What's in a name?

Nathanael Thomas Gibson: My full name.

Nathanael: Hebrew; means "God has given"; named for the disciple of Christ.
Thomas: Aramaic; means "Twin"; named for my paternal grandfather.
Gibson: Scottish; means "Son of Gilbert"

Nathanael Thomas: What I heard when I was in trouble as a child, often spoken briskly in dynamics ranging from forte to fortissimo by my parents.

Nathan: What people who have only just met me, or who do not know me very well occasionally call me.

Nate: Default setting; Friends & family alike typically use this shortening of Nathanael to address me.

Nator: About half of my friends in high school gave me this nickname, short for Nator-Gator (which they would sometimes use). Most of these friends still call me Nator to this day, and even some of their parents use this nickname when they see me.

Gibby: What the other half of my friends in high school called me. Interestingly, it seems to be totally random as to which friends called me "Nator" and which called me "Gibby"--must have been a strange matter of preference. One of my friends attended the same college as I did, and carried the nickname with him and so to my college roommates, I was known as "Gibby". I found out on the last day of class this past school year that my Humanities class affectionately referred to me as "Gibby" when talking to each other throughout the school year, after hearing me talk about nicknames once in class.

Gibbs: A shortened version of "Gibby" used by only a few of my friends during high school. I much preferred the aesthetic sound of this nickname.

Pancho: My self-selected moniker for 2 years of high school Spanish. No relationship to my name, but whenever I would speak in Spanish with my friends, they would refer to me as Pancho (irregardless of whether they usually addressed me as "Gibby" or "Nator")

Nibson: Portmanteau of my first and last names, created by the JAM leaders three years ago when they weren't sure whether to call me "Nate" or "Mr. Gibson" (I wasn't actually teaching at the time). Still used by my former JAM leaders to address me, and even some of my freshmen who attended JAM when I was leading.

Mr. Gibson: What I hear the most these days. I'm amazed that I've gotten used to it.

Winter-time

With each passing day, there seem to be less leaves on the trees,
more plastered to the asphalt in the plaza at school.

Though the temperature is nowhere near as cold as that of an Iowa winter,
the wind has enough of a bite to it,
that I am opting to spend 1st period indoors
and not at my cherished picnic table.
Moments of blue skies and sunshine
are few and far between.
Instead, the sky is a shroud of gray
that some might call dismal.

In two weeks, campus will be mostly deserted.
There's a distinct feeling of things slowing down,
(Though in the moment, for students and teachers alike,
life is busy, even hectic),
and all will be still;
the campus devoid of life.

There's a sad beauty in the stillness.

Sadness, because death is heartbreaking...

...Beauty, because even death is not permanent.

Hope

"Send forth your light and your truth,
let them guide me;
let them bring me to your holy
mountain,
to the place where you dwell.
Then will I go to the altar of God,
to God, my joy and my delight.
I will praise you with the harp,
O God, my God.

Why are you so downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God."

Psalm 43: 3-5

Discontentment. A million things can be going right, but all it takes is one thing to go wrong, one thing to not turn out as I had wanted for me to feel deeply discouraged. This happens to me more frequently than I care to admit.

Sometimes, things don't even have to go wrong--they just have to feel "off". If my perception so strongly influences whether or not I feel content, then what does that say about where I am putting my hope?

When my hope is truly in God, there is a sense of all-pervading joy; a desire to worship even when life is stressful and things have not gone my way. Unfortunately, my heart is too fickle and easily enticed to place hope elsewhere.

This passage reminds me that God's larger purposes and plans are to bring His lost sheep into His presence. There may be times where we feel lost and alone, and as though nothing is going the way it should, but we must never lose heart! God will draw us near--He has sent Jesus, the absolute embodiment of light and truth, to be our guide. With such wondrous love bestowed upon us, how can discontentment be anything but fleeting and skin-deep?

I need to remember this--particularly as I head into the last two busy school-weeks before Christmas.

The Search for a Home-Church

When I moved to Japan, and even for quite a while afterward, one of my biggest concerns was finding a home-church. Growing up, I was blessed with a really good home-church with solid preaching and a wonderful church community. I struggled to find a home-church during college, and there were several very long stretches during those 4 years where I simply didn't go to church. College was a very tough time for me (and possibly the only time in my life that I'm tempted to regret... of course, my college years have much to do with where I am today, so I could never seriously regret them).

So, when I moved to Japan, I was determined not to let that happen to me again. It's taken a few years of attending several different churches, but I think that I have finally found a place that feels like it could be a good home-church.

I started attending Grace City Church in August when I returned to Japan from the states. I found it while running a Google search for churches in Tokyo, and what had immediately caught my eye was a YouTube video on the website with a short description of the church by Tim Keller, pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City. I was familiar with Keller, as my pastor in Lynden occasionally quotes Keller, my dad has used Keller's study materials in teaching Sunday School classes, and I have read several books by Keller. I have always appreciated Keller's perspective and enjoyed his writings; as I watched the YouTube clip, I learned that Redeemer had sponsored a church plant in downtown Tokyo.

As I read more materials on the website, I learned that several of the pastoral team were CAJ parents (one even a board member). Several days later, I traveled downtown to attend their Sunday afternoon service in Ginza. What I found was a small congregation meeting in a rather cozy venue on the 11th floor of the Caspa building. Though everything was in Japanese (with English translation provided via headset), I appreciated the mixture of contemporary songs and hymns (all of which were familiar from my own home-church), and the solid, expository sermon.

In the intervening months, I have not made it downtown for church as regularly as I had hoped--from the time I step out my door, it takes roughly an hour to arrive at church. Some weeks, my laziness gets the best of me. Yet, every time I've attended, I have felt nourished; fed. I particularly appreciate the preaching--Pastor Makoto has been preaching on Isaac, Jacob and now Joseph. He takes a passage (typically an entire story) each week and unpacks it, explaining the context and story, while making broader connections to the person of God and fulfillment in Christ. It's a very similar approach to the one used by my pastor in the states, and beyond the familiarity, I find it to be a style of preaching that not only informs and illuminates, but challenges as well (and all without the superficiality, gimmickiness and emotional manipulation that plague so many pulpits today).

I am beginning to feel at home at Grace City. My challenge to myself in the coming weeks and months will be to fully invest in this church community. Up till now, I've tried my best to be a spectator; a fly-on-the-wall--simply there to worship and listen to the sermon and nothing more. Increasingly, I'm realizing that there's more to church than that--church is about community: fellowship in Christ. Yes, it is more difficult to make a commitment to a community that requires just under an hour of commute, but I think that the investment will be more than worth it. I need to dive in--get involved; get to know people; become a member and not just an observer.

I think I could be in Japan for the long-haul. I am not sure what long-haul even means, but I am fairly certain I am not leaving before I'm 30. In college, I would rationalize my lackluster church attendance by saying, "well soon I'll graduate and then I'll go home to Lynden and catch up on all the church I missed at Wiser Lake Chapel." Aside from being a rather lame rationalization, it's simply not feasible as there's no permanent return to the states in my foreseeable future. Japan is my home now, and I need to care for my spiritual health. This means finding a new home-church, and I believe that God has answered nearly 3 years worth of prayers by leading me to Grace City Church. The next step, to commit or to drift, is up to me.

More Cool Moments in Teaching

I am taking a break from reading essays to... write!!! Ah, the life of an English teacher :)

So, God has been answering prayers left and right this week--a while back I vented some of my frustrations with a class that was not using time well, as well as some of my frustrations with myself for not knowing how best to teach them.

All it took was one student to totally make my week (actually there were a lot of students who made my week, but all it would've taken was this one). He had been sort of unmotivated going into our unit on Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, and had asked early on why we were bothering reading an entire book about 19th century chattel slavery in the south. I'd had a decent discussion with him at the time, reminding him that though slavery was abolished in America, it continues to thrive in other parts of the world even to this day, and that though the book was certainly old, the truths about human value presented in the book were timeless. He still had seemed skeptical after our conversation, but dutifully read through the rest of the book.

Fast-forward to this week. We were preparing for our in-class essay on Incidents and our final unit essay on one of 3 essential questions:

1) How does a value for diversity create true equality?
2) How does "loving your neighbor" balance the tension between order and freedom?
3) What does it take to preserve and protect freedom?

In leading a workshop on how to write a solid introduction, I had shown the students several samples from the year before--introductory paragraphs that, despite my conspicuous lack of instruction on how to write them, had been beautifully and clearly crafted (thanks to the God-given talents of their gifted writers). I pointed out the hooks--the opening lines which sought to invite the reader in: engaging questions; thought-provoking quotes; short, yet poignant anecdotes. I spent even more time emphasizing the need for a strong thesis, and demonstrated how the best theses were clear and made it possible for the reader to make a basic outline of the rest of the paper without even reading ahead.

This student, who had been wary of the importance of reading Incidents, approached me a while later. By his own admission, he's never been a big fan of school, and especially not English or History classes, perhaps due to his years of taking ESL and struggling with writing effectively in English.

"Mr. Gibson," he said, "I want to be able to write like that." He indicated the sample paragraphs, still displayed on the projector screen.

"Will you work with me, and help me to improve?" He asked solemnly.

I was momentarily speechless--I am used to having students do what they need to do, but for a student to so specifically express a desire to improve caught me off-guard. Yet, I used the moment of silence to fix eye contact with him and smile.

"Absolutely. Come talk to me if you want me to read over what you've got at any step in the process, and I'll let you know what's going well, what you can work on, and how you can improve."

He nodded and returned to his seat.

I stood there wondering what I'd done right.

Thank you, God, for moments like these!

Everlasting Light

"The sun will no more be your light by
day,
nor will the brightness of the moon
shine on you,
for the LORD will be your everlasting
light,
and your God will be your glory.
Your sun will never set again,
and your moon will wane no more;
the LORD will be your everlasting light,
and your days of sorrow will end.
Then will all your people be
righteous
and they will possess the land
forever.
They are the shoot I have planted,
the work of my hands,
for the display of my splendor.
The least of you will become a
thousand,
the smallest a mighty nation.
I am the LORD;
in its time I will do this swiftly."

Isaiah 60: 19-22

The seasons are again turning, and there has been an unmistakably wintry feel in the air for the last week: low temperatures, but more than that, a biting, chilly wind and the perpetual shroud of gray that looks like it should yield snow. Also, it has been getting dark very early; in fact, the sun is already beginning to set by the time school gets out at 3:30.

Darkness. It's just part of the fabric of these winter months in Tokyo. It makes me so grateful for the ability to flip a switch and bring light into a room. I suppose that regardless of what winter in Israel was like, the people had a very different understanding of darkness. While electricity enables us to keep working and living after the sun sets, the Israelites' options were somewhat more limited.

Everlasting light. That's quite a promise. It's a promise that we may be somewhat numb to today--though lightbulbs are anything but everlasting, we can easily buy into the illusion that we have the option of everlasting light. The Israelites knew better: lamps run out of oil. Torches burn out. The sun sets. The moon wanes. In their experience, there was no such thing as everlasting light.

And yet, this is the imagery that God paints in describing the coming of Christ. I bet it would have packed a punch for the Israelites, for whom the darkness was something unconquerable, ominous and frightening.

...Have we, today, really conquered the darkness? Maybe we've achieved limited victories against physical darkness, but against spiritual darkness we have made little headway. We are every bit in the dark as the Israelites were, and are in need of that same, spectacular everlasting light.

If you've tried to wander around in a dark room, you know full well that the absence of light can mess with your sense of space. You forget where the coffee table is, and bang your shin against the corner; you knock something off a shelf; you bump into the wall... it's confusing, it's chaotic, and you make mistakes that you wouldn't make if the room were illuminated.

Sin--spiritual darkness--does the same thing to our sense of justice, our sense of right and wrong. We trample over things; we make bad decisions; we damage ourselves and others in ways that we wouldn't if we were close to God instead of rebelling.

So the promise of everlasting light is a promise for salvation from sin and all of the sorrow that sin invariably causes. The words that conclude this passage promise that the LORD would bring this light swiftly--for the Israelites, it would be hundreds of years before Christ was born. Today, we wait--swiftly will mean what it will. May your return be swift, oh Everlasting Light!

A Righteous Branch

"'The days are coming,' declares the LORD, 'when I will fulfill the gracious promise I made to the house of Israel and to the house of Judah.

'In those days and at that time
I will make a righteous Branch
sprout from David's line;
he will do what is just and right in
the land.

In those days Judah will be saved
and Jerusalem will live in safety.
This is the name by which it will be
called:
The LORD Our Righteousness.'"
Jeremiah 33:14-16

In my 9th grade World History class, we've been looking at the historical context surrounding Christianity. As we prepared to look closely at the effect that the Roman Empire had on Christianity (from Pax Romana, to persecution, to eventual acceptance and legalization), we took a step back and took a broad view of Israel's history.

God intended for Israel to be standing stones at the crossroads of the known world. Literally--Tel Gezer, for example, stood directly at the crossroads that connected the Via Maris and the King's Highway (the major trade arteries which ran between Mesopotamia and Egypt). From their humble promised land, the Israelites had access to key points of influence--trading hubs that conveyed not only goods but ideas to the corners of the earth.

The Israelites were called to bless the world by living for God, and we know that they failed on countless occasions to do so. It's easy to criticize them, but we often fall short in similar ways: we know what it means to live for God and yet we do the opposite. Despite the weakness of the Israelites, and in the midst of punishment, these words that Jeremiah shared with them must have been so tremendously powerful.

Oh, but this wasn't just a promise to the Israelites at the expense or exclusion of everyone else... Through the Branch of David's line, we, too have been grafted into the vineyard. We share the calling to bless those around us, to live as standing stones--testimonies--to God's greatness. Judah's safety and Jerusalem's salvation are extended to even those of us who have never set foot on Israel's soil. Though our lives may seem chaotic on occasion, and filled with troubles, we must never forget the promises that God has made, even from of old. After all, the One who was foretold in this passage did what was right and just in the land, as God said. He even gave His life for us. Now, we wait for His return and we take heart, even in the midst of trouble.