today’s cheery quip; my heart was warmed (in some strange way)

The reformer is always right about what is wrong.  He is generally wrong about what is right.

–Chesterton (with thanks to Rustin)

we might call this lived-hyperbole

Robyn Okrant is living Oprah.  (Wow.)

one way to save on gas …

gym sin

Such transgression sorta make my gold-card gym membership a little less impressive.  (Who knew?)

just one of wright’s many great intros in recent days:

SECOND NAZARENE
  There is also the miracle of the daughter of Jairus.
FIRST NAZARENE
  Yea, that is sure. No man can gainsay it.
HERODIAS
  Those men are mad. They have looked too long on the moon. Command them to be silent.
HEROD
  What is this miracle of the daughter of Jairus?
FIRST NAZARENE
  The daughter of Jairus was dead. This Man raised her from the dead.
HEROD
  How! He raises people from the dead?
FIRST NAZARENE
  Yea, sire; He raiseth the dead.
HEROD
  I do not wish Him to do that. I forbid Him to do that. I suffer no man to raise the dead. This Man must be found and told that I forbid Him to raise the dead. Where is this Man at present?
SECOND NAZARENE
  He is in every place, my lord, but it is hard to find Him.

–Oscar Wilde, Solome, as sited in NT Wright’s Surprised by Hope

i may be a geek, but …

I find the idea of a shadow system in our (American?) economy deeply fascinating and disturbing.  Did you realize that very rich people are making “bets” on how our markets are going to perform, keeping these bets anonymous & totally deregulated, and making a heckof-a-lotta dough when they get it right.  (One implication here is that wealthy people are not “betting on” [or investing in] legitimate economic initiatives within the market.  Rather, they’re merely “betting” around them.  If they win - as I said - they make some quick cash.  If they lose - maybe it’s only if they lose big - average Americans like you and I foot the bill.)

Sounds crazy, huh?  (Tell me there’s something I don’t understand.)

If words like “complex derivatives, commodity futures, and otc derivatives” make your head hurt (but you’re still sort of curious to know what’s going on), you might give this interview with Michael Greenberger a try.  Seems like we oughta get some of this stuff figured out (before we all wind up living together) …

with a savior, not a script

I was part of a great discussion tonite with a small group from Beggar’s Table.  Part of our conversation circled around N.T. Wright’s suggestion that the church has been invited to improv in the final act of our Creator’s production.  We discussed improv … and how the “improver” often feels.  (Uncomfortable, excited, nervous, naked, liberated … all made a showing.)  For my part, I couldn’t shake one story that came to mind about a friend who was asked once to “kill some time” (i.e., improv) while stalling for a camp speaker to show.  Ten minutes turned to twenty, twenty to thirty-five.  All the while … my friend leading countless refrains & choruses, keeping a couple hundred kids unaware of the hiccup.  That is, until the camp speaker finally did show and the evening’s MC requested one final improv-moment.  Would my friend now take a moment to lead the gathered assembly in a thank you song on his [my friend's] behalf?  After what must have been a double-take and no shortage of sense that this had to be the goofiest moment of his musical career, my blessed (horrified?) friend, Gorman led the entire camp in chorus: Thank you Gorman.  Thank you Gorman.  Thank you Gorman.  Thank you Gorman.  Thank you Gorman.  Thank you Gorman.  Thank you Gorman.  Thank you Gorman.

It must be - to this day - one of the most truly absurd improv moments ever to find expression.

But so many others are chasing at its heels.  It seems to me that NT Wright got this one right.  The church is learning (or trying to learn) to improv.  Not surprising, then, to me - in fact, maybe a little endearing - that the undertaking is (both in concept and execution) just a bit absurd.

private joke?

I keep discovering little gems I missed while sick-in-bed.  This one, a video shared among my own faith-community, may be funny to only a select few.  (Funniest to the staff team I serve with?  All too familiar with the language and concepts here ridiculed; the humor is life-giving in-so-far as it suggests we don’t have everything figured out.) 

So for my own soul and maybe for yours (or at least a chuckle or two) … 

year 32: jt’s b-day psalm (aka prayers from the dark-side)

Life has been so unbelievable up to now.  (It seems to me.)  It’s difficult, still, for me to get around its harshness.  I want to soften the edges.  I want to forget–or misremember, at least–the hardest, most broken parts.  And yet, in some strange way, these are the very parts that have made me feel truly alive.  These are the deep(est?) places in my experience and they cause me to feel most present to myself.

It’s strange–and silly–to me that even the smallest of life’s disappointments and fears can trigger so quickly the deepest moments of life’s pain and hurt.

So my Office-Depot-boyfriend up and got married.  So what?  So …

So all of a sudden I am wondering again at my own misguided hopes and ideas for intimacy.  Past and present.  (Does nothing I aspire to in life make sense?  Are none of my inclinations founded?)  Are You, God, here in this on-going conversation with me?  (Or had I only imagined as much?)  Must I be forever out of step with Your agenda?  What’s so tough about us getting onto the same page?

It seems such dissonance is not in the essentials.  We’ve got the daily tasks and errands figured out; I’m on-board with the purposes of life.  But in the non-essentials.  In the moments of wishing and hoping; in desiring and deep-longing … why can I never seem to be in synch with what You’re all about?  When “we” pause from the duties at hand, pull-off the roadside for Kwikstop, and run inside for a treat … why do I always feel so disappointed in the end?

O Lord, may I more fully receive Your desires for me.  And not just in the big moments or lofty-goals … but in the little “I want chocolate” or “I’ll take pink” (ice-cream & Starburst) moments.  I need to believe You are signed up for those with me as well.

I have missed us–and such honesty together.  Has it been a day or a decade since such candor?  Forgive me for failing to be more forthright.  Begin–please–to mend our very small and average conversations of-late.  Begin to keep company with me in the places where I’ve been withholding interaction and trust.  I’m wanting to love you still (and so much deeper than I do) …

–3/08, Jt’s Journal (because every once in awhile it’s okay to let others peek-in)

let’s give ‘em something to talk about

While I find much to critique and celebrate within our American political system, I sometimes find myself –simply–merely amused.  A BBC article this past weekend brought these dynamics together with such finesse, I thought it worthy of a nod.  Here’s the teaser …

If you have been struggling to buy doughnuts in Des Moines just recently, or a snow shovel in Cincinnati, then I may have good news for you. The storm system of political energy which is America’s primary system has safely passed for another four years leaving the air trembling with energy in its wake. The winning strategy is to dream big, and to think small. In a country whose constitution guarantees voters the right to pursue happiness, you must offer what one strategist called “the vision thing”.