More Nabokov

. . . I know something. I know something. But expression of it comes so hard! No, I cannot … I would like to give up—yet I have the feeling of boiling and rising, a tickling, which may drive you mad if you do not express it somehow. Oh no, I do not gloat over my own person, I do not get all hot wrestling with my soul in a darkened room; I have no desires, save the desire to express myself—in defiance of all the world’s muteness.

Nabokov, Vladimir (2011-02-16). Invitation to a Beheading (p. 67). Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.

… Wait! There, I feel once again that I shall really express myself, shall bring the words to bay. Alas, no one taught me this kind of chase, and the ancient inborn art of writing is long since forgotten—forgotten are the days when it needed no schooling, but ignited and blazed like a forest fire—today it seems just as incredible as the music that once used to be extracted from a monstrous pianoforte, music that would nimbly ripple or suddenly hack the world into great, gleaming blocks—I myself picture all this so clearly, but you are not I, and therein lies the irreparable calamity. Not knowing how to write, but sensing with my criminal intuition how words are combined, what one must do for a commonplace word to come alive and to share its neighbor’s sheen, heat, shadow, while reflecting itself in its neighbor and renewing the neighboring word in the process, so that the whole line is live iridescence; while I sense the nature of this kind of word propinquity, I am nevertheless unable to achieve it, yet that is what is indispensable to me for my task, a task of not now and not here.

Nabokov, Vladimir (2011-02-16). Invitation to a Beheading (p. 69). Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.

The Day of Pentecost 2012

One of the scriptures read today in Church reminded me of one of my old unfinished plays.  I will ruminate on it and see what unfolds.

From the Second Chapter of Acts of the Apostles:

“In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.”

The word of the Lord.

******

There was a cake at coffee hour, since the day of Pentecost can be considered the church’s birthday.  It was white and had a dove and flame-like decorations on the top.  I talked to three people.

First there was Nell, who has lived in this town since 1948 when she moved here from Minnesota.  She told me about how there used to be a swimming pool where the jailhouse is now.  Then I talked with Cheryl.  She visited a Speech Pathologist for the first time this past week.  She sings in the Sweet Adelines and is seeking professional help because she can’t hit the high notes like she used to.  At 77, she realizes that age is playing a role in her issue, but she just wants to see if therapy might make an improvement.  Cheryl doesn’t look or sound a day over 60, by the way.  My other new friend is a barber named Phillip.  He said that my name is beautiful.  The only drawback is that you can’t find it in the Bible.  The name Phillip is in the New Testament, “but he wasn’t a very popular apostle,” lamented the barber.  I assured him that popularity is overrated, especially when it comes to apostles.

Later my mother told me that the Bible says that the apostle Phillip was filled with the holy spirit and that his daughters became prophetesses.  How appropriate.

The Essence

Every once in a while I need to remind myself why I choose to pursue a spiritual life and why I am a Christian.  Sometimes I become so overwhelmed with the litany of injustices the “church” has committed and continues to perpetrate that I begin to wonder why I cling to a belief system from which so much destruction has sprung.  Admittedly, none of these unjust actions are inspired, promoted, or condoned by the actual teachings of Jesus Christ, but the litany of atrocities and cruelties committed by his followers is impressive.

I have several friends and acquaintances who have walked away from religion altogether.  They see it as an oppressive force that damages society.  “Yes, there are individuals who have harnessed the power in their religion for good, but these people would have done the same without organized religion,” they argue.  “Overall religion has been an excuse to wage war and oppress the ‘other’.” Perhaps they are right.  So why do I stay in the church?  Why do I pursue Christianity?  Is it merely habit, or a product of my conventional nature?  Is it timidity, a fear of living in a world without a God, or an inability to accept that everything happens in life is the result of our own merits or, even worse,  chance?

* * * * *

Father Bliss met me at the door of the Church last Sunday.  He suffered an attack of Bell’s Palsy sometime during the preceding week and half of his face hung lifeless.  Although he was unsettled by the new condition in which he found himself, it did not deter him from his priestly duties.

The Gospel reading was John 15:9-7.  This passage contains the verses “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you,” and “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.  No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

Father Bliss delivered a simple but beautiful sermon out of the functional side of his mouth.  He recounted all the ways that Jesus loved his followers.  There was nothing in his sermon that anyone familiar with the life of Jesus hasn’t heard before, but it was a lovely reminder.  One of things I appreciated about Father Bliss’ sermon is that he did not focus on Jesus’ death and crucifixion as the primary symbol of Jesus love.  Instead he emphasized the daily sacrifices Jesus made for his followers.  For Christ laying down one’s life meant hours speaking with people in the hot desert sun, befriending undesirables, touching the untouchables, devoting himself to healing others, defending the weak and oppressed, comforting those who mourn.  Love  is a daily, an hourly process, not just something that happens at the very end.

The second half of Father Bliss’ sermon touched on the relationship between having compassion for oneself and extending it to others.  This is a bit of a digression from the purpose of my post, but I feel that this point is so important that I can’t leave it out.  There is a connection between how we treat ourselves and how we treat others.  Please understand, I am not referring to 1980’s Whitney Houston “The greatest love of all is learning to love yourself,” pop psychology.  I’m not advocating that a person should spend a vast quantity of time focusing soley one’s own healing before contributing to the healing of others.  Perhaps there are short periods of time with this in necessary, but learning to extend kindness to one-self, just like learning to extend it to others takes a lifetime.  In my experience the two processes travel along side-by-side. But it is important to realize that in order to forgive certain transgressions in the other, one must also forgive or overlook those faults in oneself.  Likewise, in order to have compassion for another human being, one must begin by being compassionate towards oneself.  Love heals the lover and the loved.

When my father was a minister he often preached on this verse.  “It is the new commandment that supersedes all other commandments; the Levitical code, the Ten Commandments, The Golden Rule“ he would say.  “No longer are we to ‘Do unto others as we would have them do unto us.’  We are to love others as God loves us, as Christ loves us.  This is the new principle that eclipses the old law.”

Christ’s love and his commandment to imitate it is the essence of Christianity, the nut, all that really matters.   Words are inadequate to describe how this ideal inspires me, how it gives meaning to an existence that would have no meaning otherwise.  No matter how many perversities arise from Christian Kings, Popes, Pastors, Congressmen and Presidents, I cannot abandon the pursuit of a life lived in and with the type of love exemplified by Christ.

Lulu – 10.5 going on 21

In August my niece Lulu and I will be launching a new blog.  Lulu is very excited and so far she is unaware of my ulterior motives.  A couple of months ago Lulu was tested for learning disabilities and it turns out that her expressive and receptive language abilities are a bit impaired.  Lucky for Lulu, her aunt is a speech-language pathologist in training.  The upcoming blog is all a ploy to improve Lulu’s language and writing skills.  So far, Lulu is oblivious.

We’ve been discussing the project for a couple of months now and excitement is mounting.  The focus will be fashion and fitness.  Beauty and fashion were Lulu’s topics of choice.  I had to coax her into adding the health related piece.  My passion for improving other people is endless.

Today we tossed around ideas for blog names.

“How about ‘Lulu’s Fashion and Fitness Blog?” proposed Lulu.

“That’s a good start,” I said.

“Or,” Lulu continued, “We could call it . . . 30 Days . . . to a Really Hot Body and How to Get Really Skinny.”

I tried to explain that being healthy and being skinny are not the same thing but she tuned me out after 3 seconds, “Yeah, I know, I know, I know,” she said.

* * * * * * *

Lulu has a cell phone in order that her harried, full-time plus overtime working mother can keep track of her.  It is my niece’s most prized possession and her lack of linguistic skill is no barrier to the speed or intensity of her discourse.  This afternoon I heard this conversation from the back of my car as Lulu chattered into her phone.

“ . . . she either needs therapy or she needs medication.  Seriously.  No, I only get mad when a teacher makes me mad.  I do not get mad for no reason.  She gets mad for no reason.  She needs counseling.  If she doesn’t do something she is going to end up in ISS (In School Suspension).”  Lulu and her friend continued discussing their fourth-grade classmate’s anger management problem in this way for a few minutes.

“I can’t wait until I get a car,” the subject changed suddenly.

“You’re ten!” I butted in.  “What do you mean you can’t wait until you get a car?”

Lulu ignored me.  “I’m going to get a slug bug.  No, oooh, a mustang.  I’m going to get a mustang.  What?  An SUV?  SUVs are for old people.  Like parents.  You know, old people.  That’s why I am not getting an SUV.  You know what? I’m getting a hummer.  I know they are luxury vehicles and that they are expensive because they use entirely too much gas, but I don’t care because I am going to be rich.”

“What are you going to be doing to earn all this money,” I asked.

“Vet!” she yelled at me before returning to her call.  “I know that it takes four to eight years but I am going to put my future ahead of me.”  I realize that she is repeating some version of her guidance counselor’s explanation of college.

This raising children business is more challenging than I realized.

The Gay Marriage Debate

Lulu’s most recent church drawing

Much has been written and posted about the gay marriage debate in the past few weeks.  Several posts came through my Facebook feed that I thought provided interesting commentary.  I am proving links to these posts on this issue of Christianity and Gay Marriage and I invite anyone passing who might pass through to take a look.  I am a Christian who, without hesitation, supports the rights of same-sex couples to marry.  I also feel that LGBT individuals should be fully embraced by the Christian community as they are without any expectation that the sexual orientation of these individuals will change.  Perhaps sometime I will expound upon this statement, but there are much more eloquent writers than I who have made and are making their voices heard on this issue.

Here are a few:

Crumbs from the Communion Table – A Challenge to Both Sides of the Amendment One Debate

How to Win a Culture War and Lose a Generation

The Top 8 Ways to Be Traditionally Married According to the Bible

Less is More – A Rant Against Bible Belt Customs

One of the first things I encountered when I started at Baylor was the  “I can do all things through him who strengthens me,” painted above the door to the Baylor gym in the student life center.  I receive email daily from people who paste their favorite Bible verses below their name and job title.  “The Lord is good and His love endures forever. His faithfulness continues through all generations”  (Psalm 100:5,) and “The Lord bless you and keep you; The Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious unto you; The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace” (Number 6:24-26), are favorites.  My mother, like many people in this part of the world, has plastered her walls with scripture plaques purchased from Hobby Lobby, the only craft store that closes every Sunday.  I can see three from where I currently sit, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son” (John 3:16) hangs next the lion and the lamb painting.  Beside the door sits “And now abide faith, hope, and love, these three, but the greatest of these is love” (1 Cornithians 13:13), and “They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength.  They shall mount up with wings like the eagles.  They shall run and not grow weary.  They shall walk and not faint.” (Some psalm somewhere).  In most homes these are often hung next to family mottos such as “God bless this house and all who enter here” or “Prayer . . . when life gets too hard to stand . . . kneel.”  I recently encountered the faith, hope, and love plaque in the restroom of a local bakery.  It was hung close to a framed sign that read “Changing the toilet paper does not cause mental retardation,” and in another home the statement “If you’re going to act like a turd, go lay in the yard” sits among phrases of Christian inspiration.

I couldn’t decide how to react to having Christianity shoved in my face continually.  It was amusingly provincial, yet off-putting at the same time.  The first time I encountered the bible verse above the gym door, I smiled and made the decision that as long as the verses thrown at me remained positive, and they almost always have been, then I would accept them with grace and in the spirit with which they were offered.  Despite this conscious choice, I am still not comfortable with these religious displays.

I am a private Christian, rather than the Tim Tebow sort.  Scripture should be ingested, unwrapped, questioned, used as inspiration for artistic expression, meditated upon, used as a catalyst for action, and ultimately allowed to transform.  Sometimes this is a personal experience and sometimes it happens in a group, but I am not the type to use Bible verses as wallpaper or to have them screaming from my t-shirt.

I won’t say that loud and proud Christianity is wrong, but it does smack of insensitivity to the wide-range of spiritual beliefs that exist in our world, narrow-mindedness, and a lack of perspective.   As I mentioned earlier, the verses I encounter are inspirational and positive.  For the most part the contents are not divisive or controversial.  It’s the religious nature of these sentiments that are challenging.  Forcing scripture on others belies an attitude of certainty and a conviction that one’s beliefs are so absolutely true and correct that one doesn’t have to take into account the feelings and beliefs of anyone else.

Christians often complain because the religious expression of other groups such as Muslims or Hindus, are not met with the same ire in this country as that of Christians.  Let me state the obvious and say that Christians receive more backlash because they are the predominant religious group.  If I lived in a country that was overwhelmingly Jewish or Hindu and either one of these groups shoved their propaganda down my throat, I wouldn’t be any more comfortable with their scripture than I am with Christian Bible verses.

Here’s my personal take on this particular issue.  If I meet an imam on the street today and he greets me with a Muslim greeting and hands me a verse from the Koran, I’m going to receive it with ten times more grace than I will if a Baptist pastor does the same.  Do you know why?  That imam hasn’t been in my face for 37 years.  He wasn’t present in my childhood to institute extreme religious ideas, the scars of which I still bear.  That imam doesn’t have representatives in Washington pushing a conservative agenda based on his religious values that I believe are harmful and violates the rights of others.  Perhaps he would do and have done those things if he had the opportunity.  Maybe he wouldn’t, but he doesn’t have this type of power.  Therefore, my attitude toward him is positive and open.

Less is more.  Power and spirituality are difficult bed fellows.  Perhaps if Evangelical Christianity could grasp these concepts, they would do more to advance their cause.

And here is where I own up to the fact that this post, which was intended to be a thoughtful examination of the Evangelical Bible-Belt culture I find myself in has devolved into a weird rant.  I’ll come back to this topic another day.

Rest in Peace

I received word today that one of my animal friends passed from this world today.  Rest in peace Onna Fat Cat.  I meant to write a children’s book about you, but I never got around to it.  You will be missed.