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April 28, 2006
Brothers' Blogs
Well, the blogosphere has officially captured three out of four of us flatmates, and hopefully the blogstravaganza to be known as Sweet Chicken will soon make its appearance and make it four for four.
Today, though, I am featuring the blogs of Lloyd and Jesse as they have recently written some good pieces, well worth sharing.
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Following Breadcrumbs: Community, Grace, Feasting, & Whisky
Lloyd has written a moving, highly personal piece about suffering and hope.
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Bacon's Great...
And Jesse has come out of the blocks stong, with an evocative and thoughtful reflection on suffering around the world in places that are close to his heart.
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Finally, perk up your eyes and keep your ears peeled for the forthcoming house blog from the residents of 715 A. Our agents are still in negotiations over its name.
Posted by jackdas at 11:13 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 26, 2006
depression heart (haikus)
she can feel its mass
getting heavier, denser
as the moments pass
collapsing matter
sucking even light itself
into its dark maw
Posted by jackdas at 4:56 PM | TrackBack
April 25, 2006
Regenesis
The man looked out at the sea and the sky, separated only by a thin line of grey. It was dawn. The grey spread upwards like a wash on a water color. It was followed by a wash of gentle rose, which infused the clouds with red, as if they sucked the color from the sky and concentrated it. The sea remained grey with gentle swells. Behind him, a hint of green began to seep out from the hills, and white dots that were sheep were becoming visible. The man stood on the beach of stones, smoothed to perfection by a billion cold washings, and held his face up to the wind. He wore a sweater made from the wool of the sheep behind him, and held a glazed mug from the village down the road to his face to take off the chill of the wind, as he waited for the sun.
It rose into the sky in thin concentric paintings of gleaming yellow spreading upward from the sea, spilling light onto the waves. He watched the last curve of its orb rise above the horizon through tears, which refracted light into a thousand glimmers in his eyes. He stripped off his clothes, and ran into the sea.
Posted by jackdas at 4:28 PM | TrackBack
April 24, 2006
All in
He had never been a gambling man, really. Yes, there had been the odd bet here and there, a quid or two on the footy matches. But that was safe stuff, wasn’t it. He wondered if that thing inside of you that makes you go all in was broken. He’d only done it once--gone all in, gone for broke, whatever you wanted to call it. He had put his heart down too along with the chips. And it had all ended rather badly, with him broke and broken. He was better now--or mostly so. But that bit that did the choosing, the bit that looked at the odds, then plunked down bets, seemed forever stuck on input, checking faces, counting cards, and broken beyond repair.
Posted by jackdas at 4:50 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
April 23, 2006
In Order of Appearance...Hello Quads, Hello Lungs, Hello Gluteus Maximus, Hello Hammies, Hello Headwind, Hello Coughing, Hello Satisfaction
First day back on the bike.
Posted by jackdas at 12:07 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
April 21, 2006
The Clarity of a Dumpster-Another Article in Catapult Makes a Turkey
For those of you keeping score at home, this is the third article in a row in Catapult, which in bowling terms makes a Turkey (i.e. three strikes in a row). As for whether this one or the last two are actually strikes or gutter balls, I'll let you decide, if you can spare the time. Get it? "Spare the time." Roomie Nathan will be proud.
The Clarity of a Dumpster
Posted by jackdas at 12:09 PM | TrackBack
April 17, 2006
Albert and Adi: Going Yard on Easter
Well, if you are citizen of Cardinal Nation (or just watch ESPN for that matter), you are likely aware that Senor Pujols went deep three times on Easter sunday, with the last time being in the bottom of the 9th inning to end the game. Brilliant.
His only home run that was more momentus? That would be the one in last year's National League Championship Series against Houston, which brought the series back to old Busch Stadium, where unfortunately the Cardinals promptly lost.
Albert and Adi, who is my brother, actually met once, in a Dobbs somewhere in West County. They talked about what is most important to both of them: their faith. Pujols talked about ways in which he and other players deal with temptation on the road. Adi still kicks himself for not going and buying a baseball for him to sign; the receipt he did have Albert sign has long since been lost.
Yesterday, I had the privelege of listening to my brother preach for Easter. I am not the most impartial judge in this case, of course, and I don't know the rightness of bragging on a sermon, but I like to think that Adi went yard too, in a sermon linking Isaiah 53, Gethsemane, and other events of Holy Week. And if you pay attention to the structure of the sermon, he went deep three times also. With three shots beginning in the Old Testament, flying through the New, and landing over the fence, smack down in our lives today.
Make sure you listen to Adi's conclusion after the lovely hymn in the middle, which is part of the sermon. Oh yeah, and get your glove out.
Adi's Easter sermon.
Adi's other sermons.
Posted by jackdas at 11:56 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 13, 2006
For Good Friday and Easter
Here is an old-school poem of mine and a reflection. I think I might have had Sandi Patty's "Was it a Morning Like This" in my mind when I wrote this or Calvin Miller's The Singer. Old school, indeed. The language (including the sexist "men") and meter are archaic. The sentiment still rings true.
He Is
The one who hangs in dark and rain
With wounds cut deep from scorn and hate
Looks up in love through tears of pain
To softly plead "Forgive.."
The grave mocks bold, "His life was vain!"
The Anointed One in death lies still
Cold walls chant deep the dirge refrain
That echoes back "Despair
The Sabbath sun on sorrow sets
And hearts of love bleed still in pain
His promise drowned by Death's damned voice,
"The temple razed, will rise again.."
The garden bathes in dew for dawn
But what of dawn when hope is dead
The author of the morning song
Lies silent, cold in walls of stone.
But be still,
There is a noise,
A crisp clear note that rings in song
The melody now peals out loud
Crescendo of the voice of God
To resurrect and shake the ground.
Who once sang out in timeless void
To fashion naught and bring forth being
Sings strong again creation's song
Restoring Love to human form
The promise made was not vain
The temple razed, is built again.
Rejoice O men the and join the song.
Joy has risen to embrace the morn.
The Holy One who formed the earth
Died for man and rose again
Yesterday, today, forever,
HE IS
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Tis mystery all! The immortal dies:
Who can explore His strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love divine.
Tis mercy all! Let earth adore,
Let angel minds inquire no more
So penned Charles Wesley about the mystery of the atonement. "Tis mystery all! The immortal dies." The immortal dies! Once again we are met with one of the paradoxes at the heart of Christianity. And at the heart of the atonement another paradox lies closely related, the working of the Trinity. We see God working throughout history from the creation of the universe through the incarnation, life, death and resurrection of Jesus to the end of time in terms of Trinity. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews described the mystery in as clear terms as possible writing, "How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered Himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!" The book of Revelation speaks of the throne of God and of the Lamb as being one throne. Paradoxes do not prove that Christianity is false, but only show that there is truth beyond the comprehension of our temporal minds.
Getting back to the atonement, our language must be careful in describing what the mind cannot comprehend, but quite simply what occurs at the cross is God taking on Himself the punishment we deserve. It is the eternal God, stooping low so that we could be lifted to life with him. Really, then, what our focus should be on is the second exclamation in the Wesley stanza above, "Tis mercy all!," for we may never understand all the mysteries but we can surely understand the grace and mercy offered to us in that wondrous, loving act of God.
Posted by jackdas at 8:29 PM | TrackBack
April 7, 2006
Another Article in Catapult and a Poem too!
Another article and, for the first time, also a poem, woo hoo! Thank you, Kirstin (Catapult's editor).
If you have ever wanted to watch someone put a "kick me" sign on their back to see what will happen, well then the article is for you. In reality, writing this article, potentially, could be more like this.
If you have ever felt your faith challenged by the Hindu parable of the blind men and elephant, then the poem is for you.
Confessions of a Fundamentalist Librarian: Negotiating Hereses (Article)
Two Sonnets (Poem)
My Previous Writing in Catapult
The current Catapult issue is titled Heretic. It looks like there are some good articles, though I have not read them yet.
Posted by jackdas at 8:31 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack