natural world, in order to share the grander gospel message of restored relationship with God? 

Creation Care as Justice

Setting aside the hippie ethos of living in harmony with nature for just one second, there remains a reason for a faith-driven environmentalism that is rooted in loving others as He has loved us.  The beauty and curse of our world is that all things are intertwined.  The destruction of our natural world diminishes human flourishing, particularly for those that Jesus calls “the least of these”–the poor and marginalized.  These are people at the center of God’s heart, and people that we are unambiguously called to love.

Environmental issues disproportionately affect the poor and marginalized (The Guardian, Governing).  For the privileged, we see the clutter on our streets and complain about the heat, all without major threat to our lives.
Even within the United States, which is relatively affluent in the global scope, we see disparities in health outcomes between rich and poor due to the higher levels of pollution in neighborhoods that have less economic and political power (Scientific American).  If we look globally, we see the results of our consumeristic culture generating toxic fumes that poison children in less affluent countries, as they make a living by “recycling” our e-waste (World Health Organization).
As climate change induces cycles of drought and flooding, it endangers the livelihoods of farmers globally.  As sea levels rise, the poor will be flooded out of their homes, while the rich will simply be able to move to higher ground.  The luxury of being able to ignore environmental issues like climate change and pollution is a way that injustice plays out in our world.

Micah 6:8b asks “what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  What if making environmentally conscious choices is an act of loving my neighbors, both locally and globally?

III. On the way to redemption…

Belief about the future influences the way we live in the present.  For the Christian, we know the future in the eternal scope.  2 Peter 3 tells us that the heavens and earth as we know it know are bound for destruction by fire.  And the finale of the Bible tells of the unveiling of a brand new heavens and earth.

So then we are left with the big why…
If God is going to destroy the world as we know it and make all things new, then why should we bother at all?

Creation Care as Picture of Redemption

Romans 8, one of my favorite passages of all time, opens with the promise of no condemnation for all who are in Christ, paints a picture of what life with the Spirit looks like, and crescendos into a grand conclusion that nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of Christ.  But somewhere in the middle, it speaks of creation in this way:

For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God.  For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.  For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.

Romans 8:19-22 (ESV)

Why would creation be so eager for the revelation of the children of God?  How does our salvation through Christ have anything to do with the redemption of creation from the curse of sin?
What if God plans to make creation new in the same way he makes us new?

1 Corinthians 5:17 tells us that “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.”  But how many of us still wrestle with the brokenness in our own lives, even with Christ?  And yet God calls us new creations, even as we continue to live in our broken reality.  We live in the already-not-yet.  And God gives us the Holy Spirit to do the miraculous work of transformation in us, growing us more in holiness, more into the people we were meant to be, and more in the image of His Son.  If God promises that he will completely remove the sin nature from our future glory selves, then why must we endure the often painful process of sanctification during our time on earth, if not to prepare us for life in the kingdom?

After graduating from college I lived with a family who meticulously washed out their recyclables before putting them in the bin. What if this too was a form of faithful discipleship? *
What if our meager efforts to live in right relationship to God’s creation is a practice in growing towards our future when God does make all things new? 
What if God intended His people–people experiencing inner transformation, beginning to live out the Kingdom “on earth as it is in Heaven.”–to be part of His work in the redemption of creation?

Creation Care as Hopeful Futility

But even my best efforts to be eco-friendly and care for creation are tainted with sin and futility.
Every green product seems to have about 5 devastating side-effects, whether it’s the production or packaging.  Corporate greed still tries to sell us green campaigns that have no real impact. 
My showers are still too long, I still use too much toilet paper, and I never seem to have my reusable cup or straw with me at the right time.  And it’s truly disheartening, after all my efforts to sort out my trash, recycling, and compost at work, only to find that it all goes into the same dumpster at the end of the day.

Sometimes I wonder if my attempts to live out creation care are pointlessly futile.  But in so many of the same ways, my attempts to redeem the brokenness and society and relationships around me are just as futile.  And yet, God still calls us to act justly, love mercy, and walk with Him in every facet of life.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the proverb that “anything worth doing is worth doing poorly,” and I think it applies.  What if it’s not entirely about the end result but about who we are becoming as people?  People stumbling towards the light, productively struggling to do right, with a hope that is ultimately in the renewal that God will bring about at the end of days. 

What now?

I hope I’ve laid out something of a theological framework for seeing our relationship to nature in light of the goodness of creation, the effects of the fall, the work of redemption, and the future of the new creation.  The natural world, the created world, the environment, whatever you want to call it–is a reflection of who God is, and we were made to be in right relationship with it.

So how do we live that out?
I actually don’t want to give any prescriptions for what to do, because advice too soon becomes law.  Even with the best intentions, we already have enough disagreement about what it takes to run a church, or how to best address poverty, so let us be patient with one another even as we figure out how to best steward and care for creation.

A difference between a faith-driven environmentalism and a secular version of it is the hope and grace that God gives.  If we don’t believe that God will complete the renewal of creation, we exhaust ourselves to be the savior of the world.  If we don’t believe in the grace of God to cover our failures, we will beat ourselves and each other up when our efforts fail.  Holding this grace and hope in mind, there is much we can learn from (dare I say?) the secular world and the body of knowledge developed through empirical science.  We can joining into the seeing more wonder (and more of the creator) in the natural world, and learn together how to best care for it.
So let’s listen and learn well.  And do as best we know.*

* But please, no aspirational recycling.  It’s unhelpful, to say the least.  Now you know.

This is my Father’s world,
And to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings
The music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world:
I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas–
His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world:
The birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white,
Declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass,
He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father’s world:
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the Ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world:
Why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King: let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad!

“This Is My Father’s World” – Maltbie D. Babcock (1901)

Let us celebrate love…

Let us celebrate love
Not in candy hearts or diamond rings,
    colorful cards or fluffy bears
Not in fragrant roses or sunset serenades,
    candlelit dinners or starlit dancing
Not in passionate kisses or tender touches,
Not in butterflies and sparks

But grounded, steady love,
forged in commitment and constancy
    communication and compromise
    forgiveness and grace—
    oh, so much grace.

Let us celebrate love
In our imperfect stumbling
    toward sacrifice and selflessness
In the hurt and the healing
    and the road in between
In tears that just won’t stop
    and the tissues that soak them up
In poopy diapers and sleepless nights
In cancer diagnoses and hospital visits
    and in the grief that is love persevering
In hands joined in prayer
and feet that run—
    just to be with
    the hurting and broken
    and bind up their wounds.

Let us celebrate love
That is patient and kind
That fights—
    through the differences and disagreements
and puts in the work it takes
    to bring two lives together
That lasts until the wrinkles show up
—and far beyond.
That has weathered
    fire and rain
    joy and pain
    abundance and lack
    sickness and health
That walks through the shadow of death
    and casts out fear.

Love that would love
    at our most unlovable
Love that points to the greatest Love—
    who would choose
    over Heaven’s splendor
    an old rugged cross.

Let us celebrate Love.

"God is love...
There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.
We love because he first loved us."
1 John 4:16-19 (ESV)
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (ESV)

22 Songs for 2022

Welcome to my reflection on the year 2022, summarized in a playlist of 22 songs.
Or, as I like to think of it, my real 2022 Spotify Wrapped (cleansed of the songs I just had on mindless repeat).

(Link to Spotify playlist : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xwwRsmYsKktoEcVUHoJuU?si=48838bf665ea4a11)

Chapter 1: Healing

1. I Wanna Get Better – ATC, The Ready Set
This is a cover of the Bleachers song, but a little more stripped-down and intimate with chillingly beautiful female vocals.
Anyways, in so many ways, this song represents where I was at the beginning of 2020, a bit numbed by loss and crisis, but at the same time committed to living and seeking help (therapy, counseling) to get “better.”

2. As It WasHarry Styles
Harry. Styles. Between the emergence of his acting career, and the release of his album Harry’s House (which subsequently pervaded much of our soundspace), he’s been a fixture of 2022, in my book.
Beyond just its catchy opening riff, “As It Was” even made it into this NPR Planet Money Podcast, which asks “Is this song happy or sad?” Maybe we’ll never know. But to me, this song is a coming to terms with the fact that things are just different–not necessarily bad, just different. Whether in life circumstances or just even in who I am, choosing not to lament mourn what was, but to be thankful for it and for the life I have now, and the person I am now, recognizing God at work in both.

3. Moving ForwardColony House
Despite missing Switchfoot on tour with NEEDTOBREATHE last year (we saw the one NEEDTOBREATHE show that Switchfoot skipped 😢), we caught them this year. Colony House, was playing right before Switchfoot, and they did this one live. I had heard this song before, but even getting to hear the bit of story behind it made it all the more rich with meaning.
It’s a beautiful song about moving forward (no duh), acknowledging the unkindness of life but not being defined by it.
When the pain is true, sometimes these troubles prove that I’m alive;
Sometimes, Life can feel so unkind. Sorrow won’t define me, so just reminds my soul.

4. Don’t Be so Hard on YourselfJess Glynne
Not a new song by any means, but discovered it this year. It’s an anthem for sure, like Rachel Platten’s Fight Song but dancier.
It’s been a song for me trying to break free of perfectionism, my own high and possibly unrealistic expectations for myself, and learning to accept and live in God’s grace in all areas of my life, even the ones that aren’t explicitly spiritual.
Don’t be so hard on yourself, no
Learn to forgive, learn to let go
Everyone trips, everyone falls
So don’t be so hard on yourself, no
‘Cause I’m just tired of marching on my own

5. About Damn TimeLizzo(ooooooooo)
As you can tell from the title, this song by no means passes the clean language test and certainly earns the “E” for explicit.
But I do love some Lizzo in my life. (Lizzo’s NPR Tiny Desk Concert is one of my all-time favorites.)
I originally put this song in the “joy” chapter, since it’s so fun and catchy, right down to the very Lizzo flute part.
But as I look back over these lyrics, it fits so well thematically with the journey of this year. (And because the next section is already packed 😂).
It’s been a minute tell me how you’re healing
Oh, I’m not the girl I was or used to be

Chapter 2: Joy

6. Banks NEEDTOBREATHE
“Terry loves Love!” – Terry Jeffords (Terry Crews) in Brooklyn 99
One of the joys of this year has been getting to celebrate some friends getting married! This was an excellent choice for a first dance song for one of the couples. I already love NEEDTOBREATHE and this song, and them, so it was a perfect marriage of all three! (Pun intended)

7. Overpass Graffiti Ed Sheeran
What would this playlist be without a song from my #4 artist on my 2022 Wrapped?
(I’m still going to somehow deny being a Swiftie despite her appearing at slot #1 on the list.
It’s me, I’m the problem, it’s me. It’s exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero 😉).
Anyways, this is yet another catchy pop song about love, but there’s an undertone of choosing commitment through the ups and downs of relationships.

8. Where I Belong Simple Plan, State Champs, We The Kings
If I could choose two genres for the year, pop punk would be one of them. Three bands in one song? Sounds like a fun time.
This song sounds like the freedom and thriving in “life in a mostly post-COVID world,” as we’re finally catching up with friends, bands, and just life after what felt like an eternity away.
I’m finally breathing
Like I never could on my own
Start the countdown, let’s get it on
Scream our lungs out to our favorite song
‘Cause this is where I belong

9. Dear Maria, Count Me In All Time Low
This is just a classic pop-punk banger. This one was actually in my Spotify Wrapped Top Songs of 2022.
I don’t need to say anymore. IYKYK.

10. I Ain’t Worried OneRepublic (from Top Gun: Maverick)
Catchy. Fun. Summer vibes. This was the song from the movie of this summer. While most reboots pale in comparison to the originals, this one raised the stakes and was arguably better than the first. To top it off, we got to see OneRepublic live in concert (with NEEDTOBREATHE).
We also saw the Goo Goo Dolls, who unfortunately did not make it into this playlist (too many good ones to choose from!)
I think having all their songs on repeat in preparation for the concerts is what comprises at least 50% of my Spotify Wrapped.

11. The Big Bow-WowSNOOPY!! (The Musical)
This year, I learned of the existence of the Snoopy musical, and it has brought much amusement and mirth.
Snoopy is so silly. From his cackling laughter to his beagle antics, to this big musical number, he’s numero uno!
Class, yes! Style, yes!
Out front by a mile, yes! …
Pardon my beagle, but…WHOOPEE!
Now I’m The Big Bow Wow!

We may have even dressed up as Charlie Brown and Lucy for Halloween!

12. Dino DiscoOrange Guava Passion
Fun and funky song – about dinos just dancing it out.

That would be my second genre of the year: my foray into retro pop. I love the jazzy bass lines, the use of saxophone, and just the overall groovyness. This song and the next are the highlights of this genre for me.

13. Conjunction Junction Couch
The language nerd in me likes this song. It’s about conjunctions! And, but, & or!
I am now realizing this is a cover of a Schoolhouse Rock song, but in a funky retro pop.

14. Blinding Lights The Naked and Famous
Say hello to another cover! Again, I love the female vocal that adds dimension to the song, and I just like it more than the original by The Weeknd. Starts off slowly but powerfully and builds really well into a synth-driven banger.
I also really enjoy their other song, “Everybody Knows”, but their cover works as a representative sample given my self-imposed 22-song limit.

Chapter 3: Hope

15. The Road, The Rocks, The Weeds John Mark McMillan
This song came out towards the end of 2019, but it remains a deep comfort and hope amidst the tragedies and sorrows of 2022, 2021, and 2022. Unlike the gods of Olympus, our Maker and Savior descended from heaven to enter into our suffering and feel every heartbreak with us.
When I’ve got no answers for hurt knees or cancers
But a Savior who suffers them with me
Singing goodbye, Olympus, the heart of my Maker
Is spread out on the road, the rocks, and the weeds

16. Kind The Ben Potter
A struggle of this year has been to believe that God is good, not just on a cosmic scale, but on a personal level as well.
To know that He is for His glory and my good. This was a tender reminder of that.
(I’m in the middle of reading Dane Ortlund’s Gentle and Lowly, and this is like the song version of it!)
Your heart is kind
Your heart always beats kindly


17. SatisfyRivers & Robots
“jOggs.” Perhaps the master of Christian lofi chillhop. Meditative and atmospheric. Chill beats to be vibing out for Jesus.
This song has been on repeat — partly because it is first on my playlist, but also because it’s like Psalm 16 brought into the modern age.

18. Always Will Be Jonathan Ogden
Your name alone has power to save the lost and broken
No force of hell can stop the things that you have spoken
You alone, You are worthy
Always were, always will be

I love this chorus–the reminder that He alone has power to save the lost and broken: both myself and the people around me.
In myself, I have no power to save, either myself from my own sins and habits, nor the power to fix the brokenness I see around me. But He does, and He has been and always be worthy of unending praises.

19. pink skies LANY
I guess this is what the kids these days are listening to.
The Malibu beach vibe sounds rings with the youthful naivety of first love.

20. Look at the SkyPorter Robinson
While I’m 90% sure that this is not a Christian song, it reminds me of the psalmist of Psalm 121, lifting his eyes to the Lord, for help, for hope. This song just exudes hope–and for me, it’s a hope in the God who has been “still here” throughout all the ups and downs of the year. As He wills, “I’ll be alive next year,” and he’ll do what He’s done in this year–made something good.
Look at the sky, I’m still here
I’ll be alive next year
I can make something good
Something good

Chapter 4: Christmas Songs

As a certified December baby, the Christmas season inherently encroaches on my experience of reflecting on the past year.
While there are plenty of serious Christmas songs that speak to the hope that Jesus offers at Christmas, (See my picks from 2020 and 2016) this year’s picks are new additions to my Christmas rotation, and they’re delightfully silly.

21. All I Want for Christmas is You My Chemical Romance
Have you ever imagined the overplayed Mariah Carey single as an emo song? Well, wonder no more. This one opens beautifully with a “Welcome to the Black Parade”-esque piano, and breaks into that holiday pining in full emo glory.
MCR has been making a comeback this year, after all.

22. I Don’t Know What Christmas Is (But Christmastime Is Here)The Old 97’s
Now imagine the cultural Christmas festivities viewed from the anthropological perspective of aliens. This gem, from the Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday Special is a hilarious mish-mash of all of the secular Christmas lore — Santa, elves, chestnuts, glowing deer, you name it. The version in the Disney+ television special has Chris Pratt’s Star-Lord interjecting every few seconds with “No!,” which is exactly how accurate the aliens’ understanding is, but it makes for a great holiday song.
It’s like Matt Thiesen of Relient K wondering “What’s a partridge, what’s a pear tree? I don’t know so please don’t ask me; But I can bet those are terrible gifts to get.” in their version of the Twelve Days of Christmas, but even more misled.

Seven Songs For Christmas 2020

It’s “Christmas all over again.” Un-coincidentally the name of the title track off the Christmas album that the Goo Goo Dolls put out this year. But it’s been one of the strangest of years, filled with so much upheaval, tension, isolation, you name it. It was a year that warranted starting the Christmas music early. Because Lord knows, I needed it.

So, after many many hours of listening, I present to you my authoritative Christmas song picks for this year.
(YouTube links have graciously been provided for you heathens who don’t have Spotify 😊).

1. “Baby Son” – John Mark McMillan


John Mark McMillan – “Baby Son” – YouTube

We thought You’d come with a crown of gold
A string of pearls and a cashmere robe
We thought You’d clinch an iron fist
And rain like fire on politics

But without a sword, no armored guard
But common born in mother’s arms
The government now rests upon
The shoulders of this Baby Son

In a year marked by chaos and divisiveness in the realm of American politics, this song really makes me marvel at the meekness of Jesus. I love how this song pulls from Isaiah 9, that wonderful list of all the things that Jesus would be: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, and that the government would be on His shoulders. It’s been a year that I’ve longed to see Jesus’s reign and rule now, but in this season I’m reminded that Jesus didn’t come to rule by force, but by coming in the weakness of a baby, and then laying down his life to bring us hope for an unshakeable kingdom to come.

2. “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”
– For King & Country feat. NEEDTOBREATHE

for KING & COUNTRY- O Come, O Come Emmanuel – YouTube

In one word, EPIC. This rendition takes an already-fantastic song about anticipating the arrival of the savior, and you add in Bear Rineheart’s piercing vocals. Just wow. With the layered vocals and the percussion, it all builds into something that’s hauntingly beautiful. Do yourself a favor and give it a listen.

3. “Refugee King” – Liz Vice

Liz Vice – Refugee King – YouTube 

Absolutely beautiful song. It parallels the more popular “Away in a Manger” lyrics, but recounts the flight of Mary and Joseph to Egypt. May we remember the escape from Bethlehem that followed soon after the Christmas journey to Bethlehem. May we remember our Jesus who stands with the outcast, the harassed, and the hurting because He has walked in their shoes.

4. “Better Days” – The Goo Goo Dolls

Goo Goo Dolls – Better Days – YouTube

This is it. 2020 was the year I discovered The Goo Goo Dolls, and what a wonderful surprise to get a Christmas album from them this year! I didn’t think of “Better Days” as a Christmas song until they released this track, but it fits unimaginably well. Particularly for this year. It’s been a year that just keeps coming at us, when all we want is better days. If you know me, I have a special distaste for kids singing, (children’s choirs most specifically), but there’s something magical about this track that captures hopeful innocence.

So take these words
And sing out loud
‘Cause everyone is forgiven now
‘Cause tonight’s the night the world begins again

This song so wonderfully reminds me of the grand beauty of Christmas, that it was the night that “one poor child came to save this world,” to offer forgiveness to everyone. A night that the world was forever changed, a new beginning from our broken path as a human race.

5. “Far Away” – The National Parks

The National Parks || Far Away – YouTube

So I discovered this track in July, just casually listening to The National Parks as part of my indie repertoire, and after a few listens, I thought “wow, this sounds an awful lot like a Christmas song!”. And behold, it was.
I just love how it recounts the elements of the Christmas story, all of these things that feel so very “far away”. But with tender simplicity (and beautiful touches of strings!), this song makes all those things feel “a little closer today” in this Christmas season.

6. “Christmas Tree Farm” – Taylor Swift

Taylor Swift – Christmas Tree Farm – YouTube

2020 has been THE YEAR of Taylor Swift. Gracing our pandemic-shaken world with not one, but two surprise albums that are both absolutely amazing…
Anyways, this song is so delightfully jingly, a nice escape from the really heavy stuff of this year.

7. “The Christmas Party”
– The Goo Goo Dolls feat. The Union Square 5

Goo Goo Dolls – The Christmas Party – YouTube

Have I, by any chance, mentioned The Goo Goo Dolls’ Christmas album?
Anyways, I’ll finish off with this fun little track. It’s the perfect jazzy medley for a Christmas party… (if we could have one this year…. But anyhow,) It evokes warm cozy Charlie Brown Christmas vibes and I love that.

So with that, Merry Christmas all! Happy listening!

To See & Know & Love.

20200704

You cannot truly love that which you do not truly know.

Has a stranger ever told you that they love you?  Or a passing acquaintance?
Now compare that to those words from a best friend, or a parent—someone who has seen you at your best moments and your worst.  Someone who has experienced just about every facet of you—your kindness, your playfulness, your dedication, but also perhaps your impatience, your selfishness, your cruelty.  To have at times admired you, but at other times been hurt by you, to have forgiven you, and never have given up on you—that is the one who truly loves you.

So what does it mean to love your country?  Are we in love with an America that exists only in our minds?  Do we love an America with a history of heroes, a nation that has always been right and just, or do we see America’s lofty ideals together with its checkered past?

I believe we have come to a time of reckoning—reckoning with the airbrushed American narrative, a narrative full of thanksgiving feasts and intrepid explorers instead of the violent and bloody erasure of indigenous peoples, a narrative full of successful immigrant stories rather than a history of exclusion acts and internment camps, and a narrative in which slavery wasn’t so bad after all.  There are some wonderful principles that America stands for, ideals that the country was founded upon: democracy, liberty, justice, determination, public education for all, to name a few.  But we MUST acknowledge the ways America has failed to live up to these ideals, in the ugly history of genocide, slavery, and racism, and the ways that legacy continues on today.

For to love an idealized version, a fantasized apparition of someone is vastly different from loving them.  Love is seeing someone’s flaws, mistakes, and downright ugliness, and caring enough to grab them by the shoulders and say “I want so much better for you.”  Love takes us as we are, but desires not that we remain as we are, but longs to transform us into something far more lovely.

Perhaps the recent wave of iconoclasm has been a call to shatter the facade that we call America, and to see and address the rot that lies beneath.  Not to destroy the structure, but to build it stronger, truer to what it was meant to be.  When the facade of perfection shows its cracks, there are two temptations: to defend and repair the facade itself at all costs, or to immolate or abandon the structure entirely in search of one that is commensurate to our capacity for wonder.

But love is not apathy, nor is it flattery.  I think of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German pastor who had escaped to the US, far from the horrors of Nazi Germany.  And yet he loved Germany enough leave the safety of the US, to go back and fight for the German people to wake up and see the blood on their hands, and to truly repent.  He loved Germany enough to decry its evil and call it to a higher standard.  This kind of love, this sort of patriotism, cost Bonhoeffer his life.

Will we be like Bonhoeffer, refusing to bow to blind nationalism, but daring to call a country it to live up to its name?  To love a country is to love its people, to fight for their flourishing.  Not a battle to defend an idealized illusion, but a fight to “defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked” (Psalm 82:3-4, NIV), until this country becomes one in which all are affirmed in the “self-evident” truth that they are created equal in the image of God, equally deserving of life and freedom and justice*.

The Declaration of Independence was made on July 4, 1776, but it was not until the Treaty of Paris was signed on September 3, 1783, that America truly became independent. It was a hard-fought war—one might even say a revolution—that stood between the declaration and the winning of independence. In the same way, perhaps we are still fighting to become America, to grow more and more into who we say we are, a land of liberty and justice for ALL.



(*Black lives matter.  Black lives matter because all lives matter to God.  More thoughts on this to come, hopefully.)


Another great read that I didn’t manage to weave in:
The full text of Frederick Douglass’ “What, to the Slave, Is the Fourth of July?” speech, in which he calls 1852 America (and Christianity) to live up to its principles and purposes, a word that is in many ways just as prophetically relevant to us today.

8 Tips for Generous Giving

Much like the content of this post, the credit cards in this image are totally bogus.

In about two weeks, United States taxes are due, so in the spirit of tax season and sound financial advice, I present to you an eight-fold path to generous giving:

1. Never give more than you can get back in tax returns.

You can always have too much of a good thing, and that includes giving!  In order to protect us and our wallets from too much charity, the US government has put some limits on the amount we can deduct from our taxes.  Plus, they give us a nice big standard deduction, to save us the trouble of itemizing—or even giving in the first place!  Essentially, if you’re giving less than the standard deduction, you might as well not give at all.  Reducing your taxable income, that’s the point of giving after all, right?
Which leads us to our second tip…

2. Give to get.

The end goal of giving is to get something back. It’s basic economics.
Trust me, no one would give to their Public Broadcasting Service if they didn’t send out cool perks like Downton Abbey DVDs or to any other B-rate nonprofit if they didn’t send out all those free return address labels.
Even the Bible, in Galatians 6:7, says this: “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.”  And so it goes with giving.  God can’t or won’t give you what you want until you give him the venture capital he needs to give you your best life now.  Getting doesn’t happen without giving, and giving doesn’t happen without getting!

3. Make sure everyone knows how much you give.

“Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor!” (Luke 19:8a)
One of the best things you can get out of giving is the approval and possible envy of others.  So capitalize on it!  Give your offerings in coins so they can jingle their way into the offering plate, for all to hear.  If you must give by check, make sure it’s one of those oversized novelty checks that you can drag to the altar like Jesus dragging his cross towards Calvary.

4. Only give money.

In the same way that “time heals all hurts” or “love covers all wrongs”, it is true that money does all things.  Why volunteer your time or skills or muscles, when money can do it?  If you really think about it, there really isn’t a ministry in the church that can’t be done by money, or a problem in the world that can’t be solved by throwing more cash at it.  Children’s ministry?  Dollar bills will do it.  They say “In God We Trust” after all.  What more instruction do the little ones need?  Missions?  Just send cash. Nothing preaches the gospel like a big stack of Benjamins.  Injustice? Just a little cash could tip the scales of justice in the right direction!  World hunger? Pennies will provide the dietary copper they need.  And paper money really does have an astronomically high fiber content.

5. Deduct “ministry expenses”.

Tithing is like taxes. You want to give enough to not have anyone come knocking at your door, but otherwise as little as possible. Our solution: “Ministry expenses”—they’re like tax exemptions but so much better.  Let me explain how they work:
Got coffee on the way to church? Ministry expense.  Lunch after church? Ministry expense.  Got a fresh new set of wheels to get you to church? Ministry expense for sure.
In the end, you’re really doing God a favor by lavishing upon yourself what He was eventually going to lavish upon you.  You’re saving him the time and effort, cutting out the middle man and avoiding all the excess shipping and handling fees.  Efficiency at its best.

6. Procrastinate.

If you didn’t learn how to procrastinate in high school or college, you have your chance here and now.  Because the best time to give is “later.”  What can make a difference today, can probably make a difference tomorrow, or fifty years into the future.  You can wait until you have a well-paying job, or until you have enough to buy a house, or until your kids finish with college, or until you know for sure that you have enough to retire comfortably.  You might make it to the very end of your life without giving, at which point you can just give whatever leftover funds that you didn’t use during your life.  God will surely be pleased with that.

7. You can always give on credit.

If you still want to give today, we have several financing offers available, including one with 0% APR for the next 24 months.  As Americans, we buy most things on credit.  We love instant gratification and delayed consequences. So why not enjoy the favor of God today and pay for it later (or never)?
Also, why give your money when you can give money from the banking powers that be?  Be like Robin Hood, taking from the undeserving rich and greedy, and giving to the poor and needy!  You’d be helping the poor by giving them money and helping the rich by saving them from their sin of having money.

8. Remember, God loves you in direct proportion to what you give.

Enough said.  That’s the whole point of the story in Mark 12:41-44, of the crowds and the rich dumping money into the temple treasury, and the poor widow who barely gave anything.  Jesus obviously preferred the former over the latter!
Or perhaps I got it all backwards…

 



April Foosday!  Or two weeks from Tax Day, whichever way you see it!

I hope by this point you’ve smelled something very, very fishy with this post.  It is, of course, my poor attempt at satire, part of my almost-annual tradition of publishing some heretical trash on April 1 in the name of this fine holiday.  Please do the exact opposite of these “tips for generous giving.”
If you were in any way interested in my previous April Fools’ Day posts, they can be found here and here.  And finally, if you wanted some of my actual thoughts on giving, I wrote this a number of years ago: Gold and Silver Have I None

Returning Redeemed

Sin.  It sneaks up on you.  It really does.  Sometimes it pounces upon you suddenly, and sometimes it slithers its way into your heart.  Either way, the aftermath is much the same, waking up to the devastating reality of your brokenness as you ask yourself, “Here? How did I end up here again?”  In that moment, you hate your sin, you really do. You’re fully disgusted by the extent of your treason and the ruin it has brought you.  You hope, even promise yourself that you won’t do it again, that you won’t be here again.  But that’s what you said the last time…

Trust me, I know this cycle all to well, and I’ve been here more times than I’d like to count.  But now that we are here, what next?  Where do we go from here?  How do we go on?  How do we return to a place that we’ve seen ourselves fall so many times, and somehow hope that we don’t fall into the same sin we always do?  I’ve been contemplating this question for well over a year now.

Because my first instinct is to run—to avoid the conditions and circumstances that led to my act of sin.  Which is not a bad instinct at all, for the Bible itself advises us to “flee the evil desires of youth” (2 Tim. 2:22).  There is prudence in avoiding temptation.  But running only gets us so far.  If we spend our lives avoiding temptation, we will quickly find that there is no place on earth that is safe, for sin seems to follow us everywhere we go.

During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus suggests something even more drastic.  He says “If your eye causes you to sin, tear it out…And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off” (Matt. 5:29-30).  A pastor of a church I used to attend once quipped, “If Christians really took the Bible seriously, why don’t we see more Christians walking around without a hand or an eye?”

If only the battle against sin was as easy as plucking out an eye or slicing off a hand!  We’re only deceiving ourselves if we think that these would solve our sin problem.  Surely we would find some way to sin without that eye or that hand!  Later on in Matthew, Jesus points out the true source of our sin: our hearts.   He says, “For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander.  These are what defile a person” (Matt. 15:19-20a).

But in so many ways, drastic action feels safer.  The repentance montage in my mind is of saints of old tearing their clothes and sitting in sackcloth and ashes, of men defenestrating their computers—CRT monitors and all, of women finally dumping that boyfriend who distracts them from their walk with Christ.  We think that by cutting ourselves off from the stimulus to sin or the resources to sin, we would indeed sin no more.

But there are a couple of flaws to this approach:

First, it assumes our sins of omission are any less grievous than our sins of commission.  We think that a day spent not doing anything bad is a day without sin, when it’s far more than that.  If I cut off hand to keep myself from stealing, I am at the same time keeping myself from using that hand to serve another.  If I cut out my tongue to obey God’s commandments to not lie or gossip, I end up disobeying His instructions to use my tongue to praise Him or encourage a sister.  If I completely avoid my brother so I will never act out of impatience and anger, I sin by choosing distance and apathy, the opposite of the love that Jesus commands us to show one another.  Romans 6:13 has two parts: To “not go on presenting the members of your body to sin as instruments of unrighteousness” and also to present “your members to God as instruments for righteousness.”  To obey only one is still disobedience.*1

Second, this sort of drastic detachment is a binary, black-and-white approach unsuitable for a world that is much more gray.  I think this is particularly true in the areas where we experience what St. Augustine calls “disordered love,” when we make idols out of good things—a job, a spouse, a place, an asset.  These are things that we cannot, or perhaps should not, leave.*2  As an extreme example, suppose a husband found that his marriage was becoming a priority over his pursuit of the Lord, surely divorce would not be the correct course of action.  Or if a mother found herself elevating the demands of her children over the commands of God, surely the solution would not be leaving them on the side of the road.  Every so often God does indeed call us—like Abram or Lot, Elisha or Peter—to leave our country and people and father’s house, to drop our nets, and follow Him.  But often like the man in Mark 5, we beg Jesus to let us follow Him to a new place, but His call is to follow Him in the place He finds us, the very place we are.  Perhaps this is the harder call—to follow Jesus in a world where nothing much has changed…

…nothing and yet everything.  Because what takes place when we follow Jesus, is not a drastic external change, but a far more profound internal change: our hearts.
After all, it’s our hearts that are the root of our problem—our hearts that so quickly turn “good” into “god” and seep sin out of any orifice they can find.  Nothing short of a heart transplant can save us.  And this is exactly what God administers.  In Ezekiel 36:26-27, He says this:

“…I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.”

The beauty of the gospel is this: Because our hardened hearts are incapable of anything but sin, incapable of loving God as we ought to, God gives us a new heart and a new spirit—His Spirit who empowers us to live a righteous life.  But much like a physical heart transplant, our spiritual heart transplant required the death of the giver: Jesus, who took on the full extent of death, so that we might have fullness of life.  To free us from the bondage of sin, He himself was bound and led to the cross to die.  And when He rose to life again, brought us with Him.
Why?  Because He so loved us, even while we were yet sinners and enemies of God.

So in light of this, what does repentance look like?  How do we battle the sin that seeks to enslave us and keep us from living in freedom and fellowship with God and others?

Repentance comes when, by the conviction of the Holy Spirit, we see the extent and absolute grievousness of our sin, from which comes an absolute determination to turn away from the things He hates, and yet a sober realization that nothing external will ever be able to cure our lust for them.  We often think of repentance in terms of doing or not doing, but in her book Openness Unhindered*3, Rosaria Butterfield writes that “Repentance is not just a conversion exercise. It is the posture of the Christian. . . .” (27).  It is a posture of humility and submission, relying on not our own strength to fight for obedience against sin, but God’s.  Paul, in Romans 7 describes this struggle so clearly: “For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing…Who will deliver me from this body of death!?”

Jesus. Sweet Jesus.
What we could not accomplish in our weak, weak flesh, God did by sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, so that the righteous requirement of the law would be fulfilled in us who walk not according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit, who dwells in us!  (Romans 8:3-4,11, lightly paraphrased and smashed into one run-on sentence).

And as long as we walk this earth, we’ll constantly be tempted to re-form the idols we’ve smashed.  And we may one day find that idol sitting right back on the pedestal from which we cast it down.  We may wake up one morning to find ourselves in bed with the pet sin that we thought we had killed.  We may find our fingers curled tight around things that we thought we had given up long ago.

Then once again we will place into the Savior’s pierced hands, these things, these weights and sins that clings so closely, and He will drown them in the ocean of His grace, so we might run with endurance the race set before us, fixing our eyes on Him alone.  For, as Romans 6:14 declares, sin no longer has dominion over us, for we are not under the law but under grace!  While I long for the day that we no longer live in the presence of temptation and sin, I can rest in the victory of Christ over the power of sin, in His defeat of my slavery and shame and separation from God.  I may lose each battle with sin, but the war is already won at the cross.

“It is finished.”  It is finished indeed.

 


Sidenotes and postscripts:

I really did my best not to copy the entirety of Romans 6-8 into this post.  I realized halfway into writing this that the Bible already said pretty much everything I was going to say. But to quote the words of Pontius Pilate completely out of context, “What I have written I have written” (John 19:22).
– KT

*1 A caveat: I am in NO way insinuating that people with disabilities are guilty of sin for not doing things that they physically cannot do.  My point is only that the voluntary removal body parts neither cures sin nor brings us any closer to true obedience to Christ.

*2 A second caveat: As always, in speaking about divorce and the Bible’s prohibition thereof, I am not talking about abusive relationships.  Leaving is the correct course of action in such a situation because staying endangers the abused and enables the abuser to carry on without facing any consequences.

*3 I HIGHLY recommend this book.  Extremely gospel-centered and well-written–by a former English professor!), Rosaria Butterfield makes the case for why the Christian must place his or her identity fully in Christ, living in a posture of repentance and obedience, as she clearly addresses sexuality in a compassionate, yet uncompromising way.

Becoming a Bit More Purple

Totally irrelevant sidenote, but I kid you not, these are the best gummy bears ever. I buy them by the pound and eat them by the handful.

Two years ago, it was 2016, and we were in the throes of a critical election season. It was a violently polarized time in America, as two very controversial candidates battled for the presidency. When November came around, I watched in horror with my fellow university students as county by county, state by state, the nation turned a solid red. I then penned a piece called “Dear America,” in which I lamented the choices of my fellow Americans. Appalled, I wondered, “Why would anyone vote for Trump?”

In the time since that election and the subsequent inauguration, daily life has remained quite unchanged, despite the initial uproar over the Trump election. For the most part, the nation has not erupted into chaos, or bloodshed, or revolution. And I like to think I’ve repented a bit. I wouldn’t call myself a Trump supporter, by any means. I still disagree strongly with many of the policies he champions and the ideologies he represents. But I’ve come to see the humanity in those who used to be “the enemy”, those who I had decried as racist and unchristian, the absolute worst people ever (read this with the voice of a melodramatic, whiny teenager).

(I was discussing this article with a friend who pointed out that the Trump presidency has had some very devastating consequences for certain people, particularly those who have to live under the dark cloud of anxiety over the threat of deportation from Trump’s harsh immigration policies and in the climate of anti-immigrant sentiment that the Trump administration has endorsed.  Being unaffected by the Trump presidency is a level of privilege that many do not have. – KT Nov 12, 2018)

In the time since, I’ve been to Oregon and have started listening to podcasts, two unrelated developments which have helped to peel off the layers of blinding bias and given me a glimpse of life outside the little liberal bubble in which I live.

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To Explain But Never Excuse

savelelbreh

Love ’em or hate ’em, personality tests are here to stay.

The widespread obsession began with the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator–MTBI for short–with its four-letter codes that constantly demanded an explanation of the binary categories they represented.  And then in the past few years, the ages-old Enneagram appeared on the popular scene, with its even-harder-to-explain nine personality types and seemingly endless complexities.  Of course, there’s more: There’s the Big Five (OCEAN/CANOE), a set of factors that form a taxonomy of personality that is more commonly accepted within the psychology community than the Myers-Briggs, which is often dismissed as pseudoscience.  There’s the HBDI, the Hermann Brain Dominance Instrument, a system that expands on the supposed left-brain, right-brain dichotomy and seems to be used mostly in corporate settings, which is where I learned of its existence.  There’s the classic Rorschach inkblot test.  You could even throw in Gary Chapman’s Five Love Languages into this category.

And they’re great tools for understanding ourselves and each other.  They give us a way to put words to the unique way we experience the world, a set of slightly more concrete concepts to help describe something as abstract as personality.  My personal favorite, of course, is the Enneagram.  I think it does a much better job of explaining why we do what we do, the core desires and fears that drive us.  Myers-Briggs, on the other hand, does an excellent job of describing our external behaviors and tendencies in the way we interact with the world and each other, and it is particularly helpful for learning how to work together in a corporate or leadership setting.  But what fascinates me is that two people with the exact same Myers-Briggs type can have completely different Enneagram types, and vice versa.  Different core motivations resulting in similar external behavior.

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