Ketchup

A papa tomato, mama tomato, and a baby tomato were walking down the street. Baby tomato was a little slow and kept falling behind. Finally Papa tomato couldn't take it anymore, walked back to Baby tomato, and stomped on him squishing him completely. Papa tomato said, "Ketchup!"

It's true. I have not written here in a month. But here is my short, ketchup. I have been building a puppet set, remodeling a bathroom (completely), taking an online class (history and polity of the Church of the Nazarene), trying to keep from slumping into a deep depression, writing some poetry, maintaining a love affair with my wife, working fifty to sixty hour work weeks, and much more.

There you have it. Ketchup.

Did you ever wonder who invented/discovered ketchup? Do you know the difference between ketchup, catsup, and fancy ketchup or catsup? Ketchup was originally the word used for sauces in general. Typically a mushroom sauce or fish sauce. In the 1800s ketchup referred to any sauce using vinegar, but as the century progressed, along with the increasing obsession Americans had with tomatoes, ketchup became a tomato based sauce. In the 20th Century, modern ketchup took off in popularity. Due to an argument with the food and drug administration over the use of sodium benzoate as a preservative in condiments, Henry J. Heinz began working on a recipe that didn't include sodium benzoate. Now, ketchup is used everywhere to cover the taste of crappy fast food. As for the difference between ketchup and catsup? I don't know.

The Peace of Sabbath Things

I would like to continue a recent discussion about poetry and theology. As I have said before, poetry is a prayerful speech that will dance with words far longer than words will dance by themselves.

I want to share another poem of which this Lords Day has reminded me. I had the honor to return to a church of which I was on staff a couple of years ago. St. Paul's church of the Nazarene lavished God's grace on me today. Today the wood drake rested its beauty in the midsts of the people of St. Paul's. Thank you Father for the rest I found in sabbath.

The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Do You Need God?

I decided to post my sermon from this past Sunday. Let me know what you all think?


The Gospel reading is Mark1:29-39.
The Gospel of Our Lord.

Now, I don’t know about all of you, but there’s got to be a reason Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in-law. Perhaps Jesus knew how much Peter loved his mother-in-law, right? Or maybe the joke was on Peter. Is it any surprise Mothers-in-Law Day is less than a week before Halloween? Hey, what do you call your mother-in-law buried up to her neck in sand? Not enough sand. No, I’m just kidding. I love my mother-in-law. Anyway, we see in our gospel reading this morning something really amazing. We see Jesus at the beginning of his ministry teaching, healing, casting out demons. This is God. The God of creation revealed to us and revealing to us the Kingdom of God is in the flesh and preaching the Good News fulfilled in the resurrection. He is preaching that we, in all of our brokenness can be whole and holy.

But, now, that I’ve read our Gospel scripture this morning, I want to tell you another story. This one comes from 2 Kings chapter 4. The hero in this passage is Elisha. I’m sure all of you have heard of this prophet Elisha. He and his predecessor Elijah were bright spots in Israel’s history. There were a lot of folk who just weren’t real nice. Elijah had been taken up and left the lot of his work as a prophet to Elisha. Elisha was teased by children, and I’ll let you read that story on your own in chapter 2:23-25. Elisha gave a word to the Kings of Israel, Judah, and Edom and they had water for their men and animals during battle. Then we come to chapter four. Our hero Elisha is confronted by the widow of one of his followers. She was distraught with the fear of not only losing her husband, but loosing her two children as well. You see, the man had quite a bit of credit card debt built up and because he died before he paid it back, the debt was transferred to his wife and children. Back then, any unpaid debt that defaulted meant the payment would’ve been the children or even the wife. The widowed mother was heartbroken at a point of unbearable grief. And at that point of grief, this widow looked to Elisha.

Elisha asked her what she wanted him to do. “What do you have in your house?” He asked her. She said, “I’ve got nothing, unless of course you count this jar of oil.” Elisha said, “I want you to go out and borrow jars and Tupperware and Rubbermaid containers from everyone you know and not just a few; get a whole bunch. Then go into your house, shut the door behind you, and start pouring the oil from the jar you have into the borrowed Tupperware.” So, she did just as Elisha had told her. Her children traded out the containers as she poured and poured and poured the oil. She poured each container up to the brim until there were no more containers, then, this ever flowing jar of oil stopped flowing. She ran to tell Elisha the great news and he told her, “Now sell the oil, pay off all of your credit cards, and live on the rest.”

Once again we see our great provisional God working in the world. Here again we see the God of creation at war against this world that works so hard to subvert his love with poverty, pain, and sadness. But God is bigger than poverty. And he answered this woman’s request with gusto. He not only took care of her debts, but also provided for her and her children’s lives. Considering her place in the story, we know she was faithful. She didn’t come to Elisha because he owed her anything for all the years of service her husband provided Elisha. She came to him in faith, knowing that God would provide. And oh, how he provided.

One day Elisha was passing through a town called Shunem. There was a very wealthy woman there who asked Elisha to come and eat with her and her husband. Elisha became close to the couple and ate meals with them anytime he passed through the town. Knowing that Elisha was a prophet of God, the woman talked her husband into building on a room for Elisha to stay in anytime he came to town. What a gift. When Elisha was back in town, they showed him up to his room. He was so pleased. Elisha laid down on his bed, it must have been one of those pillow top mattresses or maybe even a sleep number set to his ideal firmness, because he had his servant, Gehazi, bring the woman up to his room. Elisha wanted to thank her for going to all the trouble of building and preparing a room for him. He asked her if there was anything he could do for her. “Can I tell the king of your kindness? Or maybe I can put in a good word to the general for you?” She said, “No, thank you. I am just from a small town and don’t really want a lot of attention.” Elisha said, “What can I do to thank you, then?” The woman answered, “Well, there is one thing, you see, I can’t have kids and I’d really like to have a son.”

I have to stop here and let you in on a little secret. Throughout the Bible there are stories of little old barren women. And I can tell you that when a little old barren woman cries out to God, he hears. Just ask Sara, Rebekah, Rachel, Samson’s mother, Hannah, Elisabeth. I’m not one to make broad sweeping statements about God, but God is faithful! He is our deliverer and in the case of these women, he is literally their deliverer as he delivers babies for them. But, back to our hero, Elisha.

Elisha said to the woman, “This time next year, you will hold your very own little baby boy!” The woman’s jaw dropped. She said, “Now, don’t joke around with me. I’m too fragile to be tricked.” Elisha said, “No joke.” The next day, he left for other business throughout the country. In a few months time, the woman became pregnant. And a year after Elisha told her, she had her own baby boy. As the little boy grew up he would work out in the fields with his father. His father looked over at him just as the boy grabbed his head and complained of a really bad headache. His father was worried about him and had his servant take him into his mother. She held him on her lap until noon, and he died. Immediately she took him up to Elisha’s room and laid him down on Elisha’s bed. She told her husband that she was going to take a servant and go visit Elisha. He said, “But it’s not sacrifice time and it’s not even the Sabbath. Why go to him now?” The woman answered, “Don’t worry about it. Everything will be all right.”

Now, keep in mind that everything was not all right. Her son just died in her arms, her only son. Of course everything was not all right. Yet she made this pure, crystal clear, statement of faith. And that’s what it was, wasn’t it? It was a statement of faith. Can you hear the echos of Abraham answering Isaac’s questions about the ram? God will provide. Listen to this woman say, “It will be all right. God will provide.” Oh, to have that much faith in the everydayness of my life. What a testimony to God’s faithfulness! But I digress. Let’s get back to our hero Elisha.

The woman saddled up her donkeys and left, telling the servant not to slow down for her. He needed to get news to Elisha. As she approached Mr. Carmel, Elisha saw her and immediately knew something was wrong so he sent Gehazi, his servant, to meet her. Once again, when Gehazi met her and asked what was wrong she answered, “It is all right.” But when she made it to where Elisha was, the wealthy woman jumped down off of her donkey and violently grabbed a hold of Elisha’s feet. She immediately began questioning Elisha, “I asked if you were kidding me when you said the Lord would give me a son! I made you swear that you weren’t just giving me false hope! He said to Gehazi, “Gird up your loins.”

Now, let me take just a moment here to ask, “What is girding up your loins?” Wait, nevermind!

Elisha told Gehazi to go quickly, not stopping for anyone or anything, and lay his staff on the boys face. Gehazi went on ahead. But this didn’t satisfy the woman. She insisted that Elisha go home with her. So, he did. When Gehazi arrived at the woman’s home, he did just as Elisha had told him and placed the staff on the boy’s face. But there was no sound or sign of life in him. When Elisha finally made it to the house, he saw the child dead on his bed. He went in, closed the door, and immediately started to pray to the God of Life. Then, Elisha did the most remarkable thing. This is where the story takes on life of its own, so to speak. Elish stood up from kneeling. He looked down at boy’s lifeless body. And then he climbed up on the bed and laid right across him with his hands on the boy’s hands, his eyes on the boy’s eyes, and his mouth on the boy’s mouth as though it were some sort of holy mouth to mouth resuscitation. As he did this, Elisha felt the child’s body warm up. He climbed down off the bed and paced once back and forth across the room. Then, he climbed back on top of the boy, and immediately, the boy sneezed seven times. He sneezed! Sneezed! I said that three times in case you didn’t here me the first or the second. The dead boy sneezed and then opened his eyes. He was alive and well. Elisha had Gehazi call in the Shunamite woman. When she saw her living son, she fell at Elisha’s feet and immediately took her son down to his father and said, “See, see! I told you it would be all right!”

The Shunamite woman knew that God would be faithful and deliver her son. She knew that she knew that she knew! Because you have to know that poverty still offers hope. Hunger still has the pangs of hope in the growl that precedes even the smallest crumb of bread. But in death, there is not hope, none at all. Death is the ultimate hopelessness. And resurrection is the ultimate end to hopelessness, breaking it into a million little pieces. If God’s power and love cannot bring life to the lifeless, then what good is money or food or good health? Now, imagine what this story means to us as we are resurrected with Christ. Isn’t God good?

But it’s not over because when Elisha returned to Gilgal (and by the way, I mentioned Mt. Carmel earlier and Gilgal now because these are the two places that most reflected faith for these now settled Hebrews.) there was a famine. The group of prophets that Elisha was discipling was there with him. He told his servant to fix a big pot of stew. The servant went out and gathered up some herbs and spices from the garden. He found some wild gourds just on the other side of the garden and grabbed some of those, thinking it would be good in the stew. The servant sliced up the herbs and the gourds and cooked it all together. As he proudly served his stewed creation to the best prophets in all of Israel and Judah, he awaited their compliments to the chef. But instead of compliments, he noticed a couple of them gagging. Two others were contorting their faces in the most disgusted of expressions. Still another yelled out “There’s death in the stew!” They couldn’t eat another bite. Elisha, very calmly, said, “Well, then bring me some flour.” As if no one had thought of this before. Sure, I use flour to keep food from being poisoned. His servants brought it to him and he threw some flour in the pot. He told the servants to serve the other prophets and everything would be fine. And it was. The stew was suddenly good.

Wow, God can even make horrible food good. He redeems horrible things. He transforms that which is spoiled and poison into sustaining grace. It is beauty from ashes. How many of us live a mundane life, a life that just doesn’t taste right? How many of us live life that is downright poison? The same God who is at war with a world that would impoverish, kill, or poison is the same God who will sustain, enrich, resurrect, and make whole again. He is the God of possibilities.

A man came from Baal-shalishah and brought the best food he had grown and raised all year. He brought it to Elisha as a gift. Elisha told his servant to feed the people who were there. The servant indignantly asked, “How is this going to serve 100 people?” It’s like asking how God is going to give little old barren ladies a baby. Elisha said, “Just give it to the people and let them eat. God already told me that they’ll eat and have some left over.” When the servant fed the people, he discovered that apparently God was right and there was even food left over.

Each of these stories should remind you of the stories of Jesus. Countless times he healed, fed thousands, made broken people whole again. It was the message of the Kingdom of God! It was a reminder to people that God was with them and that he would not leave them orphaned. It was the ethic of his words put into action. When Jesus healed the sick, fed the hungry, raised the dead, he was illustrating what a faithful God does. It was not a sideshow of his ministry, it was the Gospel revealed in very real ways. It was the Word made flesh. Jesus’ message was holiness and his miracles illustrated just how God works in this world, the very same world he is at war in, transforming the broken, the sick, the hungry, the bored, the washed-out, the dirty, the alcoholic, the divorced, the abused, the faded, the lazy into whole and holy people of God spreading out into this world doing whatever it takes to pour out God’s blessing on those who need it.

But do you need God? Do you really need him or do you get along just fine without him? Because if you don’t need him, then by all means make room for those who do! Because there are people in this world dying to know the love of Jesus Christ and you are just taking up their space if you don’t need him. And I mean really need him. These are stories of Elisha and Jesus and the way God works in this world. They are the stories of people needing God and knowing that they need God. They are the stories of people who realize that they cannot be holy without him. Too often we try to live in a world stacked against us as though we don’t need anybody. We can do it on our own. And sure we can, right? I mean look at all you did to get that raise last year. You work hard to make great grades so you can get into the best college, or any college for that matter. Your home looks so inviting did you decorate it yourself? Sure you have a lot of debt now, but you’ve got to work the hours to get out, right? Joshua said, “Choose today whom you will serve. Would you prefer to serve the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates? Work, money, family, television (ooh, that hurts). My household and I will serve the Lord.” After assuring Joshua that they would have no problem serving the Lord Joshua says, “You can’t do it. You can’t serve him on your own!” We love doing these things on our own. But we can’t do it. We just can’t do it. So, do you need God? You see, he is not the God of empty promises. He is the God of possibilities. And if you do need him, then the time has come to take the blessings of a Faithful Deliverer and pour them out to others. Holiness is about loving God and loving neighbor and if you are missing one of those, you’re missing both. To love, you must be willing to live blessing to those around you including your mother-in-law.

Poetry as a Means of Grace

"On Turning Ten"
by Billy Collins

The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.
It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.


I share this poem with you because of some previous conversations and Ben Felders recent posts. This is an important poem because it speaks so clearly to the loss of imagination. It speaks to the reduction of theology by all of us who wish to "figure it out," map it, GPS it, nail it down, deduce it. This is what we've been taught to do with information we're given. And in it's defence, I am now doing what I argue against with this poem. We do it naturally. It rarely takes second thought. But as we learn to reduce theology to its common denominator, we forget what it was like when we fell in love with the God of Creation, Redemption, and Sanctification. Remember what it was like to become invisible. Remember what it was like when you were an Arabian Wizard and not stuck in the everydayness of your own theology. It was like looking through a window into heaven, Imago Dei tatooed on your face. It was the childlike faith Christ talked about, not some naivete.

Do you remember the first time you read Kierkegaard, Barth, Moltmann, or whomever? Of course you do. But what do you remember more, the theologians who shaped you, or the music you fell in love to. Elvis Costello never fails to move me. Mark Knopfler (of Dire Straights fame) never fails to remind me why I love my wife when I'm away. I love the Beatles song, "I've Just Seen A Face." And considering Emmanuel Levinas' essay "The Trace of the Other" I am moved even more (oops, there I go again). The point is, poetry and art have a clear advantage in speaking with God. It is a prayerful speach that will dance with words far longer than words will dance by themselves.

Tarzan Boy

I digress. . . The other day I was talking to John and a song popped into my head. I was instantly taken back to the middle 1990s Lysterine commercials that showed a bottle of "Cool Mint" Lysterine (or some other kind) swinging on a vine through a jungle. Now, that's not all that amazing, rather it is amazing to me that I cannot, though I try, get the song out of my head. I had to know what it was and where it came from. According to my research the song is "Tarzan Boy" by Baltimora. Baltimora was the pseudonym for Jimmy McShane, from Londonberry, Northern Ireland, who topped the Brit charts in 1985. The song actually reached number 13 here in the states in 1986. This was McShane's only hit making him just one in a long list of one hit wonders. The song appeared remixed on the soundtrack to one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It also appeared on the soundtrack for the Chris Farley movie, Beverly Hills Ninja. Apparently the song works with crappy martial arts pseudo kids comedy/action movies. And, at the risk of sounding like some overrun VH-1 show, where is he now? McShane apparently died at the age of 37 in 1995 of AIDS.

Now, hopefully, I can put this song out of my head and to rest . . . unless someone knows where I can get an MP3 of the song.

Is Theology Best Expressed by the Poet?

"God needs prophets in order to make himself known, and all prophets are necessarily artistic. What a prophet has to say can never be said in prose."
-Hans Urs von Balthasar

Been Down So Long, Looks Like Up to Me

Yeah! That's how I feel! Julia and I are recovering from another bout of sickness in two months. It is my second and her third in the same amount of time. As I recall the year 2005, I like to think of all that happened in terms of when I was sick. Do you remember the Harriet Miers attempted nomination to the Supreme Court? Mmm, I do. It was a glorious upper respiratory bronchial infection. And the death of dear Rosa Parks? I remember that cold. What about Hurricane Katrina? There was a mighty wind in my bronchial tubes again. Yes, bronchitis. The beloved Pope John Paul II went to the big Vatican in the sky while I was puking my guts out, a food poisoning of some kind. What about our glorious return to that final frontier we call space with the launch of the space shuttle Discovery? That's right, some sort of bacterial infection that causes coughing, congestion, and fever. I was sick a total of 7 times last year. Despite the fact that I am not one to get sick (at all), I'll live I guess. But this year has begun like last. Should I ever forget the Judge Alito hearings, all I'll have to do is remember the aching pain in my chest with sides of cough and headaches top with fever and sweats and there you have it.

I will say this, when you are sick, cable telivision would be a good thing. Maybe one of these days we'll have more than four half-received stations. Until then . . . may all your viruses be short lived and all your bacterial infections become a thing of the past.

I Was in Prison and You Visited Me

I have been feeling a bit dry as of late. I always enjoy ministering to children and families, but it seems too often in the life of a pastor that we do not get out of the church nearly enough. Lord knows I don't. I live church. It takes a lot of work to move out of my comfort zone of friends (who are Christian), family (who are Christian), co-workers (who are Christian). I get tired of them (no offense if you are a member of the afore mentioned groups), but it's true. I have been praying for an opportunity to minister to folks who have nothing to do with my church. Being the faithful God that he is, he answered my prayer in fine fashion and with cornucopia of opportunities.

Tuesday I started as an assistant coach for a 5th and 6th grade girls basketball team here in Guymon. We meet at our church gymnasium and work on basic basketball skills and conditioning. It is really a great opportunity, and the catch is . . . none of the girls or the other coach attends my church. What an answer to prayer, but it doesn't stop there.

Today, I had a fantastic pastoral opportunity to minister to a fellow who, over a year ago, was nicked by the local police during a fight with several other college aged guys. He is serving a six month sentence in jail. His mother and sister asked for ministerial contact.

It is in times like this, as we are able to move out into the community, in an act of Holy subjection, that we are truly Christian. I say none of this to highlight what I'm doing, but that when we ask the God of creation, redemption, and sanctification for grace, we can surely anticipate grace!

Evan's Most Favored 2005 Awards

Every year I give out awards of my favorite things. This year is special, because I will actually send awards to the people who win them. Here are the winners:

Most Favored Movie 2005
This was a difficult desicion betwee these five 2005 favorites: Sahara, King Kong, Millions, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. They were all fantastic an entertaining movies. And the Most Favored Movie 2005 is . . . Millions.

Most Favored Talk Show Host 2005
The winner of this award is new to me this year and in fact is responsible for my new love of XM radio. And the Most Favored Talk Show Host 2005 is . . . Glenn Beck.

Most Favored Telivision Show 2005
While usually I am not a fan of hospital dramas (at all), but this show is worthy of DVRing every week! And the Most Favored Television Show 2005 is . . . House.

Most Favored Magician 2005
In a dramatic coup d'etat, this magician steels the all time reigning champions of magic and illusion. And the Most Favored Magician 2005 is . . . Ricky Jay.

Most Favored Book 2005
This was an easy one for me. This book, which would normally be a work of fiction is in fact a work of theological Orthodoxy with nuances of all the good parts of sectarian faith lumped together! What a concept. And the Most Favored Book 2005 is . . . a Generous Orthodoxy by Brian D. McLaren.

Most Favored Musician 2005
This was a tough choice between the winner and the band Weezer. I have had huge respect for him since the middle 1990s. And the Most Favored Musician 2005 is . . . Ben Folds.

These are the awards. Have a happy New Year!

The Great Grape Ape

Funny I would think of Hanna-Barbera when thinking about King Kong, but I do. I will say that I wasn't thinking about cartoons when I sat (riveted, I might add) watching the 3 hour Peter Jackson phenomenon this past weekend. I've had to think extensively about what I would write or I would have written it sooner. I had a great fear that I would be so positive about the movie that it would sound trite, but here goes nothing.

I have never (this is not just hyperbole) been so emotionally drawn into a film in all my life. There, I've said it! Don't make fun of me, just read on! This movie is not (dare I repeat myself), is not just some action adventure flick with lots of guns and high-kicks, a grunting evil doer, and a building full of C4. There is no real clear antagonist, as much as we want to pin Jack Black's Carl Dunham down. This film is about relationship. Ann Durrow's (Naomi Watts) relationship with Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody). Ann Durrow's relationship with King Kong. Carl Dunham's relationship with Jack Driscoll. Carl Dunham's relationship with Preston (Colin Hanks). Jimmy's (Jamie Bell) relationship with Hayes (Evan Parke). Each of these relationships go through tramatic changes that deepen friendships and love. This is not to say King Kong is without both action and adventure. The 3 hour film spends the first 40 minutes letting you get to know the characters before throwing the ship against the craggy rocks of Skull Island. There was one point as Ann Durrow is hanging from a breaking ladder from the Empire State building when I lost my stomach. King Kong is as engaging as movies come these days.

Peter Jackson's wide seeping camera shots capture the heart and soul of city and jungle (albeit CGI). Jackson pulled off the Art Deco New York in the 1930s transformation. The choice of shots and angles really pulled out the memory of the original King Kong film while giving just enough of the new to make Jackson's film as original as a remake could ever be. The choice of Jack Black as Carl Denham, while at first may sound like Mickey Rourke as St. Francis of Assisi (Francesco), Black pulls it off with room to spare. Naomi Watts' performance as Ann Durrow redeems her from The Ring 2's perfomance which nearly spoiled I Heart Huckabees for me. Overall, Peter Jackson's King Kong was a terribly fun and will surely be ranked one of the top 5 movies of 2005.

The Lion's Share

In a year of less than favorable movies it is good to know that there are a few shining examples of good film making. While I will probably comment on Peter Jackson and his King tomorrow, today I would like to spend some time with The Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I remember my mother reading C. S. Lewis' books to me every Sunday afternoon. She would read until she was too tired to read (she fully expected me to take a nap afterward). When she fell asleep, I would slip out and go play. Since then, reading aloud has become something I love to do, and something I love to hear. (digression is one of life's hallmarks.) When I found out last spring that Walt Disney and Walden Media were teaming up (sort of) to make this first installation, I was very excited. I knew that with the CGI movement, it would mean that the characters would neither be silly nor would they be too scary. The actors chosen to play the children, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were brilliant with the heaviest weight on Edmund and Lucy. They must have taken direction like a dream. Edmund was perfectly sinister until his reconciliation through Aslan with the other children. Lucy could not have been more perfectly played. The CGI characters were wonderfully and nearly flawlessly created. What a beautiful film that will continue to inspire children as well as the books have.

Oklahoma Forum prognosticator and Jornalism professor Kathryn Jenson White spoke out against the crusadic images in the film saying that the timing of such imagry in a film is unfortunate. The question posed was "What were the worst films of the year?" White placed The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe in the same cinematic category ("worst films") as Bewitched, and The Dukes of Hazzard. She went on to say that the film (LWW) was overtly Christian and that the good guys were obviously Christians and the bad guys were obviously not Christians (as thought being Christian were an offense in and of itself). Despite the obvious tone of anti-Christian dogma, let's look at the images that in her words were crusadic. The lion on the shield reminded White of Richard the Lionheart. I can't say that I didn't think of good ole' Richard while watching the film, so there is a connection to what she's saying. However the real connection White is working with is associating the current war in Iraq with the crusades. To say that this country is involved in a Christian movement to reclaim Jerusalem (oh, goodness, I guess we're not fighting for Jerusalem are we?) is an offense to my Theological and historical sensibilities. This country is not Christian. White is looking for connections to add fuel to the hyperbolic soundbites that suppress real thought and discussion. Her bumper sticker journalism will continue to damage how folks think of Christians. Isn't it bad enough that we have to deal with folks like James Dobson, Pat Robertson, and Jerry Falwell? Now we deal with folks on the other side giving Christians a bad name. One more question, why is it that when folks can't come up with a real argument why Christians are bad, they bring up the crusades? I don't bring up slavery everytime I want to come up with an argument why Americans are bad.

Now that I've gotten all the compliments and defences out of the way, let me say that this film was not without its problems. I have but one criticism that will actually keep this film from being the Evan Abla's Best Movie of the Year. In C. S. Lewis' book, while the children are with the Beavers in the dam, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver tell the children about a prophecy in which Aslan will make things right when he comes. However, in the film, the prophecy is about the how the children will make things right. Now, to some this won't sound like much, but it is. The Deuteronomistic history (Joshua, Judges, 1 & 2 Samuel, and 1 & 2 Kings) is filled with stories about folks who tried to do it themselves. Time and again God showed his people that God does the delivering around here. This is a huge distinction. Gideon didn't conquer the Midianites. God did! There was no "Gideon did it." That story, like all of the stories in Judges is about God. Here, C. S. Lewis would agree, LWW was all about Aslan. Allegorically, of course, Aslan is the Christological figure in Narnia. In the book, it was all about how Aslan delivered Narnia. The movie fails in this aspect by making it all about the children and how they delivered Narnia. All I can hear are the echoes of Judges 7:18 "When I blow the trumpet, I and all who are with me, then you also blow the trumpets around the whole camp, and shout, 'For the Lord and for Gideon!'" Too bad Gideon thought it was about him. Remember, Gideon began his life as a Baal worshiper died a Baal worshiper after he was done with God.

The Holy Trinity

With Christmas so close, I thought I would take some time to comment on the hope and grace we have in Jesus Christ. My friend Ben Felder wrote a great little article on the Holy Trinity on his blog, http://www.benlori.blogspot.com/. Ben, commenting on what Robert Jensen has written on the Trinity, "the Trinity is the scripture in a nutshell." What a statement. I think this is most clear in the movement of the Holy Trinity, facing in and moving out. The Holy Trinity, that is, Father, Son, and Spirit, faces in relationship with one another and moves out to effect the transforming grace in the world.

A relationship with the Other is most difinitively expressed vis a' vis, face to face. Not present or absent, but in the face to face. The Trinity faces in, the visage of each person of God facing the Wholly Other visage of each person of God. This is a model of relationship within the church. We must face each other, come together, be present to one another despite our absence. We must congregate, purposefully to model the Trinity (worship, fellowship, community). This is our calling to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might." Deuteronomy 6:5 NRSV.

A relationship with the Other is fulfilled in the action beyond/ignighted by/necessitated by facing in. The Trinity does not stop at the mere facing in (expressed by some deistic models of God as well as a simple "unmoved mover" model), the Holy Trinity moves beyond him/herself. The Trinity moves out into the world to bring blessing, effect grace, and love in the perfect act of reconnecting God and man. In the same way, we must move out into the world, bringing blessing to the other, reflecting God's grace, and making disciples (compassion, disciple-making). This is our calling to "Love your neighbour as yourself." Leviticus 19:18.

By this, we can see that "the Trinity is scripture in a nutshell." To model the Trinity is the Great Commission!

Back in Town

Julia and I are back from a short, but fun trip to our friends, Tim and Glenna, who live in Syracuse, KS. Syracuse is a very small town, but we had an extremely restful and relaxing time. Wednesday and Thursday, Thanksgiving, we did nothing. I mean, we did something, but that something, was wonderfully refreshing. Sure we ate, but mainly we chatted and watched television, or read. Friday we drove over to Pueblo, Co for a bit of shopping on what folks now call "Black Friday." We did not get up and stand in line at the Wal-Mart or wherever at 4 in the morning. But we did go to a mall for the first time in about 2 years. Anyway, I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.

Amos Lee

As soon as Julia and I heard his performance on Austin City Limits last night, I knew I'd be downloading the album from Rhapsody this morning. While Amos Lee must be holed up in the genre folk, this singer-songwriter cannot be ignored as at least to some degree as a new voice in Blues as well. He's touted such influences as John Prine, James Taylor, and Neil Young (who I saw at Chicagos Globe Ampitheatre with Crazy Horse in 1996 or 1997, he headlined while Dave Mathews Band opened). When I listen closely to tunes like "Seen It All Before" and "Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight" I hear Taj Mahal and Ben Harper. There's a sort of Bluesy/Funk undertoe sweeping through Lee's slow folky cadence. His voice is still original with hints of South Carolina inflections at the ends of each word. Lee graduated an English major from the University fo South Carolina, though he is a Philidelphia native. His first and self titled album is now available.

Well after day two of not being able to utter anything above a whisper I went to the doctor. Like Evan last week, I ended up with a shot in the behind, but I'm supposed to be feeling better very soon. I'd already lost my voice for a couple days earlier this year, but just from straining it and not being used to talking for 6 hours straight. The students acutally tend to listen better when it's like this. I find it difficult to communicate everything I want to say though. I felt pretty powerless a few times today because I couldn't assert myself.

And I keep wanting to call my mom and talk to her about it, but she wouldn't be able to hear me. Mom - if you're there, you can e-mail me!

I'll be taking tomorrow off so I won't have to fight a losing battle to recover my voice. Friday is their test. Hopefully I won't have to do a lot of talking. :)

Until then, here's to hot tea, hot soup, humidifiers and Vicks Vapor-Rub.

Our Cat Vegas

I would never have thought we'd have a cat. In fact, Julia and I historically are anti-cat. That is to say, we would never deny their existence as one of God's created creatures, but we also wouldn't go out of our way to be around one. I've personally always seen a cat's demeanor as stuck-up constructs of their owner's personalities. Cat's have always been animals for the more elitist pet owner. Until, of course, that pet owner accumulates more than 2 and 1/2 cats at which time the elitist pet owner becomes . . . well, creepy! Anyway, this summer, my wife and I discovered that we actually like a cat. His name is Vegas. It keeps in the current theme of pet names (our greyhound's name is Chance). And I like Las Vegas. He is a particularly friendly cat. All this to say that even the most set-against folk can change. You just have to find a cat they can bet on.

Don Cuttill

Henri Nouwen (McNeill and Morrison too) wrote in Compassion, “When do we receive real comfort and consolation? Is it when someone teaches us how to think or act? Is it when we receive advice about where to go or what to do? Is it when we hear words of reassurance and hope? Sometimes, perhaps. But what really counts is that in moments of pain and suffering someone stays with us. More important than any particular action or word of advice is the simple presence of someone who cares. . . . These reflections offer only a glimpse of what we mean when we say that God is a God-with-us, a God who came to share our lives in solidarity. It does not mean that God solves our problems, shows us the way out of our confusion, or offers answers for our many questions. He might do all of that, but his solidarity consists in the fact that he is willing to enter with us into our problems, confusions, and questions.”

My brother inlaw’s birthday is today. Don Cuttill died on 29 September 2005. He would be 46 years old. Late August-early September Don went to the doctor for a check up and was immediately rushed to the hospital. Doctors removed 8 inches of his colon. He was fine, though he still needed chemotherapy. Two weeks later doctors put in the port for the chemo. A week after the port the first dose of chemo came. It was a heavy dose, and made him ill. He recovered quickly. A week later the second and lighter dose came. He went home from work, tired and complaining of some pain. He fell out of bed that evening, stopped breathing, and the responders and doctors couldn’t revive him. He died. My sister, Chad, and Chandler live on. They are incredible people and this can be attributed to a great deal to the kind of person Don was. He too was amazing.

He taught me how to treat my wife. Once when my brother, Marc, was a teenager and was being particularly mean and inconsiderate to my sister (I think he punched her in the arm or something) Don grabbed Marc, threw him up against the wall, and told him that he was never to touch his [Don’s] wife again. At that moment Marsha was not Marc’s sister, she was Don’s wife. Now, when someone takes an unkindly tone with my wife (though it rarely happens) I simply remind them that they are to speak to her with more respect.

Don liked music. I remember whenever he’d take me anywhere, the radio was on the classic rock station and Led Zeppelin would start playing “Stairway to Heaven” Don would turn it up and say, “A little Led for the head.” That always makes me smile. He wasn’t limited to the classics, though. He liked Dave Matthews, Jack Johnson, Cold Play, Eric Clapton, Government Mule, The Doobie Brothers, and more. He really liked B. B. King. And who can blame him for that. Don played the guitar himself, but not just any guitar, he played a Martin. He also had great taste in movies: Caddyshack, Ground Hog Day, Fletch, Stripes. And who can forget Jerry Lewis.

We had the best time last year when Marsh, Don, Chad and Chandler as well as Marc and his family visited us in Kansas City. We went to Oceans of Fun and just got toasted by the sun. I’m glad we did that.

Don was a model of the Love of Christ to his family and everyone else around him. People loved to be around him. When Don laughed, it was as though the world stopped, took notice, and laughed with him. Sometimes it is hard to laugh now. We all love him and miss him. May we always remember the blessing he will continue to be in our lives. He is truly a gift.

Here’s to God's solidarity and here’s to Don Cuttill. His life is blessing!

Evan asked me if I was going to blog . . . what to say? . . . I think it's probably time to get internet at home again, since the state of Evan's desk does not help my creative writing processes.

Today I did 5 lab stations demonstrating Newton's first two laws of motion . . . the law of inertia and the Force = mass x acceleration equation. If I threaten the kids within an inch of their life, they do pretty well, particularly in such a cramped space as my room. I think the students are beginning to actually retain more and hopefully connect what we've been talking about all year.

I'll have had four observations in my class in the past two weeks by tomorrow. I really enjoy the actual teaching part of what I'm doing, so I don't really think about it much. But it also seems like a lot of the problems I was dealing with earlier are more 'tolerable' now. Maybe I'm just getting meaner. :) I think the kids are more concerned about them than I am. Although yesterday I got so mad in seventh hour my ears were actually hot. That doesn't happen very often.

I think a real disadvantage to public schools is the disconnect between all the subjects. Not just math with science, but math with literature or history with music, etc. How many times have I heard a student exclaim, "This is just math?!?" No, it's not just math -- it's math in your hands, concrete and comprehensible. The great thinkers of history are ones who could comprehend the broad scope of knowledge and integrate that into a particular field or break new ground with old concepts. I can see the wisdom of some teachers today teaching their textbooks 'backwards' by beginning with the bigger picture and working into the details. My deductive mind has to think through this approach very slowly and carefully, but I defintely see the potential. And this is the beauty of a liberal arts education. We focus so much on knowledge retention but very little on the skills to deal with it. But this is also very dangerous and I'm not sure the goverment should telling me how to think anyway.

Well, that's enough for now. Wednesday night means fast food supper and home late to work on tomorrows lesson. I'm getting hungry.

Julia.

Prestigitator of Prestigitators

I just read an article in the June 2004 issue of Smithsonian magazine entitled "The Wizard of Odd" about the incredibly intelligent and often ellusive Ricky Jay. I'm sorry that I only found the article recently. It has renewed my own interest in the conjurer. I remember first seeing him in 1993 on an episode of The X-Files entitled "The Amazing Maleeni." He struck me then as a bit more haughty than most magicians I'd seen. In the television show, he set up his routine around a history lesson which immediately drew me in. Now that I've read this article, I am even more amazed at his illustrative prowess. He made a comment about Houdini in the article I am inclined to believe. "He [Houdini] was never a good magician," Jay says. "He was one of the most amazing exponents of bombast in the world, a shameless self-promoter. He did some real inquiry into the history of magic and unusual entertainers, which I find very appealing. But he treated other magicians very badly. He is not my hero." If anyone knows of any upcoming shows, I would like to know about them.

Anyway, it's a cold blustery day here. This is a bit of a let down considering yesterday it was almost 80 degrees. I have a bit of a cold or something.