Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Day 6 - Friday Part 1

Let the Sun Shine

We started the week with a goal of fabricating two mounting assemblies, install them on the roof of one of the Casa buildings, and finally mount 5 solar panels to each of the assemblies. We can say that most of the goal was achieved.


If we look at just the raw math, there are now 6 panels in place which would be 60 percent of the goal, or just above the average of most high proficiency exams. While that does not sound very close to the goal, the bulk of the time and energy for the week was spent designing and fabricating the assemblies to provide the perfect 15 degree tilt toward the south and to compensate for the 3.5 degree cross slope of the roof.


Finally, the assemblies had to be disassembled, transported to the upper end of the property, an elevation change seemingly on order of scaling Mount Fuji but which when measured was only 100 feet, then piecewise carried along a narrow goat trail and crossing the Gulch of Death* to provide access to the roof where they would ultimately be reassembled and mounted before the panels installed.


Of course, there were delays with getting additional material and tools, scheduling of other events within Village of Hope, and yes, the re-fabricating of a frame when it was realized that it had been started correctly and then purposefully changed only to find out after finish welds were done that the haze of sleep deprived nights that had absolutely nothing to do with the neighboring dog pound took its toll and allowed the assembly to be fabricated not as its benevolent original design but rather as the evil mirror twin that had to be cut apart with tools not intended for the task so it could be reassembled correctly. All that griping is solely to make the case that while only 6 out of ten panels were actually installed, the work completed accounted for no less than 40 man-hours while the work remaining to mount the final four panels should only take one man-hour. Using this much more advantageous and self-gratifying math yields that we accomplished over 98 percent of the goals.


Unfortunately, were not able to get Village of Hope to sign a change-order for the scope change so our usual project bonuses were not realized. In the very competitive arena of volunteer work in far away countries in uncomfortable surroundings, Village of Hope will have another team coming in the next week to take over the project and who will start by finishing our two percent remaining. Still, all said, there were great views from the Casa building roof but Gordon and Andy will not miss rolling around on a hot tin roof.


We are grateful to be part of the start of what we hope will be many more solar panels for Village of Hope. Todd’s shared that his ultimate goal is something on the order of 80 panels to reduce the expensive electrical bill. This man thinks big! Tired and satisfied, we say Let the Sun Shine! - Gordon and Andy

* [Editor’s note: The “Gulch of Death” is a narrow chasm with an estimated 18-ft vertical drop next to the Casa. It is wise to avoid stepping into it.]

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Day 5 - Thursday

 “My favorite moment of this week was time I spent today with one of the girls who attends high school outside of VOH. As she arrived home today she was willing to sit with me and show me her books. My teacher mode kicked in, I confess.  One class is for shorthand! When I discovered she was learning English, we looked over some of her work. I was able to explain a few concepts she was working on and help her with some pronunciations. She was a good sport to carry on the conversation in mostly English telling me about her goals after she graduates. As she left to start her homework, she thanked us for coming and told me that we are a blessing to them. Such an example of their polite, gentle and warm spirits.” - Suzy



“Today I completed my hour of prayer for the kids. They had written prayer requests on cards, some with names, some without. When I first heard about the hour of prayer, I must say I found it rather daunting. A whole hour, praying! I had never prayed for more than about two minutes before today. I was considerably worried and kept thinking “I’ll do it tomorrow” or “Too bad I forgot to check the sheet today.” However, I knew that at some point I would just have to suffer through it. Or so I thought. Two nights ago, the devotion was on prayer. One of our team members talked about how we often see prayer as an “extra” thing to do, and that we often do not believe that what we pray for, God answers. One of the themes of VOH is “praying and dreaming big.” The Blocks have prayed and dreamed big and continue to, which is why VOH is here. I pray the minimum amount I have to, and my prayers are mostly something along the lines of, “Please heal this person” but then thinking that it probably won’t happen. I knew in my head it was important, but in my heart I considered it more a waste of time. However, the devotion really encouraged me. He talked about how important prayer really is, and that it is really more important than going out and trying to solve whatever you are praying about. Anyways, today I took the prayer cards and went up into our big meeting room. I sat down in a rocking chair and started going through the cards and praying. In the beginning, my prayers were rather interrupted by glancing at the clock, thinking through how long I would have to spend on each card to use up the whole hour, but I soon found that it did not help and was not needed. I actually found myself with a whole lot of cards left and fifteen minutes left. I had to rush to get through them all, spending less time on them than I wished. Several team members had mentioned during devotions different prayer requests that struck them, and I also found myself struck by the same ones. “The Lord knows my prayers. Amen” said one. There were none of the typical  prayer requests, just that simple truth. I was reminded that before we say a word, God already knows. I also read many requests asking for safety, healing, and salvation for family members, mentioning them specifically. I often think of the children as being “VOH kids” but do not think about the families and homes they left behind, whatever situations they may have been in. These kids have not forgotten, and they continue to think about their families and homes. Behind the happy faces we see playing games, there are stories and they are very much a hard reality. Reading through these cards gave me a totally new perspective. It is encouraging to see the ways in which they have grown since coming to VOH, and I am thankful  to be a part of what is going on here by praying for the needs they listed. It was really a blessing and privilege for me to be able to pray for the kids, staff, and house parents here. I am so thankful I did.” - Anon

 new paint and bedding

“Tuesday the room redecorating crew (Suzy, Linda, Christine, me, and sometimes Kelsey, and sometimes Mark) finished the first (green) bedroom -- paint and window treatment, and put one coat of blue paint in the other bedroom. Wednesday we did a final coat of blue paint and installed two window treatments. Today we mounted photo picture frames, put in the new duvets and throw pillows, touched up paint on doors and trim, fixed squeaking bunk beds, modified a toddler bed into a trundle bed, and built a bassinet stand. The rooms look very bright and breezy, and we hope it helps make their rooms happy and comfortable. Redecorating a few rooms may seem to us like a small thing, but it is hopefully a way to bless the teenage moms and their little ones.” - Neil

manual labor

more manual labor



 necklaces and bracelets made by 3 of the teenage girls this afternoon

ongoing work on the solar panels

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Cafe La Esperanza
100% Guatemalan Ground Dark Roast
$12/bag

If you would like to buy a bag of coffee, please let me know!


Day 4 Wednesday - Part 2


A Day of Learning, Labor, and…the Unexpected
by Al

“We began the day by driving to a local village and giving out food to needy families, which was certainly a multi-faceted learning experience. To get to this village, we drove down the main road (which would not win many awards of excellence from the Highway Paving Engineers Professional Society) and then turned onto a dirt road with more than the average number of ruts. We passed several fields that seemed under-utilized for agriculture or any other purpose, until we suddenly came upon a densely-packed conglomeration of houses. The road suddenly became paved again, with interlocking paving stones, and if there was a designer to this narrow main road he had a strong aversion to straight lines—in fact, he seemed to specialize in sudden hairpin turns. Our driver took these turns at about 30 MPH, fully trusting that no car would appear around the corner, and he was right because no car ever did. In fact, in Guatemala there are notably fewer cars on the roads, and many more pedestrians, along with many random dogs. Stop signs are not popular, but fortunately for pedestrians speed bumps are looked upon fondly, even on main streets.



The houses in this village should probably be more properly characterized as shacks, with tin siding, and tarps, and outhouses, and fire pits, and a few broken toys. They didn’t have running water, but, strangely, they had electricity. We went to one house that consisted of a 10-by-20-foot room that included bunk beds on one side, a double bed on the other, a small table….and a TV where the twins were watching Nick Junior in Spanish. We wanted to take their picture, but they were very reluctant to step away from the TV…kids are much the same everywhere.

When we returned to Village of Hope it was time for me to lead our two male youths, Mark and Thomas, at their work.  In this case it consisted of taking a large pile of combined dirt and rock and separating it into one pile of dirt and one pile of rock, and moving them to two different places. In other words, it was something one might do as a member of a chain gang in the deep south in the 1930’s, and the fact that we were doing this in the tropics just added to the fun. The boys were very game and worked enthusiastically, while I gave them a few samples of what to do and then supervised them very diligently from my place in the shade. The boys seemed to work pretty hard…the fact that Tom went to bed at 6:00 tonight might indicate that they did.

Mark and Thomas earthmovers inc

The last thing on our schedule was to spend time with the children in the village of Chituc. The plan was to teach them a Bible lesson, and then do games with them, and then do a craft. I was in charge of the games so I asked for a few details in advance. I was told to organize some games for them that we would play out on their “field.” Wisely, I did ask a few questions in advance about this “field.”  I was told it wasn’t a “great field,” but would “be fine.” So, I knew the field would not be 100 yards long, or even 50, and the grass might be mostly weeds, but nonetheless I thought of some fine field games, and I brought along a soccer ball (and an extra), so that we could conclude with a rousing game of soccer. It seemed like a good plan…


To get to Chituc, we turned off the main road and down another narrow road, which was paved with interlocking stones. On one side of there road was an orchard guarded by a barbed wire fence, and on the other side of the road was the village. We drove to the end of this road, which abruptly ended in a low pile of dirt on which we parked. My first clue that something was amiss was when my beloved leader, Christine, refused to get out of the van because things “didn’t look right.” We were assured that this was the right place. I stepped out of the van and looked around for my field. Where was this grassy acre where the grateful children of the village would romp and play? There was sort of a field next to our van, but it was occupied by discarded tires, deep ruts, waist-high weeds, and an area that appeared to have been burned in a bonfire. It might have been possible for a homeless person to find a place to pitch his tent, but if there was I never saw it. 

Meanwhile the expectant kids were walking our way. Across from the homeless field was a dirt area that might have served as a field, but was inexplicably surrounded by barbed wire.


To make a long story short, there was no field whatsoever. There was no possible way to do any of the games I had planned. I had to think of some new ideas. How about if we play “Escape From Prisoner-of-War Camp” and have all the kids crawl back and forth under the barbed wire? No, perhaps just a little risky. Meanwhile, Mark and Neil were doing an excellent job with their Bible story (the story of the lost coin).



In the end, I came up with the idea of relay races. I divided them into two teams and had them hop on two feet back and forth between cones, and then hop on one foot, go backwards, kick a soccer ball, bounce a soccer ball, run with a soccer ball between their legs, etc. 






Fortunately, this being a Guatemalan road, no car ever appeared to interrupt us. Finally, I had them worn out and we were able to do the craft, which consisted of a school supplies pencil pouch that they would decorate. 







In the end everything worked out wonderfully. Will I ever trust Christine again? Well, that is a story for another blog…”

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Day 4 - Wednesday Part 1

Concept-to-Reality Realized

“The solar project entered hump day with a building deficit to the original schedule.  Day One started with a bang and ended being ahead of schedule with the completion of construction of the first of two frames.  Day Two was as unproductive as Day One was productive.  Missing certain small tools that are critical in metal fabrication caused major setbacks.  Who would think that it would be so hard to drill a 5/16” diameter hole in 1/8” thick metal just because you did not have a center punch to mark the start of the hole or a fresh drill bit designed for metal drilling?  The morning of Day Two was highlighted by the statistic that it took nearly 2 hours to drill 4 holes in the first frame.  In dire need of an upgrade, we foraged another trip to town to search down the key pieces, this time taking three separate stops to procure a metal drill bit set, a metal center punch and some self-tapping screws.  A note to the uninformed: when shopping for something in a foreign land where you do not have professional level of command of the language in the speciality you are shopping for, a neat work around is to use your smart phone to do a Google image search for what you are looking for and then to select the image that is closest to your prize to show the person that is trying to help you.  This yielded a three for three success record at the hardware stores.  The afternoon of Day Two was salvaged by the new found tools and yielded 20 holes in twenty minutes, a marked improvement.

The Day Three schedule was broken up a bit with some of the more worthwhile activities of doing community food deliveries and supporting a local food business by having a group meal out.  




Still, come the start of the afternoon of Day Three we still did not have anything installed on the roof.  We disassembled the first frame and loaded it on the roof of the van along with some of the solar panels and all the tools that we thought we would need since it is not very fun to make the round trip trek from the top of the property where the panels are being installed down to the bottom of the property where the shop is.  Still, with our best planning, Andy managed to rack up 2 or three trips that afternoon.  Once all the gear had been packed up to the roof via the billy goat trail that runs along the top of the property, we were ready to assemble and mount the first frame assembly.


Andy and Edd, willingly or ignorantly, the jury is still out, agreed to help with mounting of the solar panel.  The roof that it was being mounted on is the second story roof of Casa 4 and is a bit of a challenge to navigate.  The roof is corrugated steel sheets supported by sheet metal beams that are spaced at what would be in the US unconventional, not 3 foot centers, not four foot, not even 1-meter centers but the obvious default of 42 inches.  That defines the spacing of where it is safe to step on the beams.  Stepping on other areas will not provide the support you are looking for to stay out of the upper floor bedrooms.  Now for Edd who has a long stride, stepping deftly from one beam support to the next was not too difficult.  For Andy, on the other hand, who has a significantly shorter stride, moving from one beam center to another was more of a ballet exercise in keeping with the best performances seen in the Construction Workers Union.


These two, who were not involved in the design or construction of the frame units were forced to assemble the jigsaw assembly of parts and then mount them to a roof not designed for the purpose.  Still, somehow, with patience and fortitude, they were able to make the assembly work and even mount the first solar panel in place before the day closed down.  Amazingly, everything worked as planned and only minor field modifications were necessary.  More importantly, lessons were learned that will hopefully speed the construction and installation of the second frame and may even get this project nearly complete by the end of the week.  Stay tuned.” - Gordon


“During every trip to VOH, the teams take a couple hours to go out into the neighboring village to deliver large grocery bags of staple foods to certain families. These families stand out amongst the poverty for their needs but also for their efforts to provide for themselves. The Block family and some of their staff have been building relationships with these families before any of the VOH children arrived to the children's home. 

We got to visit eight homes with varying family structures. One is a 16-year-old girl and her 12-year-old sister taking care of their very sickly and extremely petite five-year-old sister. Papa is working out in the fields for extended periods of time, and Mama works who knows where. They couldn't say. These three seem to be alone a lot.


Another house consists of Grandma and several of her 25 grandkids. She asked us to pray for one of her son's work.

The nicest home we went to is a plain cinderblock room with some beds and a TV. The two-year-old twins were completely fixated by the Nick Jr programming and cried when Mom tried to get them to turn around for a quick family photo. Some things seem to be universal.


Everyone asked for good health. They seem to not have much access to care, even though a pharmacy is just across the street. The menu of drugs and their prices are printed on a vinyl sign and hung on the cinderblock walls for all to see.


Pharmacies seem to be some of the only storefronts here that focus on one or two categories of product. Other shops are little hallways with roll-up doors that sell everything from fruit to chips to diapers to clothes. You never know what store will have what!

I'm told Guatemalans tend to shop one day at a time. They see how much money they have that day and pick up enough to get through the day. The pre-planned supermarket run for a two-week inventory apparently wouldn't work out here.

One of our Guatemalan team leaders and I enjoyed talking about the various architecture and lifestyles we observed on our food delivery. He is dating an American missionary and has heard a lot about American cultures. He happily answered my questions about contrasting American and Guatemalan economic status and tourism, etc. There's not much division between the poor and wealthy homes here. They seem rather intermixed. Also, he said that San Lucas seems to attract middle-aged Americans and Canadians who want a little more quiet, suburban, retirement spot.

On this trip and my first trip last March, nothing surprised or shocked me. I have seen plenty of photos of shacks and muddy kids with holey shirts, etc, from all around the non-Western world. Stopping by for a few minutes at these huts is not enough time for spoiled me to truly put myself in their shoes - their scuffed up, dusty shoes. I cannot imagine the daily ins and outs of living with five other people on a dust floor the size of a large walk-in closet. I just can't.

This being my second time on the food delivery trek, it was good to see that two of the families have been able to start construction on new homes on the weekends. Just scanning around the properties, I couldn't tell if anything else had changed. That's what struck me. What means of improvement are there? What hope is there for a healthier, easier life?

I tried to put myself in the place of the girls who rarely see their parents and sleep with no locks or other protection. I tried to imagine being married to an alcoholic and carrying the burdens of my family alone.

The most emotional scenario I pondered was that of Yessica. She's probably been written about a lot on this blog over the years. She is bound to a VOH-provided wheelchair. She can move her face and head in a limited manner, but that's it. She can't hold it up straight, so everything is seen from an awkward angle. Her life is sitting in a dirt lot day in and day out. I don't know if her sisters take her out for walks or what. Every time our team visits her family, she's in that little spot between her house and the neighbors'. We asked her sisters to spin the chair around so she could see us. Her whole face lit up, and she let out a happy wail. We could spend only about five minutes with her, praying over her and listening to bit of her story as team members recalled what the Blocks had told them. Were we the most exciting thing to happen to Yessica all week? What a depressing thought.


As we reflected tonight in group conversation over our visit, we landed on the plight of Yessica as well. A sigh and then silence hung in the air. I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Gordon spoke up. He said that in moments like these, it is comforting to think about eternity. This life, no matter the quality of it, is temporary. We weren't meant to be here long. As creations made in God's image, we are meant for heaven, where there is no pain or physical limit. Heaven, God's full presence away from the world's sin and curse, is our true home and our most certain hope.

I don't know why Yessica must live in that body and in that economic condition. I don't know why I am completely able and in middle-class America. I can only be thankful for what I have, do what I can for others, and trust that God knows what He's doing where he places us. My earthly comforts are only extra bonuses while here, but, as an eternal creature, my only real hope is heaven as well. Yessica and I are equal in our spiritual needs and united eternally in this way.” - Linda



Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Day 3 - Tuesday

Tonight we are going to let some pictures share our experience here in Guatemala. The kids were away at the beach so our time was primarily spent on our work projects and times of prayer. The families, including the children, at Village of Hope have prepared index cards with prayer requests for us. We can sign-up for an hour time slot to step away from the day's activities and devote ourselves to prayer. And we would also like to share a devotional that Edd prepared for us on our first full day here at Village of Hope.


sometimes you do what you have to do...

... or you borrow the ladder from the bunk bed for a stepstool

 custom-order bench seat by Edd

 solar panel frame welding by Gordon

Al taping and mudding sheetrock for the new school

Mark and Thomas excavating and backfilling at the new school

you find the funniest things in the showers in Guatemala

lunch at Pollo Campero

reading prayer requests


Life in Guatemala...







Guatemala Devotional
Colossians 2: 8: “See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy, by human deceit, according to human tradition, according to the  elemental spirits of this world, and not according to Christ.”

Intro:
Being literally thousands of miles away from home, with much of what is familiar and comfortable to me beyond my reach, and I am forced to confront my conception of reality in fresh and humbling ways. When I think about “reality”, I think about the fact that as human beings we are meaning makers, all of us; we don’t merely live in a kind of brutish relationship to the stuff of existence. Rather, it seems that we are wired to ascribe significance and purpose to even the smallest details that inform for each of us the arc of life. From the petty remark of a stranger, to the political intrigues of whole nations, we constantly seek for reasons, and in this quest we construct for ourselves a prism through which we make sense of the world. Made in the image of God, one way in which we manifest this divine imprint of meaning making is by interpreting and signifying our lived experiences, and it’s in this way that culture happens. But what is culture? Perhaps a good metaphor for culture is to think about a caterpillar’s cocoon: It is from we ourselves that the shape and substance of culture (the cocoon) comes, yet within its dome we find ourselves transformed by it.

The bad news about culture is that, like every other domain of the human project, man-made culture is disordered, having been subjected to futility when our first parents rebelled against God. But the good news is that, like every domain under the sovereign control of almighty God, as the father redeems for his own possession a people from every nation, tribe and tongue, the promise of culture rightly ordered, becomes part of the hope of the new creation.

Point 1: “See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy…”
When Paul writes to members of the church at Colossae, warning them to guard against being taken captive by philosophy, it’s in the nature of the case that such captivity can only happen with our willing participation. The phrase that Paul uses, “takes you captive”, transliterated means to lead away as booty or spoil; chiefly to seduce.

Coming to a place like Village of Hope, I become conscious of myself laboring to “get used to things” that, frankly, confront my desire to have my life “just so”. For a whole week I don’t get to have the foods that I prefer to eat (I left all my assorted hot sauces at home), my daily exercise routines will be replaced for the week with honest manual labor, and for a week I have to say goodnight to my best friend from a separate bunk. Now, might any of my whining constitute the rudiments of captivity to philosophy that Paul talks about? You bet. I’ve been fascinated by man-made philosophical formulations pretty much my whole adult life, and whether the vicious mole is idealism, existentialism, post-structuralism... whatever the –ism, at the heart of the philosophical impulse is a little totem that I like to call the prerogative of my own inclining; and I find that when we are not resisting its seductive influence this idol persuades us with the most elegant reasons to think that the motive and cue for all of life can be resolved with little more than a hot meal and a bowl of ice cream. In other words, when we consider those of whom Paul spoke when writing to the church at Philippi, we are warned when he tells how for “enemies of the cross of Christ, their end is their destruction, their god is their belly, they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things (3: 19). Such are the appetites and ends of all man-made philosophy.

Point 2: “...by human deceit…”
Human deceit is pretty tricky. Like the god of my belly, I find that I will likely fall prey to deception by feeding myself with a little nudge. For example, let’s think of how it feels to be wrong. Would you say embarrassed? Humiliated? Remorseful? But wait. The question itself is a trick that can only be successfully played on you with your help. Notice, I didn’t ask you how it feels to have been shown that you’ve been wrong, or to have the spectacle of your error put on display in front of the entire class. No, I only asked how it feels to BE wrong. In point of fact, it feels exactly the same as the way it feels to be right. The intoxicating conceit that often accompanies the feeling that we are the smartest or the most righteous person in the room is usually a pretty heady trip that results in a crash landing, unless of course we wish to park in logical cul-de-sacs with people like Friedrich Nietzsche who once said, "there are no facts, only interpretations". But feeling wrong and confessing sin are not fruit that grow on the same tree, nor are feeling right and being the righteousness of Christ two conditions that are born of the same Spirit. However right or wrong I may feel, if I arrogate to myself the power to observe all of life  through the lens of my own jaundiced eye, without taking every thought captive to the lordship of Jesus Christ, among which is the FACT I live in a real world that everywhere displays real truth and real consequence, I should expect to descend into the same kind of madness that ultimately destroyed the real life of one Friedrich Nietzsche.

Point 3: “...according to human tradition…”
Human tradition fits like a custom-made suit--when that tradition is our own. It just feels right, and when our stuff--I mean, our way of speaking, our style of dress, our taste in music or food, the games we like to play, the manner in which we prefer to worship, the features of our culture--becomes the stuff against which we weigh everybody else’s stuff, how funny it is that we inevitably find their stuff wanting. When we exchange right worship of the true and living God for the idolatry of our traditions, our culture, our way of life, etc., we offend Him who made us, and we insult the brother who bears the divine imprimatur. When we  dress our own traditions in the noble toga of words like “normal” or” right”, while the traditions of others we regard as at best “exotic”, and at worst not just a little “weird” or just plain “wrong” we make ourselves aliens to those who are most like us, and strangers to the one who put on flesh and dwelt among us. But like culture, our traditions, and those of others, are expressions of our shared existence since the Fall, and as such lie within the pathos and promise of the father’s plan of redemption.

Final Point: “...according to the elemental spirits of this world…”
Again, the prospect of spending the week at Village of Hope, Guatemala forces within me a confrontation with myself. Coming to a place where the simple mandate to love with unselfconscious and unreserved sacrifice demands the spiritual maturity to know that I, as yet, know nothing--at least, I possess no knowledge as I ought to, if I suppose by the rood of my own righteousness or armed with my own powers of reason that I may somehow raise myself on hind legs to dialog with my maker as His moral equal. In back of the enormity of the work which God has prepared for me to do, and behind the dignity to be restored to lives to whom the kingdom belongs, there stands the God who dwells in unapproachable light before whom, like Job, I must say “Behold, I am of small account what shall I answer you? I lay  my hand over my mouth (40: 4).” It’s like in the movie, Cool Hand Luke, when Luke, a Vietnam vet whose life has stalled, displays a supposedly “righteous” disregard for all forms of authority by initially cutting the heads off of parking meters, all the powers of earth and heaven coalesce in the person of Boss Keen, the prison warden, to achieve the singular goal of breaking Luke’s will, so that he “gets his mind right.”

Well, I’m not Luke with the cool hand, and no earthly or heavenly purpose hinges upon me getting my mind right. Paul’s reference to the elemental spirits of this world reminds me that Augustine was in his right mind when he said that God has made us for himself, and our heart is forever restless until it finds its rest in Him. Paul’s language  recalls the elemental spirits of this world as “first things” or that which first appears. How wretchedly easy it is for me, when fixating on those things which first appear before my gaze, to pontificate from a dubious perch about what I think God is doing in the world, when to act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with my God is more than enough reality to get me through my nights of Gethsemane.

Conclusion: “...and not according to Christ…”
Paul ends his admonition to us with the reminder that our spiritual compass points true north only when our lives are pointing to Christ. All our  ways and reasons, all our presuppositions and prerogatives must be reckoned according to Jesus Christ as the cause and context of reality. Culture, identity, and all of life’s purposes find their significance according to Christ. According to Christ, we love one another as we love ourselves, and according to Christ we must do his work in the world as heralds of the gospel, and as agents of His mercy and grace.