Just Reflecting
Easter is over, Lent has come and gone, and now we begin the road to Pentecost.
The past six weeks have been rich. My absolute obsession with coffee has subsided for the moment into a more manageable enjoyment. (I'm having a latte a little later this morning.) God has been showing me some new thoughts that I'm terribly excited about--I'll come to those in a bit--and I can't help but say I am more personally hopeful than I've been in a long time.
The resurrection of Jesus is a staggering event. It was wonderful yesterday to just loll about in the thought of it, as well as its implications. If, as Nathan Smith said so clearly and beautifully last week in one of the responses to my last post, that contemplation is the highest aim, then contemplation of the resurrection can be one of the true joys of life.
The Northwest Church was packed yesterday morning. I was there at 7:00 a.m. to begin preparations for the dramatic piece being done in each of the day's three services. Thanks to Melody and Allen Cox for doing the two-hander for me, a brother-sister piece relating to the death of their father and the woman's embattled decision to come to faith. I have no idea what the impact of the piece was, but people listened and looked thoughtful, and several said they enjoyed it, which was not exactly the intent, that people "enjoy" it. (Though I suppose if they hadn't, it could be completely written off.)
Then, in my Bible class, I stood up and read a story by Tolkein called "Leaf by Niggle." It's a story that Jeffrey Overstreet turned me on to a few years ago, and it has come to mean a great deal to me. There were about 12-15 people in the class and we had a wonderful time hearing about the painter whose speciality was leaves, but who could barely get any done because of a long series of interruptions. It's a delightful and deeply meaningful tale for anyone who makes art. If you're an artist, track it down and read it now. It will give you courage to continue.
On another note, last night, as I sat and watched the last performance of the dramatic piece Allen and Melody were doing--called "Easter Beach", by the way--I couldn't help but wonder about the people in the pews. I had a conversation this past week with Dick Staub about the nature of the church. Staub said that he thinks that is one of the major questions of this generation: what is the church? Who is the church? What is the church for? What does it mean to be the church?
I guess I'll blog a long time about that later, because it's very much on my mind. But I want to mention a few thoughts that came out of the past week.
1. Read Joana Smith's delightful story about "Mercy" in the comments to my post of 4/7/06. Delightful and haunting at the same time, about the replacement of one window with another as a small girl faces change. Joana's been posting comments lately, and if you haven't read this smart, poetic woman's thoughts on some of the various posts of the last few weeks, go back and look. She's one of my favorite people in the world...I'll do a longer post on her work later, but be sure to check out Joana and her music here.
2. The pursuit of happiness as it's own end, in that, properly understood, it fulfills God's purpose for humanity. Now I'm not saying that very well, but if you haven't read Nathan Smith's (Joana's husband) response to my post of 4/7/06, you need to go read it. Nathan is a very, very bright man I met a couple of years ago at a wedding...his. I had the great honor of marrying Joana--a former student of mine, Joana Blair was her maiden name--to this incredibly intelligent (and handsome) man who I came to appreciate and admire very quickly. Nathan and Joana are now in Paris where Nathan is studying philosophy and Joana is writing poetry and music. (Sounds positively 19th century, in all the best ways.) Anyway, I count them as dear friends, and I was thrilled to read Nathan exquisite rendering of "Happiness, Human Action, and God's Will." I'm still mulling it, but wanted to point to it very directly.
3. Sacrifice as part of the basic DNA of being human. I'm fond of saying that making art is simply part of what it means to be human. Dick Staub said essentially the same thing the other day regarding sacrifice. That sacrifice is crucial to living a fully human life because it is part of God's design for us, part of His image in us, part of what it means to have His love in us. To avoid sacrifice is to avoid being fully human, and indeed, to avoid the God-nature inside us. As with all things, Jesus revealed this by his life. (This was a Good Friday conversation.)
Resurrection, mercy, happiness, and sacrifice as part of the journey to being fully human...
...a rich, rich week...
9:44:03 AM
