15 Minutes to Puzzle Complex Life Questions

I'm never early. Typically, I'm five minutes late. Not MORE than that--anything past 15 minutes is just rude, but I have conditioned myself to believe that I can do ONE MORE THING before I need to leave. It's not that I'm lazy--I'm actually task (yet not so much time) oriented. Thus, I grew up with my mother telling me that I would be late for my own funeral. This morning, however, I found myself with an excess of 15 minutes before I needed to be at work. Some of my type A friends would say that that means keep on trucking over and don't dilly dally. But I'm a Beta--we like to set our own agendas but don't mind overmuch if others take the lead. As long as they know what their doing, of course. But I digress. So, I had some time to spare and lo--serendipity! Barnes and Noble was across the road. What else is an addict to do? Now, how can you possibly have a grand time in 15 minutes or less in a bookshop? By hitting up the Humorous, Nonsensical and Odd section. I read a practical guide that I'm sure to need once I go to Scotland (Raising Unicorns: Your Step-by-Step Guide to Starting and Running a Sucessful-and magical!- Unicorn Farm), and an alternative to positivism: All My Friends are Dead. I next contemplated purchasing an Alex Beard Nautilus Impossible Jigsaw puzzle set but I hadn't any friends to give it to, which was disappointing. I don't know why I have the urge to buy things like that. Just like those polar bear bookends made of glazed marble: I gave all my books away once I bought a kindle! Oi!: The things one contemplates in 15 minutes. Anyway, I wasn't more than 5 minutes late to work. Honest.

Faith without illusions: an honorable mention

So I was at my home away from home, (also known as Barnes & Noble) this evening and I found this book Faith Without Illusions by Andrew Byers. Now, I don't normally spend a lot of time in the Christian Inspiration section because, let's be honest, too many of those books aren't theologically sound. You've got Mormon, New Age, etc. crammed in along with the latest apocalyptic sell and a myriad of superficial devotions. I'll confess that I've been tempted to re-enact Matthew 21:12 when I see some of these cheap marketing ploys. You want real Christianity? Get in the word of God. Park your seat in front of it and skip the excuse channel. As a relevant aside, I've been attending The Summit in Durham, NC. Our pastor, J. D. Greear has been going through a series on the Gospel, and the main exposition comes from John 15. Since it has been on my mind. I'll share the prayer that we've been challenged to make a part of our daily lives at the end of this post. Anyway, I'm POSTING the mention of this book because Byer's book actually seems like a descent primer for the young believer who also needs to beware of building up illusions that aren't based the Holy Scriptures but are really false ideologies. If you've already read it or are reading it, let me know your thoughts, eh? GOSPEL PRAYER 1. In Christ, there is nothing I could do to make You love me more; nothing I have done that makes You love me less. 2. You are all I need today for everlasting joy. 3As You have been to me, so I will be to others. 4. As I pray, I'll measure Your compassion by the cross and Your power by the resurrection. www.jdgreear.com

Reason and Sentiment in Art

(Charis-Kairos (The Tears of Christ) 80x64", Mineral Pigments, Gold on Belgium Linen--Makoto Fujimura " Charis (Grace) Kairos (Time), takes the methods I developed for my Soliloquies series which exhibited my large scale works with Modernist master Georges Rouault's paintings. Taking Rouault's indelible images as a cue, I decided to start with a dark background, to illumine the darkness with prismatic colors. I write in the introduction to the Four Gospels' project by Crossway: "I painted the five large-scale images that illuminate this volume, The Four Holy Gospels, using water-based Nihonga materials (Japanese style painting), with my focus on the tears of Christ (John 11) - tears shed for the atrocities of the past century and for our present darkness." (Makoto Fujimura) To my delight, I'm discovering that there is a growing interest in contemporary and modern artists among evangelicals. Still, many of my peers are uncomfortable with what they would argue is essentially an emotional medium of without regard for reason. However, and to an extent, I agree with Marshall McLuhan that the medium is the massage. Now, I'm not advocating postmodernism, ambivalence, or religious relativity. I simply pose the idea that we ought to consider each work and the context of its presentation with an open mind. For example, one of the most internationally respected Christian artists, Makoto Fujimura, abandoned the comfort of realism and instead communicates to the broken and isolated of New York City through abstract expressionism. Yet the beauty in his works speaks to the soul and affirms the truth of propositional sacred statements,making soul sense of the cerebral data. I forget who said this but one composer is quoted to have said that if he could communicate the truth with 'real' words, he needn't bother with music. Emotions and experience are not the truth's enemy. The abstract is the sense that our vocabulary is ill-equipped to rationally apprehend. Of course, sensations may be good or they may be evil. But whatever they are, they are powerful. As such, must Christians submit to the premise that abstract expressionism must ipso facto abandon the basic principles of rational engagement that initiated the clearest formation of the Enlightenment? I don't see why that should be the case. Writing from the mid-nineteenth century, Victor Cousin wrote a powerful statement that when there is a beauty of reason engaged in sentiment produce a true sense of humanity: "It is a singular, but incontestable fact, that as soon as reason has conceived truth, the soul attaches itself to it, and loves it. Yes, the soul loves truth. …..Sentiment follows reason, to which it is attached; it stops, it rests, only in the love of the infinite being. In fact, it is the infinite that we love, while we believe that we are loving finite things, even while loving truth, beauty, virtue." A true artist engages the brilliance of reason and intuition. The mind is never suspended: Intellectual effort is required through discipline to technique and through meditative attention on God. And by abstract’s nature, invites mystery and vulnerability. While prudence determines what is appropriate for the public, abstract’s persuasive language enjoins community.

An Ode to Helena-Moriah

An errand yesterday evening sent me back a good twenty years as I drove through the fields and forests of Timberlake where I was raised. Driving with the convertible top down and U2's Joshua Tree pulsing the rhythm and beat, I played with a smile and let it win. It felt good to visit the homeland. It's interesting how returning to a place at different points in life help ease the journey onward to someplace new. Sometimes I think we avoid places or people, afraid that we'll end up back at the beginning. As if the world just stopped and you're still back there and, like singer laments, she's running to stand still. But I've come down my Carolina road too far and the choices and experiences that I've made have fashioned a confidence that childhood monsters can't terrify anymore. I'm not running, I'm just living and loving the journey. That knowledge tucked in my pocket lent a nostalgic sweetness in the fading summer light and I let the memories roam. With the song of the crickets and katydids rising from the tobacco fields, I sang along an ode to my Helena-Moriah. The buck and doe held attendance in the growing shadows as I passed by on an old country lane and I thanked God for making a home for me in His presence. In an odd continuity and discontinuity, I'm coming home and I'm passing on. For now, I'm moving my hat to a new sunrise, a new time and song. I'm reminded to keep alive the brightest memories of Helena-Moriah Rd. And as I passed the lone old oak tree in the middle of the field, I went on singing With or Without you but not meaning a word of it. Praise God.

Fight Club, Light Speed Monsters and Invisibility Cloaks

Overcoming the speed of light to unleash the Hyde within? 

Invisibility, another super power that people have desired for thousands of years may just yet be the plausible outworking of science and ingenuity. I have always found it interesting that the desire for invisibility is almost always enjoined to that of increasing one's fame and personal glory. The flip side of the coin of such an innocuous ability defies the everyday experience and begs the hungry soul to embrace unregulated or uncontested freedom. It's almost schizophrenic, if you think about it. One side respecting order, social responsibility and soul integrity. The other, operating under the cloak of ego, anarchy, and unrestrained self-interest. Call me crazy (no pun intended) but I connect the above pattern of the personal war of invisibility with the film Fight Club. It may seem random  to connect invisibility cloak theoretical development with Fight Club's protagonist and Tyler Dirt but the motivations of Dr. Jekyll and the monstrous Hyde coincide within every man and should this actually become a practical, effective garment, I see shadows in the side vision. It seems that man is always trying to overcome light but to what end? Of course I love that an undergraduate is tinkering on the idea in a lofty physics vault at St. Andrews. Makes me feel just bloody great. 

see also : Light speed hurdle to invisibility cloak overcome by student

Tuesday 09 August 2011

 http://www.st-andrews.ac.uk/news/archive/2011/Title,72428,en.html

We don't eat

It bothers some of my friends that I rarely listen to "Christian" music. I counter criticism that secular and sacred are indivisible to the Christian. If art is anything, it is spiritual. Let everything be to God's glory. Further,  the obvious reason for avoiding the mass production of current "Christian" music is that it tends to be theologically inane, and an embarrassingly aborted attempt of creativity and depth. Not all of it,  I grant, but too much. Of course I don't swing to pendulum uncritically support "secular" quality either. I listen to classical, swing, indie, rock, and a great many singer/songwriters. I listen closely to music and frequently look up lyrics to read the words that the beat obfuscates in rhythm and feeling. Sometimes I'm embarrassed how carried away I was with a melody to such stupid words. Other times, I'm drawn in all the more to the questions that I missed in the hearing, the seeking artist's vulnerability, because the sound was either too good or unremarkable. Sometimes, it comes together and I just want to share with others. Case in point, The Civil Wars nail judgment and human folly in Barton Hollow. Mumford & Sons give voice to the questions, passion and regret of our hearts.  Another, an Irishman, James Vincent McMorrow, recently released a brilliant album, Early in the Morning, that reflects biblical themes in several of his lyrics. I'm still going through his work but here's one of my favorites that I can't stop playing We don't Eat :

If this is redemption, why do I bother at all

There's nothing to mention, and nothing has changed

Still I'd rather be working at something, than praying for the rain

So I wander on, till someone else is saved

I moved to the coast, under a mountain

Swam in the ocean, slept on my own

At dawn I would watch the sun cut ribbons through the bay

I'd remember all the things my mother wrote

That we don't eat until your father's at the table

We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust

Never once has any man I've met been able to love

So if I were you, I'd have a little trust

Two thousand years, I've been in that water

Two thousand years, sunk like a stone

Desperately reaching for nets

That the fishermen have thrown

Trying to find, a little bit of hope

Me I was holding, all of my secrets soft and hid

Pages were folded, then there was nothing at all

So if in the future I might need myself a savior

I'll remember what was written on that wall

That we don't eat until your father's at the table

We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust

Never once has any man I've met been able to love

So if I were you, I'd have a little trust

Am I an honest man and true

Have i been good to you at all

Oh I'm so tired of playing these games

We'd just be running down

The same old lines, the same old stories of

Breathless trains and, worn down glories

Houses burning, worlds that turn on their own

So we don't eat until your father's at the table

We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust

Never once has any man I've met been able to love

So if I were you my friend, I'd learn to have just a little bit of trust

Let me know what you think, what you've discovered, eh?