Musical Monday: Pokey & the South City Three

Here's how one fan describes Pokey:


"...his slight frame is packed with Southern charm the relentless drive of a Wall Street tycoon, the mischievous spirit of every class clown you've ever known, and what seems like, one very old soul."

Seven Stanzas At Easter

Seven Stanzas At Easter

byJohn Updike

Make no mistake: if He rose at all 

it was as His body;
if the cells' dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that--pierced--died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.

The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.

And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck's quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.

Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.

A Better Resurrection

BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

I have no wit, no words, no tears;

         My heart within me like a stone

Is numb'd too much for hopes or fears;

         Look right, look left, I dwell alone;

I lift mine eyes, but dimm'd with grief

         No everlasting hills I see;

My life is in the falling leaf:

         O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf,

         My harvest dwindled to a husk:

Truly my life is void and brief

         And tedious in the barren dusk;

My life is like a frozen thing,

         No bud nor greenness can I see:

Yet rise it shall—the sap of Spring;

         O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl,

         A broken bowl that cannot hold

One drop of water for my soul

         Or cordial in the searching cold;

Cast in the fire the perish'd thing;

         Melt and remould it, till it be

A royal cup for Him, my King:

         O Jesus, drink of me.

O Most Villainous Villain!

I just read Shakespeare's Othello for the first time.  Perhaps I never would have read it, but   the Shakespeare Festival of St. Louis is performing it this summer at Forest Park and I wanted to be familiar with the storyline.  Wow.

I may have just been introduced to Shakespeare's most villainous villain!  Iago is a wicked man. When passed over for a promotion, he begins plotting the destruction of friend and foe alike...and if you know Shakespeare, you know how that's bound to turn out!

MacBeth's tragedy unfolds through a desperate grasp for power, Hamlet's through a driving desire for revenge, but the tragedy in Othello comes through the outworking of overwhelming jealousies: both Iago's, as well as false snares of jealousy which he lays out for others.

I was excited to learn that Bruce Longworth, who directed Hamlet a couple years ago, is filling that role again.  Though the cast is missing the talents of Jim Butz, I expect Mr. Longworth will do great things once again.  

Join me?  

The Triumph of Easter

The Triumph of Easter 

(an excerpt)

by: Dorothy Sayers

When Judas sinned, Jesus paid; He brought good out of evil, He led out triumph from the gates of hell and brought all mankind out with Him; but the suffering of Jesus and the sin of Judas remain a reality. God did not abolish the fact of evil: He transformed it. He did not stop the crucifixion: He rose from the dead. 

"Then Judas, which had betrayed Him, when he saw that He was condemned,... cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself." And thereby Judas committed the final, the fatal, the most pitiful error of all; for he despaired of God and himself and never waited to see the Resurrection. Had he done so, there would have been an encounter, and an opportunity, to leave invention bankrupt; but unhappily for himself, he did not. In this world, at any rate, he never saw the triumph of Christ fulfilled upon him, and through him, and despite of him. He saw the dreadful payment made, and never knew what victory had been purchased with the price.

All of us, perhaps, are too ready, when our behaviour turns out to have appalling consequences, to rush out and hang ourselves. Sometimes we do worse, and show an inclination to go and hang other people. Judas, at least, seems to have blamed nobody but himself, and St. Peter, who had a minor betrayal of his own to weep for, made his act of contrition and waited to see what came next. What came next for St. Peter and the other disciples was the sudden assurance of what God was, and with it the answer to all the riddles.

If Christ could take evil and suffering and do that sort of thing with them, then of course it was all worth while, and the triumph of Easter linked up with that strange, triumphant prayer in the Upper Room, which the events of Good Friday had seemed to make so puzzling. As for their own parts in the drama, nothing could now alter the fact that they had been stupid, cowardly, faithless, and in many ways singularly unhelpful; but they did not allow any morbid and egotistical remorse to inhibit their joyful activities in the future.

Now, indeed, they could go out and "do something" about the problem of sin and suffering. They had seen the strong hands of God twist the crown of thorns into a crown of glory, and in hands as strong as that they knew themselves safe. They had misunderstood practically everything Christ had ever said to them, but no matter: the thing made sense at last, and the meaning was far beyond anything they had dreamed. They had expected a walk-over, and they beheld a victory; they had expected an earthly Messiah, and they beheld the Soul of Eternity.

It had been said to them of old time, "No man shall look upon My face and live"; but for them a means had been found. They had seen the face of the living God turned upon them; and it was the face of a suffering and rejoicing Man.

From St. John's Passion

From the bonds of my sins to unbind me, my Salvation is bound. To heal me fully from all boils of vice He lets Himself be wounded.

O my senses, where have you finally gone!  Where shall I restore myself?  Shall I stay here, or do I wish mountains and hills to fall upon my back?  With the world there is no counsel at all, while in my heart persist the agonies of my misdeed, for the servant has denied his lord.

Give thought, my soul, with anguished pleasure, with bitter delight and half-anxious heart, to thy highest good in Jesus' sorrows, how from the thorns that pierce him heavenly flowers bloom for thee.  Thou canst pluck much sweet fruit from the bitter wormwood, therefore look unceasingly upon him.

Consider how his blood-tinged back in all its parts is just like the sky, where, after the floodwaves of our sins' deluge have passed by, the most exceedingly beautiful rainbow stands as a sign of God's grace.

Through your captivity, Son of God, freedom must come to us.  Your prison cell is the throne of grace, the refuge of all the devout.  For if you had not entered into servitude, our servitude would have had no end.

Hasten, you tormented souls, leave your dens of misery.  Hasten!  Where to?  To Golgotha!  Take the wings of faith and fly!  Where to?  To the hill of the cross!  That is where your powers will be revived.

At the bottom of my heart your name and cross alone shine forth every minute of every day, for which I can be joyful.  Show me in my mind's eye - for consolation in my distress - how you, Christ, so abundantly bled to death!

My precious Savior, let me ask you: Since you were nailed to the cross and have yourself said, "It is accomplished," have I been made free from death?  Can I, through your pain and death, inherit the kingdom of heaven?  Is the redemption of the world here?  You can, in agony, it is true, say nothing, but you bow your head and say in silence, "Yea."

O help, Christ, Son of God, through your bitter suffering that we, ever submissive to you, may shun all wrongdoing.  May consider, to our benefit, your death and its cause for which we, though poor and weak, may bring you thank-offerings.

Punctuation Matters

From my friend, Randy Stone:

An English professor wrote the words, "Woman without her man is nothing" on the blackboard and directed his students to punctuate it correctly.

The men wrote: 

"Woman, without her man, is nothing."

The women wrote: 

"Woman: Without her, man is nothing."

A Poem

Soldier Sacrifice

By Eric Shaffer

If you have the strength of a thousand men

And the courage of a lion;

If you can handle the unpredictable seas

And have an iron fortress of a stomach;

If you have the honor to fight 

And the will power to leave the ones you love;

If you have the agility of a cheetah 

And the intelligence of a computer;

If you have the dedication to keep on when all others have failed

And the discipline to go the extra mile; 

If you have the love to leave no man behind

And the kindness to protect the innocent;

If you have all of these admirable traits

Then you could be one of the few…. a Marine.

Musical Monday: Simon & Garfunkel

New Life

A beautiful depiction of the glory of resurrection after a long winter's death:

The Life of flowers (Жизнь цветов) from VOROBYOFF PRODUCTION on Vimeo.

Musical Monday: Ella & Louis

Life Under the Sun

What do a seminary professor, a former NFL lineman, a pastor and a chef all have in common?  

Life under the sun, that's what.

I have had the privilege of attending a series of "lectures" on Friday evenings at an unassuming little coffee shop in South City.  I have been intellectually stimulated, as one would expect to be in a lecture series, but more than that, I have been edified, encouraged, enriched, and moved by the personal narratives of men whose lives are being lived Coram Deo; men with widely divergent paths but whose stories all point to a single truth: God's faithful redemptive work in the soul of man brings forth profound beauty and magnificence that cannot be surpassed.

God intervenes in our stories.  He inserts Himself into our narratives.  Sometimes through our foolishness.  Sometimes through our faithful service to others.  Sometimes through inconceivable tragedy.  Sometimes that intervention comes at our plea, but sometimes it comes when we are running full bore to avoid Him.

In spite of the fall, sin, and the curse, the beauty of life under the sun has been uncovered in each of these men's narratives.  Regardless of their particular callings, each has experienced God's revelation of His mercy, grace, redemption, and love in their stories.  In turn, they have sought diligently to bring the wonders of God's truth and light to bear on their daily work.  

Their paths, not unlike ours, have at times been arduous and even treacherous.  They have experienced both the glory and the tragedy that is Man, and have reconciled this antithesis in The Gospel of Jesus Christ.  

They have not lived "charmed" lives, but rather common, everyday, mundane lives like yours and mine.  But in responding to God's mercy, they have found joy and dignity in the everydayness of life under the sun. 

If you live in St. Louis, I urge you to take advantage of this opportunity the next 2 Friday nights.  You will be blessed and edified by entering into the ongoing story of God's redemption as you enter the stories of these men.   Meet us at the Broadway Bean at 7PM tonight! 

This series is sponsored by Resurrection Presbyterian Church.

Musical Monday: Red Molly & Dolly

Here is the original from Dolly Parton.  Did you realize she could play guitar like that?  I didn't!

Peterson on Job: Part 3

In our compassion, we don't like to see people suffer.  And so our instincts are aimed at preventing and alleviating suffering.  No doubt that is a good impulse.  But if we really want to reach out to others who are suffering, we should be careful not to be like Job's friends, not to do our "helping" with the presumption that we can fix things, get rid of them, or make them "better."  We may look at our suffering friends and imagine how they could have better marriages, better-behaved children, better mental and emotional health.  But when we rush in to fix suffering, we need to keep in mind several things.

First, no matter how insightful we may be, we don't really understand the full nature of our friends' problems.  Second, our friends may not want our advice.  Third, the ironic fact of the matter is that more often than not, people do not suffer less when they are committed to following God, but more.  When these people go through suffering, their lives are often transformed, deepened, marked with beauty and holiness, in remarkable ways that could never have been anticipated before the suffering.

So, instead of continuing to focus on preventing suffering - which we simply won't be very successful at anyway - perhaps we should begin entering the suffering, participating insofar as we are able - entering the mystery and looking around for God.  In other words, we need to quit feeling sorry for people who suffer and instead look up to them, learn from them, and - if they will let us - join them in protest and prayer.  Pity can be nearsighted and condescending; shared suffering can be dignifying and life-changing.  As we look at Job's suffering and praying and worshiping, we see that he has already blazed a trail of courage and integrity for us to follow.

But sometimes it's hard to know just how to follow Job's lead when we feel so alone in our suffering, unsure of what God wants us to do.  What we must realize during those times of darkness is that the God who appeared to Job in the whirlwind is calling out to all of us.  Although God may not appear to us in a vision, he makes himself known to us in all the many ways that he describes to Job - from the macro to the micro, from the wonders of the galaxies to the little things we take for granted.  He is the Creator of the unfathomable universe all around us - and he is also the Creator of the universe inside of us.  And so we gain hope - not from the darkness of our suffering, not from pat answers in books, but from the God who sees our suffering and shares in our pain.

Reading Job prayerfully and meditatively leads us to face the questions that arise when our lives don't turn out the way we expect them to.  First we hear all the stock answers.  Then we ask the questions again, with variations - and hear the answers again, with variations.   Over and over and over.  Every time we let Job give voice to our own questions, our suffering gains in dignity and we are brought a step closer to the threshold of the voice and mystery of God.  Every time we persist with Job in rejecting the quick-fix counsel of people who see us and hear us but do not understand us, we deepen our availability and openness to the revelation that comes only out of the tempest.  The mystery of God eclipses the darkness and the struggle. We realize that suffering calls our lives into question, not God's.  The tables are turned: God-Alive is present to us.  God is speaking to us.  And so Job's experience is confirmed and repeated once again in our suffering and our vulnerable humanity.

Peterson on Job: Part 2

There is more to the book of Job than Job.  There are Job's friends.  The moment we find ourselves in trouble of any kind - sick in the hospital, bereaved by a friend's death, dismissed from a job or relationship, depressed, or bewildered - people start showing up telling us exactly what is wrong with us and what we must do to get better.  Sufferers attract fixers the way roadkill attracts vultures.  At first we are impressed that they bother with us and amazed at their facility with answers.  They know so much!  How did they get to be such experts in living?

More often that not, these people use the Word of God frequently and loosely.  They are full of spiritual diagnosis and prescription.  It all sounds so hopeful.  But then we begin to wonder.  "Why is it that for all their apparent compassion we feel worse instead of better after they've said their piece?"

The book of Job is not only a witness to the dignity of suffering and God's presence in our suffering but is also our primary biblical protest against religion that has been reduced to explanations or "answers."  Many of the answers that Job's so-called friends give him are technically true.  But is it the "technical" part that ruins them.  They are answers without personal relationship, intellect without intimacy.  The answers are slapped onto Job's ravaged life like labels on a specimen bottle.  Job rages against this secularized wisdom that has lost touch with the living realities of God.

In every generation there are men and women who pretend to be able to instruct us in a way of life that guarantees that we will be "healthy, wealthy, and wise."  According to the propaganda of these people, anyone who lives intelligently and morally is exempt from suffering.  From their point of view, it is lucky for us that they are now at hand to provide the intelligent and moral answers we need.  

On behalf of all of us who have been misled by the platitudes of the nice people who show up to tell us everything is going to be just all right if we simply think such-and-such and do such-and-such, Job issues an anguished rejoinder.  He rejects the kind of advice and teaching that has God all figured out, that provides glib explanations for every circumstance.  Job's honest defiance continues to be the best defense against the cliches of positive thinkers and the prattle of religious small talk.  

The honest, innocent Job is placed in a setting of immense suffering and then surrounded by the conventional religious wisdom of the day in the form of speeches by Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar, and Elihu.  The contrast is unforgettable.  The counselors methodically and pedantically recite their bookish precepts to Job.  At first Job rages in pain and roars out his protests, but then he becomes silent in awestruck faith before God, who speaks from out of a storm - a "whirlwind" of Deity.  Real faith cannot be reduced to spiritual bromides and merchandised in success stories.  It is refined in the fires and the storms of pain.

The book of Job does not reject answers as such.  There is content to biblical religion.  It is the secularization of answers that is rejected - answers severed from their Source, the living God, the Word that both batters us and heals us.  We cannot have truth about God divorced from the mind and heart of God.  

...to be con't

Peterson on Job: Part I

These thoughtful and poetic words from Eugene Peterson's introduction to the book of Job, both admonished and encouraged me.  Perhaps you too will find them helpful:

It is not suffering as such that troubles us.  It is undeserved suffering.

Almost all of us in our years of growing up have the experience of disobeying our parents and getting punished for it.  When that discipline was connected to wrongdoing, it had a certain sense of justice to it; When we do wrong, we get punished.

One of the surprises as we get older, however, is that we come to see that there is no real correlation between the amount of wrong we commit and the amount of pain we experience.  An even larger surprise is that very often there is something quite the opposite: We do right and get knocked down.  We do the best we are capable of doing, and just as we are reaching out to receive our reward we are hit from the blind side and sent reeling.  

This is the suffering that first bewilders and then outrages us.  This is the kind of suffering that bewildered and outraged Job, for Job was doing everything right when suddenly everything went wrong.  And it is this kind of suffering to which Job gives voice when he protests to God.

Job gives voice to his sufferings so well, so accurately and honestly, that anyone who has ever suffered - which includes every last one of us - can recognize his or her personal pain in the voice of Job.  Job says boldly what some of us are too timid to say.  He makes poetry out of what in many of us is only a tangle of confused whimpers.  He shouts out to God what a lot of us mutter behind our sleeves.  

It is also important to note what Job does not do, lest we expect something from him that he does not intend. Job does not curse God as his wife suggests he should do, getting rid of the problem by getting rid of God.  But neither does Job explain suffering.  He does not instruct us in how to live so that we can avoid suffering.  Suffering is a mystery, and Job comes to respect the mystery.

In the course of facing, questioning, and respecting suffering, Job finds himself in an even larger mystery - the mystery of God.  Perhaps the greatest mystery in suffering is how it can bring a person into the presence of God in a state of worship, full of wonder, love and praise.  Suffering does not inevitably do that, but it does it far more often than we would expect.  It certainly did that for Job.  Even in his answer to his wife he speaks the language of an uncharted irony, a dark and difficult kind of truth: "We take the good days from God - why not also the bad days?" 

...to be cont'

How to Draw

A vastly talented young man from my church posted this uber-cool mockup today on FB.  It's from one of many artistic projects he has underway.

The graphic, which makes it look like even a simpleton could draw his Poseidon, reminded me of this little gem: (I share somewhat hesitantly...my edited version)

which demonstrates just how helpful his step-by-step  instructions are to an unartistic git such as myself.

Everything In Its Place

I WANT to say I don't know how this happens.  But I do.  I get wrapped up in this project or that opportunity or this person or that book...I run from one to the next to the next without coming up for air and when I finally SLOW DOWN...I am surrounded by ONE BIG MESS!

This week I began putting things back in order in my home, one room at a time.  First: I empty it completely, as if I were moving out.  Then: I clean the empty room, top to bottom.  Next: I handle every single item that came out of the room. It either gets tossed, or put in a yard sale pile, or cleaned and assigned a home within the newly cleaned and organized room.  

Room #1:  Laundry Room - View 1

Laundry Room: View #2

Just getting' started...

Musical Monday: Gillian & David

Red Carpet

I have never yet watched the Academy Awards, but I almost always scroll through the red carpet fashion pictures afterward...mostly for entertainment, shock and awe.  This year, I was pleasantly surprised to actually see dresses I liked!   Here are my top 5 favorites of the evening:

#5:

#4:

#3:

#2:

#1:

I thought each of these was lovely...feminine, well-fitted, and relatively modest too.  These gals also carried themselves with dignity.

Kudos to Glenn Close and Natalie Portman, who also looked lovely!