bierkergaard

A friend of mine posted a lovely meditation on December and darkness,  On Advent and the like. I commented appreciatively that "For darkness is the realm of dreams." Every so often I feel as if I hit a note right, like a string on a guitar. It just vibrates in a shimmering expansive way. When I was in the midst of Ph.D. studies and working full-time, I unwisely consumed a lot of coffee after work so I could stick to my six-day work-out schedule and be alert in the evening for my wife. Long story short, I just didn't burn the candle and both ends, I microwaved the f@cker into a molten pool. I was stressed and exhausted all of the time and then used beer to try and douse the psychological flames on the weekends. Really unwise. I was never in danger of being an alcoholic or anything, it was just the caffeine and alcohol duo was just the wrong remedy. Sleep was not restful, I skimmed on the top of sleep like a smooth stone on the surface of a stream. I was clocking t

Lancaster City is being plagued by an outbreak of shootings and suicides. A good deal of the violence is by young men. A school teacher was murdered last week in her city house in a cold blooded break-in robbery by two young assailants who didn't know her but one lived in her neighborhood. The community is shocked and saddened. A lot of hang-wringing is going on where people are looking for answers. I have worked with teenagers for close to thirty years and as a result of such in-depth experiences over such a long period of time, often with society's most distressed and troubled kids, I know a thing or two more than the average person about adolescents. I was in a bit of a discussion with a friend, more Liberal than I, on Facebook about remedies to this and I felt as if he somewhat discounted my insight. I don't offer easy solutions but ones that I think are grounded in reality and not idealism. My general point was that fear can be a deterrent to crime. Not the best d

I drove out the Pennsylvania Turnpike to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving. There, I dwelt and celebrated with Brother Steve and his wife and kids. I have been making the trek for over 20 years. It wouldn't seem like Thanksgiving without going out there. A tradition in the best sense of the word. I also get to hang out with my niece Averie who is a 7 year old ball of fire in 60 pounds of human flesh. She is a great spirit and a lot of fun to goof around with. Since I will probably never have kids, it is the closest slice of fatherhood that I will ever have--and a heck of a lot easier. More like unclehood. I am not exactly the most devoted uncle but I do think that my brothers' kids (I have three brothers) are supercool and a blessing to me. At the end of the days, I want to be named the Patron Saint of Teenagers. Those are the children I have spent most of my life with praise God. What a remarkable blessing. After one gets beyond Carlisle, the Pennsylvania Turnpike becomes a

Proverbs 1:20 Wisdom shouts in the streets. She cries out in the public square. Ferguson, New York City, Cleveland. Unarmed black males killed by white police officers. Die-ins at Malls, protests in the streets. Baltimore, New York City. Police Officers shot or killed. Nary a sound. All is quiet. Nary a peep. Hypocrisy? For certain. The black males killed to one degree or another engaged the police inappropriately, even with illegal behavior. The police didn't randomly select these individuals without cause. There was probable cause for their confrontations. We can certainly condemn the heavy-handedness of the police, but easy for me to say. The cops didn't know if the suspects were armed. Just because some thug winds up not having a gun doesn't mean that the police officer knew this beforehand. And I certainly wouldn't take the word of a suspect. Good way to become a casualty. The police officers killed? Doing their jobs. The two cops killed in NYC were mi

There are those who hate winter. There are those who tolerate it. And then there are those of us who love it. I love it. Must be my Nordic blood. I have to cycle through the seasons like different courses of a meal. Just when summer provokes my maddening summer itching--an odd ailment that happens to my skin as the summer wears on--the temps start to cool and my body comes back into balance. Winter has its dangers too for me with my vulnerability of catching colds like a frog catches flies. Fall and Spring are respites to the dual bodily dangers. I think living in California or Florida would parch my soul. Winter brings a needed desolation. Truly, the best thing about winter is getting warm, something that is taken for granted during the heat of summer. Winter would hardly be appealing if I was cold 24-7. It is only the coat, the blanket, the heater, gloves, and hat, that kindle winter affection. When I attended Millersville University, I lived on the 9th floor of a Dorm Hi-Rise

About ten years ago, my nuclear and extended family eliminated gift-giving. First it was ending of the giving of gifts back-and-forth between each individual member and then there was the "select one person" and then that was axed. We killed it outright. I was thankful. We are geographically all over the place. So buying of the gifts had the mailing component on top of the selection stress. The kids were exempted. Under 18 years of age still get a Amazon Gift Card from me. I know, hardly the result of frantic and frenzied aisle roaming. It is the cash that counts. Back in the days of full gift-giving for all, I would buy the family books. I had a talent for discerning good books from what the Fam feedback told me. Although, I breathed a deep sigh of relief when the gift-giving concluded. I know what I want and need and hardly need someone else to buy it for me. If I want it, I purchase it. Otherwise, no need to procure it for me. This seems to be outright Un-America

One of the virtues of getting older is watching my idols get old too, decayed, and ultimately destroyed. Not by dynamite but by diminution. Idols are less tempting when one has a of long history with them. Time is usually one of the best tests. Relationships, goods, investments, education. The time test. An idol that I have really struggled until recently was competitive sports, specifically basketball--but also rugby to some degree. Basketball became the test of my value and worth. The scoreboard and scorebook dictating whether I was a winner or loser depending on my stats and the final score. The story is long of basketball losing its power over me. Like the untying a nasty shoelace knot and it has taken decades. Over 30 years. Bad knee, two surgeries, rehab, trying to become the man on whatever court I happened to be on. College, Rec League. So many young men succumb to this athletic idol...only to become TV sports watching middle-aged men with empty souls and big guts.  

There was an interesting exchange among friends on Facebook recently about Whole Foods putting a store where there used to be farmland here in Lancaster County. One friend commented about the irony of it. Another mentioned that he bought his produce from Central Market--the oldest continually operating market in the United States. A decade ago I was not real impressed with the stands because there was a lot of crap there like candy and Lancaster County knick-knacks. Now, it has a much healthier and hipper vibe. I commented on the Whole Food post that I grow my own produce in my small backyard, even the magical Kale that is all the rage everywhere. Radical! My Dad left a voicemail today commenting how I was probably out for a run or eating Kale which explained why I did not pick-up his call. I reminded him when I called back that I drink Kale--grind it up with V-8 into a smoothie and drink down the concoction. No fruit. Straight vegetables. Right now, I am attempting to grow Swiss

I really like my iPhone 5. I was never an Apple Groupie but when I got in the market for a smart phone, when the iPhone came out, I adopted it and became an instant fan. Intuitive and Intelligent. I am sure the Android devices are cool, too. I am using Google Classroom at school for my College & Career Class and since my course is all writing, Google Classroom is a fantastic technology tool. So, Google does great work and I am pretty sure will take over the world soon enough. Outside of the Google Maps app on the iPhone which has literally set this direction-impaired individual free, my next favorite app on the iPhone is the iTunes Podcast. Just as the convergence of Luther and the Printing Press (pic is of the first Bible printed) fueled the Protestant Reformation in Germany outwards, podcasts deliver high caliber preaching to my bedside nightly. Tim Keller, Alistair Begg, and R.C. Sproul are in heavy rotation. I rotate them to keep my mind from uneven wear like tires on t

Thursday evening, I had a Beer & Theology event on my calendar. Lingering in the back of my mind, like a whisper, was a tug of something else. I was not sure what it was. I had heard at some time in the past that Makoto Fujimura was coming to town to share a message about his new book Culture Care.  Coming in time just for Christmas! Culture generativity rather than war. Incarnation rather than fragmentation. Art not Drones.   Fujimura, I had heard (without recalling the exact date), was speaking at The Trust. A grand structure in downtown Lancaster, with high ceilings, ornate decoration, and heavy chiseled stone for walls. A former bank, it had set mostly empty for years besides a portion of the structure being used as a quilt museum. The icon on The Trust is a representation of the ceiling design. I had pondered earlier where the icon had come from until I peered up and connected the images. A bankrupt bank. Telling. Lancaster Bible College has recently resurrected the

I know I have not been very consistent with the blogging. My life has taken a serious turn into the extreme exertion arena. I am blogging right now on a Wednesday morning at 4:45 AM. We make time for things we value. Time is a most valuable asset. We only have so much of it in our life's bank and God is going to account how we spent it. I am reminded of that verse "Redeeming the time for it is evil." That evil time debt is everywhere.   Last week (Monday), my College and Career class that I am teaching started. The content of the course is essentially my Ph.D. and Master's degrees' work. Two and some decades of Doctoral and Master's work researching and thinking about what would help teens better prepare for college. Well, the research is now being tested on the the rails of reality large. So far, so good. I think. The kids will be the ultimate judge, as well they should be. So, it is about time go all out and see what happens. I ain't getting and y

Made some Pork Loin Korean BBQ the other day and the searing went up in smoke. Too much sugar in the sauce, too little butter in the skillet, too much heat underneath. The meat was still good but I lost control. Cleaning the skillet proved to be a long-process over several days. First, I scraped off what I could, then I soaked it in water and soap, and then I spread oil over the ruins. Bit by bit the bitterness came off, a flake at a time. We all hope life to be sweet and saucy with a bit of searing for taste. But, then that hope gets burned up into a pyre where what remains is bitter and black. We wash ourselves with the Word, chisel on through the hardened crust of life, and the Holy Spirit provides His oil of salve. Probably the most effective way to clean a pan like this is to crank up the heat until the bitterness lets go. It can only persist so long until it turns to ash under the extreme heat. I used to have an oven where its self-cleaning option essentially did this,

The other night I was running at midnight. Long and hard day at work, came home and fell asleep. Woke up around 12:00 and decided to lace up the jogging shoes and run my block four times (about 1.5 miles). Not normal but worked for me but not a charging dog one of my neighbors had let out of the house unleashed to do his business. When I run, I often get into a zone of sorts where I am focusing on the run and not super attentive to all the details around me except for trucks and cars. Dogs, like Jacks-in-the-Boxes, often shock me back into the here and now by their barking, and occasional charge and attack mode. My neighbor's dog was in full speed ahead with jaws ready to pounce when I yelled NO at forcefully as I could. The dog stopped in his tracks about 1 foot away, stunned. I proceeded to yell NO until he backed up and retreated. There was a nanosecond that seemed like eternity where I had to decide whether I was going to kick the dog is his face, stand my ground, or tur

I have had a groundhog-free summer in the garden. This makes me immensely happy beyond belief. I was just reading a gardening book where the author dedicated it to his nemesis, the gopher. I can relate. Maybe we can form a vermin support group. While on high alert for these filthy piles of fur called the groundhog, I was missing a much smaller foe. The worm or caterpillar (see on the pic). I suppose that the creature above turns into an even nastier winged nefarious instrument of destruction. Jesus spoke of moths destructing wordly apparel. The mere moth, agent of doom. We put our hope in o' so flimsy things. Conservatives, many of them Christians, put their assets in gold. It just shows what they trust in... I have to confess to being a dumb-ass. I had noticed for the last month or so holes in my Kale as if shot by a shot-gun blast. Because I am the lofty philosophical type, I did not ask the next question of what is eating it? It took a spider jumping out of the picked Kal

How important are books? Well, God thinks that books are so important that He inspired mankind to create a book of His words. The Bible...66 books written over a thousand of years. When skeptical scholars posit that the Scriptures were some type of inside job, a conspiracy, promulgating an oppressive religion, I wonder if they have actually read the Bible in depth. The Bible attacks the powerful, not the weak. It extols service rather than self-centeredness. What self-hating 1% of history would pen a book that would skewer their entire way of life? Not very likely. And we all know that the poor have the ways and means to write and print books... In fact, Jesus is called the Word. Heavy. And words created the Universe. Should make every English Lit and MFA student feel a surge of importance. Even if jobs are hard to come by. The great news is that if one loves words, a lot of what the world puts value on fades in importance. Even the most lonely and introverted can find solace

I struggled mightily to come up with a title for this week's blogpost. After a feverish second or two, The Grate Commission came to me. Puns are the primary school of humor. Can be witty depending on the depth of the reference. Like when I was in college, where the Study (actual last name) Twins roomed together in Burrowes Hall and I called them "Wombmates." Or when I asked a dude named Hair what the roots of his name was/were.  Or, when I titled our Resident Assistant Larry, Lawrence of R.A. Bia . I think I was funnier in college. Enough of Memory Lane. On my thrice weekly run to the river and back, for the last several months, I saw a sewer grate in the 'hood collecting more and more trash like a colander. McTrash from the local Big Arches down the road and assorted garbage. Someone asked on Twitter recently what this generation would leave behind to future generations. All I could think of was plastic. It grated on me that the grate was becoming the

Labor Day Weekend I headed up to my Dad's cabin in Monroe, New York. Skirting NYC to the left, traffic wasn't too bad except for about 15 minutes of a jam on the NY Thruway. Road tripping up, I was reacquainted with how great an album Achtung Baby is from U2. I didn't intentionally pull it from the case, it just was luck of the draw. His parents had first bought the place back in the late 50's as a refuge from New York City life, constraining and containing as it was. My grandparents had immigrated from Germany after WWI to the U.S. and did the whole American Dream thing. A cabin in the woods and by the lake was a small sign that America was their home. My Dad has spent the last 25 years or so rehabbing the place. The restoration of the Sistine Chapel even didn't take this long. It has kind of been my Dad's hobby and he fashions himself as Yukon George, forsaking modern amenities. Not really though. I did make him get a cell phone so that if he had an acc