Definitely Not PG

Disclaimer: I am NOT, by any means, saying that God condones things portrayed in our world's view of R-rating (drugs, violence, sex, and excruciatingly bad language). So don't misquote me.

I grew up in a Christian home, and, thus, was highly exposed to movies and books that depicts Bible stories. There are really nothing wrong with them. They are nice. They are good. They are consistent with the Bible. They are... clean.

I fully understand that these people made movies and books out of Bible stories for the whole family to enjoy. That is why they area all rated PG, or even G. A few weeks ago, in the middle of the chaos I call "Dead Week and Finals Week," I took a study break and began thinking about random subjects. God is the Master Storyteller. He came up with characters, conflicts, plot twists, and scenes none of us can even try to imagine. As I conversed with my roommate, who was also tired of studying, we got to the subject of how Bible stories really should not be rated PG. In a sense, they should be rated R.

Let's start someplace near the very beginning. Ah, the very first murder. Now this, ladies and gentlemen, is nowhere near PG-rated. A brother murdered his younger brother with a huge jagged rock. No clean and bloodless strangulation. No poisoning with wild herbs. Cain repeatedly hit his brother and did not stop until his brother lay lifeless, blood oozing freely from his open wounds.

Next comes the scene where a father was asked, by God, to sacrifice his one and only son as a burnt offering. I don't even want to start imagining that one. The whole idea of a father ending the life of his own flesh and blood and sets it ablaze on top of an altar could never ever fall under the category of something PG. It is an image no morally normal human being want to have in his or her mind.

Lot's daughters, after the catastrophe of Sodom and Gomorrah, got their father drunk and slept with him. Now that is an image I don't care to have in my head.

Dinah, Jacob's daughter, was raped. The Bible said that she was "violated." Out of anger and revenge, her brothers, Simeon and Levi, had the men of Shechem be circumcised and murdered. That was a massacre. Simeon and Levi killed every male in that city.

Our world is quite familiar with the idea of sexual seduction. (Don't act like you're surprised I just said that. It's everywhere! Try watching tv for a couple of hours.) Gorgeous women with sexy, seductive clothes on markets cars, cigarettes, computers, and many other things. The story of Joseph in the Bible went under a lot of censoring. When Potiphar's wife seduces Joseph, I am sure she did not only say, "Come to bed with me!" I'll leave you to your imagination and the influence of today's media to come to the same conclusion I did: this story's not PG either.

The ten plagues, the wrath of God spilled on the Egyptian kingdom, was nowhere near clean. It's gruesome. And gross. Death and destruction were everywhere. Water makes up 70% of the world's surface; when in place of water, you find fresh, thick blood, you feel so sick - the kind of nauseating sickness you feel after you watched "Sweeney Todd" - you wish you were dead. The plague of frogs was not where a bunch of cute harmless frogs come and play with you; they were slimey and gross, and you decide that you would rather starve to death than eat things contaminated by the slime and the smell of those amphibians. Now I come from a country that is located conveniently on the Equator. It is extremely hot and humid there. You find flies everywhere, but you can live with that because you can still drive them away from you. But when you look up the sky and it is covered with flies that sunlight cannot even pierce through their ranks, fear grips every single nerve in you. Talking about fear, it is normal for anyone to be afraid, or just to be more guarded, in the dark. However, when you are in the dark, you have the hope that the next day, the sun will come out and drive the darkness away. But when what was supposed to be day and night is inseparable, and darkness so thick you cannot see your hands in front of you engulfs, it unnerves even the bravest of heroes. And last of all, their own flesh and blood, lay lifeless in their hands. No one without blood smeared on their door frames were spared. I love how the Bible depicts it: "At midnight the LORD struck down all the firstborn in Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh, who sat on the throne, to the firstborn of the prisoner, who was in the dungeon, and the firstborn of all the livestock as well. Pharaoh and all his officials and all the Egyptians got up during the night, and there was loud wailing in Egypt, for there was not a house without someone dead" (Ex 12.29-30 NIV). I'm quoting the movie, "In Her Shoes," where an old lady commented, "A parent burying a child goes against the law of nature." And that, the most gut-wrenching plague that can ever descend on humanity, was what gave the Israelites their freedom. Was all that PG? I'll let you decide that one.

Moses, the renowned leader of the Israelites, the man who led the people of God out of slavery, murdered an Egyptian man. I love Dreamworks' "Prince of Egypt," but a murder is not clean. It's violent. Then we skip a few scenes to see Israel in the period of its conquest of the Promised Land. When they come and conquer a place, they were told to spare no one. Not even women and children. Imagine blood everywhere. Imagine dead bodies everywhere. Imagine lifeless children everywhere.

Let's jump to the story of Ruth; it's one of my favorite Bible stories. You might revisit the story and think, what part of it is not PG? The part where Ruth comes to the threshing floor and revealed her intentions or agenda, or whatever it is you'd like to call it, to Boaz. I love how, growing up, I've always picture the scene just like how it was portrayed in one of those old movies I watched: Boaz went to a party, he was tired, and then he went to rest at the threshing floor when Ruth came. (Yes, because the threshing floor is one's first choice to rest on.) Realistically? Boaz was out partying all night, eating and drinking. He was drunk! And then he passed out on the threshing floor. That was what Ruth saw when she came to him. I am just imagining Boaz's reaction when he woke up to see Ruth laying there. What is she doing here? Did we...? Did something happen? Oh crud. I'm sure Ruth had to calm him down, saying something like: "No, nothing happened. Calm down. Breathe. I have a question, though. Do you mind marrying me?" That would have been a hilarious scene to watch.


Now let's travel to Ruth's great grandson, the man that brought forth Israel's golden age. From his childhood, David has had to deal with wild anymals. Mind you, these are not animals from the zoo that have been accustomed to being oohed and aah-ed by people. These lions and bears are agile with their predator instinct still intact. These are the creatures David had to fight with. This man, unfortunately, had seen too many gory and bloody scenes, some too heart wrenching that I often wonder why David never lost his sanity. He had to see his son die, hanging by his beautiful hair from a tree, killed by David's own army commander. This same David was the king who stripped down and danced for the Lord shamelessly. David has also committed some foolish crimes of his own. One day, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time and saw this apparition - a beautiful woman bathing. His lust discarded all common sense and led him to take Batsheba, right there and then, even though he knew she was married. David then went above and beyond that. He murdered Bathsheba's husband, a good man and a good soldier. This particular story is very unfortunate; it involves sex, lust, and murder.

Songs of Solomon... Yeah, I won't even go there.

I'll jump straight to Jesus. You might ask, what do you have to say about Jesus being not PG? I think Jesus is not PG. He brings up ideas that challenge the mindset of the people around them. Some might think that he's coming up with wild conspiracy theories, or that he's delusional. But he's just providing us with a revelation that requires an individual much larger than humanity to provide. Jesus' death and suffering is one that can never be rated PG. It's much too horrific. I think Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" is as close to reality as it has ever been portrayed. "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay his life down for his friends." (John 15:13) Jesus was beaten, flogged, crucified. His beard was plucked out, he was paraded for all the world to see. He had nails hammered into his wrists and feet. His blood continually flowed out of his body, and he experienced pain like none other during those hours. Jesus is not "clean." He is most definitely not "safe," either. Like Aslan, from C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, Jesus is not "safe," but he is good.

I think I'm just rambling on and on and on. But the conclusion I have finally arrived to, after a few weeks of wandering thoughts, is that following God is not a "safe" thing. It's real. It's an adventure. If you're afraid to get hurt, or afraid of stepping on some toes, then you'll be very surprised. God is not safe, but he is good.

Leave It To Eve

Leave it to Eve to exaggerate matters;
Better yet, consider her a miracle maker.
For only Eve could create Atlantic from a salt shaker
Or form a betrothal from mere Platonic chatters.

Leave it to Eve to fall in love with timetrap
For she never could bear to exist in the present --
Living forever in yesterday's lament
Or skipping "hello" to "I do." (Oh poor chap!)

Leave it to Eve to be blinded by thoughts of love
And let one smile deceive her heart to soar.
She's left to see it shatter on the floor,
But that smile is the one thing she could think of.

Leave it to Eve to forget common sense
And say to a stranger, "I don't know you,
But you look kind of cute. So you'll just have to do."
Then, too late, she sees they can't even be friends.

Leave it to Eve to demand perfection
From all of creation except for Eve.
I'm afraid, dear girl, you are too naive,
And you're pushing your heart to dejection.

Leave it to Eve to rage in silence;
She expects Adam to be Merlin, and perceive,
Magically, that he has caused her to grieve.
But he's merely Adam, and for that she takes offense.

Leave it to Eve to mourn Adam's leave
(I really don't blame the man for escaping).
She complains he's creation's most obtuse thing,
But there's none as ridiculous as beautiful Eve.

Tirza Magdiel, April 27, 2008

This is what I have to say concerning my own gender. I would probably say that this poem is somewhat of a response to "Get A Clue." If boys are dumb, girls are ridiculous. I'm pretty sure that it is frustrating for guys to deal with girls. I'm sorry. There have been numerous times when I see girls being... well... girls, and there was nothing I can do but laugh. I am not excluding myself from the equation, because I, most definitely, was born with two X chromosomes and, thus, is prone to be ridiculously feminine. And so my final note to all the Adams out there: don't give up on your Eve.

Get A Clue

I've always said that boys are dumb. (Sorry,
History
Seems to agree with me.) Conveniently,
They're simply
Wired with an ON and OFF button. They complain,
Like in pain,
That girls are too complicated to perceive,
Then they leave
Us alone with our "complications." It is why,
I won't lie,
We have faders and knobs that pan left and right.
Quite a sight.

I don't say you're dumb because you're different.
What I meant
Was that you're too oblivious to notice
Obvious
Feelings. And when you finally do, you fear
What is near.
You're dumb because you leave and try to forget.
Then you get
It all of a sudden. But I won't be there, dear.
Shed no tear,
It's your fault you fail to grasp simple "I love you."
Get a clue.

Tirza Magdiel, April 2008

In Brit Lit II this semester, we were supposed to write a poem mimicking one of Robert Browning's poem. For that class, I wrote a poem called "Home." However, I was kind of frustrated this one day and started thinking about random things. I got thinking about why boys are dumb and came up with another poem mimicking a Browning poem. I'm not man-hating, I could tell you that for sure. I just have heard that phrase being thrown around a lot. Even I would use it a couple of times in different occasions. In high school one of my friends came up with this:

Guys are stupid, guys are dumb
All they do is just chew gum

Guys are stupid, guys are dumb
They say they will but they don't come

Something like that. So I ventured to try to explain why girls can say that guys are dumb. And I came up with this poem. I'm not bitter. I'm not mad. I'm just trying to communicate the frustration that girls experience when dealing with guys. It is a known fact that we, the female species, can never fully understand guys.

Home

My feet feel the warmth of my dream's promised land
Of white sand
And my gaze traced the curve of never ending gold,
Where the cold
Blue waves brush gently against it. I lift my face,
And with grace,
The wind caressed my cheeks and danced, without a care,
Through my hair.
I was there, by myself, and all I could hear
Was the clear
Voice of God and the wind and the sun and water
In laughter.

As Seattle's cold wind freezes my hands and feet,
My heartbeat
Longs for the rhythm of gurgling waves that crashes
Gold ashes
That peacefully lie in the sun's warm embrace;
The wind plays
With my hair instead of frosting it with ice,
And the nice
Gentle breeze brings laughter back to my voice
I rejoice
At the sight of my paradise, not just a poem.
I'll be home.

Tirza Magdiel, March 23, 2008

This is the mimic poem I wrote for my Brit Lit II class. It took me a whole century to get started with it. I didn't know what to write on. But amidst the coldness of Seattle March, I started thinking of this summer, when I get to go home. I picture myself, lying on the warm sand of Bali, and I knew exactly what I'm going to write on. I can't wait to go home and feel real sun again!

Not My Will

Ever wonder what God’s will for your life is? The whole idea of total will surrender to God have always fascinates me.

When talking about God’s will, it is just hard for me not to think about Jesus’ last night. Jesus knew all along that he had to die. I believe he have imagined how it will play out over and over again in his mind; and every time he does, dread creeps into the inner chambers of his being. The clock ticks, each second bringing him closer to insuperable pain and humility. I could imagine Jesus, eating the Passover meal with his disciples, the people he have spent three years together, the people he have grown accustomed to - Peter with his short temper but teachable heart, John the disciple very close to Jesus’ heart, and of course, Judas. How it breaks his heart, knowing that very moment Judas is thinking of turning him in for thirty pieces of silver. The disciples are all laughing and merrily enjoying each other’s company, ignorant to the fact that within hours, Jesus will endure the most painful day in his life. He tries to enjoy the feast that is in front of him; however, the thought of the path ahead of him triumphed over all appetite and hunger. Restlessness slid to his heart and perspiration dampens his hands as he holds the cup containing wine. “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you,” Jesus said, hoping that his voice would not betray the fear and sadness that overwhelms him. That night, in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus talks to his Father. He knows that this is his mission; he has to die. But the thought of all the things they can do to him brought him to his knees. The fear and the dread of his encounter with death gave pains him to the point where he can no longer stand. Tears no longer can communicate the stress and the anxiety that conquered his mind and body. He touches his forehead to wipe the perspiration off and saw that his sweat was no longer clear. It was crimson. Jesus cries out with anguish, and unable to contain this torture, he cried out to his Father. “If you are willing,” he cried, “take this cup from me.” As he pleaded to his Father, he knew that this is his part, written in the Great Book of his Father, the Author. He can simply get up and leave, turning his back on all mankind - past, present, and future - and avoid this agony. But this is not a matter of what he wants, Jesus realized. It is a matter of what my Father wants. With complete surrender, Jesus yielded, “Not my will, but Yours be done.”

Choosing God’s will over our own is never an easy task to do. Especially for me.

I am a planner. I plan everything. About three years ago, when I was a junior in high school, I had my life all planned out. After finishing high school, I was going to study Music Performance in New York University. After four years of studying a subject very close to my heart, I was going to do what I enjoy doing most: sing. I planned to get married by the age of 24 and I planned to have three kids - a boy and two adorable girls. I know exactly what I wanted, and I thought that was exactly what I needed. My prayers to God were not anything close to Jesus’ prayer. Mine was more like a restaurant order: this is what I want, and this is what I need you to do.

There is one lesson that God wanted me to learn: that I am not God.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the LORD.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways,
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow come down from heaven
and do not return to it without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth.
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”

Isaiah 55:8-11

Learning that lesson - believe me, I am still learning - is a painful process for me. But now, three years later, I find myself in Kirkland, Washington, studying Youth Ministry in Northwest University. This is not part of the plan, at least not part of mine. When people ask me what I plan to do after I graduate, I have to be honest: I have no clue. Three years ago, that answer is not in my vocabulary. Now, it is, and I am okay with it. When people ask me when I want to get married, the answer is also: I have no idea. And I am okay with it. When my girlfriends ask me how many kids I want after I get married, the answer is: three. But I will be as content and as grateful to God if he gives me four, two, one, or even no children at all as if he gives me three children.

After three years of disciplining me in the area of “letting God be God,” I no longer have the need to be the planner of my life. I figured out that it is too big of a task for me to handle, so I just give it up to the creator of my life, the one who has the blueprint entitled “Tirza” in his hands. Now, he has another aspect of the lesson for me to learn: how to figure out the will of God in my life.

These past four weeks have been a great struggle for me to figure out God’s will in my life - actually, it is to figure out God’s will in a certain aspect of my life. I really want to do God’s will, but I did not know what God’s will is. If I know what it is, I will gladly choose it. The problem was: I did not know what God wants me to do. I knew what I want, but I wanted to know what God wants.

I was confused, frustrated, and depressed.

After much agony and tears, I decided to live my life and see where God is guiding me. As I go through the days following my decision, I thought that everything would go like how I wanted it to because it looked perfect. I enjoyed every single moment of it.

Yesterday, I felt something in my spirit. I do not know why or how, but I felt no peace. I had to sit down and think about everything. I knew that the Holy Spirit is nudging me to make the decision to do what I did not want to do.

I gave in. I knew that God is revealing his will for me, and I felt at peace because he revealed his will and now it is time for me to obey. I knew exactly what to do.

Today, as I stood outside in the sun, it felt as if God was smiling at me and said, “thaddagirl”

I am broken, but it is oh so wonderful.

“At the cross you beckon me
You gently draw me to my knees
and I am lost for words, so lost in love
I’m sweetly broken, wholly surrendered.”