Today I flew home. This will probably be my last Christmas in the house that I have known as home for more than 13 years. It was not a "homey" home - Florida architecture inhibits that, though my mother's excellent decorations make it more real. But it remains home. It's a place I could walk around blindfolded and still find my bed, the fridge, my books, the TV or the keyboard I am using now. My parents will move to be closer to the church they started. My youngest sister will be in college next year. Some other family will make memories here.
However, our Christmas tree will remain home, wherever we place it. Sure, it's not a live tree. But there is an ornament on every branch. The best part is, very few of them actually match each other. My mom started a tradition when I was born. She gives each of us a new Christmas ornament each year. They always had something to do with our personalities and interests, or events that occurred the previous year. 4 children and 26 years later, there's barely room for a popcorn chain. It's a mess. And it's beautiful.
You can keep your hotel Christmas trees. I understand some people really get excited making handsome, matching Tannenbaums to celebrate the season. Whatever floats your boat. I'll keep our family tree. Disorganized, inclusive, messy, beautiful.
I wonder if heaven will be similar. It will no doubt be beautiful, with beauty flowing out from the sun and the lamp which are God Himself. Yet every tongue, tribe and nation will be there. New bodies, new hearts, without sin, without ambition or competition. It will be crowded with a colorful influx of divine humanity Jesus once demonstrated. We may not match, but we will sing together, facing the Lord, our eternal light.
I'll stop myself before I overdo the analogy. My Christmas tree makes me feel at home. It also makes me long for Home.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
A Christmas Poem
I am still in the Christmas spirit. As I write, I am listening to my favorite Christmas Album, "A Charlie Brown Christmas" by the Vince Guaraldi Trio. Somehow a boys' choir combined with beautiful un-intrusive jazz music seem to me the best way to put an American Christmas to music. It seems to accompany all the emotions of Christmas. Joy to the world, spiked with melancholy, as if the Christ-child knew the violence that awaited him.
Anyway, I am also still in the spirit of sharing other people's writing. I am reading "A Severe Mercy" by Sheldon Vanauken. I have mixed feelings about the book - I'll sort those out when I'm done reading it. However, I thought this sonnet he wrote about the Virgin Mary was appropriate for the season.
"The Heart of Mary" by Sheldon Vanauken
Dear sister, I was human not divine
the angel left me woman as before
And when, like flame beneath my heart, I bore
The Son, I was the vestal and the shrine
My arms held heaven at my breast--not wine
But milk made blood, in which no mothering doubt
Prefigured patterns of pouring out
O Lamb! to stain the word incarnadine
The Magi saw a crown that lay ahead
But not the bitter glory of the reign
They called him King and knelt among the kine
I pondered in my heart what they had said
Yet I could not see the bloody cup of pain
I was but woman--though my God was mine
Anyway, I am also still in the spirit of sharing other people's writing. I am reading "A Severe Mercy" by Sheldon Vanauken. I have mixed feelings about the book - I'll sort those out when I'm done reading it. However, I thought this sonnet he wrote about the Virgin Mary was appropriate for the season.
"The Heart of Mary" by Sheldon Vanauken
Dear sister, I was human not divine
the angel left me woman as before
And when, like flame beneath my heart, I bore
The Son, I was the vestal and the shrine
My arms held heaven at my breast--not wine
But milk made blood, in which no mothering doubt
Prefigured patterns of pouring out
O Lamb! to stain the word incarnadine
The Magi saw a crown that lay ahead
But not the bitter glory of the reign
They called him King and knelt among the kine
I pondered in my heart what they had said
Yet I could not see the bloody cup of pain
I was but woman--though my God was mine
NT Wright's thoughts on the Incarnation, Christmas
Being myself in the Christmas spirit, I wanted to write some thoughts on the incarnation. However, today I read NT Wright's thoughts, and they were both more astounding and edifying than anything I could write. That does not mean I still won't write anything. That does mean there are higher theologians and thinkers out there, and Advent may be a time to reflect with them. Check NT out at http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/decemberweb-only/151-42.0.html, and go tell your friends.
Merry Christmas to all!
Merry Christmas to all!
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Blood Diamond thoughts
I saw an excellent movie today. I really did not expect much. I've found many epics involving Leonardo DiCaprio long and dull (see "Gangs of New York"). "Blood Diamond" is fantastic. It was a long film that did not seem long. DiCaprio himself was fantastic (I never thought I'd say that, either).
As most of you know, it's about the war diamond trade. It is filled with disturbing images of violence done by the RUF. One of the major characters is a child who is kidnapped and brain-washed into a soldier. He shoots his first prisoner blind-folded.
I have an image about Africa that my friends who have been there are welcome to correct. In "Screwtape Proposes a Toast,"s written in the early 60s CS Lewis complains that though England (and the West in general) had become peaceful after two World Wars, society in general was becoming mediocre. Hell could feast luke-warm souls. In contrast, these war-torn parts of Africa has brought about some terrible people. The RUF fighters in the movie reminded me of that. Yet, for some reason, some of the most admirable present-day warriors for Christianity are Africans. I think of my friend Haswell, an African missionary in Italy who has never failed to encourage me. I think of my own church. We are part of the Rwandan Mission to America. Of course, the first thing I think of when I think of Rwanda is genocide. I was wondering if I would have to explain myself somehow whenever I would tell people about my church. A church of peace - and the first thought is genocide. I'm sensitive about any war-like images associated with the church.
My pastor told me the story of our church. The Anglican Mission movement in Rwanda was birthed after the genocide, when Rwandan pastors with the help of Prison Fellowship brought the ministry of reconciliation to both survivors and perpetrators. This led to revival. This led to a church mission which spilled into America, where I worship now.
Maybe when it's most obvious that we live in a fallen world is it most obvious who lives for Christ and who doesn't. Is that comfort for the suffering? I have no idea. Maybe it will be. We wish God would stop things. His way is often to redeem things. He's very committed to redemption. He died for it. And when it happens, some of us coming out looking more like him. That's certainly true for a lot of Africans I've met.
As most of you know, it's about the war diamond trade. It is filled with disturbing images of violence done by the RUF. One of the major characters is a child who is kidnapped and brain-washed into a soldier. He shoots his first prisoner blind-folded.
I have an image about Africa that my friends who have been there are welcome to correct. In "Screwtape Proposes a Toast,"s written in the early 60s CS Lewis complains that though England (and the West in general) had become peaceful after two World Wars, society in general was becoming mediocre. Hell could feast luke-warm souls. In contrast, these war-torn parts of Africa has brought about some terrible people. The RUF fighters in the movie reminded me of that. Yet, for some reason, some of the most admirable present-day warriors for Christianity are Africans. I think of my friend Haswell, an African missionary in Italy who has never failed to encourage me. I think of my own church. We are part of the Rwandan Mission to America. Of course, the first thing I think of when I think of Rwanda is genocide. I was wondering if I would have to explain myself somehow whenever I would tell people about my church. A church of peace - and the first thought is genocide. I'm sensitive about any war-like images associated with the church.
My pastor told me the story of our church. The Anglican Mission movement in Rwanda was birthed after the genocide, when Rwandan pastors with the help of Prison Fellowship brought the ministry of reconciliation to both survivors and perpetrators. This led to revival. This led to a church mission which spilled into America, where I worship now.
Maybe when it's most obvious that we live in a fallen world is it most obvious who lives for Christ and who doesn't. Is that comfort for the suffering? I have no idea. Maybe it will be. We wish God would stop things. His way is often to redeem things. He's very committed to redemption. He died for it. And when it happens, some of us coming out looking more like him. That's certainly true for a lot of Africans I've met.
You'd really like this song
Something funny, but typical, happened today when I was meandering home from Metro station. I had just watched an excellent movie, and it inspired me to write a song. Let me tell you, it was an exceptional song. It had a groovin' African beat with all sorts of percussion instruments. It had a sweet acoustic guitar part that I probably would not have been able to actually play. It had beautiful words with a personal and political message.
I began to imagine myself singing it with a sweet, masculine honey/whisky voice (hey, a guy can dream, can't he?). I then began to imagine myself as an awesome, jazzy guitarist performing this song in a crowded, smokey night-club, where people in interesting clothes drank red wine, bourbon-cokes and dark, exotic beer. They all smoked Lucky-Strike cigarettes and listened to me with a purposefully un-revealed interest. My fantasy included a band filled with all my musical friends. We were tight, jazzy and innovative. The performance turned into a concert, for charity, of course. I began to imagine other songs, some of my own and a lot of my friends' song. I didn't have to be the star. Of course.
By this time, Albert's house (where I rent a room and living space with some great guys) was in view. Of course, my song was completely forgotten. It honestly might have been good, though I'd need to practice a lot more to pull the guitar part I had imagined.
I wonder if a real artist has to have a bit of humbleness, the kind you'd read about in the book of Proverbs. It takes this humbleness to focus on and appreciate the concept itself, not imagining yourself presenting it for praise and accolades, to recognize a piece of self-expression as a beautiful something that reflects a trait of our Creator, namely the ability create. Pride really does cometh before the fall.
I began to imagine myself singing it with a sweet, masculine honey/whisky voice (hey, a guy can dream, can't he?). I then began to imagine myself as an awesome, jazzy guitarist performing this song in a crowded, smokey night-club, where people in interesting clothes drank red wine, bourbon-cokes and dark, exotic beer. They all smoked Lucky-Strike cigarettes and listened to me with a purposefully un-revealed interest. My fantasy included a band filled with all my musical friends. We were tight, jazzy and innovative. The performance turned into a concert, for charity, of course. I began to imagine other songs, some of my own and a lot of my friends' song. I didn't have to be the star. Of course.
By this time, Albert's house (where I rent a room and living space with some great guys) was in view. Of course, my song was completely forgotten. It honestly might have been good, though I'd need to practice a lot more to pull the guitar part I had imagined.
I wonder if a real artist has to have a bit of humbleness, the kind you'd read about in the book of Proverbs. It takes this humbleness to focus on and appreciate the concept itself, not imagining yourself presenting it for praise and accolades, to recognize a piece of self-expression as a beautiful something that reflects a trait of our Creator, namely the ability create. Pride really does cometh before the fall.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Church Service a la Carte
Yesterday Dani sent me a link to all the different worship services at Saddleback church (Rick Warren's church in California). Here it is: http://www.saddlebackfamily.com/home/todaystory.asp?id=5700
church service a la carte she called it. Whatever church service to fit your mood, style and demographic (My moods change so frequently that I'd probably go to a different one each week). I'm certainly curious about the Luau themed service.
On the one hand, I love the spirit of the church striving to meet people where they are at. It shows how multi-faceted a church can be, and you can imagine the gifts and talents being used to serve the Lord here. In some ways, it must be quite beautiful. But I also feel this misses something. Before I go on, let me say that I don't want to join the ranks of the anti-_____ church crusaders. I've met people who were very much anti-mega church or anti-traditional church or anti-charismatic church or anti-large church or anti-big church or anti-country church or anti-seeker friendly church. If the good folks at Saddleback Church are serving the Lord with their whole hearts, I applaud them, just as I applaud the smaller, more traditional church I am attending. It's the following of Jesus that counts.
What I would miss at a church like this is the to serve the Lord with all sorts of different people. There's something very beautiful when all the demographics come together in the name of the Lord Jesus. It's also inconvenient. It means that some of us have to deal with styles of worship we don't like, people who make us feel less comfortable, differing political persuasions and skin colors. Church may not always be convenient to my specific emotional or stylistic needs. Yet in these disciplines, rituals, creeds, songs, sermons and sacraments, even on days when I want to move on to Sunday lunch, I develop a discipline that makes me a better person. It helps me, later on that week, to bear with less convenient people. Sometimes the church is God's sneaky tool to help me love others.
Of course, I'm not advocating choosing a church as a masacist would. Even as I write this, I reflect that my own church is meeting my specific needs, and for that matter, the majority of people fit my own demographic (young DC professionals who enjoy foreign beer). It's just that the habit of changing church services every time I change moods is not something I wish to promote in myself.
church service a la carte she called it. Whatever church service to fit your mood, style and demographic (My moods change so frequently that I'd probably go to a different one each week). I'm certainly curious about the Luau themed service.
On the one hand, I love the spirit of the church striving to meet people where they are at. It shows how multi-faceted a church can be, and you can imagine the gifts and talents being used to serve the Lord here. In some ways, it must be quite beautiful. But I also feel this misses something. Before I go on, let me say that I don't want to join the ranks of the anti-_____ church crusaders. I've met people who were very much anti-mega church or anti-traditional church or anti-charismatic church or anti-large church or anti-big church or anti-country church or anti-seeker friendly church. If the good folks at Saddleback Church are serving the Lord with their whole hearts, I applaud them, just as I applaud the smaller, more traditional church I am attending. It's the following of Jesus that counts.
What I would miss at a church like this is the to serve the Lord with all sorts of different people. There's something very beautiful when all the demographics come together in the name of the Lord Jesus. It's also inconvenient. It means that some of us have to deal with styles of worship we don't like, people who make us feel less comfortable, differing political persuasions and skin colors. Church may not always be convenient to my specific emotional or stylistic needs. Yet in these disciplines, rituals, creeds, songs, sermons and sacraments, even on days when I want to move on to Sunday lunch, I develop a discipline that makes me a better person. It helps me, later on that week, to bear with less convenient people. Sometimes the church is God's sneaky tool to help me love others.
Of course, I'm not advocating choosing a church as a masacist would. Even as I write this, I reflect that my own church is meeting my specific needs, and for that matter, the majority of people fit my own demographic (young DC professionals who enjoy foreign beer). It's just that the habit of changing church services every time I change moods is not something I wish to promote in myself.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Removing all doubt
This is actually my second attempt at blogging, though I have to admit, my first attempt was... quite lame. A friend of mine encouraged me to get a blog, I set it up, and promptly ignored it for the past few months.
A big part of this was laziness. I mean, there are better ways to use the Internet, like reading German newspapers or watching soccer highlights or listening to random MySpace music (shameless plug: check out my friend Ben's band, the Northernness at www.thenorthernness.com). Sometimes I feel like I have an SUV of a brain, burning intense mental energy and then needing all night to recharge. I could be reading, watching TV, phoning a friend. Heck, now that I am in a metropolitan area surrounded by thousands of like-minded young people, my social life is really starting to take off. I could be tasting foreign beer in a pub discussing exotic cultures with peace corp graduates, re-nationalized missionaries and State Department bureaucrats.
However, I had better reasons for procrastinating. The Internet is democracy unveiled in all its naked glory. Everybody gets to say what is on there mind, which is a power we don't use very well. I remember being excited about a website forum sponsored by a Christian magazine. I thought it would be a chance for edifying discussion with a world-wide community of faith. I was disappointed when I read most of the posts. Many of them were very angry, and (I thought) unnecessarily so. Some of them were bad attempts of sophomoric humor. Not the intellectual Christian forum I had hoped for.
What struck me about most of the posts was how familiar they were. Poisonous cynical comments, crude jokes, unnecessary anger - all of them had been in my mind, have, in my (dare I say) most authentic times, leaped from my tongue and have found their ways my own pen and keyboards. Sensible expression, praise, humor and criticism are art forms I am barely learning. I guess I had thought, to butcher a famous quote, better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to start a blog and removing all doubt.
The lure and fear of blogging is exposure. I want friends and strangers to know me, to know the thoughts and opinions I am not always able to give orally. However, I am also afraid they will know poor writing skills, bad spelling and grammar. I am more afraid they will know opinions and words they may be hurtful, offensive and best left unsaid.
So why have I started a blog? Well, when enough people at the same time encourage me to do something I have secretly wanted to do, it is likely I will do it. Several people within a weeks time encouraged me to write a blog. And heck, I like to write, and I could use the practice.
Yet there is a deeper reason too. My mind works like a swarm of bees. It is healthy for me, mentally and spiritually, to focus my thoughts on something. A blog will give me a forum to express myself spiritually in a controlled way. The fact that others may actually read this will curve the raw and disorganized emotion my journals have to suffer (though has its time and purpose).
I hope in a small way I can worship with this blog. I hope I can sort my thoughts about the world around so I better understand how Jesus has been good to me. I cannot escape the Christian notions of Agape and sovereignty. I hope this helps me record it, examine it and know it.
So here is my blog, written pieces of who I am, being somewhat self-indulgent, and, of course, removing all doubt.
A big part of this was laziness. I mean, there are better ways to use the Internet, like reading German newspapers or watching soccer highlights or listening to random MySpace music (shameless plug: check out my friend Ben's band, the Northernness at www.thenorthernness.com). Sometimes I feel like I have an SUV of a brain, burning intense mental energy and then needing all night to recharge. I could be reading, watching TV, phoning a friend. Heck, now that I am in a metropolitan area surrounded by thousands of like-minded young people, my social life is really starting to take off. I could be tasting foreign beer in a pub discussing exotic cultures with peace corp graduates, re-nationalized missionaries and State Department bureaucrats.
However, I had better reasons for procrastinating. The Internet is democracy unveiled in all its naked glory. Everybody gets to say what is on there mind, which is a power we don't use very well. I remember being excited about a website forum sponsored by a Christian magazine. I thought it would be a chance for edifying discussion with a world-wide community of faith. I was disappointed when I read most of the posts. Many of them were very angry, and (I thought) unnecessarily so. Some of them were bad attempts of sophomoric humor. Not the intellectual Christian forum I had hoped for.
What struck me about most of the posts was how familiar they were. Poisonous cynical comments, crude jokes, unnecessary anger - all of them had been in my mind, have, in my (dare I say) most authentic times, leaped from my tongue and have found their ways my own pen and keyboards. Sensible expression, praise, humor and criticism are art forms I am barely learning. I guess I had thought, to butcher a famous quote, better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to start a blog and removing all doubt.
The lure and fear of blogging is exposure. I want friends and strangers to know me, to know the thoughts and opinions I am not always able to give orally. However, I am also afraid they will know poor writing skills, bad spelling and grammar. I am more afraid they will know opinions and words they may be hurtful, offensive and best left unsaid.
So why have I started a blog? Well, when enough people at the same time encourage me to do something I have secretly wanted to do, it is likely I will do it. Several people within a weeks time encouraged me to write a blog. And heck, I like to write, and I could use the practice.
Yet there is a deeper reason too. My mind works like a swarm of bees. It is healthy for me, mentally and spiritually, to focus my thoughts on something. A blog will give me a forum to express myself spiritually in a controlled way. The fact that others may actually read this will curve the raw and disorganized emotion my journals have to suffer (though has its time and purpose).
I hope in a small way I can worship with this blog. I hope I can sort my thoughts about the world around so I better understand how Jesus has been good to me. I cannot escape the Christian notions of Agape and sovereignty. I hope this helps me record it, examine it and know it.
So here is my blog, written pieces of who I am, being somewhat self-indulgent, and, of course, removing all doubt.
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