These days I do not preach very often.
I have a degree in pastoral ministries from New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary as well as a bachelor of Arts in Christian Studies with an emphasis in pastoral ministries (as well as a bachelor of Arts in Humanities but that is beside the point at this point).
It has been a couple of years since I've taught on a regular basis, a few years since I've done anything I would qualify as being "preaching".
Ever since I was about fourteen I started on a path towards doing 'ministry', 'preaching' whatever all that means. Honestly I'm not sure myself and I've spent a lot of time thinking about those terms and trying to try and come to some real conclusion.
About the time I graduated from high school and started college some events transpired that gave me a foul taste in my mouth concerning church and ministry. Since that time I've had trouble going to church and interacting with Christians. To a large degree I started to develop a distrust and at times a self righteous disgust of Christians.
I got tired of the cliches, tired of the mind games, tired of the politics, tired of the lame jokes and the stupid suits and ties. I got burned out and bitter. I would hear expressions like "God bless you" "God Bless the USA", "Jesus loves you" and see the thousands and at times millions of dollars poured into buildings and programs to entertain the people in church while at the time ignoring those living in poverty just a few miles down the road.
I have and still see Jesus being used as a political tool, some sort of rally cry to gather protesters...as if using Jesus in your slogans would somehow make your cause 'righteous' and 'good'.
If I was to be perfectly honest I think I would be branded both crazed and a heretic. I don't feel I'm that crazy or heretical just that Jesus doesn't divide people based on ethnicity, social class, skin color, religion or anything else people have invented just so they can look down on others. I have serious doubt that Jesus supports the Republican, the Democrats or the Green party...or any political body for that matter. Politicians are just like the rest of us and only care about their immediate concerns.
I could go on about this but for those interested in doing a little background reading about this check out 1 Samuel 8-10
I could go on with this but I'm not going to, that isn't the exact point of this letter, sermon or whatever you want to call it. I don't know what it is exactly. I just know I've seen a lot of broken lives, heard so many stories and just know that this world is getting worse.
Being sick with a disease that keeps me constantly in pain and nauseated has been somewhat sobering. Around the fall of 2007 I was looking at doing a masters of divinity in Birmingham. Now I'm looking at doing a masters of divinity out in San Fransisco. I'm still not exactly sure why I'm doing this other then the fact I feel that I'm being told to do so.
I guess all this comes back to this wild and crazed revolutionary and controversial guy called Jesus. Well, to just say he is a man would miss the point. I mean, the backbone of my education for the better part of six years has been that Jesus is more than a man, that even though he lived and died around two thousand years ago, he is actually alive and is both God and man and somehow he is my best friend and savior.
I never said this was going to sound sane but even though I openly question how this is possible every time I think about it...I can't help but laugh. Like love, it is something that chooses you and you have to give back...or something. I mean, this gets to be really complicated really fast. As much as I try to appreciate the work of those who do apologetics...a lot of time is wasted on research that doesn't amount to much.
From my experience people dying, those who are unemployed, the drug junkie shaking while wanting his next fix...you could pile up all the archeological evidence in the world before them and they could care less. It's not that I'm trying to cause a lot of trouble or step on toes but unless the church is grounded in the dirt and grime of the world, where is she?
I know people like to reduce Jesus to being some sort of holy guy that said 'Hey, why don't we try loving people?' and that sort of is true but at the same time misses the whole point.
For anyone who has bothered to actually read the Bible Jesus was not a lovey hippie figure as much as he was a loudly spoken rabbi who scared religious and political figures so much that they killed him. And despite the minor setback of death that couldn't stop Him.
Don't ask me how it works but it does. There are many trite and pointless analogies and comparisons that real preachers try to use but they all, to be frank, suck. How do you begin to compare the infinite love of an incomprehensibly omniscient and omnipresent being to the breeze blowing, or of human love?
Seriously.
If we're talking about Jesus, this insane mixture of deity and human being then we are talking about something we CANNOT comprehend with empirical science. People have wasted their entire lives arguing and killing one another over who has a better definition of Jesus.
That is partly what this is about, at least I think it is.
I'm sick of the fighting.
Every time I turn on the news or check the BBC's website my stomach turns. I feel nauseated. How many mass shootings have we had in the past weeks? Months? Years? How many times do we hear of someone screaming "Allahu Ackbar!" (Glory to God, for more information see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takbir) before detonating a bomb and killing dozens of people.
'Glory to God'?
Seriously.
Or how about the crusades? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crusade
Did you read that part in the Bible where Jesus said "Oh, by the way guys, this religion called Islam is going to pop up around the seventh century and eventually will take over Jerusalem. I want you guys to know this ahead of time so you can gather a large group of Anglo Saxons claiming divine right and go kill the Muslims. Rape, pillage, you know the war thing."
What about something a bit more home grown, the whole "Manifest Destiny" that resulted in the genocide of the Native Americans?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manifest_Destiny
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wounded_Knee_Massacre
Or The Troubles in Northern Ireland that have been going on for decades? Militant Catholics and Protestants killing one another.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Troubles
Wait, did someone just say Protestants versus Catholics?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thirty_Years%27_War
I could go on because there is more...but I'm tired of this. As George Santayana said "Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
There has been so much wholesale slaughter in the name of Jesus, so many people rejected and told they are scum by the established church, so many broken promises, so many lies...and at the end of the day I'm no better than those who came before me.
I'm just another broken soul that is afraid and is unsure of life. Half the time I feel afraid to do anything and half the time I feel this indescribable peace and presence that scares me as much as it brings peace.
Love given to me from a finite being merely scares me, love from One who is incomprehensible terrifies me. It's bad enough to look up at the sky when its dark and see the vast ocean of stars...and to think there is One who effortlessly spoke all of this into being?
I mean, really, where does that leave us?
The more I pray, the more I read, the more I study...the bigger the gap seems. There are a good many of different things I believe but most of it can be summed up rather easily:
"One of the religion scholars came up. Hearing the lively exchanges of question and answer and seeing how sharp Jesus was in his answers, he put in his question: "Which is most important of all the commandments?"
Jesus said, "The first in importance is, 'Listen, Israel: The Lord your God is one; so love the Lord God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and energy.' And here is the second: 'Love others as well as you love yourself.' There is no other commandment that ranks with these.""
-Mark 12:28-30
One of my many problems with talking about this kind of thing is knowing where to begin and end things. There is so much to say and so much that is running around in my mind at any give point in the day. But the only thing that still catches my breath still, that makes my heart beat so erratically...is this thought of love.
Genuine love. Not the broken and limited love of people but the αγάπη, the love expressed only by the divine (for some more thoughts on this see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agape
It is this love that I'm chiefly concerned with and it is the lack of reciprocation among Christians that have resulted in some of the most horrific tragedies imaginable.
It is this love that is incredibly complex and simple, both mundane at times and breath taking as well.
It was this love that was expressed when Jesus died on the cross, acting as a passover Lamb for all sin. I know a lot of preachers spend time focusing on how horrible humans are, how dirty we are and how much we need help because none of us can save ourselves. Just a glance at the news headlines and honestly if there is no hope beyond this physical world there is no need to worry about finding Hell because it is already here.
And I really do not feel comfortable talking about this kind of thing. I'm sure to some people it seems like I'm pointing the finger and saying "Look how bad they are and look how awesome I am! Woo! Go team Jesus!" but what I'm trying to say is that the church, including me, has been contributing to the problem by missing the entire point off the Gospel...which is love.
It doesn't matter how you dress, what words you use, what rituals you partake in, what songs you sing or scream, it doesn't matter the degree of love you felt growing up. The past is the past and the offer for a life freed from addiction of self is a few breaths away.
I wish there were some kind of magic words I could speak, some sort of special phrase I could utter and it would make everything better. But the reality of the situation is that things are going to continue to get worse until someone does something.
The task is huge and the potential for failure has never been greater...but for those who have been touched by this incomprehensible love...what are we waiting for? What am I waiting for?
Music to me is a life force that helps push me and keep me going. Positive reinforcement and an outlet for the prayers my soul can only scream in the dark of the night.
A song that has captured this feeling...this disappointment...this heartache of seeing Christianity hijacked and used and manipulated for hate can be found in the U2 song "Sunday Bloody Sunday".
The song itself paints a picture that is a juxtaposition of the massacre in Northern Ireland as Bloody Sunday to the resurrection of Christ on Sunday.
I know I hear a lot of jokes from friends about my love of U2 but this particular performance of this song captures this feeling...this...place where my mind has been traveling to.
How long? How much longer will we be singing this song? How long until the church, until I actually stand up for what is right?
When Jesus mentions loving your enemies, he means loving them as you would your friends. It mean destroying our prejudices about everyone and throwing down our weapons. The early church followed to their deaths.
There is a power in complete surrender and unclenching your fist. Saying no to revenge, saying no to the cancerous hate and fear that threaten to consume our lives. If someone actually wants to change the world they have to love people as Jesus did and being willing to pay for it, just like He did.
I'm so sick of this, not just the hypocrisy in televangelist, not only the wolves posing as sheep to steal money, not just the faux Christian 'leaders' calling for political assassinations and for Christians to 'take back their country'; I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of being so caught up in my problems that I ignore the world around me. For those of us with enough audacity to call ourselves Christians (as it were, ones like Christ, 1 Peter 4:12-19) we have a lot to answer for...a lot to make amends for.
Sometimes the best thing we can do is shut our mouths long enough to hear others speak and the best response we can give is a hug. Words cannot hope to describe and define the beautiful horror that seizes a person when they realize they are loved by Christ. The best we can hope to do is to show that love in how we live, how we treat others and most importantly loving our enemies even if it means our death. That will show a world that Christ is alive and burning inside us.
"Here's another old saying that deserves a second look: 'Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.' Is that going to get us anywhere? Here's what I propose: 'Don't hit back at all.' If someone strikes you, stand there and take it. If someone drags you into court and sues for the shirt off your back, giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it. And if someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life. No more tit-for-tat stuff. Live generously.
"You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.
"In a word, what I'm saying is, Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you."
-Matthew 5:38-48
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
"The Beginning" - Showbread
I used to dream that I could fly
Just above the whispered clouds, beneath the somber sky
I had a dream I was alive
I dreamt that love would never die, goodbye
Dreams were cheap and hope was easy (so light)
The forgeries of life deceiving (so bright)
And as I glided to the ground (so long)
Calcified, the concrete weighed me down (cruel world)
Your wings are holding up the sky
Dear God, I had dreamt that I could fly
Alkaline the burning frost, has blistered deep beneath my bones
And winter spat its hatred, cold and coiled, black and deep
As it called me ever further, where evil burns and never sleeps
I once had prayers that found no words, fragile things I've never spoken
Through my lips passed eulogies for all the oaths that I have broken
And still the ghost of hope was haunting, through the dark to save the living
And still beneath it all I dreamt that God could be forgiving
Your wings are holding up the sky
Dear God, I dreamt that I could fly
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride
I am the worst of all things here
My crooked, black, and lying heart still spits its bitter fear
And each and every sparrow
They flutter to the ground before they die
So please God don't forget me
''I have been with you all along, you have not noticed me.'
Nervosa now felt more ashamed than ever before.
'Why would you still care enough to save me
even after seeing the horrible things I have done?
Why do you remain here even now?' She asked, sobbing.
'Because, here is where you are,' the Lamb said softly,
'And I long to be with you.''
See from His head, His hands, His feet
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
To Christ, who won for sinners' grace
By bitter grief and anguish sore
Be praise from all the ransomed race
Forever and forevermore
Just above the whispered clouds, beneath the somber sky
I had a dream I was alive
I dreamt that love would never die, goodbye
Dreams were cheap and hope was easy (so light)
The forgeries of life deceiving (so bright)
And as I glided to the ground (so long)
Calcified, the concrete weighed me down (cruel world)
Your wings are holding up the sky
Dear God, I had dreamt that I could fly
Alkaline the burning frost, has blistered deep beneath my bones
And winter spat its hatred, cold and coiled, black and deep
As it called me ever further, where evil burns and never sleeps
I once had prayers that found no words, fragile things I've never spoken
Through my lips passed eulogies for all the oaths that I have broken
And still the ghost of hope was haunting, through the dark to save the living
And still beneath it all I dreamt that God could be forgiving
Your wings are holding up the sky
Dear God, I dreamt that I could fly
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride
I am the worst of all things here
My crooked, black, and lying heart still spits its bitter fear
And each and every sparrow
They flutter to the ground before they die
So please God don't forget me
''I have been with you all along, you have not noticed me.'
Nervosa now felt more ashamed than ever before.
'Why would you still care enough to save me
even after seeing the horrible things I have done?
Why do you remain here even now?' She asked, sobbing.
'Because, here is where you are,' the Lamb said softly,
'And I long to be with you.''
See from His head, His hands, His feet
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
To Christ, who won for sinners' grace
By bitter grief and anguish sore
Be praise from all the ransomed race
Forever and forevermore
Somewhere Between Love and Here
Fallen out of sight of You
I start to loose myself.
Your voice is so faint,
but I can remember,
remember those first words.
The words bringing the chaos to calm,
the words that brought order
to an endless void.
With a simple word you speak
and creation kneels before thee.
You spoke and by your breath
brought this soul and body together.
I cannot remember much
but I have felt your arms
and your tears matching mine.
The burdens around me
that threaten to capsize me
and pull me under
are never a surprise to You.
Somewhere a child is dying
cold, alone and hungry.
Somewhere an innocent
is dying alone
blood pooled around
forsake by all
but You.
A blood smeared cross is the profit of my gains.
I killed the maker of creation
Arson of the soul burning with no notion
forgetting the price of life and the pain.
Every last word I can whisper
speaks as an eternal scream
blood red spilling as ink on paper
Nightmares replace my dreams
as I long for You again.
To have my savior be mine,
the One whose love is not mere vapor
burning in the sun.
But the One whose love burns the sky
gentle as a lamb
more fearsome than the darkness
There is no aptness
no words
no ritual
no saving grace
except for what You have given.
This body will continue to fail
and my words ring about in this room empty,
curses lifted in vain
against myself
against You
and whoever else who tries to help.
I lack words to speak
as I gasp for air
to weak now to scream.
I whisper in the dark,
I wonder where you are.
I can't scream
and my throat aches from the sores
of a lifetime spent lost
but here You are.
The smells of death and decay
and the rotting piles of trash around me.
The dark smiles at me,
smirks I recognize as my own.
Whispers of finality
that is my own voice.
I am but not alone.
More then this pain
and finality is You.
Jesus, bless me so I can move.
My tongue is full of venom
and has crafted so much deceit.
The blood continues to flow out
and I beg for Your touch once more.
The medication blocks the pain
but the disease of sin still festers.
Kiss the sparrow and come back to my side.
You see the fields of flowers
but I only see me.
There is a world diseased and dying
but here I am.
Please find me here.
Forget me not.
Forgive me for my doubt
and the gods that are my pain.
I don't understand.
My mind become more clouded
pain more intense.
I don't want to be saved,
I want to be yours.
I speak contradiction
and have my life engraved in stone.
It seems like the view of a sea.
White sands and eternal oceans.
My weakness and hate evident.
The tears I shed are for myself.
I've never remembered another
or cared to help give my abundance.
It is self.
No why or how.
No rhyme or reason.
Just this shattered heart
feeling lungs collapse.
Feeling the pain in my stomach build
for no reason.
Can we go alone,
just You and I?
Could You carry me to distant shores
although You have already died?
Can you carry the weight of my sins
and the weight of this dead body?
Can you carry me through eternity
and wipe away every tear?
Will you please save me,
Savior?
Redeemer?
Your cross is horrifying in its beauty.
Undying love at the price of a life.
My pride, my lust and my ambition
the hammers that drove nails
and here I lay on this mountain
covered in the dirt of this worlds triteness.
I feel the cold piercing my bones.
The fever of endless dreams
while waiting on this mountain side.
I wait while my faith breathes its last
and my body longs to give in with one last sigh
so please do not forget me Father.
Do not leave me here
rotting in my shame.
I start to loose myself.
Your voice is so faint,
but I can remember,
remember those first words.
The words bringing the chaos to calm,
the words that brought order
to an endless void.
With a simple word you speak
and creation kneels before thee.
You spoke and by your breath
brought this soul and body together.
I cannot remember much
but I have felt your arms
and your tears matching mine.
The burdens around me
that threaten to capsize me
and pull me under
are never a surprise to You.
Somewhere a child is dying
cold, alone and hungry.
Somewhere an innocent
is dying alone
blood pooled around
forsake by all
but You.
A blood smeared cross is the profit of my gains.
I killed the maker of creation
Arson of the soul burning with no notion
forgetting the price of life and the pain.
Every last word I can whisper
speaks as an eternal scream
blood red spilling as ink on paper
Nightmares replace my dreams
as I long for You again.
To have my savior be mine,
the One whose love is not mere vapor
burning in the sun.
But the One whose love burns the sky
gentle as a lamb
more fearsome than the darkness
There is no aptness
no words
no ritual
no saving grace
except for what You have given.
This body will continue to fail
and my words ring about in this room empty,
curses lifted in vain
against myself
against You
and whoever else who tries to help.
I lack words to speak
as I gasp for air
to weak now to scream.
I whisper in the dark,
I wonder where you are.
I can't scream
and my throat aches from the sores
of a lifetime spent lost
but here You are.
The smells of death and decay
and the rotting piles of trash around me.
The dark smiles at me,
smirks I recognize as my own.
Whispers of finality
that is my own voice.
I am but not alone.
More then this pain
and finality is You.
Jesus, bless me so I can move.
My tongue is full of venom
and has crafted so much deceit.
The blood continues to flow out
and I beg for Your touch once more.
The medication blocks the pain
but the disease of sin still festers.
Kiss the sparrow and come back to my side.
You see the fields of flowers
but I only see me.
There is a world diseased and dying
but here I am.
Please find me here.
Forget me not.
Forgive me for my doubt
and the gods that are my pain.
I don't understand.
My mind become more clouded
pain more intense.
I don't want to be saved,
I want to be yours.
I speak contradiction
and have my life engraved in stone.
It seems like the view of a sea.
White sands and eternal oceans.
My weakness and hate evident.
The tears I shed are for myself.
I've never remembered another
or cared to help give my abundance.
It is self.
No why or how.
No rhyme or reason.
Just this shattered heart
feeling lungs collapse.
Feeling the pain in my stomach build
for no reason.
Can we go alone,
just You and I?
Could You carry me to distant shores
although You have already died?
Can you carry the weight of my sins
and the weight of this dead body?
Can you carry me through eternity
and wipe away every tear?
Will you please save me,
Savior?
Redeemer?
Your cross is horrifying in its beauty.
Undying love at the price of a life.
My pride, my lust and my ambition
the hammers that drove nails
and here I lay on this mountain
covered in the dirt of this worlds triteness.
I feel the cold piercing my bones.
The fever of endless dreams
while waiting on this mountain side.
I wait while my faith breathes its last
and my body longs to give in with one last sigh
so please do not forget me Father.
Do not leave me here
rotting in my shame.
Ιησού Χριστού
Χριστέ μου, σωτήρας, με σώσεις.
Για τον λόγο σας, την ομορφιά σας.
Αποθήκευση μου.
Καθαρίζονται με το αίμα μου,
πλύνετε την ψυχή μου καθαρή.
Πατέρα, πατέρα μου.
Αγάπη μου με τον τρόπο που μόνο εσείς μπορείτε.
Είμαι κλάμα για την αγάπη σας
και μόνο εσείς μπορείτε να με σώσεις.
Θα ξεχάσουμε αυτές τις λέξεις
αλλά ποτέ δεν μου επιτρέπει να ξεχνάμε
η αγάπη σου για μένα.
Ιησού Χριστού,
σώσεις.
Για τον λόγο σας, την ομορφιά σας.
Αποθήκευση μου.
Καθαρίζονται με το αίμα μου,
πλύνετε την ψυχή μου καθαρή.
Πατέρα, πατέρα μου.
Αγάπη μου με τον τρόπο που μόνο εσείς μπορείτε.
Είμαι κλάμα για την αγάπη σας
και μόνο εσείς μπορείτε να με σώσεις.
Θα ξεχάσουμε αυτές τις λέξεις
αλλά ποτέ δεν μου επιτρέπει να ξεχνάμε
η αγάπη σου για μένα.
Ιησού Χριστού,
σώσεις.
Friday, April 10, 2009
"Every New Day" - Five Iron Frenzy
When I was young, the smallest trick of light,
Could catch my eye,
Then life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for,
And I hoped for things unseen,
I had wings and dreams could soar,
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
Watered Heaven with their tears,
Before words were spoken,
Before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
When I was small, the furthest I could reach,
Was not so high,
Then I thought the world was so much smaller,
Feeling that I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
Behind infinity,
Below the face of Heaven,
He stoops to create me.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
Man versus himself.
Man versus machine.
Man versus the world.
Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on,
The wisdom I lack,
The burdens keep piling
Up on my back.
So hard to breathe,
To take the next step.
The mountain is high,
I wait in the depths.
Yearning for grace,
And hoping for peace.
Dear God...
Increase.
Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition,
without a beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever Yours,
Only You can make every new day seem so new.
Could catch my eye,
Then life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for,
And I hoped for things unseen,
I had wings and dreams could soar,
I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
Watered Heaven with their tears,
Before words were spoken,
Before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
When I was small, the furthest I could reach,
Was not so high,
Then I thought the world was so much smaller,
Feeling that I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
Behind infinity,
Below the face of Heaven,
He stoops to create me.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
Man versus himself.
Man versus machine.
Man versus the world.
Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on,
The wisdom I lack,
The burdens keep piling
Up on my back.
So hard to breathe,
To take the next step.
The mountain is high,
I wait in the depths.
Yearning for grace,
And hoping for peace.
Dear God...
Increase.
Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition,
without a beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever Yours,
Only You can make every new day seem so new.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Sing For Tomorrow Burns
With every revolving relentless cycle
this stagnation is quickened.
Every breath brings another pain
another in a lengthy list of offenses.
Actuality ceases to bring meaning
in this cancer and never ending sickness,
with every broken heart harkened
to return to life abandoning sleep.
Poisoned veins empty onto ground
glisten in half truths
fooling only the self,
breathing life into the dumbfound.
Awaken at long lost from slumber
on this final day.
All of our meaning becomes crystallized
when all will be seen,
the sky rolled up like a curtain
and the defective exposed in their flaws
and the casting down of the demonized.
Speaking their madness no more
they will be bound eternally
to torment no more
and those freed by the shed blood
of the One
will be made whole,
freed from this final disease.
The cancer of soul.
No more heartbreak.
No more sin.
No more casting about within.
No more trite metaphor.
No more false pretension.
Only one way of salvation.
Only freedom.
this stagnation is quickened.
Every breath brings another pain
another in a lengthy list of offenses.
Actuality ceases to bring meaning
in this cancer and never ending sickness,
with every broken heart harkened
to return to life abandoning sleep.
Poisoned veins empty onto ground
glisten in half truths
fooling only the self,
breathing life into the dumbfound.
Awaken at long lost from slumber
on this final day.
All of our meaning becomes crystallized
when all will be seen,
the sky rolled up like a curtain
and the defective exposed in their flaws
and the casting down of the demonized.
Speaking their madness no more
they will be bound eternally
to torment no more
and those freed by the shed blood
of the One
will be made whole,
freed from this final disease.
The cancer of soul.
No more heartbreak.
No more sin.
No more casting about within.
No more trite metaphor.
No more false pretension.
Only one way of salvation.
Only freedom.
Better Words Needed
You certainly know how to make one smile,
thanks a million for everything
and you help make it all worthwhile.
Even deeply within this dark circle
never knowing what is next
always knowing there is an angel
on my side aiding the vexed.
Words never offer substance
sincere enough to give life
to all these fleeting thoughts
about your aide in fighting this trite
and excuse filled life.
thanks a million for everything
and you help make it all worthwhile.
Even deeply within this dark circle
never knowing what is next
always knowing there is an angel
on my side aiding the vexed.
Words never offer substance
sincere enough to give life
to all these fleeting thoughts
about your aide in fighting this trite
and excuse filled life.
Numerous Tangets...
I keep having these really vivid dreams...I just woke up again...it was me being back at school...it's hard to phrase everything because it is really so silly...and I don't like looking utterly ridiculous...even on here...I can only be myself to so much of a degree before I start feeling so...exo-outside of this skin and body...and the dream was vivid enough and incorporated a few dozen people I knew from back Mobile and high school.
I'm not sure dreams mean anything other then the fact they are random neurological impulses firing through the brain...and trying to make sense of a human is impossible...as impossible as track the quantum mechanics that govern the sub atomic particles and their little dances through the infinite void of which matter consists of.
Well make sense of them in the sense that I'm tired of being in this isolation, this exile of such.
The more time a person spends outside of REAL community the more dehumanized they become...the less they are capable of their true purpose and of becoming who they are. Whether we like it or not we need other people to realize who we are...oddity that it is.
I'm not sure dreams mean anything other then the fact they are random neurological impulses firing through the brain...and trying to make sense of a human is impossible...as impossible as track the quantum mechanics that govern the sub atomic particles and their little dances through the infinite void of which matter consists of.
Well make sense of them in the sense that I'm tired of being in this isolation, this exile of such.
The more time a person spends outside of REAL community the more dehumanized they become...the less they are capable of their true purpose and of becoming who they are. Whether we like it or not we need other people to realize who we are...oddity that it is.
Distant Yet Close, Far Away But Near
Being lost in this labyrinth of my mind for so long...I've ignored so many well meaning friends, people who have done more then their fair share of trying to help me...all the while I have wondered lost and bitter in my own world. This medicated haze broken only by a few rays of sunlight that burn so much.
It is almost like trying to learn to be human again.
I've forgotten what compassion looks like, that love is not just a ludicrous human emotion conjured by futile attempts to give meaning to an otherwise meaningless life and that hope, dear God hope is not just real but it is this fire that burns in my heart...and that You, only You can make my heart beat twice as fast whenever you draw near.
I can't pretend to have a special clarity or that somehow I have found something no one else has...just that I run myself into the ground every day and lay here in shambles and even thought I curse the day as being night...there is more hope and life than I can scarcely hope to believe in.
When will this end?
Friday maybe. It could easily go either way, I may die today or Friday or in another hospital in twenty years. God knows I don't know at all and do not need to know.
I've stumbled through life and have been dragged along for most of it and here I am at another threshold. It feels like the day I woke up in Mobile and I had graduation in a few hours. John was kind enough to stay with me, drive me around so I could find some dress shoes that were overpriced and then drop off at the civic center for graduation.
Some friends are just so good you don't deserve them, especially when you tend to act as a pompus know it all that is laughing at the joke that the rest of the world hasn't gotten yet.
And yet, there is still love. It's amazing how clarity makes everything more beautiful and painful at the same time...sort of like finally getting to breath again after holding your breath for what feels like an eternity, like waking from a nightmare to find yourself in bed or to finally be able to walk again after being so drugged up you can't get yourself off the bathroom floor and you have to crawl to your bed and hope you don't throw up again...this release of bondage, this breaking of the chains tying you down, having your spirit freed so you can fly and run to freedom.
It's all this and more...it's impossible to put into words because every metaphor is full of inadequacy.
Screams in the night being replace by sobs being replaced by gasps for air and finally laying there realizing everything you've wasted life on was worthless but oh the beauty, the clarity of knowing that it doesn't matter because love can rescue you at your last moments of life and that the blood already spent is enough to cover over the world's monuments to sin.
It's something not here yet but it is coming, something seemingly impossible but nearly tangible, feelings beyond consideration but grounded in this moment and place and time.
It is here, it is there, it is coming but has always been here even though we just haven't seen him.
It's every moment of my life played back at fast speed, rewinding to show every step I have taken and the thousands I have came into contact with and those whose faces I know but whose names I can't remember. Seeing the pain and loss of innocence painted on walls as murals and warnings for the horror show of life...but still the undercurrent of hope that rips the air from your lungs because the joy is so beautiful, so complete and so without end.
How wonderful, how beautiful, new forever and world without end.
It is almost like trying to learn to be human again.
I've forgotten what compassion looks like, that love is not just a ludicrous human emotion conjured by futile attempts to give meaning to an otherwise meaningless life and that hope, dear God hope is not just real but it is this fire that burns in my heart...and that You, only You can make my heart beat twice as fast whenever you draw near.
I can't pretend to have a special clarity or that somehow I have found something no one else has...just that I run myself into the ground every day and lay here in shambles and even thought I curse the day as being night...there is more hope and life than I can scarcely hope to believe in.
When will this end?
Friday maybe. It could easily go either way, I may die today or Friday or in another hospital in twenty years. God knows I don't know at all and do not need to know.
I've stumbled through life and have been dragged along for most of it and here I am at another threshold. It feels like the day I woke up in Mobile and I had graduation in a few hours. John was kind enough to stay with me, drive me around so I could find some dress shoes that were overpriced and then drop off at the civic center for graduation.
Some friends are just so good you don't deserve them, especially when you tend to act as a pompus know it all that is laughing at the joke that the rest of the world hasn't gotten yet.
And yet, there is still love. It's amazing how clarity makes everything more beautiful and painful at the same time...sort of like finally getting to breath again after holding your breath for what feels like an eternity, like waking from a nightmare to find yourself in bed or to finally be able to walk again after being so drugged up you can't get yourself off the bathroom floor and you have to crawl to your bed and hope you don't throw up again...this release of bondage, this breaking of the chains tying you down, having your spirit freed so you can fly and run to freedom.
It's all this and more...it's impossible to put into words because every metaphor is full of inadequacy.
Screams in the night being replace by sobs being replaced by gasps for air and finally laying there realizing everything you've wasted life on was worthless but oh the beauty, the clarity of knowing that it doesn't matter because love can rescue you at your last moments of life and that the blood already spent is enough to cover over the world's monuments to sin.
It's something not here yet but it is coming, something seemingly impossible but nearly tangible, feelings beyond consideration but grounded in this moment and place and time.
It is here, it is there, it is coming but has always been here even though we just haven't seen him.
It's every moment of my life played back at fast speed, rewinding to show every step I have taken and the thousands I have came into contact with and those whose faces I know but whose names I can't remember. Seeing the pain and loss of innocence painted on walls as murals and warnings for the horror show of life...but still the undercurrent of hope that rips the air from your lungs because the joy is so beautiful, so complete and so without end.
How wonderful, how beautiful, new forever and world without end.
Life and Grieving
I do not function well around people that are mentally retarded. Partly it is because my older sister has a small disability that developed because of oxygen deprivation when she was younger and ever since then she has had trouble learning...she wanted to go to college but wasn't able to...so instead so works at the same place my mom does (Blue Cross and Blue Shield) in the mail department.
I say that to bring up a part of my high school experience. When I started doing weekly Wednesday morning meetings at school there was always one guy who would always show up, regardless of whether or not anyone else did (including my close circle of friends) a guy named Thomas, who had a severe mental disability. When he was a young child he had drank some sort of cleaner and it almost killed him and so he had trouble talking at times but he had this ridiculously strong faith that he always shared with those around him and more often then not made me realize how shallow mine is.
It hurt to see him, to talk to him and hear him speak because it showed my own inability...my pride, my addiction to attention...how I needed people to pay attention to 'my' message...and it's not like Thomas realized what he was doing...to him it was just as natural as knowing when to leave class because of a bell ringing.
Anyway...like I said, he would always be there on Wednesday mornings, regardless. We were in the same grade as well. I don't know how he could understand the love of Christ except to say that he saw Jesus face to face in a way I barely understand and don't think I'll ever understand. No matter how hard I've tried to stop this I can't help but try to measure my success by quantity and how many people were at any given meeting or heard me speak...just this part of me that isn't bad necessarily but a part of me that misses the entire point at the same time.
The last time I saw Thomas was in the spring of 2007, the night before my grandmother's funeral, at the wake. He was brought there with the grandmother of a cousin of mine who use to be my best friend. I have never dealt with the loss of my grandmother and still keep trying to repress it and hold things back...the grief terrifies me...but of all the things I remember about that horrifying week was Thomas and my cousins grandmother coming up to me. The little old lady hugged me and like most southern ladies had this air of understanding about her...and I can't remember what she said but I do remember what happened next. Thomas, who is almost as tall as I am, walked up to me and hugged me and said that he was sorry...but everything would be okay because my grandmother was with Jesus right then.
I have no idea how I held myself together and didn't break down sobbing right there...but I did. I honestly hate when people talk about death and Jesus. I don't want to hear about how she or my dad is 'with Jesus'. I've never been good at dealing with loss of any kind...of having parts of me just ripped away...its a feeling that I think may be universal but tangible and paramount only to those at any moment of time...in other words we all may know what this feeling is like but it is a burden a person has to suffer through alone and something they can't be helped through. They have to choose to walk forward or allow the grief to smother them.
There is only so much we can know and that we can learn about life...but here we are. Belief and faith are not as much as something a person can choose...but He finds you...and will not let you stay where you are...and once you are His, He won't let go...no matter how hard you fight to hang onto these scraps of a life that no longer have any meaning.
Luckily blessings aren't just for the ones who kneel.
Luckily.
I say that to bring up a part of my high school experience. When I started doing weekly Wednesday morning meetings at school there was always one guy who would always show up, regardless of whether or not anyone else did (including my close circle of friends) a guy named Thomas, who had a severe mental disability. When he was a young child he had drank some sort of cleaner and it almost killed him and so he had trouble talking at times but he had this ridiculously strong faith that he always shared with those around him and more often then not made me realize how shallow mine is.
It hurt to see him, to talk to him and hear him speak because it showed my own inability...my pride, my addiction to attention...how I needed people to pay attention to 'my' message...and it's not like Thomas realized what he was doing...to him it was just as natural as knowing when to leave class because of a bell ringing.
Anyway...like I said, he would always be there on Wednesday mornings, regardless. We were in the same grade as well. I don't know how he could understand the love of Christ except to say that he saw Jesus face to face in a way I barely understand and don't think I'll ever understand. No matter how hard I've tried to stop this I can't help but try to measure my success by quantity and how many people were at any given meeting or heard me speak...just this part of me that isn't bad necessarily but a part of me that misses the entire point at the same time.
The last time I saw Thomas was in the spring of 2007, the night before my grandmother's funeral, at the wake. He was brought there with the grandmother of a cousin of mine who use to be my best friend. I have never dealt with the loss of my grandmother and still keep trying to repress it and hold things back...the grief terrifies me...but of all the things I remember about that horrifying week was Thomas and my cousins grandmother coming up to me. The little old lady hugged me and like most southern ladies had this air of understanding about her...and I can't remember what she said but I do remember what happened next. Thomas, who is almost as tall as I am, walked up to me and hugged me and said that he was sorry...but everything would be okay because my grandmother was with Jesus right then.
I have no idea how I held myself together and didn't break down sobbing right there...but I did. I honestly hate when people talk about death and Jesus. I don't want to hear about how she or my dad is 'with Jesus'. I've never been good at dealing with loss of any kind...of having parts of me just ripped away...its a feeling that I think may be universal but tangible and paramount only to those at any moment of time...in other words we all may know what this feeling is like but it is a burden a person has to suffer through alone and something they can't be helped through. They have to choose to walk forward or allow the grief to smother them.
There is only so much we can know and that we can learn about life...but here we are. Belief and faith are not as much as something a person can choose...but He finds you...and will not let you stay where you are...and once you are His, He won't let go...no matter how hard you fight to hang onto these scraps of a life that no longer have any meaning.
Luckily blessings aren't just for the ones who kneel.
Luckily.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
"Far, Far Away" - Five Iron Frenzy
Staring at the shoreline
wishing for some hope
the weight of empty fishing nets
is more than twisted rope
And underneath stern faces
they wait with baited breath
with broken hearts from hoping
while casting out their nets
See the figure on the shore
He speaks His words like plain men sing
His hands they still have holes in them
glory to the King
Can you hear the bells are ringing
far, far, away?
Can you hear the voices singing
far, far, away?
I know that one day soon a song shall rise
you’ll hear it with the sleep still in your eyes
And Peter was a liar
a traitor just like me
and Judas was a hypocrite
and Paul a Pharisee
When truth can be so distant
and hope evades our reach
Peter swam across the water
and found it on the beach
Can you hear the bells are ringing
far, far, away?
Can you hear the voices singing
far, far, away?
I know that one day soon a song shall rise
you’ll hear it with the sleep still in your eyes
I hear they’ll hang you upside down
stretched across two boards
for hearing distant voices
and crossing to the Lord.
wishing for some hope
the weight of empty fishing nets
is more than twisted rope
And underneath stern faces
they wait with baited breath
with broken hearts from hoping
while casting out their nets
See the figure on the shore
He speaks His words like plain men sing
His hands they still have holes in them
glory to the King
Can you hear the bells are ringing
far, far, away?
Can you hear the voices singing
far, far, away?
I know that one day soon a song shall rise
you’ll hear it with the sleep still in your eyes
And Peter was a liar
a traitor just like me
and Judas was a hypocrite
and Paul a Pharisee
When truth can be so distant
and hope evades our reach
Peter swam across the water
and found it on the beach
Can you hear the bells are ringing
far, far, away?
Can you hear the voices singing
far, far, away?
I know that one day soon a song shall rise
you’ll hear it with the sleep still in your eyes
I hear they’ll hang you upside down
stretched across two boards
for hearing distant voices
and crossing to the Lord.
Excerpt from 'The Screwtape Letters' by C.S. Lewis
"Work hard, then, on the disappointment or anticlimax which is certainly coming to the patient during his first few weeks as a churchman. The Enemy allows this disappointment to occur on the threshold of every human endeavor. It occurs when the boy who has been enchanted in the nursery by Stories from the Odyssey buckles down to really learning Greek. it occurs when lovers have got married and begin the real task of learning to live together. In every department of life it marks the transition from dreaming aspiration to laborious doing. The Enemy takes this risk because He has a curious fantasy of making all these disgusting little human vermin into what He calls His 'free' lovers and servants - 'sons' is the word He uses, with His inveterate love of degrading the whole spiritual world by unnatural liaisons with the two-legged animals.
Desiring their freedom, He therefore refuses to carry them, by their mere affections and habits, to any of the goals which He sets before them: He leaves them to 'do it on their own'. And there lies our opportunity. But also, remember, there lies our danger. If once they get through this initial dryness successfully, they become much less dependent on emotion and therefore much harder to tempt."
-Screwtape
Desiring their freedom, He therefore refuses to carry them, by their mere affections and habits, to any of the goals which He sets before them: He leaves them to 'do it on their own'. And there lies our opportunity. But also, remember, there lies our danger. If once they get through this initial dryness successfully, they become much less dependent on emotion and therefore much harder to tempt."
-Screwtape
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