Unexpected – likeliest of places
Your brother and I were soul-bound since
before your inception. Brothers, not by blood—
though we tried. How many years, now,
has he been away?
His sister---made you my sister. We heckled and
tormented, but our love for you was fixed.
You were a young girl when I went away.
A brief conversation
an embrace
no words
love.
Petite, though she is—
I find myself enveloped —overwhelmed.
minor in her arms
I’m unassailable
(Such ardor!)
but
now
She
dissolves in my arms.
My God— what millstones are these?
that cripple—that bend to break
the shoulders of spirit.
So vulnerable!
Has life claimed you so early?
Has that bastard Desire laid waste? No, something—
Has good love gone stale? No—
The once familiar, that is lost now—
—goodbye now. Take care.
I can’t help but think—
She was calling out— brother!
Calling out to the familiar.
And I forgot how to
speak;
sister.
One version of how the Beatitudes were written, as read in Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal by Christopher Moore:
Like any great speech, the Sermon on the Mount sounds as if it just happened spontaneously, but actually Joshua [Jesus] and I [Biff] worked on it for over a week-- Joshua dictating and me taking notes on parchment. [...]
"How we doing on the Beatitudes?" [-Joshua]
"Pardon me?" [-Biff]
"The blesseds."
"We've got: Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; blessed are the poor in spirit, the pure in heart, the whiners, the meek, the --"
"Wait, what are we giving the meek?"
"Let' see, uh, here: Blessed are the meek, for to them we shall say, 'attaboy.'"
"A little weak."
"Yeah."
"Let's let the meek inherit the earth."
"Can't you give the earth to the whiners?"
"Well then, cut the whiners and give the earth to the meek."
"Okay, Earth to the meek. Here we go. Blessed are the peacemakers, the mourners, and that's it."
"How many is that?"
"Seven."
"Not enough. We need one more. How about the dumbf***ks?"
"No, Josh, not the dumbf***ks. You've done enough for the dumbf***ks. Nathaniel, Thomas--"
"Blessed are the dumbf***ks for they, uh--I don't know-- they shall never be disappointed."
"No, I'm drawing the line at dumbf***ks. Come on, Josh, why can't we have any powerful guys on our team? Why do we have to have the meek, and the poor, the oppressed, and the pissed on? Why can't we, for once, have blessed are the big powerful rich guys with swords?"
"Because they don't need us."
"Okay, but no 'Blessed are the dumbf***ks.'"
"Who then?"
"Sluts?"
"No."
"How about the wankers? I can think of five or six disciplies that would be really blessed."
"No wankers. I've got it: Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake."
"Okay, better. What are you going to give them?"
"A fruit basket."
"You can't give the meek the whole earth and these guys a fruit basket."
"Give them the kingdom of heaven."
"The poor in spirit got that."
"Everybody gets some."
"Okay, then, 'share the Kingdom of Heaven.'" I wrote it down.
"We could give the fruit basket to the dumbf***ks."
"NO DUMBF***KS!"
"Sorry, I just feel for them."
"You feel for everyone, Josh. It's your job."
"Oh yeah. I forgot."
I got a new cd this week and have fallen in love with Regina Spektor all over again. In particular, I love the song Laughing With (even if it does have a dangling preposition). Listen to the song and read the lyrics and tell me what you think. Here are the lyrics (with some of the repetition removed):
No one laughs at God in a hospital;
No one laughs at God in a war.
No one's laughing at God when they're starving or freezing
or so very poor.
No one laughs at God when the doctor calls after some routine tests;
No one's laughing at God when it's gotten real late,
and their kid's not back from that party yet.
No one laughs at God when their airplane starts to
uncontrollably shake;
No one's laughing at God when they see the one they love hand in hand with someone else, and they hope that they're mistaken.
No one laughs at God when the cops knock on their door,
and they say "We've got some bad new, sir."
No one's laughing at God when there's a famine, fire, or flood.
But God can be funny
At a cocktail party while listening to a good God-themed joke or
Or when the crazies say he hates us and they get so red in the head you think that they're about to choke.
God can be funny
When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way,
And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini,
Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus.
God can be so hilarious -- Ha ha Ha ha
No one laughs at God in a hospital;
No one laughs at God in a war.
No one's laughing at God when they've lost all they got,
and they don't know what for.
No one laughs at God on the day they realize that the last sight they'll ever see is a pair of hateful eyes.
No one's laughing at God when they're saying their goodbyes.
No one's laughing at God;
We're all laughing with God.
I've listened to this song quite a few times and I'm still trying to figure out what it means. One thing that stands out to me is that it's true -- there are all these times when no one's laughing. I read the news everyday and there are a lot of times I'm almost in tears at the pain in the world. It's at those times when people think about God the most probably, and they're definitely not laughing. But it's good to have the reminder that there are times when God is funny, and some of the funniest times are when He's portrayed in such an awful way - you can't help but laugh at God and people and crazy ideas.
One thing I don't get though is the last line. "We're all laughing with God." What does that mean? I'm still thinking on that one. This song has just been dancing around in my head, playing the perfect background part to reading the news and working in a school setting and just living life. How does it fit in with your world?
I've been taking more pictures this summer. As a relatively uncreative photographer (I'm working on that), I generally take pictures of things that are already pretty. My challenge of this summer, however, has been finding the "pretty" in the ugly. I've taken many pictures of roses, hibiscus, and other garden flowers, but they're becoming kind of boring to me. I appreciate the ugly weeds more than the perfect flowers. It is another thing in life that comforts me. Not those perfect but sensitive roses with their symmetry and beautiful scent, but those crazy weeds on the side of the road that continue to grow despite the dust and weather -- that's what is an amazing creation of God. Though none of my pictures are of the classic yellow dandelion weed, they always remind me of the old Five Iron Frenzy song, titled after the pesky little flower. Here are a few of my ugly weeds (click on them to enlarge):
Hello, all!
Brian Welter here. I'm a fairly recent addition to this little blog family and thought I'd introduce myself to anyone who might be interested. So consider this the trumpet blast to announce my arrival, as it were!
Well, we've already got my name covered. Because I'm a huge Transformers nut, I shall record the remainder of my information as it might appear for the stats card on the back of an action figure.
Brian J. (the J stands for Jehoshephat) Welter
Affiliation: Jesus
Status: Single (and at the moment, still trying really hard to make peace with that fact)
Function: Artist; Writer (hopefully soon to be published!); LEGO/musical/book/anime/history/gaming/movie Enthusiast; English Teacher (starting this fall!); Tamer of the Eldritch Engergies of Tomulkandra & Lore Master of the Lincoln Chapter of the Guild of High Assassins (this last part is fictional, though I wish it were true)
Strengths: Bass voice & drawing ability
Weaknesses: Basically remembering anything not made up, such as addresses, people's names, dates/times of important engagements, etc.
Allies: My friends and family!
Enemies: People who insist on acting like poop heads for no apparent reason, and people who talk at the theater
Ambition: To be more like Christ, and to have an epic adventure of the sort one reads about but rarely experiences
Quote: "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings!" --Optimus Prime
Well, I'd say that just about covers it! I hope I can dredge up some good things to say on here from the cavernous recesses of my noggin. Take care, all!
-B
So I said I would post again and here I am. 10 days later, but this time, something hit me. I was studying for a sermon I was preaching about Genesis 3: The Fall of Man. In the commentary I was reading the author made a very interesting point, which I had never considered before. If you read the story carefully you notice that God is prohibiting the eating of the fruit. Not the gaining of knowledge. God wants to keep Adam and Eve from eating of the tree in order to gain knowledge of good and evil. Wisdom isn't being shunned. Neither is knowledge.
I think we can safely assume that over the course of their lives Adam and Eve would have grown in knowledge about the world around them. They would have recognized the serpent as evil or twisted. They eventually would have gained some sort of knowledge and wisdom as they grew and walked with God. I can't believe that they would have stayed in a perpetually juvenile state of mind.
So, that makes the issue not about the gain of knowledge and wisdom but rather about the means of that gain of knowledge and wisdom.
I mentioned in my last post about the relationship between religion and science. I think this lesson from the story of the fall posits a good warning to us as innovators and researches always in the pursuit of more. We don't know what we are wanting more of, just more.
We must be careful of our scientific pursuits. We should be wary of progress just for the sake of progress. Why? Because we have shown in the past that we have a habit of discovering and using the more destructive elements of our discoveries as opposed to the healing and restorative aspects. We used the nuclear bomb before turned it into nuclear power. We used powder to create guns instead of vehicles. The founder of the Nobel Peace Prize turned nitro-glycerin into dynamite to save the lives of miners but it was quickly perverted to fabricate bombs and continues to further terrorist agendas even unto this day.
We must be careful in our scientific endeavors because we have shown that we are terminally short-sighted. We lack the forethought necessary to determine the ramifications of our actions in the scientific realm. Progress is great. Progress is necessary. Just not at the cost of lives. Scientific progress should help us save lives and open minds. We should be preventing wars and casualties instead of causing them and increasing the body count.
Now Sondra raised an important question in a comment on my last post. What about the medical advances that are allowing us to live longer and longer lives? What would a world look like with 6 and half, almost 7 billion people who are all going to live the age of 90, 100, or longer. What does that do to the world? Can the earth sustain that? That's a question I don't have an answer to. I think this just goes to show that even the good things, the seemingly harmless things can have unintended negative consequences. Like I said, we lack the foresight to ever fully comprehend the scope of the consequences of our actions.
So what exactly am I saying in all of this? I am saying that our scientific endeavors and pursuits should be coupled with religious and moral guidance. The two communities should be joining together to make a better world instead of fighting over how it was created. Knowledge and wisdom, whether of the world or spirit, are not to be scorned or scoffed at. It is not the knowledge and wisdom that are the problem, it is how that knowledge and wisdom are gained. We must ask ourselves, at what cost does this come? Because sometimes the cost is simply too great.
This 4th of July was spent at a new location for me, and I had an interesting experience while there. I wanted to share my story with you.
A carnival lit up the town of Vincennes, as we drove through the streets of the old downtown area. There were rides running, food smells wafting through the car, a Kiss impersonator drawing crowds, and families covering the area. We found a parking spot on a side street and walked along the road, taking it all in. Unfortunately the Kiss impersonator was gone before we could get there and was replaced by a less entertaining band. We stood and watched until we moved to our destination spot: a seat for the fireworks. The display would be fired from a barge on the Wabash River, so we chose a seat on the east-west bridge. The wall space was filling up, but we found a pretty large gap on the north side of the bridge, giving us a perfect view to the south for the fireworks. We leaned against the wall and spent the next half hour, as we waited for nightfall, watching people. Lots of people. People in cars, people walking in the road (brave people, who ignored traffic). People in large groups, people by themselves. People desperate to find their group, and those that were too cool to look desperate. Girls finding all their guy friends to give big hugs; guys finding their guy friends to talk to while on the side showing off for or flirting with the girls walking by. Young mothers with too many children who had had way too much sugar. Older people who seemed a little unsure about being out that late. Teenagers glad to see their school friends, Children glad to be out so late. People, people, people.
The large gap in our wall space began to get smaller and smaller. First a group of boys on the right, then a boyfriend and girlfriend between us and the boys. On the left came a mixed group of teenagers, then a young mother, young daughter, and mother's friend squeezed between our groups. This was the set that came to be the most noticeable. Though there were junior highers running back and forth and yelling in fun at each other on the other side of the bridge, they weren't as eye-catching as the group to the left. I didn't pay too much attention to them until the fireworks started, however.
The warning firework went off and everyone settled in their spots. Vincennes used their loudest fireworks to set the stage for their display. Being on the bridge and so close to the barge, I could feel the bass of those explosions in my chest. After the first set, the little girl next to us said, "All done! Go home now!" Her mother assured her that there were more. Her mother's friend began talking to an older man about the quality of the Vincennes fireworks over the years. She talked loudly and coarsely. I saw her out of the corner of my eye and froze in shock for a moment. She was wearing tight blue jeans (way too tight for a woman that far past her youth) and... I guess you would call it a shirt. I felt so old fashioned to think it, but it looked like she was wearing a bandana with strings tied around her. Only I'm pretty sure it was smaller than a bandana, and the strings at the bottom were not tied particularly tight. The bottom corner flapped in the wind on top of her pooching stomach and her breasts wobbled unnaturally under such little material as she ran around, first on the sidewalk, then on the road. The man was clearly an old friend, whom she had shared many drinks with in the past. He listened without too many words as she recounted being blacked out drunk at other fireworks displays. She used about every curse word you can think of, loudly. She used curse words the same as John uses ketchup. Often and in large quantities, and inevitably always ending up with about the same flavor of conversation. When a good firework set would go off, she'd yell, "F**** yeah!" repeatedly and run to the south side of the bridge to get a better look. My group began to exchange grumbles about this lady and her lack of variation in her vocabulary, but mostly we just tried to ignore it.
Personally, I was just annoyed. Annoyed at this inappropriate display on all accounts, annoyed that my firework display was getting disrupted, annoyed that we were stuck being so close to people I didn't know and immediately didn't like. Then the little voice came back. "All done! Go home now!" Another pause in the fireworks, and the little girl, still delightfully giddy about the colors and the sounds, was so content with one simple firework, she was so sure it had to be over after each one. My annoyance turned to pity and disgust. Why was the little girl stuck with such a horrendous woman? Clearly the mother and friend were related or very close that any chance of this girl ever not having this woman in her life was slim to none. What was the chance that she would not grow up to be just like her? I caught a look at the little girl out of the corner of my eye. She was 4, maybe 5. Bobbed brown hair, stopping just past the chin of her cute little round face. She looked so pure, so innocent. An extreme contrast to the bandana-tied woman. I saw this girl and prayed, "God, please, somehow let her know that she is loved." A comment was made by someone next to me quietly wishing for child services to come and take that poor child away. I thought that as well. "God, please, give her a place to go that isn't like this." Her future looked so gloomy and desperate. No way she could rise above the epitome of white trash that she was born into. She would never believe that she was worth anything or could do anything she wanted, not with that alcoholic, drug-addicted whore of woman around her all the time.
The fireworks ended. I was tired, annoyed, and angry on behalf of that little girl. We walked past them, with the woman continuing her spouts of cursing. I started to think to myself, are seeing fireworks even worth seeing people? I subconsciously felt so high above this lady, so far above this white trash. I, who actually cared about the little girl next to her. I, who actually wore real clothes. I, who could speak without swearing every other word. It was so easy for me to care about the little girl, to love her and want everything good for her. But then it hit me, why shouldn't I love this woman? Why shouldn't I want good for her? I was so suddenly struck by my turn from righteous indignation to humility and shame for those exact same thoughts turned around, I had to take a moment. Had I really thought such horrible things about that woman? Caring about that little girl made me so spiteful for that woman that I forgot that she was a valid human being. She has feelings, imperfections, regrets, thoughts, insecurities, talents, potential, and the love of a great God, just like I do. I forgot all of that.
In our indignation on the treatment of an innocent, do we completely forget about the humanity of the guilty? Or when we ourselves are the "innocent," how off base with reality do we see our predator? What about when we look on a larger scale, at rebel groups in Nigeria, or at the nuclear weapon carriers from North Korea, or the self-serving government of Zimbabwe? Does anyone care about the humanity of those people? Or are they just another set of inappropriate, maladjusted, disgusting individuals only worth the time it takes for us to assess, judge, and despise? How easy it is to love the lovely and hate the unlovely. It unsettled me to think how easy it was for me to hate this woman and see it as righteous behavior. I can see that girl through God's eyes and look with compassion and love, but can I see that woman, in all her filth, in the same way? Can I show compassion even to the unworthy and guilty? Can you?
As most everybody knows, Harry Potter 6 is coming out this week. In preparation, ABC family was showing movie 1-4 this weekend on TV. Matt, Brian, and I watched most of them, mostly because there wasn’t much else to do, but partly because the movies are just so great. As we were watching movie 1, a familiar scene came on. It is the scene when Harry finds the Mirror of Erisad. When Dumbledore finds him and is explaining what the mirror does he says, “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest and most desperate desires of our hearts.” It reminded me of a conversation Matt and I had a few weeks ago. I asked him what he would see if he were to look in the mirror. This was not only a chance for great Harry Potter conversation, but also a chance to get to know what is the deepest desire of my husband’s heart (what wife wouldn’t want to know that, right?)
He responded that he didn’t know what the mirror would show him and asked me the same thing. I figured the answer would be easy to come by and I figured he was just copping out of my question. However, trying to come up with what I would see in the mirror proved harder than I expected. I could think of things that I want, but nothing that I would qualify as the deepest and most desperate desire of my heart. It got me to thinking, how many of us actually know what the deepest desire of our hearts is? Sure, we know what our hopes and dreams are, and what goals we hope to accomplish in our lives (well, most of us do anyway). But if we had to classify what our most well guarded, our most fervent, most desperate desire is, how many of us could answer? I have deep seeded desires, to be a good mother, to be a faithful and loving wife, to serve others in any way I can, to be a true and honest picture of Christ’s love…but are any of these really my most acute desire? Is this simply a matter of not knowing myself well enough?
Perhaps the problem runs deeper than that. I suppose that as a Christian the most desperate desire of my heart should be an ever-deepening relationship with Christ. The answer should be easy and honest, right? Does not being able to answer honestly in this way make me a bad Christian? Does this mean that my heart is not in the right place? I can’t believe that is the case. Anyone have any thoughts? This is just something I’ve been thinking about recently. Its amazing how though-provoking Harry Potter can be. What would you see if you looked in the mirror? Do you know? If you’re like me and can’t answer that question at this time, why do you think that is? I would love to hear the thoughts of others. I’m listening.
So this past week I finished reading Angels & Demons by Dan Brown. I just want to say this: I'm not one for fiction but this book had me. It was awesome. A common theme through-out the book is the interplay/rivalry/tension between the realms of science and religion. Several of the characters in the book make reference to the fact that a canister of antimatter is threatening to destroy Vatican City as symbolic. For me the entire issue came to a head when one character, the camerlengo, gave a speech to the cardinals that were in conclave. I've posted an excerpt for you to read:
"The ancient war between science and religion is over," the camerlengo said. "You have won. But you have not won fairly. You have not won by providing answers. You have won by so radically reorientating our society that the turth we once saw as signposts now seem inapplicable. Religion cannot keep up. Scientfic growth is exponential. It feeds on itself like a virus. Every new breakthrough opens doors for new breakthroughs. Mankind took thousands of years to progress from the wheel to the car. Yet only decades from the car into space. Now we measure scientific progress in weeks. We are spinning out control. The rift between us grows deeper and deeper, and as religion is left behind, people find themselves in a spiritual void. We cry out for meaning. And believe me, we do cry out. We see UFOs, engage in channeling, spirit contact, out-of-body experiences, mindquests - all these eccentric ideas have a scientific veneer, but they are unashamedly irrational. They are the desperate cry of the modern soul, lonely and tormented, crippled by its own enlightenment and its inability to accept meaning in anything removed from technology."
...
"Who is this God science? Who is the God who offers his people power but no moral framework to tell you how to use that power? What kind of God gives a child fire but does not warn the child of its dangers? The language of science comes with no signposts about good and bad. Science textbooks tell us how to create a nuclear reaction, and yet they contain no chapter asking us if it is a good or a bad idea."
...
"And all the while, you proclaim the church is ignorant. But who is more ignorant? The man who cannot define lightning, or the man who does not respect its awesome power? This church is reaching out to you. Reaching out to everyone. And yet the more we reach, teh more you push us away. Show me proof there is a God, you say. I say use your telescopes to look to the heavens, and tell me how there could not be a God!"
Wow. Powerful words. I'm still thinking this whole science/religion idea over. Up until I read this book I would have said, yes, progress for the sake of progress is good. Let's discover new and wonderful things and figure out how to use them later. Discovery is good and the stuff that science is made of.
But what about when that which is discovered has the power to destroy as well as create?
What about the gunpowder that helped us hunt our food but kill our fellow man? What about the nuclear reactions that can provide so much power but have killed thousands upon thousands of people? What about the cars that allow us to travel all over the land that used to take weeks and months but is slowly killing our planet?
What about that?
Like I said, I'm still thinking all of this over, but I was wondering if any of you out there had and thoughts to share. Please, leave a comment. I'll be sure to write about this again in a few days, once I make up my mind a little bit more.
Hello loyal readers, not that many, if any, of you are left. I am here to notify you of our imminent return. We're back like Optimus Prime from the dead and there's nothing you can do about it, besides maybe steal our Autobot Matrix of leadership...
Anyway, I said all that to say this: look for more posts in the future. I'm getting the crew back together with maybe a few new faces. I'm also possibly changing the feel of the place with some new writers and genres of writing. Maybe a little fiction anyone? Anyway, feel free to leave any comments or feedback or suggestions about what we can do to make the site a better place.
God Bless!
Upshaw