Tuesday, May 08, 2007

A New Bishop for Oklahoma


I'm taking a brief break in sharing my travel photos at Jonah 365 in order to share something more recent: a picture from a historic occasion. This is the scene from the election of a new Bishop for the Episcopal Church in Oklahoma.

It is historic for a number of reasons, but primarily because the Bishop was elected on the first ballot. Our current bishop, Robert Moody, was also elected on the first ballot - 20 years ago. At that time, he was the seventh bishop in the Episcopal Church to be elected on the first ballot. I'm sure there have been one or two others in the past 20 years, but I doubt there were many.

Everyone I spoke to express surprise concerning the first ballot election. First, there was a slate of six well-qualified candidates, three of whom were natives of Oklahoma (only one of which is still resident in Oklahoma). Second, there are the issues which are supposedly tearing our communion apart - issues having to do, primarily, with human sexuality.

I had expected this division to be reflected in the election results. All of the candidates pledged to uphold current policy (no ordinations of homosexuals, no same-sex weddings or blessings). None expressed an opinion that the policy should be different. One or two, however, expressed an interpretation of Scripture which would put them in the conservative camp.

One, whose brother was gay, and had died of AIDS, was especially sympathetic to a "progressive" view.

Another candidate was rumored to be involved with the "Anglican Communion Network", which supports a "literal" interpretation of scripture and supports crossing of Diocesean borders by foreign bishops. The candidate in question denies any link to the "Network", but there are hints in his profile that he is sympathetic to their cause.

Given these factors, it was a great blessing to elect someone on the first ballot.

Oklahoma's bishop-elect is the Rev. Dr. Edward J. Konieczny (kun NYETZ nee). I have heard positive reports on "Father Ed" which suggest he has the gifts of humility, compassion, and loving assertive leadership.

Idée d’jour

Never eat more than you can lift.
— Miss Piggy, a character in the The Muppet Show

Monday, May 07, 2007

Idée d’jour

I think all religions are trying to approach the same mystery, and that there are different religions for the same reason that there are different cuisines.... What I find interesting, though, is that religions always tell stories. Religions always have characters and the characters tell tales.... So that's what's interesting about people with religious faith — they interpret life through a story.
– Yann Martel, from interview with Shambahla Sun, May 2007, 26

Tornado Season

It’s tornado season.  As a TV junkie, to me this means most network programming will be pre-empted by local weathermen.  Like political parties, TV stations have discovered the way to keep you glued to their station is to scare you: “Our new Doppler system will tell us when the twister is knocking on your door!  Stay tuned!”

In my case, these fear tactics generate a response similar to the towns’ people to the boy who cried wolf.  I am, in a word, cynical.  I won’t worry until I hear tornado sirens.

The quiet suburban  neighborhood I live in is far from traditional tornado paths.  The infamous May 3rd tornado of 1999 did not come significantly close to this area.  Tornadoes this weekend, along the Texas panhandle, and in southern Kansas, were significant distances from Oklahoma City, which is almost dead center of the state.

There were a number of tornado warnings last night.  The closest I’m aware of was near Wolf, which is almost 70 miles southeast of OKC.  As I say, I’ve gotten skeptical of the constant barrage of mostly redundant information provided by local TV.  I’ve chosen to wait for the sirens. 

Once I hear the sirens, then I turn on the TV to see how close the system is. Otherwise, I refuse to get caught up in their manipulation.

I almost turned on the tube early this morning, even though there were no sirens. I became aware of repeated lightening strikes a bit before 3 a.m. It was a major lightshow, and one could barely say "one Mississippi" between the flash of the lightening and the thunder. This told me the system was quite near.

I wasn't afraid, really, but DJ was. She ran from window to window meowing. She did her own form of feline storm tracking.

Try sleeping through thunder and meowing. It's an effective alarm system. However, I was still groggy enough to lack the inertia to get out of bed.

Happily, DJ and I survived. By the time I got up (around 6), there was only a shallow stream of water down the middle of the street; the water in the gutter was only about three inches deep. Easily passable.

Coworkers' yards flooded. One lives just a mile or so north of me; the other lives several miles south. So, I count myself lucky.

And we're all lucky compared to the people of Greensburg, KS.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Idée d’jour

What sane person could live in this world and not be crazy?
— Ursula K. Le Guin, author (1929- )

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Interview, Part One

I'm borrowing questions asked of Reverend Mother by Mindy. I've requested personalized questions, and will post those when and if received.
  1. What is your favorite word?
    Dance, and variations thereof. It has become one of "fall back" words in recent poems; therefore, I'm doing my best to avoid it.

  2. If there was a movie made of your life, who would play you?
    Michael Gross. This is sort of obvious type casting, as a number of people have told me I resemble him. Mr. Gross is best known for his role as the father in "Family Ties". He's also played a father in recent episodes of "How I Met Your Mother".

    I am not a father, though I was a step-father. I do not currently play a father, even on the blogosphere. I am, however, a decent "Dutch Uncle".

    Mr. Gross is about 10 years older than I am, and seems to be losing hair in ways similar to myself. So, recent publicity shots may give me a clue as to how I'll look in 8 or 9 years.

  3. Paper or plastic and why?
    This is a theological question more potent than the current controversy over human sexuality.

    It's been a really long time since I've been given a choice. Most of the time, the grocery store gives me plastic, while the health food store gives me paper.

    Paper is - generally - recyclable. Both are reusable. I keep a stock-pile of plastic bags which I use primarily for trash can liners. Large paper bags are among my cat's favorite toys.

    Once she has gotten finished with those paper bags, they are especially ready for recycling.

    I don't know if there is a net gain from recycling paper. That is to say, does the benefit of recycling my paper bag outweigh the environmental impact of pollution produced by the recycling plant? Is that a fair trade-off to reducing land fill use?

    My gut feeling is recycling is superior overall to the negative impact of plastic. So, when given a choice, I request paper.

  4. If you could be on a reality TV show, which show would you want to be on and why?
    The question assumes I would want to be on a reality TV show. Since I think so-called reality TV is symbolic of the collapse of Western Culture, I would not be inclined to implicitly endorse it by being on such a show.

    If I had to be on a reality show, I guess it would be "American Idol" - assuming they loosened the age restriction.

  5. What would be your super hero talent?
    My impulse response was "flying", but that's a talent I would like to have. What if talents I already possess were magnified in some way, such that they were considered "super powers"?

    In that case, ability to charm with my voice (words, speaking, singing) would be one. That's the gift of Orpheus.

    The other would be the capacity to retain vast amounts of basically useless trivia. Super Nerd!

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Can We Agree?

Rev. Sarah Dylan has posted a list intended to find common ground between "reasserters" (sometimes called "conservatives") and progressives within the Episcopal Church. It seems she believes real communication is most likely to occur if we begin our discussion with points we can agree on.
  • Jesus is Lord.

  • Jesus and the God who created the universe are one.

  • The Old and New Testaments were inspired by God, and are useful for teaching and Christian formation (a la 2 Timothy 3:16-17).

  • Jesus of Nazareth was an actual historical person who was born of Mary, gathered disciples and taught, healed, and confronted evil powers in ministry [to]the first-century Roman province of Palestine, and was crucified under Pontius Pilate's authority.

  • Jesus of Nazareth was and is the Christ of God.

  • The God of Israel raised Jesus of Nazareth from the dead.

  • Jesus' disciples met the risen Jesus — some had visions, some corporeal encounters (though Jesus' body was different in some ways — e.g., he didn't seem to need doors to be opened or unlocked to get into a room), but in all cases reported in the New Testament it was Jesus they met.

  • The list of canonical books in the New Testament is a good one. There is no non-canonical gospel that I would have liked to see in the canon, and no book currently in the canon that I'd exclude if I could.

  • The kingdom of God was inaugurated in Jesus' ministry, and that Jesus will come again to realize fully his work among us.

  • The God of Israel has chosen Jesus, the Christ, as judge of the nations.

  • Jesus is really present in the sacrament of the Eucharist.

  • Jesus is really present wherever people gather in his name.
I interpret Dylan's question as being, "What do *you* agree with?" rather than, "What do you think *everyone* can agree with?" The only question I can answer meaningfully, at any rate, is the former.

I agree with almost everything on this list. Like many others (on both sides), I see some challenges in defining phrases such as "Jesus is Lord".

Is it necessary to agree on definitions? Many on both sides have said we *do* need to agree on definitions; meaning, of course, that we must agree on their definitions.

I am reminded, however, of the Elizabethan compromise regarding the nature of the Eucharist. When confronted with two seemingly opposing views, the solution was to say "both".

What I mean to suggest is that unity may occur through agreeing on certain points, so long as definitions are kept as broad as possible (or totally ambiguous). We can agree on the phrase "Jesus is Lord" so long as the implications of what that phrase means are left up to each individual.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Dr. Pierce's Golden Pills

Doc Pierce's Barn
Lilly of the valley sky
where clouds breach
over burned furrows.

My sister has just arrived,
wearing an empire dress.
Her face is sun-burned.

Her hands are idle.
Coquettish clouds halo her hair.
Her eyes are on the barn.

It looks like rain, but rain
won't spoil the dance.
Wind blows from the southeast.

Sister has brought
Dr. Pierce's golden liver pills.
She says they're not fake.

We'll be off
to the green-roofed barn
just after sunset.
Written in response to this challenge.

Commission Report Reflects on Iraq Policy

Interesting news out of Israel yesterday:  the government-appointed Winograd Commission released a preliminary report criticizing Prime Minister Olmert’s decision to enter into a full-blown war against Hezbollah following a Hezbollah raid last July (see NPR article).
Among the commission’s criticisms:
  • failed to adequately assess the Israel Defense Forces' war-readiness

  • did not have a clear exit strategy;

  • did not consider alternatives to a full-scale conflict; and

  • outlined unattainable goals;

  • all of which "add up to a serious failure in exercising judgment, responsibility and caution"
It seems to me a similar report could be issued regarding Pres. B*sh’s decision to invade Iraq.  All that would need to change are the proper nouns.

To whit:
  • The Administration did not assess whether our military had sufficient forces to launch attacks on two fronts while maintaining a presence in Europe, South Korea, and elsewhere around the world. This failure of planning has lead to the need to divert the National Guard to a foreign conflict, and to institute stop-loss measures across all branches of the military.

  • The lack of an exit strategy becomes clear as one examines the shifting reasons given for invasion. In other words, how can one exit when one has not clearly defined what constitutes the end goal?
        It seems to me that, if "Democracy" were the true goal, the Administration could have declared victory shortly after the first round of elections.
        We are now in the odd position of trying to support a predominantly Shiite government - hardly the electoral outcome we were banking on.

  • The Administration chose to invade Iraq just as it seemed that the combination of diplomacy and the threat of invasion were working.

  • Establishing Western-style Democracy in Iraq has long been the stated goal for invading Iraq (once it was clear there was no need for a "pre-emptive" strike). Anyone familiar with the history of the Mideast in general, and of Iraq specifically, would recognize this was (at least) an unrealistic goal. It's very likely unattainable as well.
As with the Omert's full-scale strike against Hezbollah, this policy reveals "a serious failure in exercising judgment, responsibility and caution."

As I have suggested before, this Administration has offered aid and comfort to the enemy. Weapons being used against our forces are from stockpiles we failed to guard following the invasion. The invasion and occupation of Iraq has proven to be an excellent recruiting tool for al Queda and similar radical movements.

Surely, providing aid and comfort to the enemy is an impeachable offense!

My Time Behind Rock-Star Shades

I was a rock star Sunday morning, ever so briefly.

This past Sunday was the 7th Annual Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon. This is among the annual events that commemorate the bombing of the Murrah Federal Building in downtown Oklahoma City on April 19, 1995. The organizers have local bands perform at different spots along the course to entertain runners, spectators, and volunteers.

Now, Ben and I have been working on an acoustic set since late last year and have actually had a gig. I got an email from Ben while I was visiting Brother Dave, asking if I was interested in doing music for the marathon. I’m the first to admit to being a ham, so I eagerly agreed.

However, by the time I responded, the Ben’s concept had shifted. He had also contacted a group he does rock music with – The Space Heaters – and asked if they were available and interested. The regular rhythm guitarist was out of pocket, so I stood in for him. I don’t know that many could hear my non-amplified (but miked) guitar over everything else, but strumming gave me something to do when I wasn’t singing.

We were told to be at the site – about six blocks from the finish line – around 6:30 a.m. Runners were expected to be coming around the spot around 7:30. Now, I’m an early bird – but even I think 6:30 a.m. is rather early.

It took at least 20 minutes for bleary-eyed musicians to agree on where to set up the gear. Then, about 30 minutes to set up. By the time we had set up, the first runner came by. So, that hour for set up was a good idea.

We played mostly oldies: Great Balls of Fire, Like a Rolling Stone, Lucille, and Fortunate Son. I sang lead on Mr. Tambourine Man and All Along the Watchtower. We hadn’t rehearsed the latter; it’s something I played to cover while the lead guitarist replaced a broken string. Since “Watchtower” is basically 2-3 chords (simplest way to play it is with Am and F), it was a good filler. I also filled time by playing harmonica between each of the three verses.

Guess I did OK. When we were done, Ben said, “We’re definitely adding that one to the set list.”

We did a couple more songs, then it was time for me to sing The Mighty Quinn. I started to tear into it – like Dylan did at the Isle of Wight concert – and suddenly, my mind went blank. For the life of me, I could not remember the first verse.

Next thing we knew, the power was gone.

Did I mention that the site was a car dealership? Specifically, a Jaguar dealership? Did I mention that no one met us to tell us where we could plug in?

There two outlets outside the display room, and we had plugged into one of those. Hard to believe we had blown a fuse. Surely, a Jaguar dealership can afford to pay it’s electric bill.

Anyway, that was my brief moment as a rock star. It was fun, and I hope I can do it again.

Idée d’jour

If you devote your life to seeking revenge, first dig two graves.
— Confucius, philosopher and teacher (c. 551-478 BCE)

Friday, April 27, 2007

Friday Five: What Are You...

This week's laconic theme suggested by Reverend Mother; "What are you":
  1. Wearing
    I am wearing my traditional Friday garb: black shirt and black pants. Since it was chilly this morning (46°), I am also wearing my off-white linen jacket.

  2. Pondering
    "Are you pondering what I'm pondering?" Brain asks of Pinky.
    "That ‘W’ should be forced to complete his enlistment in the National Guard and be stop-lossed to Iraq?"

  3. Reading
    The Audacity of Hope by Barak Obama. I have only read the first two chapters so far. He is very intentional about finding a middle path.

  4. Dreaming
    I'm sure I dream; it's just been so long since I've remembered one. There are times when I attempt automatic writing that curious images and verbal constructions come forth which may be dream refugees; see, for example, "Jack Frost Is Dead".

  5. Eating
    Breakfast - mixed cereals, consisting of Kashi Go Lean Crunch and a generic granola. Lunch - whatever is on special at the cafeteria. Dinner - an entree from the Prairie Gypsies, a local catering company which also sells delicious entrees directly to individuals. This latter is one of my traditional Friday indulgences.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Best Of 2006

I've finally selected the "best" entries for the past "fiscal" year. Since I began this blog in March 2003, I observe a "fiscal year" from March to March.

Yep, believe it or not, I've been blogging in this space since March 2003 — that's four years! My Jonah 365 blog has gotten more attention of late, but I still add an entry here now and again. My intent is to use this space primarily for politics and poetry. The Jonah 365 space intended to be more focused on images - primarily photographic, but some imagist poetry has appeared over there as well.

Anyway, check out what I've selected as the "Best Of" for the past year, and see if you agree. Nominations are still being accepted for alternate entries.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Idée d’jour

I'm not young enough to know everything.
— J.M. Barrie (author of Peter Pan)

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Idée d’jour

When we ask "Where is God," we are like fish in the ocean asking where all the water is.
— Sufi saying

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Virginia Tragedy

Larry Johnson, at TPM Cafe, notes that the death of 32 people at Virginia Tech yesterday is, more or less, equivalent to a normal day in Baghdad. He wonders why Americans are shocked by the former, and not by the latter. Let's face it, the majority of those who favor prompt withdrawl of American troops are thinking primarily of American sons and daughters rather than the children of Iraq.

Let us not, however, minimize one tragedy by comparing it to another. What happened in Viginia Monday morning and early afternoon was tragic. Dateline, on NBC, ran a news special on the event Monday evening. CBS will have a news special on Wednesday evening. I have no doubt that many commentators will perform long-distance psychoanalysis to explain why this person went berserk.

The boys at Columbine were loners. They were abused and ostracized by fellow students. They killed for revenge. I might seek revenge as well, but never to that degree.

University officials are still reluctant, as I write this, to say the same person was responsible for the incident in the morning and the one in the afternoon. The first incident was considered to be a domestic disturbance. According to the New York Times, the man who eventually killed himself, after killing at least 30 others, was Seung-Hui Cho, an Asian student. There are suggestions this man is relatively new to our country.

So, he also may have been an object of verbal and physical abuse. Photographs suggest the campus is primarily Caucasian. It's possible Mr. Cho was an object of ridicule and/or prejudice. Granted, one of the victims was black, but this doesn't negate my hypothesis.

Now, like one of those commentators, I'm trying to explain Mr. Cho's actions. We want to understand. We want to discern a motive. "Bull goose crazy" may be acceptable, but we much prefer explanations we can understand. If we can, order is restored. And, while we may understand the motive, we can reassure ourselves that we would never do something similar.

Someone once said, "Nothing human is foreign to me." What this writer meant, I think, is the full range of human emotions is available to us. As is the full range of human response to those emotions.

Hitler is not an aberration. Timothy McVeigh was a true believer. The boys in Columbine displayed one type of violence, just as the people who teased them displayed another.

The people who rush to help others after a tragedy may be braver than some, but each of us the capacity for that same level of caring and self-sacrifice.

Human beings are neither intrinsically good, nor intrinsically evil. Human beings have the capacity for the full range of that ethical pole. Any one of us are capable of the same sort of extremes I've mentioned.

I could be a Hitler. There are times, in my most egotistical moments, when I want to rule the world. Times when I believe I know the right way to behave and think, and I want to impose it on the rest of the world.

I'm not typically the sort of person who rushes to help in an accident. I reason, given my limited skills, I'm more likely to be a hindrance than a help. I can pray, but first aid is not one of my gifts. But I have reached out to others, and have a patience and thoughtfulness others have admired.

I suspect, if you do an honest self-inventory, you will see you have these same capabilities. Just magnify your best and worst qualities, and you'll recognize you are also capable of being Hitler or Mother Theresa.

A fundamental guideline of human ethics, mirrored in every major world religion, is "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." It follows that, as I do not want to die or being seriously injured, I will strive to avoid killing or injuring others.

And yet, we constantly find justifications for killing others. Most often, for revenge; or, most recently, as a sort of preemptive revenge.

Seung-Hui Cho, the man who killed so many at Virginia Tech, undoubtedly convinced himself he was justified in killing so many. We may never know why.

President B*sh, who reportedly expressed "shock and sadness" in response to this tragedy, is ultimately responsible for many multiples of 32 human beings in Iraq and Afghanistan. He can be saddened by the first tragedy, and not the second, because he has convinced himself the deaths in those two countries are justified. That, somehow, these deaths will lead to a greater good for America. He may even sincerely believe all these deaths will lead to Western-style democracy in these two countries.

He has convinced himself, in other words, that the ends justify the means. Just as the boys at Columbine did. Just as Tim McVeigh did. Just as, perhaps, Mr. Seung-Hui Cho did.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Friday Five: Dental Edition

This week's theme suggested by Reverend Mother. She and Cheesehead have both recently gone to the dentist with various oral maladies.
  1. Are you a regular patron of dentists' offices?
    dentist? what is this "dentist" thing you speak of?

    I haven't been to the dentist in over *mumble* years. I think my teenage experience with my orthodontist scarred me for life.

  2. Whatever became of your wisdom teeth?
    I'm not sure they ever came in.

  3. Favorite thing to eat that's BAAAAAD for your teeth.
    [Sings] "I like candy ...." And cake. And chocolate. And sweets. And ....

  4. Ever had oral surgery? Commiserate with me.
    I did have a root canal, sometime in my late teens or twenties. As I recall, it was not quite as traumatic as advertised.

  5. "I'd rather have a root canal than _________________."
    I'm speechless. Guess I'd have another one, if my life depended on it. Or if I were in severe pain. I'm a wimp that way.
Bonus: Does your dentist recommend Trident?
I refer you to my response to the first question. However, I have started chewing a stick of Ice Breakers after lunch. A friend got me started on this habit.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Station: Holy Saturday


A.
Beloved Daughter, Blessed Mother,
this is your son.
Do not look upon this broken body;
look to your right.
Adopt the young face you look upon.
Beloved Friend, this is your mother.

I thirst.

This is not my dancing day.
I cannot dance on this wormy wood.

Beloved daughter,
will you not leave this place?
Beloved friend,
will you not shield your mother's face
from this horror?

I thirst.

Hear my voice.
I cry from the horns of unicorns.
Bulls of Bashan surround me.
I am a reproach of men,
they laugh and mock me.
They gave me a robe in jest,
now they gamble for it.

Daddy! hear my voice.
Forgive them.
Bless this mother.
Preserve this adopted son.

I thirst for life
I thirst for love
I thirst for forgiveness
I thirst for compassion
I thirst for justice

Father, have I completed
the work you gave me to do?

Yes.
It is finished.

B.
They took the body down.
It was laid
in a stranger's tomb.
A stone was rolled unto the door of the tomb.
And Mary Magdalene
and Mary the mother of Joses
beheld where he was laid.

Friday, April 06, 2007

Station V: Simon Cyrene


Let the world be crucified
where the light is lost,
far from our eyes.
Let my fear be crucified.
Let my death be crucified.
Because my eyes cannot see
the invisible kingdom;
Because my lips have forgotten
the godsong heartbeat eternal hum;
Because I build my cross
as I walk my path
as I betray my forgotten heart
as I lose the sweet secret room
where godsong prays:
Can we turn back?
Where can we turn back?
Please, Daddy, can we turn back?
Where godsong prays
under starlight
after betrayal
after being abandoned.
Godsong prays for the crucified.
I pray for the crucified
for those about to die
for the dreams I salute.

I am not worthy to bear the beam
because I do not come from Crete;
because I am not Libyan;
because I am not Roman;
I am not worthy to bear the beam
I am not dust from the Ten Cities.
I am less than a chink in the wall
of a ruined temple.
I accept the virtuous beam
let it burn my shoulder
let it incense the secret room
in the forgotten chamber
of my stony heart.
I will bear the beam.
I will watch the sky rend its curtain.
I will hear the Temple cry.
Though I am not worthy
even to speak your name.

Stations

Beginning Monday, I have been posting a series of works inspired by the Stations of the Cross. This is a Roman Catholic tradition, which some other liturgical churches also observe.

I had this idea last year, of conflating the Stations of the Cross with news stories. The method has been similar to Wm S. Burroughs' "cut-up technique": in other words, I slice paragraphs from the newspaper, interpolate descriptions of the Via Dolorosa, paste it all together, and then create verse from the "mash up". I think two of these have been successful experiments.

The problem is, there are 14 stations, I've only gotten as far as the fourth, and today is Good Friday. I'm not sure I have it in me to write ten more sections in one day.

We'll see. Work has already begun on Station V: Cross Laid on Simon of Cyrene.
Added Holy Saturday morning. Plan now is observe last few Stations, then one last entry tomorrow.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Station IV: Mother


We regret to inform you
34 people were killed in Iraq
On Wednesday.

We regret to inform you
The sick grow sicker and the hungry starve.

We regret to inform you
Your son may be held
In an undisclosed location
For questioning.

We regret to inform you
You may not touch his wounds
You may not speak his name.
Every moment is an eternity.

We regret to inform you
Four British soldiers were killed
Thursday
In an ambush in southern Iraq.
Five U.S. troops died in Baghdad.
An Army helicopter went down
South of the capital.

Renewed fighting in Afganistan:
Five Taliban and two policemen dead.
We regret to inform you
Dozens more were wounded.

We regret to inform you
Our patience is not unlimited.

We regret to inform you
Matthew, 18, and Alan, 20,
May have been killed
By friendly fire.

Gunmen opened fire on a minibus.
We regret to inform you.
Six men died. West of
Baghdad, 22 shepherds were abducted.

At least 34 people were killed
Or found dead in Iraq
On Wednesday.
Blessed Mother.
We regret to inform you
Your child carries a rifle
In Darfur.

We regret to inform you
Holy Lady
Your child is ready to kill.

We regret to inform you
You may not wipe the blood
From this face.

Holy Lady. Your children persevere
In hate and death worship.
We regret our regret.

We regret our information.
We beseech your love.
We beseech freedom
From our deadly dreams.

We beseech, Holy Lady,
Blessed Mother.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Station III: We Fall

Poetry Month: Mad Farmer

A friend just recommended Wendell Berry's poem "Mad Farmer Liberation Front". You can read it here. Here's the first stanza:
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Station II: Bearing the Cross


We adore thee, O Christ,
because we find Olivia
sitting on a bench outside
holding a bloody cloth
over her face.
The beam is a secret joy you carry
because the world is not quite as warm
as when police arrested Jeremy
for first degree murder.
It is an instrument of redemption,
so avoid worrying over past bruises.
A heavy cross.
A suicide truck crashed into a Kurdish neighborhood.
Nick lost a black guitar in last week's tornado.
Jason, 24, of Amelia, VA, died Sunday.
O Christ, your Holy Cross
with which you redeem
a suicide truck bomber.
Amish children return to school,
they survived the shooting
that killed five classmates last fall.
They survived to forgive.
Your heavy cross was born
for a man convicted of killing
two teenage girls.
You carry your cross with meekness
for an Oklahoma marine
killed while serving in Iraq.
A black guitar.
Jason died from wounds suffered in the attack.
The heavy beam.
Your bruised shoulders.
O grant us, by your virtue,
to submit to suffering.
Grant us, by your suffering,
to submit to peace.

Poetry Month: Recommended Poems

In another venue, I have suggested we spend Poetry Month (April) listing some of our favorite poems.

The first poem I listed was T.S. Elliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," which I memorized for a high school talent show:
Let us go then, you and I
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table.
The next poem that comes to mind is Diane Wakoski's "I Have Not Learned to Live With My Face." It was originally in The Motorcycle Betrayal Poems and is now in the collection, Emerald Ice. A girl introduced our high school English class to Ms. Wakoski's work, and I've been a fan ever since.

Ms. Waksoski is grouped with the "deep image" poets. As you might imagine, the emphasis is on the image rather than sound, narrative, or lyrical quality. At the same time, her poems have a confessional quality, with an admixture of personal and universal myth. Examples include her George Washington and Beethoven poems. Her most recent series, The Archaeology of Movies and Books (I've read the first two collections in this four-part series), takes this to the next level - mixing her personal history with the myth of Jason and Medea in the first two books.

Also worthy of study is her epic work, Greed, which appears to be a work still in progress. Future generations may well consider it an epic for the 20th/21st Centuries.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Station I: Born to Die

Clayton was five when he died.
His sister was three
when the flames
took her breath.
They were condemned to die.
The house was found
engulfed in flames
at 2 p.m.
Kent J was nine
when the tractor trailer
condemned him to die.
Douglas locked his children
in the trunk.
He judged them ready.
He condemned them to die.
Sean and Jeffrey were on patrol,
responding to a domestic dispute
when an unknown person shot
and condemned them to die.
An unknown person
made an unborn child
an orphan.
Page 13A is filled with
names and ages.
Lives touched, loves passing.
Each born to die.
Each condemned to die
from the moment seed mixed with water.
Eva Sue, Ella Mae, Kenneth Paul.
Each born of woman.
Born with ashes
already hidden on each brow.

Idée d’jour

A monk asked Ummon: "What is it that surpasses the Buddhas, surpasses the patriarchs?"

Ummon replied: "Buns."
— Zen Mondo
Zen stories can have an element of the absurd that Samuel Beckett or Woody Allen would envy. One question this story raises is whether Ummon is referring to something you eat (like hot cross buns) or to the posterior.

What do you think?

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Friday Five: Passiontide

This week's theme suggested by Reverend Mother.
  1. Will this Sunday be Palms only, Passion only, or hyphenated?
    Hyphenated, which seems to be the norm amoung Oklahoma Episcopal churches. My reading of the Book of Common Prayer suggests it could be separate services, but my memory it's been one service since 197-mumble

  2. Maundy Thursday Footwashing: Discuss.
    The last time I experienced this was at St. James' As has been noted, it's easier to wash someone else's feet than it is to have your feet washed. By the end of the day, when such services are normally held, my feet can be a little sweltery, and potentially stinky. Plus, the toenails on my right foot are yellowed. So, footwashing can be quite humbling. Since humility is one theme of Maundy Thursday, it seems appropriate. As a typical Caucasian middle-middle class American, I need an occasional lesson in humility.

  3. Share a particularly meaningful Good Friday worship experience.
    One year, at St. James', I stayed through the entire vigil which begins Maundy Thursday. When I felt sleepy, I went to the choir loft and laid down. I also was on a liquid fast until sundown Good Friday. When awake, I was aware of my own breathing. I occasionally read prayers assigned for the vigil from the St. Augustine Prayerbook. There was no question in my mind I was striving to keep prayerful watch that year.

       Not a discipline I recommend. Nor one I plan to repeat in the near future.

  4. Easter Sunrise Services--choose one:
    1. "Resurrection tradition par excellence!"
    2. "Eh. As long as it's sunrise with coffee, I can live with it."
    3. "[Yawn] Can't Jesus stay in the tomb just five more minutes, Mom?!?"

    I have only experienced one Sunrise Service. I was one of the people in our congregation who lobbied for it. I did need my coffee. At the time, it was just Mary and I; her kids were on their own by this point, so option "c" would not apply.

       There is an amusing story connected with that service. Holy Apostles was a de facto rural church — there was a large field to the north of it, and horse ranches to the south. The service began in pitch darkness, with the service of the new fire — lighting the Pascal Candle and relighting the sanctuary light. As it got light, we heard hissing from outside. Choir members were facing the north window, and — along with certain acolytes — were the first to see what was going on. Harriet muttered, "It's my husband; I'm going to kill him."

       The field to the north of our church was often used by a local ballooning club. That hissing we had heard was the gas filling the great multi-colored balloons. The acolytes were getting quite restive, as were some members of the congregation. Acolytes on the other side of the chancel were rubber-necking to see what was going on. The minister, however, absolutely refused to turn around.

       Just as the opening hymn began, one of the balloons rose up quite near the north window. The balloon had a picture of Pistol Pete, the mascot of a local college sports team.

       The opening hymn was "He is risen, he is risen."

  5. Complete this sentence: It just isn't Easter without...
    Dinner at Gary's. Gary hosts an annual dinner for everyone at the Cathedral who wants to come. It's primarily, I think, for those who have no other plans or other places to go, but it seems like a tradition for everybody to attend this event. It's potluck, and the food is marvelous.

       Another tradition at Gary's dinner is the Easter Egg hunt. The older kids hide eggs for the younger ones. Seeing the little girls in their cute Easter dresses digging under bushes and peering in the crannies of walls and fences should be enough to open every old heart.
Bonus: Any Easter Vigil aficionados out there? Please share.
This is my tradition. And it often happens that I attend the Vigil and the service the next morning. This year, I'm scheduled to do something at that morning service, so I have no choice. Rather, I choose to attend both, because the Vigil is so meaningful to me.

   I've already spoken of the lighting of the New Fire. This can be quite awesome, if one puts his spiritual imagination to work. Plus, at the Cathedral, this is the time (as of old) when people are confirmed or renew their baptismal vows. There are times tears come to my eyes during this ceremony.

Idée d’jour

Tung-kuo Tzu asked Chuang-tzu: "What is the Way? Where is it?"

"It is everywhere," replied Chuang-tzu.

Tung-kuo Tzu said, "It will not do unless you are more specific."

"It is in the ant," said Chuang-tzu.

— Taoist Mondo
Jesus said, "I am the Way." Which may also be translated, "the path." Another understanding of the word "Torah" is also The Way; we commonly translate "Torah" as "Law", in reference to the "Five Books of Moses".

The meaning may not be precisely the same, but I suspect this commonality points to a common understanding of spirituality. I suggest this story may also answer our question, "What is God" or "Where is God".

Prayer d’jour

Dear God, sometimes I can hear You, but I can't understand your words.
Please help me understand so I may do well.
Just think of me as an angel in training.
— written by a resident of Covenant House, a shelter for runaway teens.

Friday, March 30, 2007

Idée d’jour

A society that gets rid of all its troublemakers goes downhill.
— Robert A. Heinlein, science-fiction author (1907-1988)
Best known for his novel Stranger in a Strange Land. Heinlein was a Libertarian; some of his contemporaries characterized him as a radical conservative (the people in question did not intend this as a complement).

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Idée d’jour

Better to meet a she-bear robbed of its cubs than to confront a fool immersed in folly.
— Proverbs

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Idée d’jour

If you have no feelings about worldly things, they are all Buddhism. If you have feelings about Buddhism, it is a worldly thing.
— Zen Saying
St. Paul couldn't have said it better!

Saturday, March 24, 2007

1B1 B Gone

I worked with Sheila for about 2 1/2 months in 2000. It was a wonderful working relationship. She respected my opinion, honored my creativity, and was good company besides.

Sheila was recently diagnosed with cervical cancer. She has been undergoing chemo as well as radiation. She's about half-way through the chemo treatments, and has 13 radiation treatments left.

Rob, who works in her office, created the slogan "1B1 B Gone". Purple plastic bracelets have been made; I wear one.

Her assistant, Rita, organized a meeting of the people praying and caring and sending Sheila positive vibes. We met at a church around the corner from Sheila's house. There were about 55 of us. I knew a few, and struck up conversations with new friends.

This was good.

We walked to Sheila's house. She was surprised. You can see us here. I'm the tummy at the far right.

Sheila seemed glad to see me. She thanked me for posting positive notes on her blog. She had good color, and good spirits.

I have confidence she will beat this foe!

Idée d’jour

Although the wind
blows terribly here,
the moonlight also
leaks through the holes
in the roof
of this ruined house.
— Shibiku

Friday, March 23, 2007

Friday Five: Rivers in the Desert

This week's theme is suggested by Songbird, who writes:
As we near the end of the long journey toward Easter, a busy time for pastors and layfolk alike, I ponder the words of Isaiah and the relief and refreshment of a river in the desert.

For this Friday Five, name five practices, activities, people or _____ (feel free to fill in something I may be forgetting) that for you are rivers in the desert.
  1. Music. I've programmed a pair of play lists on my iPod, Ambient and Ambient – Night. Each consists primarily of music without lyrics, so I can listen while I work. To date, my employer has not complained, and I'm very grateful I have the choice to listen to music through the day.
       In any list of things I could not live without, music would be number one. It is the foundation of my spirituality.
       There are times, primarily when I've tranquilized my ego, when singing really does become a form of prayer. "The who sings, prays twice," to paraphrase St. Augustine.

  2. My feline companion. There's no comfort quite like her small warm furry body curled up on my lap. The rumble of her purr soothes me, and is somehow reassuring.

  3. A good book. A weekend afternoon spent sitting in my recliner with a book (I'm currently reading Gary Wills' What Paul Meant) is time well spent.

  4. I wonder about "relief and refreshment". Some activities are relaxing, but are the spiritual equivalent of empty calories. I am thinking, of course, of TV. TV can give my mind a break, and is often a relief. But does it refresh, as Living Waters? Does it make my soul sing?
       Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Seems to me, much depends on the mindfulness I bring to it. Most art has a spiritual message - even drek like Two and a Half Men. It may not be a positive message, mind you, but it can be found.
       And discerning that message can be a fun game to play. Or, it can be a bit of work.
       So: TV is relaxing, and can offer temporary relief. Proper selection programming, or proper attitude, increases the possibility of refreshment.

  5. Now and again, I can sit quietly and reflect on my breath. This happens most often Sunday mornings at church, as I empty myself prior to the service. The process is pure gift.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Idée d’jour

To draw, you must close your eyes and sing.
— Pablo Picasso (by way of the Mutts website)

The Episcopal Bishops' Proclamation

We proclaim the Gospel of what God has done and is doing in Christ,
of the dignity of every human being, and of justice, compassion, and peace.

We proclaim the Gospel that in Christ there is no Jew or Greek, no male or female, no slave or free.

We proclaim the Gospel that in Christ all God's children, including women,
are full and equal participants in the life of Christ's Church.

We proclaim the Gospel that in Christ all God's children, including gay and lesbian persons,
are full and equal participants in the life of Christ's Church.

We proclaim the Gospel that stands against any violence,
including violence done to women and children
as well as those who are persecuted because of their differences,
often in the name of God.

We proclaim a Gospel that welcomes diversity of thought
and encourages free and open theological debate
as a way of seeking God's truth.

If that means that others reject us and communion with us,
as some have already done,
we must with great regret and sorrow accept their decision.

The House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church, March 20, 2007

As formatted by The Rt. Rev. Dr. Omed. Who, by the way, wishes you an equitable equinox.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

I Lost Your Mirror

Will we ever meet?
Or have I sculpted your image
from Morphean sand?
Yes, I built you from chance unfinished tales.
Yes, you built me from hints and visions.
Let us melt the mirror
and meet among our refracted reflections.
Spirited winds ride
the tightly woven strands
of your long dark hair.

I have seen death walk the old café.
She wears my mother's pale mask.
Her hair was once black, but is now all grey.
She is dark star hunger.
She is infinite need.
She is intimate chasm, intricate cataclysm.
Her porcelain mask has yellowed.
Her legs are gangrene trunks.
Her hands have wounds for fingers.

That is not your reflection.
This death mask is the sentinel I pass
to bring you from the mirror's mercury side.
Mercury melts the dust.
Your hand grows through the glass.
The protector stands to one side.
The sentinel has forgotten her false name.
Your face draws near to mine.
Our tale begins, again.
We return from the forgotten country,
being sure
not to turn our gazes back.

after seeing Cocteau's "Orphee"

Idée d’jour

Nothing will work unless you do.
— maya Angelou

Monday, March 19, 2007

Prayer for Today

Maya Stein's latest poem is worth reading, and praying. It begins:
if ever there was a time for laughter
let it be now
this perfect hour
this infinite instant
let us laugh at the world around us
whichever undying part remains
not verging on the lip [of] annihilation,
poised for the eternal forgetting.
Read the rest here.

Ms. Stein posts something once a week, generally poetry. I commend it to your attention. The link for One Paragraph at a Time is on your left under "Sites to See".

Don't Resign, Bertie

At my last count, three Republicans had joined a number of Democrats in asking Alberto Gonzalez to resign as U.S. Attorney General. And surface appearances would seem to indicate that it would be proper for him to do so. The whole business stinks.

If, however, this scandal concerning the firing of seven Federal Prosecutors around the country teaches us anything, it is that the B*sh administration values loyalty above competence. In fact, recent history ("Doin' a heck of a job!") suggests that B*sh values incompetence most of all.

Maybe he hopes he will look good by comparison.

The point is, the next appointee is not likely to be any better than Bertie.

By the way, I'm just guessing what mildly embarrassing frat-boy nick-name B*sh has given Mr. Gonzalez. For all I know, it might be "Taco."

This is the president, after all, who nominated Harriet Miers for the Supreme Court. The same woman who originally suggested the U.S. Attorney General office fire all 93 Federal Prosecutors around the country. I shudder to think who he would put up for nomination if Mr. Gonzalez did resign.

If Mr. B*sh were smart, he would nominate Robert Fitzgerald. Let it never be said that I accused Mr. B*sh of being smart.

There's another reason that Democrats should oppose Mr. Gonzalez' resignation, and the Republicans should favor it: the longer he is in office, the more protracted the scandal will be. The more information will be released as headline news.

There is still about 30% of the American public, some polls tell us, who think Mr. B*sh is doing a "heck of a job". These people were not convinced of the Administration's incompetence after the post-Katrina disaster. These people have not been convinced, even after the Pentagon admitted that U.S. troops are effectively shooting gallery pigeons between the sides of a Civil War. These last rosy-eyed hold-outs may require something more than a 2x4 to the side of the head.

There is at least a slight possibility that daily headlines will finally persuade them. There is some small hope that a few of those 30% are more intelligent than the man they admire.

This is not just a B*sh thing. It is endemic of how Republicans have done business since the Lewinski fandango. Any means necessary to maintain power. Not only do the ends justify the means, they prefer the dirtiest means possible. Perhaps, as some of them moan, the Democrats have done the same thing. Republicans, however, have perfected it.

With just a little effort, the Democrats can make Alberto Gonzalez and George II poster boys for Republican malfeasance and hubris.

Sunday, March 18, 2007

77/365


Here I am in full-on photog mode. Got my snap-brim cap turned backwards. Concentrating on catching the shot under challenging circumstances. Picture taken in a reflective column at the east edge of Leadership Square in downtown OKC.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Friday Five: Whatcha Doin'?

This week's theme suggested by Reverend Mother, who has to work on a day she normally observes as Sabbath. She writes: "Name five things you plan to do today. Bonus: If today is about 'have-to' for you as well, share up to five things you'd like to be doing today."

But first, a comment on "Sabbath". The Jewish Sabbath begins at sundown on Friday. Most Christians claim to observe Sabbath on Sunday. Since clergy work on Sunday, they have to choose another day. We often confuse Sabbath with the notion of "a day off" but it's more than that.

True Sabbath means no labor, whatsoever. Especially observant Jews don't drive on the Sabbath. The Torah tells us not even to drive oxen on the Sabbath - even the beasts of the field get a day of rest.

Taken that seriously, few of us really observe Sunday as a Sabbath. We run errands. We attend committee meetings. Sometimes our search for relaxation can seem almost as desperate as our time during the work-week.

A review of RevGal blogs suggest that people in many congregations resent the time their minister takes off. People can get awfully persnickety about that one day a week (often Monday or Friday). People get testy about a minister taking vacation. And heaven forbid that a minister take an extended sabbatical!

The notion seems to be that the minister is super-human, and is capable of being on call 24/7, 365 days a year. This notion has been applied as much to male ministers as it has to women.

Ministers are human. There may be a slightly higher standard - which is why sex abuse scandals shock us so - but ordained folk need their rest just as much as I do. In this regard, at least, the standard should be applied equally.

End of sermon. On to the business at hand.

I am not an ordained person. My "sabbath" is - nominally, at least - Sunday. This Sunday, of course, I have a task scheduled (to walk for Peace). But today, as I write this, I am at work. Here's my plans for the next few days:
  1. Play my guitar. Not associated with the Peace Walk. I'll be part of the chorus, and playing harmonica, for that event. No, I just want to play.

  2. Watch Ragtime. I now own a copy of this movie, and plan to watch it this evening. I remember I made a point of reading the novel (by E.L. Doctorow) before seeing the movie the first time, and was thoroughly disappointed. However, the movie has grown on me over time (probably as I've forgotten favored details from the novel). The movie has the distinction of featuring Jimmy Cagney in his last role - and he does a fine job, too.

  3. Saturday is up in the air. I've committed to edit a presentation of a First Century Eucharist. Basically, as I understand it, I'm supposed to paste the best bits from two existing scripts (both based on the best scholarship available to their separate authors). I may add a piece of my own - Gary Wills' translation of the words of institution: "... the Lord Jesus, on the night before he was betrayed, took bread, and, after blessing it, broke it and said: 'This is my body, which is for you. Do the same to keep the memory of me.'" (Wills' translation of I Cor. 11-23-26, from his book What Paul Meant, pg 46-47).
       I may also go to the peace rally Saturday morning, but that will depend entirely on what time I get up and where I'm at in working on that script.
       Time, money, and energy permitting, I may also take myself to the dollar movie. Otherwise, I may just content myself with checking a movie out from the library. The lastest version of Pride and Prejudice, with Keira Knightley looks appealing.

  4. Would you believe I consider reading books like What Paul Meant fun? I'll probably read at least a chapter at lunch today. Quite possible I'll read more over the weekend. It's due to the library by next Friday.

  5. "Let's go surfing now...." When in doubt, surf the Internet. Failing that, take a nap with my favorite feline.

Idée d’jour

Over the old wooden bridge
   no traveler
      crossed.
— Henry David Thoreau

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Oklahoma City Peace Events

Sat.Mar.17  - Rally for Peace: State Capitol
Sun.Mar.18  - Spiritual Walk for Peace: Diocesan Episcopal Center

RALLY FOR PEACE OKLAHOMA: SATURDAY MARCH 17
Aligning with the National March on the Pentagon, Washington, DC
State Capitol: South Plaza
WE PETITION GOVERNMENT TO END THIS WAR!
10:30 a.m. Gathering Music and Drumming
11 a.m. Speaking:  Rev.Dr.Robin Meyers, Sen. Connie Johnson, Rep Al McAffrey, Col.Katherine Scheirman,MD,USAF(ret), Iraq Vet Brandon Johnson, Gold Star Parents Kay & Warren Henthorn, and Others

SPIRITUAL WALK FOR PEACE: SUNDAY, MARCH 18
Episcopal Center, NW 9th & Robinson, Okla.City
"Is this the time to say NO to more war?"
People of all faiths are invited to gather for a silent walk around the Murrah National Memorial to mark the date of the US invasion of Iraq four years ago. We call our leaders to begin withdrawal of US forces from Iraq, toward peace.

1:30 pm: Music by Mary Reynolds, Louise Goldberg, Elyse Angelo, Terry "Buffalo" Ware, and others (including your correspondent).
2:00 pm: Invocation, Speakers, Silent walk, Pause at Jesus Wept statue, return to Episcopal Center.
Speakers include the Very Rev. George Back, Rev.Dr.Robin Meyers, State Senator Connie Johnson, others.

More information at the Oklahoma Peacehouse website.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Emotional Composite


Composite 07Mar10

Reading right to left:
Happy, Joyous, Ecstatic, Elated
(Props to Gary Larson)


Post #1830

Haiku: Dogwood

Jonquils trumpet spring —
where gray grass once burned
snow petals now kneel
Cross-post from Jonah 365

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Dr Omed Believes in Fred

Another make-good from the Friday Five. Here's the opening paragraph of Dr. Omed's essay:
I believe in Fred. Who, or what, you may ask, is Fred? Fred is the term my friend Kathy uses for her (unconscious) mind. I appropriated the name and apply a wider meaning: Fred is the personal representative, so to speak, of the collective unconscious in all of us. Fred is the psychopomp, a liminal guide, in many guises, of the soul to the underworld, the shadow you cast into the collective. Fred is transitive, that is to say, he gets around a lot. Fred is different for each of us, and he appears to each of us in many forms. Polymorphous perverse, that's Fred.
Read the rest at the "This I Believe" site, and judge for yourself whether "Fred" is all that similar to Carl Jung's theory of the Collective Unconscious.

Brother Dave Believes

In discussing "Matters of Taste" in the most recent "Friday Five", I make a statement regarding Brother Dave's beliefs. My statement was actually founded on a supposition (that Dave was an atheist) based on anti-religious comments Brother Dave has made over the years.

I should have known better; being anti-religious, or opposed to established religion, does not necessarily mean a person is an atheist.

Brother Dave posted an extended comment elucidating his views. It is so clear and well-written, I believe it deserves to be moved "up front":
I do, in fact, think (rather than believe) there is a non-material aspect to the world. I do not worship this aspect, do not build monuments to it and certainly do not advocate massive institutions with ordained orthodoxy, rituals and authoritarian structures.

It is my sense that this thing we call "life" is a state of nature akin to matter or energy. Just as physicists are coming to suspect a sort of "connectedness" across space/time of matter and energy, I think it reasonable to posit such a connection of this thing called life. Such is the non-material aspect of life I think may well exist. Respect is due to that aspect, as it may serve to bind life across the universe (whatever that may actually be).

To hold this view, I long ago rejected the notion of the uniqueness of homo sapiens. Certainly our species has unique characteristics, we tend to suggest self awareness as among these, though how we would know if a horse is self aware or not eludes me. But those unique characteristics do not constitute a "specialness" that is posited in most of the belief systems that rely on a uniquely human deity of some variety.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Elevator Moment

— It's a beautiful day.
"Yes, it is," she said.
— I'm even warm,
in this black costume.
"You look good in it."
We traded names.
The doors opened
and we parted.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

70/365


Memory suggests this picture was taken in the fall of 1984. All I can say for certain is, the picture was taken sometime shortly after I had acknowledged that I was an alcoholic. The date I've written down for that momentous date is Sept. 22, 1984.

This picture has a companion, posted at Jonah 365. That picture was taken yesterday, Saturday, March 10, 2007.

I remember I had gone to visit Andrea. I think it was Andrea. I know her husband who took this picture, but it seems like they were divorced by the time this was taken.

I'm going to remember the details after 20 years?

Actually, the picture was taken at Andrea's mother's house. It was on the west side of Norman. The good side of town.

I look happy. Compare it to the picture I took Saturday, I which I look very serious. I tend to look serious when I'm posing for myself. I'm focused on beating the timer to my chair. I'm focused on being posed just so before the camera triggers. So, the seriousness you see in that new picture may be misleading.

That's all I'm saying.

I don't remember the details of this day, but I remember feelings of the time. I was wound up. Tight as a cheap watch. I was wired for sound, as I like to say. Not that I needed a drink, per se, but I did have to reassess my identity as a person who did not drink.

And Larry asked me if he could take my picture. At the time, I didn't like to have my picture taken. So, I was nervous about that, too.

That's not necessarily happiness you see. I think it's a nervous smile.

I think I'm better centered now. I am walking a contented road. I walk the beauty path.

Not counting communion wine and the occasional O'Doule's, I haven't had a drink since that Sept in 1984. Not bragging. I have other bad habits; the difference being the other bad habits are not self-destructive.

I walk a sober path. Yet I also dance. I dance for sorrow, cry for joy. I breath cleansing air.

I know about resurrection. It's not much. Can't brag about that, either. I wasn't near death. I wasn't sticking needles in my arms. I had long before quit speed, and had stopped dropping acid. I hadn't smoked "wacky tobaccy" in a long, long time.

I drank to get drunk, is all. Even when I swore it would be only one, it turned into five. I passed out at parties. Nan still remembers the evening I wrapped around the large wooden spool - the kind used for heavy cables, then as post-hippie furniture - and feel asleep. Well, I was tired; the party was boring; I went to sleep.

I didn't die. I had a job that got the rent in on time. I had a room full of books and records. I had friends, and I had the proper proportion of spiritual hunger.

The last time I drank was at a church function. The college group at church. It was cheap box wine. I didn't get drunk. I didn't act inappropriately. I only had the one plastic faux stem-ware glass. I may not have even finished it.

Thing is, I had promised myself I wouldn't drink that night. I didn't even care for cheap box wine. May have been a sweet wine, which I don't like. But I still drank. I can't remember why.

Somehow, all it took to convince me I had a problem was an unfinished glass of cheap wine.

Yes, I didn't die. But I can truthfully divide my life into "before" and "after". But, isn't that a kind of resurrection. Can I say, as John Newton once did, "I once was lost, but now I'm found"?

Yes, I can. The path on this side of before/after is the better path. It is the healthier path.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Idée d’jour

Your soul isn't in your body; your body is in your soul!
— Alan Watts

Friday, March 09, 2007

Friday Five: Matters of Taste

This week's theme suggested by Songbird, who writes, "Name five things you like a lot that some close relative or significant other did/does not like. This could be food, movies, hobbies, music, sports or whatever springs to mind."
  1. The first thing that springs to mind is a "Higher Power." I believe in a transpersonal existence beyond full human understanding which I choose to call God. Brother Dave and Dr. Omed claim not to believe in anything beyond that which can be delineated by the "senses five".
       That being said, sometime back Dr. Omed wrote an essay intended for NPR's "I Believe" series titled "I Believe Fred". I can't find the link at the moment, but as I recall, Dr. Omed's definition of "Fred " bears a remarkable similarity to Carl Jung's theory of the Collective Unconscious. Given my interpretation reflects my own prejudices, it seems to me the difference between "Fred", "the Collective Unconscious", and "God" is only in minor details (such as the preferred name).

  2. Elsie, one time girlfriend, did not like raisins. I love 'em. Her dislike for raisins was so intense that she would pick them out of her cereal.
       Long-time readers may remember Elsie, who is a Methodist minister. She is currently a school chaplain in Tahlequah, and is reportedly very content in that placement.

  3. Bob, frequent lunch companion, is a Civil War re-enactor. Not my idea of fun.

  4. I like beer. Nancy did not like beer - she could not imagine anyone would like the taste. She believed the primary reason people drank beer was for the buzz.
       I now drink "non-alcoholic" beer (0.5% alcohol). It tastes as I remember beer tasting - it having been over 20 years since I've drunk even 3.2 beer. I know many recovering alcoholics would say I'm cheating, or playing with fire. I recognize the risk, but have yet to experience a problem associated with drinking one or two NA beers a week.

  5. Jim, occasional music partner, loves opera. I have yet to develop a taste for it - although I do enjoy the occasional cantata. In fact, I hope to burn a copy of Bach's Coffee Cantata sometime in the near future.

Idée d’jour

History is a vast early warning system.
— Norman Cousins, editor and author (1915-1990)
Which some, sadly, choose to ignore.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Into the Labyrinth

Two different labyrinths were at the Cathedral this week. The first, which was at the church this past Sunday, had been borrowed from St. Dunstan's, and was as large as our parish hall. The second had been borrowed from a Methodist church in Norman, and was about a fourth the size as the first. The second was at the church last night.

I didn't walk the larger labyrinth on Sunday; just didn't feel like I could fit it in, what with my journey to Tulsa (see Jonah 365). Once I saw the smaller labyrinth last night, I knew I wanted to make a special effort to walk it.

During Lent, the Cathedral has regular Wednesday programs: Evening Prayer, followed by a light meal, a brief (~15 minute) presentation, then break-out "learning opportunities" or small groups. The presentation last night was on labyrinths. Christina, who had made the arrangements for the loans, showed images of labyrinths dating back prior to the Common Era. Something I didn't know until last night – even southwestern Native Americans had labyrinths.

Most of Christina's presentation focused on the labyrinth at Chartres, which is one of the best known. One tidbit I had not previously known was that the equally famous Rose Window was coordinated with the labyrinth in such a way that light from the window would shine on the center of the labyrinth (which is also a type of rose).

Both labyrinths which had visited the Cathedral were patterned on the Chartres labyrinth; I believe the first one had as many courses, or circuits, as Chartres (12). The second had seven courses. A course, incidentally, is the number of circles from the center (counting the exterior).

I went straight from dinner to the location of the labyrinth. I was the third or fourth person to arrive. I chose to wait until those people had gotten a ways into the labyrinth before I entered. As it turns out, I was the last adult to enter, and the last one to exit.

I stood with Christina for a few minutes watching a group of four or five walk the labyrith. It looked like a Renaissance dance, or a Mideval clock. There was something calming and meditative about just watching people walk the courses.

Christina had brought an Anonymous 4 CD which played as people walked the labyrinth. This heightened the prayerful atmosphere.

In time, I too entered the labyrinth. Within moments, I noticed something new: within a few feet of the entrance, one is immediately brought to the center. In other words, the path from the entrance goes directly towards the center. It would have taken a single stride for me to go straight from the path into the center – I would have stepped over only one wall.

This seemed to me a metaphor for what St. Paul calls "baby Christians". These are people new to the faith, full of the enthusiasm of newly discovered love and freedom. It's common, during this time, to think one has "arrived".

Yet, if one maturely continues walking the path, and does not get stuck in that first romantic blush, one quickly discovers s/he is far from the center. In time, one will come close to the center again, only to wander far from it. It is a sort of pond-ripple, which reflects not only our faith journey, but our life journey.

As if to prevent me from getting all high and holy, there were still plenty of worldly distractions. One could hear the children's choir, which was downstairs, drumming. The soda machine was just around the corner from the labyrinth, and I could hear money and cans dropping.

Of particular interest were the two pre-teen boys who were as drawn to the labyrinth as bees to a rose. They saw the paths as a course to be run, like a race. Yet, though they sped through the labyrinth with the energy of youth and typical male enthusiasm, they made a point to bow to me each time we passed on the path. One boy stopped to quickly say the Lord's Prayer each time he reached the center.

It seemed to me that those boys were going slow, in relation to their normal pace. It's all relative, y'know?

I completed the labyrinth shortly before the children's choir was dismissed. Once they were, the whole group flocked to the labyrinth and transversed it in their own unique ways. Two children sat at the center, with first finger touching thumb - a classic meditative pose.

Mother Susan reflected how her three year old granddaughter danced the labyrinth, the last time it had been at our Cathedral.

What a marvelous image!

May I have the grace to dance through life. May I have the grace to walk my life-path with the same equanimity and peace I found in the labyrinth last night.

May the Lord of Life, the Prince of Peace, hear my prayer. May it be granted to all pilgrims.

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Idée d’jour

Humanity, take a good look at yourself. Inside, you've got heaven and earth, and all of creation. You're a world – everything is hidden in you.
— Hildegard of Bingen

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Libby Falls Toward Sword

The big news of the day, of course, is that the wrong man was convicted of the wrong crime.

Well, no doubt Libby lied. And, sure, perjury should be punished. But it's such small potatoes compared to the bigger crime committed.

However, Libby should have been convicted of revealing the identity of a CIA agent. That is a federal offense.

The man who really should have stood trial, IMHO, was the shadow master with the bum ticker. The man who declared Joe Wilson and his wife persona non grata from the moment Mr. Wilson published an editorial that revealed the American people were being sold a bill of goods regarding Nigerian yellow cake.

Again, revealing a CIA agent's identity is a federal offense. Don't matter if you're the VP or his aide. Doesn't matter if you revealed the identity under orders, of if you're the one issuing the orders. It's called a conspiracy.

Republicans didn't invent conspiracies. They have perfected them, from the time of N*x*n to the present.

Send the guy with the bum ticker to the slammer. Send his boss, who is guilty of aiding and abetting the enemy, to Gitmo.

Do it for our brave military heroes! Do it for freedom! Do it for democracy!

Do it because they deserve to reap what they've sown - whole out-houses full.
Commenter "C", below, questions the phrase "whole out-houses full". Think about what is in an out-house. Consider how this phrase may be more appropriate for general viewing than the more common phrase referring to buckets.

The Words

This past Saturday, I bought Rickie Lee Jones' latest album, the sermon on exposition boulevard. The lyrics are based on a project begun by Lee Cantelon, to present the words of Jesus in modern rendering. According to this article, Ms. Jones improvised the lyrics after reading a portion of the text.

All I know is, the hairs stood up on the back of my neck the first time I heard the opening track, "Nobody Knows My Name."

The Words is available on-line at The Words. This is not only a modern rendering, the text is arranged thematically. The first chapter, The Problem of Religion, is striking - especially when the words echo what I'm reading/hearing in other sources (e.g., Gary Wills' What Jesus Meant, the Intelligence Square debate, "Is America Too Damn Religious").

Recommended.

Friday, March 02, 2007

Friday Five: Artsy Crafty

Suggested by Reverend Mother, who says, "[Our church is] working on the notion that everything we do can be considered a beautiful thing — a creative offering to God — whether it's gardening or scrapbooking or accounting or sorting clothes at the clothes closet or child-rearing."
  1. Would you call yourself "creative"? Why or why not?
       Yes. Whether individuals on the RevGal list acknowledge it or not, they are all creative; they create entries for their blogs on a regular basis.
        Here's one way to look at it: the ancient Edenic myth has it that God created us in God's image. Since God is creative, we can't help but be creative as well. It might be even more accurate to say (a) we are co-creators with God; or (b) God continues to create through us.
       Now, we often belittle our own creative efforts. "I'm not an artist or a writer," we might say, "so I'm not really that creative."
       The psalmist extolls us to "Make a joyful noise until the Lord"; notice the emphasis is on "joyful", not "tuneful". Even the word "noise" could be instructive.
       I think the same applies to all our creative efforts — when we find joy, we find the place where we meet Divine Spirit. The quality of our creative effort is not necessarily ours to judge; not even society or history is the judge, if it comes to that.
       When we offer God our joy — however it is expressed — God is well pleased.
       All that said, on my more egotistical days, I think of myself as a sort of renaissance person: singer, poet, writer (witness the current page), photographer (see also Practicing Patience), artist.

  2. Share a creative or artistic pursuit you currently do that you'd like to develop further.
       Photography.

  3. Share a creative or artistic pursuit you have never done but would like to try.
          Hmmm. Seems like I've tried most things that appealed to me. Some more successfully than others.
       For example, I tried to knit early in February, and learned I don't seem to have a knitting gene. Either lack of coordination or tendency to overthink.

  4. Complete this sentence: "I am in awe of people who can Dance with ease."
       Likely, another one of those Y chromosome type things.

  5. Share about a person who has encouraged your creativity, who has "called you to your best self." (I'm pretty sure that's from the Gospel of Oprah).
      So many to choose from - Padre, Kathleen, Dr. Omed. Who should be on that list I haven't talked about in the past?
       Brother Dave. Last time we visited, in looking at my photographs, he said "Your camera has really expanded your creative palette." Sometimes I think of Dave as a complement to Van Gogh's Brother Theo, because Dave has supported me financially (he loaned me the money for a down-payment on my house). Happily, I have not needed to call upon Dave's financial assistance as often as Vincent did, but he has always been there.
       His support has gone beyond the financial, however. His house is a loving retreat space. His admiration and love are sincere. We had our years of sibling rivalry, but it seems to me the worst of that is behind us. If not ended altogether (which seems to me to be the case).

Ideé d’jour

Everyone who delights in a multitude of words, even though he says admirable things, is empty within. If you love truth, be a lover of silence.
— Isaac of Nineveh

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Idée d’jour

I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections.
- John Keats

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Idée d’jour

Infinitely more important than the answers are the questions, the choice of them, the inner form of them.
— Oswald Spengler

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Idée d’jour

Loneliness, my everyday life.
The sweeping winds pass
on the night-bell sound.
— Ching An

What Do Trees Dream?


Drawn using a "widget" at Birdie's new site.

Get well soon, beloved friend.

Monday, February 26, 2007

Idée d’jour

Do not seek God. Rather, make yourself available to receive God, who is already present and awaiting us.
— Jason Shulman, form Instruction Manual for Receiving God

Idée d’jour

The most perfect technique is that which is not noticed at all.
— Pablo Casals

Friday, February 23, 2007

Friday Five: Companions on the Way

I'm pleased to say this week's Friday Five is based on a suggestion I made via e-mail last week. I'm also pleased by how Songbird expanded on the idea; to whit:
Dante had Virgil as a guide. Before he had younger siblings, my oldest child had an imaginary friend named Patrick. Betsy had Tacy. Laura Ingalls depended on her brindle bulldog, Jack. All of them were companions on the way.

As we take the beginning steps of our journey through Lent, who would we take as a companion? Name five people, real or imaginary, you might like to have with you as guide or guardian or simply good friend.
  1. Kathleen, my maternal grandmother. One family tale suggests that she was more loving to her grandchildren (Brother Dave and I) than she was to her own daughter. My mother rarely spoke about Kathleen, but she had more positive memories of her father.
       When I think of the divine feminine, I think of Kathleen. When I think of the "cloud of witnesses" who surround me (whether in spirit or reality I know not), I think of Kathleen. When I think of those saints known to God alone, I think of Kathleen.
       She is a companion through many days in my life, as an icon of agape – pure, non-judgemental love. She is a companion who supports and praises. She is a companion who inspired and nourished my love of music.

  2. Francis of Assisi. Like Jesus, he calls me to an uncomfortable level of sacrifice. His life and discipline may seem harsh or frightening (viz., the stigmata); his life may seem a judgement. If it is a judgement, it is spoken in love.

  3. Gil, a friend at church. He smiles and gives me a big hug each time I see him. This past Wednesday, his wife mentioned how much he loves me. I have no idea why. I do feel a great deal of affection for him as well. Rather than try to suss out why he likes me so much, I have chosen to bask in it, and be fed by the affection. It, too, is an icon of God's love for us. We can't earn it; God gifts us with love "just because".

  4. Dr. Omed, who I once called Parsival. His wife calls him an evangelical atheist, a title he somewhat begrudgingly accepts. He is what I call a "recovering Southern Baptist", which is evidenced by his rejection of God or any notion of a supreme being (regardless of what name one choses for same).
       Dr. Omed has known me since high school. He can call me on my foibles better than anyone. He challenges my unexamined assumptions. His own faith, that cannot be named or categorized, is also an icon of grace.

  5. My constant companion, the fierce wild beast, Dame Julian. St. Anthony, as well as other Desert Fathers, is often pictured with a cat. The original Dame Julian also had a cat as a companion. I have a theory why this is so.
       There is no creature like a cat to keep a human humble. And their purr is an icon of the "constant prayer" St. Paul calls us to observe.

Last Nerve

Somehow, he found my last nerve,
ripped it out of my body,
threw it on the floor,
then jumped up and down on it.

I've been told I don't suffer fools gladly.
And, as the days grow short,
as I mark days in black between now
and the beyond,
I suffer less gladly.

At this rate,
I'm sure to become a misanthrope.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

I Fought the Bed

Sleepin' late is ... such fun!
I fought the bed, and the bed won,
I fought the bed, and the bed won.

I got my baby and the ... late sun...
I fought the bed, and the bed won,
I fought the bed, and the bed won.

Don't call me lazy, don't call me mad,
the day's not yet begun.
I'm not crazy, or feelin' sad...
I fought the bed, and the bed won.
I fought the bed and the bed won.

I shot the clock with my ... zip gun.
I fought the bed and the bed won
I fought the bed and the bed won.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Ash Wednesday

Remember, you are dust
Remember, O child of God, that you are dust and to dust you shall return.

If you prefer a less Christian post, I direct you to today's picture at Jonah 365. I also recommend the latest icon and Scissor Dance by Dr. Omed.

Bearing The Cross

Jesus told his disciples: "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me" (Mk 16:24, NRSV).   In order to take up our cross, we must bear the cross.   Our Lenten discipline this year challenges us to examine our lives and discern whether we merely wear the cross, or truly bear the cross.

Being Jesus' disciple has a cost. Bearing the cross may bring us into conflict with our own ego needs.   Bearing the cross may bring us into conflict with modern notions of comfort.   Bearing the cross may bring us into conflict with the morals and values of our social set.

The cross is a powerful symbol for our Lenten journey. At one level, it reflects the painful choices we must make. At another level, it may represent how we stand at a crossroad whenever we chose between our pilgrim life and the demands of the world.

It is at this crossroad that we examine how we proportion our time, talent, and treasure.   A healthy human life seeks a balanced and proper proportion between work, leisure, and spirit.   Only you (and God) know how well-balanced your life is!

I would not be so bold as to suggest daily minimum requirements. If there were such a thing, it would likely be our whole life. "What does the LORD require of you," asks the prophet Micah, "But to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" (Micah 6:8, NASB)

True humility would lead us to recognize the One who created us, created this world and all that sustains it, and whose Spirit grants us fullness of life. Owing so much, how can we hold back any part?

That is my challenge this Lent: will I bear the cross, even as I wear it? Will I take an honest and rigorous inventory of how I spend my time, talent, and treasure? Am I willing to make the sacrifices true proportional giving might require?

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Padre's Rocking Chair

Cross-post from Jonah 365


One of the many objects I have to remind me of Padre. Padre made this from a kit, sometime in the early 1960s. This was sometime after Kennedy became president, but before he was assassinated. Rocking chairs enjoyed popularity because Kennedy liked a rocking chair; it gave his back needed support.

You can't see the claw marks in this picture. The lady in the lower left-hand corner has left her mark on the chair. Hard to know why she responds to it this way. It endured the dust of Midland, West TX, for over two decades. But it may still have retained the scent from two dogs (Frieda and Gidget) and a cat (Sam).

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Idée d’jour

It would imply the regeneration of mankind, if they were to become elevated enough to truly worship sticks and stones.
— Henry David Thoreau

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Idée d’jour

Poems are not beer commercials . . .
They need to bring down presidents who
Start wars they themselves wouldn't go to.
— Nikki Giovanni, from her latest collection of poetry, Acolytes

Friday, February 16, 2007

Friday Five: Tourist Edition

Suggested by Reverend Mother
  1. What is one place you make sure to take out-of-town guests when they visit?
    The Bombing Memorial is a place many people want to visit. There's a pair of local parks I think are outstanding. Within the first year of Alexandria's moving here, I took her to the Wichita Wildlife Refuge.

  2. When visiting another city or town, do you try to cram as much in as possible, or take it slow and easy?
    Depends on the amount of time I have available. When I visited Seattle for a few days years ago, I mentally listed two or three places, and made it to those (plus a few extra).

  3. When traveling, where are we most likely to find you: strolling through a museum, checking out the local shopping, or _________________?
    Musuem, book store, or local shopping. However, if I'm attending an overnight conference (as I will in April), I'm likely to stay near the conference location.

  4. Do you like organized tours and/or carefully planned itineraries, or would you rather strike out and just see what happens?
    With the exception of a chartered fall follage tour, and ear phone docent tours in museums, I've never been on an organized tour. Can't say I've missed the experience.

  5. After an extended trip, what do you find yourself craving most about home?
    Her royal catness, Dame Julian.