December 2009 Archives

Happy New Year!

BD over at Maggie's finds Dietrich Bonhoeffer being tormented at the boundary of human nature and holiness:

Lord Jesus, come Yourself, and dwell with us, be human as we are, and overcome what overwhelms us. Come into the midst of my evil, come close to my unfaithfulness. Take my sin, which I hate and which I cannot leave. Be my brother, Thou Holy God. Be my brother in the kingdom of evil and suffering and death. Come with me in my death, come with me in my suffering, come with me as I struggle with evil. And make me holy and pure, despite my sin and death, in Jesus' name.

Though words fail, tears are an honest prayer.

Jasper the Weimaraner is going to be my house guest for a few days. It'll be nice to have a dog around the place again even if it is only temporary. Jaz is a gentle soul who gets a little spooky around loud noises, but he responds very well to cartoon voices and praise, so we're going to have a cheerful week! I'm psyched to have a roommate!

The Patriots' clinch the AFC East 35-7 over the Jax Jaguars. Boo-Ya!

C— looked at Jack Del Rio late in the game and made the observation that he might cry! I think she wasn't too far from the truth with that one.

Go Pats!

Listening to NPR tonight while driving in a rather large circle around the seacoast area I discovered Selected Shorts, which is dramatic readings of short stories. Gold! Gold, I tell you! Tonight I listened to these three shorts:

• "The Occasional Garden" by Saki, performed by Daniel Gerroll Collected in: The Garden of Reading: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Short Fiction about Gardens and Gardeners, edited by Michele Slung (Overlook Ducksworth)
• "The Balloon" by Donald Barthelme, performed by Maria Tucci Published in: The New Yorker (April 16, 1966 ) From: Sixty Stories (Penguin)
• "The Little Green Monster" by Haruki Murakami, performed by Dana Ivey From: The Elephant Vanished (Vintage)

Merry Christmas!

I made a second batch of Peanut Butter Blossom cookies—the second 'from scratch' batch I've made in my lifetime—in anticipation of cookie hungry crowds. Many came tonight and they ate. Success! My cookies pleased more than chocolate or cheese and barely a handful were left!

I don't get too political on Jephnol, but some things are just too weird to pass up. Jane Hamsher of the über-liberal Firedoglake website showed up on über-conservative Fox News with Steve Doocy to call on people to help "kill" Harry Reid's über-partisan health-care bill. Hamsher explained:

"I went on Ed Shultz last night, and Fox deliberately today after yesterday's hubub. It scares the bejesus out of the DC establishment of both parties to think that the left and right might align against the corporate interests that dominate the massive giveaways that keep happening no matter who's in power.

"Good. They should be scared."

Hat-tip: Le·gal In·sur·rec·tion

Wikipedia doesn't seem to think the story is authentic, but others agree with Laighton's version of events. A more reliable source for the assertion of an untimely pardon would be preferred, but this is what I have at the moment. It's an interesting and tragic history nevertheless.

Poem by Albert Laighton
(Shamelessly kiped from Mike in New Hampshire).

In the worn and dusty annals
Of our old and quiet town,
With its streets of leafy beauty,
And its houses quaint and brown,--

With its dear associations,
Hallowed by the touch of Time,--
You may read this thrilling legend,
This sad tale of wrong and crime.

In the drear month of December,
Ninety years ago today,
Hundreds of the village people
Saw the hanging of Ruth Blay;--

Saw her, clothed in silk and satin,
Borne beneath the gallows-tree,
Dressed as in her wedding garments,
Soon the bride of Death to be;--

Saw her tears of shame and anguish,
Heard her shrieks of wild despair
Echo through the neighboring woodlands,
Thrill the clear and frosty air;--

Till their hearts were moved to pity
At her fear and agony:
"Doomed to die," they said, "unjustly,
Weak, but innocent is she."

When at last, in tones of warning,
From its high and airy tower,
Slowly, with its tongue of iron,
Tolled the bell the fatal hour.

Like the sound of distant billows,
When the storm is wild and loud,
Breaking on the rocky headlands,
Ran a murmur through the crowd.

And a voice among them shouted,
"Pause before the deed is done;
We have asked reprieve and pardon
For the poor, misguided one."

But these words of Sheriff Packer
Rang above the swelling noise:
"Must I wait and lose my dinner?
Draw away the cart, my boys!"

Fold thy hands in prayer, O woman!
Take thy last look of the sea;
Take thy last look of the landscape;
God be merciful to thee!

Stifled groans, a gasp, a shudder,
And the guilty deed was done;
On a scene of cruel murder
Coldly looked the Winter sun.

Then the people, pale with horror,
Looked with sudden awe behind,
As a field of grain in Autumn
Turns before a passing wind;

For distinctly in the distance,
In the long and frozen street,
They could hear the ringing echoes
Of a horse's sounding feet.

Nearer came the sound and louder,
Till a steed with panting breath,
From its sides the white foam dripping,
Halted at the scene of death;

And a messenger alighted,
Crying to the crowd, "Make way!
This I bear to Sheriff Packer;
'Tis a pardon for Ruth Blay!"

But they answered not nor heeded,
For the last fond hope had fled;
In their deep and speechless sorrow,
Pointing only to the dead.

And that night, with burning bosoms,
Muttering curses fierce and loud,
At the house of Sheriff Packer
Gathered the indignant crowd,--

Shouting, as upon a gallows
A grim effigy they bore,
"Be the name of Thomas Packer
A reproach forevermore!"

Augustus Saint-Gaudens: Master of American Sculpture aired on WGBH at 10 PM last night. I had the opportunity to visit Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, which I photo-blogged here at Jephnol in August of last year.

The sculpture which most interested me in both the PBS show and at the NHS was the Robert Gould Shaw Memorial, though I've felt it more fitting to view it as the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry Memorial. In my photographs I tried to depict the memorial as one to men rather than to a man, something I feel Saint-Gaudens did intuitively in this work.

The PBS documentary gives a good overview of Saint-Gaudens' life and work. The guy was an American genius and it's worth your time to have a look whether you've been exposed to his work or not. Check him out online or on PBS, or better yet, take a trip to the Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site in Cornish, New Hampshire!

Randy Moss was there for the team, helping the Patriots (9-5) beat the Bills (5-9) 17-10. Okay, it wasn't pretty, but it put one in the win column and that's what we like. Go Pats!

It was too snowy this morning to get the car out without clearing the driveway. Rather than racing around and cranking up the snow blower to get to church I went to C—'s and baked Peanut Butter Blossom cookies. Then I wrapped up the good times watching the Pats beat the Bills. Now I'll do the driveway! What a great Sunday.

...because a horse farted.

Went to V—'s last night and had a pie from Durham House of Pizza and watched the boob-tube for a little bit. As I was getting ready to go V— tells me he found a CD of mine from maybe 20 years ago. It was Amy Grant's Lead Me On from my Christian music period. It was like an archeological find, as if someone was excavating my past and in the process they unearthed this relic. I mean, man...I don't even remember having a CD player twenty-years ago! Pretty funny stuff.

Have you seen the Bud Light commercial where a woman pins a boutonniere to a man's chest with a nail gun? After driving several nails into his chest, through ribs and muscle, just above and potentially through the aorta, she makes the observation that his fly is low and offers to close it with the nail gun. Budweiser thinks assault with a deadly weapon and genital mutilation are cute when a woman is the perpetrator and the victim is a man. Where is the outcry? Where are the calls for equality? You don't think it's so bad? What do you think would happen if the roles were reversed?

Patriots (8-5) get by the Panthers (5-8) 20-10 without Randy Moss even showing up for the game.

If I were to pick the defining moment in the Patriots season this year it would be Bill Belichick's 4th and 2 offensive push for a conversion on the Patriots' 30 yard line against the Indianapolis Colts in game 10 of the regular season. The effort resulted in a 35-34 loss to the Colts. It was a morale busting check in the 'L' column for the team and I think it helped set the stage for the spanking the Pats received at the hands of the very serious New Orleans Saints.

Now we'll be facing the (5-7) Carolina Panthers in Foxborough at Gillette Stadium. I hope Moss, Burgess, Thomas and Guyton show up on time for the game. We could use a win today.

I went to a Christmas concert at the local mega-church this weekend. Overall, the whole deal was terrific. It sagged a bit in places where the vibe was a little too 'community arts' feeling for such an elaborate event, but it didn't disappoint either. What stood out was the performance of the church music director and his wife; they're both professional musicians and they gave it up for the audience. I've admired her voice for a while now, but the two of them harmonizing together offered an artful blend of passion and talent. Wonderful!

Adeste, fideles,
Laeti triumphantes,
Venite, venite in Bethlehem.
Natum videte,
Regem angelorum.
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus,
Dominum.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

I'm listening to the gold standard for Christmas music on my player: Bing Crosby's White Christmas.

I'll be Home for Christmas is busting me up...I'm such a pushover these days.

Sing it Bing.

Bird Dog sniffs around the question of the virgin birth and translation(s) of Isaiah 7:14 over at Maggie's Farm.

Just a thought on getting back to God...

I'm in the middle of a break-up and I'm looking hard at 'letting go and letting God'. God in this instance is my rebound, and that idea troubles me a bit as I've been most recently an ardent practitioner of disbelief. A case of cognitive dissonance ensues.

I've given up for the time being on the various apologia offered by Western intellectuals in defense of the faith. I believe it's no coincidence that God chose to anchor the Christian faith in the East. The Bible as the faithful view it is a tool intended to communicate God's Truth across history and cultures by the mechanisms of translation and interpretation. It's purposefully crafted to cry out inclusively to the diverse perspectives of individual minds dyed in a variety of divergent worldviews. Why would a defense of the Bible rely on showing a conformity to reason? It seems pushing Platonic thought into the mix is a little too chauvinistic, though certainly appropriate for a Western perspective. The Bible survives nevertheless.

My emphasis in this personal revival is given less to justification than to the experience of faith. Relying on grace I pray and meditate, coming to the presence of God with the assurance that I appear before the Most Holy in petition and praise as a creature of spiritual purity. I am free to approach God as a child rather than as a man who is Holy by virtue of the life I lived. This is most liberating, and with this perspective I often find myself filled with a sense of utter acceptance in my prayers. The accompanying euphoria is a reprieve from the doubts that have poisoned my faith in the past and threaten to be this seasons undoing.

For the love of God, I believe. Lord, help me in my disbelief.

ITunes is on shuffle and the first tune to pop-up was Everlast's cover of Folsom Prison Blues. It's a good song, but it's upsetting my muse.

It was followed by Elvis Costello's God's Comic, which is more in my inspiration ballpark.

I still regret losing a Pat Metheny trio jazz album. It was by far the best writing music I've ever heard. (No offense intended, Elvis).