One of my favorite comebacks over the last few years has been, “But you know that I’m STRAIGHT EDGE, right?” I would particularly say this after drinking (or the insinuation of drinking) too many beers. Haha — I got a laugh or two from the few people who know what I meant when I said this. Just a joke, right?

Now I’m really not straight edge or old school or punk or anything of that nature, but lately I’ve been thinking about this. One of the resolutions that I made this year (other than blogging on a semi-regular basis) was to go out more often, see some live music, actually accept invitations to purely social events. I’ve done pretty well so far, but I’ve started being concerned about the levels to which we are intoxicating ourselves. A lot of people I’ve met along this road of excess have dedicated most of their free time and resources to the search for the perfect way to numb themselves through alcohol, marijuana, sex — you name it. Some may say they’re trying to live more. I don’t know, and I’m not saying that I’m immune or morally more upright than anyone. In my case, my particular anesthetics are fast food, herbal tea, energy drinks, and video games. Ultimately, though, in matters of behavior and thought, I live by the idea that it’s their lives and their decision how to live it. Similarly, as long as I’m not harming anyone or causing others to not attempt to follow their bliss, it’s entirely my decision how to live my life and what to think.

The conclusion that I’ve come to (for now, that’s the end of a chapter, and not necessarily the end of the entire book) has been to look around me. There’s so much wrong with the world, and it seems that we’re only repeating the same mistakes that lead to war, rape, genocide, and a host of other undesirable states of being. Maybe this is all a symptom of something larger and more insidious or even something so obvious that we should all see it. If doing what humans have been doing for thousands of years has caused these problems, maybe I should do the opposite (or at least something substantially different).

So, I’ll cut back on the beer — it isn’t good for my liver anyway. I’ll pass on smoking so much — not good for my lungs. I’ll refrain from mind altering substances and try to feel the world around me, maybe meditate a bit more than I usually do (which will probably make me more popular with the Krishnacore crowd than I already am). I can’t commit to limiting myself to one genre of music, but since pop music today tends to advocate collectivism and doing what everyone else is doing, I might try it. I’m not sure about sex, since I’m keeping the rock-n-roll part of the “sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll” trinity. Refraining from sex AND drugs would make me some sort of musical unitarian, and that would be too weird. I think John Tesh might be some sort of musical unitarian, but I’m starting to digress.

Anyway, like I said, I’m not straight edge. I’ll probably never be anywhere close to straight edge. But while I may never be straight edge, at least it won’t be a joke anymore.

I’m not really into giving more significance to time than is minimally required for me to get by in this world. Seriously, we seem to miss the point of most things due to the clock in every room, the multitude of calendars adorning our workspace, as well as the passing of light and dark from season to season. This Easter, though, has marked an important stretch of time that has been weighing on my thoughts for awhile. Of personal note, this will have been my thirty-second Easter. Easter has usually been within a few weeks of my birthday, so that’s always been an association. Spiritually and theologically speaking of unique and special spans of time, this ultimate period for me has always start in October of the previous year and encompasses the October holidays, the Christmas holiday season, the new opportunities we all hope for during the early part of the New Year, and Easter’s usual accompaniment of Spring’s full realization. This year, Easter #32 will lead to birthday #33, which in a Christian sense is a personal milestone to me. I never thought I would get this far — as old as the Master, so to speak. So, I’ve been doing a lot of reflection lately about how I got here, what I’ve really accomplished, and what I should shoot for with the rest of my time. I know, it *SOUNDS* kind of deep, but it’s probably just a string of tiny things that look really big when put together. More of this will no doubt be forthcoming in future posts.

While such a momentous occasion deserves a special Easter address, I would instead direct readers who’ve not yet come down from their Peep-induced sugar high to check out my recently-imported “classic” post from August 16th, 2006 entitled “The Secret Meaning of Easter.” Even though there’s a few theological points I’ve mellowed on over the last few years, I think it’s a great read that captures some of the things we routinely miss about why Easter is so special.

I had hoped to never be forced to watch Mel Gibson’s “Passion of the Christ” by a well-meaning believer. Tonight my luck ran out on me. Well, sort of. I left the room within the first half-hour or so. As a person of faith (that’s Christianity, not whatever bizarre S&M-based religion Mel Gibson apparently practices), I don’t blame anyone for watching the film. I will blame people for failing to remember the cardinal rule of movie watching — if it’s a story based on a book, read the book — it’s always much better. That’s definitely true in this case. Specifically there’s a lot of dramatic representation that rubs non-Catholics the wrong way. For the record, I’m not saying that this is wrong or not (although I definitely have my opinions). Biblical literacy being what it is now-a-days, though, I suspect most people will have accepted the dramatic license as being accurate Scripturally-speaking.

Additionally, many have claimed (and will continue to claim) that the violent depiction of Jesus’ torture and crucifixion has strengthened their personal faith and commitment in being a Christian. Without appearing to support “the ends justify the means” ideology, this is a good thing. However, the real peril is that such thinking places too much emphasis on the bizarre way Jesus died (to us in this place and time, since crucifixion was quite common in those times). In reality, that was just a brief snapshot of the amazing thirty-three years of this man’s life. In his life, he did things that we all do — loved, laughed, feared, and cried. He also taught some of the simplest, yet right-to-the-point teachings the world has ever heard. Focusing too much on scourging, pools of blood, and crowns of thorns causes us to miss the final lesson going on right in front of our eyes — the conquest of death, the powers of this world, and any piss-ant trouble life can throw at you.

A couple hours after leaving the room, I came back to find out well the rest of the movie was received. Hope said it was only two stars. I questioningly joked, “You didn’t like ‘The Passion’?” like so many people have done as if not liking a movie was a problem associated with a person’s level of faith (particularly as in South Park’s parody of people’s reaction to this movie). As long as we remember that transient things like film and fashion do not indicate faith in those things that are permanent and ultimate, we can surely feel free to disagree on Mel Gibson’s vision and interpretation of Jesus’ message and still explore and experience the deep meaning of the Christian faith. Not only is that a five star rating, but that’s a free drink and up-size on the tub of popcorn.