China and free will

So, I learned a little something about God giving us free will while watching the Olympics last night. The finals of the 30m platform diving was on, and the TV spin machine was pitting the 15 year old Chinese diver against the much older American diver. Now of course, there has been some press about the Chinese gymnasts and their age, but what stretch my mind every time is when the sport expert, the commentator hired by the network, discusses the training of many of the Chinese athletes, no matter what age. They talk with glee, almost jealously, about how Chinese children, once they are determined to be of correct body type and ability, are taken from their families at ages of 3 and 4, placed in government run sports prisions, and trained relentlessly for years until they reach optional performance capability. Hence the pressure to have under aged girls compete in the gymnastics. They were at there scientific peak, and in four more years would be no good to the country, there for they must compete now. a little photo shop and and we have "official Chinese passports." Any way, these commentators are so caught up in competition and their own little sport, they fail miserably to see the larger picture. Flash to the American diver, making her last competition dives of her career. she was grinning ear to ear before every jump. and when her last belly flop was done, tears ran down her face with the emotion of having ended her career. Now, the Chinese diver did take first and the American not so much, but look at the larger picture. This little girl, taken from her family, drilled and trained not to let her country down or she would be a failure for life, performed a robotic and technically perfect series of dives, and won. The American was trying just as hard, but basking in the joy of doing what you love and eating up the moment for all it was worth. The gold medalist had to scrape the smile off of her face, because that would not be acceptable for her country, while the American let her emotions flow. It really made me realise how much free will means to us as humans when it comes to God. Yes, he could have indoctrinated us with unfailing love, and we would all perform robotic and technically perfect series of praise and worship services on earth and then die with a gold medal. Or he can let us come as we can, and perform not quite as well, but perform out of our hearts, and it is beautiful. I would not trade all the gold medals in the world that were won out of robotic obedience for just one that come from the love of the sport.

Skipping II (crashing a family reunion and staying for the pie)

So our saga of Church shopping continues. after a few weeks of trying the other popular mega Churches in town, we began to tire of roast preacher for lunch. I have a good friend who i talked with about our church frustrations and he recommended his home church, he said it would be a good fit. so we finally gave it a try. This church happens to be part of the IAC, or international Anglican church family. From what i understand, the Anglican church of Rwanda saw that the American church was really suffering and needed help. so they sent missionaries to the u.s. to plant Churches. yes, African missionaries coming to the states. pretty cool in my book. Any way, we find the church, which meets in a monastery (not really the brother cadfile type of monastery, more the 1970's post office kind of monastery) and found our way to the auditorium. It was apparent right away that this was a different kind of Church. I had been to an Anglican service twice before, once in Shang Hi and once in Jerusalem, but in those settings, different was expected and not as much of a shock. The whole thing really had a familial feel about it. People wandered in during praise time, people dressed from very formal to short pants. the preacher/priest/brother had the black shirt and white collier, with levies and sandals. different. the service was divided into two equal halves, the sermon and the communion. during the sermon, kids were in the nursery, during communion, every one was involved. different. and even we got amber back and she started making her little baby noises, not a head turned, it was normal. different. the service had a lot of readings, and symbolic stuff, but it seamed like people understands that ceremonies stood for something, and were not the point in them selves. different. so all this different kind of took me back, but as i thought more about it, that was just the kind of thing that i was looking for. we both really liked it, there were a good number of people from our tribe there (thirty somethings with chacos and Subaru's) and a good number of the Christan mental health community from the springs. so we will see. it seams that there are still some people doing Church for some of the right reasons in this town. we will not be attending this Sunday, as we have to drive up to Denver, in the middle of the Democratic convention, to attend a birthday party for two children who will never know we were there.