tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53413875524366520402024-02-07T15:27:51.429-05:00NECO DRACONESFirst thing we do is kill all the dragons.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.comBlogger365125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-51334229436462241792012-10-02T22:04:00.002-04:002012-10-02T22:04:45.223-04:00Moved and Renamed<div class="zemanta-img" style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://commons.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Mayflower_moving_truck.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="A moving truck operated by Piedmont Moving Sys..." border="0" class="zemanta-img-inserted" height="225" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/37/Mayflower_moving_truck.JPG/300px-Mayflower_moving_truck.JPG" style="border: medium none; font-size: 0.8em;" width="300" /></a></div>
So...I haven't really posted much here for over a year. Long story.<br />
<br />
Anyhow, I have tentatively started up again in a different place with a different name. Long story.<br />
<br />
If you care to follow along, you will now find me at <a href="http://necatdraco.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Necat Draco.</a><br />
<br />
You guessed it. Long story. <br />
<div class="zemanta-pixie" style="height: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<a class="zemanta-pixie-a" href="http://www.zemanta.com/?px" title="Enhanced by Zemanta"><img alt="Enhanced by Zemanta" class="zemanta-pixie-img" src="http://img.zemanta.com/zemified_e.png?x-id=95f72a4e-27c2-4072-a148-1c1c7d5c0fdb" style="border: none; float: right;" /></a></div>
Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-24452971459121491462011-08-10T22:07:00.000-04:002011-08-10T22:07:39.115-04:00The Ultimate Materialist<blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJn-52yf59xPkwOWgAtEP2nM5CJS0q8xgMtmUXG8v5HCBxe_ki5WFlKQVIGNNY4rBGHXjdzCSkCaJ31-Gvx98UvEOXkls8coGSBdhmFz95fFGE5KPTJgTzgQgWUIQV3VmEAMy7OANisjf/s1600/883940_52131690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJn-52yf59xPkwOWgAtEP2nM5CJS0q8xgMtmUXG8v5HCBxe_ki5WFlKQVIGNNY4rBGHXjdzCSkCaJ31-Gvx98UvEOXkls8coGSBdhmFz95fFGE5KPTJgTzgQgWUIQV3VmEAMy7OANisjf/s320/883940_52131690.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><i></i></blockquote><br />
<blockquote><i>There is a habit that plagues many so-called spiritual minds: they imagine that matter and spirit are somehow at odds with each other and that the right course for human life is to escape from the world of matter into some finer and purer (and undoubtedly duller) realm. To me, that is a crashing mistake -- and it is, above all, a theological mistake. Because, in fact, it was God who invented dirt, onions, and turnip greens; God who invented human beings, and their strange compulsion to cook their food; God who, at the end of each day of creation, pronounced a resounding "Good!" over his own concoctions. And it is God's unrelenting love of all the stuff of this world that keeps it in being at every moment. So, if we are fascinated, even intoxicated, by matter, it is no surprise: we are made in the image of the Ultimate Materialist</i>. </blockquote><br />
From the "Preface to the Second and Third Edition" of <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=pAeX63TJgvgC&printsec=frontcover&dq=supper+of+the+lamb&hl=en&ei=GjlDTpa2LOLb0QGewPnACQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CDkQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false"><u>The Supper of the Lamb</u></a> by Robert Farrar Capon. <br />
<br />
<br />
Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-894253101204363882011-08-01T09:22:00.000-04:002011-08-01T09:22:51.343-04:00Demanding and RigorousFrom a <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/31/opinion/sunday/kristof-evangelicals-without-blowhards.html?_r=1&src=me&ref=general">New York Times column by Nicholas D. Kristof. </a><br />
<br />
<i>Centuries ago, serious religious study was extraordinarily demanding and rigorous; in contrast, anyone could declare himself a scientist and go in the business of, say, alchemy. These days, it’s the reverse. A Ph.D. in chemistry is a rigorous degree, while a preacher can explain the Bible on television without mastering Hebrew or Greek — or even showing interest in the nuances of the original texts. </i><br />
<br />
Hmmm...Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-35767455449791258502011-07-31T10:51:00.000-04:002011-07-31T10:51:43.254-04:00We'll SeeParents are deep wells of wisdom.<br />
<br />
That fact seems to usually go unrecognized until the children themselves are in the parent stage. I have found that even though I certainly gave lip service to my mother's wisdom, as I move down the slippery slope -- getting within spitting distance now of the AARP -- I see it more clearly.<br />
<br />
As a child I would ask my Mom if we could do something in the future. "Can we go to Benson's Animal Farm this summer?" "Can we go to the beach next week?"<br />
<br />
Her inevitable answer would be "We'll see."<br />
<br />
It was a source of great frustration for me. Yes or no. "We'll see" just did not cut it.<br />
<br />
Now I watch the check and balance action going back and forth between Congress, Senate and the Executive Branch of the federal government. Competing theories of what needs doing and how to do it -- mow it all down or just a little pruning here and there. Competing theories of what will happen -- total apocalypse or a slight bump in the road.<br />
<br />
And no news outlet seems to be able to actually explain the issues. They are great on the play by play, (Boehner jabs, he weaves, Obama with a right cross, and OH! Boehner lands a solid blow to the kidneys. Obama shakes it off...) but no one seem to be able to clarify the issues at hand.<br />
<br />
So...I find myself, like my Mom, just watching it all and saying..."Well -- we'll see."<br />
<br />
Wisdom. I see it now.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-50522774827501997922011-04-24T08:39:00.000-04:002011-04-24T08:39:07.270-04:00Xristos Anesti<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOJs9UR5pnouSm10R_yFdiPrFYIVMQiEq_CRV-gRTVWK7z4N9vmCjSRt87JRIuMaQ-r87QcOY5Mvox1vzCj8qBH6-JAQV7MYO7dQiqQD6x6KAzh0cf4rjNbANeTVAtL_UsLet9Vt1Ot4u/s1600/046_resurrection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOJs9UR5pnouSm10R_yFdiPrFYIVMQiEq_CRV-gRTVWK7z4N9vmCjSRt87JRIuMaQ-r87QcOY5Mvox1vzCj8qBH6-JAQV7MYO7dQiqQD6x6KAzh0cf4rjNbANeTVAtL_UsLet9Vt1Ot4u/s400/046_resurrection.jpg" width="308" /></a></div>Jesus lives, and so shall I.<br />
Death! thy sting is gone forever,<br />
He who deigned for me to die,<br />
Lives, the bands of death to sever.<br />
He shall raise me with the just:<br />
Jesus is my Hope and Trust.<br />
<br />
<br />
Jesus lives and reigns supreme;<br />
And, His kingdom still remaining;<br />
I shall also be with Him,<br />
Ever living, ever reigning.<br />
God has promised: be it must;<br />
Jesus is my Hope and Trust.<br />
<br />
<br />
Jesus lives, I know full well,<br />
Naught from Him my heart can sever,<br />
Life nor death nor powers of hell,<br />
Joy nor grief, henceforth forever.<br />
None of all His saints is lost;<br />
Jesus is my Hope and Trust.<br />
<br />
<br />
Jesus lives, and death is now<br />
But my entrance into glory.<br />
Courage, then, my soul, for thou<br />
Hast a crown of life before thee;<br />
Thou shalt find thy hopes were just;<br />
Jesus Christ, our hope and trust..Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-40290945414466988972011-04-22T22:12:00.000-04:002011-04-22T22:12:47.964-04:00Triduum<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</style> <![endif]--> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3CFkr9uaUhbQ_eKwQwnEhpfIADtcgZO1E9jtgiDt7DPrIkymnqWs110Yk9YqvmDGoGWwDvOaOP-voxQGQVCEffgQPmb3NgwG_ZA3CisziNHMLBZYgqDqbnZ6cfOZjcXla4POLigUbdo2/s1600/crucifix+icon+coptic.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3CFkr9uaUhbQ_eKwQwnEhpfIADtcgZO1E9jtgiDt7DPrIkymnqWs110Yk9YqvmDGoGWwDvOaOP-voxQGQVCEffgQPmb3NgwG_ZA3CisziNHMLBZYgqDqbnZ6cfOZjcXla4POLigUbdo2/s400/crucifix+icon+coptic.gif" width="400" /></a></div>Alas! and did my Savior bleed<br />
And did my Sovereign die?<br />
Would He devote that sacred head<br />
For such a worm as I?<br />
<br />
Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, Thine—<br />
And bathed in its own blood—<br />
While the firm mark of wrath divine,<br />
His Soul in anguish stood.<br />
<br />
Was it for crimes that I had done<br />
He groaned upon the tree?<br />
Amazing pity! grace unknown!<br />
And love beyond degree!<br />
<br />
Well might the sun in darkness hide<br />
And shut his glories in,<br />
When Christ, the mighty Maker died,<br />
For man the creature’s sin.<br />
<br />
Thus might I hide my blushing face<br />
While His dear cross appears,<br />
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,<br />
And melt my eyes to tears.<br />
<br />
But drops of grief can ne’er repay<br />
The debt of love I owe:<br />
Here, Lord, I give my self away<br />
’Tis all that I can do.<br />
<br />
<i>-- Isaac Watts </i>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-37092459680990099622011-03-03T22:17:00.002-05:002011-03-04T09:17:37.085-05:00Not Like the Movies...My wife knows.<br />
<br />
When we are watching a movie, she knows that the minute they show someone paddling a canoe, I will tense up. Clearly I want to say something, but I am holding back. She knows that I want to complain about how Natalie Portman can study ballet for a year to play the lead in Black Swan, but the producer of this film apparently can't spare $30 to hire some summer camp recreation director for 1/2 hour to teach his lead actors how to properly paddle a canoe. She knows that my barely suppressed rage at this travesty is only surpassed by my knowledge that she has forbidden me to speak on the subject ever again. Ever.<br />
<br />
That's what happens when you rant one too many times, I guess.<br />
<br />
It's just that it jars me out of my willing suspension of disbelief when the supposedly woodscrafty hero, a man wise and skilled in the ways of making his way through the wilderness can't even paddle a gosh darn canoe straight without switching sides every 3 strokes and getting water in the boat to boot. Drives me up a wall.<br />
<br />
The movies just can't seem to get the details right. <br />
<br />
In the same way, it seems that neither script writers, nor directors nor any actor seems to be able to get the portrayal of religious belief right on the screen. It seems lately that almost every time some religious thread is introduced into a story, something about the way it plays just seems off. It seems off in almost the same way as when you are trying to speak to someone with eyes that point two different directions. All the pieces of the face are there, but it's all just far enough off the mark to make the result disconcerting.<br />
<br />
I can understand how this can happen. If you have never had an authentic religious experience, if you have not had extensive firsthand familiar with the religious subculture and the <u>real </u>people that live it, or even more importantly if you do not respect religious folk enough to look past the surface, it is almost a given that the result will tend more to caricature than to characterization. To authentically portray such people, you may not need to be one of them, but you must have a certain sympathy and certainly a real familiarity with them as people. Otherwise your dialogue will never rise above a ragtag collection of religious cliches. I watch these plays and the words jar me in the same way as a poorly paddled canoe. <br />
<br />
I recently viewed a video on youtube that comes from a completely opposite pole. In our film, television, books and stories, missionaries are mostly vilified. They are presented variously as cultural imperialists, deluded naifs, or corrupt powermongers, just to name a few options. Quick. Do an inventory of all the films and stories you have viewed which include missionaries. How many actually treat the missionary with any type of real respect or seriousness? Include pastors and priests in that mix. <br />
<br />
I know missionaries. I grew up with missionaries. The fact is that they are real people who are seeking to live out their real faith in direct confrontation with a real world. The most important thing, beyond all else, is that they help the people to whom they go. As people, they are just as susceptible to all human stumblings. Nevertheless, in so many cases the work they do is highly valued by the people with whom they choose to live and love and help. <br />
<br />
This youtube video struck me because it takes the viewpoint of the people <u><b>helped </b></u>by christian missionaries. And not just in terms of medical care, agricultural training or food relief. No, these people are joyful from the deepest place and grateful to the missionaries for the MESSAGE that has been brought to them. There is no acting, no mediating by writers or directors to dilute the genuine joy with which these people greet the coming of God's Word in their language to their people.<br />
<br />
It seems to me that the testimony of these people is worth far more than that of most filmmakers and TV producers. <br />
<br />
In fairness, I have to point out that the people aren't rejoicing over the missionaries. But they are certainly rejoicing over the gift the missionaries have brought to them. I suspect that this type of occurrence is more common than we know. It should be shown on Nightline, 60 Minutes, and 20/20 more often, but it doesn't really align with the popular understanding of how the work of missionaries are received by the people to whom they minister. <br />
<br />
It's just not like in the movies.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/w9dpmp_-TY0" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-43023548701236822562011-02-18T00:02:00.000-05:002011-02-18T00:02:07.761-05:00The Plowmen by Robert FrostA plow, they say, to plow the snow.<br />
They cannot mean to plant it, no--<br />
Unless in bitterness to mock<br />
At having cultivated rock.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-83925514245629415192011-02-17T23:43:00.000-05:002011-02-17T23:43:36.176-05:00To All Those Plow Guys...You Know Who You Are...Well, it's been a hard winter here in NH.<br />
<br />
I have fence posts out front that I still can barely see the tops of, even though the snow has settled some. Much more, and the snow on the lawn will be higher than my deck. I have formed a technique of inching the nose of my car just barely out into the road on the theory that the car that I can't see for the 6 foot snowbanks will just glance off my left fender to let me know that the coast is not clear.<br />
<br />
Of course, it's a little tricky when the driveway is icy...it requires a bit of a running start to make it up the slight slope. It's gung ho and pray it's a Ford Fiesta and not an F250 with a new butterfly plow blade.<br />
<br />
Every snowstorm takes me about 4 hours to clear out. No snow blower here and no cash to hire a plow. Then there's ice dams on the roof. And digging out the mailbox so the mail carrier can make his appointed rounds. While sleet and snow may not prevent him, apparently 4 feet of solidly impacted ice crystals will.<br />
<br />
Then there's the weeks of temps around the zero mark, and lower. Makes the woodpile go down fast. Nothing better than hopping into a hot shower after getting all sweaty hauling wood up to the house when it's 10 below. That is, if you have enough heating oil in the tank to run the furnace. Having to run down to the gas station to pick up some off-road diesel every 5 days or so gives one a real appreciation for hot water.<br />
<br />
Like I said, it's been a tough winter.<br />
<br />
Last year (or was it two years ago) some local folks went all viral with a video spoofing a pop/rap song thing but all about NH. They just came out with a new one, a tribute to those intrepid and unsung (until now) heroes of the NH economy. They are working hard, and many are having a mighty good year.<br />
<br />
Let's give it up for the plow guys.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9Yy8o1BeFaA" title="YouTube video player" width="640"></iframe>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-69022468788470525532010-12-25T13:45:00.000-05:002010-12-25T13:45:24.722-05:00Dangerous Babies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSbZtO7udhjvSQgfoB4CoLXiVe0nHiN0Ug673-5HfAJuwCk8y4DaCS92Npzz0NMyt6PvfBjQblgLqpyjdv7LsbPWt9j1aGBQi9lVQvQx1nW-DPgG2LVFmCUMDsOSj4muVmH32VWPGPM2HK/s1600/NATIVITY+GUSTAVE+DORE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSbZtO7udhjvSQgfoB4CoLXiVe0nHiN0Ug673-5HfAJuwCk8y4DaCS92Npzz0NMyt6PvfBjQblgLqpyjdv7LsbPWt9j1aGBQi9lVQvQx1nW-DPgG2LVFmCUMDsOSj4muVmH32VWPGPM2HK/s320/NATIVITY+GUSTAVE+DORE.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>A cooing newborn baby is much less dangerous looking than a man who bursts from a tomb alive after being dead for three days. We "get" babies. Babies are commonplace, and they speak to us of the best that we can be, full of promise and innocence. Dead men who stand up and walk out of graves alive again most certainly upset the normal order of things. Such men threaten to overturn everything. They are dangerous and we really don't like them. Unlike babies, The Resurrected are scary. <br />
<br />
Babies, by contrast, seem tame. The problems is that we want to keep the baby as a baby, ignoring the danger inherent within. The baby in the feeding trough may look like any other baby, but it requires a baby of a different kind to become The Resurrected. If we look deeper, we find that the baby is just the beachhead of the Great Invasion. He is not tame at all. He is a dangerous baby. <br />
<br />
This is why Christmas is so much more popular than Easter. It is easier to tame. In trying to tame it, however, we fail to make real sense of the reality of it. <br />
<br />
Ricky Bobby in Talledaga Nights merely channeled the zeitgeist when he said:<br />
<blockquote><i><span class="indquote_link">"Look, I like the Christmas Jesus best, and I'm sayin' grace. When you say grace, you can say it to Grownup Jesus or Teenage Jesus or Bearded Jesus or whoever you want...</span><span class="indquote_link"> I like the baby version the best, you hear me? I win the races and I get the money...</span><span class="indquote_link">Dear Tiny Jesus, in your golden fleece diapers with your tiny, little fat balled up fists..."</span></i></blockquote>As usual, <a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/decemberweb-only/151-42.0.html?start=1">N.T. Wright nails the problem in a recent article from Christianity Today.</a> He explains how<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=john%201&version=ESV"> the first paragraphs of John's Gospel </a>destroy any chance we might have of removing the sharp edges from the baby Jesus figurine. He urges us to "get real and get johanine" about the Christmas story. <br />
<blockquote> Unless we recognize this strange, dark strand running through the Gospel, we will domesticate John's masterpiece (just as we're always in danger of domesticating Christmas) and think it's only about comfort and joy. In truth, it's also about incomprehension, rejection, darkness, denial, stopped ears, and judgment. Christmas is not about the living God coming to tell us everything's all right. John's Gospel isn't about Jesus speaking the truth and everyone saying "Of course! Why didn't we realize it before?" It is about God shining his clear, bright torch into the darkness of our world, our lives, our hearts, our imaginations—and the darkness not comprehending it. It's about God, God as a little child, speaking words of truth, and nobody knowing what he's talking about.</blockquote>It is normal for the Dad to hand out cigars at the birth of his child. The family and friends celebrate, but the birth of a baby is hardly news. This baby, however -- this God in an Infant -- this is no ordinary child. Only because of this is the birth worth noting two millenia after the fact.<br />
<br />
<br />
In God's war on death, the birth of Jesus is only the first move of the ultimate strategy of redemption. It was Operation Incarnation. The birth only sets up the theater of operations for Operation Resurrection, which deals the death stroke to death itself. Revolutionary stuff. Revolutions inevitably involve the breaking of things and the overturning of apple carts. That's what the cooing baby was born to do.<br />
<br />
Like I said, dangerous. <br />
<br />
But it's a revolution of restoration. His breaking is fixing. His overturning is uprighting. It's no less disruptive, but when you disrupt chaos, what do you get? Peace. When you reverse suffering and sorrow, what are you left with? Joy. <br />
<br />
So whenever you look at that baby in the manger, hang on. It may look quiet, but he's a ticking time bomb that will blow everything to heaven.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-72566302000819801272010-12-12T00:45:00.003-05:002010-12-12T11:30:24.723-05:00Advent Meditation 2 - Prepare<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJGmXhUYEgPo97fD6qfi6NQt25ZctBAMIz4VwhRFRD6IxMRZT6IQ7XGhZGS4FiFq9-M-OzuWOGp8-nfPdbbWIPKwfW1LWkAykSAEg-YG8Mp1Rth3PkCB7qZUQolHnmX71Os71Gasp4Tkk/s1600/2+CANDLES+950561_81925589.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJGmXhUYEgPo97fD6qfi6NQt25ZctBAMIz4VwhRFRD6IxMRZT6IQ7XGhZGS4FiFq9-M-OzuWOGp8-nfPdbbWIPKwfW1LWkAykSAEg-YG8Mp1Rth3PkCB7qZUQolHnmX71Os71Gasp4Tkk/s200/2+CANDLES+950561_81925589.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>There’s a party coming and it’s time to get ready. <br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">At its best, getting ready for the party is almost as good as the party itself. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Clean the house. Set the table. Cook the food – fancy food, hearty food, plain or spicy. Just make sure there’s lots of it and it’s good. Oh, and remember to pull the best bottles from your cabinets and cellars, with lots of glasses and plenty of ice. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Take a bath, polish yourself up, and put on your goin’-to-the-party clothes. Smile and be happy and open the door. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The house will fill with chatter and laughter. The convivial spirit will rise as bellies fill and wine glasses empty. For a moment the ugliness of the world is held off outside the walls and inside you taste just a bit of heaven. It was finally worth all the work and worry of getting ready, because once the party is on, nothing else matters. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That’s how it’s supposed to work. But…that’s not always the case, is it? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Have you ever prepared for a party and found that the preparation was not fun at all? Have you ever been overtaken by “guest anxiety?” You work for hours, perhaps days, in a red mist of hospitality rage, trying to whip things into shape, and woe to the poor fool who gets in your way or fails to pitch in to help.It's a soul sucking madness that takes over the whole house and turn the rest of the family into zombie slaves in the thrall of the rabid hostess, made mad by her party planning psychosis.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sound familiar? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is what happens when the host begins to think that the point of the party is to prove what a great host she is. Instead of offering the party as an act of joyful love for the sake of your friends, the party becomes (in the mind of the host) the impending day of judgment -- and the judges are your guests. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is such an easy mistake to make because we love to make everything into a religion where we think that doing things just right will save us. We tell ourselves that its all for the guests, when in fact the guests are just an excuse to congratulate ourselves on what good hosts we are. We turn the party into a religion and in the process miss the whole point of the exercise.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now in the second week of Advent we prepare for the party we call Christmas. It's a pretty big deal, in case you haven't noticed. In this layer of the advent season we remember when Jesus was coming and look forward to when he will come again. His coming changes everything. So we prepare. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here is the question: What are we preparing for? The judgment? Or the Party?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Be careful how you answer. It’s a trick question really, because if you are preparing for judgment, if you think you are preparing to be good enough for the party, you can just forget it. It is simply impossible for us to perfectly clean the cobwebs out of every corner of our spiritual house. We can scrub and polish and sweep and wipe, but we can never banish the stains and dust of our fallen lives, but we can never really make it good enough for Jesus.The dirt is just too embedded. The walls too rotten. The carpet too shabby.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But that doesn’t mean that there’s no party, and it certainly doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t invite him in. On the contrary – that's exactly why we MUST invite him in. You see, <b>this is the Good News. </b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Jesus is the guest who, when he arrives, cleans the house for us – top to bottom. Jesus cleans our kitchen, shines our bathroom, scrubs the toilets, washes the floors and deep cleans the carpets. Jesus arranges the furniture, plumps the pillows, puts away all the scattered clothes, polishes the silver and straightens the pictures on the walls. When Jesus arrives he takes your house, and completely remakes it into the best house it could possibly be and then some – spotless, perfect and completely comfortable. Jesus is the original and better Extreme Makoever Home Edition. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Not only that, Jesus provides all the food. More than you could possibly eat, more kinds than you can possibly imagine and better than you ever thought it could be. Whatever food you might have to offer, even if it’s just meager loaves and dried fishes, he will take what you offer and make it into the most sumptuous meal you never imagined. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">With Jesus there is no dieting, no diabetes and certainly no anorexia. With Jesus if its feast time then it is time to feast! And when Jesus is in the house, you can bet no wine bottles will ever go empty. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is Gospel: Jesus brings his own party wherever he goes and nobody – but NOBODY -- throws a better one. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This too is Gospel: Jesus is both the best guest and the most host, all at the same time. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And this also is Gospel: he has invited you to your own party. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So get ready wontcha?.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Jesus has both come and is yet coming. We are both waiting (preparing) and enjoying his presence now. So prepare out of joyful overflowing love and in prescient thanksgiving. Forget fear and judgment – he has done away with it. Know that when our own preparations fall short (and they always do), Jesus makes up the difference, completely, joyfully, perfectly. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvgaD_wedfmyzI29z2jk677bk5xDXGT88eCTuNg_icaLJYcgGgkuHCC82o0hKi_DchcFLY3YDQE10S2Hu81mQTpzn_0fAcWrHxQqfIb7wz4KQ4oDisp2AV5uE99BUtluH-JiawQtxCqmW/s1600/RAVE+PARTY+615460_17421582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvgaD_wedfmyzI29z2jk677bk5xDXGT88eCTuNg_icaLJYcgGgkuHCC82o0hKi_DchcFLY3YDQE10S2Hu81mQTpzn_0fAcWrHxQqfIb7wz4KQ4oDisp2AV5uE99BUtluH-JiawQtxCqmW/s320/RAVE+PARTY+615460_17421582.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Make sure you understand what I am saying. Get ready. Clean yourself up. Make your place beautiful. Do all the things you would do to prepare for the most wonderful guests - but do it all out of love and thanksgiving for the host, and the party He brings. That is Gospel. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So for Christ’s sake (really, I mean it literally) stop worrying and get ready to party. Jesus is on his way.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-87103593191475037432010-12-08T10:17:00.001-05:002010-12-08T10:19:44.225-05:00Patience with FoolsWhen it first came out, a friend of mine commented on Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. He did not complain that the Jar Jar Binks character made him want to spew. Instead he complained that this movie continued to reinforce a common theme in today's pop culture -- that if your heart is in the right place, you can succeed without any discipline or preparation, regardless of the difficulty of the task. <br />
<br />
He may have had something there. I work with a number of young people at a large national retailer. A few are what I would consider typical youth, using their work experience as a way point on a journey upward. Others, however, will make noise about their plans and ambitions but seem to lack any ability to actually act in the direction of their stated goals. Nice kids, but not real clear on how life really works. <br />
<br />
Some of the YouTube comments complain that the author of the video is being mean to aspiring writers. I would say it's fine to encourage those [<i>fill in the blank</i>] who are aspiring even as they work, but we need not have patience with fools. Fools should be slapped in the hopes that it will knock some sense into them.<br />
<br />
While I haven't had a conversation exactly like the one in the video below, it made me think of some I might have.<br />
<br />
<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/c9fc-crEFDw?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/c9fc-crEFDw?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object> <br />
<br />
Of course, then there are jaded old farts like me who are working at rebuilding their dreams and plans from the wreckage. C'est la guerre.<br />
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(hat tip to <a href="http://gospeldrivenchurch.blogspot.com/2010/12/thats-not-really-how-it-works.html">Jared Wilson</a> )Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-5929771687730789302010-12-02T11:09:00.000-05:002010-12-02T11:09:52.522-05:00Die Tochter Fotografien<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My oldest daughter has been bitten by the camera bug. She has quite the eye for composition and loves playing with the camera every chance she gets. One of the beauties of digital photography is almost instant feedback. While she has acquired a very nice film camera with lenses that she is learning to use, it's just such a hassle to send the film out and wait for it to come back. Then there is the expense. It is much cheaper to experiment on a digital camera. <br />
<br />
Recently she was able to go on a walk in the woods with some friends, exploring the "caves" around Mt. Major. In this part of the country, caves are usually just spaces between large rocks that have fallen from a cliff face. Although they are not true caves, they can be quite large and are still pretty cool to explore<br />
.<br />
At any rate, it was a nice off piste walk, and she got ahold of the camera that belongs to my friend Rick. Here are a few of the best shots.<br />
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</div>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-73363048293301419092010-12-01T00:48:00.001-05:002010-12-01T11:15:43.555-05:00Advent Meditation 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0E5ahgNJDva7j4r347OSTbCIvl68Jnix1LfUKoY3xM9G1E2NB2Njmdh66MD4CH4SN8Bu8M621aThu6u3WJH5MSZsKbsYlJNACYn0PCwzkct6vO4ILuXz2OPKHLhbsNTpTSKhOrx2apag/s1600/CANDLE+923950_98820609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0E5ahgNJDva7j4r347OSTbCIvl68Jnix1LfUKoY3xM9G1E2NB2Njmdh66MD4CH4SN8Bu8M621aThu6u3WJH5MSZsKbsYlJNACYn0PCwzkct6vO4ILuXz2OPKHLhbsNTpTSKhOrx2apag/s320/CANDLE+923950_98820609.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>Lately, I find that seasons pass by almost without my knowing.<br />
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I am living mostly day to day, week to week, head down, leaning into the wind, making slow headway against the prevailing forces. Now and again I duck behind a tree or a rock and when I look up, time has passed and things look different. I'm always a little surprised. I can't stay in one place, however, so I put my head back down and continue plowing forward. I don't know how long it will take to reach a land that isn't so windy, but I know it's there.<br />
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It's not that I rail against wind anymore. I am learning to accept the wind. Wind is. Perhaps I can even harness the wind. Wind is what I have. I can possibly even learn to love the wind. Wind has it's own fierce beauty. In spite of all that, I will still long for the stillness of a sheltered place. <br />
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So I looked up the other day to realize that it's the first week of Advent. Once again I am taken by surprise. When I let myself move beyond the surprise, I find myself taken up in the layered beauty of Advent. Advent is like looking through the glass from both sides at the same time. It is a sort of cubist season where I find myself both seeing and being in the sheltered place even though it has not yet arrived. <br />
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I can do this because in Advent we remember what it was like for the Jewish nation to look forward with longing and anticipation and hope for the Chosen One who would lift the boot heel of Rome from their national neck. Of course, the Chosen One did come, but he looked nothing like they expected. Surprise!<br />
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In this way Advent becomes a time when we mirror that waiting in our own expectant waiting for the coming of The Chosen One. We expect and hope and long for him to return and deliver us from....what?<br />
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Pick your poison I guess. We know the world is one messed up hole. Anybody who pays any attention at all knows that for all it's beauty and wonder and power, there is also something quite wrong with the whole operation. Something isn't working the way it's supposed to. Deep down inside we long to see it fixed. It's a human thing, this longing. We naturally seek the sheltered place.<br />
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The followers of the buddha might say that if you can eliminate the longing then you eliminate the problem. It certainly doesn't hurt to cultivate a sense of equanimity about what is. I can say from personal experience that it is generally a good thing to do. But I don't think the longing is the cause of the problem. I would rather say that the problem is the cause of the longing. Anesthesia doesn't repair the broken bone. It merely numbs the pain. The bone remains broken.<br />
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In Advent, we are reminded that there is someone who came once to deal with that damage in the most unexpected way possible. He set the broken bones of the world with a profound finality that is really breathtaking to contemplate -- beyond politics or power or money or family or education or anything else that we look for to save us. His method is scandalous, crazy, ridiculous and ultimately the only thing that could possibly work. It makes no sense, but it's the only sensible thing. <br />
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Then he moved off (inexplicably) telling us to keep an eye out because he's coming back to finish the job. Apparently, the job is done, but not done. The world is fixed but the fix isn't finished. He'll be back to mop up. When? Who knows?<br />
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And so we wait, like the Children of Israel. They returned from exile sure that YHWH's favor rested upon them once more, only to experience repeated domination and disappointment over 400 years. Like them we walk against the wind and seek the sheltered place. And Our Shelter is coming. This is more certain than the rising of the morning sun in the eastern sky. He comes.<br />
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This then is one layered layer of Advent -- longing and waiting. We know our Shelter is there. And we know that we can stop seeking Our Shelter. We can sit quietly waiting, for Our Shelter has already found us. Our Hope has already arrived and is yet coming. And his coming is always a surprise.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-60515626497597967822010-11-29T00:10:00.000-05:002010-11-29T00:10:13.118-05:00First Sunday of Advent 2010 - Expectation<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uo-9W8syrOE?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uo-9W8syrOE?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
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Veni, veni Emmanuel! <br />
Captivum solve Israel! <br />
Qui gemit in exilio, <br />
Privatus Dei Filio, <br />
Gaude, gaude, Emmanuel <br />
Nascetur pro te, Israel. <br />
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Veni, veni o oriens! <br />
Solare nos adveniens, <br />
Noctis depelle nebulas, <br />
Dirasque noctis tenebras. <br />
Gaude, gaude Emmanuel <br />
Nascetur pro te, Israel. <br />
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Veni, veni Adonai! <br />
Qui populo in Sinai <br />
Legem dedisti vertice, <br />
In Maiestate gloriae. <br />
Gaude, gaude Emmanuel <br />
Nascetur pro te Israel.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-84105177882618316212010-11-25T12:06:00.000-05:002010-11-25T12:06:37.817-05:00Wood Pile Nov 25Got a very late start building the woodpile this year. Very late.<br />
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I am thankful to have close to 5 cord of wood stacked up, all acquired within the last 4 weeks. The generosity of friends, a willingness to ask around, a fair amount of industrious activity and...voila!<br />
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Let's keep an eye on it as the season winds around, shall we? We can watch it slowly disappear as it transforms into cozy nights in the midst of a bitter season. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPAjh9t6CEExGlHIy-rKX8MPRvQXeLbR_UnsdmITJfXMf3o4649rcslWoDdV12c3KcJBpNBhSBxVBgao1PADCUgZrNysFt9Au6nU2hVCFle1iHyJkfl5I19t6Yme21ozwTCJdVF8Ujnz9/s1600/DSC00112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPAjh9t6CEExGlHIy-rKX8MPRvQXeLbR_UnsdmITJfXMf3o4649rcslWoDdV12c3KcJBpNBhSBxVBgao1PADCUgZrNysFt9Au6nU2hVCFle1iHyJkfl5I19t6Yme21ozwTCJdVF8Ujnz9/s400/DSC00112.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-77573705558737910202010-11-02T19:49:00.000-04:002010-11-02T19:49:53.150-04:00vote. don't vote. whatever.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKJu1HgO7tMTvNIznq70Rp9Ldg8Q05Il5jTicVhLJOl9Y9aDGw6J9FQ9RvtjgkiXoCyZ_UCVVkBO3i7F6sSd-pCML1wX3NG-leOSdHxD53sfkG-3Wv1eCAoAv7LDzmwKyIGBG5CO9j8xRf/s1600/vote+here2+578107_78992564.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKJu1HgO7tMTvNIznq70Rp9Ldg8Q05Il5jTicVhLJOl9Y9aDGw6J9FQ9RvtjgkiXoCyZ_UCVVkBO3i7F6sSd-pCML1wX3NG-leOSdHxD53sfkG-3Wv1eCAoAv7LDzmwKyIGBG5CO9j8xRf/s200/vote+here2+578107_78992564.jpg" width="173" /></a></div>I posted my facebook status today thusly:<br />
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<i>vote. don't vote. whatever</i>.<br />
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A scandalous sentiment. I was indeed scolded by one of my FB friends, an acquaintance from elementary school who reminded me that our mothers pounded it into us to VOTE. My mother didn't pound much of anything, but I would say that she would certainly look a bit more than askance at anyone suggesting that it is OK not to vote.<br />
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I believe in engagement. I am not by any means a separatist (<i>and the LORD said 'come on out from among them and be ye separate...</i>) of any kind. Voting is certainly one way to engage in the life of the world we live in. It is a unique form of engagement, and a custom highly developed here in the United States.<br />
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I balk, however, when voting is considered a "sacred" duty. Although that term may not be actually used, it is the default setting for most who prize the blessing of democracy. The term may not always be used <i>per se</i>, but it is thought of in just this manner -- a duty that is sacred. To refuse a sacred duty is blasphemous, an outrage against God. I reckon it all depends who your god is. <br />
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This is ironic, especially when coming from some who, believing in no god, or claiming to be unsure about the nature of a god that may or may not be, yet still think that the very idea of anything being 'sacred' could have any meaning for them. Even more ironic, however, that those who, clinging firmly to a faith in a Very Particular God, would not stop to think HOW exactly would voting be sacred. If it is, it is likely not for the reasons they are thinking.<br />
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For instance, I don't believe you will find anywhere in the Gospels where Jesus encourages us to go to the polls. Nor to stay away. Democracy was simply not a category in which Jews in 1st century Palestine dealt, and Jesus was no different.<br />
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Perhaps the closest he comes is when he says to give Caesar that which belongs to Caesar -- but that's taxes. What happens when we ARE Caesar -- or our job is to vote on Caesar?<br />
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So how should we think of voting? I refer you to Jared Wilson's blog post on <a href="http://gospeldrivenchurch.blogspot.com/2010/11/vote-like-youre-not-voting.html">Voting like you are not voting. </a>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-57396821428853120792010-10-28T23:56:00.002-04:002010-10-29T00:01:09.470-04:00All I do<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Xww7UdiXY18?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Xww7UdiXY18?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-43249202158089314902010-10-26T20:36:00.000-04:002010-10-26T20:36:48.016-04:00The Beverage of GourmetsI have nothing against soda (or pop, as my Michigander friends prefer to call it), I just don't drink that much of it. Like many good things, a little goes a long way.<br />
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As a young man, I attempted to drink that quintessential New England beverage, Moxie. Alas, I was too young, my palate undeveloped and immature as it was, could not tease out the lovely and complex interplay of flavors, nor fully appreciated the strength, boldness and audacity inherent in the extract of gentian root. I spurned Moxie for the sweeter and less demanding taste profiles of the more popular carbonated drinks. <br />
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Now in my middle age I have come around. Given the choice, I now willingly choose to be moxicated.<br />
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I will allow as it may take a bit of getting used to, but so does anything worthwhile. Here is a primer on how to drink Moxie. <br />
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Here's a nice spot on other local beverages, finishing with the best.<br />
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<a href="http://topics.myfoxboston.com/m/29124691/best-of-soda.htm" id="ezEmbedSiteLink" target="_blank">Watch this at My Fox Boston</a></div>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-28468308461153408692010-10-21T00:00:00.000-04:002010-10-21T00:00:40.953-04:00A Day in the Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRFni2OQiOOMtJerGqTh0xRihBnZ2Xp8cFjgSCiVD9ZExaSUfKMDgbcPSKkE5A1-bbrYc8Kc-DuqigOB8Xzk2al23Shg9V1kWADDWZoH-kC_oI69oYVq6GmyMfvkqML7kao8G8cDNke-9/s1600/talking_over_coffee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="108" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRFni2OQiOOMtJerGqTh0xRihBnZ2Xp8cFjgSCiVD9ZExaSUfKMDgbcPSKkE5A1-bbrYc8Kc-DuqigOB8Xzk2al23Shg9V1kWADDWZoH-kC_oI69oYVq6GmyMfvkqML7kao8G8cDNke-9/s200/talking_over_coffee.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Chaplain Mike over at Internet Monk recently wrote an astounding piece called <a href="http://www.internetmonk.com/archive/tell-me-about-your-day">Tell Me about Your Day. </a><br />
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It's astounding for two reasons. First because the suffering of the people about which he writes is deeply deeply moving, troubling and real. Second, because we so seldom stop to think that this sort of thing is going on around us all day long, every day, in the lives of the people we meet at work, on the street and in church. Every day. Everywhere.<br />
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This is not the exception, I think. It is more like the common human experience. We just hide it better than most cultures. <br />
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This is real life. I am struck hard when I ponder it, aware of how close it is to being my life, and afraid that I lack the compassion to face it in the lives of others.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-24055114079042289162010-10-20T23:42:00.000-04:002010-10-20T23:42:16.928-04:00I'd say that just about sums it up...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZnOPgfxY-69uHFtBwY8_4uYL_Jcr8yUAl7VujcWERDaIIvSQCNvdKV2nbq5YbKm9kHya97DdRQFJCgK95KYIBs9plRJGFr2ms1f1oWcpvGQqdaq8HqCWj6Y0T6C9xPq4PlOS2STz-KA2s/s1600/maple+tap+961976_28547500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZnOPgfxY-69uHFtBwY8_4uYL_Jcr8yUAl7VujcWERDaIIvSQCNvdKV2nbq5YbKm9kHya97DdRQFJCgK95KYIBs9plRJGFr2ms1f1oWcpvGQqdaq8HqCWj6Y0T6C9xPq4PlOS2STz-KA2s/s200/maple+tap+961976_28547500.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>My good Texas friend Craig often attempts to needle me when we are having a light dusting of snow up here in NH. He likes to tell me how he is enjoying mowing the lawn with his shirt off, or some such blather as that. I don't get that at all, as I think mowing the lawn is punishment enough -- I don't see why you would want to throw skin cancer in on top of it. <br />
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There is a certain smugness that leaks up from those who prefer to live in (what they consider) more clement regions. I'll have none of that. They call them "tropical" diseases for a reason, after all. <br />
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My friend <a href="http://assistantvillageidiot.blogspot.com/">Assistant Village Idiot</a> recently pointed me to a very nice list of reason why it makes all the sense in the world to live in New England -- from <a href="http://sponge-headedscienceman.blogspot.com/2010/10/why-live-in-new-england.html">Sponge Headed Scienceman. I recommend reading it. </a><br />
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If you don't get it, well...you just stay right where you are. That's more maple syrup for me.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-68352104508509729422010-10-06T18:49:00.001-04:002010-10-06T18:50:42.376-04:00It's Not About YouA few weeks ago, I had another opportunity to speak at a retreat, this time to the student body of <a href="http://www.jesseremington.org/">Jesse Remington High School.</a> We had a group of about 40 students who gathered at the Horton Center on Pine Mountain, overlooking Gorham, for a few days focused on building their life as a learning community. Yeah. I know. But that's just the kind of school Jesse Remington is.<br />
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As with my previous retreat experience, I tried simply to open up the Gospel to these kids, trying to help them see it through fresh eyes. Rather than expound the text, I tried to read the text. Rather than preach the 3 point sermon I worked at telling the 3 chapter story. Rather than set forth the three propositions, I tried to frame 3 pictures of the Gospel from what I hoped was a fresh new perspective. <br />
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I say this because when I approach speaking or preaching on the Gospel, I stay away from a scholarly approach because I am not a scholar, a philosopher or a particularly deep thinker. I just don't have the training for it. My approach is more pastoral -- what in this text will feed His sheep?<br />
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And even taking a pastoral approach, I still tend to avoid the heavy lifting of exegeting the original languages to make a fine theological point. Again, partly because I lack the training. But even moreso, the most useful thing to feed the flock isn't a new insight into the aorist tense in the original Greek. Nor is it another insight into the Pauline logic of the doctrine of justification.<br />
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The most useful thing for feeding the flock is pictures. Clear, powerful, visceral, emotionally charged pictures that teach us about who God is and what he has done.<br />
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That's at least part of the reason why Jesus left us with two basic practices around which he builds his church -- baptism and eucharist. These are first and foremost living pictures of him and his grace. Even better, they are not pictures that we merely gaze upon. They are pictures in which we partake -- we are included in the picture.<br />
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Chew on that.<br />
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I kind of wish I had this video a few weeks ago. I would have shamelessly stolen from it, because it makes the point I worked so hard to make to those students in the mountains.<br />
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<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LkNa6tLWrqk?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LkNa6tLWrqk?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-83025283299441018642010-09-05T22:53:00.002-04:002010-09-05T22:55:11.540-04:00Affectionate InsultsI just returned from a weekend in the mountains of mountains of NH where I was engaged as the speaker at a Christian men's retreat. Good men. Good times.<br />
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I was amazed and delighted to experience that wonderful atmosphere of affectionate insult that pervades the banter of men who have known each other for a long time, and love and respect each other. It might appear, if one were to read a transcript of the event, that these men loved to spite one another. But when you hear the tone of voice and see the expressions on faces, you realize that the deepest insults are also the most loving compliments. I think the term is "good natured ribbing." You only hurt the ones you love.<br />
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It's a guy thing.<br />
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Our teaching focus was an attempt to uncover fresh perspectives on the Gospel. Much of the material are ideas that I have only recently learned myself, but which has deeply shaped my heart. <a href="http://necodraconis.blogspot.com/2007/11/perelandra-and-music-of-god.html">It reminded me of this post from 2007. </a>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-21713016253594201602010-08-11T00:19:00.003-04:002010-08-11T00:25:43.486-04:00That's How Winning is DoneI just like this. Fires me up.<br />
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<object height="192" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0N-c8MIFvaI&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0N-c8MIFvaI&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5341387552436652040.post-58933734089647635782010-08-05T18:49:00.000-04:002010-08-05T18:49:07.951-04:00Sport or Sporty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcw0lbkf8iNUJfOEmLMBlIMdOjineFL4xcvsvRd37b3jhHjTLpw_4ugguSI10d1BlXEfYTSsdph0JAYyEWBoJinMG0kHrozwhVx9Vot7d9i85hKF7zNwgDLfMVN-RmRLCHbrUsDfjizpDx/s1600/stevens_aug04_cheerleader_post.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcw0lbkf8iNUJfOEmLMBlIMdOjineFL4xcvsvRd37b3jhHjTLpw_4ugguSI10d1BlXEfYTSsdph0JAYyEWBoJinMG0kHrozwhVx9Vot7d9i85hKF7zNwgDLfMVN-RmRLCHbrUsDfjizpDx/s200/stevens_aug04_cheerleader_post.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Atlantic Monthly online has a great article by Hampton Stevens on <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2010/08/why-cheerleading-isnt-a-sport-but-croquet-is/60949/">Why Cheerleading isn't a Sport, but Croquet is</a>. Brilliant.<br />
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There are, as Mr. Stevens sees it, three iron clad requirements for an activity to be considered a sport.<br />
<ol><li>people compete at it</li>
<li>computers can't do it</li>
<li>aesthetics don't count.</li>
</ol>I have long complained about the dominance of activities like figure skating, ice dancing, synchonized swimming, and even gymnastics in broadcast coverage of the olympics. I even have trouble with certain skiing and snowboarding events that figure style in the "judging." But I have never been able to express my dislike of such events as succinctly and clearly as Mr. Stevens.<br />
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My hat is off to you sir. Well done.Dubbahdeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00075702513873912334noreply@blogger.com0