Supplanter.

Boredom generally overtakes me, not owing to a lack of anything to do, but due to the lack of proper location.  If I were at home right now, then I would have plenty to do.

Yesterday I was bored enough to look up the meanings of names.  James means supplanter.  Edward means wealthy guardian.  Bradley means wide meadow.  I have no clue what it means to put them all together.

I don’t know if I have ever supplanted anyone.  And I am pretty sure I’ll never be the wealthy guardian of anyone.  All I can figure is that Bradley is prophetic for where I will die or be buried or something.

I say all that for no reason at all.

However, last night I did watch “Far and Away” with some friends.  If unfamiliar to you, it is a tale of two Irish immigrants come to America seeking land and fortune.  It is a good movie.

There is one scene midway through the movie where the two main characters experience a little bit of sexual tension.  And so, in a moment of genius, the Irish scrapper gets into a few fights to release a little built up frustration.  And he turns out to be a bare-knuckle boxing champ.

I shall now attempt to turn this all spiritual.  

Recently, I was talking with a friend about Lent and fasting.  And that conversation seems somehow to relate to this Irish fighter.  The LORD says in Isaiah 58 that he doesn’t really like the fasting that is taking place.  He says that true fasting is a time to “loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free,” to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and house the homeless. (I know I’m not citing properly, but God, as the author, doesn’t care if I don’t do the APA or MLA thing)  Anyway, sorry for that there!

So here is this young Irish fella who is frustrated because of unreleased sexuality.  He turns to boxing.  Now we may be inclined to pass judgement on such a violent remedy, but he was able to begin earning wages and make it a productive venture.

And isn’t that what God is saying about fasting?  Don’t fast for stupid religiosity, but rather be productive in helping the helpless while you abstain from food or drink or whatever it is that you deny yourself having.  And that makes sense. 

If, for forty days, I am refraining from $5.00 FrappaDappaLatteCinos, what am I doing with that money?  Buying new, overpriced wardrobe accessories?  Or the latest Passion “Worship” albums?  Or new trendy Chuck Taylors or Toms like all the other Christians? Or do you take the money and feed a hungry man?  Or give it to a friend struggling to make rent?

If I seem harsh, that’s just fine.  How about I think of my crap?  Excuse me, stuff.  Crazy surround sound system?  Slick digital gadgets?  More running shirts than I could possibly run in at any given time?  And hey, I’m terrible at self-denial!  I can often be heard to jokingly say, “I do what I want!”  How often we find truth in jest?!

I think the point of this is that I need to find a bare-knuckle boxing club.  My own fight club.  I’m not the type to just up and practice self-denial for its own sake; I’m not that strong.  I need some side motivation.  I need to know that I am helping someone or doing something productive.

We shouldn’t practice self-denial just for the sake of being a modern day Pharisee.  We must practice it because self-denial teaches us to hold lightly, if at all, the things of this world and be ever ready to cast them down.  We must brutally pursue Christ, otherwise we are unworthy to be called his own.  I must learn to deny myself, to be disciplined, such that there is some eternal benefit from the act of denial.

If you see me clinch my fists, you know I’m about to start denying.  I expect this line will make no sense to anyone, unless of course you’ve played battle ball with me or heard tales of such...

Oh yeah, this is not great writing.  My apologies