Thursday, February 25, 2010

Ordinary Glory

Meteoric snowflakes

Become melting planks

in the eye, emitting epiphanies

of life’s deep mysteries,

And finding divine glory

in the so ordinary


Warm mug filled with chosen brew

Steam facial bath leaves its dew

Frosty windows from which we view:

The landscape morphs before the eyes

As night falls with overcast skies

To end the day we heave a sigh


Shoveling with new neighbors

Stuck cars asking for favors

A good laugh breaks the labor.

City canceled by Wonderland

Making space for Life again

For childish revelry and carpe diem.


Houses slouching speak their despair—

Death-cicles falling, Some roofs giving,

Gutters drooping, ceilings dripping,

By weight of snow, bushes caving—

With the forecast still foreboding

Just hoping for spring in the air


All Earth covered by blanket of white

‘Midst Lent, entombed in frozen night

We yearn to feel Sun’s warming light.

We feel a sorrow, feel death’s cost—

Yet Life beckons, though still no thaw

Like child in womb, Love is not lost

Our dreams and hopes haven’t come to naught

There’s joy, there’s grace—despite the frost

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Emerson at 11 Months

So Emerson has come up with this new face that he makes when he gets frustrated that's a combination between wrinkled brow and huffing and puffing. I'm not quite sure where he got it, but it is quite hilarious, and I mangaged to get it on video when he wound up hurting himself the other day.





We've also been trying to come up with creative ways to get E to eat his vegetables and other foods he's not crazy about. He loves bread and cheese, and a number of fruits--even eats whole pieces of bananas and pears on his own. He usually eats whatever we're having too, so he's been willing to try squash, lentil soup, and has discovered he likes meat too. But to get him to eat broccoli, I've reverted to dipping crackers--or even Chex!--into the broccoli, and amazingly enough, he's gone for it!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

21 Guns

This past Sunday I watched a portion of the Grammys and was taken aback by the powerful lyrics of Green Days's "21 Guns." The song led me to comment on Facebook that Green Day may well be one of our best theologians today. How could that possibly be? The thought will no doubt receive criticism from many, but I am compelled by the thoughtful words of Phyllis Tickle: "More theology is conveyed in, and probably retained from, one hour of popular television than from all of the sermons that are also delivered on any given weekend in America's synagogues, churches, and mosques." There is often more substance, raw honesty, and profundity related to how we percieve God and our world in an episode of "The Simpsons" or "Lost"--or in this case, a punk rock band's song--than in many of the sermons I've heard in my lifetime.

A friend of mine who took my comment seriously considered the lyrics and blogged about it, suggesting that the lyrics are a fine portrayal of the Christian notion of surrender. I think he's right on target, but I want to go a little deeper . [If you are unfamiliar with the song, the lyrics are provided here -- and I encourage you to watch the outstanding music video on youtube!]

"Do you know what's worth fighting for? When its not worth dying for?" Immediately and throughout, the song is a double entendre, calling for a truce, peace, and surrender, both on the personal level and the political. The chorus rings out, "One, 21 guns/lay down your arms, give up the fight/ throw up your arms into the sky, you and I." It is interesting that, in a culture where many people on both sides of the political aisle are tired of the fighting and death in Iraq (except for, perhaps, the "Christian" company that has a $660 million contract with the U.S. military to build gun sights), in a time when when anti-war protesting is higher than it has been since Vietnam, the idea of personal dependency, surrender, and choosing faith and trust over self-will and self-preservation are not given a lot of air time. This notion of giving up control, of a self that recognizes it is passive in the wake of what comes in the future, of the power of powerlessness, is the distinguishing feature of Kierkegaard's notion of human subjectivity. Kierkegaard offers the examples of Abraham in Fear and Trembling and Job in Repetition, both who gave up everything in a moment of madness only to impossibly receive it back again from Whom "all things are possible" and Who reminds us that "Whoever tries to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it."

The simple question raised by Green Day, "What worth fighting for?" is an incredibly profound question. I wonder how many people in the Christian culture wars enraged over the issue of homosexuality (whether for or against), for instance, have stopped to ask, "Is this worth fighting for?" Are my views on this issue "worth dying for"? Is it in my top 10 (or even top 100) list of theological nonnegotiables?

Still further, the song continually makes a point about the nature of our lives and the nature of faith. We all have been hurt, been pained, been betrayed. The list could go on and on of the things that have been done to us -- and the things we've done to others. Amidst it all, there could be a silver lining, not a reason for the pain and hurt, but a passion that proceeds from it. Green Day asks, "Does the pain weigh out the pride? . . . You're in ruins." And still later, "When you're at the end of the road / And you lost all sense of control / And your thoughts have taken their toll / When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul." We can try to think and reason about the meaning of what has happened in our lives, we can search for answers to the horrors and evil in the world, but such strivings often leave us wanting, even crushed in spirit, "and a crushed spirit dries up the bones," said a wise sage long ago. All of this leads to the profound statement by Green Day: "Your faith walks on broken glass." -- which Paul tells us, we see through "darkly."

Even more could be said. By the end of the song, Green Day touches on many more themes that could be developed such as longsuffering ("And the hangover doesn't pass"), repentance, forgiveness, and idolatry ("Did you stand too close to the fire / Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone"), redemption ("And you can't get another try"), brokenness and disappointment ("Nothing's ever built to last" and "Something inside this heart has died."), and resurrection, or the very Christian notion the life so often arises through death, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes ("When it's time to live and let die." As Jesus reminded us, only when a seed is put in the ground and "dies" that it produces fruit [Jn. 12:24; cf. Gal. 2:19]).