Only twelve days to go

It's settled (I just now got my flight itinerary!): I'm coming home July 2, which means I have but twelve days left here in Turkey! Every day I'm hit with the reality that my time here is all but over, and the memories and my enjoyment of my time here leaves me with a nearly overwhelming feeling of bittersweet. I've been trying to see as many friends and say goodbyes, shoot as many photos, eat as much Turkish food, do as much shopping, and wander around the streets as much as I can. Forget sleep.

In the meantime, I'm continuing with little success to find a Stateside teaching job. A few possibilities lie in Stafford and Henrico Counties (Virginia), charter schools in Charlotte and Chicago, and a smattering of high schools around Michigan. I have tons of applications out, but I never hear back from any schools. We'll see. I'm not necessarily worried at all about not finding a job, but I just don't want it to be a last-minute thing where I have only two weeks to move to a new city (or even a new state), adjust to life in a new area, prepare my classroom, and plan at least two subjects' worth of lessons.

Two questions keep popping up in all this decision making: (1) Which is more important: the school where I'm teaching, or the city where I'll live? I want to teach high school biology in a mixed-race school if at all possible, but usually one of the two isn't an option (usually the former). A few interesting openings have popped up, but in less than desirable locations, chiefly in the boonies somewhere with few good churches or social activities. I really want to live somewhere I can meet people my age who share my faith in Christ.

(2) Should I aim for teaching in an urban area? Normally I would want to have easy access to open country roads for cycling and forests for hiking and mountain biking. Without nature, I go nuts. Yet urban schools often get the short end of the stick when it comes to dedicated, talented teachers, and I think it could be a unique way to trust God with the next few years of my life to live in a lower-income area and continue learning to work "cross-culturally"--after all, I'm about as Suburbian White Boy as you can get.

Walking in newness of life

1What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? 2By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it? 3Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

5For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. 6We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. 7For one who has died has been set free from sin. 8Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. 9We know that Christ being raised from the dead will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. 10For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. 11So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. (Romans 6:1-11)

On Easter, of all days, I was thinking about baptism (and not because it was apparently a practice within some ancient churches to culminate a lengthy period of catechesis [Christian teaching] with Easter baptisms), chiefly because this remarkable passage loomed in my mind.*

Finding myself falling into--nay, willfully stepping into--into old patterns of sin in my life that have come back with a vengeance (Is this a Die Hard movie?), it suddenly clicked: The life of Jesus that is manifest in each one of us is his resurrection life, a life that is now lived after death. We are initiated into the eschatological glory of the risen Jesus through the death and rising of our baptism that joins us to him (Romans 6:4, 8-9). But the process of our transformation into his glory also involves earthly sanctification, what the apostle Paul calls "Christ . . . formed in you" (Galatians 4:19). This process of sharing in his glory (2 Corinthians 3:18) is not separate from the glory of the risen Lord. Rather, it is precisely his resurrection that makes all the difference--for resurrection can only happen when there has been a death.

The raw reality is that if I want the life of Christ to be formed in me at any given point of my life--hospitality, sexuality, stewardship of my finances and gifts, relationships with family and friends, whatever--it is going to be the life of his resurrection. And therefore there must be putting to death of my old ways. Like a Norse funeral, they need to be bound to a ship, set aflame, and sailed off into the distance, ne'er to return.

Of course, the problem is that "nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh" (Romans 7:18), and I will continually sin. Life is a battle of continually putting to death my sin through confessing it not only to God (the easy part), but also to brothers (the hard part), and through repenting of my old ways, stepping out of them and onto new paths, "that we might walk in newness of life."
____________________
*Props to Peter Leithart for these insightful words regarding Romans 6.

Grrrrrreat!

Justin Verlander of my beloved Tigers threw a no-hitter against the Brewers in Motown on Tuesday! "Poise beyond his age," wrote ESPN's Jerry Crasnick. The 2006 American League Rookie of the Year's fastball still clocked 101 mph in the ninth inning, and his sick curveball and hit-the-brakes changeup eluded batters all night. You can watch all 27 outs here.

The final line: 9 innings pitched, 112 pitches, 0 hits, 0 earned runs, 12 strikeouts, 4 walks. Now if that's not a reason to enjoy a cold one with your buddies, I don't know what is.

And through this happy grave, to rise . . .

I wanted to pass along this latest and final baptismal poem of John Piper's, written for his daughter Talitha. Though it marginally reflects Piper's credobaptist theology, to which I do not subscribe, like much of his other poetry I find it of such beauty, eloquence, and God-exalting grace that it's well worth passing along.


For Talitha at Her Baptism
May 16, 2007

The Lord himself once stood
With John the Baptist in the river, just
The way you stand with me
Tonight, the Son of Man with perfect trust,

Fulfilling everything
Required of us, as if a spotless Lamb
Should there repent, as if,
Immersed and hushed, the great I AM

Could choose to sink in death
And bury there alone in the abyss
Our sin, a parable
Of love and hope and suffering—and this.

And now you stand with me
Tonight in these strange waters, full of death,
And put your hand in mine
To lay you down, as if in sleep, one breath

Away from heaven’s gate,
As I have done three thousand times, since you
Were eight weeks old. But now
To signify not sleep but death, and through

This happy grave, to rise
Not this time into one more fading day,
But everlasting life.
And so tonight, dear Talitha, I pray:

God grant that you would live
Forever in the faith that makes you one
With Jesus Christ, and takes
You into death with him, and life, where none

Can pluck you from his hand
Or undo what the risen Lord has done.
And when the time should come
That I, though he has called me precious son,

Must once more be immersed
In death, fear not, this is no final threat
To me or you, but take
My hand in hope, as you do now, and let

Me draw my final breath,
And enter heaven’s gate assured of this:
That you will follow me
Someday and greet me with a holy kiss.

Droppin' the update situa-tas*

So . . . I have Internet access (for a few minutes, at least)! Just like a good sermon from Pastor Kevin at URC, I have three points of interest:

1. The job hunt is, well, slower than traffic on the Lodge (M-10) in Detroit right now. A school in NC canceled my interview the day of--and didn't bother to tell me, and a school in Chicago asked to set up an interview for May 31 but never returned any of my calls or e-mails to confirm it. Needless to say, May 31 has come and gone without any news--except some news I didn't want to hear: I was not offered either of the two positions near Lansing I interviewed for that I really wanted. I now have some eight pages, single-spaced, of schools I've sought out as far as jobs, with little luck so far. Whee.

2. On Thursday night while groovin' to some hits from the '90s at what became a post-Coffee House dance party, someone mentioned, "Isn't it funny how we never forget song lyrics? I can't believe I still know the words to [some song by Third Eye Blind]!" The thought popped in my head about how, while newer worship songs do emphasize the facet of the Psalms involving personal response, they fail pretty miserably as teaching tools. What I mean is that for centuries people didn't have ready access to the Scriptures, but they did have the sung liturgies and hymns of their church worship. Singing or chanting of God's character and saving acts in words given rhythm, melody, and rhyme give us truth that sticks in our heads and hearts. (Is it any surprise that much of the Old Testament, especially the Prophets, is in "rhyming" poetry?) Even the best of us cannot memorize scriptural prose as well as we know song lyrics. Three cheers for hymns old and new richer in words of God's saving grace than in words of lying and failing promises to love God alone and surrender myself to him.


3. I'm really going to miss Istanbul. The more I open my eyes, the more in awe I am at how this really is the best city in the world. My favorite thing is to see the Bosphorus at night, especially while crossing the southernmost bridge. Unlike the daily chaos, everything seems so calm as countless warm dots of light glimmer unto the horizons among the hills. I could probably talk and write for hours or days about how darn sweet this place is. I've been all over--Rome, Prague, Sevilla, Berlin, Munich, Fez--and Istanbul smokes 'em all, hands-down. Four more weeks.

*Props to my boy Jose for that one

Information Superhighway . . . in Michigan

We Michiganders (or Michiganians, if you please) say that there are only two seasons in the Pleasant Peninsula: winter and road work. Trying to travel on I-75 during the summertime can often be a slow, stop-and-go nightmare. Little gets done.

Well, that looks like what my updating and blogging activity is going to look like for the next six weeks, due to the fact that my new apartment doesn't even have telephone service, let alone Internet.

Please check back and keep in touch.

Assorted updates

On the front of other personal sundries . . .

1. I finally have a job interview! After no small effort scouting out secondary science teaching positions, I have an interview on Wednesday--of all places--at Grand Ledge High School (Grand Ledge, MI), where I did my internship in 2004-05. Out of a pool of some sixty applicants, nine were selected to interview for two positions. The science department, including my mentor teacher, all said they were rooting for me.

If I get offered the job, I see no reason not to take it. I'm familiar with the school, the people, the administration, and the teaching resources; there might be an open cross country coaching position; I could live in Lansing, which would offer both urban diversity and easy access to some great country roads for cycling; and I'd already have a great church home, University Reformed Church.

2. Please pray for my friends Jon and Bethany. They are the proud parents of little Mitchell McAvoy, who, after his birth on May 1st, had to undergo open-heart surgery for t-DGA, a serious congenital heart condition. He's actually being treated at the University of Michigan hospital, where I was also delivered and lived in an incubator for two months. The neonatal unit there is awesome. Fortunately, the surgery seems to have gone well, and Mitchell is on the road to recovery, but please keep them in your prayers.

3. If only I were able to be in St. Louis this October for . . . German Days! That's right, leave it up to those crazy, beer-drinking Lutherans at Concordia Seminary to host something this darn cool. I still sometimes think about schemes for moving to der Vaterland.

Jesus our hero

For my final six weeks in Turkey (how sad!), I'll be helping to lead a group of U.S. university students who've come to learn the culture and share with others about Jesus Christ. Here is the text of a short talk I'll be giving to them on Wednesday morning:


Jesus Our Hero

This summer, and especially during longer-term service in church planting and evangelism, you might come up against times during which you'll ponder the question, "Is all of this really worth it? No one is responding, no one is embracing Jesus, and I'm getting sick and tired of this." The stark truth is that for as much as we can pray for others, preach the full force of God's law, and share the news of God's grace, we cannot make anyone repent and follow the Lord Jesus. What, then, must we ask ourselves in such times? It's this: "Even if no one responds, is Jesus Christ worthy of being preached and proclaimed?" I hope that both now, and especially at the summer's end, your answer will be a resounding "Yes!"

Everywhere you go in Turkey, you'll see Mustafa Kemal Atatürk--statues in parks, photographs in public businesses, and even in family homes. People are crazy about this guy. He's a true hero to the Turkish people. But why? What's so great about him? We don't, after all, go nuts about George Washington.

Here's a brief Turkish history lesson, a story of salvation and leadership: In 1915 Mustafa Kemal became known as Gazi Paşa Mustafa Kemal--"war hero general"--for his foresight and strategy that allowed the Ottoman army to defeat the ANZAC (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps) soldiers at Gallipoli, not far from here. Then, after the Ottoman Empire lost World War I and Turkey became occupied by the British, French, Greeks, Italians, and Russians, life became somewhat oppressive. The country was cut up into zones of foreign occupation, and even mighty Istanbul itself was set up into different zones requring a passport for travel. (Think like East and West Germany and the divided city of Berlin after World War II.) The economy was unstable, many people were radically poor, and hope for the future was uncertain. What would become of Turkey and its people?


But Mustafa Kemal and the Turkish people wouldn't stand for this. Beginning in 1919, Kemal led the three-year War of Independence (Turkish Kurtuluş Savaşı, "salvation/liberation war") and defeated the foreign occupants, forcing their retreat. In the following years as the newly independent country's leader, he ushered in a new era for the Turkish people in which a democratic constitution was drawn up for the new Republic of Turkey. Public schools were funded, the alphabet was switched from awkward Arabic characters to the more functional Latin ones, thus increasing literacy, and Western, secular ideals were embraced. In his eyes, Turkey was moving forward into a new age. The parliament gave him the surname Atatürk, meaning "father of the Turks." In other words, the Turks wanted to say, "He has delivered us and made our new life possible; we find our identity in this hero; we are his people."

There's a word we find used in ancient Greek that fits Atatürk pretty well: archegos. This word generally has a threefold connocation: (a) a trailblazer or pioneer who opens the way for others, (b) a source or founder, and (c) a leader-ruler. According to J. Julius Scott, it refers to "an individual who opened the way for others to follow, founded the city in which they dwelt, gave his name to the community, fought its battles and secured the victory, and then remained as leader-ruler-hero of the people." [1]

Four times in the New Testament we see this unique word archegos used in reference to Jesus Christ:

Acts 3:15 "You killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we all are witnesses."

Acts 5:31 "God exalted him at his right hand as Leader [NIV Prince] and Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins."

Hebrews 2:10 "For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder [NRSV pioneer] of their salvation perfect through suffering."

Hebrews 12:2 ". . . fixing our eyes on Jesus, the founder [NRSV pioneer] and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."

Elsewhere in Hebrews are two closely related words, "source" and "forerunner":

Hebrews 5:8-10 "Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered. And being made perfect, he became the source [aitios] of eternal salvation to all who obey him, being designated by God a high priest after the order of Melchizedek."

Hebrews 6:19-20 "We have this [hope] as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner [prodromos] on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek."

In a country that so readily embraces as its hero, I offer that we have a far more worthy hero to proclaim and worship: Jesus the Messiah, who, through his sufferings upon the Cross and his bodily resurrection from the dead unto the Father's seat of honor, has paved the way to God's presence, brought us to glory as God's favored children, and secured our citizenship in God's kingdom. Here are but a few of the reasons from the Epistle to the Hebrews why the crucified and risen Christ is worthy of praise and proclamation as a hero far above anything any earthly leader can accomplish:

1. Through his sufferings and death, he has tasted death for everyone as their substitute, sparing us from the wrath of God as a sacrifice of propitiation (2:9-10, 17).

2. By fulfilling his Father's will and dying to bring God's chosen people back to him, Jesus was crowned with greatness of glory and honor (2:7-10; also 1:13; 3:3-6).

3. Through him we are made his brothers and therefore God's beloved sons, who will share in the glory to come (2:10-13).

4. Jesus is a faithful leader over us and a servant for us, God's house (3:1-6).

5. His death has destroyed the one who has the power of death, the devil, and has freed us from the slavery to fear of death (2:14-15). Satan's ability to accuse us with the Law has been broken, because in his perfect obedience Jesus fulfilled the Law for us (5:8; also Matthew 5:17; Romans 10:4; Colossians 2:14-15).

6. He has rendered completely obsolete all forms of fearfully making insufficient sacrifices to God as a way of covering our sins and extending our hopes of receiving his blessing (7:18--10:18). Rather, he has pioneered a new way to God and secured the way there, washing us perfectly clean (9:13-14) and giving us good hope (6:19-20), so that with confidence and full assurance we can approach the holy God as our Father (4:16; 10:19-23).

7. The salvation he has wrought and brought us into is an eternal salvation, never to be done away with, weakened, discarded by God, or broken by other powers (5:9; 7:25).

8. He will return again at the end of this age to save those who are eagerly waiting for him (9:28) and bring them to into glory.

9. He has secured for us all that we need for entrance into the new age of God's rest (4:8-10) and has given us all the promises of life and blessing that he himself inherited through his own obedient sonship (9:15-17). Now through him we have citizenship in the homeland of God (11:14-16), the heavenly Jerusalem (12:22-24). We have been given a permanent city with foundations (11:10) and a kingdom that cannot be shaken (12:28).

10. He has set an example for us to imitate and has shown us the way to salvation: a way that must pass through the shame and pains of rejection, death to self, and the cross, but breaks through to the joy set before us. He shows us it's a possible race, since he himself ran the race with endurance, both beginning and finishing it (12:1-2; also 6:12); and even now he is interceding for us, that we might finish the race (7:25).

11. He is not a haughty or prideful ruler, but rather he is a compassionate Savior who is able to help us when we are tempted by sin and rocked by doubt (2:18; 4:15).

This is the Jesus we are to proclaim, who is worthy of being told no matter what anyone else thinks! This is our Hero-King! Throughout your summer here, whenever you see a picture or statue of Atatürk, think about Jesus and his liberation far greater than the Kurtuluş Savaşı, the "so great a salvation" he has achieved for us upon the Cross.

---

[1] J. Julius Scott, Jr., Archegos in the Salvation History of the Epistle to the Hebrews; http://www.wheaton.edu/DistanceLearning/Arch-heb.htm#(1); last accessed 18 May, 2007.

Injustice and idiocy

Yesterday I read this article on CNN and was deeply saddened by it. I don't know how accurate it is, but if it's true, then this really disgusts me that innocent women (and men, I'm sure) are being executed for crimes they have not committed. Injustice--whether such an egregious offense as this or simply getting ripped off by a taxi driver who claims to have no change--is one of those things that infuriates me. Please pray for these injustices to be crushed and for truth to reign, especially that the church in Iraq would be a light for justice (Isaiah 59).

"You shall do no injustice in judgment; you shall not be partial to the poor nor defer to the great, but you are to judge your neighbor fairly. You shall not go about as a slanderer among your people, and you are not to act against the life of your neighbor; I am the LORD" (Leviticus 19:15-16).

But you know what the scary thing is? I looked at the woman's photograph and for some reason felt that it was a worse crime to corruptly try and hang her simply because she is reasonably attractive. As if it were a lesser crime to kill someone with less-pretty physical features! Who's the wicked one now, huh?

* * *

On top of that, CNN also posted this wonderful story about a law firm with a billboard saying, "Life's short. Get a divorce." It looks like they forgot that the duration for which one can maintain his pectoral muscles and abnormally hairless body or her artificial 36"-24"-36" figure is even shorter. Any takers for "till death do us part"?

Bonhoeffer on the Psalms, part III: the Enemies

I still vividly recall the time I began to learn Jesus' command to "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." I was fifteen, and my brother Jordan thirteen. We were riding our bikes on the "wrong side of the river" in Saginaw, and Jordan was pushed off his bike and strangled by two teens. His bike ended up getting stolen. The bruising on his throat was hideous--and what can one say about any emotional scars the event left until this day? And yet my mother, aside from giving me one hell of a stern scolding for letting it happen, taught me a much stronger lesson: "Drew, we must pray for these boys. They obviously have neither a loving home nor nice bikes. Their lives cannot be right, or else they wouldn't have done such a thing." What? I thought.

Having our friends and brothers in Christ Necati, Uğur, and Tilmann coldly tortured and slaughtered last week in Malatya, forgiving our enemies becomes the challenge directly in our faces. How can their wives, children, fiancee, and family of these men forgive and live outside of fear? How can we as the church in Turkey, all eyes upon us, point in all things to the living hope into which we've been born (1 Peter 1:3)? Again I find it instructive to turn to the words of pastor Bonhoeffer, a man who knew not only the great evils of the National Socialist (Nazi) regime, but eventually was hanged by them as an enemy of the state.

No section of the Psalter causes us greater difficulty today than the so-called imprecatory psalms. . . . Every attempt to pray these psalms seems doomed to failure. They seem to be an example of what people think of as the religious first stage toward the New Testament. Christ on the cross prays for his enemies and teaches us to do the same. How can we still, with these Psalms, call for the wrath of God against our enemies? . . .

The enemies referred to here are the enemies of the cause of God. It is therefore nowhere a matter of personal conflict. Nowhere does the one who prays these psalms want to take revenge into his own hands. He calls for the wrath of God alone (cf. Romans 12:19). Therefore he must dismiss from his own mind all thought of personal revenge; he must be free from his own thirst for revenge. Otherwise, the vengeance would not be seriously commanded from [that is, prayed for from] God. . . .

God's vengeance did not strike the sinners, but the one sinless man who stood in the sinners' place, namely God's own Son. Jesus Christ bore the wrath of God, for the execution of which the psalm prays. He stilled God's wrath toward sin and prayed in the hour of the execution of the divine judgment: "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do!" No other than he, who himself bore the wrath of God, could pray in this way. That was the end of all phony thoughts about the love of God which do not take sin seriously. God hates and redirects his enemies to the only righteous one, and this one asks forgiveness for them. Only in the cross of Jesus Christ is the love of God to be found.

Thus the imprecatory psalm leads to the cross of Jesus and to the love of God which forgives enemies. I cannot forgive the enemies of God out of my own resources. Only the crucified Christ can do that, and I through him. Thus the carrying out of vengeance becomes grace for all men in Jesus Christ. . . .

Even today I can believe the love of God and forgive my enemies only by going back to the cross of Christ, to the carrying out of the wrath of God. The cross of Jesus is valid for all men. Whoever opposes him, whoever corrupts the word of the cross of Jesus on which God's wrath must be executed, must bear the curse of God some time or another. . . .*

It is in the knowledge that God's judgment is faithful and just that we can pray for his avenging of our enemies' sin. For their evils will either be mercifully transferred upon the sacrificial Lamb of God and punished there in him upon Golgotha, or they will be brought to nothing in the eternal torments of the hereafter. But it is in light of the former that we must pray, for God does not wish "for any to perish but all to come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9)--and as recipients of his undeserved favor must likewise have the same desire. Perhaps it was also in this light that the wives of both Necati and Tilmann chose to forgive their husbands' murderers. I am especially proud of Necati's wife Şemsa, who declared that she is staying put in Malatya. After all, her daughter recently planted some flowers there, and she wishes to stay to see them grow--bringing the life and beauty of God's grace with them.
______________________________
*Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Psalms: The Prayer Book of the Bible (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1970), pp. 56-60.

Bonhoeffer on the Psalms, part II: Suffering

One Web site I frequent is PostSecret, a site allowing people to mail in self-made postcards revealing their deep and shameful secrets. It's a beautiful thing, and it sometimes affects me deeply. I found this postcard to speak what is on the hearts of many:


Even this person has an innate sense that the pains and woes of this world, evils both of human and natural cause, are beyond human control. Tragedies remind us, as much as we live and act to the contrary, we aren't sovereign. Lest we drown in a flood of existentialist Angst, we think, Somebody else must be running this planet--right? Someone else has to be able to restore order, peace, health, life--right? But this also brings the sticky problem that this Someone, if he's in control over it all and can cure our ills, must also have been able to prevent the calamity. And we then cry, Why, God? Are you not loving? Do you not care? With Luther our hearts cry, "Bless us, Lord, even curse us! But don't remain silent!"

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in his little book Psalms: The Prayer Book of the Bible, shows us how the laments of the Bible also bring us into the heart of this paradox, this conundrum that seems unreconcilable this side of eternity:

. . . [The Psalms] do not deny [suffering] or try to deceive us about it with pious words. They allow it to stand as a severe attack on the faith. Occasionally they no longer focus on suffering (Psalm 88), but they all complain to God. No individual can repeat the lamentation Psalms out of his own experience; it is the distress of the entire Christian community at all times, as only Jesus Christ has experienced it entirely alone, which is here unfolded. Because it happens with God's will, indeed because God knows it completely and knows it better than ourselves, only God himself can help. But therefore also must all our questions again and again assault God himself.

There is in the Psalms no quick and easy resignation to suffering. There is always struggle, anxiety, doubt. God's righteousness iwhich allows the pious to be met by misfortune but the godless to escape free, even God's good and gracious will, is undermined (Psalm 44:24). His behavior is too difficult to grasp. But even in the deepest hopelessness God alone remains the one addressed. Neither is help expected from men, nor does the distressed one in self-pity lose sight of the origin and goal of all distress, namely God. He sets out to do battle against God for God. The wrathful God is confronted countless times with his promise, his previous blessings, the honor of his name among men.

. . . There are no theoretical answers in the Psalms to all these questions [about God's justice and motives], as there are none in the New Testament. The only real answer is Jesus Christ. But this answer is already sought in the Psalms. It is common to all of them that they cast every difficulty and agony on God: "We can no longer bear it, take it from us and bear it yourself, you alone can handle suffering." That is the goal of all of the lamentation Psalms. They pray concerning the one who took upon himself our diseases and bore our infirmities, Jesus Christ. They proclaim Jesus Christ to be the only help in suffering, for in him God is with us.

. . . But not only is Jesus Christ the goal of our prayer; he himself also accompanies us in our prayer. He, who has suffered every want and has brought it before God, has prayed for our sake in God's name: "Not my will, but thine be done." For our sake he cried on the cross: "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?" Now we know that there is no longer any suffering on earth in which Christ will not be with us, suffering with us and praying with us--Christ the only helper.

On this basis the great Psalms of trust develop. Trust in God without Christ is empty and without certainty; it is only another form of self-trust. But whoever knows that God has entered into our suffering in Jesus Christ himself may say with great confidence: "Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me" (Psalms 23, 37, 63, 73, 91, 121).*
_______________________________
*Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Psalms: The Prayer Book of the Bible (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1970), pp. 46-9.

Bonhoeffer on the Psalms, part I: the Body of Christ

Something I've found over the past few years is that my prayers become expanded and transcendant when I stop focusing only on the wants and troubles of my own life and begin to intercede for others. I spent many times in the summer of 2004 praying with a copy of Voice of the Martyrs magazine and Hebrews 13:3: "Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering." In those times, the church became more important and God more mighty as I thought of others and the ways God was manifesting his power veiled in weakness throughout the world (2 Corinthians 12:9; 13:4).

Then over the past few years, I've read Dietrich Bonhoeffer's writings about the book of Psalms. We often find it difficult to pray many psalms, finding their joy too high, their pains too sharp, their sufferings too distant. And how easily do we balk at the psalms of deep lament, let alone those "imprecatory psalms" calling for divine retribution upon the enemies of the righteous? Yet Dr. Bonhoeffer gives us such clues as to unlock these difficult prayers:

A psalm that we cannot utter as a prayer, that makes us falter and horrifies us, is a hint to us that here Someone else is praying, not we; that the One who is here protesting his innocence, who is invoking God's judgment, who has come to such infinite depths of suffering, is none other than Jesus Christ himself. He it is who is praying here, and not only here but in the whole Psalter. . . . He prayed the Psalter and now it has become his prayer for all time? . . . Jesus Christ prays the Psalter through his congregation. . . .

Now that Christ is with the Father, the new humanity of Christ, the Body of Christ on earth, continues to pray his prayer to the end of time. This prayer belongs, not to the individual member, but to the whole Body of Christ. Only in the whole Christ does the whole Psalter become a reality, a whole which the individual can never fully comprehend and call his own. That is why the prayer of the psalms belongs in the peculiar way to the fellowship. Even if a verse or a psalm is not one's own prayer, it is nevertheless the prayer of another member of the fellowship; so it is quite certainly the prayer of the true Man Jesus Christ and his Body on earth.*

Bonhoeffer says that the prayers written by and for the Davidic kings are most fully taken up on the lips of the Messiah, the David who was to come. Only he met the truest requirements of innocent suffering, of true righteousness, of just kingship, and of inheriting the covenant promises through his obedience. And so the Psalms are ultimately Jesus' prayers. As such, they become the perfect prayers of the New Man to whom we belong and in whom we are found. When we pray the Psalms, we pray as Christ's body and in Christ, that is, our cries and praises come to the Father as if from the Son himself, his Beloved with whom he is well pleased! And when the Son prays, he is never rejected: "Father, I thank you that you have heard me," he prays in John 11:41-42. "I knew that you always hear me."

Additionally, I have found my prayers to be enriched and my love for the church to grow when I realize Bonhoeffer's insight that "[e]ven if a verse or a psalm is not one's own prayer, it is nevertheless the prayer of another member of the fellowship." Offering up petitions of sad lament, praises of glad adoration, pleas for justice have had this sort of transforming effect on me, as I put myself in others' shoes. Even when the Psalms are joyful, I can find myself thanking God for blessings he is shedding that day on others whom he loves--people I don't know, his work in ways I can't even see.

I find it odd that now it's my turn to go through suffering and loss not only alongside other members of the church in Turkey, but I feel it myself. And it's good to know that all along we've been, through the Psalms, praying and preparing and seeking God in this moment together.
_________________________
*Life Together (New York: Harper & Row, 1954), pp. 45-7.

The power of a pronoun

By now you may have heard of last Wednesday's (April 18) events in Malatya, a particularly volatile city in southeastern Turkey. Three men at a Turkish Bible publisher--two Turks and a German--were bound hand and foot, had various body parts lacerated with knives, and had their throats slit by a group of ultra-nationalists who perceived them to be a threat to Islam and to the Turkish state. Eleven men have since been arrested and indicted on murder charges. Will earthly justice miscarry? Only time will tell. These deaths mark the first martyrdom of Turkish converts to Christianity. Previously, murders such as January's shooting of Armenian Christian journalist Hrant Dink in Istanbul and last year's shooting of a Catholic priest in Trabzon were attacks on non-Turkish Christians. (Interestingly, all of these "patriotic" slayings have been committed by teenagers. Perhaps the Turkish word for teenager, delikanlı, is fitting after all: it means "crazy-blooded.")

Over the weekend I was traveling to North Cyprus (tell the U.S. to update its maps) to renew my visa and then to visit some friends in Adana, a warm and beautiful city on Turkey's southern coast. As if the murders hadn't hit home already, they sure did on Sunday at church. The German victim was a member of that congregation during the several years he lived in Adana. People cried and wept as they told stories remembering his gentle heart and soft-spoken manner, how he loved to play the violin, and how his chief goal in life was for others to know Jesus Christ more deeply. Through periods of tears, the pastor preached from John 15:18--16:4, and the need for us not to shrink back in fear, but to continue bearing witness to the truth. He spoke about how ludicrous it was for people to see these Christian men and their Bibles as threats: they lived to make known the message of a book that teaches God's people to love their neighbors as themselves, forgive their enemies, pay their taxes, honor those in authority, care for the needy, heal the sick, and conserve the rest of creation. I was glad to hear that the victims' wives publicly said they do not seek revenge, but rather they forgive the killers. Will the nation hear that message?

* * *

A few things especially have hit me over this: I knew about the shooting in Trabzon last year, and I reacted in bitter disgust at the slaying of Hrant Dink. But now it was personal; somehow these shootings felt closer to home. Friends of mine knew the victims well. When I was journaling and praying, something unique happened: I was praying with first-person plural pronouns, "we" and "us" prayers. No longer did I see the church as Turkish versus expatriate. We are all of one family in Christ, members of one another in this trial. "And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it" (1 Corinthians 12:26). I saw myself and the Turkish church bound up together in one faith, one witness, one travail. Indeed, we are.

Additionally, we hear of deaths in Iraq and Palestine, Sudan and Indonesia, as faceless numbers: "Today seventy-five died in sectarian violence in Baghdad"; "Thirty-two die at Virginia Tech," etc. But these were real men with names, homes, wives and children and fiancees; with hobbies and careers and fiery passion for the Lord Jesus. I was glad to see CNN post a brief biography of each of the VTU victims today.

Please continue to pray for our witness, for the family and friends of the victims, for justice, and for God's forgiving mercy to be shed even upon the killers.

A prayer from the Turkish church

Deliver me from my enemies, O my God;
set me securely on high away from those who rise up against me.
Deliver me from those who do iniquity
and save me from men of bloodshed.
For behold, they have set an ambush for my life;
fierce men launch an attach against me,
not for my transgression nor for my sin, O LORD,
for no guilt of mine, they run and set themselves against me.
Arouse Yourself to help me, and see!

They return at evening, the howl like a dog,
and go around the city.
Behold, they belch forth with their mouth;
swords are in their lips,
for, they say, "Who hears?"
But You, O LORD, laugh at them.


O God, shatter the teeth in their mouth;
break out the fangs of the young lions, O LORD.
Let them flow away like water that runs off;
when he aims his arrows, let them be as headless shafts.
Let them be as a snail which melts away as it goes along,
like the miscarriages of a woman which never see the sun.


But as for me, I shall sing of Your strength;
yes, I shall joyfully sing of Your lovingkindness in the morning.
For You have been my stronghold
and a refuge in the day of my distress.
O my strength, I will sing praises to You;
for God is my stronghold, the God who shows me lovingkindness.

The righteous will rejoice when he sees vengeance;
he will wash his feet in the blood of the wicked.
And men will say, "Surely there is a reward for the righteous;
surely there is a God who judges on earth!"

- taken from Psalms 58 and 59

Hell took a body, and discovered God

Diriliş Bayramınız kutlu olsun! İsa Mesih dirildi, ölüm yenildi! (Happy Easter! Jesus is risen and death is conquered!)

As a child, I knew that there was something different about Easter: everyone wore white, flowers abounded, and trumpets accompanied the organ during the singing of "Crown Him With Many Crowns." But I never "got it." But now, when I read the story beginning with that subtly revealing opening line,"And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun [Son? Light of the world?] had risen . . ." I can't help but getting this tingling, indescribable feeling of wonder.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: the painting of the Anastasis inside the Church of St. Savior in Chora in Istanbul is my favorite painting of all time. As in all Anastasis depictions, the Christ stands victorious atop the broken gates of hell (known sometimes as the "Doors of Death"), barring the way for his saints and blocking its powers--do you see Satan bound beneath?-- as he by hand personally lifts Adam and Eve from the grave into life and joy everlasting. At a local Easter celebration last night, the pastor spoke about us hopelessly stuck at the bottom of a deep chasm. Try as we might, we are never able to climb out on our own. But Jesus, the "pioneer [archegos*] of salvation," is the One who by God's power climbed out of the pit, reaching out and towing us along with him out of the danger into sure deliverance, "leading many sons to glory" (Hebrews 2:10).

"On this mountain he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet that covers all nations; he will swallow up death forever." (Isaiah 25:7-8)

The great church father and one-time Patriarch of Constantinople (Istanbul!) John Chrysostom once preached about the Anastasis, the defeat of Death and the Devil by the Lord Jesus. Though 1,600 years old, this sermon is still preached in Orthodox churches at Easter. May it be a hymn of praise to our Savior and our song of triumph.

Is there anyone who is a devout lover of God?
Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival!
Is there anyone who is a grateful servant?
Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!

Are there any weary with fasting?
Let them now receive their wages!
If any have toiled from the first hour,
let them receive their due reward;
If any have come after the third hour,
let him with gratitude join in the Feast!
And he that arrived after the sixth hour,
let him not doubt; for he too shall sustain no loss.
And if any delayed until the ninth hour,
let him not hesitate; but let him come too.
And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
let him not be afraid by reason of his delay.

For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.
He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour,
as well as to him that toiled from the first.
To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows.
He accepts the works as He greets the endeavor.
The deed He honors and the intention He commends.

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!
First and last alike receive your reward;
rich and poor, rejoice together!
Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!

You that have kept the fast, and you that have not,
rejoice today for the Table is richly laden!
Feast royally on it, the calf is a fatted one.
Let no one go away hungry. Partake, all, of the cup of faith.
Enjoy all the riches of His goodness!

Let no one grieve at his poverty,
for the universal kingdom has been revealed.
Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again;
for forgiveness has risen from the grave.
Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Savior has set us free.
He has destroyed it by enduring it.

He destroyed Hades when He descended into it.
He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh.
Isaiah foretold this when he said,
"You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below."

Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with.
It was in an uproar because it is mocked.
It was in an uproar, for it is destroyed.
It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated.
It is in an uproar, for it is now made captive.
Hell took a body, and discovered God.
It took earth, and encountered Heaven.
It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see.
O death, where is thy sting?
O Hades, where is thy victory?

Christ is Risen, and you, O death, are annihilated!
Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down!
Christ is Risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is Risen, and life is liberated!
Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead;
for Christ having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!

_____________________

*According to J. Julius Scott, the Greek term archegos encompasses a wide variety of images, but it generally means someone who pioneers a new path for others to follow (trailblazer, pioneer), conquers a city or land (victor, hero, founder), and oversees his people's life in the new city to ensure their safe and prosperous life (prince, leader).

Good Friday

After singing our 35-minute choral piece, "Colors of Grace: Lessons For Lent," during our Good Friday service at UCI tonight, the lights were dimmed and we shared in Holy Communion, partaking of the true Passover meal in which our Savior Jesus' body and blood are offered to us. As I sat watching the others wait to take the bread and wine, the beautiful thought came to me: Jesus died for him and for her, for each one of his ransomed saints whom he purchased with his blood (Acts 20:28; Revelation 5:9). Jesus' death wasn't just some general atonement for sins to which we join ourselves through the exercise of our faith; as the Good Shepherd he died to bring forgiveness, reconcilation, and life to each of the sheep given him by his Father. "I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. . . . I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me--just as the Father knows me and I know the Father--and I lay down my life for the sheep" (John 10:11, 14-15).

Jesus' death actually saves sinners: "You are to give him the name Jesus ["Yahweh saves"], because he will save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1:21). That means he had each of us who trust him in mind as he bore beatings, mockings, being spit upon, insults, scourging, and the agony of hanging limp and lacerated upon a Roman cross. Already in the eternal plan of God our names were "engraved on the palms of his hands" (Isaiah 49:16) with the nails. He died for Riza from the Phillipines, for Hasan from Iran, for Erin from Canada, for Ramiel from Moldova, for Valerya from Russia, Jutta from Germany--even for Andrew from Saginaw, Michigan. God's love isn't some amorphous malaise. It is a sacrificial, redeeming love fixed upon each of his children, whose names he wrote even before the foundation of the world in "the book of the Lamb who was slain" (Revelation 13:8). Let us believe along with the Apostle Paul that "Jesus loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20). Yes, that means he knew each and every one of our hideous, shameful, godless acts that drove him to the Cross--and he chose to endure the pain even still. A "love that surpasses understanding" indeed.

During his final meal with his disciples, Our Lord said that he will not eat the Passover meal again "until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God," and he "will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes" (Luke 22:14-18). Yet as we, the redeemed from over twenty nations, partook in the Table together, a little slice of the kingdom was true even there in the evening calm. For just as the high priest Caiaphas ignorantly prophesied, Jesus died "not only for [the Jewish] nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one" (John 11:52)--and so it was tonight.

Buy me some peanuts and Cracker-Jacks

It's Opening Day. Sure, the Mets and Cardinals may have squared off last night already, but the real Major League Baseball season starts today when the Tigers' ace Jeremy Bonderman takes the mound against the Toronto Blue Jays. Are we going to surprise everyone like last year? No--everyone's watching us. But can we repeat as a top contender in the tough American League Central Division? Absolutely. Even without veteran pitcher Kenny Rogers (out three months recovering from surgery to remove a blood clot in his shoulder), we have a solid rotation backed with even more offensive firepower than last year in the form of Gary Sheffield.

Spring is here, folks. Last week, I saw someone mowing a lawn (all fifty square meters of it in this city), and it smelled great. The tulips are blooming all over the place. Cats are in heat and going crazy. But best of all, topping the Vernal Equinox or all pagan rites of spring, it's Opening Day. While the rest of Turkey's 74 million residents care only about futbol--you should see the looks on their faces when we play baseball on the shore--the world's greatest sport takes its reign again. Play ball!

Jew or Greek, barbarian or Scythian

If you've been acutely tuned in to global news, you've probably noted the rise of conflict over recognition of the Armenian "conflict" (read: genocide) in the Ottoman Empire that peaked in 1915 with the deaths of some 800,000 of the two million Armenians living with Turkish borders.* You've probably heard about how France and even the U.S. are attempting to pass bills demanding that these events were recognized as massacres. You may have heard how Hrant Dink, an Armenian journalist living in Istanbul who was tried in national court for speaking about the "genocide"--a "crime against Turkishness"--was gunned down in broad daylight by an ultra-nationalist.

Turkish Daily News writer and political author Elif Şafak wrote the following in a recent editorial: "Imagine an exquisite dinner scene in Istanbul. A long, long table; at least 30 people. It is kind of breezy outside, the infamous lodos is blowing incessantly, as if to remind you that life in this city is far from quiet and orderly. Inside the room, the variety of the food served reflects the multicultural roots of today's Turkish cuisine: Albanian meatballs, Greek seafood, Kurdish spices, Armenian pastries, Turkish pilaf. People drink and eat and laugh and from time to time, they toast friends long departed.

"Then somebody starts to sing a song. Other guests join in and before you know it a string of songs follow, most of them sad but none disheartening. The songs switch almost effortlessly from Armenian to Kurdish, from Turkish to Greek. Where one stops another one picks up. Imagine, in short, a cosmopolitan setting where everyone is welcome no matter what their ethnicity, race or religion. Imagine a country where we are all equal, friendly and free."

Why do we partners in humanity have this longing? Because, I believe, this is part of the life of Paradise, of the Kingdom of God, where people from "every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues" will feast in the joyous presence of the Triune Savior, drinking from the water of life with every tear wiped away, "Salvation to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb" (Rev. 7:9-17). In Christ Jesus--and nowhere else--is there "a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew [or even the Greeks' long-standing enemies, the Turks], circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and freeman, but Christ is all, and in all" (Col. 3:11). God has planted an echo of eternity in everyone's heart for which we all long (Ecc. 3:10), but only by accepting the work of the Lord Jesus will we ever enter into that joy.

The beginnings of such a beautiful thing did happen at Dink's funeral, though: thousands of people--Turks, Kurds, and Armenians alike--marched in the streets chanting "We are all Hrant Dink! We are all Armenians!" Was this a demonstration of the intrinsic goodness of man? Or did it have something to do with the fact that Hrant Dink and his wife were faithful Christians, through whom God was spreading a vision of redemption? I've heard that at the funeral, which received national television coverage, Dink's wife truly spoke of her hope in the gospel of Christ. May her prayers be answered.

___________________
*This began in 1874, when invading Russian forces sought and secured the aid of Armenians in defeating the Ottomans from within. Were there religious overtones, with the Armenians and Russians standing both as Orthodox Christians, and the Turks as Muslims?

Jesus Christ is the miracle of all miracles

Thinking more about the gospel--or, more so, the Gospels (I'm reading St. John's account right now)--I can't help but notice the primacy of miracles (testifying "signs" to John). What are these all about? Are they merely proof-texts of Jesus' deity, showing that as the God-man he can make satisfaction for our sins upon the Cross? Or are they part of the message itself, the Kingdom of God? Karl Barth--and I think rightly so--says that they are also foretastes of the new and radically blessed order that has become "at hand" in Jesus (Mark 1:14-15). The promises given to Israel by their covenant God are finding their fulfillment in Jesus Christ.

"When the biblical miracle stories excite serious and relevant wonderment, they intend to do this as signals of something fundamentally new, not as a violation of the natural order which is generally known and acknowledged." (Evangelical Theology: An Introduction. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1963. p. 68)

"According to the biblical testimony, what happened following such statements [e.g., "Rise, take up your bed and go home" and the miracle commands of Jesus] was always a change in the ordinary course of the world and nature which threatened and oppressed man. Though these changes were isolated and temporary, they were nevertheless radically helpful and saving. What took place were promises and intimations, anticipations of a redeemed nature, of a state of freedom, of a kind of life in which there will be no more sorrow, tears, and crying, and where death as the last enemy will be no more. What is communicated under the form of these little lights is always the reflected brightness of the great light which draws near to the end of the present in the form of hope. What is at stake is the summons, "'Look up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near'" (Luke 21:28). This kindling of the light of hope is what is really new; it is the really surprising element in the biblical miracle stories." (pp. 68-69)

"What is really and decisively new is the new man.

"According to the biblical witness, Jesus acted by these miraculous deeds in the midst of other men as the Lord, servant, and guarantor for them all. In these deeds he proclaimed both himself and the righteousness and judgment of God. In them he revealed his glory. He himself is the new event, the great light of hope that has already come and will come again after having shined provisionally in these little lights [presumably referring to his miracles; see previous quote]. The new event is the world's reconciliation with God, which was announced in the Old Testament and fulfilled in the New Testament by Jesus Christ. The new event is the fulfilling and perfecting of the covenant between God and man. The new event is love, free grace, the unfathomable mercy with which God took up the cause of Israel, the criminal contender against God, and the cause of the whole rebellious and corrupt human race. He took up their cause by letting his Word become flesh, miserable and sinful flesh like our own. The execution of his eternal counsel took place in a concrete act within time and space, not on the lofty pinnacle of some idea that might be easily comprehensible and persuasive for man. The Word became flesh in our place and for us, to overcome, take away, and eradicate the sin that separates us from God, the sin that is also the sting of death, the old element of our old nature and world. The new event is the name of God which is hallowed in this one person, in his obedience, service, life, and death. It is the kingdom come in him, established and active in him, God's will that in him is done on earth as in heaven. The new event is the pathway of children to their father, the way opened through him to all men and traversable for them all through the power of life of the Holy Spirit.

"The new event, according to the biblical witness, is the history of Jesus Christ that concludes the history of Israel. Christ the Saviour is there! In a real and decisive sense, therefore, he is the miracle, the miracle of all miracles! Whoever takes up the subject of theology finds himself inevitably confronted with this miracle. Christ is that infinitely wondrous event which compels a person, so far as he experiences and comprehends this event, to be necessarily, profoundly, wholly, and irrevocably astonished." (pp. 70-71)

The job hunt has begun

With plans to return to the U.S. in early July and begin an indefinitely long teaching career (that is, unless--or until?--something else calls, perhaps a role in Church education at home or abroad), I've begun hacking my way through the jungle of job hunting. Forget the Amazon; this is far worse. You see, I'm at a slight disadvantage, with nothing less than the Atlantic Ocean (plus the Mediterranean Sea to boot!) between me and those lovely faces representing schools from across Michigan and the rest of the U.S. at the education job fairs that sprout like mushrooms every April.

So, like Jesus' teaching, "Behold, there went out a sower to sow" (Mark 4:3 KJV), I'm e-mailing tons of school districts to let them know I exist. I figure that at three schools per day, I can catch some 250 schools before I return. I have yet to find a single job posting for the 2007-08 school year, but this is normal, and it'll be even crazier and more last-minute with the funding cuts and whopping 8% unemployment in Michigan. Shall I perhaps end up living outside the bounds of my beloved Mitten? O Pleasant Peninsula, may it never be!

Well, if New England weren't so outrageously expensive (Massachusetts, southern NY, Connecticut) or shrinking and underfunded (Vermont, Maine, New Hampshire), then maybe it would be a good location. Besides, how cool would it be to say I live in a town called Schenectady? There are plenty of jobs, however, in the South: the Carolinas, Virginia, and Georgia, where school districts are growing rapidly.

But in the midst of retraining my mind to the world of science--particularly biology and chemistry--I'm finding that, in fact, I am excited about getting back into the classroom. First off, there's the coolness contained in discovering how batteries work (which do not get lighter after use), the mysteries of tree growth (whose mass does not come from the soil), and diving into the complex web of interactions between man and the rest of nature (sorry, Al Gore, but it looks like global warming has been a historically present and cyclical phenomenon--though we are exacerbating it). But alongside that are even greater enigmas to be explained: teenagers. I think it's quite fitting that the Turkish word for "teenager" is delikanlı, which means "crazy-blooded."

So from now on, more news and thoughts about my soon-to-be life as an educator will be cropping up from time to time. My apologies to all who hated science; you didn't have me as your teacher!