Dionysus: Himbo Scholar

"You two are living together. Tell me more about that," I said in my office. "We already know it's not Biblical," the bride-to-be said. "Okay. Say more." "What do you mean? I'm saying we know cohabitation isn't Biblical." "Yeah that's what's confusing me. When you asked to meet, you told me you wanted a pastor who shares your Biblical values to do your wedding, but now you're telling me you knowing don't live according to Biblical values? Tell me about how you decided to cohabitate." "Well, we know what the Bible says about marriage and sex, but my lease was up and if I moved in with my parents it'd be a 45 minute drive and if I got my own place again, it'd be a waste of thousands of dollars." "Ah. So time and money are your gods." "No they aren't, we're Christians." "Maybe. But it seems like you're not - a god is what tells you how to live. You chose to listen to time and money on sex and cohabitation instead of Jesus. Which is your god?" "Does this mean you won't do our wedding?" "I didn't say that. But, you did say you wanted a pastor. That's why we're here. I'm a pastor, not a hireling wedding officiant. Do you want a pastor or a vender for your wedding?" "A pastor." "Okay, great. Then here's my concern for you: you've developed a habit of hardening your hearts against the authority of Scripture and the conviction of the Holy Spirit. Today, if you hear his voice, don't harden your hearts as they did in the rebellion. You said your Christians, I'll take your word for it right now, but you need to repent and move out until your wedding night. Jesus will certainly forgive if you repent and he'll cleanse you from all unrighteousness." "Okay. So, if we don't do this then you won't do our wedding?" "You're missing the point here. You're not even close to worried enough about what God thinks or says. My job as a pastor is to help you care about what God says, not get you to care about what I say.” “Okay.” “Do you have anything to say?” I said to the Groom-To-Be. “No.” “That’s a bummer. You’re not going to lead this family if you have nothing to say.” “Okay.” “Alright. Well, you have a lot to think about. If you want a pastor, I’d be happy to be a part of your wedding. If you want a vendor, let me know. More important than your wedding is your relationship with Jesus. Is He your God or not? Think and pray together.” *an email three days later* “We’ve decided to go a different direction.” — Some thoughts: 1. My heart breaks for those who make time and money their god. This idolatry is oppressive. 2. I’d for sure officiate the wedding of two non-Christians. As long as they’re okay with me telling the truth about what marriage is and who and what it’s for, I’m in. This is a 10/10 evangelism opportunity straight out of Eph 5:32. 3. But, two professing Christians who are sinning highhandedly? No. “For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside.” 1 Co 5:12–13).

Ok lads: imagine you aren’t horny at all. Not even slightly. You’re busy fixing a shelf or ironing your suit or watching your favourite TV show. Zero sexy feelings. Your girlfriend sighs loudly and goes “can we have sex now” in whingy voice and then grabs your ass. She then sulks and starts whining when you aren’t instantly aroused and into it and starts saying you haven’t had sex for 3 days. Annoying? Not very sexy? GOOD YOU UNDERSTAND WHY PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE INSTA-HORNY BEHAVIOUR IS ANNOYING

For fifty eight years, my boss in Tokyo believed that beef should be sliced as thin as paper. In Japan, we cook thin meat for four seconds in boiling broth. That is our way. Then last month, the YouTube algorithm showed Director Sato a video of a man in Texas smoking a brisket. It changed his life. On Monday morning, he called me to his desk. His eyes were bloodshot. "Have you seen this?" he whispered, turning his monitor toward me. "The American pitmaster does not sleep for sixteen hours. He sits by the fire in the dark. He guards the meat like a castle." I said, "Sir, it is just a barbecue." He slammed his hand on the desk. "This is not cooking," he said. "This is a vigil." Last Saturday was our annual company picnic by the river in Kanagawa. Normally, we grill thin meat and yakisoba for two hours and go home at 2:00 PM. I arrived at 9:30 AM to help set up. Director Sato was already there. I want to be accurate here: he had been sitting in a folding chair since 10:00 PM on Friday night. He was wearing a towel around his head and staring at a massive black barrel smoker he had imported from Oklahoma. Inside I said: THIS MAN HAS ABANDONED CORPORATE LIFE FOR THE SMOKE. When we tried to help him, he held up a pair of metal tongs and clicked them twice. "Step back," he said calmly. "The stall has begun. Nobody opens the lid." Twelve Japanese accountants stood in complete silence around a barrel for four more hours. Nobody dared to eat a single noodle until he gave the signal. At 1:45 PM, he sliced the meat. It fell apart on the cutting board. My boss looked at the pink smoke ring, nodded once, and wiped a single tear from his cheek. He has already submitted an official budget request for a trailer smoker for next fiscal year.