What Do You Believe Is True Even Though You Cannot Prove It?

Great minds ponder a great question.

Warning: Hold tightly to your ears to keep your head from spinning.

The Evidence Will Show

Whilst (that’s a word -- look it up) painting dining room walls with a good friend a couple weeks ago, we were discussing “paranormal” phenomenon. He related a few recent personal stories of unexplainable happenings. For example, things he knew would happen before they did, and that knowledge somehow assisted in the development of the related events.

I recalled my experience weeks prior to 9/11/01 – not that my knowledge assisted anyone, but I have reluctantly seen this type of thing first hand. Jeanne related a story about the disappearing door. Was it really missing the first time around?

I think 99% of the time there is a rational explanation for these types of things. We are intuitively in touch with connections in our surroundings. Our minds perceive far more than we are aware of. For the sake of survival and sanity, we filter out most of what goes on around us and zero-in on what we believe relevant. This partly explains why people in crisis often describe things going in slow motion: surroundings and perceptions suddenly become more “present”. We never really forget anything. We just conserve our mental (and emotional) energy by spending it in places we believe will provide the greatest safety.

On the flip of that coin, we probably don’t pay attention to a huge amount of this sort of thing. There are times when there is absolutely no rational explanation. Something super-natural has happened. I’m one of those that believe the universe is far bigger than our instruments can measure, and I’m not referring to the literal size of the cosmos. Science itself points beyond science. I think most probably acknowledge this. After all, to believe that daily life-as-we-understand-it is all there is – that’s quite a leap of faith.

What I think is most interesting is that there seems to be just enough evidence. Just enough to either deny or believe. If you want to toss this stuff aside, it’s not so hard to do. If you look for the unexplainable (or in my case, the activity of the Creator), there’s plenty to be found.

I think it’s a shame: there are plenty of examples where we too quickly give in to either side. We don’t like to be caught with our categories down. The rationalist makes just as silly a mistake as the paranormal-addict. “There is a God! Look! I have him here in this box!” Rubbish. If there is a God, he’s far larger than our metrics in columns and rows. And he is.

Broken

Been home with the flu since mid-day yesterday. Ack. I’d forgotten how much fun it can be. Everyone in the house save my 74-year old mother-in-law, and 4-year-old daughter got socked in the gut. Little CindyLou Who wanted to climb in bed with us, but she just got, “We don’t want you to get sick, Avery.” Her answer: “Ok. I won’t.” She didn’t … at least not yet.

The place has finally settled a bit. The Christmas tree is mostly upright, walls are painted, mother-in-law has moved in. I could live without the flu, but there are worse things.

We recently acquired a photo of my father-in-law:

Don left the family when my wife was 5, and shot himself in despair after the “affair with the secretary” proved (I assume) less than fulfilling about 10 years later. What a horrible tragedy … that has lead to other tragedies. I do wish I could have a conversation with him. There’s too much that doesn’t fit. He was apparently often great as a dad, even if he had a hot temper. He’d take the family on daytrips and vacations, they decided to adopt a child together, he loved taking the family out to eat, they sang songs in the car, and got generally silly. Something of an artist, he went right up the ladder at Westinghouse. Somewhere along the line, something went wrong. I suspect it was small and slow at first, each step building on another. I may never know exactly.

Things like that seep back into my thoughts around the holidays. Life is not as it should be. The world is askew. It wouldn’t be so bad for the world to be askew, if I (we) didn’t have this sometimes-overbearing desire for things to be “right” – there is a “way things should be”, and we all know it. I suppose that’s why we get angry and frustrated when we see things go wrong, even if it doesn’t have a direct impact on us.

All this makes me think I need to keep myself in check, and figure out how to see the world as good, even though it is clearly broken in half -- kind of like a family that the father has abandoned. I need to remember that my imperfect sense of “should” probably exists because the target is real. I will give up pretending everything is ok. I will give up abandoning the world as completely lost and ruined. I need to do the difficult work of redeeming the broken-ness of the word, because the world -- that is, other people -- matter, and they are valuable. And my own brokenness is fixed as I go.

I think this is why it is a good thing to be alive.

Merry Christmas

La Fille du Fromage

Our littlest has earned a reputation as the "Cheese Girl" among her siblings for her penchant for cheddar. I found myself referring to her fondly by another blogger’s title. Cute, eh?

Mr Superior

Today I have effectively mocked Pat Robertson, Irish, Swedes and drunks. Some of my favorite people!

Still Looking For Those Marbles

Pat Robertson is ready to call down fire on your town should you vote incorrectly. Beware!

Yoga

Indian vs. Irish. Can you see the subtle difference?

A man walks into a bar

... with a slab of asphalt under his arm and says, "A beer please, and one for the road."

Sweden's Other White Meat

More True

Today at work I had to tell an older gentleman that he was “probably not a good fit”. He’s perhaps 65, has done very high-level computer work in the past, including network admin. The things I am asking him to do are below his (former) level of functioning, but it seems painfully obvious that he’s just not able to catch on after a couple weeks on the job.

It feels like I’m firing my father. Like my dad, he’s forgetful and scattered -- not quite present when you talk to him. Giving signals that he’s not quite telling himself the truth.

This made me wonder if I’m not simply moving in that direction unaware as time marches on. Am I really all that different? I imagine that it’s just some generational thing (“They were all like that back when.”) … What will my kids say about me?

I was lamenting all this with a peer afterward, and began (as I do) to make broad statements about why things are as they are ... you may recall that I am a good former-fundamentalist. I said that I thought emotional health boils down to telling ourselves the truth, and dealing with that truth reasonably. My apologies for recycling post material.

Why don’t we? What are we afraid of?

(enter bearded therapist with notepad)

I often fear loss of control. I want to do things my way, because I do not trust. I fear what I don’t know. Death. Loss. Loneliness. Rejection. Insignificance. Hemorrhoids. Damn, my list could get long quick.

I see why the only way out is to forget about my miniature problems as frequently as possible, and give myself away to help somebody else. There is no fear of death when you have already died.

instant

I am now displaying mid-life crisis symptoms. I have discovered IM. That’s the thing teenagers do since they cannot speak without mumbling. I need to learn all the relevant terms. Apparently the IM world speaks in acronym. Find your favorites here.

RTFM
TAFN

True

"Truth is our friend."

I have chosen to reveal to my spouse a secret that was painful for her to hear. I am tired of this seemingly small issue having some sort of control over my life. Anything we keep hidden controls us. I believe this now.

So that sucked. Not exactly well received. She thought everything was just fine in our world, but she was mistaken. My revelation frees me, but it burdens her.

I am fortunate enough to have friends that can bear this truth, and not be burdened overmuch with feelings of betrayal. They hear, and it is what it is. Our friendship is unshaken.

My wife, bless her, does not have the luxury of separation. She has bound herself to me, and so, to my mistakes. This is hard.

I see that life itself is a choice of honesty or no. We have many subtle ways of keeping hidden. I don’t want to be hurt. I protect myself. You don’t really see me, since what I am for you is often only a shell that keeps me safe. The real me is carefully guarded.

Perhaps this sounds trite. I don’t really care about that. Are you really yourself with those you care about? Freedom is found in being able to be genuine in all circumstances. This includes your problems and pains. That means that people will have information about you that can hurt you. And they will. Are you willing?

Almost a Post

I promise to write soon. Aaarghh! I'm jus a lazy som-ov-beetch.

As you were!

Brendar Located

Nothing to read? Why not read nothing? Our crack team of blogosphere investigators has located the new website of our beloved negative and sarcastic friend Brendar:

http://illustriousbrendar.blogspot.com/

Further harassment is in order.

Lost

I discovered this summer that flip-flops are one of humanity’s greatest inventions. Slip them on and stuffy, formal worries about retirement plans, paying for college, and money-market accounts fade to vapor.

What the hell have I got to worry about? My bride and I are “thinking” about further procreation. I am not the great Catholic “let’s have 25 kids and piss of the population-control types” … but I really think there is no bad in having kids. We are fortunate to be fertile, have reasonable means, and are both (relatively) emotionally stable. The “war on terror” has not yet arrived in the metro area. The idea is this: struggle and “difficulty” are what helps us to really live. Along with cute sayings and their adorable looks when they are little, kids bring that in spades.

A friend of mine describes someone he knows well as being lonely and lost. He apparently inherited more than he needs to avoid work. Sounds great, eh? He dabbles in this and that, and spends lots of time shopping for big-screen TVs, Harleys, and houses. I am confident that he is a good man, better than me, but his situation seems to leave him somewhat adrift. “He has no real responsibilities,” my friend observes. Nothing to keep him in the game. He can’t seem to find a girlfriend worthy of his time. The American Dream of independent wealth seems to have left him a slave to his own whims. Isolated and aimless.

The opposite side -- so we think -- is slavery to mundane responsibilities. I need to get to work, put up with my boss, deal with idiots, suffer abuse, come home to an exhausted spouse, fighting and complaints, pay bills late, miss out on this and that due to a lack of funds and/or pressing responsibilities, and basically not get the things I think I want.

There are a few hundred country songs out there that convey a truly sappy message about how the writer finds joy in his or her relationships in the midst of problems and difficulties (broken fridge, not enough money, etc.). I am sometimes irked by the over-simplification you find in many country songs, but this particular sentiment is dead-on. The counter-intuitive reality is that the things we are constantly looking for – that we believe will fulfill us, are sometimes the very trap that isolates us. It is struggle, process, “not-yet arriving” that draws us to each other, and to meaningful relationships.

The funny thing is, we are already and always unavoidably in the middle of this, whether we like it or not. I wonder if we wouldn’t be better off to just relax and appreciate things a bit more. A beer with friends, yakking about our troubles is not wasted time. It is life itself.

Apologies to anyone who occasionally checks this spot for verbiage. I have been present, but occupied. Many childrens, many chores, house a wreck (making more house), work has been the same.

I have managed to keep up with my second favorite sport (after sex): cycling. But the blog thing has suffered. I have not yet officially graduated to the elite group on the Wednesday night ride, but a few weeks ago I put the hurt on all of them. Way to go old man. Heh.

I’m greatly anticipating the annual pilgrimage to the mountains and the Sacred Pond. Smoke and flame. Floats and beer. Food and talk. 3 miles of pain. A 97% lager & protein diet for 4 days. There is nothing better, I think. Heaven will be exactly like this. I am dying to find out WTF has been going on with my fellow sarcastic Martians. Some of these I only see monthly for 3 hours or so, and that doesn’t do the trick. 4 weeks and counting.

nuttin to say

Months go by ... nuttin to say. I either suddenly have a life, or have blogger's cramp (or writer's constipation, etc.). The former is highly unlikely, since I'm sure I would probably be one to know if I got a life ... or maybe my psyche is typing all this remotely?

But then ...

What to do with this Jesus? I can rant and complain all day long (I often do) -- but in the end, I have to deal with him. I am not able to rest with the "really great guy" perspective on a person who apparently claimed to be the creator, and brought people back from the dead. This always seems to turn everything upside-down.

Timber!

He told his next story to some who were complacently pleased with themselves over their moral performance and looked down their noses at the common people: “Two men went up to the Temple to pray, one a Pharisee, the other a tax man. The Pharisee posed and prayed like this: ‘Oh, God, I thank you that I am not like other people--robbers, crooks, adulterers, or, heaven forbid, like this tax man. I fast twice a week and tithe on all my income.’ Meanwhile the tax man, slumped in the shadows, his face in his hands, not daring to look up, said, ‘God, give mercy. Forgive me, a sinner.’ Jesus commented, “This tax man, not the other, went home made right with God. If you walk around with your nose in the air, you're going to end up flat on your face, but if you're content to be simply yourself, you will become more than yourself."
Luke 18:10-14 The Message

Sometimes I think that the folks that need Jesus’ teaching the most are people like me who already claim to be his followers. Ironic? Or have I misunderstood how God’s providence works?

Much of my thoughts lately have concerned how small our (collective) vision of God often is. Thankfully, there are some through history who seem to see things more clearly than us bottom dwellers. I suspect they often just don’t make sense to the rest of us, and their life is only understood after they die – and then only in part.

To continue a theme, I think this leads me to believe that both people inside & outside any given spiritual tradition are just as likely to be “right with God”, assuming they are practicing self-honesty. I just don’t think paradise is guarded by a demand for accurate recitation of a creed. Apologies if I am just repeating myself. I do think this matters.

I don’t think this negates the objective value of true religion or creed as a tutor. And if such a thing as truth exists (and it does), it is likely that some religions are truer than others. Religious practice and belief is to some degree a mirror of the reality it seeks to represent. We can use any good thing toward selfish & destructive end. That is the very definition of sin. Some have decided, either consciously or intuitively, to disregard religion -- or any expression of formalized spirituality -- as a reaction against the negatives that can come with it. Or more practically, because religious folks are regularly twits (see the prior post). That is a classic “baby with the bathwater” shame. Religion doesn’t kill people. People kill people -- no offense to gun-control advocates.

This small-vision thing is so dominant that I’m sure we usually don’t realize it. Western Christians, who to their credit occasionally acknowledge the problem, are a good case in point. We tend to lock in a view, and then patronize those with diverging viewpoints as “lost” or “blinded”, before we understand what the other person really thinks. I know it’s a two way street, but we generate a lot of fine material for satire.

I have this hunch that God will shortly take those of us who look down our snouts at the "heathen", and somehow knock us on our figuratively-lily-white asses. Unless we decide to swallow a healthy dose of humility ourselves. We’ll see.

Effective Life

I must admit that as a group, Christians are often unpleasant to be around. I don’t mean always, or all Christians, but far too much. Many of us are wrapped in our own superior self-righteousness. We are frequently emotionally unbalanced, and our external behavior can easily be a socially-acceptable cover for selfishness.

Notice also, that many people of ambiguous faith, or those without any strong conviction about their own beliefs (let alone the good people of other faiths), can often be not only kind, but also genuinely loving and unselfish.

What of this?

Although for some reason, this does not seem to challenge my own belief about what is true, or who is God, I am gradually persuaded that a truly “effective” life (in the most significant sense) is not necessarily bound to a particular creed. That’s a hard opinion to maintain for someone like myself who not only holds a creed, but my particular selection is rather elaborate and by nature exclusive. But, go figure. That’s what I think.

Papa Ratzi

Ok -- sorry for the lack of new material. No extended pining for the former pope, I've just been busy.

So, the “German Shepherd” is quite the deal. At 78, he won't be around long, but he's obviously interested in doing more that filling a gap. The theological conservatives have spoken, and I’m glad. The RCC remains what it is by its faithfulness to its past. I’m hopeful he’ll continue to build bridges to Orthodox and Protestant Christians, as well as people of other faiths. He seems to be able to adapt and re-align his approach for the new job description.

From this past Wednesday:

I wish to put my ministry at the service of reconciliation and harmony among men and nations ... to hold firm the centrality of Christ.

From Catholic Culture :

"Cardinal Ratzinger served the CDF only at the request of Pope John Paul II and, by all reports, he didn’t particularly like the job ... he was called upon to discipline only rarely, under instructions from the Pope he served ... while head of the CDF, Benedict XVI had his finger on the pulse of many more problems and controversies than those resulting in public discipline. He is certainly well aware of the length and breadth of infidelity within the Church at every level, and his many statements ... make it clear that he theologically opposes all that is unfaithful to the authentic teaching of Christ ... Nor could he have long survived in his previous position without being a man of considerable courage."

John Paul II

Karol Wojtyla
1920-2005


Well Done Good and Faithful Servant

peacemaker

"It is necessary to awaken again in believers a full relationship with Christ, mankind's only saviour. Only from a personal relationship with Jesus can an effective evangelisation develop."

"The question confronting the Church today is not any longer whether the man in the street can grasp a religious message, but how to employ the communications media so as to let him have the full impact of the Gospel message."

"Anything done for another is done for oneself."

"I hope to have communion with the people, that is the most important thing."

Risen!

Confession

It was about 4PM. As I leaned against the corner of a brick building downtown waiting for the next light rail train, I could see three rough looking young guys walking my direction, passing me on the right. The last one to pass -- a little shorter than me, but very burley -- had a troubling look on his face as if he were up to something. Just after he walked by I heard a “thump”, a squeaky laugh, and some struggle. The burley one had decided to pin an elderly oriental gentleman who was walking in the other direction against the wall, and he was using some force – apparently to impress his friends or something. The old man was obviously in pain.

Absolutely no one paid attention. People (dozens of them) just kept walking by as if nothing were happening. I was stunned. I needed to do something, but I felt frozen. Right before I worked up the nerve to confront him, he walked off, dropping the old man to his knees, “Stupid Chink!”

I helped the old guy up, and he hobbled off back where he had come from. Clearly he had been injured.

I felt ashamed that I had not responded quickly enough.

A few minutes later a younger man, I assume a grandson or relative, came running down toward where all this had happened. He was obviously very upset. I offered that I had seen what happened, and he said that the old guy was pretty badly hurt and an ambulance was on the way. I told him I could identify the burley guy, but as I related more of the story his appreciation turned to disgust, as it became apparent that I had the opportunity to act, but did nothing. This could have just been my impression, but it seemed that way to me at the time.

I realized that this is such a clear picture of so many things I deal with. It’s not so much that I do evil things, but that I fail to do the right thing – out of cowardice or laziness. This is quite a wake up.

I have a good friend that believes the greatest struggle most men deal with is what he calls “the sin of Adam” – failure to take responsibility, failure to act in promotion or defense of those we are responsible for, including our neighbor. It takes many forms. He is right.

Absolutely

All absolutes are false. Except for that one.
All truth is relative. Except for that one.
I am a small-minded dolt. That one just stands on it’s own.

My wife knows I get annoyed when she takes a swig of my beer from the bottle, and leaves it brimming with foam. I don’t know why she does this, but it seems to give her some satisfaction that such a meaningless thing can perturb me. At the same time (no kidding), I interpret this as an oblique form of communication of her love for me. She knows me, and we have this little ritual, our ritual. My annoyance is irrelevant compared to her subtle silent communication: “I know you, and you belong to me as much as I to you.”

Makes me all hot-n-bothered just thinking about it.

Seen Dad?

You just can't make this stuff up. We are a lonely species.

Who Do You Love?

Please fasten your seatbelt, and place your seat in the upright position.

Same-sex marriage appears to be a topic high on a lot of people’s lists. The curious thing is that folks on both sides are incredulous that the other side could have reasoned arguments. Somehow I feel that this issue is central to deeper questions of meaning ... not really sure why.

The obvious irritation for me –- even assuming homosexuality has a sinful character -- is that many religious folk handle this with special zeal. I’ve yapped about that in previous posts. Top executives rob blue-collar workers of their health and retirement, our government finds creative ways to discriminately support genocide, but that’s small potatoes compared to sodomy. I truly think the comparison to racial prejudice is apt.

I have heard people contend that legalization of same-sex marriage implies an endorsement of homosexuality. Of course it does, but that begs the question. At issue is the belief that homosexual unions are wrong. I am personally unable to conclude that certain sexual drives are wrong. They are innate, or at least they can show up without consent. If even the temptation of a man for another man’s wife is not wrong in itself, it hardly seems valid to rearrange this thinking in the context of gender preference. Assuming these drives are at least sometimes innate, why is the natural fulfillment of them considered by some to be wrong?

One interesting idea is “natural function”. Homosexual acts employ the body’s reproductive system in a way that is impossible to fulfill its (arguably) primary function: childbearing. This is simple fact. Homosexuality occurs in the animal kingdom, but the same idea applies there. This doesn’t just refer to the frustration of internal squishy blobs and tubes, but the perpetuation or extinction of species. In spite of this, it seems like a weak argument to say, “If all sexual acts were homosexual, the species would die out.” Duh. If every player were a pitcher, the team would always loose every game. In other areas of life, we don’t justify different expressions using this test. Some heterosexual couples are aware prior to marriage that they are unable to bear children. No one would say their union is invalid.

Another concern sometimes raised is the idea that permitting same-sex marriage will weaken the family and/or society. In countries where same-sex marriage laws have been passed, marriage in general becomes far less frequent, although one could argue this would be the case anyway in post-religious culture. Instead, people decide to live together more often, and these informal unions -- due to their temporary nature -- break down frequently, often leaving children in their wake. Assuming some cause-effect relationship exists, and it’s mighty hard to argue otherwise, even this seems to be more of a symptom than a root problem.

I think perhaps the implied (if not practiced) permanence of marriage does serve the end of raising children more than it presents the often-proposed converse problem: bad marriages harm children, not to mention the partners. Reason supports the idea that children are best supported by parents in an exclusive, permanent relationship. Are same-sex unions unable to meet this criterion? I would guess that denying a same-sex couple that wishes to raise children the ability to publicly formalize their commitment might add to the problem.

Then we come to biblical condemnations. Some are tied to old-covenant purity laws. Some seem to be clear prohibitions for all people at all times, but so does head-covering and similar practices. I admit that these are different issues, but I wish it was more obvious.

I believe that life -- not to mention marriage, or any relationship – is best lived by sacrificing self for the best interest of others. That’s it. That’s what I know. Sure wish I could just do it well.

Various Random

Out for 32 miles today, halfway through the ride I noticed about 75 yards of audiotape strewn across road, no mind for the wind and trucks blowing by. Disregarded. I couldn’t be sure, but something was telling me it was a recorded song. As if the psychic energy of the dying tape was leaking onto the road …

Heads of state who ride and wrangle
who look at your face from more than one angle
can cut you from their bloated budgets
like sharpened knives through chicken mcnuggets

Couldn’t get that riddim out of my head for the rest of the trip, but it did help on the painful up-hills.

I also caught a “gaggle” of gorgeous Canadian geese just lounging in an unused field. They are amazing creatures. They fly in thier “v” to cut down on energy. The lead bird -- each one rotates to that position -- cuts the wind, and each following uses 40-60% as much energy. When a member gets tired or injured, if they fall away from the group, two strong geese will fall out of formation to bring the weaker bird back to the group. It would not be able to make it back itself. In a bike (road) race, similar ideas apply. Drafting is a critical part of the race. The designated leader rides behind each teammate (“domestique”) in turn, each sacrificing all his energy for the sake of the leader, so he will have more to expend at the end of the contest. In the goosey world, cooperation is necessary for survival, not just an advantage in competition.

I love these images, because they are such a great picture of life. We are built for relationships. No exceptions. We do not survive without them. If we fall (and we do, eh?), it is critical that we have others to bring us back into the race. With them, we don’t just survive, we can flourish, and at times take the lead – and the hard work – on behalf of others.

In rugged contrast (or perhaps not?) I soon afterward rode past a group of aspiring young rednecks on ATV’s. Yeehaw. They actually chased me for about half a mile. Screaming something like “faggot!” or whatever. I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended, but something about the encounter made me grin.

Ok, my impression of the first 5 chapters of Melville’s Moby: Queer eye for the harpoon guy. Not that there’s anything wrong with that …

<< frivolous information section >>

Favorite liquids, in this order:

1. Strong Italian coffee
2. Extra-dry vodka martini up, shaken, olive
3. Pedro’s extra-dry chain lube (I've apparently got a thing for x-dry)
4. Room-temp water
5. Hearty red wine
6. OJ
7. Citrus Cytomax

If I have consumed all in one day, I mark a notch on my bike.

The Cruelty of Life

I heard today that presidents Clinton and GHW Bush became emotional when presented with pictures made by children showing their parents swept away by the tsunami.

Shit.

What are we whining about?

Bookish

I just opened Moby Dick for the first time. I know … I’m a literary loser. I’m only on the 5th chapter (of 134, thank you), but already I am feeling “Ohmygod, this is the best book I have ever read!” I just don’t know why it has taken me 25 years of adult literacy to get around to this work.

I had this sneaky plan this past Christmas. I want my oldest son (and the siblings after him) to read some contemporary classics, so I went on Amazon and bought about a dozen $5 paperback versions of these things “for my kids”. Animal Farm, Of Mice and Men, Lord of the Flies, Fahrenheit 451, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, etc. Stuff that is perhaps over his head right now, but of more substance than Harry Potter. I must admit that the Lemony Snicket books are creative and of surprising quality, but I don’t want him to skip these gems.

I have spent way too much of my post-collegiate reading time with the Christian “challenge and encouragement” genre. Not that this is a bad thing, it’s just like having spinach for every meal for several years. I have tinkered with fiction and such, but my diet is (was) far to unbalanced.

So I am determined to read about the whale. I truly can’t wait.

Monster Vote

Jordan, our 13-year old artist, entered the "Miguzi Make a Monsterpiece" art contest sponsored by Cartoon Network. Out of over 104,000 entries by kids 13 and under, he is one of 10 finalists. These 10 kids will have their pictures on the Cartoon Network website from Feb 14 to Feb 21 so that visitors can vote on their favorite (not more than once a day!). The picture with the most votes will be used in a cartoon on TV.

So ... please ask everyone you know, including grandma, your boss, your neighbor, and the postman to vote for Jordan's picture. Thanks much!!

We

I am sure I have seasonal affective disorder. I have abundant disorders. I can post a list if needed. I need sunlight like a reptile. Give me 25 years -- I'll be in Florida complaining about the enormous insects.

What is the deal with moods? Some people are cheerful all the time, others brooding. Some of us shift like a dancer’s steps. I am one of the moodiest people I know. I wouldn’t want to live with me.

Someone once told me that there is more value in loving people when you don’t feel like it than when emotions easily lead you there. It’s more intentional, and more of a self-offering. Ironically, the more we invest in others like that, the more we feel drawn to serve them. A bit like owning a home vs. renting a place. We are not just self. We are these others. Perhaps that’s why an offence against another is more like a self-destructive act than not.

Welcoming Porn Stars and Addicts

Jesus was more concerned about the hypocrisy and “heavy burdens” from the religious leadership of his time than correcting the behaviors of those on the social fringe. In fact, he went out of his way to befriend and identify himself with the furthest out: touching lepers, drinking and socializing with prostitutes and tax collectors. He didn’t set aside any laws, just added qualifiers to the law: those without sin should throw the first stone. He didn’t condone their behavior; it simply wasn’t the focus of his interest. As he welcomed them, they examined their own hearts, and came to their own radical conclusions about their need to change. He loved them and welcomed them, and allowed the rest to take it’s course. It was only the religious self-righteous that he challenged regarding obedience and behavior – mainly because their (our) biggest problem was (is) failure to see their (our) own flaws.

We -- Christian culture -- have trouble understanding this. We like to think of ourselves as being the marginalized, but this is not the point. Jesus was marginalized. He did not set out to re-establish his own rights. I think this is why I react with frustration at the Christian Right’s condemnation and fear related to the perceived culture war. Because to some degree, they are me. Is there a culture war? Sure. But I wonder if our demands for others to conform (and thereby create a Christian state?) often made implicitly upon those outside, fuel misunderstanding and antagonism far more than assuage it. We need to stop spending so much time in vindicating our position, and welcome those on the margins. The way that man did. The one we name ourselves for.

Conspiracy

Thank goodness Dr. Dobson is watching out for the best interest of our children. What next? Perhaps there is a secret Al Qaeda plot lurking in our Sunday-school curriculum!

LiveStrong

If you've lived long, you know someone who battles cancer. Perhaps someone very close to you. Some have lost. Many fight now. I encourage you to give to this fight -- click the link in the title of this post.

Show solidarity with those fighting cancer. If you would like a wristband, let me know your address ... I'll send you as many as you want, in exchange for a commitment to donate any amount to the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

Many thanks.

The Point

Rachel and I were talking Thursday about the interdependent setup that we are hoping to develop on our team at work. It became suddenly very obvious to both of us that this is the way life is in general: engineered so that we need each other.

Clay recently had a similar comment –- he offered that disagreement brings fruit, and fosters community and interaction. He provided this:

C.S. Lewis loved 'rational opposition' and Barfield supplied plenty of this. Besides sharing the same interests, Lewis wrote in Surprised by Joy, Barfield 'approaching them all at a different angle.' 'When you set out to correct his heresies,' said Lewis, 'you find he forsooth has decided to correct yours! And then you go at it, hammer and tongs, far into the night...out of this perpetual dogfight a community of mind and a deep affection emerge.' Barfield compared arguing with Lewis to 'wielding a peashooter against a howitzer'. It must be understood that 'rational opposition' is not quarreling. 'We were always,' said Barfield, 'arguing for truth not for victory, and arguing for truth, not for comfort.'

Clay is right. The interaction that disagreement requires is usually more important than the solution.

Walter the Farting Dog

Ok, I’m not making this up.

My 4-year-old found this lovely book at the library. Reading it to him last night, it had the gritty feel of a Tarantino film. The first thing you notice is that the art is all Picasso/Dali surreal.

Walter is sold to a clown for ten bucks by a lying father -- due to the low take on their yard sale (old dentures, dig biscuit, dirty sock, broken sunglasses, used underpants, you get the picture)... which itself is partially a result of the stench of pooch flatus. The clown feeds the dog beans, and straps a glass “fart-catcher” to Walter’s arse that blows up balloons, all for a “good cause” … children’s birthday parties.

In reality, the clown is a manipulative bank robber, using the balloons as weapons to stun and “leverage” anyone in his way: “… or I’ll pop every one of them!”

After the heist, Walter is cajoled by the thief to eat up for the next job, but apparently a leak develops in the contraption on the dog, and the clown’s $50 cigar ignites the “gas” with a vengeance. The clown is blown through a TV set, and with smoking tail, Walter heads home – finding his family and leading the police to the hideout. All is well.

The book is dedicated to “everyone who’s ever felt misjudged or misunderstood.”

Absolutely one of the best I’ve ever read.

Relijun

Lately I have been thinking about the purpose of Religion (besides war and bigotry). It seems that we (people "with skin on") need a tangible way to acknowledge God. This is to our own benefit. Corporate worship and practices can facilitate that. Faith content is best taught, understood, protected, and "managed" in general in a community where there is opportunity to flush out and apply the ideas of belief, where accountability is natural, and where people are challenged and encouraged to live consistent with what they believe. This "living" thing only seems relevant in relationships. This is one of the only ways we get a regular opportunity to die to self. Community is just a larger expression of family. We need a safe community to encourage that and live it out practically.


I made a comment a couple nights ago that seemed to make Tom uncomfortable: I believe my particular understanding of God and the world to be true -- at least as much as reasonable (as everyone except the psychotic does) and I am comfortable identifying my religion with God, however, I have been less comfortable lately identifying the Creator of Everything with my religion.

It just seems unreasonable that a supposedly infinite being could be captured and explained, even by a very very long list of whatnot. "God", if such a being exists, could only ever be partially understood. Religious belief can never reveal the whole picture. I suppose that doesn't mean that religious belief can't contain truth; it just won't be able to contain all truth. Which makes me wonder about the difference between partial understanding, and incorrect understanding.

So what of this truth? Is there such a thing as objective reality when speaking of God? I was violently protective of that idea for as long as I can recall, until about 5 months ago. Slowly, I am beginning to wonder if a demand for objective truth is necessary, or even healthy.

Uh ...

Transfomed!

To Jeanne

I do worry too much. Life is short. There is much to appreciate, and many to love. At risk of sounding overly sentimental, I’d like to kiss more young and old folks, and encourage the rest. So much to appreciate! There really is no other way than love. I don’t do this well, but I am working on “figuring it out”. I don’t mean getting fancy new knowledge, as much as letting go of old encumbrance. Mostly, it’s an issue of being honest (thank you, Jeanne), and looking after other people instead of self. Self-thought can poison our ability to give. What else brings meaning, except to offer ourselves to others?

Hurt

As is my habit, I commuted to work by bicycle on Friday. It’s dark both ways, so the bike lights are important. On my way out of the building to come home, I found that I had apparently forgotten to fully re-charge my headlamp.

Should I call my wife? A cab? Maybe look for a lift from a co-worker? I left the building as a typical Independent American Male. No asking for help. Such a thing is shameful to the North American bearers of the XY-chromosome. So, of course, I chose to take the risk. Auh Auh Auh!

I rode off down the hill, after only a few moments I was asking for divine safety. I actually found myself (embarrassingly) singing an 80’s Christian song about angelic protection. At points, I was really quite scared. I could not see where I was going. Oncoming cars could not see me, and would occasionally turn into my path.

Deciding to ride in the dark, despite the risk -- I had gotten myself into my own bad situation -- made me think of the fact that I have done that type of thing many times before, and in far more significant ways.

Again, on a steep uphill (epiphany always come to me on climbs), the idea occurred to me that I had somehow … hurt God’s feelings. Perhaps not by riding in the dark that night, as much as metaphorically doing the same at other times. At first this “hurt feelings” thing seemed like a ridiculous proposition. After all, God does not need my friendship. He exists independent and complete, apart from any other being. Entertaining this thought seemed almost wrong: as if God were a weak, dependent person.

Person.

I realized that up to this point in my life, my “relationship” with God has been less of an actual relationship, and more of a formula, and standard of observance. By “observance”, I don’t necessarily mean formal worship codes, or a list of rules -- I’m talking about my conception of God, and the way I approach him. The idea that he could actually be hurt by my actions (or inaction) was honestly, a new realization. At least, I am now more willing to consider that this is the case.

I think that up to this point, I have not really understood the *personal* love that God has for me (and us). He wants a real relationship with us as any other person might. He seeks us, and is both disappointed and hurt by our rejection of him. This is far different from an angry, vindictive deity who waits to pounce when we step out of line. It’s so funny – I thought that I had dispensed with that caricature of God long ago.

Perhaps this is old news to you. In a way, it is not new to me either. I have believed this on some level all along, but I had not until now really understood it. I am actually ashamed that I have not given God more credit. If I, as a poor parent, could be so broken or moved by the actions and decisions of my own children – I would be willing to jump in front of the proverbial bus for any of them – would God feel less so?

BunnieFlix

I have little stomach for gory films such as The Exorcist, The Shining, or Jaws, but if someone were too ... say ... compress the story to 30 seconds, and use cartoon bunnies ... I could be hip to that.

Compliments of 30-Second Bunnies Theater by Angry Alien Productions.

Mudman

He appeared to be wandering around the side of this old farmhouse without a specific aim. At first, I just thought he was a guy with lots of brown on.

I had the day off work today, and decided to ride about 50K’s through a moderately hilly part of the county so dogs could chase me. What a kick. Anyway, as I was puffing up this “moderate” hill, with all the effort of an Olympic athlete, and the velocity of an arthritic grandmother’s walk -- on the left I see this brown dude sauntering about.

As I get closer, I can see that it is an adult humanoid, completely covered with medium-brown, chunky mud. No red mouth, no eyeholes, just wet dirt. Ok. “… wonder what that’s about …” I muttered to myself between gasps.

I never did stop to ask. I’m sure it was a great story, “Well, y’see we’ve this pregnant sow out by the barn, an’ she just don’t see the sense in raising her porky self to come inside, and we figgered the tractor was too dangerous. Then me and Buford figgered that we could just drag her back inside. She’s a bit bigger than we realized. Yep.” He did seem a bit ghost-like, disappearing and everything once I got close enough.

Anyway, every time I ride by the place I will probably look to see if Mudman cleaned up, or if he still wanders the farmland … looking for his lost pregnant pig.