growing innocence

Troparia of the Pre-feast

2011-12-23T08:49:00.000-08:00

"Prepare, O Bethlehem, for Eden has been opened to all. Adorn yourself, O Ephratha, for the Tree of Life blossoms forth from the Virgin in the cave. Her womb is a spiritual paradise planted with the fruit divine; if we eat of it we shall live forever and not die like Adam. Christ is coming to restore the image which He made in the beginning."

The Muppets

2011-12-09T21:24:00.001-08:00

Last year for Christmas, Olivia got me the DVD set of The Muppets Season 3. As a kid, we only got three television stations, so whenever the Muppets were on, it was a treat (my favorite shows were the Muppets, Doctor Who, Portland Trail Blazers basketball, Sesame Street and the Price is Right).

It was really surreal watching the show again, as I hadn't seen it in probably 25 years. My childhood memories of the Muppets were that they were funny and cute. As an adult, I noticed how witty the writing was, as well as the undercurrent of dark humor. The outcome of many of the short sketches on the show is usually humorous but also involve some sort of minor disaster. At least I now have a better idea of where my sense of humor (some would say lack thereof) comes from.

A little late to the party, but still funny

2011-12-08T17:11:00.000-08:00

Funny:

a) Spinal Tap reference
b) spoofing quasi-religious Obama photo
c) I guess that's it

In need

2011-11-30T21:19:00.000-08:00

In recent years, when the Thanksgiving holiday has arrived, I've been struck by the contrast between the themes that I associate with the civil holiday -- joy, family, contentment -- and the materialistic orgy that follows the next day on "Black Friday." It's seemed like such an obvious contradiction.

This year, I had the realization that perhaps the contradiction isn't as strong as I supposed. In fact, perhaps there is a strong relationship between what Thanksgiving (at least the holiday) is and Black Friday. In a culture that associates psychological instability with a willingness to deprive oneself of anything one might want, ever (unless it hurts someone else, that is), it would only follow that Thanksgiving wouldn't be about being content with the present as much as being a reason to overindulge and consume in the present (which in reality, has the likely purpose to distract oneself from the present). With rabid, unchecked consumption and overindulgence being such hallmarks of our culture, it's easy for this worldview to permeate. Believe me, I didn't just eat food on Thanksgiving day, I ate as much of it as I possibly could, to the point of being uncomfortable.

What then, is truly being thankful? The portion copied in the post below of the Akathist of Thanksgiving -- purported to be written by the Russian Priest Grigory Petroff shortly before his death in a Soviet Gulag during World War II -- certainly has a "thankful" ring to it. Each year our parish has a service of this Akathist on the evening before Thanksgiving and each year I am struck at the beauty and profundity of the words. This year, what stuck out to me is the obvious humility and repentance in the words of the Akathist. Clearly, the writer of these words was very much aware of and felt in need of or dependent upon God.

To be in need in our culture, is often an occasion for protest; it's a wrong that needs correction. I certainly don't wish to demonize those who fight against injustice, but for many Saints in the Eastern Orthodox Church, being in need (materially, spiritually or otherwise) was seen as a blessing. In fact, there are many accounts of Saints actually seeking out hardship if life seemed too easy. Hardship was seen as being helpful for our salvation and naturally flowed into worship of God and not coincidentally, thanksgiving. I don't pretend to be an expert on what it means to be thankful, but it seems to me that at least on some level, having a humble outlook on life, both in regards to myself as well as others, creates the space from which thanksgiving naturally flows.

When it comes down to it, we all have difficulty in life to varying degrees. We are all, whether we would want to admit it or not, in need. In our humility we perceive our own limitations and need for and dependence upon God, better able to be content in our present circumstances, giving thanks for injustices and inefficiencies, which, with God's help, leads not to a materialistic correction, but to a thankful and ever deepening awareness and abiding in the love of God.

Akathist of Thanksgiving

2011-11-27T14:28:00.000-08:00

Glory to Thee for calling me into being
Glory to Thee, showing me the beauty of the universe
Glory to Thee, spreading out before me heaven and earth
Like the pages in a book of eternal wisdom
Glory to Thee for Thine eternity in this fleeting world
Glory to Thee for Thy mercies, seen and unseen
Glory to Thee through every sigh of my sorrow
Glory to Thee for every step of my life's journey
For every moment of glory
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Glory to Thee for the Feast Day of life
Glory to Thee for the perfume of lilies and roses
Glory to Thee for each different taste of berry and fruit
Glory to Thee for the sparkling silver of early morning dew
Glory to Thee for the joy of dawn's awakening
Glory to Thee for the new life each day brings
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Glory to Thee, bringing from the depth of the earth an endless variety of colours, tastes and scents
Glory to Thee for the warmth and tenderness of the world of nature
Glory to Thee for the numberless creatures around us
Glory to Thee for the depths of Thy wisdom, the whole world a living sign of it
Glory to Thee; on my knees, I kiss the traces of Thine unseen hand
Glory to Thee, enlightening us with the clearness of eternal life
Glory to Thee for the hope of the unutterable, imperishable beauty of immortality
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age

Eno vs. Eno

2011-11-22T21:17:00.000-08:00

After Lucie was born last year, we were given a CD of ocean sounds/ambient-ish music by my parents to help Lucie sleep. Parts of it reminded me of what I imagined Brian Eno's ambient music would sound like.

Since whenever Lucie was sleeping, I wanted to keep it quiet in the house and I was usually tired and/or sleep deprived, mellow and relaxing music was in demand. Eno's music seemed like something we could both "enjoy" or at least appreciate on some level. I bought Discreet Music on vinyl and was fascinated as much by Eno's description of the process by which he recorded it and the events that had led to its creation as much as the music itself, which is to say, I found it subtlety captivating. Over the next few months, I acquired all of his "ambient" albums and enjoyed them all. I think Lucie likes them, too.

Eno released new albums this past winter as well as earlier this summer and to help promote his record last year, he posted this spoof of an interview with a musical journalist (played by Eno himself). The interview consists of several astute observations by the journalist, "Dick Flash," a surprisingly wry sense of humor from Eno and a semi-philosophical discussion of Eno's music and the role of music in general, as seen in a more "humanist" perspective.

Justice

2011-11-06T20:59:00.000-08:00

Abba Macarius said this about himself: 'When I was young and was living in a cell in Egypt, they took me to make me a cleric in the village. Because I did not wish to receive this dignity, I fled to another place. Then a layman joined me; he sold my manual work for me and served me. Now it happened that virgin in the village, under the weight of temptation, committed sin. When she became pregnant, they asked her who was to blame. She said, "the anchorite." Then they came to seize me, led me to the village and hung pots black with soot and various other things round my neck and led me through the village in all directions, beating me and saying, "This monk defiled our virgin, catch him, catch him," and they beat me almost to death. Then one of the old men came and said, "What are you doing, how long will you go on beating this strange monk?" The man who served me was walking behind me, full of shame, for they covered him with insults too, saying, "Look at this anchorite, for whom you stood surety; what has he done?" The girl's parents said, "Do not let him go till he has given a pledge that he will keep her." I spoke to my servant and he vouched for me. Going to my cell, I gave him all the baskets I had, saying, "Sell them, and give my wife something to eat." Then I said to myself, "Macarius, you have found yourself a wife, you must work a little more in order to keep her." So I worked night and day and sent my work to her. But when the time came for the wretch to give birth, she remained in labor for many days without bringing forth, and they said to her, "What is the matter?" She said, "I know what it is, it is because I slandered anchorite, and accused him unjustly; it is not he who is to blame, but such and such a young man." Then the man who served me came to me with full of joy saying, "The virgin could not give birth until she had said 'The anchorite had nothing to do with it, but I have lied about him.' The whole village want to come here solemnly and do penance before you." But when I heard this, for people would disturb me, I got up and fled here to Scetis. That is the originial reason why I came here.'

Let England Shake

2011-10-19T21:08:00.000-07:00

PJ Harvey's album Let England Shake was the recipient of the presitigious 2011 Mercury Prize, given annually to the British album of the year. This marked the second time she had won the award, a feat not accomplished previously. With no real familiarity with PJ Harvey other than hearing "Down By the Water" on the radio in high school -- a song I didn't particularly like -- I decided to check out the album.

The record takes on some heavy subjects, namely, nationalism and war. This is not a party record. It's a topical minefield of sorts (no pun intended) that Harvey navigates on Let England Shake, and to her credit, she takes each topic head on and manages to do so without sounding trite, overly simplistic, naive or even political. Her mission is to simply attempt to share the human experience of war and her own experience as a native of England. Rather than giving us a bloated or proseltyzing anti-war anthem in the vein of some of Neil Young's recent work, Harvey shares her poetic research and experience with mezmerizing, beautiful and often unsettling results; Harvey has a story to tell but allows the listener to arrive at their own conclusions.

An additional triumph of Let England Shake is that it manages to evoke feelings of both melancholy and joy silmultaneously. Much of the music has a joyful, almost child-like quality to it, with melodies that could easily find themselves in a nursery rhyme. The lyrics, however, are much darker and offer a stark contrast to the simple exhuberance of the music. This is true of several tracks, but most apparent on album closer, "The Colour of Earth," a disarmingly simple song that packs a heavy dose of devestation in each line:

Louis was my dearest friend/fighting in the Anzac trench/ Louis ran forward from the line/and I never saw him again./Later in the dark/I thought I heard Louis' voice/calling for his Mother, then me/but I couldn't get to him/He's still on that hill/20 years on that hill/nothing more than a pile of bones/but I think of him still/If I was asked I'd tell/the colour of the earth that day;/it was dull and browny red/"the colour of blood" I'd say.

I found the short films shot by filmmaker Seamus Murphy to accompany each song to be particularly affecting. I've included my favorite, "On Battleship Hill," below, but each film is well worth the viewing (do yourself a favor and watch them).

If you are the type that enjoys the DVD film commentary from the director as much if not more than the film itself, the below video is for you. Harvey gives an inside look into her unique creative process for Let England Shake. I found her to be suprisingly soft-spoken, thougtful and articulate. After hearing the record, I guess I should have known better.

Incision/Precision

2011-10-18T19:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, a good friend had successful heart surgery after it was discovered that his heart hadn't been functioning at its full capacity for much of his life.

It was with my friends upcoming surgery in mind that I read the following quote on the bus to work. It was a good reminder that the state of each of our hearts is in need of repair.

"What must dominate is love for Christ. Let this be in your head, your thought, your imagination, your heart and your will. Your most intense effort should be how you will encounter Christ, how you will be united to Him and how you will keep Him in your heart."

-- The Life and the Wisdom of Elder Porphyrios

Atheist Blues : )

2011-10-09T14:31:00.001-07:00

The Art of Protest

2011-10-08T16:08:00.000-07:00

Looking at the recent Wall Street protests in the news, I've wondered, perhaps naively, what a protester thinks he is accomplishing with his protest. I think the basic assertion or motivation for protesting is to attempt to drive systemic change (i.e. political, social, economic, etc.) in order to improve society. This is all well and good. If true, we could also say, at the danger of crude oversimplification, that the protester may believe that the ills of society are due in large part, if not primarily, to inadequate social systems.

I have written before (it has been several years now) why I hate politics and I think that my annoyance with the recent Wall Street protests strikes at the heart of the matter: while there is an obvious need for social systems, their inevitable and continual reform doesn't fix/change the root of the problem. The root of the problem, or, if you will, "the heart of the matter," is and always has been, the human heart. I find it interesting that the recent economic woes from which these protests are directed were not, in my understanding, the result of a misguided system as much as they were the result of the actions of misguided and corrupt (i.e. greedy) individuals.

Thus, the protests, at least for me, ring hollow. In many ways I see them in the same vein -- missing the mark -- as the conservative Christian Coalition of the 1980s and 90s, seeking to affect societal change through the legislation of morality. Different side of the same coin.

Of course, this does not mean that there is no value to having moral laws any more than it means that there is no place for political involvement. I just choose to not spend my time or energy in those arenas.

Abba Theodore of Pherme

2010-04-19T18:35:00.000-07:00

A brother said to Abba Theodore, 'Speak a word to me, for I am perishing,' and he said to him, 'I am myself in danger, what can I say to you?'

Sayings of the Desert Fathers, Benedicta Ward.

Holy Light

2010-04-04T20:15:00.001-07:00

Lazarus, not Kierkegaard

2010-03-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

This sickness is not unto death.

The True Nature of Fasting

2010-03-02T21:42:00.000-08:00

"Our Lenten abstinence does not imply a rejection of God's creation. But, living as we do in a fallen world and suffering as we do from the consequences of sin, both original and personal, are not pure; and so we have need of fasting. Evil resides not in created things as such but in our attitude toward them, that is, in our will. The purpose of fasting, then, is not to repudiate the divine creation but to cleanse our will. During the fast we deny our bodily impulses -- for example, our spontaneous appetite for food and drink -- not because these impulses are in themselves evil, but because they have been disordered by sin and require to be purified through self-discipline. In this way, asceticism is not a fight against but for the body; the aim of fasting is to purge the body from alien defilement and to render it spiritual. By rejecting what is sinful in our will, we do not destroy the God-created body but restore it to its true balance and freedom. In Father Sergei Bulgakov's phrase, we kill the flesh in order to acquire a body . . .

Ascetic self-discipline, then, signifies a rejection of the world, only in so far as it is corrupted by the fall; of the body, only in so far as it is dominated by sinful passions. Lust excludes love: so long as we lust after other persons or other things, we cannot truly love them. By delivering us from lust, the fast renders us capable of genuine love. No longer ruled by the selfish desire to grasp and exploit, we begin to see the world with the eyes of Adam in Paradise. Our self-denial is the path that leads to self-affirmation; it is our means of entry into the cosmic liturgy whereby all things visible and invisible ascribe glory to their Creator."

Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, "The True Nature of Fasting," The Lenten Triodion.

Person

2009-11-30T14:33:00.000-08:00

The truth is a Person
The truth is not my ego
The truth is not a moral code
The truth is not an intellectual argument
The truth is not a blog, blogging or blogger
The truth is not the Bible, but the Bible can be true
The truth is not a theology, but a theologian can be true
The truth is not a personality
The truth is a Person

Bob: he might be drunk

2009-11-24T08:22:00.001-08:00

Abba Benjamin

2009-11-19T22:47:00.000-08:00

As he lay dying, Abba Benjamin said to his sons, "If you observe the following, you can be saved. 'Be joyful at all times, pray without ceasing and give thanks for all things.'"

An evening in Rome

2009-11-15T21:40:00.000-08:00

The convent/hotel we stayed at is like many buildings that I observed in Rome -- it seems to resemble a fortress/compound as much as it does a residence. There are three buildings: the convent itself, which is connected to a second building in which rooms are rented by offices and a dining room/kitchen. There is also a third building in which rooms are rented (we were staying there) that is unattached to the others with a courtyard between the three. All of this is enclosed by a 8 ft. tall iron fence with pointy ends at the top.

The third night we returned to our convent/hotel at 10:45 PM, safely ahead of the curfew at 11 PM. The only problem was that everything was already locked up. The iron gate was closed, the door about 10 ft. or so behind it was shut and everything was dark inside.

In light of some of the stressful events that we faced the first day of our trip (we had trouble pulling out money from the ATM, initially finding where we were staying and for 15 tense minutes, thought we had lost our passports), the temptation at this point to be overly negative was great. However, we resisted and remained positive. At least for about 3 minutes, maybe less (ha!) . We rang the buzzer outside the gate figuring that it would quickly wake up the sisters inside. Unfortunately, it did not wake up the sisters but did have the effect of waking up many of the folks who were renting rooms. I was feeling somewhat desperate to try to notify someone prior to 11 PM so it would be known that we arrived prior to the curfew. I went around to the side of the compound which borders on the street to see if I could jump the fence and get inside the courtyard.

I found a ledge and jumped up to try to hop over. When I got up on the fence it was very close to a window that had some renters inside. A startled woman who must have heard me trying to climb the fence came to the window. Feeling distressed, I tried to explain what was going on to her using basic English and implore her to leave her room to wake the sisters up. My frantic attempt at communication seemed to only have the effect of further alarming the woman. I could hear several women speaking inside the room and someone whom I could not see said in a very monotone voice "we don't understand." With that, the window was closed.

With frustrations mounting, I hopped over the fence and climbed into the courtyard. Inside the courtyard, I tried to yell up to the rooms in which I thought the sisters were staying, "Hello! You locked us out a little early! We need to get inside to our room! Per favore! Per favore!"

The sisters did not wake up. I pounded on windows. I tried to throw little stones up to the nuns windows. I briefly contemplated vandalism. Nothing succeeded in waking up the sisters.

Meanwhile, Olivia had been continuously ringing the buzzer this entire time. It is quite loud and rang throughout the courtyard, which of course, woke up and kept everyone up (except the sisters). Someone yelled out of their window at me in Italian. Another person said they were calling the police. I think it was to help us but it may have been in the hopes of to trying to get us to shut up and stop ringing the buzzer.

I jumped back over the fence to check on Olivia. She was in tears. At this point, it must have been over half an hour since we arrived at the convent. It seemed futile to continue to ring the buzzer and we couldn't sleep in the street. Our best option seemed to be to climb the fence, get in the courtyard and try to fall asleep on some benches that were there.

It turns out the room with the woman that I had startled earlier contained 3 middle aged Polish women. Olivia's tears were able to transcend the barrier of language and the women were moved to compassion for our plight. Once inside the courtyard, we could see the Poles scurrying about in the hallway, trying to get to the convent side of the compound. Unfortunately, it was locked and they assured us it was "impossible" for them to get to the other side.

Exhausted and resigned to our fate of a night in the courtyard, we made our way to the benches. Just as we were lying down, we heard some commotion out in the street. I hopped up onto the fence to take a look and saw that two police officers had arrived. Both Olivia and I hopped over the fence again (were were getting bruises from the iron fence each time we went over) and tried to explain what was going on, which must have taken about 15 minutes since only one of the officers spoke a little English.

In the midst of it all, an intercom connected to the fence which we had tried speaking into to no avail inexplicably burst forth with the sound of a woman speaking in Italian. The sisters were awake! Within 10 minutes we were safely in our room at about 12:40 AM.

While waiting for the sisters to open the gate, one of the officers asked us what we did for a living. I told him "counselor." When he asked what sort of counselor, I mimed the motion of smoking a cigarette and said the word "quit." He started laughing as a few minutes earlier, a dude walked out of the building across the street and randomly came directly to us to ask for a light. We told him we didn't have one and Olivia remarked that we help people quit smoking for a living but at that point the officers didn't understand what she said. They got it now.

Apparently, the officer who knew a little English was trying to quit and let us know he was reading some sort of smoking cessation book. He was trying to describe what type of book it was and Olivia remarked (I'm not sure why) something to the effect of, "As long as it isn't by Dr. Oz, you should be okay." The officer looked at us with a funny expression on his face and said, "All my friends call me Dr. Oz; it's my nickname." We were shocked he even knew who Dr. Oz was and indeed there was a resemblance. After laughing for a bit at the coincidence, the officer spoke a few sentences to his partner in Italian and in the middle of the communication, clearly said the words "Ned Flanders." Olivia quickly asked them, "Did you just say Ned Flanders?" The officer started laughing and pointing at us (by this time we were all laughing), surprised that we caught onto what he was saying. From what I could gather, the officer who did not speak any English was lucky enough to have "Ned Flanders" as a nickname (Ned Flanders is one of the characters on the TV show "The Simpsons").

As we were being let into the convent I snapped two pictures of the officers, the first of which was unposed and the second, at the officers insistence, with them posing. The officer who didn't know any English must have known a few words since as I was getting ready to snap the second shot, he said "Facebook."

The following morning, it just so happened that the 3 Polish women were in the breakfast hall with us, along with a young Italian couple that had called the police (either on us or for us). We all had a good time recalling the previous nights' events, especially when someone rang the buzzer from outside the front gate!

Another day at the urinal

2009-11-10T21:58:00.000-08:00

I entered our office bathroom earlier today and found our CEO at one of the urinals, well, urinating. In a bold move, I chose the urinal next to him (of the two available) and to my surprise, he greeted my arrival with, "Hey, J.B." I responded with, "Hey, Tim."

We then continued urinating in silence for the next few moments. I briefly considered attempting to engage him in small talk mid-urination, but quickly decided against it as our relationship is just not at that level.

After he was done, he zipped up his pants and left. I believe that he washed his hands.

An answer

2009-11-09T22:01:00.001-08:00

"All will be saved; only I shall be lost."

-- St. Anthony

I hope it's not rear end

2009-05-14T22:12:00.000-07:00

I have been a fan of the "Real Men of Genius" ads by Budweiser for some time. The dude that sings the Top Gun theme has lent his pipes to "Mr. Backyard Bug Zapper Inventor," "Mr. Paranoid of the Ocean Guy," and "Mr. Indie Band Member." Without further ado, I present "Mr. Boneless Buffalo Wing Inventor." I wish I could take credit for the graphic that corresponds with the audio, but alas, I did not create it.

As you can see, this blog is quickly degenerating into a brief multimedia commentary.

Diappointed for the last time

2009-05-06T21:17:00.000-07:00

I am a longtime fan of the band U2. However, my loyalties have their limits. Bono has put me through a lot over the years. Each successive album has grown more bloated and overproduced and Bono subjects us to his proselytizing at every opportunity. As a result, in recent years my interest in the band has waned. In some ways I wondered, perhaps condescendingly, if my musical tastes had finally outgrown the band.

Nevertheless, when rumors of their new record began to circulate, I found my interest was piqued once again. I waited with anticipation for the new music to arrive, just as I had in years past.

In spite of my misgivings, I dared to hope. Looking back now, perhaps I should have known better. Still, none of my past disappointments with Bono and co. prepared me for viewing the video below.

I'm not sure which is worse, a bloated and overproduced album or not having the chops to play your songs live anymore. I'll let you decide. One thing is for sure, no amount of studio trickery is going to allow this masquerade to go on much longer.

My apologies for the profanity in the title of the video. However, after listening I can't help but wonder if the video hasn't been named aptly.

The Angel Cried

2009-04-24T10:38:00.001-07:00

A beautiful hymn sung once at the beginning of Lent, and then again on Holy Pascha and throughout the remainder of the bright season until Ascension (40 days). Here sung in old church Slavonic with the English translation.

The Angel cried to the Lady Full of Grace:
Rejoice, O Pure Virgin!
Again I say: Rejoice!
Your Son is risen from His three days in the tomb.
With Himself He has raised all the dead.
Rejoice, all ye people!
Shine, shine, O New Jerusalem,
The glory of the Lord has shone on you.
Exult now and be glad, O Zion,
Be radiant, O Pure Theotokos,
In the Resurrection of your Son!

Holy and Great Friday

2009-04-17T18:51:00.000-07:00

"When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, 'Woman, behold your son!' Then He said to the disciple, 'Behold your mother!'"

We worship Thy Passion, O Christ!

File under: sometimes truth is stranger than fiction

2009-04-04T16:56:00.000-07:00

While my beard is fairly non-descript, the flowing mullet-mane pictured to the left is most decidedly not. The wearer of this mullet seems to derive Sampson-like powers of Donkey Kong video game ability as well as supreme levels of arrogance and condescension. King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters is a documentary that chronicles the clash between twenty year Donkey Kong point champion Billy Mitchell (Mr. Mullet pictured to the left and according to Wikipedia, christened by Maxim magazine as "Dweebus Maximus Dorkus of both the 20th and 21st centuries") and challenger Steve Weibe. Weibe, "the nice guy," nevertheless ignores the poopy-pantsed pleas of his son for wiping aid during his record-breaking game attempt and weeps openly on camera when he is mistreated in a video game competition.

The documentary is fascinating and manages to evoke an intensity that belies its subject matter. Still, I found the rabid intensity of the adherents to this video game reality-world to be disconcerting, as wrapped up as they are into classic arcade video games. At times, watching the documentary was analogous to the morbid fascination that won't let you pull your eyes away from a train wreck. Nevertheless, as a study in sociology and my own past (at one time I was pretty heavy into video games sans mullet) King of Kong was well worthwhile.

On a slightly less serious note . . .

2009-03-31T20:03:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I was waiting at the bus stop downtown after work at about 9:30 PM. Unexpectedly, a man who I assumed to be homeless approached me and proclaimed in a loud voice, "Hey, you're the ultimate beard guy!" He then went on to share with me his own personal frustrations in the area of beard-growing while extolling the virtues of my "ultimate" beard.

I imagine that in this man's travels he has seen many an impressive beard. I am honored that he would bestow this title upon me, unless he was under the influence, in which case I would be less impressed.

Bowing Down Pt. 2

2009-03-23T20:40:00.001-07:00

One of the enduring memories I have of my brief stay in Paris comes from a rather unexpected place. While walking in the city's underground Metro system, my wife and I came upon a beggar facing the bustling passersby on her knees. Being on one's knees seems like a natural position for a beggar and perhaps you have observed someone begging for alms on their knees before. As obvious as it may seem, I had not seen this before nor have I seen it since. As I passed by this woman (without stopping or offering any aid) I was struck by the look of sincere desperation on her face. I was left with the distinct impression that she considered herself very much dependent on the help of others for her continued survival. Without this help she would perish. She was begging for mercy.

I could contrast this experience with my observances of the homeless in America (in reality, I pay little mind to the homeless around me or perhaps view them with disdain), many of which are equally unfortunate.

On one occasion several years ago, I was harassed by a homeless woman who believed I was laughing at her when she asked me for money. Likely mentally ill, this woman proceeded to yell and curse at me while I crossed the street and continued this behavior until I was out of earshot more than a block away. More recently, a man who purported to be stranded on the side of the road in my neighborhood blatantly lied to me about his situation so that I would give him money (which I did).

I do not share these stories with the intention of lessening our compassion for the poor and oppressed. But these stories do remind me of the depths our fallen nature can take us to when stripped of our comforts and faced with an uncomfortable reality.

The circumstances of the homeless, whether in Paris or in Seattle, may seem quite different from our own. Indeed, as I type this post sitting in relative luxury, I am reminded of the many differences. Still, I wonder if the dissimilarity between my own circumstances and that of a homeless beggar simply provides a convenient opportunity for me to avoid a potentially jarring reality: that I too am not an autonomous individual, I am not a rock or an island, but I am very much dependent on others for my basic survival.

This dependency is not purely physical but also spiritual. If I have eyes to see and ears to hear, I am reminded of this reality daily. Both in my thoughts and in my actions I am self-centered and not selfless. I am sick and in need of healing.

How might I react to this realization of my dependency? Like a spoiled child, do I become angry and curse God or my fellow brothers and sisters?

I believe we are best served by choosing to emulate the beggar in Paris, who when confronted with a desperate situation, seemed to respond in humble acceptance. Realizing her need for healing deliverance -- for salvation --she responded by taking the best course of action possible: getting on her knees and begging for mercy.

This could be dumb

2009-03-23T20:25:00.000-07:00

Apparently Neil Young has a new concept album coming out about electric cars. No one asked me but that seems pretty dumb.

Bowing Down

2009-03-05T14:55:00.001-08:00

It's impossible for a man to exist without bowing down; such a man couldn't bear himself, and no man could. If he rejects God, he'll bow down to an idol - a wooden one, or a golden one, or a mental one. They're all idolaters, not godless, that's how they ought to be called. Well, but how could there not be godless people as well? There are such as are truly godless, only they're much more frightening than these others because they come with God's name on their lips.

-- Dostoevsky, The Adolescent

Despair masquerades around us in any number of forms, sometimes overtly, but most often bubbling subtly just below the surface of our lives. At the risk of making a rather extreme statement, it seems to me that any path that does not contain sustained repentance will ultimately lead to some form of despair. May God have mercy on us all.

Lars and the Real Girl

2009-03-01T07:24:00.000-08:00

A description of the plot of Lars and the Real Girl will not do the film justice. Suffice it to say that Lars has a serious problem and the community in which he lives has an unexpected reaction to it. This reaction is portrayed in a manner that avoids condescension or naive sentimentality.

The criticism I have read of this film is that it is unrealistic; that if similar events as the film depicts were to unfold in "real life" the inevitable result would be drastically different. I believe that this criticism is accurate. However, in my mind this is not a failing of the film but its triumph. In fact, it may even be its point. We don't treat one another in the way Lars and the Real Girl depicts. But the film gives us pause to consider, what might happen if we did?

The Prayer of St. Ephraim of Syrian

2009-02-28T16:44:00.000-08:00

O Lord and Master of my life!
Take from me the spirit of sloth, despair and lust of power and idle talk.
But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience and love to Thy Servant.
Yea, O Lord and King! Grant me to see my own transgressions and not to judge my brother, for blessed art Thou unto ages of ages.

The Lenten prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian is based on the parable of the publican and the pharisee. The publican did not attempt to justify himself before God as did the Pharisee, but instead humbly cried, "God have mercy on me a sinner." This prayer is incorporated into many of the services of Great Lent and usually includes one or more full prostrations.

As we enter into Great Lent, please forgive me for how I may have offended you through my blog.

A vision of sin

2009-02-22T16:12:00.000-08:00

In various posts I have attempted, with limited success, to articulate the notion that my sin effects and affects all of humanity, not only myself and those whom I directly sin against. Or, as Dostoevsky writes in the Brothers Karamazov, that I am "responsible for the sins of all men."

Rather than rehash a topic that is beyond my grasp, I'll instead point toward a recent post from Glory to God for All Things, Our Common Life, for further exploration if the subject is of interest.

Credit where credit is due

2009-02-13T08:59:00.000-08:00

After the FFRF's shenanigans in recent months, it is refreshing to note differing perspectives within atheism. Musalaha finds the noteworthy article and discusses it here.

Full House of Metal

2009-02-08T17:40:00.000-08:00

I feel that I should post this before Great Lent begins.

The Word magazine

2009-02-07T11:08:00.000-08:00

We receive The Word magazine, the mostly monthly publication of the Antiochian Orthodox Archdiocese of North America. In the October issue, I found the article "Christians and Jews under Islam" to be fascinating.

Based on a paper delivered at a symposium at the Antiochian Village by Dr. Najib Saliba, the article describes in detail the history of the Middle East as one that has been marked by primarily peaceful, not violent interaction between the three Abrahamic religions: Islam, Judaism, and Christianity. In addition, these peaceful interactions came primarily during a near millenia of Islamic rule over Judaism and Christianity. Interesting, is it not? Saliba concludes:

I would like to emphasize that the treatment of the Christians and Jews by Muslim states, Arab or Ottoman, was far superior to the treatment Muslims and Jews received at the hands of Christian states, or Palestinians at the hands of the Jewish state of Israel.

One would need to read the entirety of Saliba's article to see the context and tone of the above quote. He seems to deal with this volatile subject in an even-handed manner that seeks to clarify and avoid generalizations and naivete.

My purpose here is to highlight an article that addresses what could be described as a willing ignorance on the part of western culture.

When finding oneself at the far end of the proverbial pendulum, it is easy to react in a manner that does not correct the problem but simply swings to the other side of said pendulum and in so doing, creates another set of problems. With his measured and informed stance, it is my opinion that Saliba's article brings us closer to the center (follow the magazine link to read the article, from October 2008, in its entirety).

I am not a cyber rock

2009-01-26T09:10:00.000-08:00

The internet provides a temptation: avoiding relationships with other people. Certainly correspondence via the internet can have its value, but there is no replacement for simply being in the presence of another human being.

Blogs afford me another opportunity: to claim my throne as self-appointed dictator of my own kingdom, in which I am the ultimate expert in any and all subjects. I can yield my words like blunt instruments, for I am an expert, after all. As the author of my blog or even in the enemy territory of another blog, I can instantaneously shoot from the hip, squashing the opposing argument like a miserable bug. In such a scenario, little thought needs to be made to the damage I am inflicting upon myself and the other person with whom I correspond. I become the monster that I am attempting denounce. I know, because I've done it myself many times.

In addition, I can easily misread the intentions of another and jump to conclusions without seeking clarifications, further escalating a potentially tense situation. I know, because I've done it many times.

You may be asking, "why are you blogging about how lousy blogging is?" Indeed the internet has many limitations and pitfalls. Of course, all dialogue and communication is faced with limitations. Blogs and the internet do afford us the opportunity to be in contact with those whom we otherwise might no be able to because of distance. We also may be able to discuss issues that wouldn't otherwise be addressed in regular day to day activity.

In short, the internet and blogs can, when put in the proper place, enhance life. It can also easily distract and insulate me from life as well; I neglect my family and those with whom I can share my life with on a daily basis, or Church and prayer fall by the wayside.

There is no substitute for sitting in the presence of another human being. Words aren't even necessary.

Top 10 of 08 (the remaining 5)

2009-01-17T22:05:00.000-08:00

Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Lie Down in the Light
When listening to Lie Down in the Light, it is easy to imagine oneself in a hootenanny amongst several musicians on the front porch of a house, having a grand 'ol time during a humid August evening in Georgia. Come to think of it, this is the closing scene of The Jerk, sans the ridiculous looking white man dancing amongst a family of black folks. Will Oldham adds his frail voice to like-minded artists who have gone before him such as Marvin Gaye, Bob Dylan, Jack White, U2 and Johnny Cash. Their art often seems to describe the feeling of being caught in the un-holy crossfire between the "sacred" and the "secular" and seemingly striving for the former. I've had to remind myself several time that some of the songs on this record are not from the hippy-dippy Enter the Worship Circle.

Lie Down In The Light - Bonnie "Prince" Billy

Calexico, Carried to Dust
After hearing the fabulous cover of "Goin' to Acupulco" by Calexico and Jim James in the film I'm Not There, I decided to pick up this record. Like a more distinct and less corporate Chevy's, Calexico bring a very unique brand of tex-mex to the world of rock n' roll. I'm guessing that several Calexico records have found their way into the collection of the members of Jars of Clay, as I was taken back by the similarities in sound between the groups, particularly the overlap between the styles of the lead vocalists.

Red Blooms - Calexico

Danielson, Trying Hartz
How lame is it to put a compilation album on your best of year-end list? Pretty. Still, the sounds and story of Danielson have grown on me considerably ever since viewing Danielson: A Family Movie last year. I'm happy to do what I can to spread the word for this band and apart from 2007's Ships, this is the best introduction to their work.

A Meeting With Your Maker - Da...

She & Him, Volume One
As nice as it may sound, I don't know if actress Zooey Deschanel's music has enough gusto to stand on its own. However, what about when combined with the talents of M Ward, who I consider to be one of the best singer-songwriters around today? Now I believe you have something. She & Him remind me somewhat of the relaxing and nostalgic sounds from the 50s and 60s that I used to tune into on KLXR AM 1230 with my alarm clock-radio in college.

Sentimental Heart - She & Him

Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend
It is rare when a band faces the chronological obstacles of: a hyped record prior to its release, backlash following the release and then general appreciation for the same record, all in the same year. That is my observation of Vampire Weekend in 2008. Comparisons to the solo work of Paul Simon, Peter Gabriel and David Byrne abound. I prefer to say that if you can write a song about an oxford comma and turn it into a pop masterpiece, you are a better man than I.

Oxford Comma - Vampire Weekend

A thought

2009-01-15T22:30:00.001-08:00

Get over your bad self.

Theophany

2009-01-06T18:54:00.001-08:00

Today we celebrate the feast of Theophany, also known as Epiphany in the west. Theophany commemorates the baptism of Christ and the revelation of the Trinity to all of humanity. This feast has been given a place of special importance in the Church, second only to Pascha (Easter). It has only been in recent times (the last several hundred years) that Theophany has been eclipsed by Nativity (and even more so its rampant commercialization).

When Thou wast baptized in the river Jordan O Lord, the worship of the Trinity was revealed. For the voice of the Father bore witness to Thee, when He called Thee His Beloved Son. And the Spirit in the form of a Dove, confirmed the truth of the word. O Christ our God, who hast appeared and hast enlightened the world Glory to Thee!

--Troparion of the Theophany

Top 10 of 08 (the first 5)

2009-01-05T15:40:00.001-08:00

You can read the disclaimer to last years list if you wish. Or the year before.

Fleet Foxes, Sun Giant EP/Fleet Foxes
In Seattle, it is pretty hip to appear like a bum and/or homeless. In this regard, Fleet Foxes fit the bill. Seattle music was once equated with the grunge scene of the early to mid 90s. Fleet Foxes prove that this is no longer the case, blending Beach Boys harmonies with folks music that sounds like it was ripped off from the nearby Renaissance festival. I believe that I'll be listening to this record in ten years and that more than anything else is my ultimate litmus test.

He Doesn't Know Why - Fleet Fo...

Blitzen Trapper, Furr
Blitzen Trapper are buds with Fleet Foxes and they have a lot in common: the same label (Seattle's Sub Pop), both are from the Pacific NW (Portland, Or and Seattle), have similar folk influences and, you know, the whole beard/homeless look. Blitzen Trapper seem to draw upon The Band and 60s-era English folk for inspiration, reminiscent (to me) of The Kinks' Muswell Hillbillies. "Furr" and "Sleepytime in the Western World" are standout tracks.

Sleepytime in the Western Worl...

Bob Dylan, Tell Tale Signs: The Bootleg Series Vol. 8
The voice; the moustache; the man. Not technically an album of new material, Tell Tale Signs is comprised of outtakes, live songs and alternate versions over the last twenty years of Dylan's career. Twenty years is a long time, but the strength of the material is apparent in the way in which the alternate takes stand on their own as fully realized versions of songs that went on to make one of Dylan's records. The fact that these alternate versions and b-sides eventually hit the cutting room floor but might still well be the envy of many a performer speaks volumes. Disclaimer: Dylan's voice now sounds like pure, unadulterated crap. However, I've said it before and I'll say it again: if fits the mood and lyrics of his songs. This last statement was not intended as a pun on the previous one.

Huck's Tune (from Lucky You So...

My Morning Jacket, Evil Urges
Olivia describes My Morning Jacket's latest record as, "what happens when you try to sound like Prince but aren't Prince." I would have to agree with this assessment of two songs on Evil Urges, the title track and the completely cringe-inducing "Highly Suspicious." As awful as these songs are, I don't feel that they completely derail the the charisma of front man Jim James or the rest of the record, which for me plays like a mixtape of MMJ's influences. "Thank You Too!" recalls the Bee Gees, "Sec Walkin" has a Motown feel, "Two Halves" features Roy Orbison harmonies and "Aluminum Park" would fit nicely as a standout track on any of the band's previous albums. If you listen to this song and are not at least tempted to play air guitar, something may be wrong with you.

Aluminum Park - My Morning Jac...

David Byrne and Brian Eno, Everything that Happens will Happen Today
From the lush opening chords of the title track on David Byrne and Brian Eno's first collaboration in 25 years, I knew I would dig the tune. The rousing, anthemic outro did not disappoint. Other strong tracks include "Strange Overtones" "Life is Long" and "Wanted for Life." I have read that this tandem, which previously teamed up on the critically acclaimed My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, set out to make a "secular gospel" record with this collaboration. I can't speak to that, but in this collection of songs I do sense the emotions of joy and hope in the midst of difficulty. Lyrics from "One Fine Day" certainly fit that mold: then a peace of mind fell over me/in these trouble times/I still can see/we can use the stones to guide the way/it is not that long 'til one fine day. I too aspire to strive for good and perseverance in times of hardship. At the risk of oversimplification, I'm still left with questions for this lyric by the end of the record: why? how?

Everything That Happens - David Byrne and Brian Eno

Snow is pretty

2008-12-30T09:07:00.000-08:00

I like the snow.
The snow is pretty.
In general, Seattle drivers are idiots.
Seattle drivers in the snow are really big idiots.

Click on the picture to view the original shot.

Merry Xmas

2008-12-28T15:26:00.000-08:00

The following was included in our parish's weekly e-newsletter (I did not write the article):

Every holiday season, newspapers, malls and television commercials urge you to take advantage of "Xmas sales and specials." The word "Xmas" is easier to use in advertisements, and as a result, it's become associated with the commercialization of Christmas. But some Christians take
offense to the word "Xmas" and have called for the abolishment of this truncated version of the word "Christmas."

So why is it so controversial, and where did it originate?

For some, Xmas is a dreaded four-letter word that reemerges every holiday season. The phrase is literally and symbolically distasteful, according to its critics. Not only does it "X" out Christ, the religious figure at the heart of the holiday, it also represents a secularization of Christmas, what some see as focusing more on the presents under the Christmas tree and less on religious observance and the birth of baby Jesus.

Other Christians, who feel that Xmas takes the "Christ" out of "Christmas," believe that the letter X is used because of its resemblance to a cross, or to avoid the proclamation of Jesus' name. This modern trend, they say, must be bucked, so that people can be reminded of the true meaning of Christmas.

But it turns out that "Xmas" isn't a modern convention at all.It was used commonly in 16th-century Europe, when many people began using the term "Christos," the Greek translation for Christ, to refer to Jesus. The letter chi in the Greek alphabet is symbolized by an X and translates to "ch." So along with the Greek letter rho for "r", the term Xmas was used to refer to the birth of Jesus as an informed abbreviation, not an offensive one. Xmas was a way for Christian scholars to refer to Jesus respectfully in an ancient language -- not to disrespect his name with a harsh symbol. In fact, variations of "Xmas"date back to 1021.

Source: http://christmas.howstuffworks.com/xmas.htm
<http://christmas.howstuffworks.com/xmas.htm>

A Blessed Nativity

2008-12-24T16:19:00.000-08:00

"Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel, which is translated, 'God with us.'"

-- Matthew 1:23

"Prepare O Bethlehem, for Eden has been opened for all!"
-- Orthodox Hymns in preparation for the Nativity

Have a merry humbug?

2008-12-06T22:58:00.001-08:00

My good friends at the Freedom from Religion Foundation are at it again, further exacerbating our hyper-sensitive world here in Washington State, where having certain beliefs is apparently tantamount to a threat upon the livelihood of others.

I've previously blogged about their proselytizing billboard campaign. This time they have a "religionless" display at the Washington State capitol in Olympia, along with a Nativity scene, a Menorah, and an Xmas tree (apparently the Hindus, Muslims and Buddists et. al, are out of luck).

The lack of foresight that can't seem to recognize or understand the difference between a religious display like a Menorah and an atheist article that openly disparages religious belief astounds me. This FFRF display is nothing short of socially acceptable bigotry.

According to this article, the FFRF manifesto, er . . . vendetta, uh . . . I mean display (yeah, that's it) at the capitol turned up missing within a few hours of being put up. The FFRF quickly replaced it, along with plans to include the well-known religious directive, "thou shalt not steal." Seriously, FFRF? It's easy to imagine that the inclusion of this commandment (held as sacred by more than one major religion) was meant to further ridicule religious belief but you seem oblivious of the contradiction here. I thought the purpose of religion was to brainwash? Now you use it to your advantage, even in jest, when necessary?

I find the foundationally contradictory nature of your organization unfortunate (I would like to note that while I do not share in the belief, I accept atheism as a valid belief system). I find the increasing acceptance of the FFRF in our society at large to be a disturbing trend and, as it bodes for the future, more than a little scary.

Another worthwhile quote

2008-12-04T21:04:00.000-08:00

"I have seen pride lead to humility. And I remembered him who said: Who hath known the mind of the Lord? The pit and offspring of conceit is a fall; but a fall is often an occasion of humility for those who are willing to use it to their advantage."

-– St. John Climacus

And another reason to cry, Glory to God for all things!

Sex sells

2008-11-30T16:33:00.000-08:00

During this time of the year I am reminded of several things, not the least of which the rampant consumerism of our culture. Most have probably seen the recent story of a Wal-Mart worker in Long Island who was trampled to death by a horde of shoppers anxious to get their mitts on one of the limited number of flat screen televisions.

Here in Seattle we like our coffee. In addition to the chains like Starbucks and Tully's, we have small coffee stands in what seems like every other parking lot. The latest trend around Lynnwood seems to be the "soft-core porn" coffee-stand business model, with names like "Java Jugs" advertising baristas in lingerie and others stands announcing, "sexy barista babes."

I am not making this up.

Dostoevsky

2008-11-20T20:21:00.000-08:00

the moment you make yourself sincerely responsible for everything and everyone, you will see at once that it is really so, that it is you who are guilty on behalf of all and for all. -- Dostoevsky

I was reminded recently that in order to be convinced that evil exists in the world one only need commit themselves to obey the commandments of God, to pray, to be merciful, pure in heart, poor in spirit, peacemaking and love their enemies. When I attempt to humble myself before my brothers and sisters I need little convincing that evil is alive and well in the world both without, and even more disturbingly, very much alive and well within.

Danielson

2008-11-16T23:02:00.000-08:00

My own idea on what it means to be a "Christian artist" has fluctuated over the years. An interesting entry into the discussion of this topic is found in the 2006 documentary, Danielson: A Family Movie, which chronicles the story of a family that started a band when the youngest member was 11, built a following in the independent music scene, toured worldwide in support of records produced by Steve Albini, and eventually were eclipsed in popularity by one of its backing instrumentalists (Sufjan Stevens). Most interesting to me about the Danielson famile is their music itself, which I can only attempt to describe as a joyfully abstract Vacation Bible School soundtrack.

The video for "Idiot Boksen" can be viewed below; I apologize that a portion of the right side of the video is cut off due to the formatting size of my blog.

Exclusive election day analysis

2008-11-04T16:45:00.001-08:00

I have often wondered what the purpose is of putting down that thin tissue paper on the toilet before being seated. It seems to me to be rather noisy, uncomfortable and unnecessary. I have noticed the high frequency with which those in my particular office use the "Discreet Seat" tissue paper before what I would assume is either a bowel movement or a well-choreographed attempt to avoid work. Call me old fashioned, but I for one do not have any qualms about sitting my bare behind on a toilet seat with no other barrier, "Discreet Seat" or otherwise.

Studies show that a much larger percentage of germs are found on the average desk than the average toilet seat.*

*I do not have a citation for this particular claim, but I did read it somewhere.

St. John of Krondstadt

2008-10-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

"Never confuse the person, formed in the image of God, with the evil that is in him; because evil is but a chance misfortune, an illness, a devilish reverie. But the very essence of the person is the image of God, and this remains in him despite every disfigurement."

-- St. John of Kronstadt

In the Eastern Orthodox Church, we recently commemorated the life of St. John of Kronstadt on October 19th. A friend forwarded this quote to me. It presents quite the challenge: to avoid demonizing those with whom we disagree or have hurt us deeply; to understand and withhold judgment of 'the other'; to see God in every person we encounter.

More on the life of St. John of Kronstadt can be read here.

Demons

2008-10-20T20:33:00.000-07:00

My friend, I've been lying all my life. Even when I was telling the truth. I never spoke for the truth, but only for myself, I knew that before, but only now do I see . . . Oh where are those friends whom I have insulted with my friendship all my life? And everyone, everyone! You know, perhaps I'm lying now; certainly I'm also lying now. The worst of it is that I believe myself when I lie. The most difficult thing in life is to live and not lie . . . and . . . and not believe one's own lie, yes, yes, that's precisely it! (Dostoevsky, Demons).

In recent days I have been aware of my limitations and even worse, my willing ignorance of my limitations. I am quick to judge, self-centered, impatient and often moved to anger. I wonder if any thought of mine (or words written on a public blog) is not tainted by pride (and false humility). These are not conclusions drawn from a view of human nature as being totally depraved or of an angry God who cannot tolerate sin. Rather, it is born from a view of God as Love, and my willing choice to betray that Love, moment by moment, day by day, both consciously and unconsciously.

May God grant each of us the grace to turn, to repent from our sin and self-delusion and to embrace the cure for our self-inflicted illness; a cure that for most of us is not brought about in a single moment, but rather a lifetime (and more) lived in repentance.

Fr. Thomas Hopko

2008-10-10T10:04:00.000-07:00

In recent months I have been avidly listening to the podcasts on Ancient Faith Radio of Fr. Thomas Hopko, Dean Emeritus of St. Vladimir's Orthodox Seminary. In some ways, Fr. Tom reminds me of one of my history professors in college, Don Claspill. When listening to them speak in a seemingly endless stream on a particular subject, one gets the sense that they could go on for quite some time and that it would be beneficial to let them do so.

Recently Fr. Tom has spoken on the subject of "Church and State" (a series in which the first post was on September 25th) which addresses and expands upon some of the recent questions I have posted on in regards to politics. "A Chrsitian Response to Terrorism" (September 12th) is an excellent discussion of good and evil (and a provacative one at that). "The Meaning of Life" (September 12th) is a good devotional introduction to Fr. Tom's style. Highly recommended (hopefully not as a distraction from the spiritual life, but as an aid toward its deepening).

Tell Tale Signs

2008-10-01T21:59:00.001-07:00

For those who may or may not be interested, NPR is streaming Bob Dylan's new album, The Bootleg Series Vol. 8 - Tell Tale Signs: Rare and Unreleased 1989 - 2006, which will be released next Tuesday. As much as I like Dylan's trio of 60s albums Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited, and Blonde on Blonde, I enjoy his most recent work even more. Included in Vol. 8 of the Bootleg Series are outtakes and alternate versions of songs from his most recent albums, Oh Mercy, Love and Theft, Time Out of Mind (my personal favorite), and Modern Times.

I've grown that mustache once before. You better believe I'm going to grow it back again.

The Enlargement of the Heart

2008-09-26T14:02:00.000-07:00

A quick quote -- one that is simple yet at the same time very difficult:

By shame we extinguish shame. That is why the sacrament of confession is so powerful and so regenerating. We bear a little shame on earth for the sake of the Lord, and He gives us such grace, so as to be able to overcome our sins and receive healing for our brokenness. Therefore, becasue He Himself, in His way down, bore the "cross of shame", the more shame we bear the better, the more grace we shall receive for our healing and for a glorious salvation . . . And so it is unavoidable for us, too, to bear a little shame, if we wish to follow Him. He bore shame for our salvation, the cross of shame, and when we share that shame for His sake, according to His commandment, and in order to reconcile ourselves to Him, He considers that a response of gratitude, and He measures out His gifts to us.

-- Archmandrite Zacharias, The Enlargement of the Heart

I am a poor example of bearing shame on a number of levels. I am nonetheless inspired and energized by quotes (and more importantly the lives from which they spring forth) such as these, which call me not to question difficulty in life, but to give thanks for it. Glory to God for all things.

Po-mo, Po' me

2008-09-18T13:56:00.000-07:00

This person:

a) is in a photo shoot for Rolling Stone magainze with photographer Annie Leibovitz

b) has very likely spent too much time pondering his appearance in the mirror

c) is a Seattle Mariners fan

d) ate way too much curry last night

e) is an ultra-hip pomo Christian writer

I'm sure Donald Miller is a good guy but I can't help but give him a hard time for this picture.

Warning . . .

2008-09-09T11:50:00.000-07:00

. . . the following quote contains some political "buzz words" (I hear there are some elections coming up soon). Part of my frustration with politics is its inability to deal with the ills of the human condition. Dostoevsky defines this as a great "blasphemy" against God:

"[this blasphemy is] denial not of God, but of the meaning of His creation. The whole of socialism emerged and began with the denial of the meaning of historical reality and went on to a program of destruction and anarchism . . . the scientific and philisophical refutation of the existence of God has already been abandoned, present-day practical socialists are not occupied with it at all, instead they deny with all their might God's creation, God's world, and its meaning. Here in this alone does modern civilization find its nonsense."*

As a Christian, I am forced to deal with the tension of my responsibility as a citizen and the realization that (in my opinion) no matter who I vote for, it involves a compromrise of my faith and casting a vote for, in the words of a friend, "the evils of two lessers" who willingly perpetuate the blasphemy Dostoevsky describes above.

This is not to say that political system is void of any value or that some temporal concerns are frivolous or even purely temporary. Certain moral issues facing this country are black and white. However, deciding which party to vote for, with their secular "answers" for eternal problems, is not.

Not only do I disagree with the means by which our political parties seek to fix societal ills, I am cynical of a political system that is BASED on disagreement with one another. From my viewpoint it is the political system itself, not the polarizing issues or the media (which Donald Miller and others have recently scapegoated as a reason for the current state of polarization in our country) which deserves the primary blame. How are we supposed to be "unified" when a president who wins the election "easily" with 60% of the popular vote still has millions of people who voted for the other candidate and disagree, even strongly with his/her position? I'm no genius but that doesn't sound like a recipe for unity.

*quote taken from the introduction written by Richard Pevear to the novel Demons by Fyodor Dostoevsky, translated by Pevear and Volokhonsky, pg xx.

I've seen a Carman concert in the round

2008-09-09T11:48:00.000-07:00

You know you are feeling tired and/or possibly getting sick if you find yourself unable to move from the couch while watching a Carman concert on TBN.

Deep thoughts

2008-09-02T15:07:00.001-07:00

I hate politics.

That is all.

Nothing to fear, nothing to doubt

2008-08-22T15:32:00.001-07:00

Ten years ago, when I was still in college along with my good friends Paul and Jake, we decided to drive from Redding, CA to Salem, OR to try to get seats to a sold-out Radiohead show during the tour in support of their album, OK Computer. To try to ensure that we were able to get tickets, we arrived at the Salem Armory quite early in the afternoon, so early that no one else had yet arrived for the evening show. We could hear the band rehearsing inside the venue, and of course we wished that somehow we could be a fly on the wall inside, listening unnoticed to one of the world's biggest bands rehearse. I don't remember how it happened, but one of us must have pulled on the door out of joking desperation, fully expecting it to be locked. We were surprised and shocked to find the door was in fact unlocked. Like giggling school-girls, the three of us immediately walked in without a moment's hesitation.

What we found was Thom Yorke playing a song by himself on acoustic guitar and several roadies playing Frisbee in front of the stage. An odd sight to say the least. An errant toss landed at our feet and a short man with spiky blond hair retrieved the Frisbee from us (it turns out this was not a roadie but the drummer for the opening act, Spiritualized). The expressions on our faces must have made us look obviously out of place, because after a few minutes a woman security guard in her mid-40s promptly ejected us from our pre-concert performance fantasy.

Now, ten years on, I went to see Radiohead again this past week with my wife Olivia (she likes Radiohead quite a bit). I didn't really know what to expect for the show since I really haven't been too big a fan of the band's most recent records, apart from their latest, In Rainbows. The show however, was nothing short of spectacular. The band was locked in and having a good time. Thom Yorke seemed to be comfortable in his skin, which if you are familiar with some of the lyrics he writes, may come as a bit of a surprise (I know it was to me). I felt that the newer, more ambient and electronic songs translated surprisingly well live, with many of the arrangements expanded to include an organic element which I deemed missing from the recorded versions.

Oddly enough, the band screwed up badly enough at both shows that they needed to stop a song and completely start it over; "The Bends" at the show in Salem and "Faust Arp" (they actually had to restart the song twice) in Seattle. The video gives a good feeling of the general mood of the band. In between the screw-ups Johnny Greenwood and Thom Yorke do an impromptu cover of Neil Young's "Tell Me Why" and drummer Phil Selway leaves a tip.

Imagine No Religion

2008-08-13T11:31:00.000-07:00

I was greeted by this billboard earlier today after being bused into downtown Seattle from the 'burbs. At the risk of sounding reactionary, I was quite taken aback by the sight. My first thought was that in a country founded in part on the freedom of religion it was ironic that I would see an advertisement for a foundation that proclaims freedom from religion (is it just me or is freedom from religion not an inherent option within freedom of religion?).

The Freedom from Religion Foundation (FFRF) website states that their purpose is to act as a "watchdog" for the separation of Church and State. A lifetime member of the FFRF is quoted as saying that the billboards intention is not to question any specific religion or faith but to proclaim that society can only reach its full potential through the scientific method. I would beg to differ. I infer from his words that religion (okay, not a specific religion, but religion in general? All religion?) gets in the way of progress. The FFRF website proclaims that

The history of Western civilization shows us that most social and moral progress has been brought about by persons free from religion.

Like Hitler and Stalin? Is this statement not an overt claim concerning the negativity of religion, that on a foundational level religion is mutually exclusive with what the FFRF deems as "progress"? Is the implied eradication of religion a means to this end ("progress")? Are the members of FFRF feeling threatened by the free choice of others to practice their respective religion?

I would imagine such a protest against religion is best seen in the context as a reaction against religious fundamentalism. A friend of mine has posted on this topic recently here. I can't help but wonder if the FFRF is unwittingly fostering its own brand of fundamentalism?

Perhaps this posting is an overreaction? Should I view such an organization as lending itself to the promotion of atheism and agnosticism as a viable worldview and nothing more? If the FFRF were simply promoting their worldview as viable, it would in no way threaten my own personal beliefs or even my choice to have a belief. What bothers me is not the overt language of promotion but the overt and implied disparagement of religious belief. Does this message not run counter to the "freethought" claim of the FFRF?

If the past 100 years of human history has taught us anything, it is that fascism can have an ugly, dangerous and conservative face bent toward evil masquerading in the name of "progress." I fear the direction in which our society is currently headed, our evil clown bent on progress at all costs has changed masks and tactics; he has traded in his conservative mask for a liberal one. The end result of "progress" remains but the means by which to achieve that end has changed.

I always wanted a pantry

2008-07-29T08:19:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it is because in our current apartment the kitchen is incredibly tiny. Whatever the reason, as of Wednesday afternoon, Olivia and I will have to wait no longer; we will become the proud owners of a condo twenty minutes north of Seattle in Lynnwood.

It is a condo that looks like any other number of condos. Nevertheless, it will be our own condo and that is exciting. It also includes a pantry.

Priusville

2008-07-20T19:44:00.000-07:00

Er . . . I mean Seattle.

My Hollywood Weekend Pt 2

2008-07-17T08:52:00.000-07:00

While visiting my brother a few weeks back, we had a good conversation with one of his friends about Christianity and the spiritual life. This particular friend of his had been raised in the South and reared on Protestant Christianity. Both of his parents and were pastors and his family traveled around the nation together as a ministry. Now, he is married with a little girl (and a second on the way) and runs his own recording studio, which makes it difficult for him to attend church with any regularity.

As he was discussing his situation he made a statement (I'm paraphrasing from memory) that stuck in my mind: I look at my recording studio as a ministry that I have in which I can love other people. Does God really care if I go to church or not? I don't think so. What He cares about is that I love other people wherever I'm at and whatever situation I'm in.

To be sure, there's a lot that I can agree with in this statement. Nevertheless, I find it interesting that in this statement there is a dichotomy between loving others and attending church. In a sense, you could interpret my friend as saying that it is not necessary to attend church in order to better love others. Is it safe then to infer that attending church may make it more difficult to love others as well? Does that make any sense?

At any rate, I am genuinely interested in what any readers of this blog have to say about this subject (if you're interested). What do you think about this dichotomy? If it exists, how can it be resolved? What does it mean to truly love another?

Seattle gay-census underway

2008-06-28T09:01:00.000-07:00

With yesterday being the beautiful day that it was, I decided to take a walk on my lunch break about six blocks to Irwin's to purchase a delicious iced coffee beverage. On the way there I called my wife to see how her day was going, but was interrupted when a truck that had approached me from behind (no pun intended) stopped a few feet after it had passed me on a fairly busy two-lane road. The driver yelled out to me, "Hey, are you gay?" I was startled but quickly replied, "Yes." The driver then pumped his fist in the air and yelled "Yessssss!" before speeding off. Okay.

So, if you happen to be in Seattle this weekend, be aware that two young males in a black Toyota truck are apparently conducting their own grassroots gay-census.

2008-06-27T10:17:00.000-07:00

The long and gray winter months can be a bit too much to stomach in Seattle. The water that surrounds the city reflects what is above it, usually low and gray cloud cover which can have a claustrophobic effect as the months wear on. Seattle in the winter and spring can be a dreary place to be. However, it is weather from weeks like this past one (and hopefully continued in the forecast for the weekend) that remind me why I live in this city and in this climate. There is something spectacular about the plentiful green trees in this region backdropped by a brilliant blue sky and equally brilliant blue water which is surrounded by majestic mountains to both the east and the west.

Driving back home from Minnesota a few years ago on I-90 I took in a lot of beauty along the way. The badlands in Wyoming and South Dakota, the mountains in Montana. Still, my biased eyes felt the views were increasingly spectacular the further I headed west.

The weather/climate I experienced while living in Minnestoa was extreme: frigid winters and hot and humid summers. This was quite a change from the mild NW climate that I was accustomed to. In some ways this change in climate mirrored the life I lived in Minnesota: it was an extreme time in many ways.

Upon my return to Seattle I found that I needed to adjust to the mildness of life again -- both literally and figuratively. Not only had I grown used to a more extreme climate, on a foundational level, I had also grown used to instability on both a spiritual and relational level. Now, some of what I learned and experienced through this instability was good, but some if it was also bad.

In my upside down world a return to stability at that time seemed . . . too safe. Perhaps even dishonest. Life is complicated and hard, right? In that context, admitting there might be "answers" to my questions about God, life and other people made me uncomfortable with myself. If there were "answers" to my questions on some level, than that required that I change and reorient myself again.

Looking back now, I feel that I craved stability even if I feared it at the same time. I had equated stability with a static life that contained no growth or change. Of course, that is a potential pitfall. Still, I pray that I am growing and learning each day and continuting to hold the paradox of what I know and believe along with the infintely more that is beyond my human comprehension.

And hey, it's supposed to be in the 90s this weekend in mild 'ol Seattle. I guess even stability can have some variety perks (I apologize for the cheesy weather tie-in at the end).

My Hollywood Weekend

2008-06-18T10:57:00.000-07:00

A few weeks back I left the dreary, hipster-loving and cynical enclave I like to call Seattle to visit my brother Bryan in West Hollywood. For a weekend, I lived the "L.A. lifestyle." We spent quite a bit of time in a recording studio tracking for a song that is going to be pitched to Keith Urban, we went out to eat for every meal, I listened to a guy my brother works with/for talk about writing a song for Lionel Ritchie's next record (he referred to him as "Lionel"), we watched an all-white reggae band with a lead singer who took his shirt off to reveal a massive Star of David necklace at the Whiskey A Go Go, and bumped into B.J. Novak. You know, the usual.

My brother is one of those people who doesn't seem too concerned with living life by the unspoken "rules." He says he's going to do something semi-ridiculous (at least to a "realist" like me) and then he usually does it. By the end of the weekend I felt like saying, You know, at 29 you aren't supposed to be an Executive VP of a company (Neoganda -- he's explained to me what they do but I still don't get it) and have a loft in the Hollywood Hills facing the Hollywood sign. Maybe he makes a ton of money or is in debt up to his eyeballs. Probably both. Nevertheless, I find his inner-drive inspiring and I'm proud of him.

One morning my brother woke me up and pointed down to the valley below. From my vantage point on the floor next to his bed I could see a massive plume of smoke rising from the giant Universal Studios complex. With a smile my brother said, "there's a fire at Universal Studios." I don't know if it was that I wasn't fully awake or the way that my brother said it, but I dismissed the fire as a film shoot for a movie, rolled over and went back to sleep. My brother woke me up again an hour later and showed me the current front-page story at CNN.com of the fire, which apparently was not the result of a film shoot but an out of control fire that was engulfing Universal Studios. The picture on the front page looked like it could have been taken from my brother's deck. Weird.

Another fun part of the trip for me was visiting the virtual vinyl-wonderland of Amoeba Records. The place is massive and disorienting but also includes the largest collection of new vinyl records that I have ever seen. It gave me the opportunity to get started on my annual Top 08 of 08, which I had begun to fear would be incomplete as we are now almost half-way through the year and I had not yet found any new music that had struck my fancy enough for me to recommend it to others. That all changed at Amoeba Records as I purchased Bonnie "Prince" Billy's latest, Lie Down in the Light. Stay tuned at the end of the year for a review if you wish.

To wet your appetite, I will close with a video parodying Kanye West's song, "Can't Tell Me Nothing" in which Bonnie "Prince" Billy participated (he's the skinny guy in the video). If you are familiar with his music, it makes a funny video that much funnier.

Christian-Muslim relations

2008-05-29T10:00:00.000-07:00

One issue that I haven't seen (which isn't saying much since I am embarrassingly ignorant of current events) addressed in the mainstream media is the effect that the war in Iraq has on the Christians of that region. I recently listened to a podcast (posted on April 25th) that speaks to this potentially volatile subject and seems to deal with it in a mature fashion that avoids demonization.

I have a friend who has addressed the issue of engagement with those who are regularly outside the boundaries of our daily comfortable existence, particularly in areas partially related to this issue. This podcast offers several concrete examples of what such an incarnational engagement might "look like" which I found to be helpful.

Surprised by Christ

2008-05-20T14:21:00.000-07:00

Our very own parish priest recently had his life memoir published. After hearing excerpts read to us during our catechism, I am looking forward to reading the book.

Fr. James has lived a full life; he was raised in Orthodox Judaism in Queens by parents who had their faith undermined by the Holocaust, converted to Christianity only to be disowned by his parents (they held a living funeral for him), helped found Jews for Jesus, moved to Berkeley where he was one of the "Jesus People" in every sense of the word (check out the book's pictures!) before his immersion in Scripture and Church history led him to Orthodox Christianity.

The book is available from Conciliar Press and Amazon.

"Surprised by Christ is an autobiography, an intellectual history, and a conversion story, and more than these, conveys a spiritual and theological vision in a message that touches people from many different backgrounds. That vision is of the Living God revealed in Jesus Christ, who is the fulfillment of the Old Covenant, the life of the Faithful, the hope of the despairing, and the motivation for those who strive to preach the Gospel in all its integrity."

-- Hieromonk Jonah, Abbot of St. John of San Francisco Monastery in Manton, California (from the foreword to the book)

The Art of Protest

2008-05-14T14:17:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder if we live in a country full of protesters. Every time I turn around it seems like someone is protesting something and maybe it's getting a bit out of hand. Some make protests for the environment. Some protest against gay people. Some others protest against the war in Iraq. When the Dalai Lama came to Seattle a few weeks ago, people decided to protest against him. Some people even protest Starbucks. I think that entire religious movements in this country could be understood in the context of protest.

This is not to say that I am opposed to everything that could be perceived as a "protest." A lot of godly work is done to help the poor and those who are marginalized in our society. St. James writes that pure and faultless religion is taking care of orphans and widows in their distress. One of my favorite descriptions of Christianity is by G.K. Chesterton, who described it as "a rebellion against rebellion."

In my own life, I have wondered how pure my motives often are when it comes to activities that could be considered a protest. I wonder if even my "selfless acts" are nothing more than a deceptive way to exert my own ego. It makes me feel good to help someone else in need. Furthermore, I have wondered if in reality I am truly protesting against who/what I think I am? Perhaps when I hand out sandwiches to the homeless in reality I am protesting against what I perceive to be the absence of God?

On a slightly lighter note, I ran across two videos, one from the writers of the Daily Show and the other from the Daily Show itself, that illustrate in part what I'm saying. The first is a sort of parody of protests and the second is an example of one of the most ridiculous protests I have ever seen.

Keep your eyes peeled

2008-05-07T07:33:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday was a typical gray, spring Seattle day; Olivia had a baby shower to go to and so I had some free time on my hands. After working exclusively from home the last two weeks (normally I work from the office twice a week), I knew that I needed to get out of the house. So, I did a few chores around the house and then headed out on the town. I got some coffee, went to a few record stores and looked around. While driving between my stops I listened to the Mariners game on the radio.

I don't know if I had the "blahs" or what, but between the gray day outside and another Mariners defeat, I found myself sitting in my car in the Golden Oldies parking lot, listening to AM radio and vacantly looking outside at the world around me. At this point, I happened to look out across 45th and catch the sight of what appeared to be a squadron of Stormtroopers.

Now, of all the sights that I might have expected or even anticipated to see on this day, Stormtroopers would be pretty low on my list. For a fraction of a second, my mind snapped out of its doldrums and raced with various questions. Is there a movie being shot? Did I somehow happen into an alternate dimension? Are we under attack? Has it been discovered that I am indeed a Jedi? My dreams vanished fairly quickly when it dawned on me that the Stormtroopers were assembled outside of a Comic book store, waving as the many passersby honked at the spectacle.

Someone in movies once said that life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get. I would have to agree with him. Keep your eyes peeled.

Snow

2008-04-18T18:28:00.000-07:00

Request to the local Seattle media: when there is a forecast for snow or if it does indeed snow an entire inch or so (perish the thought), could you please not report the event as if the fifth horseman of the apocalypse has arrived? Please? I'm sure it is ratings driven but the fear-mongering is getting out of hand.

You've been Rick-rolled

2008-04-16T17:48:00.000-07:00

In our cynical and apathetic world, it is rare when true beauty breaks through the weathered and worn cracks of our banal existence. True beauty brings a welcome shower that quenches our thirst and cleanses us from the dirt on our hands. The world looks different to us in light of this beauty. Instead of walking through life staring at our shoes, we have a new spring in our step. Instead of being bent over under our heavy labor, we are able to stand tall, come what may. The sun seems to be shining that much brighter. The birds are chirping. Even the dirt on which we stand is a miracle!

We live life expecting so much and hoping for so little. Having a glimpse of true beauty changes all that. May we all be changed.

The means never justifies the end

2008-04-14T15:32:00.000-07:00

"You have gone far wrong. Thirst was made for water; inquiry for truth. What you now call the free play of inquiry has neither more nor less to do with which the ends of intelligence was given you than masturbation has to do with marriage."
--C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce

Growing up, there was a parsonage next door to the church where my Dad was pastor. In front of this parsonage was a wooden staircase leading up to a second-story entrance to the home. One day my brother and I, in a fit of pre-teen mischievousness, thought it would be fun to peel back some of the shingles that we could reach on the parsonage roof from that second-story entrance and fling them as far as we could into the parking lot below.

As I reflected on this memory, the immediate question I had was, "What were we thinking!?" We knew what we were doing was a) wrong and b) would get us into trouble shortly. Yet, we still did it and thought it was pretty fun as well. I can only speculate now what our immature motivations were at the time but undoubtedly the thrill of doing something risque factored into our behavior. In our clouded minds it felt good on some level to peel back the shingles and see how far we could throw it. We were also at the age where we were trying to push at established boundaries to see what we could get away with. Would we really get into trouble?

I have made these evaluations of the pre-teen me from a distance, looking back at my childhood memory with disapproval and disdain. Obviously I've come a long way since then. But have I? Sometimes I wonder how much I have really grown up, if at all. Maybe I just do a better job of hiding my true motivations now. How often I am faced with a decision or situation that requires personal effort on my part (helping my wife when I'm tired, the list goes on and on), and knowing how I should respond (yes! objectively knowing!) I instead passively choose what is easy and comfortable for me (usually to my own detriment I might add).

I read the above quote (passed on to me from a friend who had said it had haunted him for years) in a similar context. "Questions" are certainly a buzz word in Chrisitianity these days. Questions are good in the sense that they are a means to an end. However, as Lewis points out, questions lose their value when they become an end in and of themselves. "Questions" can easily spiral beyond their useful purpose and instead become feelble and immature attempts to justify myself before God. Questions should not be asked if one has no intention of finding an answer. Instead they become a convenient excuse for my own laziness or indecision and I use the same naive rationalization process I used to justify tearing perfectly good shingles off a roof and throwing them down to the ground.

A wonderful first week of baseball.

2008-04-08T11:33:00.000-07:00

Great Lent

2008-03-25T21:21:00.000-07:00

A little over two weeks ago Great Lent began in the Orthodox Church. Last year we celebrated Easter (or Pascha, Greek for Passover) on the same day as Western Christianity but this year we are several weeks later (April 27th), as the day is reckoned differently.

The week prior to Lent I had the opportunity to listen to a lecture by His Eminence, Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, perhaps the most well known Orthodox teacher and scholar in the world today. The lecture took place at St. Demetrios Greek Orthodox Chuch in the Montlake neighborhood of Seattle following Vespers. As far as I know, his lecture on Lent and the meaning of fasting was not recorded, but another recent interview concerning the sacramental life can be listened to here (posted on March 7th), some of which was repeated in the lecture that I attended. If nothing else, the interview is worth listening to since His Eminence sounds as if he is hosting Masterpiece Theater. All kidding aside, the interview is beneficial and well worth listening to, even if one is not Orthodox.

The beginning of Lent is inaugurated by Forgiveness Vespers. As the title of the service suggests, every member of the parish quite literally asks everyone else present at the service, one by one, for forgiveness. All of this takes place simultaneously in a sort of forgiveness conga-line around the perimeter of the nave. As simple and straightforward as the service may sound, I have found it to be one of the most memorable and profound that I have ever attended. As each person humbles themselves before the other, something quite special and unusual (or is it natural?) happens that defies description. While the service certainly has penitential aspects, because of the restoration that ultimately takes place during the 45 minutes or so of the forgiveness-fest, our nave was filled with the sounds of joyful tears. Lent is often described by the Orthodox as a "bright sadness" and Forgiveness Vespers is one such example.

During the first week of Great Lent, the canon of St. Andrew of Crete, which dates to the 7th century, is read in its entirety over 3 separate services (it is also read in its entirety on the Wednesday of the 5th week of Lent). The service is notable for its many troparia (hymns of one stanza each) followed by the refrain, "Have mercy on me O God, have mercy on me" which in turn is followed by a full prostration.

It is clear from reading the Canon of St. Andrew that he took his own sin quite seriously. This is something that I have found to be true of the larger Orthodox Church. It is my understanding that this attitude of repentance for sin is not based primarily on personal guilt or fear of an angry God that seeks to be appeased or levy judgment because He cannot tolerate sin. Quite simply, sin is taken seriously because love is taken seriously. Sin obscures love. Unchecked selfishness trumps self-sacrifice. Sin is not a consequence of original guilt, it is a self-inflicted wound. The inevitable death that results from sin is a natural consequence of our willing choice. God in His mercy does not desire our groveling or self-flagellation. But he does desire that we repent of our sin and instead turn and reorient ourselves to life that he originally intended. Following is an excerpt from Canticle Two of the Lenten Triodion, translated by Metropolitan Ware and Mother Mary:

I am surrounded by the storm of sin O Compassionate Lord. But stretch out Thine hand to me, as Thou has to Peter.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I offer to Thee, O merciful Lord, the tears of the harlot. Take pity on me O Savior, in Thy compassion.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

With the lusts of passion I have darkened the beauty of my soul and turned my mind entirely into dust.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I have torn the first garment that the Creator wove for me in the beginning, and now I lie naked.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I have clothed myself in the torn coat that the serpent wove for me by his counsel, and I am ashamed.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I looked upon the beauty of the tree and my mind was deceived; and now I lie naked and ashamed.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

All the ruling passions have plowed upon my back, making long furrows of wickedness.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I have lost the beauty and glory with which I was first created; and now I lie naked and ashamed.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

Sin has stripped me of the robe that God once wove for me, and it has sowed for me garments of sin.

Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

I am clothed with the raiment of shame as with fig leaves, in condemnation of my self-willed passions.
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me.

Saturday Night's Alright for Blogging

2008-03-22T23:43:00.000-07:00

Especially when it concerns my beloved Seattle Mariners. The new season opens on the 31st and I will be in attendance at Safeco Field for the opening pitch from Erik Bedard. This past off season was marked by controversy, as the M's traded their mostly highly touted "prospect" and 4 other players for Bedard. The trade threw the highly developed and critical Mariners blogosphere into a cataclysmic tizzy, with the anti-trade camp raving that the M's, being a team that isn't that good and needs to rebuild, gave up far too much for a pitcher with a sketchy health record and only two years guaranteed left on his contract. The pro-trade camp countered that Bedard is the top of the rotation starter that M's have been missing and his presence will close the gap between Seattle and the winners of the division title in 2007, the Los Angeles Angels. Since I am a nerd, I spent far too much time this winter lurking in various blogs following the debate in all of its nauseating detail, of which I will spare you any further punishment. Here's to the new season.

Forgive my cynicism . . .

2008-03-17T22:57:00.000-07:00

. . . but this magazine cover has to be one of the most ridiculous things I have seen in quite some time. Undoubtedly, part of the problem is that I openly detest politics. And I'm sure Obama is a great guy and could offer our country a change. Nevertheless, I find this self-righteousness (at least one could interpret this cover shot as such) and naive optimism disgusting/amusing.

My best Bozo days lie ahead.

2008-02-29T17:43:00.001-08:00

You know you are going bald when you feel the need to give yourself a haircut every two weeks to hide your ever-thinning hair.

I first became concerned about my hair loss about six years ago when I noticed a small little bald patch just behind my hairline. At this point I was very much in the stage of denial. I rationalized that I had cut my hair a little shorter than normal. Or perhaps the guard of the razor had come loose as I cut that portion of my hair. How else could there be such a little patch with a little less hair on it? What an odd place for such a patch!

My next phase was anger. After my intial reaction of denial, I noticed small pieces of hair in my hands after I washed them. When I woke up I saw tiny little hair folicles left behind on my pillow. At this stage of my life I was trying to hold on to any dignity that I could get. I burned with anger that my hairline was literally slipping through my fingers.

Today I am ready to concede that I am losing my hair. I have processed the residual denial and anger from my own personal hairline journey and I have accepted that I am a 30 year old balding man. I refuse to live in a fantasy world that denies this simple fact. I have seen pictures that dispel any notion I would have of an alternate reality. Avoidance of this reality would be nothing short of a foundational conflict in my being.

I am resolute in my acceptence. I am finally ready to grow up.

I have nothing to fear knowing that my best Bozo days lie ahead.

"Beauty Will Save the World"

2008-02-23T11:16:00.000-08:00

It is through the virtue of humility that we attain spiritual gifts. Humility is the acknowledgment that God has saved us, forgiven us and desires that we should do the same. God does not force us to do so, we must be willing. If we are not willing to be humble, the world will humiliate us. The humble person cannot be humiliated, for humiliation is nothing but a blow to our pride. The one who has no pride escapes such suffering. Your Father in Christ, + Bishop JOSEPH

I read the quote above earlier today and it reminded me of the discussion that a few of my friends and I have been having on the blog under this post 'growing innocence' in regards to humility.

Let me be clear that I am not writing from the perspective of an expert in regards to humility. In fact, it seems to tear against some of the very foundational elements of my being. Still, even in my limited life experience, there is also a deep part of me which is drawn to be a learner of this virtue.

This subject has been on my mind quite a bit lately, in part because I recently (finally) finished The Idiot (once I got back on the 26 -- sorry, inside joke). Long story short: the novel centers upon the events surrounding the main character, Prince Myshkin, and his collision with Russian upper-class society.

The novel was a difficult read. I literally had to force myself through several passages. Dostoevsky himself considered the novel something of an artistic failure. Nevertheless, his concept behind the story was high,

"For a long time now I've been tormented by a certain idea, but I've been afraid
to make a novel out of it, because the thought is too difficult and I'm not
ready for it, though it's a thoroughly tempting thought and I love it. The idea
is - to portray a perfectly beautiful man. Nothing, in my opinion, can be more
difficult than that, especially in our time" (Dostoevsky, quoted in the
introduction to The Idiot, translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa
Volokhonsky).

Prince Myshkin himself asserts in the novel that "beauty will save the world." The Prince is not making an egotistical statement. Rather, he has a radical humility that seems to border on naivety: the Prince seems incapable of seeing obvious flaws in others (indeed, he sees God in each person) and repeatedly apologizes for his own behavior, even when it is clear he is not to be blamed or faulted. From the perspective of the reader this attitude seems at best simplistic, and at worst, just plain stupid in a society that conspires against him.

I have wondered, is humility supposed to "make sense" to us? In what way should it "make sense?" Humility, isolated in a temporal and external perspective, might look like foolishness to some, as it did to Prince Myshkin's contemporaries in mid 19th-century Russia.

In discussing the subject of humility with different friends, they have made welcome clarifications between humility and false humility in certain circumstances. Still, I wonder how the unseen reality of eternity might factor into this discussion? If nothing else, it gives us pause to consider that our temporal existence may not be an end in and of itself. Ultimately, I believe humility breaks through the plane of our temporal existence (not worthless or without value, but finite and limited nonetheless) with an infusion of eternity. This is an abstract concept that is difficult to objectify.

Perhaps an answer of sorts can be found in another of Dostoevsky's novels, The Brothers Karamavov, and artist Fritz Eichenberg, whose engravings I have admired for their visceral embodiment of melancholic emotion. One of the engravings that I am most drawn to is Eichenberg's depiction of the famous scene in The Brothers Karamazov, "The Grand Inquisitor." In the scene, Christ reappears on earth during the time of the Spanish Inquisition. He is arrested, sentenced to death and brought before the Grand Inquisitor for questioning. The Grand Inquisitor's argument against Christ is long, detailed and quite convincing.

Both the argument postulated by the Inquisitor and the specific outcome of this story is quite profound but it does not concern the subject of this posting (you can read it yourself if you haven't already). Suffice it to say that perhaps the Inquisitor succeeds in building an effective argument against Christ. However, at what cost? At the end of the story he is left alone with his bitterness and despair, willingly shut-off from the comfort of Christ's presence.

Perhaps this is a gross oversimplification, but I wonder if there is parallel that can be drawn between my own lack of humility, no matter how justified it may seem, and that of Dostoevsky's Inquisitor? I wonder if in the trusting humility of Prince Myshkin, he looks to eternity and finds the abiding presence of Christ, sharing with him in his sufferings?

The life led by Prince Myshkin may be better understood in light of the Grand Inquisitor. Perhaps we live our lives traveling somewhere between these two polar opposites found in literature, never fully acheiving the beautified perfection that Dostoevsky sought to depict in Prince Myshkin or becoming fully enveloped in the isolated bitterness of the Grand Inquisitor.

Of course, humility is not a guarantee that I will avoid suffering. Neither is it a guarantee that I will always feel God's presence. At times He may feel absent or even silent. Still, I feel the longing and desire to pray that the wisdom of eternity may be found in my heart.

Top 07 of 07

2008-01-15T21:53:00.000-08:00

For a few years now I have made a practice of listing my favorite records of the past year. The list is ridiculously limited as it represents the majority of the new music that I have bought in the past year as well as being disturbingly indulgent of my wannabe rock critic/musician altar ego. What the world needs now is not another play list. If that introduction does not dissuade you from reading further (it has almost caused me to stop writing), I'm not sure what will. So, without further ado I present the Top 07 of 07 in no particular order.

Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
This album presents some really accessible and catchy rock n' roll without sacrificing the more abstract/experimental tunes the band is becoming increasingly known for. I'm not sure how "The Underdog" did in radio airplay, but it should have been a hit. And it was on the play list of the reception of my wedding, which surely counts for something.

Panda Bear, Person Pitch
I recently heard a quote in which a famous actor said of different directors, "the good ones borrow but the great ones steal." If that statement is true than Panda Bear is a genius. It would probably take a genius to make an homage to or emulate Brian Wilson all by oneself and Noah Lennox of Animal Collective pulls it off on Person Pitch. "Comfy in Nautica" and "Bros" are the standout tracks. Come to think of it, album closer "Ponytail" was also on the reception play list.

The White Stripes, Icky Thump

In what has been described as a return to the basics, Jack and Meg turn the collective amp back up to 11. "Rag and Bone" is a great tune and "A Martyr for my Love for You" is the song Soren Kierkegaard never got to sing. No, "St. Andrew (The Battle is in the Air)" was not on the reception play list.

James Blackshaw, The Cloud of Unknowing
An album of instrumental acoustic guitar music named after a classic book on Christian mysticism in the 14 century by an anonymous English monk. The contemplative music builds through slow repetition until the slightest change in chord structure carries maximum impact. I guess it's similar to techno in that way only with an acoustic 12-string guitar.

Arcade Fire, Neon Bible
I must admit, the more I listen to this album the more I dislike it. Maybe it's because of the cynical and idiotic things that Win Butler keeps saying. Maybe it's because of the underlying paranoia in the music. Whatever the reason, what I do enjoy about Neon Bible is that it is the sound of a band that is not afraid of or opposed to making a statement through big tunes, and even amongst the cynicism and paranoia, I can respect that.

The National, Boxer
The National write introspective mellow tunes that are deceptively anthemic. Because of Matt Beringer's deep baritone, Leonard Cohen comparisons are apt, but the musical influence here is much more 80s New Wave than kitsch Euro-pop. Matt Beringer also sings like a man who has his mouth full and is wary of opening his mouth too far for the fear of spraying food everywhere.

Radiohead, In Rainbows
Two things stand out to me about this album, a) Radiohead sounds like a band again, and b) Thom Yorke has a beautiful and otherworldly voice. "Reckoner" is one of the best songs this band has ever written. Simple guitar and piano hooks, a tight rhythm section and a falsetto sung in a way that only Yorke can sing it. As I said in another blog advising potential crooner's: don't attempt to sing/sound like this band, because you can't.

My apologies for the wacky formatting.

growing innocence

2008-01-03T22:41:00.001-08:00

We all experience difficulty in life. While much of it is self-inflicted pain caused by our own selfishness, we also all experience pain that is caused by circumstances that are beyond are control.

When I named this blog "growing innocence" a year a go, I wanted to try to encapsulate in that title an attribute that I found in people that I admire. These are people who, when faced with difficult circumstances, have not responded with an increase in vengeance or anger, but an increase in humility and love. They have undoubtedly made their share of mistakes and taken their own lumps in life, but have emerged from their own difficult road with a purity of heart when anger or resentment could have seemed a valid response. As a result, they seem more full of love and life then ever before. They seem to"grow innocence" rather than "grow bitterness."

When I respond in anger to a perceived wrong against me, this anger often seems right and even justified in the moment. Hey, if I don't defend myself here, who else will, right? However, this attitude, acted upon and carried out over and over through our lives filled with their share of pain, often leads not to increased personal validation, but increased isolation, bitterness and resentment. In defending myself or fighting for my own perceived rights I am aware only of my pain in the midst of my hardship and as a result, I lose hope. I damage my true personhood.

What then, is my true personhood? I believe that responding to hardship by an increase in humility and love contains part of the answer. In the moment of pain these attributes seem anything but natural or logical to me. But what of the purity of heart that results from these attributes, acted out over and over in a life overwhelmed at times by pain? It is a true purity. Natural. Logical. And from watching those I admire it is clear to me that in love and humility we embrace our true personhood enveloped in the Person of Christ.

Two different couples have set a wonderful example to me of "growing innocence." My godparents at St. Paul Orthodox Church, Bob and Mary Armstrong and my Aunt and Uncle, Donna and Lloyd Slusser from Pullman, Washington. In their lives I have witnessed a deep reality of love and self-sacrifice and I am thankful and blessed to have them as a part of my life.

A Blessed Nativity

2007-12-21T22:06:00.001-08:00

"Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel, which is translated, 'God with us.'"
-- Matthew 1:23

"Prepare O Bethlehem, for Eden has been opened for all!"
-- Orthodox Hymns in preparation for the Nativity

I hate the smell of urine in the evening

2007-12-18T14:59:00.000-08:00

While it was certainly not the worst feeling I have had in my life, crawling into bed, turning out the lights and pulling up the covers only to have my nostrils overwhelmed by the stench of dog urine has to be pretty close to the top. To make matters worse, the culprit was a dog that we had been house-sitting for. To make matters that much worse, she chose the brand-new hand-made quilt given to us by our parish as her personal litter box. To make matters much, much worse, the urine stains did not come out after a dry cleaning. Olivia and I are now faced with having to notify the makers of the quilt that their gift is in need of a severe repair job.

Let this post service as notice that we will no longer be house-sitting for dogs that are not crate trained.

Vinyl or bust

2007-11-19T14:01:00.000-08:00

In recent months I have become increasingly infatuated with the world of vinyl music. It's sort of a cross-breed between music appreciation and baseball card collecting. When considering the purchase of a used record the quality and condition is most important (to me), but the real fanatics/obsessives also consider the pressing of the record (i.e. the first pressing is the oldest, usually the rarest and thus most valuable). This article does a great job of articulating the perspective of the vinyl music fan and its re-emergence as a medium in the market.

Listening to vinyl has been a revelation to my ears: the warmth and subtlety of sound makes each record an experience to enjoy. Now as I listen to my Cd's -- while they certainly sound crystal clear -- in comparison to my records they sound synthetic and cold. A debate rages among audiophiles as to which medium, the CD or vinyl, is superior. Read these guys weigh-in on the debate. While I consider myself an audiophile, half the time I'm really not sure what they're talking about.

A wonderful moment

2007-11-04T23:39:00.000-08:00

Now that the man-bag controversy has finally blown over, I can rightfully acknowledge the amazing and profound recent landmark in my life: on September 23rd I was married to the inspiring and beautiful Olivia Bagley. We were married at St. Paul Antiochian Orthodox Church in Brier, Washington with our own parish priest the V. Rev. A. James Bernstein serving. I currently have a number of pictures of the ceremony if you click on the sidebar to the right but I'm still waiting for pictures of the reception and more of the professional shots to trickle in.

In the Orthodox Church, marriage is a sacrament. The centerpiece is the crowning ceremony which symbolizes the divine unity between a man and a woman in Christ. As you might see in the pictures, Olivia and I are crowned in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit with floral crowns which are signs of both royalty and martyrdom. As humans who have fallen into death and sin, we are restored as kings and queens of creation in Christ. However, this restoration can only take place through the Cross. We are crucified with Christ in this world, which leads to the death of my self-centered pride and its roots that go so deep into my heart that it is hard to see sometimes where my pride ends and my heart begins.

Music plays an indispensable role in each Orthodox liturgy, and the marriage ceremony is no different. The choral music in the marriage liturgy is particularly noteworthy however and several of my musician relatives/friends commented on how stunning the music was, with one noting that the Our Father (the Lord's Prayer) nearly moved him to tears.

It was the hope of Olivia and I that the reception would be a big celebration/party with as many of our relatives and friends as possible and the event itself exceeded my expectations. Great food and drink, lots of laughter, good music, and humbling toasts left me glowing for several days afterward. As I recall that day now I can't help but think we all tasted a little slice of heaven and if I do say so myself, I doubt that's a coincidence.

The bus ride

2007-10-19T18:24:00.000-07:00

The other day after work I was waiting for my bus, the 26. It was late which isn't that unsual and when it did arrive I hopped on. As usual, we wove around downtown Seattle before heading to Fremont. About halfway to Fremont I began to read a book that I bring with me to pass the time. The Fremont stop is usually the largest and this day was no different -- about half of the passengers exited the bus in the self-proclaimned center of the universe. My own stop in Wallingford is about 10 minutes after Fremont, so I went back to reading my book. After a few minutes I glanced up to see if we were getting close to my stop and much to my surprise I did not recognize my surroundings. I'm new to this particular bus route and so I'm not too alarmed at this point. It's perfectly feasible that I'm not very familiar with the surroundings on my new route, especially at night, right? Wrong. I definetly was in an area of Seattle that I did not recognize. I was now faced with the unpleasant task of walking to the front of the bus to confess my ineptitude to the bus driver. In the silent bus I made my way forward after everyone who was stopping had cleared out. Amidst the silence on the bus was the tangible anticpation of the expetant passengers waiting for the driver to resume their journey. I cut through the silence with my bold and ignorant question, "This isn't the 26, is it?" The driver had a somewhat perplexed and amused expression on his face when he told me that no, I was on the 28. He told me to exit here and then wait for the 28 headed back to Fremont on the other side of the street. Like a big boy, I looked both ways before crossing but I was a little scared since I didn't have anyone's hand to hold. How could this happen? Most distressing was that I didn't even recognize where I was. Deep down though I think I know the reason that I was in such an unfortunate position. I was distracted reading my book, The Idiot.

I guess it's not all dead rabbits.

2007-10-15T20:38:00.000-07:00

I'm glad that beauty does exist in Radiohead's personal world after all. I'm not an apologist for the band; I haven't liked their last three records. However, there is something unique about one of the biggest and most critically respected bands in the world announcing that in ten days they will be offering their latest record as a download for a consumer determined price. And it is beautiful (the music that is). Some advice to any prospective crooner's out there: don't try to sound like Thom York because, you can't.

Apparently Phil Collins likes chocolate

2007-09-08T00:07:00.001-07:00

Sincere Repentance

2007-08-22T21:31:00.000-07:00

Long before the phrase "hooker with a heart of gold" had entered into the American lexicon, Dostoevsky wrote Crime and Punishment with Sofya Semyonovna Marmeladov as your proto-hooker. However, her story might be a little less sanitary than your average Hollywood tart; she chooses to become a prostitute by profession since her father is a drunk who can't hold a job down, her mother is suffering from consumption and as a result her younger siblings are going hungry. Certainly no R-rated T and A here but nonetheless her plight is a bit of a downer.

Crime and Punishment is the latest Dostoevsky novel that I'm re-reading and as with The Brothers Karamazov before it, I'm getting a lot more out of the book the second time around. The novel features the story of Raskolnikov (which comes from the Russian word raskoknik and translates to schismatic), a young man who, as a matter of practicality, takes justice into his own hands and commits murder against a woman who by his judgment is deserving of such a fate.

What unfolds is the story of Raskolnikov's tribulation, regeneration and eventual repentance. I won't even attempt to give a recap to the books many events, which includes a crazed dream in which an angry mob beats an old horse to death with a crowbar, as well as a particularly moving scene (portrayed in the picture above) in which the Gospel story of Jesus' raising of Lazarus is read to Raskolnikov by Sofya. Suffice it to say that the themes of human depravity and hope in the midst of suffering are fully explored in the novel (one of Dostoevsky's many achievements is his ability to relate such widely ranging events without seeming to make compromises designed to serve a particular idealogy - each event unwinds naturally in an authentic and unforced manner).

Raskolnikov is a character that I can relate to. I believe that part of the human condition is our struggle to make sense of events that unfold in our lives or the lives of others that offend our own concept of justice. And it is a fine line between authentically expressing our suffering and becoming angry and bitter as a result of it. Raskolnikov responds to the absence of his own concept of justice (and God) by protesting against it in the act of murder. Intrinsically tied up in this protest is Raskolnikov's infatuation with his own ego: he fancies himself to be an elite member of society who transcends human law and is thereby allowed to commit heinous acts such as murder as long as they are in service of the greater good of society. Sound crazy? Yeah, it does to me as well. It also hits a little too close to home.

It is in this context that Raskolnikov's megalomania is drawn in sharp contrast to the humility of Sophia. If anyone should be upset and protesting against their lot in life, Sophia would have some fodder for that proverbial cannon. But she bears no grudges and harbors no resentment. It is ultimately because of her unyielding love that Raskolnikov turns from his sin against God and humanity and begins a life of repentance.

I have often thought of repentance primarily in terms of negation; repentance is a word that conjures up all kinds of images and for me they are mostly negative. I've blogged about the subject of repentance before but it is something that I am returning to again and again - the concept of repentance not primarily in negative language as I had perceived it before, but positive. I can't say it better than Bishop Kallistos Ware:

"Correctly understood, repentance is not negative but positive. It means not self-pity or remorse but conversion, the re-centering of our whole life upon the Trinity. It is not looking backward with regret, but forward with hope - not downwards at our shortcomings but upwards at God's love. It is to see, not what we have failed to be, but by what by divine grace we can become; and it is to act upon what we see. To repent is to open our eyes to the light. In this sense, it is not a single act, an initial step, but a continuing state, an attitude of the heart and will that needs to be ceaselessly renewed up to the end of life (Ware, The Orthodox Way).

In the novel Raskolnikov is not demonized - he is a character who in reality is quite sensitive and very concerned with the injustices committed against his neighbors in the world around him. However, he sins against God in turning to inner despair (negation in the form of murder) as a result of these perceived injustices. I think that this inner despair can often take more subtle forms than murder, perhaps even outwardly looking like Godliness but in reality may simply be a mask for our rampant pride and ego. In the end, what Raskolnikov felt would be an act of practicality to improve the world accomplished no such thing and was destructive to his own soul and person. It is only through a positive act (i.e. repentance - which authentically deals with the negative, our sin) that Raskolnikov begins the process of redemption to his soul and person.

Peppermint Dreams

2007-07-20T11:14:00.000-07:00

Up until a few years ago, the White Stripes really bugged me. I had never really listened to the band before but Jack White was certainly annoying. He seemed to be an arty-farty freak who was self-conscious and full of himself and I thought the cameo he had in Cold Mountain was ridiculous.

At any rate, when the band released Get Behind Me Satan I decided to buy it since it was on sale at Best Buy. I ended up really liking the record. I subsequently bought their entire back catalog, blew out some speakers at the WorldMarket in Woodbury, MN listening to "The Nurse" before we opened, and even had a dream about the band. Previously, this was an U2-only level of band obsessiveness. I don't remember much of the dream, but an event that sticks out in my mind is when I tried to kiss Meg. I slowly leaned in and right before I gave Meg a smooch, her upper-lip grew hair on it and I realized I was about to kiss Jack instead. This part of the dream could also be classified as a nightmare. I may be running the risk of being too intimately personal on the 'ol blog, but if nothing else it gives you a glimpse into the fragile state of my psyche at the time (it had been a rough couple've years).

A few weeks ago the band released a new album Icky Thump. I won't give a full review of the record, but a few highlights include the title track, "Rag and Bone," and the weird and wild "St. Andrew (This Battle is in the Air)." This track continues the vague spirituality that has always been present in the White Stripes repertoire, from their covers of old blues spirituals to thanking several Saints in the liner notes of Get Behind Me and the Apostles in the notes of Icky Thump.

I have found the live performances of the White Stripes to be a pretty incredible burst of energy and chemistry between the manic over-the-top energy of Jack and Meg's innocent and primal work on the skins. Yee-haw.

The Cross, The Crescent and St. Mark's Cathederal

2007-06-25T10:28:00.000-07:00

Recently here in Seattle an event that has caused quite a stir is the news that Episcopal Priestess Ann Holmes Redding is both a practicing Muslim and a Christian. Hmmmm.

The linked article provides some commentary from scholars who agree and disagree with her position. There is part of me that finds this sort of inter-faith (interpersonal interfaith?) stance appealing. Perhaps it could be seen as an attempt to "solve" or "reconcile" some of the horrifying violence and atrocities comitted by Christians and Muslims against one another the past 1400 years. Mutual forgiveness and dialogue is certainly needed and important.

But if Redding's aim to be a Christian and Muslim is a (sub)conscious attempt at reconciliation (I'm not sure that it is) does it truly acheive that? What does it acheive? What does it say about Christianity?

Sportin' the 'stache

2007-06-16T11:59:00.000-07:00

I have recently been inspired to go to a new world; a place where previously only rock stars, porn stars and middle aged men still living in the 1980s have dared to trod: I have grown a mustache. Undeterred by the threats of my fiance that she would find my physical appearance "absolutely disgusting," I have taken the plunge into the dangerous and uncharted waters of the 'stache. To those of you who may have not yet taken the leap into this realm: jump on in, the water is warm.

I found that a certain freedom accompanies the sporting of the 'stache. It may well appear as foolishness to some or even desperation to others, but with the 'stache I feel a sense of renewed personal identity. Do I look ridiculous? Maybe, even probably. Actually, who am I kidding - of course I do - but that just comes with the territory. It's part of the whole 'renewed personal identity' - it doesn't matter what I look like, right? I'm hip because I've transcended style, 'I don't care anymore' (of course, this sense of freedom could also quite easily be my dishonest attempt to mask my true feelings of insecurity and ridiculousness as I walk around in public with a mustache).

It is no conincidence that at the appearance of my mustache, Olivia happens to be gone for the weekend visiting friends. And it remains to be seen whether I will keep my mustache for her return or even for Church tomorrow morning for that matter. At any rate, my upper lip will rest well this evening in the warmth of the 'stache. While I am embarassed that I am blogging about such a subject on a Saturday night (or any subject for that matter), it was for a good purpose. I think.

Wilco

2007-05-30T11:40:00.000-07:00

I haven't had much time for blogging recently, so I'm going to put up some video of one of my fave bands playing a tune from their new record Sky Blue Sky which . . . I don't like very much as a whole. If nothing else, I'm not a big fan of the latest incarnation of Tweedy's style. I've already blogged about his 'grotesque beard' phase, so I'm not even going to touch this one.

Speaking of new records, the latest hipster trend that I've been following has been to begin playing vinyl. I've collected records for awhile, but more for nostalgia than for the audio benefit that it can offer. Inspired by a good friend who sent me two early U2 45s from the UK, I got a new belt put on my Dad's old record player and away I went. Sky Blue Sky is the first new record that I bought on vinyl. So, there you have it.

Chrismation '07

2007-05-09T22:03:00.000-07:00

At the end of March I was received into the Eastern Orthodox Church along with my fiance Olivia and our friends Jeremy and Kara. It was a moving and profound experience -- one that cannot be adequately described in words. Below are a few pictures of the ceremony, although in the absence of words these pictures are not of the hightest quality either.

My own reading mixtape

2007-04-27T12:19:00.000-07:00

The past few years my reading habits have swung on a drastic pendulum between borderline obsessiveness and willing ignorance. While in Seminary I read like a mofo and I liked it. I read for work and in my spare time I read for fun. There was a lot of reading going on! Then . . . I decided I didn't want to read anymore, I wanted to "live." I felt that I had been primarily living cereberally instead of existentially and there was some truth to my critique. So, I stopped for awhile. Eventually I began reading again, but nothing overtly theological as before - instead a gigantic biography of Bob Dylan, the autobiography of Johnny Cash, and The Wilco Book. This past fall I had the desire to read more theological material again for the first time. Perhaps it was no coincidence that many of the books I was now reading on Eastern Orthodox spirituality placed an emphasis on the human person and "incarnational living" (which I admittedly do a poor job of). At any rate, the last few weeks I have been re-reading Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. I've enjoyed the book a lot more the second time around partially because I'm a little older, have a better translation this time, and now am Orthodox myself, which gives me a better context for many of the characters actions in Orthodox Russia. The author places this quote in the mouth of one of his characters, Elder Zossima:

"There is only one salvation for you: take yourself up, and make yourself responsible for all the sins of men. For indeed it is so, my friend, and the moment you make yourself sincerely responsible for everything and everyone, you will see at once that it is really so, that it is you who are guilty on behalf of all and for all. Whereas by shifting your own laziness and powerlessness onto others, you will end by sharing in Satan's pride and murmuring against God. I think thus of Satan's pride: it is difficult for us on earth to comprehend it, and therefore, how easy it is to fall into error and partake of it, thinking, moreover, that we are doing something great and beautiful."

My int ital reaction to this quote is one of affirmation; I feel edified and encouraged. It doesn't take long though, before I begin to reconsider. How is this possible? It is at the very least a challenge to my own individualistic sense of accomplishment. I don't believe what Dostoevsky is trying to say here is that there isn't any difference between a regular ol' sinful Joe like myself and a mass murderer, because I think there is. I'm pretty sure there's a difference between myself and Mother Theresa as well. However, saying as much is not mutually exclusive with what I believe his main point to be here: that the first step toward God is humbling myself before Him. It is only when I can call myself along with the Apostle Paul -- "the worst of sinners," the sort of sinner who takes some responsibility in all sin, no matter how grievous -- that I receive Love and can properly love my fellow man.

Joy

2007-04-07T12:02:00.000-07:00

"And yet, from it very beginning Christianity has been the proclamation of joy, of the only possible joy on earth. It rendered impossible all joy we usually think of as possible. But within this impossibility, at the very bottom of this darkness, it announced and conveyed a new all-embracing joy, and with this joy it transformed the End into a Beginning. Without the proclamation of this joy Christianity is incomprehensible. It is only as joy that the Church was victorious in the world, and it lost the world when it lost that joy, and ceased to be a credible witness to it. Of all accusations against Christians, the most terrible one was uttered by Nietzsche when he said that Christians had no joy . . . Christianity was the revelation of the gift of joy, and thus, the gift of genuine feast. Every Saturday night at the Resurrection vigil we sing, 'for, through the Cross, joy came into the whole world.' This joy is pure joy because it does not depend on anything in this world, and is not the reward of anything in us. It is totally and absolutely a gift, the 'charis,' the grace. And being pure gift, this joy has a transforming power, the only really transforming power in this world. It is the 'seal' of the Holy Spirit on the life of the Church -- on its faith, hope and love."

-- Fr. Alexander Schemann, For the Life of the World

It's not too good to be true; it's so good it has to be true.

The Body of the Dead Christ In the Tomb

2007-04-06T12:23:00.000-07:00

I hope that my intentions are pure in posting a picture of this painting -- that this is not an immature attempt to shock or sensationalize, but to fully point toward the life-giving cross by also acknowledging its tragedy. That in this event death was truly overcome by death.

The following excerpt gives some background on Hans Holbein the Younger's painting and the full article is linked here:

"Portraits apart, this is perhaps Holbein's most striking image. Since Dostoevsky's observations in the nineteenth century, which dwelt on the forbidding aspects of physical decay and bodily corruption, the painting has been seen as the product of a mind steeped in the apocalyptic horrors that were unleashed by the first phase of the Reformation. But what is known of Holbein's phlegmatic interpretation of the human condition belies this interpretation. Modern authorities suggest that Holbein intended to stress the sheer miracle of Resurrection and its imminence, since the minutely-observed level of decay in the gangrenous wounds suggests that we see Christ's body three days after death."

And a quote from Fr. Alexander Schmemann in For the Life of the World:

"Yes, as we have already said, Christianity was on the one hand, the end of all natural joy. It revealed its impossibility, its futility, its sadness -- because by revealing the perfect man it revealed the abyss of man's alienation from God and the inexhaustible sadness of this alienation. The cross of Christ signified an end of all 'natural' rejoicing; it made it, indeed, impossible. From this point of view the sad 'seriousness' of modern man is certainly of Christian origin, even if this has been forgotten by that man himself. Since the Gospel was preached in this world, all attempts to go back to a pure 'pagan joy,' all 'renaissances,' all 'healthy optimisms' were bound to fail. 'There is but one sadness,' said Leon Bloy, 'that of not being a saint.' And it is this sadness that permeates mysteriously the whole life of the world, it's frantic and pathetic hunger and thirst for perfection, which kills all joy. Christianity made it impossible simply to rejoice in the natural cycles -- in harvests and new moons. Because it relegated the perfection of joy to the inaccessible future -- as the goal and end of all work -- it made all human life an 'effort,' a 'work.'"

The E Street Fire

2007-04-04T10:19:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, The Arcade Fire released their highly anticipated second full-length album Neon Bible. Since I make a habit of keeping up with what music critics think is cool, I had purchased their debut album Funeral, which was widely hailed as the best rock record of 2004. Written in the midst of the deaths of several family members (three of the seven band members are related; front-man Win Butler and his wife Regine Chassagne, along with Win's brother Will), Funeral is notable for its unique instrumentation and is a highly emotive and personal recording that allowed for the catharsis of the band's personal grief and anguish during this period.

Neon Bible is a natural maturation from Funeral. Where Funeral seems oblique or obtuse both musically and lyrically, Neon Bible has a much wider appeal without compromising the unique sound of its predecessor. It is primarily directed not toward the personal themes of Funeral, but addresses the proverbial "big subjects" in life -- God, faith, the Iraq war (of course), Western materialism -- and is served up with a foreboding if not slightly cynical/melancholy undertone. My ears hear the musical influence of Boy-era U2 and Bowie. However, the biggest influence is perhaps the most unlikely considering the vast differences between their respective fan bases: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, who have their collective fingerprints all over Neon Bible.

Really though, the comparison between The Boss/E Street Band and the Arcade Fire isn't that much of a stretch; they really have their share of similarities. Both bands have close to double digits in group members, can come across as melodramatic and condescendingly self-important, have ridiculously high energy performances, and to use a cliche, attempt to break down the barrier between performer and audience. In fact, the Arcade Fire often begin their encores acoustically from the back of the venue. In recalling the Arcade Fire show I attended in the fall of 2005 at First Avenue in Minneapolis (where Prince shot Purple Rain), the band, to use a David Letterman term, blew the roof off the dump. After a shaky start, the final medley of "Wake Up"/Rebellion (Lies) was astounding. During one portion of the show, one of the band jumped up onto the balcony of the small theatre armed with a drumstick in hand, wailing away violently at anyone in the audience member who attempted to get close.

Now if you see Little Steven pull similar punches at the next E Street show -- it was no accident.

It doesn't matter if you're solid or hollow. It's still painful.

2007-03-26T14:23:00.000-07:00

Courtesy of my good friend Andy (aka Chartreuse Menagerie).