Eyes for eyes
Eyes are for eyes
and faces for faces-
the overlap of voices.
If you hadn't been there when I got home
I would have plummeted from the threshold.
All the strange shapes
that make a stranger less strange
the curves and movements you learn.
We began to sing and the song was the same
I wondered at the waves beginning to bear me up.
I love the years of breathing
that keep the Feather afloat-
the long watch of priestly investment.
When the muscles were tender you helped me
thread my arms and fasten the buttons.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Consuming (life-eating) vs. Creating (life-making)
First off let me admit that I'm ripping this idea off from an article I read written by Andy Crouch which you can find here: http://www.qideas.org/essays/from-purchases-to-practices.aspx
Andy says, "When we purchase, we are simply freeloading off the capacities some other person has developed, and our own capacities change very little or, most often, not at all. But when we practice, we change."
I'm a musician, songwriter, worship leader, storyteller, etc. and I love to record music as well. In short, I love 'making'. I love creating. It's the same reason I love to cook or have conversations. It's a process that ends in an effect which you have been personally invested in over a length of time. It always sounds self-centered but some of my favorite music to listen to is the music I make. Rich Mullins said you shouldn't make music you don't like. It's like lying. But I think the reason I like it isn't because I think it's the best music in the world, but because I'm personally invested in it. I breathed my soul into it and even if it's a little out of tune, the lyrics halting, or the performance messy it remains dear to me. It represents the always moving life-story within me, a sort of index of transformation.
When we consume a mere product there's no personal investment. We are feeding off of the investment of someone else. We experience a sensation of having gone through a process but it soon fades and we hunger again. Andy Crouch's illustration is when we learn an instrument we do not get instant gratification. We slowly develop an ability over time. We really do live through a process wherein we invest ourselves in making something.
That joy lasts, even grows over time.
I thought about reading the Bible and following Jesus.
At first it's like handling a guitar, you don't know how it works, you can't get much out of it, but you keep practicing. You keep reading the Bible. Over time you begin to see how it fits together, the stories resonate and come into focus (or in tune) with each other. So like learning an instrument, you begin to be able to hear a coherent music, a certain song develops. As you continue to work and practice hearing the song, the voice of Jesus lifts above the tune and you begin to realize you are holding in your hands a thing that is calling you, as your abilities grow, to sing this song for others. Over time your skill and joy increase as you practice living and participating in the ongoing creation of the Song of God.
But there was no instant gratification. You had to go through something. Had to deeply invest yourself even though you thought you'd never be able to get a single sweet chord from that guitar. Your fingers got sore and maybe bled on the steel strings. Now you can make it sing, now you can make your own contribution to the Music. And others will sing along in the mighty chorus.
May we commit to deeply investing over long years in the practice of reading the words and living out the call of Jesus! That's life-making and life-giving!
Andy says, "When we purchase, we are simply freeloading off the capacities some other person has developed, and our own capacities change very little or, most often, not at all. But when we practice, we change."
I'm a musician, songwriter, worship leader, storyteller, etc. and I love to record music as well. In short, I love 'making'. I love creating. It's the same reason I love to cook or have conversations. It's a process that ends in an effect which you have been personally invested in over a length of time. It always sounds self-centered but some of my favorite music to listen to is the music I make. Rich Mullins said you shouldn't make music you don't like. It's like lying. But I think the reason I like it isn't because I think it's the best music in the world, but because I'm personally invested in it. I breathed my soul into it and even if it's a little out of tune, the lyrics halting, or the performance messy it remains dear to me. It represents the always moving life-story within me, a sort of index of transformation.
When we consume a mere product there's no personal investment. We are feeding off of the investment of someone else. We experience a sensation of having gone through a process but it soon fades and we hunger again. Andy Crouch's illustration is when we learn an instrument we do not get instant gratification. We slowly develop an ability over time. We really do live through a process wherein we invest ourselves in making something.
That joy lasts, even grows over time.
I thought about reading the Bible and following Jesus.
At first it's like handling a guitar, you don't know how it works, you can't get much out of it, but you keep practicing. You keep reading the Bible. Over time you begin to see how it fits together, the stories resonate and come into focus (or in tune) with each other. So like learning an instrument, you begin to be able to hear a coherent music, a certain song develops. As you continue to work and practice hearing the song, the voice of Jesus lifts above the tune and you begin to realize you are holding in your hands a thing that is calling you, as your abilities grow, to sing this song for others. Over time your skill and joy increase as you practice living and participating in the ongoing creation of the Song of God.
But there was no instant gratification. You had to go through something. Had to deeply invest yourself even though you thought you'd never be able to get a single sweet chord from that guitar. Your fingers got sore and maybe bled on the steel strings. Now you can make it sing, now you can make your own contribution to the Music. And others will sing along in the mighty chorus.
May we commit to deeply investing over long years in the practice of reading the words and living out the call of Jesus! That's life-making and life-giving!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Tolkien and the power of Creativity
"The Christian still has to work, with mind as well as body, to suffer, hope, and die; but he may now percieve that all his bents and faculties have a purpose, which can be redeemed. So great is the bounty with which he has been treated that he may now, perhaps, fairly dare to guess that in Fantasy he may actually assist in the effoliation and multiple enrichment of creation. All tales may come true; and yet, at the last, redeemed, they may be as like and as unlike the forms that we give them as Man, finally redeemed, will be like and unlike the fallen that we know."
J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairie Stories
Verlyn Flieger in her book Splintered Light: Logos and Language in Tolkien's World goes on to say this:
"Both Tolkien and Barfield regarded the Word as the instrument of Creation and words as instruments of humanity's separation from God and from the universe...Both felt that the task of the poet was to bridge that separation, to use words to reconnect what they had severed. For each of them, words were to be poetic instruments of humankind's ultimate and conscious reunion with God." And again, "Poetry reinvests the world with meaning and rebuilds relationship with it." (pg 47-48)
In Tolkien's essay, these thoughts occur after his explanation that the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, that the Gospel itself is the ultimate case of a true myth. And that myth defines reality, calling us back to a time when the same God who called a dead messiah from a dark grave into the light of Easter morning, also spoke this creation into existence with the words, "Let there be light".
Could it be that God has always used something more akin to myth, poetry, song, and story to bring into realization his creation? For us, these things are considered the less concrete forms of expression. What if for God they are the most substantial means. What if the old stories of the Bible that sound so mythic are closer to reality than any literal language we could conjur? In other words, what if myth is actually more literal?
And finally, what if imagination and creativity are the doors through which we bring into reality a love so fantastic that it sounds like a fairy tale?
J.R.R. Tolkien, On Fairie Stories
Verlyn Flieger in her book Splintered Light: Logos and Language in Tolkien's World goes on to say this:
"Both Tolkien and Barfield regarded the Word as the instrument of Creation and words as instruments of humanity's separation from God and from the universe...Both felt that the task of the poet was to bridge that separation, to use words to reconnect what they had severed. For each of them, words were to be poetic instruments of humankind's ultimate and conscious reunion with God." And again, "Poetry reinvests the world with meaning and rebuilds relationship with it." (pg 47-48)
In Tolkien's essay, these thoughts occur after his explanation that the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, that the Gospel itself is the ultimate case of a true myth. And that myth defines reality, calling us back to a time when the same God who called a dead messiah from a dark grave into the light of Easter morning, also spoke this creation into existence with the words, "Let there be light".
Could it be that God has always used something more akin to myth, poetry, song, and story to bring into realization his creation? For us, these things are considered the less concrete forms of expression. What if for God they are the most substantial means. What if the old stories of the Bible that sound so mythic are closer to reality than any literal language we could conjur? In other words, what if myth is actually more literal?
And finally, what if imagination and creativity are the doors through which we bring into reality a love so fantastic that it sounds like a fairy tale?
Thursday, April 8, 2010
The God who loves bad ideas
About three years ago my beardly buddy William Parks gave me a book called "Dove" by Robin Lee Graham. He told me that it helped change his life. I put that book on my shelf and forgot about it. Occasionally, I would glance over toward it and think, "I should read that someday". But I didn't, till now. I just read the first chapter and I'm already excited enough to write a blog as I begin. I've also already called William to thank him for the book. It may be God's magic timing for me.
In the first chapter, after Lee, the main character, and his two buddies nearly get killed in a squall while attempting to sail from Hawaii to Lanai in a rigged up lifeboat - his Dad, instead of telling his son to never get in a boat again, decides to buy his son a better boat! Amazing. His Dad encourages his boy to sail again after he had just returned from a nearly fatal adventure.
I did not grow up this way. I was always told to do the safe, smart, secure thing.
Bob Goff twittered today: @bobgoff: I used to be afraid of failing at the things that matter to me; now I'm more afraid of succeeding at the things that don't matter.
When I called William to tell him I was reading "Dove". He said, "That book came to me at a time when I thought my life was worthless, so I had resigned myself to simply pursue things that didn't really matter. I thought that was all I could do, I thought that was all I was worth."
Imagine a Heavenly Father who looks at our crazy attempts to live, our failures, our ridiculous ideas and says, "That's exciting, hoist the sails! Onward into the imprudent!" Would that surprise you? It seems kind of unbelievable to me. So now Lee's dad has bought a better boat for his sixteen year old son and they are fixing it up together. Secretly, Lee is dreaming that he will use this boat to sail around the world by himself. He doesn't want to break the news to his Dad, because he's sure his Dad will think it's a terrible idea and try to stop him. Eventually, he spills the beans. Here are the few lines that slapped me in the face like a salty sea spray:
"Surprisingly, my father barely reacted when I put the idea to him. We were now working ten hours a day on preparing the Dove for the ocean. I did not realize at the time that secretly my father had been hoping I would come up with just such a scheme..."
Immediately, I thought, "God is always quietly hoping that we will come up with crazy schemes to light up the world with real life that only comes through ridiculous trust in him." We're always so afraid to admit that we want more life, or to do anything about it, God is just aching for us to give it a shot. And if we follow his example, we're bound to come up with terrible ideas. I'm learning those may be the best kind.
"For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom..." 1 Cor 1:25
In the first chapter, after Lee, the main character, and his two buddies nearly get killed in a squall while attempting to sail from Hawaii to Lanai in a rigged up lifeboat - his Dad, instead of telling his son to never get in a boat again, decides to buy his son a better boat! Amazing. His Dad encourages his boy to sail again after he had just returned from a nearly fatal adventure.
I did not grow up this way. I was always told to do the safe, smart, secure thing.
Bob Goff twittered today: @bobgoff: I used to be afraid of failing at the things that matter to me; now I'm more afraid of succeeding at the things that don't matter.
When I called William to tell him I was reading "Dove". He said, "That book came to me at a time when I thought my life was worthless, so I had resigned myself to simply pursue things that didn't really matter. I thought that was all I could do, I thought that was all I was worth."
Imagine a Heavenly Father who looks at our crazy attempts to live, our failures, our ridiculous ideas and says, "That's exciting, hoist the sails! Onward into the imprudent!" Would that surprise you? It seems kind of unbelievable to me. So now Lee's dad has bought a better boat for his sixteen year old son and they are fixing it up together. Secretly, Lee is dreaming that he will use this boat to sail around the world by himself. He doesn't want to break the news to his Dad, because he's sure his Dad will think it's a terrible idea and try to stop him. Eventually, he spills the beans. Here are the few lines that slapped me in the face like a salty sea spray:
"Surprisingly, my father barely reacted when I put the idea to him. We were now working ten hours a day on preparing the Dove for the ocean. I did not realize at the time that secretly my father had been hoping I would come up with just such a scheme..."
Immediately, I thought, "God is always quietly hoping that we will come up with crazy schemes to light up the world with real life that only comes through ridiculous trust in him." We're always so afraid to admit that we want more life, or to do anything about it, God is just aching for us to give it a shot. And if we follow his example, we're bound to come up with terrible ideas. I'm learning those may be the best kind.
"For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom..." 1 Cor 1:25
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
I see you but I don't know where you are...
Or "I hear you but I don't know what you mean" or "I'm here but I don't know where I am". It's really frustrating to be in a context and not be aware of that context. Have you ever had someone angry at you and you don't know why? Have you ever felt like their expectations were unfair? Have you ever been in an awkward situation and you simply didn't know how to respond wisely?
"No expectation is valid unless it is communicated and agreed upon by both parties." That's become a favorite quote when it comes to understanding how to function in relationship with people. You can't read people's minds and they can't read yours. We have to orient people toward a context and communicate expectations. Only then can we understand how to function in a given situation/relationship.
I'm a worship leader and I enjoy it. I'm also a singer/songwriter and storyteller. I am passionate about these things. I'm passionate about creating and communicating in order to feed relationship between God and people.
Last October my friend Brian Mulder and I took a month off and traveled all around the Eastern half of the United States sharing songs and stories. Mostly in people's living rooms. We discovered that, if we were to do that in a thoughtful way to serve people, we would have to give some sort of 'orientation' talk at the outset of each concert. People just needed to understand what they were in for. They needed to have the context communicated in order to understand how to function and respond and participate.
Most folks had never experienced a house concert before and simply didn't know what to do with it. Each time we explained what was happening, Brian and I could feel a sense of relief and 'getting it' breeze across the place. The context was clear, the expectations had been communicated and everyone was at ease because they knew how to participate. Fascinating.
We need a context wherein expectations have been made known and the parameters of participation have been defined. This is always the case in relationships. It's actually a huge relief to be here and know where you are, to hear you and know what you mean, to see you and know where you are. It's a way to serve each other, to be considerate. It takes honesty, effort, and humility.
For me at the moment, I'm thinking of how can I create a clear 'orientation' or 'mission' statement for the work that I do. I want people to easily understand my work and be freed to participate.
This may be a strange question, but would you leave a comment about what you 'got out of' a concert or worship time with me? What did you perceive was 'happening' during that time? What did it feel like was the purpose? That may help me see my calling externally and be able to articulate better a kind of missional statement. Thanks!
Any other thoughts?
"No expectation is valid unless it is communicated and agreed upon by both parties." That's become a favorite quote when it comes to understanding how to function in relationship with people. You can't read people's minds and they can't read yours. We have to orient people toward a context and communicate expectations. Only then can we understand how to function in a given situation/relationship.
I'm a worship leader and I enjoy it. I'm also a singer/songwriter and storyteller. I am passionate about these things. I'm passionate about creating and communicating in order to feed relationship between God and people.
Last October my friend Brian Mulder and I took a month off and traveled all around the Eastern half of the United States sharing songs and stories. Mostly in people's living rooms. We discovered that, if we were to do that in a thoughtful way to serve people, we would have to give some sort of 'orientation' talk at the outset of each concert. People just needed to understand what they were in for. They needed to have the context communicated in order to understand how to function and respond and participate.
Most folks had never experienced a house concert before and simply didn't know what to do with it. Each time we explained what was happening, Brian and I could feel a sense of relief and 'getting it' breeze across the place. The context was clear, the expectations had been communicated and everyone was at ease because they knew how to participate. Fascinating.
We need a context wherein expectations have been made known and the parameters of participation have been defined. This is always the case in relationships. It's actually a huge relief to be here and know where you are, to hear you and know what you mean, to see you and know where you are. It's a way to serve each other, to be considerate. It takes honesty, effort, and humility.
For me at the moment, I'm thinking of how can I create a clear 'orientation' or 'mission' statement for the work that I do. I want people to easily understand my work and be freed to participate.
This may be a strange question, but would you leave a comment about what you 'got out of' a concert or worship time with me? What did you perceive was 'happening' during that time? What did it feel like was the purpose? That may help me see my calling externally and be able to articulate better a kind of missional statement. Thanks!
Any other thoughts?
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