July 23, 2008
The New "Dead Deer"
Even though the "official" title of this piece is "Fallen" or "Fall," the unofficial title is certainly "The Dead Deer," because that is what everybody calls it. This is a pretty polarizing piece actually. Either folk really like it, even if they still find the deer disturbing, or they cannot get past the disturbing aspect in order to see the beauty that still is retained in the deer, its glory as a creature, fallen though it be, and the beauty of its autumnal bower.
Well, I like this piece for all those reasons, and actually have been wanting to work on it a bit so as to make it a bit more stylized, and then hang it up in my house. I greatly regret that this was not taken with my latest camera, and, so, it is rather grainy when blown up. This is, indeed, part of the reason for stylizing it, to hide the graininess. And when I print out this piece (I have a gold frame already selected for it) I plan to add the finishing touch of getting some textured gold paint with flecks in it (kind of like zinc oxide for you nose, but gold) and guild the protruding ribs with it.
Weird? Perhaps, but what I want to convey is the the dying glory of the the beast and how it is a "glorious ruin," which, indeed, will be the name for the new piece and the term which Francis Schaeffer used to describe postFall human beings, because, in the final analysis, it is that event which this scene most evokes for me.
Without further rambling, here is "glorious ruin" (make sure to view it large).
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May 16, 2008
A Great Story
Stephanie Kilstein, who is featured in this article, goes to my church. I must add that I do not know Stephanie that well. So, I am glad to get to know her story a bit more through this article and to share it with you. Wow.
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April 22, 2008
Does Christian Rock Suck?
Here are several links that I was made aware of courtesy of Jeffrey Overstreet's blog. On this page, Daniel Radosh, a self-described secular Jew and humanist, has posted a debate that he had at a bar or something like with Mr. McCard who is described as someone who believes in God. The debate is fascinating.
Mr. McCard, in essence, defines both Christianity and rock music fairly rigidly and proceeds to make the case that Christian rock by definition must suck because it is incompatible with the ends of rock and roll. He defines Christianity as being basically ascetic and/or fundamentalistic and rock and roll as basically, pardon the crude quote, "coming from the crotch" and in essence designed to stimulate the passions nested therein. This is a good place to note that this debate has some sexually charged language that may be offensive to some of you. Mr. Radosh rightly argues that these are rather too narrow definitions of each, and that they were, in essence, the same arguments proposed by the fundamentalistic opponents of rock and roll in the 1950s and onward. He also comes up with some helpful categories for types of Christian music. One he labels "Separational," the other "Transformational," and I do not remember the third category but basically it is between the other two and might be considered "cross-over" territory, to borrow a buzz word from a Christian music debate of the 1980's.
I must say, Radosh is very surprising in many ways, in that he has fairly good bead on the pulse of some aspects of evangelical culture, though this perhaps makes his analysis of Christianity necessarily narrow. Though, to be fair, I do not believe that he is claiming to describe more than the Evangelical subculture. Mr. Radosh gets it right that Christianity need not be limited to an ascetic world view, but I believe gets it wrong by viewing this as simply an accomodationist posture to the world. From the Reformed world view everything in this world is a good, though human sin has warped it on some systemic levels and the world groans under this. And sin also conditions human culture, though not all aspects of human culture, as many of these glorify God and his good world.
Also, Mr. Radosh several times notes that he is describing Christianity phenonmenologically, i.e. that Christianity is what Christians practice, that Christian music is what Christian people listen to and like. I think that such a view, particularly regarding Christianity itself, is inadequate. I think this, well, because I am believer, and that belief is nested in the trust that Christianity is a revealed religion and we cannot simply make of it what we will. Nonetheless, I think Mr. Radosh is very perceptive. However, I wonder why he is so interested in evangelical Christianity, whether it is simply research interest, whether he wants to see how it does and does not accord with humanism, or whether he is simply "playing" in the postmodern sense? I do not know how he would answer these questions, but I suspect it might be a little of each.
I was really getting to like him and then he called John Piper an asshole. Once again pardon my French, as my mother would say.. I have not read any Piper and know I have some theological differences with him, but I wonder whether this assessment was because Piper did or said something personally to him or whether it is because Piper draws lines about truth and salvation which are not acceptable to him as a secular humanist or whether Piper simply did not cooperate in his program of studying Christianity. I don't know. Nonetheless, even though I think Mr. Radosh is very intelligent and intriguing, this remark was off-putting.
Finally, these questions have long and continue to be an interest of mine. Below are two links to previous articles in Catapult on the issue, though the first is more specifically about the topic. In brief though, I would like to divide Christians making music into two simple categories, and at a fundamental level one would not even have to be a Christian to contribute to each, though it would be sadly hypocritical if one contributed to the first category and did not believe.
The first category I would call Sacred music, and in this category I would place music, of whatever genre, whose express purpose and lyrical content is intended to bring people to participate in the worship of God. We might have debates about whether a particular song achieves these ends and what freedom we have to express praise with certain genres, but I think that is a pretty good working definition.
That is not to say that one cannot be moved in a spiritual sense by music that does not lyrically fit this category or even which is simply instrumental. One may indeed be moved worship God through listening to the lush, ethereal sound scapes of Sigur Ros. Or one may turn to God in either repentance or plea upon hearing brokenness expressed in a folk tune (though this song expressly mentions God).
Yet, I would still put music made by Chrisians that is not expressly sacred in the same category as Sigur Ros and Norah Jones, i.e. people making music either reflecting their world views or which they appreciate artistically. Thus, such a category would really not be a Christian music category at all. Instead, Christians would simply be excellent participants (or not, if they just suck musically) in whatever genre in which they are skilled. This would parallel Mr. Radosh's transformational category, but I would prefer not to call it a category at all. Though, fair enough, such Christians are being transformational, just as a Christian who is a painter, a plumbler, a neuro-surgeoun, a writer as a Christian can be excellent and, consequently, transformational, offering the world to God and God to the world.
I would encourage you to listen to the debate linked above and listen two the songs Mr. Radosh has chosen as the 10 best Christian rock songs. Here is description of why he chose these songs, with comments by readers following.
Here are my articles from catapult:
*Returning to the Why of Music
*Concerning the Sighting of Aliens in the Cornfields Near Bushnell, Illinois
Or The Way in Which Neil E. Das has an Ecclesiastical Epiphany in the Great Cornerstone Labyrinth
Finally, finally here is the classic from the father and iconoclast of Christian Rock himself, Mr. Larry Norman. In this version, Larry gets a little crazy in the middle, but it is worth listening to to hear his change of the chorus at the end. Here is a more polished version from Cornerstone 2001.
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April 7, 2008
Wow
I consistently have the feeling of coming to the great conversations late, whether they be literary or political (though I got a pretty good jump on the theological). Listen to this. Wow. It is so worth the 22 minutes.
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April 4, 2008
Remember Martin...
...and the struggle for which he laid down his life.
*an amazing speech on the night before he died.
*an amazing tribute video. Song by Paul, David, Adam, and Larry.
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March 21, 2008
Unless a Grain of Wheat...
Jesus replied, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
"Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!"
Then a voice came from heaven, "I have glorified it, and will glorify it again." The crowd that was there and heard it said it had thundered; others said an angel had spoken to him.
Jesus said, "This voice was for your benefit, not mine. Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself." He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die.
The crowd spoke up, "We have heard from the Law that the Christ will remain forever, so how can you say, 'The Son of Man must be lifted up'? Who is this 'Son of Man'?"
Then Jesus told them, "You are going to have the light just a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, before darkness overtakes you. The man who walks in the dark does not know where he is going. Put your trust in the light while you have it, so that you may become sons of light." When he had finished speaking, Jesus left and hid himself from them.
_______________
It may be a little early to reflect on the beauty of resurrection, but in the darkness of Good Friday, remember the light is coming. As we reflect on the death of Christ tonight, may we realize that in that death we too die, our sins are put to death, our old human nature is put to death. And, just as surely, we will be raised to life with Christ, because of Resurrection Sunday. If we are Christians, we are new creations, now.
Even so, while we are on this earth looking forward to that final ressurection, in one sense a Christian's life is to be characterized by Good Friday every day of our lives. We are, after all, called to carry our cross daily, are we not, to die to ourselves. I forget that so, so, so easily. May we not on this Good Friday night.
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February 14, 2008
On St. Valentine's Day, A Heart for You, Aflame in Love for the World
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February 3, 2008
Memorial Altar Piece
I love the woodwork on the wall of the altar, particularly at the bottom where the carving begins out of the smooth wood.
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November 22, 2007
He has compassion on all he has made
1 I will exalt you, my God the King;
I will praise your name for ever and ever.
2 Every day I will praise you
and extol your name for ever and ever.
3 Great is the LORD and most worthy of praise;
his greatness no one can fathom.
4 One generation will commend your works to another;
they will tell of your mighty acts.
5 They will speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty,
and I will meditate on your wonderful works.
6 They will tell of the power of your awesome works,
and I will proclaim your great deeds.
7 They will celebrate your abundant goodness
and joyfully sing of your righteousness.
8 The LORD is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and rich in love.
9 The LORD is good to all;
he has compassion on all he has made.
10 All you have made will praise you, O LORD;
your saints will extol you.
11 They will tell of the glory of your kingdom
and speak of your might,
12 so that all men may know of your mighty acts
and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.
13 Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
and your dominion endures through all generations.
The LORD is faithful to all his promises
and loving toward all he has made.
14 The LORD upholds all those who fall
and lifts up all who are bowed down.
15 The eyes of all look to you,
and you give them their food at the proper time.
16 You open your hand
and satisfy the desires of every living thing.
17 The LORD is righteous in all his ways
and loving toward all he has made.
18 The LORD is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
19 He fulfills the desires of those who fear him;
he hears their cry and saves them.
20 The LORD watches over all who love him,
but all the wicked he will destroy.
21 My mouth will speak in praise of the LORD.
Let every creature praise his holy name
for ever and ever.
____________
145, of David
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October 17, 2007
Give Thanks for the Rain...
...for its inconvenience, that reminds us of us our creaturliness, as we scurry for cover
...for its abundance, that tops off our water tables, which are the envy of a thristy world
...for its cleansing, that washes body and soul, if we will but hold our breath and plunge into its coldness
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October 11, 2007
Only 74 Shopping Days Till Christmas
It's never too early to get that shopping started, particularly if the presents are going overseas. Might I commend to you this site (here's the print version of the same) and this one. Happy shopping.
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Living in the Tension
Even though my day has been incredibly busy and I have miles to go before I sleep. How does one conjugate "sleep" in Greek? My day was extraordinary enough, though, that I feel compelled to mark it with a blog post. It was full of many types of richnesses and contrarieties that created a tension which made me stand up and pay attention.
The first part of my day consisted of lectures on preaching which I was required to attend for my seminary studies. The phrase “required to attend,” though, belies the fact that I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the first sermon in worship this morning and the three additional lecture-sermons throughout the day. Immediately afterwards, I called my brother and told him how much that Stafford Carson reminded me of some of the visiting preachers that would come to preach to the missionary community in the mountains of Pakistan during the summers. It was like water to my soul. I am not entirely sure I can articulate it properly, but the combination of a thoroughly grace-centered message with a consideration of how preaching is to transform lives, yes, even to convict people of specific sin, to have the Holy Spirit do surgery in their hearts was invigorating, and to me that, in and of itself, was instructive. Why do I feel such a lack of such preaching and emphases in my sense of the American church?
The rest of the day was a rich meal of learning from I Thessalonians 2 and 3 and Luke 24 how to preach messages that transform through the power of the Holy Spirit, preached by preacher/pastors who have let the Word and Spirit transform their hearts and lives, who work hard at preparing sermons and caring for their congregations and families. It was an amazing combination of wisdom about preaching and pastoring, which, well, obviously left a mark on me.
The most amazing moment of the day for me, though, was when a student asked Rev. Carson what he as an Irish Christian saw as some of the major weaknesses of the American church. After a very gracious caveat about seeing the weaknesses of another culture more readily than one’s owns, Dr. Carson said that in America that evangelical Christians have still not solved the race problem. After a long pause of absolute silence from the audience, he began to say “Well, perhaps I’ve gotten it wrong” and then corrected himself, applying his own injunction given to us earlier to not let a congregation muzzle one from preaching a difficult sermon the congregation does not want to hear. The moment was absolutely stunning. The silence of the audience said it all.
It made me appreciate that while I am not always happy with the state of affairs at my own church, New City Fellowship, in one way or another, and while I may grumble that I don’t get my own wishes down the line in the order of worship, that the enterprise is worth undertaking. This is a conversation for elsewhere, but the New City model of doing church and the concept of racial reconciliation, which once seemed to be held up as an ideal in the PCA, now seems out favor and the new emphasis is largely toward training black pastors to lead black congregations. I cannot resolve all the ins and outs of this here, I am neither qualified nor knowledgeable enough to do so, nor am I blindly defending the New City model, but I think that in some way perhaps some ground has been lost with this shift.
In the first sermon of the day, which was on Psalm 110, Dr. Carson said that Christ is, indeed, currently reigning over the world as King, even though it may not seem so at times, and that this should inform how we approach every sphere of life, including preaching. He referenced Habakkuk 2:14 that “For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea.” And that very nicely introduces the second part of my day.
For house church tonight, it was planned that we were to visit some newly arrived refugee families that were being ministered to by the ministry of Worku Geremew, a dear friend of mine from house church. And I have to tell you that I did not really want to go, not tonight nor when we were discussing the plans earlier. But go I did, even with the need to study the aforementioned Greek pressing upon me. And I was blessed, as I knew in my heart of hearts that I would be, but also challenged to consider the tension presented in this post.
How could I put the two parts of my day together in a meaningful whole? How could I relish a rich theological feast in the daytime that seemed to have little bearing on ministering to the very basic physical and emotional and spiritual needs of two newly arrived families from Africa? One family had not even had the most basic need of salvation met in their own lives as yet.
I do not mean to set these two in false antithesis, because they are not, nor do I mean grade the importance of each emphasis, I cannot, because each is as important as the other. And the ministry to an African family on a fundamental level is no different than ministry to any other family. I suppose I am simply highlighting a fault line that runs down the middle of me, and might I, perhaps not so humbly, suggest should run right down the middle of more of us. Quite honestly I am far more inclined to try to resolve the tension by simply sinking into the emphases from the first part of the day, to cater to the spiritual health of people in the West with a high level of specificity and care and theological reflection, and for what it is worth that is the area to which I feel called, and yet, and yet I am coming to believe that I cannot, must not, ignore the Church of Jesus Christ as it is spread across the world and consider its concerns. I cannot ignore issues of injustice and wealth, if only for the simple reason that my Christian brothers and sisters across the world possess great needs which the American church, and I as a part of it, are uniquely qualified to meet, not because we are better than them or any thing like, but simply because we have an abundance of resources, physical and spiritual, and to whom much is given, much is required. We cannot simply ignore the needs of our brothers and sisters in Christ if we are to follow the whole counsel of Scripture.
Perhaps this is not so great a tension for others. It is for me. And in response, I must not, and I believe the church must not, seek an easily resolution. We should neither pit good theological instruction against practical acts of service and seeking justice, nor assume that any part of Chirst's church can do with out embracing both emphases. I do not believe that relief of tension that I experienced today can be had if we are to live biblically, in the now and the not yet of the Kingdom of Christ, which will one day cover the earth as the waters cover the sea.
And, now, back to the Greek.
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October 1, 2007
Jesus Shall Reign...
...where'er the sun, does his successive journeys run. I love this hymn, even if verse three and a few others (FYI, the link has sound) do suffer a bit from the taint of colonialism.
I think the version we sang today in church changed the second line of verse 8 to "Grateful honors to their king," but I like the original much better:
Let every creature rise and bring
Peculiar honors to our King;
Angels descend with songs again,
And earth repeat the loud amen!
"Peculiar honors." It makes me think of Narnian beasts bringing praise to Aslan or Gerard Manley Hopkins' "Pied Beauty."
Other favorite verses from "Jesus Shall Reign":
People and realms of every tongue
Dwell on His love with sweetest song;
And infant voices shall proclaim
Their early blessings on His Name.
"Early blessings on His Name." Lovely.
Where He displays His healing power,
Death and the curse are known no more:
In Him the tribes of Adam boast
More blessings than their father lost.
"Death and the curse are known no more." I cannot wait to sing "Joy to the World" (sound), which is also coincidently, or perhaps not so coincidently, by Isaac Watts. There are not many things I hate, but that curse is surely one of them. Why can't we sing Christmas songs at times other than Christmas, at least one here and there? Some of them have got killer theology.
As rain on meadows newly mown,
So shall He send his influence down:
His grace on fainting souls distills,
Like heav’nly dew on thirsty hills.
Now that is truly a dew worth doing.
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July 17, 2007
We Are Not Pregnant...
...and other reflections on gender from a fairly conservative source.
Several months ago after house church, several of us discussed the pros and cons of the phrase "We are pregnant." I am not a fan. Here is an article from the editior of Christianity Today reflecting on gender roles. I have read it and several other articles as I work at my new library job. And, I must confess, it felt a bit like coming home. I am not saying that I will agree with everything that will be articulated in Christianity Today, but I think what was refreshing to me today was once again reading theological thought, clearly expressed without the need for constant qualification and apology.
I think that is the direction in which I want to go, not back to simple closed-mindedness, insensitivity, judgemenatlism, and rigidity mind you, but to take along with me lessons I have learned, and to articulate my understanding of truth confidently. Why should that be such a radical thing to even articulate?
In many ways I think that this recalibration that has occurred in myself over the course of a number of years is merely a microcosm of changes that have been occurring in evangelical Christianity at large. For example, I believe the engagement with culture and current social and global concerns currently engaged in by a magazine such as Christianity Todaywould seldom have appeared on its pages in the 1980's. That is my sense of it at least.
Here is another article on the spreading canker of the prosperity gospel in the church in Africa, and it is a canker. Yet, the picture is never as simple as I would like to make it, as God is working even amidst the mess of such teaching, bringing people to himself, and yes even teaching some folk to better their lives and to share with others. Huh, how about that. And what is another of the draws of this movement for Africans? It scratches a distinctly African itch to be in touch with the supernatural. And, with care and discernment but without our overbearing desire to be in control, I bet we could learn a little something in that department.
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July 13, 2007
Another One Bites the Dust-A Batchelor Party
We played cute little games and made Worku a toilet paper tuxedo. We cried a little; giggled a lot.
Not! But we did have a nice manly time at Tucker's, the place for steaks. And, mmm, they were good. Plus, a little drink. Some good stories. Only a little advice. A prayer from elder Eddie. Brilliant. Alas, there were no cigars.
Yes, and amidst it all we were able to celebrate that institution, which, while suffering much derision in our culture and being as hard as the dickens and so saddeningly so often abandoned, is one God's bests gifts. Or so I hear ;)
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July 6, 2007
Church
in...but not of
but our citizenship is in heaven. and we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ
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June 18, 2007
The Discussion Continues...
I decided to go ahead and begin the discussion of Barbara Zielinsk's article featured in the latest issue of Catapult, and there have been several posts in the discussion thread. If you want to follow along or jump in yourself, you can do so here. A link to the pertinent article is posted at the top of my first post.
If you're here from there, welcome.
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June 1, 2007
A Pensive Meander Over the Day
Driving home tonight in a summer thunderstorm, I stopped by the river to take some pictures. I rolled down the window, stayed in my car and shot away. There was no decent shot to speak of really. The last one before the battery died was quite remarkable, but nothing like the vision I was treated to moments later, when my camera was dead and I was forced merely to appreciate the scene for its own sake. That is a good thing for us photography loving sorts to have happen to us from time to time, to be reminded of why we take pictures in the first place, or at least why I largely do, to appreciate the amazing beauty and vitality of life itself.
The massive thunderheads were rumbling away eastward, and on their tail end you could see their white tops, contrasted against the greyness below and a deep, bright blue above. The edges of the white cloud were as sharp and crisp as if they had been cut from paper and pasted against the blue, and then varying shades of grey overlaid the white, tracing out the contours of the cloud. The picture above pales in comparison, though its a good start.
I thought to myself that I totally understand why the Greeks would have placed their gods on cloudy Olympus. Our own popular conceptions of heaven probably owe as much to the Greek vision as any biblical one, but what we have made it now is insipid fluffiness. But the clouds I saw today were nothing like that, they were glorious in the true sense, and I could totally get why someone might want to link them to deity and heaven.
I suppose I have been thinking of heaven a lot today. Earlier in the day, my brother led a service from my Uncle Vigil’s funeral. I have a friend who has laughed each time I have told her a funeral has been “good.” Admittedly, the first time I said it I may have been just mindlessly saying that it was good, because that is what I tend to mindlessly say when someone ask me how something was. No, but I can wholeheartedly say that this funeral was good. It was good to be reminded about the life of my uncle, which though not remarkable by worldly standards, was remarkable because he was a servant of Christ, serving others tirelessly, not seeking glory for himself—roto-tilling gardens, mowing lawns, hauling bread in the back of his pick-up for the food pantry. It was good for me to be reminded that even though God's grace is absolutely free, that God calls us to be sacrificial and to be servants, to be Christ to others. It was good to be reminded of these things by reflecting on the life of a beloved uncle, in a service led by a beloved brother.
It was good to be reminded over these past few days of just how much Uncle Virg meant to me in my life. We lived with him and Aunt Verdna when we came home on furloughs. Aunt Verdna raised my brother Adrian while my mom worked as a nurse. And when Aunt Verdna and Uncle Virg separated for 5+ years in their marriage, Uncle Virg came to live with Grandma and us, home on another furlough. He wasn’t all sunshine. When we boys would be watching our hundred pound black and white television, for which we used pliers to change the channels, and Grandma or Mom would call us to have supper at 4:30pm (4:30pm for heaven’s sake! which is interminably early for half Pakistani boys used to eating at 8:00) we would mumble and pay no mind, but when Uncle Virg would holler, “Now, you boys get on in here!” well, there was no hesitation. We had no doubt that he would not have considered the statute of limitation expired on the whupping privileges he had when we were younger and which he had occasionally exercised. We were at that table like a shot.
I have a father, a wonderful father, who worked hard and loved us sensitively and took us on fishing trips and outings when we grew up in Pakistan, but he himself would have no problem in me acknowledging the fatherly role that Uncle Virg also had in our lives. In fact, his gruffness and occasional crudeness were an excellent complement to my father’s raising of us. Uncle Virg taught me how to fish for Blue Gill—how to look for where they were nesting and cast the line just right. He taught me how to skin a catfish, how to scale a Blue Gill and bake a cookie sheet full of them with butter and oregano and lemon juice. There is nothing quite like freshly baked Blue Gill, even if you have to eat a couple three to get anywhere near full. There is nothing like the salty, lemony, melted butter in the corners of the cookie sheet.
Uncle Virg also found me a rabbit that was sitting still in the brush, and I got my first, and thus far only, kill, and I was finally able to understand a little of what the Native Americans mean by thanking an animal for its life. But the killing of the rabbits, the eating of them, whilst chewing carefully to watch out for lead shot, was not even the most memorable thing. That was walking along a railroad track or hedge row in the snow with Uncle Virg giving directions on safety and hunting smarts, perhaps stopping to throw sticks across a frozen pond when the rabbits were scare and seeing if we could bag a few of those logs skidding across the ice. It was watching the autumn sun set in the drab, scrubby farmland of Illinois whilst being with my brothers and Uncle.
Uncle Virg also came and helped Dad build our house and shape our property in Edwardsville, chainsawing trees and burning them, and then stopping for long lunches of simple food and laughter, where I was the chef and server while Uncle Virg and Dad rested their aging bones. And during this time, Uncle Virg taught me one of his most important lessons, to pee in the woods or your own yard or off your deck, and to do it with impunity. Alas, it is now somewhat harder to put this lesson into practice at Dad’s place, since several houses have sprung up nearby, but, well, when the angles make it cool or the light is right….
Before I bring this long ramble into a close, I must tell you one of the most meaningful things that I saw happen in Uncle Virg’s life. During their separation, which occurred for reasons that I do not know nor would make public, my Aunt Verdna and Uncle Virg still kept house and raised their children together. No, he did not live there, and their relations did not seem warm to the eye of a child, but he would still come and put long hours to plant the garden or can the vegetables or do repairs on the house and he stayed involved in his children’s lives. What happened next is all the more remarkable because more often than not just the opposite happens, and, to be absolutely honest here, I get pretty heartsick about it all and even doubt sometimes why God thought up whole idea of marriage at all as it seems to fail so often. But shortly after my mother died, though I am not claiming that was the cause of it, in 1987, Uncle Virgil and Aunt Verdna talked and he moved back home. I cannot tell you how much it means to me that they reconciled and spent the last 20 years of their life together.
And last week, Aunt Verdna, who raised him as a boy, asked my brother to preach my Uncle’s funeral, and a story came full circle.
P.S. I know we have our potlucks in the city, hey I organize half of the ones I attend, but, my friends, having been to a Southern Illinois funeral potluck today, well, by contrast we’re just playing at it.
P.P.S. Finally, finally, after spending an emotional morning and then a lovely afternoon with Adi and family and Dad and Virgil (yes, he's Uncle Virgil's namesake) and his family who came all the way from Texas and who must return home tomorrow morning :( I must confess I feel a bit like these flowers that were taken from the funeral and are drying in my car, a little dim and droopy. Yet, even so, today has been a remarkable reminder that God has been and is so very good to me. Blessed be His name.
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April 22, 2007
My Favorite Times of the Week
You know I think I have posted about this topic before, but it is certainly worth repeating. Very often, my favorite times of the week are just after both church and house church. The reasons for my joy are similar but not identical, as is the tenor of the joys.
My church is not perfect. In my opinion, it is not even currently fully filling one of its founding mandates of being a truly multi-cultural church. I think we need to have a black pastor and more black leadership for that to really be true. And yet, sitting in church today and looking at the diversity that exists was truly amazing. Sometimes I get rather blase about it and take it all for granted, but it is a truly remarkable thing, as is the fact that we get consistent hardcore messages encouraging us to sacrifical living (which are nested in grace I should add) and the place continues to be full and grow. Go figure. And they are tough messages. I might have an occassional theological fine point to argue sometimes or grumble with the implications of the sermon for my life, which happens more often, but, wow, there are not many other places you are going to get that combination.
I could go on about what I would like in church (a little more of the creeds and confession and...ok I can't think of a third "c") but that is not something I dwell upon, not when there are other things to be about. The combination of all the things my church offers may not be for everyone, but its voice and the emphases it focuses upon are worthy of wider hearing and consideration.
Ah, I digress. My favorite part of chuch is at the end. And not just because, "Whew, we finally get to go home," though that thought does occur from time to time. No, I dig it because after praise and prayers and a challenging sermon, we generally get either a more traditional hymn (today it was "O Sacred Head Now Wounded") or a more reflective contemporary song or spiritual, which matches my worship temperament better, though I can dig the rocking songs sometime too.
And then we get to have communion. If it were a meal, would this be the main course or would it be the sermon? The Protestants will tell you the latter; the Catholics the former. I am very close to going with the Catholics on this one. Both are sacraments, though, even in the Protestant formulation, and so impart grace. And the thought of having grace imparted to me in a tangible way, that really does something to me body, mind, and spirit excites me.
We have communion in a massive circle, so it can potentially be a little distracting, but the beauty is that no one really cares how you do it. And, though I rather like the concept of everyone doing things the same way at the same time and could be perfectly happy in a more liturgical church, I do take the advantage of the freedom to create my own ritual. Now that sounds terribly postmodern in one way, but I do not think my little rituals are counter to scripture or much tradition, so I think I am OK. They are not even that demonstrative. There are times when I really want to cross myself either during or after communion, but I haven't gotten up the courage to do that as yet.
And then after grace has been imparted to us in a touchable, chewable form, we get the benediction. I think it means the "good word." We don't always get a formal one, but I dig it when we do. Did you know that only an ordained elder can actually give a benedition in the PCA? I know to some that might sound horribly Catholic and not very priesthood of believerish, but, yes, I like it very much, to be blest by those who have been placed in spiritual authority over me. Bring it on. We can and should bless one an another as friends and family members, perhaps by placing our hands on someone's head even, but that does not perclude there being a different type of blessing from an elder. Check out the end of the book of James for a model of both of these things in the discussion concerning the person who is sick.
One part of my rituals, such as they are, that I will tell you about is that I like to cup my hands at this point, as if receiving a gift. Cheesy? Perhaps, but it encodes what is happing for me. I would even like being given the communion bread and wine if possible. If I ever have the opportunity to suggest things to a congregation in the future I might suggest some of these at the least, perhaps, as occassional practices. I may even suggest opening our mouths during parts of the service to symbolize tasting the Lord or receiving his word. Yeah, I bet the kids will love that.
No, I also like this time because I am anticipating fellowship with my friends and perhaps with new friends, because very often we will be eating together and enjoying one another's company and silly jokes in a very short while.
As for the second time of the week after house church, well the order of things is reversed a bit, as is their ecclesiastical weight. There are no official sacraments, for example. First, we eat in a weekly potluck that may feature any number of dishes from vegan to totally carnivorous. And the fellowship is even better than the food. Then we sing and study and pray. And I like the studying because, yes, I often lead it, and that is also one of my favorite things to do. And the prayer is great, because we break into gendered groups and can really deeply pray for one another (except when my Elder Eddie and Andy and I and are figuring out which old school choruses we all know and singing snippets of them rather loudly). At the end of house church, sometimes I am as giddy as a schoolgirl. What I really want to know though is, are schoolgirls really giddy, and, if so, why? OK, so perhaps I am not as giddy as all that, but I can get as silly as I do with my family, well, because I suppose that is who I am with.
OK, I did not intend to go that long....back to the Aeneid, which, I might add, is really good, classic even. Maybe there is something to this "classics" business.
Finally, blessings for the week upon you all.
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April 17, 2007
Unman
He began walking in a leisurely fashion beside the sea. His bare feet sank a little into a carpet of saffron-coloured vegetation, which covered them with an aromatic dust. As he was looking down at this he suddenly noticed something else. At first he thoutht it was a creature of more fantastic shape than he had yet seen on Perelandra. Its shape was not only fantastic but hideous. Then he dropped on one knee to examine it. Finally he touched it, with reluctance. A moment later he drew back his hands like a man who had touched a snake.
It was damaged animal. It was, or had been one of the brightly coloured frogs. But some accident had happened to it. The whole back had been ripped open in a sort of V-shaped gash, the point of the V being a little behind the head. Something had torn a widening wound backward--as we do in opening an envelope--along the trunk and pulled it out so far behind the animal that the hoppers or hind legs had been almost torn off with it. They were so damaged that the frog could not leap. On earth it would have been merely a nasty sight, but up to this moment Ransom had as yet seen nothing dead or spoiled in Perelandra, and it was like a blow in the face. It was like the first spasm of well-remembered pain warning a man who had thought he was cured that his family have deceived him and he is dying after all. It was like the first lied from the mouth of a friend on whose truth one was willing to stake a thousand pounds. It was irrevocable. The milk-warm wind blowing over the golden sea, the blues and silvers and greens of the floating garden, the sky itself--all these had become, in one instant, merely the illuminated margin of a book whose text was the struggling little horror at his feet....
At last he got up an resumed his walk. Next moment he started and looked at the ground again. He quickened his pace, and then once more stopped and looked. He stood stock-still and covered his face. He called aloud upon heaven to break the nightmare or to let him understand what was happening. A trail of mutilated frogs lay along the edge of the island. Picking his footsteps with care, he followed it. He counted ten, fifteen, twenty: and the twenty-first brought him to a place where the wood came down to the water's edge. He went into the wood and came out on the other side. There he stopped dead and stared. Weston, still clothed but without his pith helmet, was standing about thirty feet away: and as Ransom watched he was tearing a frog--quietly and almost surgically...Then he finished the operation, threw the bleeding ruin away, and looked up. Their eyes met.
If Ransom said nothing, it was because he could not speak. He saw a man who was certainly not ill, to judge from his easy stance and the powerful use he had just been making of his fingers. He saw a man who was certainly Weston, to judge from his height and build and colouring and features. In that sense he was quite recognisable. But the terror was that he was also unrecognisable. He did not look like a sick man: but he looked very like a dead one....And now, forcing its way up into consciousness, thrusting aside every mental habit and every longing not to believe, came the conviction that this, in fact, was not a man: that Weston's body was kept, walking and undecaying, in Perelandra by some wholly different kind of life, and that Weston himself was gone.
It looked at Ransom in silence and at last began to smile. We have often spoken--of a devilish smile. Now he realised that he had never taken the words seriously. The smile was not bitter, nor raging, nor, in an ordinary sense, sinister; it was not even mocking. It seemed to summon Ransom, with horrible naivete of welcome, into a the world of its own pleasures, as if all men were at one in those pleasures, as if they were the most natural thing in the world and no dispute could ever have occurred about them. It was not furtive, nor ashamed, it had nothing of the conspirator in it. It did not defy goodness, it ignored it to the point of annihilation. Ransom perceived that he had never before seen anything but half-hearted and uneasy attempts at evil. This creature was whole-hearted. The extremity of its evil had passed beyond all struggle into some state which bore a horrible similarity to innocence.
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April 8, 2007
Indeed
Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Those wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright.
Crown Him the Lord of life, who triumphed over the grave,
And rose victorious in the strife for those He came to save.
His glories now we sing, Who died, and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring, and lives that death may die.
Crown Him the Lord of peace, Whose power a scepter sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease, and all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know no end, and round His piercèd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet.
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Other brothers and sisters celebrate.
And more still.
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April 5, 2007
Good Friday
Good Friday. Really? Good? A young man who commanded his disciples to love their enemies, to pray for those who persecuted them, to walk an extra mile with a load that was not one's own, whose only concrete crime was to disturb the peace, to disrupt the merchandise of the spiritual equivalent of today's pay day loan merchants was scourged with a whip that flayed his flesh, mocked, spit upon, and put to death by means of one of the most brutal forms of execution recorded in history. And we call it good?
Good, as in "God saw all that he had made, and it was very good?" Good, as in "Taste and see that the Lord is good?" Good, as in that which we are to cling to, just as fervently as we are to hate that which is evil?
In naming the holiday "good," the church has answered a resounding yes to all these questions. It is as good as the goodness of all creation in its unfallen glory, because it is what allows a return to that glory, and more. It is good, because the Lord, whose goodness of which we are invited to taste, has come more than half way, has tasted to its core the bitter fruit of the Fall, taking death upon himself so that we can once again come to him to taste of his sweetness. It is good, because the evil which we are to hate, which has stained our very souls, can be overcome because of this good day. We need no longer loathe ourselves, because our evil has been forgiven and, because of the resurrection, its power in our lives has been broken.
The opening shots of this post picture death as it affects the creatures of the Earth, the creatures of land and water and air. This is not the place to discuss the differences of theological opinion concerning life and death before the Fall, whether death was an essential part of the ecosystem, whether animals tore one another in predation, whether humans tore animals in predation, whether humans died physically. Those are important questions, to be sure, to which I am still developing answers. However, my very gut reaction to the pictures above confirms what has traditionally been the view of the church, that death is an anamoly, that things should not be so, that, at the very least, God did not intend humans to die through the ravages of disease and war. God certainly did not want humans to die spiritually through disobedience.
I would not post pictures of human suffering here, of someone ravaged by sickness or sorrow, of someone with their body broken by violence, because in so doing I would ratchet up the revulsion we experience from the pictures above to a higher level, to a level we have difficulty bearing. And if I chose to paint word pictures on my blog 24 hours a day, if every blogger in the world could blog 24 hours a day, we could not begin to find the words to describe the suffering of our world. Suffering from which, as my friend Meg reminds us, God does not always protect even his followers in this present age. These pictures, though, serve well to illustrate for us the stench of death, physical and spiritual. We get the point.
Even though I have not sorted out my questions, I essentially agree with C. S. Lewis, against worldviews that merely posit death as natural part of the world, that do not acknowledge, at the very least, that death has taken on added dimensions after the Fall.
"If you do not take the distinction between good and bad very seriously, then it is easy to say that anything you find in this world is part of God....Confronted with a cancer or a slum the Pantheist can say, 'If you could only see it from the divine point of view, you would realise that this is also God.' The Christian replies, 'Don't talk damned nonsense.' for Christianity is a fighting religion. It thinks God made the world--that space and time, heat and cold, and all the colours and tastes, and all the animals and vegetables, are things that God 'made up out of His head' as a man makes up a story. But it also thinks that a great many things have gone wrong with the world that God made and that God insists, and insists very loudly, on putting them right again."
And on Good Friday, God insists loudly in the paradox of his powerful Son, through whom the universe was made, going silently, as a quietly as a sheep before its shearers, to die. Good Friday is good, precisely because it is the hinge point of history, the day when death dies, when death, in Aslan's famous phrase, begins to work backward.
On the existensial level, though, Good Friday still does not seem very good, it is only the backward glance that makes it so. The value of the church year, which I only experience intermittently, is that it makes us go through the darkness before we see the goodness of the day. In services that focus on the death of Christ, some involving candles which are snuffed out leaving churches in darkness, we feel the despair the disciples must have felt. It is this experience of the feeling the darkness symbolically, which makes the hope of the coming light all the more special, when Christ will rise and death will be defeated. Christ has risen and the light of his kingdom has begun to shine. Yet even today sometimes we must endure darkness until we see the Glory of the Lord fill the earth as the waters cover the sea.
"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.' He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!'
Finally, On Good Friday, Jesus practiced what he preached. He loved his enemies and persecutors, praying for their forgiveness. Indeed, he bore the suffering that made that forgiveness possible. And for us, who were enemies of God as a result of our sin, he carried our burdens without being asked to do so, to lengths we could never manage. And that makes this Friday very Good indeed.
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April 1, 2007
El Domingo de Ramos
Seems the sorrow untold, as you look down the road
At the clamoring crowd drawing near
Feel the heat of the day, as you look down the way
Hear the shouts of Hosanna the King
Chorus
Oh, daughter of Zion your time's drawing near
Don't forsake Him, oh don't pass it by
On the foal of a donkey as the prophets had said
Passing by you, He rides on to die
Come now little foal, though your not very old
Come and bear your first burden bravely
Walk so softly upon all the coats and the palms
Bear the One on your back oh so gently
Midst the shouting so loud and the joy of the crowd
There is One who is riding in silence
For He knows the ones here will be fleeing in fear
When their shepherd is taken away
Chorus
Soon the thorn cursed ground will bring forth a crown
And this Jesus will seem to be beaten
But He'll conquer alone both the shroud and the stone
And the prophesies will be completed
Chorus
On the foal of a donkey as the prophets had said
Passing by you He rides on to die
_________________________________________________________
Lyrics: "Ride on to Die" by Michael Card
Table Arrangement: Diane Binnington, using cast off palm fronds from our "Sunday of the Branches" at church today.
Other sisters and brothers celebrate!
_________________________________________________________
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March 22, 2007
Let every creature rise and bring, Peculiar honors to our King
Last night, just after we sang this hymn a dog barked outside the window. During either this hymn or another song, the fish in the picture above did a little shimy up one side of the aquarium. In my anthropomorphising of their behavior I ascribed these acts as they bringing their "peculiar honors" to their king.
Even as I wrote that previous sentence, I realized that my labelling of their actions as anthropomorphic, though essentially true, betrays my mindset to give rather to much due to science, or more precisely, to naturalism. This same bent leads me to perhaps overly question the miraculous. This problem which I find in myself, I find to be even more of a problem in some Christian circles, even conservative ones. Sometimes we truly think and act as if we were materialists, and in so doing sell our birthright as Christians.
So, while the animals were not likely joining in with our chorus, they will and all creation will be completely realigned with God one day, and honor him in whatever peculiar way they are made to. Without knowing how it works, we need to be a little less metaphorical about all creation praising God.
Lewis has some lovely passages trying to depict this truth in both the Chronicles of Narnia and in his Space Trilogy.
At any rate, last night the first few songs of house church were old school hymns, which warmed my heart. Whatever one might think/feel regarding the hymns/choruses discussion, it cannot be denied that some of the old hymns have some lovely poetry in them.
This blog post's title is from Jesus Shall Reign, which has some lyricsthat have a decidedly colonial bent to them. However, allowing for that, the sentiment of the hymn is brilliant, that all peoples and creatures will one day praise God and the Curse will be undone.
Blessings abound wherever He reigns;
The prisoner leaps to lose his chains;
The weary find eternal rest,
And all the sons of want are blessed.
Where He displays His healing power,
Death and the curse are known no more:
In Him the tribes of Adam boast
More blessings than their father lost.
Let every creature rise and bring
Peculiar honors to our King;
Angels descend with songs again,
And earth repeat the loud amen!
Oh, and we sang this hymn with a nice refrain created by our church's music director which drives home this message.
"Heaven and earth resound! Jesus shall reign.
Far as the curse is found. Jesus shall reign!"
Amen and amen.
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March 14, 2007
To Counteract the Silliness...
...a good blog post about urban ministry, suburban ministry, and points in between.
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March 1, 2007
An Informative Blog Post on Wilberforce
This is a Britannica Blog (i.e. sponsored by the Encyclopedia Britannica company) about the recent movie Amazing Grace and about the life of William Wilberfoce which has many infomative links in it, even if many point to a Britannica article. In the first paragraph, there are some links to organizations which are attempting to stop modern slavery which may be useful, including The Amazing Change and Free the Slaves.
One of the links in the article which I wanted to specifically highlight, is an audio link to a BBC program on Wilberforce. I am listening to it just now and it is good.
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February 21, 2007
An Intriguing Post
In this blogosphere suffused with personal opinion and emotion, it is rare to find posts that find the right balance in personal disclosure and combine it with perceptive insight or questioning, particularly in the area of relationships. My friend Laura's post of last summer (which was her second blog post period) accomplished this.
The picture above is Marc Chagall's interpretation of the verse that my friend Michaela uses to introduce her blog post which I find also meets the criteria I described in the first paragraph, and which I have asked her permission to link to from here.
Any thoughts on Michaela's take? You can post comments either here or there. And let me just recommend that you take deep breaths and read entire paragraphs before you come to conclusions.
Continue reading "An Intriguing Post"
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February 19, 2007
Lent Comes a Little Early
The picture above is the last artsy photo I took with my camera. In fact, I took only two more pictures, period, after this one (of a colleague getting some Valentine's Day flowers). Alas, the camera I often described as promiscuous has gone like Gomer. Hosea-like I have made some efforts for her recovery, but it is not looking promising.
At the beginning of a road trip on Thursday, whilst picking up a friend, I hopped out of the passenger seat of a two door car and placed my camera bag and a bag of muffins on top of the car. Rather too eagerly and quickly I hopped in the back seat, yes, forgetting to take what I had recently deposited on the roof. At our next stop to meet more friends, I asked "Hey, where are the muffins?" followed in short order by "Hey, where's my camera bag?" After several fruitless trips of retracing our route, we finally saw some birds rather eagerly pecking at a plastic bag, flattened on the road. Mmm, muffins. Sadly, the black camera bag was nowhere to be found. A passerby had said that they had seen it, however, so we scribbled some notes (offering a reward even) and headed off for our trip about an hour and a half late.
I am praying still for a miracle (and you can rejoice with me when it happens), but if it does not and even if it does, I think I will go ahead and consider this as a part of Lent. I still have not figured out if I am going to do anything else in that regard or even what I think of Lent itself, but we shall see.
Do you all have any thoughts on Lent? Are there any things you are considering giving up (like the cigarettes above pressed into the cold, purifying snow), things which you are willing to share?
Oh, yeah, and the road trip? More on that later. Our time at our destination was great, but on a road trip with friends with silly and challenging things to talk about, road trip food, fun with snow and cell phones, and music for the interludes, well, the journey is of a piece with the destination.
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February 14, 2007
For Valentine's Day: Two From Brother Pastor
Two sermons on marriage providing context for the divorce passages of the Semon on the Mount:
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flock : congregation : priests : body
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January 24, 2007
Erasing Hate Seminar and the L'Abri Conference
The Matthews House Project, the same people who produced Narnia on Tour, in 2005 and evidently again in 2008, are doing a series this year which looks worthwhile. Moreover, the St. Louis session is by Jerram Barrs, so it promises to be engaging, thoughtful, and challenging. Not in St. Louis? Here are some other cities the tour is visiting.
I attended this conference last year and it was very good. The aforementioned Jerram Barrs will be speaking on "Because He is There and Not Silent," "Speaking Prophetically Into the Political Arena," and "Creation and Fall in Perelandra." This lecture alone is why I am going to this conference. Richard Winter from Covenant Seminary is also speaking on "Sex, Body and Bible: A Conversation About Sexuality." I have always found his talks to be excellent. Luke Bobo, also from the seminary, will be talking on "Race: Why Are We Still Talking About It." There are many other excellent talks. Check it out.
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January 15, 2007
Free Range
Inititally, this post was intended to consist simply of a cool picture with a catchy title. However, it got me thinking...
I have some fairly well defined thoughts concerning the issues of free range meat and dairy, vegetarian, and veganism. This is not the post delineating those thoughts either...
Over the past week, I have overhead two friends talking about decisions/resolutions that they have come to. One said that she is going to try to eat only organic meat. The other said she wanted to eat less meat. Amirable and healthy and decisions.
I have often made and want to make similar decisions in the future in this area and other areas related to simple living and lifestyle. What keeps me from doing this? A tremendous intertia in my own soul, a fear of being radical, of going places where others may not follow, of needing to explain unpopular choices, of doing the hard work to alter one's lifestyle. Moreover, the Church, as it reflects society, is not a tremendously accomodating place when it comes to these issues, indeed, any decision that leads to what seems to be a radical life.
Last night, talking to some friends, we talked about how the best sort of changes, the most lasting at least, generally come of small steps rather than large ones. It has taken me a while to learn and to continue to apply that lesson.
Well, I need to bring this ramble in for a landing. More later...at some point.
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December 24, 2006
A Very Happy Christmas to You
I was reflecting with my house church the other day about why there seems to be a collective longing at Christmas for peace and love and joy. What is it that songs like Silent Night, with its tune and words, are drawing out in us, in Christians and many non-Christians? And aren't scenes such as those painted in Silent Night unrealistic? Wasn't it, indeed, noisy and messy and harried. Aren't our manger scenes with the shepherds and wise men all arriving at once un realistic? Aren't they unrealistic with their sheer whiteness, as in my blog Christmas card above, with the pagan Yule tree in the background?
Yesterday, I made my traditional pilgrimage to the Mexican market in San Antonio and saw a dozen or more varieties of manger scenes, many in gaudy and riotious colors, with Mary and Joseph and Jesus and the shepherds and wise men taking on the flavor of the culture the manger scene came from. The Peruvian nativity is my favorite.
It was encouraging to be a little more patient with the Europeanized version of the manger scene and Christmas celebrations. Sure, sure because of horrible things like colonialism and cultural imperialism sometimes this version gets first billing, but this does not mean that those of us who have grown up with it have to forever beat ourselves up about its particular inaccuracies.
The historial record is not unimportant. It is not unimportant that we pay attention to our own culture's syncretisms vis a vis Christmas and hold to our traditions somewhat loosely, perhaps even challenge our cultural emphases occassionally, as we need to throughout the year. Take for example our culture's rampant materialism which kicks into overdrive this time a year.
Yet, in it all, in our gift giving, in our unrealistic creches and carols, in our imperfect attempts at goodwill, a longing is expressed, a longing for the peace of Eden, for its harmony to return. And we Christians know that, indeed what Christmas symbolizes is the beginning of the return of that peace, that Christ's birth and life and death and resurrection is all about bringing that peace to individuals and communities who believe in him, even amidst a world which is still woefully unpeaceful. It is about more than that, though. Christmas is about Christ breaking dramatically into history to eventually bring peace and healing to all of creation.
Finally, a picture of a Christmas card from Pakistan arranged with a cross to illustrate the last verse of Silent Night:
Silent night, holy night
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.
In these thoughts, I pray that you may have a very happy Christmas.
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December 20, 2006
The Blessed Virgin Mary::Theotokos "God-bearer"
Here is an article about Mary by the poet Luci Shaw entiled Yes to Shame and Glory, which is quite good. Here are some excerpts:
Mary will need the exhilaration of these days to balance the pain of the next 33 years and beyond. For God's trust of her is deep enough not only to fill her with his heavy glory but also to draw her into the agony of Incarnation, to share with her the inevitable clash of spirit with flesh, of infinite with finite. There was as much pain as there was promise in that moment when Mary became a mother-to-be.
Mary's calling was to carry the body of God, and to bear not only her own pain but her son's, feeling his anguish as intensely as all mothers before or since have felt with their children.
I have been looking into Catholic beliefs about Mary recently. I learned that the Immaculate Conception refers to the conception of Mary. According to the doctrine, Mary is conceived in the normal way, but Original Sin is removed from her from at conception, so that she can be a pure and sinless vessel for Christ. A second doctrine concerns Mary's perpetual virginity, meaning that she did not have any children after Christ. Catholics say that the references to Jesus' brothers either refer to Joseph's children from a previous marriage and that he was a widower when he married Mary or that these are his cousins. Finally, the Assumption of Mary, which I have not looked into as much, says that Mary was assumed, body and soul, into heaven a bit like Elijah or Christ for that matter.
I do not know what Calvin and Luther believed about the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption of Mary, but they both believed in the perpetual virginity of Mary. That was very interesting to me. The Orthodox Church does not officially believe in the Immaculate Conception but does believe in Mary's perpetual virginity. Not sure what they think about her Assumption.
At any rate, I have no conclusions at this point other than a desire to look into these questions further at some point, particularly the one about Mary's perpetual virginity. I do think that we protestants, generally, do not honor Mary as we should.
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November 25, 2006
Vandalize a Church; Get an Xbox
The charity on display in this article seems wrongheaded on several levels. Or perhaps its not, or well-intentioned but poorly executed. Thoughts?
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November 23, 2006
Thanksgiving
I am thankful for a good day. It began with my roommate Jesse helping me roll about 10 lbs of meat for Pakistani meatballs, which cut the time it took to do it in half. Plus, it was nice to chat and have tea together.
I am thankful for getting to have Thanksgiving dinner with my Mom's family and that my Uncle Virgil was there for another year. Those spicy Pakistani meatballs are somewhat of a tradition and nestle right in with the turkey and dressing and sweet potato casseroles and venison, only my cousin Mark had not got a deer this year, so no venison pieces wrapped in little pieces of bacon. Getting back to the meatballs, though, the husband of one of my cousins, Arthur, loves them. His record, along with eating standard helpings of everything else, is 14. Today, at last check, he was on 8, but he said that he was not done. My cousin Barry was responsible for some wonderful pies (some of which may be in the photo for this post). And thanks to him and Trudy and girls for hosting the entire shindig. This year my cousin Pam's husband died and she was reflecting rather sadly on how this had been his favorite holiday. His two wonderful boys, one the spitting image of his father, were both there, moving on with life, coping with things like playing and watching football and going to college without their father there to cheer them on. I am thankful that one day death will die.
Then the day was capped off with some nice relaxing and chatting at my brother Adrian's house, where I determined that the fruitcake that had been in Dad's fridge for about a year was, indeed, still well worth the eating. Brilliant.
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October 4, 2006
elder : diner : breakfast
steak : eggs : wisdom : nourishment
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September 15, 2006
The Sadness Post
Today, twice I watched my sensitive nephew’s lower lip stick out ever so slightly and quiver as he valiantly tried to fathom and control disappointment. First, as we sat down to dinner, his Veggie Tales plate was being given to a visiting cousin as there were only three of them and there were four children. I saw the lip and the frightened sadness in the big brown eyes. This time it lasted only a moment as the older of the cousins sweetly offered him her Veggie Tales plate, taking the ceramic “adult” plate for herself.
Later, the sadness was not so easily quelled. The visiting cousins were being given a sizeable chunk of his and his sister’s video collection to help them pass the time at Grandpa’s house. He went to his room and quietly began playing with his toys, but that lip and those eyes illuminated his soul, and when his Daddy came in and picked him up, the flood that the lip was trying to keep at bay overflowed in heaping sobs. His Daddy said that it was OK. OK to be disappointed and OK because the tapes would be back. Andrew clung to his Daddy in the full contact way that children do when the hurt is strong, burying his teary face into his Daddy’s shoulder. He stayed that way until we left, his Daddy softly assuring him.
This must be a journal entry from 3 years ago or so. Sorrow at its core emanates from a realization that things are not the way they should be, that loss has occurred. And children understand this implicitly, much as they seem to have an implicit understanding of fairness, even if they do not always put it into practice. And they are, if they are allowed, unafraid to express sorrow out loud. My nephew, five at the time, knew that the plate was his, that the videos were his, and he could not understand why they were being taken from him. There would, of course, be time to explain the virtue of sharing, some of which was done even as he was being comforted, but what my brother did at the time was to address his sorrow. To assure him that, indeed, in that instance at least, everything would be alright.
Of course everything is not alright. And as we grow, in situation after situation, we come to understand that the world is broken, beautiful, full of joys, yes, but broken nonetheless. Life, from one perspective, might be viewed as a succession of realizations of loss, each with its own attendant sorrow: the death of a pet, the death of a loved one, the death of kindness, the death of a friendship, the death of a marriage, the death and carnage in the world every day. Depending on the culture and family in which we grow up we are taught differing things about what to do with our sorrow, some positive, some soul numbing. Sorrow will not go away, though, until the world is healed, so it is important to get it right.
Continue reading "The Sadness Post"
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August 7, 2006
A Piece from Brother Lloyd
Just a last week I said, "My boys don't blog no mo!" Not so. Lloyd has written a thoughtul reflection on Community, Death, and Caring. I commend it to you highly.
Drawing taken from here.
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