is content to wait
takes things slowly
looks good without makeup
doesn't worry that it might not have anything to say right now
looks you in the eye during the awkward, difficult silences
is quietly hopeful
does not love with an agenda or selfish desires
breaks down and builds up
keeps even the hardest moments in perspective
lives and dies
wins
knows where the lines are but is not defined by them
is ok when feelings cant be put into words
shows we are lovable
risks
hardly thinks of itself
helps, at times to forget about our problems
and makes other problems beautiful
is not afraid to ask questions
and is not scared of not getting an answer right away
Monday, May 18, 2009
Sheena
So Sheena has been encouraging me to write about me and my own thoughts instead of just always quoting from books. While I agree with her, it is definitely more difficult, for a lot of different reasons. So as an attempt to get there, I thought I'd begin that journey by quoting myself from my old journals
I like to re-read through my old journals every now and then, for a lot of different reasons. I thought I'd share my first mention of Sheena in a Matthew Dick journal- from the summer of confusion that was 2004:
"17/7
Why?
I am writing about what has been begging of me for what seems like an eternity, yet it has been, comparatively, for a moment.
A time when I have made a decision not to, I have. I am afraid to mention particulars- even here- and why? Even if someone where to read this...part of me wishes someone would, then I could talk to them...
It is consuming, everything has become secondary, everything but You- and that is why I have come to You now, when there seems to be no-one else.
I am feeling trapped- trapped by expectations- of mine and of others- by decisions I have made and possibly regret?
I don't even really know her, yet she is always in my thoughts, indirectly in my plans. A beauty with which I have never truly conversed, until now. a beauty within and without. I struggle to write of feelings, perhaps a first- afraid, of what, perhaps more relevant- of whom?
Help me here- I don't ask that you take this away, for I fear the knowledge, or lack thereof, of never knowing if she feels the same would be worse than the personal denial itself.
A loneliness has begun to show itself- has it been here the whole time- or is it presenting itself because of these new desires- new thoughts? Is this ridiculous? Perhaps this is the reason of the fear of someone else reading this- that what I have is an immature, storybook, unrealistic (unGodly?) love for someone?
Love, I wrote it! Yet I hardly know her- but never have I been engulfed with the thoughts (not even images) of one whom I know so little. I decided to write here to see where I ended, my thoughts would become somewhat clearer, even less numerous.
Is it becoming a sign from You to help me with the Affiliate decision- or will this just pass away like it did at Christmas- a large, large part, no, all my being, begs that it won't pass- and with more than my being I cry out that I will not be rejected- but for that to happen I would have to build more of a relationship- something hard to do without hurting people, especially amongst the mutterings, her past, raised eyebrows, envy, commitments made before my arrival, before I began to know her, set-ups, match making, obsessions with relationships to an extents where people will make sacrifices which would not normally be made. Are these barriers of You or of you?
I am ready to explode- this is totally illogical, unreasonable or is it?
Is this why you sent me this summer, or am I totally missing the plot- it's hard to HIYA here with my mind elsewhere.
I won't talk to the one closest to me here because I...well I don't know why- it seems she has plans for me and anything which doesn't fit into it, she doesn't want to know about it.
I have thought all day about her, spending next summer with her, yet not an impure thought and this realisation only occurs now as I write- just being with her, spending time, time...so precious, so often wasted, over-valued, under-valued?
When I'm down...
Is this the first time I have been completely honest with my pen? Yet I can't even write her name...?!"
I like to re-read through my old journals every now and then, for a lot of different reasons. I thought I'd share my first mention of Sheena in a Matthew Dick journal- from the summer of confusion that was 2004:
"17/7
Why?
I am writing about what has been begging of me for what seems like an eternity, yet it has been, comparatively, for a moment.
A time when I have made a decision not to, I have. I am afraid to mention particulars- even here- and why? Even if someone where to read this...part of me wishes someone would, then I could talk to them...
It is consuming, everything has become secondary, everything but You- and that is why I have come to You now, when there seems to be no-one else.
I am feeling trapped- trapped by expectations- of mine and of others- by decisions I have made and possibly regret?
I don't even really know her, yet she is always in my thoughts, indirectly in my plans. A beauty with which I have never truly conversed, until now. a beauty within and without. I struggle to write of feelings, perhaps a first- afraid, of what, perhaps more relevant- of whom?
Help me here- I don't ask that you take this away, for I fear the knowledge, or lack thereof, of never knowing if she feels the same would be worse than the personal denial itself.
A loneliness has begun to show itself- has it been here the whole time- or is it presenting itself because of these new desires- new thoughts? Is this ridiculous? Perhaps this is the reason of the fear of someone else reading this- that what I have is an immature, storybook, unrealistic (unGodly?) love for someone?
Love, I wrote it! Yet I hardly know her- but never have I been engulfed with the thoughts (not even images) of one whom I know so little. I decided to write here to see where I ended, my thoughts would become somewhat clearer, even less numerous.
Is it becoming a sign from You to help me with the Affiliate decision- or will this just pass away like it did at Christmas- a large, large part, no, all my being, begs that it won't pass- and with more than my being I cry out that I will not be rejected- but for that to happen I would have to build more of a relationship- something hard to do without hurting people, especially amongst the mutterings, her past, raised eyebrows, envy, commitments made before my arrival, before I began to know her, set-ups, match making, obsessions with relationships to an extents where people will make sacrifices which would not normally be made. Are these barriers of You or of you?
I am ready to explode- this is totally illogical, unreasonable or is it?
Is this why you sent me this summer, or am I totally missing the plot- it's hard to HIYA here with my mind elsewhere.
I won't talk to the one closest to me here because I...well I don't know why- it seems she has plans for me and anything which doesn't fit into it, she doesn't want to know about it.
I have thought all day about her, spending next summer with her, yet not an impure thought and this realisation only occurs now as I write- just being with her, spending time, time...so precious, so often wasted, over-valued, under-valued?
When I'm down...
Is this the first time I have been completely honest with my pen? Yet I can't even write her name...?!"
Tash
“So I went over much grass and many flowers and among all kinds of wholesome and delectable trees till lo! In a narrow place between two rocks there came to meet me a great Lion. The speed of him was like the ostrich, and his size was an elephant’s; his hair was like pure gold and the brightness of his eyes, like gold that is liquid in the furnace. He was more terrible than the Flaming Mountain of Lagour, and in beauty he surpassed all that is in the world, even as the rose in bloom surpasses the dust of the desert.
Then I fell at his feet and thought, Surely this is the hour of death, for the Lion (who is worthy of all honour) will know that I have served Tash all my days and not him. Nevertheless, it is better to see the Lion and die than to be Tisroc of the world and live and not to have seen him.
But the Glorious One bent down his golden head and touched my forehead with his tongue and said, Son, thou are welcome. But I said, Alas, Lord, I am no son of Thine but the servant of Tash. He answered, Child, all the service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service to me.
Then by reason of my great desire for wisdom and understanding, I overcame my fear and questioned the Glorious One and said, Lord, is it then true that thou and Tash are one? The Lion growled so that the earth shook (but his wrath was not against me) and said, It is false.
Not because he and I are one, but because we are opposites, I take to me the services which thou hast done to him, for I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him. Therefore if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath’s sake, it is by me that he has truly sworn, though he know it not, and it is I who reward him. And if any man do a cruelty in my name, then thought he says the name Aslan, it is Tash whom he serves and by Tash his deed is accepted.
Dost thou understand, Child? I said, Lord, thou knowest how much I understand. But I said also (for the truth constrained me), Yet I have been seeking Tash all my days. Beloved, said the Glorious One, unless thy desire had been for me thou shouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek."
Then I fell at his feet and thought, Surely this is the hour of death, for the Lion (who is worthy of all honour) will know that I have served Tash all my days and not him. Nevertheless, it is better to see the Lion and die than to be Tisroc of the world and live and not to have seen him.
But the Glorious One bent down his golden head and touched my forehead with his tongue and said, Son, thou are welcome. But I said, Alas, Lord, I am no son of Thine but the servant of Tash. He answered, Child, all the service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service to me.
Then by reason of my great desire for wisdom and understanding, I overcame my fear and questioned the Glorious One and said, Lord, is it then true that thou and Tash are one? The Lion growled so that the earth shook (but his wrath was not against me) and said, It is false.
Not because he and I are one, but because we are opposites, I take to me the services which thou hast done to him, for I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him. Therefore if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath’s sake, it is by me that he has truly sworn, though he know it not, and it is I who reward him. And if any man do a cruelty in my name, then thought he says the name Aslan, it is Tash whom he serves and by Tash his deed is accepted.
Dost thou understand, Child? I said, Lord, thou knowest how much I understand. But I said also (for the truth constrained me), Yet I have been seeking Tash all my days. Beloved, said the Glorious One, unless thy desire had been for me thou shouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek."
The Greatest Calling?
When you were born
Our hearts were so full of happiness
That there was no room in us
for words.
When you were growing
Our hearts were so full of care for you
That we spoke soothingly
And sometimes sharply,
Fearful for your safety,
But always- in the deepest places
of our hearts
We spoke lovingly.
Today, as we watch you
Moving forward with your friends
We marvel at all you have done
And become.
Our spirits sing praise to God
For the gift that is you.
And, though our hearts
Have stretched to love others,
yet, there is a place within us
That is yours, and only yours
Always.
For the light you have shone on us
For the life you have called us to,
For the special gift of God you are
now, and will ever be
Thank You
Our hearts were so full of happiness
That there was no room in us
for words.
When you were growing
Our hearts were so full of care for you
That we spoke soothingly
And sometimes sharply,
Fearful for your safety,
But always- in the deepest places
of our hearts
We spoke lovingly.
Today, as we watch you
Moving forward with your friends
We marvel at all you have done
And become.
Our spirits sing praise to God
For the gift that is you.
And, though our hearts
Have stretched to love others,
yet, there is a place within us
That is yours, and only yours
Always.
For the light you have shone on us
For the life you have called us to,
For the special gift of God you are
now, and will ever be
Thank You
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The First of the Misnamed Parables...the good samaritan
'I suppose I had best lay my cards face up right here. To me, the central figure in the parable is not the Samaritan. He is simply one of the three characters in the story who have the opportunity to display neighbourliness as Jesus defines it. The defining character- the one to whom the other three respond by being non-neighbour or neighbor- is the man who fell among thieves. The actual Christ-figure in the story, therefore is yet another loser, yet another down-and outer who, by just lying there in his lostness and proximity to death...is in fact the closest thing to Jesus in the parable.
That runs counter, of course, to the better part of two thousand years' worth of interpretation, but I shall insist on it. This parable, like so many of Jesus' most telling ones, has been egregiously misnamed. It is not primarily about the Samaritan but about the man on the ground (just as the Prodigal Son is not about a boy's sins but about his father's forgiveness, and just as the Laborers in the Vineyard is not about the workers but about the beneficent vineyard-owner)...
What I am most concerned to skewer at this point is precisely the theological mischief caused by the misnaming of this parable. Calling it the Good Samaritan inevitably sets up its hearers to take it as a story whose hero offers them a good example for imitation. I am, of course, aware of the fact that Jesus ends the parable precisely on the note of imitation: "You, too, go and do likewise." But the common, good-works interpretation of the imitation to which Jesus invites us all too easily gives the Gospel a fast shuffle. True enough, we are called to imitation. But imitation of what, exactly? Is it not the imitatio Christi, the following of Jesus? And is not that following of him far more than just a matter of doing kind acts? Is it not the following of him into the only mystery that can save the world, namely, his passion, death, and Resurrection? Is it not, tout court, the taking up of his cross?
Therefore, if you want to say that the parable of the Good Samaritan tells us to imitate the Samaritan in his sharing of the passion and near-death of the man who fell among thieves- if you want to read his selfless actions as so many ways in which he took the outcastness and lostness of the Christ-figure on the ground into his own outcast and losing life- then I will let you have imitation as one of the main themes of the parable. But please note that such an interpretations is not at all what people generally have in mind when the subjects of imitating the Good Samaritan is broached to them. What their minds instantly go to is something quite different, something that is utterly destructive of the notion of grace that works only by death and resurrection. Because what they imagine themselves called upon to imitate is not a mystery of lostness and death graspable only by left-handed faith; rather it is a mere plausibility- a sensible if slightly heroic career of successful care-giving based on the performances of right-handed good works.
What is wrong with that? Quite simply, it blows the Good News right out of the water. For if the world could have been saved by providing good examples to which we could respond with appropiately good works, it would have been saved an hour and twenty minutes after Moses came down from Mt. Sinai...
Jesus' whole parable, especially with its piling up of detail after detail of extreme, even irrational, behaviour on the part of the Samaritan, points not to the meritorious exercises of good will but to the sharing of the passion as the main thrust of the story. What is to be imitated in the Samaritan's action is not his moral uprightness in doing good deeds but his spiritual insight into the truly bizarre working of the mystery of redemption. The lawyer is told by Jesus, in effect, to stop trying to live and to be willing to die...'
That runs counter, of course, to the better part of two thousand years' worth of interpretation, but I shall insist on it. This parable, like so many of Jesus' most telling ones, has been egregiously misnamed. It is not primarily about the Samaritan but about the man on the ground (just as the Prodigal Son is not about a boy's sins but about his father's forgiveness, and just as the Laborers in the Vineyard is not about the workers but about the beneficent vineyard-owner)...
What I am most concerned to skewer at this point is precisely the theological mischief caused by the misnaming of this parable. Calling it the Good Samaritan inevitably sets up its hearers to take it as a story whose hero offers them a good example for imitation. I am, of course, aware of the fact that Jesus ends the parable precisely on the note of imitation: "You, too, go and do likewise." But the common, good-works interpretation of the imitation to which Jesus invites us all too easily gives the Gospel a fast shuffle. True enough, we are called to imitation. But imitation of what, exactly? Is it not the imitatio Christi, the following of Jesus? And is not that following of him far more than just a matter of doing kind acts? Is it not the following of him into the only mystery that can save the world, namely, his passion, death, and Resurrection? Is it not, tout court, the taking up of his cross?
Therefore, if you want to say that the parable of the Good Samaritan tells us to imitate the Samaritan in his sharing of the passion and near-death of the man who fell among thieves- if you want to read his selfless actions as so many ways in which he took the outcastness and lostness of the Christ-figure on the ground into his own outcast and losing life- then I will let you have imitation as one of the main themes of the parable. But please note that such an interpretations is not at all what people generally have in mind when the subjects of imitating the Good Samaritan is broached to them. What their minds instantly go to is something quite different, something that is utterly destructive of the notion of grace that works only by death and resurrection. Because what they imagine themselves called upon to imitate is not a mystery of lostness and death graspable only by left-handed faith; rather it is a mere plausibility- a sensible if slightly heroic career of successful care-giving based on the performances of right-handed good works.
What is wrong with that? Quite simply, it blows the Good News right out of the water. For if the world could have been saved by providing good examples to which we could respond with appropiately good works, it would have been saved an hour and twenty minutes after Moses came down from Mt. Sinai...
Jesus' whole parable, especially with its piling up of detail after detail of extreme, even irrational, behaviour on the part of the Samaritan, points not to the meritorious exercises of good will but to the sharing of the passion as the main thrust of the story. What is to be imitated in the Samaritan's action is not his moral uprightness in doing good deeds but his spiritual insight into the truly bizarre working of the mystery of redemption. The lawyer is told by Jesus, in effect, to stop trying to live and to be willing to die...'
Friday, May 1, 2009
Inspiration and it's Critics
During my studies at undergrad, I always struggled with such topics as 'The Search for the Historical Jesus' or some of the Jesus Seminar stuff.
For those of us who are quite unfamiliar, according to Wiki,
While I try to have a trampoline understanding of God rather than a wall (see Rob Bell), I feel that the inspiration of Scripture is a Truth I hold onto which I am not yet willing to really deconstruct or question seriously. For now, a bit like the trinity, not only am I quite content to trust those before me who have articulated such doctrine, but more importantly, I really don't worry about it all too much because for me, my relationship with God is more personal and experiential than it is logical or reasonable.
However, I was reminded of my Jesus Seminar frustrations when I agreed with Capon,
'As far as I am concerned, the Jesus of the Gospels is the only available Jesus there is and it is idle to postulate any other, no matter how likely such a Jesus may seem on the grounds of form criticism or historical surmise. For my money, it was over the literary presentation of this Jesus of the Gospels that the Holy Spirit brooded when inspiring the Scriptures; the same cannot be said for subsequent literary efforts on Jesus' behalf. If the presentation we accept by trusting biblical inspiration is in error, then not only are we stuck with it; we will never even (on any basis "inspired" or "factual") be able to say exactly what it is in error about'
For those of us who are quite unfamiliar, according to Wiki,
The Jesus Seminar is a group of about 150 individuals, including scholars with advanced degrees in biblical studies, religious studies or related fields as well as published authors who are notable in the field of religion, founded in 1985 by the late Robert Funk and John Dominic Crossan under the auspices of the Westar Institute.[1] One of the most active groups in biblical criticism,[2] the seminar uses votes with colored beads to decide their collective view of the historicity of Jesus, specifically what he may or may not have said and done as a historical figure.[3] In addition, the seminar popularizes the quest for the historical Jesus. The public is welcome to attend the twice-yearly meetings. They produced new translations of the New Testament and apocrypha to use as textual sources.
The seminar's reconstruction of the historical Jesus portrays him as an itinerant Hellenistic Jewish sage who did not die as a substitute for sinners nor rise from the dead, but preached a "social gospel" in startling parables and aphorisms. An iconoclast, Jesus broke with established Jewish theological dogmas and social conventions both in his teachings and behaviors, often by turning common-sense ideas upside down, confounding the expectations of his audience: He preached of "Heaven's imperial rule" (traditionally translated as "Kingdom of God") as being already present but unseen; he depicts God as a loving father; he fraternizes with outsiders and criticizes insiders.
While my classes and teaching on all this may not have been as extreme as the description above, I always got bothered with what they were saying fundamentally about the Bible and about it's inspiration specifically.While I try to have a trampoline understanding of God rather than a wall (see Rob Bell), I feel that the inspiration of Scripture is a Truth I hold onto which I am not yet willing to really deconstruct or question seriously. For now, a bit like the trinity, not only am I quite content to trust those before me who have articulated such doctrine, but more importantly, I really don't worry about it all too much because for me, my relationship with God is more personal and experiential than it is logical or reasonable.
However, I was reminded of my Jesus Seminar frustrations when I agreed with Capon,
'As far as I am concerned, the Jesus of the Gospels is the only available Jesus there is and it is idle to postulate any other, no matter how likely such a Jesus may seem on the grounds of form criticism or historical surmise. For my money, it was over the literary presentation of this Jesus of the Gospels that the Holy Spirit brooded when inspiring the Scriptures; the same cannot be said for subsequent literary efforts on Jesus' behalf. If the presentation we accept by trusting biblical inspiration is in error, then not only are we stuck with it; we will never even (on any basis "inspired" or "factual") be able to say exactly what it is in error about'
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