Yesterday, I attended a New Year’s party. Don’t get me wrong, I had a lot of fun. This was actually the fourth year in a row I’ve attended the same party. There’s always a great band, a live DJ, tons of games, and amazing company. Unfortunately, the hors d’oeuvres department was lacking, but this party is usually attended by upwards of 400 people, so I always let this slide. It got me thinking though. I took some time out to think through some of the reasons why people celebrate New Year’s. 

For most, New Year’s exists as a symbol of opportunity. It’s a fresh clock. A clean slate. For some, It’s a chance to build off the achievements and circumstances of the previous year. For others, it’s a chance to turn their backs on the pain, heartbreak, and suffering that they’ve endured and take a hopeful step forward into the unknown. A lot of people take the opportunity of a new year to commit to resolutions. Most, if not all, centre around bettering oneself over the next 12 months. 

But what would happen if we did accomplish all of our resolutions? Could we ever get to a point where we are completely satisfied with ourselves? If we were able to look in the mirror and confidently proclaim that there is absolutely no more room for improvement and that we are as good as can possibly be, would that satisfy us? Then what? Where does this desire for betterment come from? Is there an objective standard for us to strive for? 

The media gives us a standard to strive for. Our culture does the same thing. Lose weight, tone up, dress slick, get hitched, find a career, be happy. I sincerely hope my year isn’t wasted chasing these things. They are not inherently bad things, but they will not fill the emptiness in my life. This is my prayer for 2012.

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Romans 12:1-2

While I do wither a little bit inside every time I hear someone make a “Friday” joke, I fully understand why the song has gotten so much attention. It’s hilarious. What puzzles me is when journalists and music aficionados attack this song as if it were intended as some sort of masterpiece. Billboard.com’s critique of this piece is equivalent to Roger Ebert reviewing an episode of Teletubbies (Not that I would ever consider Billboard’s opinion on music to be on par with Ebert’s opinion on movies). Until “Friday” wins Video of the Year at the BET Awards, I feel like people have no right to be angry. If this music video upset you, you should probably go back to reading reviews on Pitchfork and leave these poor tweens to indulge in their sonic junk food while they still can. It won’t be long until they’re forced by society to listen to music they don’t like for the sake of being part of ‘indie’ culture. Don’t lie, I know you do it. I’m on to you…

While I’m up here on my high horse, I might as well make a suggestion. Instead of looking at Rebecca Black’s Friday as an irreparable disaster, why don’t we turn this into a teachable moment. I’m willing to bet that anyone who listens to mainstream music and has criticized Friday either has I Gotta Feelin’ on their iPod or has at least once joined a chorus of people belting out the tune in a total display of disregard towards everyone within earshot. Has anyone ever actually listened to the lyrics of that song? When you compare the two songs, they’re alarmingly similar. They both have an identical theme: enjoy the weekend. The only notable difference in lyrical content is how they will go about enjoying their respective nights and how they generally spend their week.

Rebecca Black is a 13-year-old who wakes up at 7am, eats cereal, catches her school bus, and has fun on Friday. Her biggest problem is deciding which seat to take in a car full of her friends. None of this seems extremely out of the ordinary. Let’s look at the most made-fun-of part in the song.

“Yesterday was Thursday. Today is Friday.

We so excited, we gonna have a ball today.

Tomorrow is Saturday, and Sunday comes afterwards.

I don’t want this weekend to end”

Okay, kind of ridiculous. Surely a group of adults can craft a more intelligent song than this though, right? I would hope so, but this isn’t the case.

The Black Eyed Peas consists of four middle-aged adults who anticipate a good night ahead. They have money and spend it up. They fill up their cups, look at girls dancing and taking their clothes off, p-p-p-party everyday, and jump off sofas (seriously… this is actual lyrical content from their song). Let’s take a look at the lyrical masterpiece they’ve chosen as their bridge.

“Let’s do it, let’s do it, let’s do it, let’s do it.

And do it and do it, let’s live it up.

And do it and do it and do it, do it, do it,

Let’s do it, let’s do it, let’s do it, do it, do it, do it, do it.”

Riveting. The Black Eyed Peas also demonstrate that they, being adults, have a much higher intellectual capacity than a teenager. While Rebecca Black only seems to have a grasp of the days Thursday through Sunday, the Black Eyed Peas impressively outdo her by naming every single day of the week in their song.

Rebecca is starting to look like quite the intellectual now, isn’t she? At least her bridge follows a logical train of thought. As simple as it is, I feel like her verse attempts to communicate an idea through a proper sentence, albeit slightly lacking in grammatical integrity. The Black Eyed Peas just repeat ‘do it’ like fifty times.

Rebecca Black isn’t destroying the music industry. She’s just snuggled into a niche that already exists. Rebecca Black is simply a caricature of what is currently all over our radio stations. In a nutshell, intentionally or not, she’s just showing us what’s already wrong with pop music. Don’t shoot the messenger.

John 15:13

I don’t deserve the friendships I’m blessed with.

Some of my best current friends I’ve known since I was 5. Don’t know why they stuck around me, but I’m thankful that they did. They’re closer than brothers and I would do absolutely anything for them. There have been ups and downs, but these friendships have stood the test of time and it’s made me understand what true friendship looks like.

Some of my best current friends I’ve met fairly recently. They are a constant source of joy and encouragement. I did nothing to deserve them either. I wouldn’t be as grounded as I am without them in my life. They’re the best thing I’ve gotten out of Ryerson. My $28,000 degree means nothing compared to the people God has surrounded me with during my time here.

Some of my best current friends are family. I know plenty of people who don’t get along with their families quite as well as I do. I say I’m lucky, but luck has nothing to do with it. I’m blessed beyond reason.

I’d like to think that I would die for these people. I can’t say with absolute certainty that I would feel the same way with a gun pointed to my head, but I’d like to think I would. It makes sense that I would want to die for them, based on the immeasurable joy that my friends have brought me throughout my lifetime. If they hated me, I’d probably be a little less inclined to die for them.

When put into this perspective, it blows my mind to think that though I’ve turned my back on Jesus and rebelled in every way possible, He would still die for my sake.

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person — though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die — but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Romans 5:6-8

Thank you God for your unrelenting grace. Thank you for continually pursuing me, though I fail time and time again. Thank you for your infinite patience. Thank you for showing me the Greatest Love there is.

Our media is no longer confined to a weekly schedule of programming. I suppose in some ways it still is, but with online streaming, on demand cable, and services like netflix, we can watch almost anything at any time we’d like. And because it’s so simple, we tend to do it more. I’ve watched 13 episodes of Community in the last two days. That’s kind of ridiculous.

…I should probably stop using the pronoun we, since it should be abundantly clear that I’m using myself as an example as someone who does these things.

I have an iPhone. Whether I’d admit it to you in person or not, I treat it as if it’s my lifeline. What does this iPhone provide me with? Instant access to information about absolutely anything. The only time I don’t have instant access is when I’m in a subway tunnel. I’m okay with this only because I know the tunnel will soon end and my lust for information will soon be gratified.

I have a job. I don’t make enough to build my bank account, but I make enough to fill my stomach with whatever food I desire to fill it with whenever I desire to fill it. I basically work to eat. I’ll talk about this more in a later post.

When I think about it, I guess I give in to these desires for instant gratification because I believe they will instantly make me happier or satisfied in some way. But to be honest I never really feel better.

It’s depressing standing up from a couch and noticing the sizeable imprint of my increasingly rotund body in the couch I’ve sat on for hours watching television. It’s depressing finishing a baconator only to realize you’re seven bucks poorer and probably about seven days closer to death. It may not be depressing, but it sure isn’t gratifying to be stuck to your phone all day.

My point is, if I don’t find satisfaction in these things, why do I continue to do them?

Since I’m fasting as a way to strengthen my relationship with God, I naturally turn my mind towards Him when I consciously abstain from what I’ve chosen to fast from. It may not necessarily be an organized prayer, but an awareness of Him is created. This happened to me several times throughout the day, and with good results. Though I worked a total of 12 hours today and am now exhausted, I felt much more connected with God in a way I’ve previously only ever felt on retreats or during worship services. I was also uncharacteristically optimistic today. Go figure.

It’s only the second day and I’m already seeing the benefits of this endeavour. There are a few ideas that I’m excited to write about once they’re more fleshed out. I just hope the blogging continues to be an aid, rather than become a distraction.

I’ve dismissed Lent for years because I’ve always thought that it was too ritualistic. I didn’t think I needed to do anything in order to win God’s favour, because I had gained favour through Christ. But I think I was missing the point. There are so many things that I can point out in my life that completely distract me from my relationship with God. I think deep down I never entertained the idea of lent because I didn’t want to go 40 days without anything I would really miss. I occasionally gave up something as a joke (like sardines for example) but I never gave up anything for the sake of trying to better my relationship with God.

This year I’m going to give it a shot with a new perspective. I’m going to give up a few things that either take up my time, my money, or both. I’m not doing this to be more acceptable towards God, because I know nothing other than Christ can do that for me. I’m not doing this as an idle challenge, just to see if I can make it 40 days without a cheeseburger (which might sound like a joke to you, but I can assure you I’ve never gone 40 days without a cheeseburger). I’m not doing this to seem pious or super-religious.

I am doing this in an effort to spend more of my new found free-time meditating, worshipping, and praying to the God I claim to love so dearly. My goal is to come out of these 40 days with a new love for God that is stronger than I’ve ever experienced.

My blogging isn’t a way for me to show off, and I hope it doesn’t come across that way. In fact, if no one read a single entry, I wouldn’t be in the slightest bit put off. My daily posts are a way of keeping me accountable. I intend on writing a short entry every day on whatever I’ve been meditating on. I don’t doubt that I will fail at some point but it is my hope that these posts will keep me diligent and on the right track. If you happen to be reading this, and you happen to be a person who prays, I would greatly appreciate your prayers during the next 40 days. I’m weak and I will fail, but by God’s grace I hope to come out of this stronger in my faith.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

Then, this happened…

The Big Cheese

Which soon turned into this…

Stage 3

Which finally turned out like this…

Final Product.

Which will eventually turn me into this…

The Verdict:

Jr. Chicken: Calories: 380, Sodium: 760 mg, Total fat: 20g, Saturated fat: 4g

Small Fries: Calories: 230, Sodium: 160 mg, Total fat: 11g, Saturated fat: 1.5g,

1 cup cheese: Calories: 455, Sodium: 701 mg, Total fat: 37.4g, Saturated fat: 23.8g

1 pound bacon: Calories: 687, Sodium: 2934 mg, Total fat: 53.1g, Saturated fat: 17.4g

Total: Calories: 1752, Sodium: 4555mg, Total fat: 121.5g, Saturated fat: 64.1g

—

Should I be proud, or should I feel disgusted? I imagine this is the same conflicting emotion one might experience after giving birth to an ugly baby. I am, however, fairly impressed that I inspired someone else to make one tonight, too. I guess my judgement isn’t the only one that’s askew at 3am in the morning. She didn’t have any Mcdonalds in her weave, but I heard rumors of a possible hot dog floating around in there somewhere… I’m so glad I could be an inspiration to someone. Please don’t have a heart attack tonight, Sarah. I’ll deny everything.

But who can blame us? Not much else happens in this vapid little city of ours. We have to cling to what we can. Our politics are nowhere near as exciting or tempestuous as the public affairs of the U.S., The best thing we have to entertain us now is Mr. Ford, and even he’s been pretty boring lately. (Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad our city is boring. That means it’s safe.)

In essence, Toronto needed to blow this snowstorm out of proportion. We needed something to complain about. We needed something that would break the mundane workaday curse that this city suffers from. We needed to feel like kids again. Our city was in such dire need of a break, even adults went to bed last night eagerly awaiting a thick blanket of snow the next morning to shut down the city.

It turned out that the snowstorm wasn’t half as bad as the weatherman predicted. Big surprise there. Despite the storm hitting us with only 10cm of snow, several schools across the GTA were shut down anyways, save for Ryerson University and U of T’s St George Campus (much to the dismay of disgruntled students forced to attend class). Many people also still had to go to work, which I’m sure was disappointing.

For days leading up to the storm, hysteria was in the air as Toronto panicked at the prospect of the first ‘major’ snowfall in years. Then, when not enough snow fell, we took to twitter, facebook, and blogs to voice our discontent. All we wanted was a frikin’ snow day! Don’t we deserve it? This city never has any fun. Throw us a frikin’ bone, here.

But isn’t that just like us? This city is full of workaholics that get swept up in the monotony of everyday work. Life just passes them by and they grow embittered towards themselves and society. We’d sooner wave our fists in the air and vent at a snowstorm than yell at another person. So yell at them clouds, Torontonians! Voice your discontent! You deserved that snow day and you were robbed. You deserved to spend the day making snow angels and drinking hot chocolate! You need a day off. And by gum, one day you’ll get it.

A few months ago, as I was perusing the dairy section in my local grocer’s fine establishment, I came across a sale sign for what I thought was chocolate milk. Given my fondness for the beverage, I was obviously elated at the prospect of filling my stomach with this glorious substance for cheaper than I normally would. I’m also half Indian, so the thought of capitalizing on a good deal is intricately woven into the fabric of my very being.

After prancing around in circles while squealing with excitement for a minute or so, I composed myself and reached for the carton. As I took the carton in hand, I noticed something about the label. Why, this wasn’t chocolate milk at all! Instead, it had been relabeled vaguely as “Chocolate Dairy Beverage.”

Now, I don’t know about the rest of the general population, but I’ve never sat on the couch at home and thought to myself “Oh boy, I could really go for a nice tall glass of beverage.” There’s something wrong with that.

Not only have they diluted my milk into some sort of mysterious ‘beverage’, but they’ve tried to fool me into thinking it’s the same thing. The packaging is almost identical. I wonder how many people have been drinking chocolate dairy beverage for months, completely unaware. Actually, probably the same amount of people that don’t read packages when they buy them. In fact, it’s probably only men aged 18-34 that have been drinking beverage instead of milk without knowing. And that’s probably the exact demographic that wouldn’t care if they found out… Hm, well I digress. Where was I?

Oh yes. Dairy beverage. What the heck?! I looked briefly into the differences between milk and dairy beverage. Dairy beverage is made up of reconstituted milk ingredients instead of pure milk, which is why they aren’t allowed to call it ‘chocolate milk’. The reason they do this is to save money. Reconstituted milk ingredients don’t necessarily need to be refrigerated, which means it costs substantially less to ship and store everything. In the end, it’s just money saving techniques.

I’ll admit that chocolate milk and chocolate dairy beverage taste nearly identical. I think my frustration comes from the fact that I’m being sold a lesser product that’s made to look like the real deal. I’m being sold imitation milk. This imitation milk has less protein, less vitamin A and D, and less calcium then the real stuff. It also has 13 ingredients in comparison to chocolate milk’s 8. Among the new additions to the list of ingredients are: modified milk ingredients (what?!), reconstituted skim milk powder (sounds kind of gross), dipotassium phosphate (this one I can barely pronounce), guar gum, and cellulose gum.

So next time you think chocolate milk is on sale, take a closer look. It might be chocolate dairy beverage. And it’s not really on sale, it’s just cheaper because it’s a stupid imitation. This kind of reminds me of malk, but at least malk now has Vitamin R!

But… does any of this stuff actually matter?

I’ve struggled with a variety of problems throughout my time at Ryerson. One struggle in particular has manifested itself in a variety of ways, which led me to believe I had multiple issues to deal with. In actual fact, it all boiled down to one issue: Identity.

At first mention, it’s not something I would immediately confess to struggling with. I feel like I know who I am and I’m comfortable with that person. But that’s not reflected in the things I find myself worrying about day to day. A good example of this is the crisis I experienced about mid-way through my degree when I considered the possibility that I chose the wrong major. I wasn’t excelling in my studies as I expected I would. I looked around and saw all these other journalism students who were just so passionate about their assignments and their classes. My friends were getting published in all the campus newspapers, getting internships at local television stations, and getting journalism related jobs throughout the summer. Meanwhile, I hadn’t published a single article in any newspaper, and I had never considered getting a job in journalism throughout the summer. I worked at a day camp. I felt like a failure in comparison to everyone else around me. I was depressed at the thought of spending $28,000 on a degree that would get my foot in the door of a career I had no intention of pursuing. This depressed me to the point where somedays I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed in the morning. Staying in bed would then depress me further. I felt like a bum.

It took a lot of prayer, self-reflection, and time reading the bible before I underwent a paradigm shift in the way I thought about my life and my purpose at Ryerson. I had been defining who I was based on the program I was enrolled in and how well I was doing in it. I saw myself as a student who just happened to be a Christian. Instead, I should have looked at myself as a follower of Christ who didn’t just happen to be a student, but who was placed at Ryerson by God for reasons infinitely bigger than the expensive piece of paper I would later receive, or even the career path that I set. I was placed there for reasons bigger than I could fathom.

Even as a member of Campus for Christ, I often fell into the trap of finding my identity and worth in the roles I played as part of the group and how well I performed in those roles. Even in the well-intentioned activities I took part in, I found myself determining my value based on how good of a job I did. I found myself trying to identify more with Christians than with Christ.

I keep forgetting that who I am is not defined by my grades. I’m not defined by my program. I’m not defined by the clothes I wear or the things I own. I’m not defined by my strengths, or my weaknesses.

My identity rests in Christ who died for me. How then can I continue to live for myself when Christ has died to bring me life? Seems kind of selfish doesn’t it?

I no longer live for personal gain. I can’t, it’s futile. Money means nothing. I can’t take that with me when I die. A successful career will also mean nothing when I pass. Anything earthly thing I could possibly strive for will not matter 200 years after I’m dead. So why strive for the temporal when I’ve been granted the eternal? Why live for something so small when I can live for the God of the Universe? It seems so simple when I think of it like that.

Who am I? I am a new creation. I’m an ambassador for Christ. I am reconciled to God. I am loved. In the end, that’s all that matters.

“For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

2 Corinthians 5:14-21