Memories from New York 2006

I remember the first night we were there, it was sort of late, and we were tired from traveling all day. Since we hadn't had any dinner, we went to a local restaurant that was probably half the size of my dorm room (8x8 maybe). Anyway, I remember this one guy, probably aged in his 40s (50s maybe) who was also ordering food, and I remember he was telling a couple of that he was "a very sick man." I didn't quite understand what he meant, because I know I've been pretty sick a few times in my life. But then a young neighborhood kid who apparently knew him ran in, laughed at him, and then told him he had AIDS. The guy took it gracefully, perhaps knowing that it wouldn't be worth it to shoot a retort at the kid, knowing his own shortness of life.

Several nights later, our evening task involved preparing food and setting up tables for some several impoverished adults in the community, many of them elderly. But for about half an hour before it was time to eat, we were paired up with some of these adults to play some board games with them. I ended up playing chess with a very elderly gentleman. He could barely talk, and I could barely understand him, so verbal communication was sort of out of the equation. Early on in the game he looked feeble in his moves---he would often point at potential spots that he could move certain pieces, especially how far knights could go---and for that I decided to go easy on him. He turned out, however, to be a brilliant strategist, and got me good on a few moves. The game got really intense, especially getting down to the wire, when I started getting back at him with my king. Unfortunately we never got to finish the game because the people that were in charge called us to dinner. I did, however, get a picture of the game with my camera phone, so I do have record of where it ended. Soon afterwards I did talk to some of the hosts about my game and about the guy I played against. I found out he was almost 90 years old, and he did have some ailment that has escaped me since a few seconds after they told me.

These events didn't really hit me right away, but have been growing on me a bit more and more as the months (and years now) have gone by. Sad to think though that both of them might be dead now. It's scary to realize that possibility, knowing that they knew their time was rather limited by the time I crossed paths with them. And maybe as a result of it I may have impacted the last part of their lives simply by listening to or being near them. I'm planning to go down to New Orleans next spring (or maybe Gulfport, MS; I haven't decided). It'll be kind of scary if I have a similar kind of experience again, knowing that I'll run across yet another soul that knows its relatively imminent departure.

...I wonder if the guy who fell down into the subway tracks is still alive. I wonder if he's still on drugs. I remember Cara saying that maybe he realized something had to change and if he would lead a different life. Part of me doubted that, dismissing it as wishful thinking but still hoping for the best.

Now and forevermore be thine

So it's done. And to be honest, once we got to the concerts it barely felt like work (except for my efforts to prevent me from yawning, for those of you who saw me in theaters today). But as I've probably said before, I hate the mass choir rehearsals and all that extra prep we have to do, but it pays off immensely during the performances.

So that's 16 out of 16 (or 20 out of 20, including the dress rehearsals). To break it down further, that's four with Viking, eight with Chapel Choir, and four with Cantorei (or 5, 10, and 5 respectively, see previous parentheticals). Done. I will never have to be cramped up in the creaky wooden bleachers with 500 other singers, maneuver between said bleachers and the main floor while pretending to mouth the processional and recessional hymns' words that I sort of know, or contend with cameras potentially looking right at me (the last one was this year only). But I will probably also never again sing in a mass choir this good. I mean, you're talking five of the best college choirs, and one of the best college orchestras in the nation (yes, I am biased). You're talking five awesome choir directors, all of whom (except Armstrong) I have either taken a class with, or had as a substitute prof. And since quite a few of my remaining college friends are in at least one of these ensembles, it marks the last time we're all performing together, possibly for the rest of our lives.

So then, why make a big deal about it in this post? I figure you might assume senior moment, but honestly I wouldn't call it that. Yet, anyway. I still have another semester of school, and a choir tour in April to look forward to. But I couldn't help but scan the room during the applause to see if anyone from my year was tearing up (there were a couple).

Back to the grind.

So, another T-day come and gone

 

I did a bit of traveling today, heading down to Rochester with a family friend for the T-day festivities. The food was great, as always, and so was the company. I even got to play the organ for a bit, leading everyone in the room in a rousing rendition of "Now thank we all our God" for grace. That was fun. I even got to play with the cat for a bit.

 

I think I'm still affected somewhat by the early darkness, even though it's been getting dark at 4:30 every day for the last month. We left at 5:00, when it was dusk already, and after returning to campus I took a nap an hour later, and it honestly felt like it could have been 10 PM when it was only 6 PM. I woke up awhile ago, and proceeded to hit the "next blog" icon at the top of the screen, in spite of my previous disappointments when I saw what replaced my blog on the screen. I was pleasantly surprised at what I found. In my search to jump-start my faith again (which I did yesterday by reading five chapters out of Revelations so I could see what the fuss was all about) I came upon this blog ["http://veniteavedere.blogspot.com/"]. It's only a month old, so there's not much written, but I appreciate the insight the writer gives in terms of dealing with some of life's frustrations. For example, in spite of having so much to be thankful, I am still frustrated that I'm delaying writing my annual list of things to be thankful for when I don't seem motivated to do so, or send messages to various friends wishing them all a happy thanksgiving (I went nuts last year; I swear I sent messages to just about everyone I knew). But then again, one of the posts from the blog I looked at argues I should give anyway, regardless of whether or not I feel up to the task.

 

Ranting aside, here's what I'm thankful for (ordered in what comes to mind first):

1.) Family and friends (and family of friends)

2.) Pets (Cotton and Taea*)[*blogger's note: spelled incorrectly, correct spelling is "Teya"]

3.) I'm still in college for six more months

4.) Food, and other things I can consume

5.) The fact that God is still looking out for me (why this isn't higher up on the list escapes me)

6.) The blog (trying to take advantage of it before I suffer burnout, which might happen)

7.) A working computer (I don't know why I waited a whole month before getting it fixed)

 

My mom is coming up tomorrow, and she will be bringing many things I left at home back in September, including my winter coat and a bunch of CDs.

Program Notes

"The Rise and Fall of Barbaro"

The work is programmatic, chronicling the life and death of one of America's most famous horses in recent racing history. The music follows his accomplishments and tragedy in two main sections, the first roughly in ABA' form, the second in a rise-and-fall of outpouring sadness at his plight.

Barbaro is first introduced by the solo trumpet with short little motives that begin diatonically and gradually shift chromatically. The ebb and flow of the music in the first half reflects his early racing victories with several different thematic melodies. When it crescendos to a triumph at the end of the B section it reflects his last major victory at the Kentucky Derby on May 7, 2006. The music afterward becomes more agitated starting at A', creating suspense for the next race, the Preakness Stakes, in which Barbaro would presumably win en route to possibly being the first Triple Crown winner in three decades. However, as the music approaches the climax the whip strikes and the melody begins to break, representing the horse's hind leg breaking during the race.

The tam-tam sounds at the beginning of the mournful second half, perhaps foreshadowing that this injury would ultimately lead to his death. The sobbing in the clarinets and oboes represent not only the horse's turmoil, but also those people across the nation who were touched by his plight. The music at the en has the strings rising into the stratosphere, accompanied only by the tam-tam and the tubular bells, suggesting that perhaps Barbaro is finally at peace.

________________________________________________________________

Late next week, Ole Orch will read through my orchestral composition project from last semester. I will be there, and I will have a CD recording of the "performance." And yes, it's been a busy (and trying) month.

Intentional juxtaposition of points

Over the past few rehearsals and performances, I kept finding more and more reasons why I like Cantorei, and it's kind of funny just how they kept hitting me. Even though we do a lot of hymn-anthems and monophonic singing, the stuff we do reminds me most of what I did while singing in church choirs as a kid, more so than any other choir I've been a part of. For one, we rehearse every Wednesday in Boe, so those days we have the organ accompanying some of the pieces we have. We had a couple services/concerts earlier in the week, and I was amazed at how many people were touched by it. It helps to know the wide variety of worship experiences where fulfillment could be achieved. I know, because I had an experience like that after one of them.

For my comp lessons, my goal this semester is to have two pieces ready and set to be performed for my comp recital next semester. Right now I am working on a six-part choral piece (much like what Charles V. Stanford does in his "Beati quorum via," which, ironically, Cantorei will be doing at some point this year), based on excerpts from a couple psalms, #2 (Why are the nations in an uproar) and #130 (Out of the depths). But what motivates me to juxtapose these two texts is theme I'm trying to set up. Psalm 2 suggests an anger at the clashes between several nations, and Psalm 130 hints at a sort of despair, possibly as a result of these inter-national clashes, and hope, where turning to God will help solve all these problems.

For my Ethics of War class, in addition to reading all these books about different arguments about war through the Christian lenses (and possibly those of other religions) we have to attend seminars occuring every other week where multiple faculty members involved in the semester theme "Liberal Arts in Times of War" lecture on various books on this subject. So the piece I'm writing will include (albeit subtly) some of these sentiments about war and the contending nations, and how it affects/will affect the rest of the world. I think I'm trying to portray a message of some sort with the juxtaposition of texts, but while it's a little blunt and short to explain point-blank a vision of what we as humans should do in life. So I'll have to use some of my musical creativity (whatever's there, anyway) to dramatize it as much as possible.

Turn WHERE now?

I kind of got interested in writing yet another addendum to the whole spirituality journey. As I've been saying (I think it says on my blog profile, anyway), I'm never at a destination, and I would record a little blurb every time I hit something new in the road. Not only does it kind of continue what I wrote ["http://n8daoggblog.blogspot.com/2007/09/turn-right-at-next-intersection.html"] a couple Fridays back when I went to the unofficial Catholic house, but also some kind of declaration I made almost a year ago ["http://n8daoggblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-choice-of-faith.html"] when I went to All Saints for the first time during junior year.

Although this has been far from recent news, I'm back to a denomination-less mindset of Christian self-practice, and I'm thinking there are several factors behind this choice. First off, this weekend I had a choir retreat and tour with Cantorei both Saturday and yesterday, which was absolutely amazing. Part of it is, I had virtually no expectations, as it is my first year in this particular choir. But at the same time I'm beginning to understand its mission---specifically to share God's love through its music and its Christian themes---and perhaps this experience will help me in determining how involved I should get with both theology and music. Also, as I gain more knowledge and spiritual realizations (through what I discover on my own, and through what God specifically reveals to me, respectively) I'm starting to look back on the previous stops in the journey and make sense of those various groups and myself at that particular juncture.

For instance, I feel like I'm not exactly at home with FCA anymore largely because their collective doctrine is too infected with some kind of political/jock mindset (where everything has to be black and white). At the same time, their lone strength---communal energy and joy---was exactly what I needed when I joined during freshman year. [Although it does help that many of the people I befriended at the time, while some were athletes, were Christians at heart, Christians first (whereas last year I felt like I was on the outside).] As I had previously gone through a period where I separated myself because of the confusion and utter lack of trust that I had in the church as an institution, I needed something simple, something to convince me to believe in God again. And the idea that I could have a relationship with him rather than just going to church every week opened me to new possibilities than I'd ever thought before. Not only that, but the idea that I was already forgiven because of Jesus dying for my sins and that I just needed to believe IN him to be "saved" was just what I needed because this simple command of faith would help me return, in some small way, to what I had been immersed in before.

Of course over the next couple years I would learn that there was much more than that. After all, if I were to have a relationship with God I needed to devote some time (and I've tried, with mixed results) and sort through all the theological implications over all aspects of life. As I gradually became exposed to more and more of the theological sphere I realized that there were a lot of things that humankind had put in (specifically anything that included politics) and it frustrated the crap out of me. I realized that I couldn't just be a bystander, as I very much was during my years before St. Olaf, and even during the first two years on the hill. I'm not sure what steered me back to the Episcopal church a year ago, especially since I was so tired and upset with how it was conducting itself back in Chicago during the first half of this decade. But somehow I was sick of wandering through the whole stripped-down side of Christianity as I was trying to decide where to land in this relatively new sect/area that had appealed to me for a short time.

I think a lot of this had to do with the people I was surrounded by in all those years. During HS, with the exception of a couple, all those close to my age that I actually felt were friends to me were those with whom I sang in the St. Luke's church choirs. Even as things were getting bad, I stayed for a short time because I didn't really want to separate myself from them. The case, in terms of friendships, was very similar when I joined FCA. During the first four months (spanning from January-May 2005) I made quite a few friends, combined from our church lock-in and trip to Lani Land on back-to-back weekends during Interim, and from the Arkansas mission trip a couple months later. But over the months and years since, people gradually moved away (either graduated or just plain stopped going), and when they did I found myself frustrated with their absences. As a result, perhaps some of my frustration carried over to how I listened or saw things at FCA (and also some of the other groups). I recall spending a couple posts last winter/spring critiquing some of the things various a couple speakers said, especially this one. ["http://n8daoggblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/misconstrued-connotations-of-power.html"] As I was saying, it could either be out of frustration of the lack of said friends I'd made, or it could be that since their presences may have covered parts of the group's mission that may have frustrated me I was suddenly exposed to those potential frustrations.

Last Sunday (i.e. not yesterday, but the week before that) I went to All Saints for the first time this year. I knew that with a new year there would be slightly different group of Oles who would choose that parish for their Sunday worship. Don't get me wrong, I still love the people there (i.e. clergy, townie parishioners and choir people), but I recall after church I spent the rest of the day feeling like a mess. And it was for probably the same reason that I got a little frustrated with FCA  and perhaps with TNBS as well, in that the absences of those that were here last year but have since moved on probably affected me somewhat. The good thing about the Saint Paul's Outreach is that since it's my first year being affiliated at all with them, I don't have to worry (right now, anyway) about missing anyone that was no longer there. But even as I will soon begin to explore the weird mysticism that is the Catholic faith [caveat: this does NOT mean I'm going to become a Catholic, so those of you who had any worries can exhale] this turn to their side is almost the latest, new way of hiding a possibility that I'm letting my attachments to specific individuals influence my journey. As a result, this series of acts run contrary to my goal, which is to let God influence my journey (and live in me while he's at it).

Yeah, I kind of didn't mean this to turn into a rant, but it had been on my mind for a few days. But at least this time, unlike previous years of rants, I can actually really say what I'm trying to say, instead of trying to tip-toe around stuff. I will say this, though, the readings and discussions from my Ethics of War class is helping me with my religio-spiritual identity. It's a heck of a lot of reading, but I'm really pushing myself to get the most out of it as I can. And I'm sure it will play some small part in my latest denominational wandering.

Turn right at the next intersection

So tonight I joined my friend Alan ["http://virmagnussum.blogspot.com/"] for dinner at the unofficial Catholic house (although I didn't know it until after I got there), and subsequently joined the St Paul's Outreach alias (similar to FCA, etc., but Catholic). Thus my spiritual/religious journey takes another turn. Scary.

I'm still involved with the Episcopalian Canterbury group, so it's probably not like I'm going to change that much (if I can convince myself I was Baptist for a couple months and return un-brainwashed, I know I will be fine). Besides, I see it as a chance to meet new people. Updates will come over the next several months.

So we have cats again

The last few days I couldn't help but think how awesome it was to have cats living at home again. That's right, Cotton and Teya were dropped off here in Chicago back on Friday. After a couple days of adjustment (although Teya adjusted quicker than Cotton) they're starting to feel more at home again. I kind of have to say, the last few months (although I was only around for a small part of it) have been kind of weird, knowing that when everyone was out of the house it truly was empty.

I also saw the Simpsons movie again this weekend. The first time I watched it, it was kind of an overwhelming experience in that the show I'd followed was finally on the big screen (and in a sense, more real than it had ever been on TV). The second time going there allowed me to focus more on the details, and perhaps even catch anything I missed from watching it the first time. But what struck me was how much more human the characters sounded, as opposed to the usually gimmicky voices that usually accompany cartoon characters. I don't necessarily need to see it again on big screen. Twice is enough.

Not much else going on the home front. I could certainly detail more, but then I'd sound about a generation or two older than I really am (or I could just post less often). I'm glad the death toll from the Minneapolis bridge collapse has been minimal. I still pray that no one I know was among the "unaccounted for."

Pics of Cotton and Teya will come soon (meaning probably September, since I email my phone pics to myself and save them to my computer before uploading them elsewhere).

THIS is my latest composition...

For a brief shining moment tonight--and this was sometime soon after I'd gone into the computer lab in the music building to work on my 20th century fugue--I started pondering new pieces to write for various instrumentations that covered instruments my friends played, so that they could be performed at my upcoming senior composition recital sometime during the upcoming school year. It has been kind of a rarity because I've been focused primarily on my writings for my counterpoint class, as well as my job as a tour guide this past week and reflecting on my life to date (really, is there a time I don't reflect?). So while I've been learning quite a bit in my class and writing project works to demonstrate said understanding, I feel like all of my actual energy has been used for it. Not that it's a bad thing, but I know I'm fully capable of expanding it to multiple areas all at once (see last semester: GPA-wise it was my best semester at Olaf).

I haven't really been feeling all that composerly lately. Outside of class projects, I finished writing a choral piece that I started back in March or April and entered the choir part into Finale, and barely started kind of a rock piano song (quasi-Ben Folds style, but doing my best to not imitate it). That brief shining moment that I mentioned at the beginning was really the first time since about May 22nd that I felt excited about composing and had some sort of half-assed inspiration within me. Part of it could be thinking ahead to my comp recital and trying to decide what pieces (both already written and yet to be written) will go on the program (max. 40 minutes). But since then I have returned to my room and checked my email (and ESPN.com news) for the almost-umpteenth time, and through as much quasi-reading as I can muster I haven't been able to put together a coherent idea.

This is not the first time I've undergone a compositional drought. I spent much of the year 2004 wallowing in a dearth of inspiration and motivation, probably because at that time I was fresh off losing my church, and--really--my social and spiritual center. An odd thing that happened during that time was I "composed" a piece early on in the year where I copied and pasted bits and fragments of damn near every actual piece I'd written up to that point. There was absolutely no form to it; it was all transposed to one key (more or less) and in some cases dramatized to show the overflow of musical emotion found mostly in Romantic-era or Neoromantic-era pieces.

I'm not sure what my coming-and-going excitement for my comp recital will inspire. I know of several friends who will want to play something in it, so it will be a bit easier for me to write something for them (if I don't already have a piece suiting this particular purpose). But I feel I've hit yet another dangerous crossroads, one where, if I decide/realize theology or religion is where my heart is, I may have to risk a difficult process for crossing over into yet another field where I did not have too much experience in the recent past.

This is not to say I feel like doing the music major was a waste. In fact I'd argue the opposite, in that I finally received some thorough education as to what to consider when composing, as well as basically going through the experience of having hands-on criticism of a piece both in progress and in its completed state. But at the same time it bugs me that I have to keep changing directions to find out what I want to do in, and get out of, life.

I have a meeting with my counterpoint professor tomorrow right after class, in which will be his first look-through the beginnings of my 20th century fugue. Unfortunately it's been a much tougher task than the Renaissance counterpoint or Baroque fugue projects so I've accomplished only three more measures to bring my total to seven for the piece.

Choir Camp 2007

Today's concert concluded a decently busy week of singing, what with two rehearsals a day, plus a "dress" rehearsal this morning. St. Olaf hosted two music camps, the first being the generic "Music Camp" where HS students came for a week and spent the majority of their time singing/playing their instrument and performing in their respective ensembles, the second being a sort of piano forum camp. Since I'd spent the week taking my counterpoint class as usual, I didn't really think much of it being a camp for me. But after the concert today I realized that this was an unusual circumstance for me to be singing in a choir, and I realized it was, in a way, a choir camp for me too. I hadn't been to one in five years (still crazy to think it was that long ago), and what with realizing that many of my friends are spending parts of this summer working or attending camps of some sort I realized this would be a possible future line of work (albeit part-time). [Anything choir-related would be one of the few areas where I would have enough skills to land work. We'll see.]

I'm kind of sad I won't be singing under Dr. Aspaas next year. Once again I realized how fortunate I was to have been able to sing under him for two years, but since next year I'm going to Cantorei I will have experience with another choir director's style.

An Outline of the Faith

Q: What are we by nature?

A: We are part of God's creation, made in the image of God.

Q: What does it mean to be created in the image of God?

A: It means that we are free to make choices: to love, to create, to reason, and to live in harmony with creation and with God.

I read through the Catechism this morning, looking for a source of information in which to somewhat quell my distress. Since I've been focusing on the negative aspects of human nature, I've grown to hate it, citing it as the main reason why we've been straying from God. But I love the response to the second question in the Catechism, because it oulines (albeit vaguely) what we are able to do in life.

Q: Why then do we live apart from God and out of harmony with creation?

A: From the beginning, human beings have misused their freedom and made wrong choices.

Q: Why do we not use our freedom as we should?

A: Because we rebel against God, and we put ourselves in the place of God.

I already covered about the bad aspects of human nature, and the reasons given in the second set of responses pretty much covers my thesis (although I haven't written one yet) as to why it's so hard to live the life God wants for us.

Q: What help is there for us?

A: Our help is in God.

This is where, I believe, the necessary intimate relationship with God comes in. It's where we trust everything of our being to him and know that he will guide [help] us in our lives. I know this because even as I've strayed I'm still here, and upon learning more about things that have happened in my life I've realized that he's always been looking out for me, regardless of what I do.

Skipping ahead, here's what the Catechism had to say about the Bible...

Q: What are the Holy Scriptures?

A: The Holy Scriptures, commonly called the Bible, are the books of the Old and New Testaments; other books, called the Apocrypha, are often included in the Bible.

Q: Why do we call the Holy Scriptures the Word of God?

A: We call them the Word of God because God inspired their human authors and because God still speaks to us through the Bible.

I think one area where many people get confused is when they think that God himself wrote the Bible. Here, that is clearly not the case. Of course the Bible couldn't have been written without God's inspiration (also called the inspiration of the Holy Spirit in another question); otherwise it is merely another book written long ago. However, as it was written down by human hands we still must take into account the language and individual interpretation. This is especially important when dealing with various social issues, specifically considering issues where the scripture appears to support or ban a social act, but either doesn't explain its reasoning or does so in a vague manner.

Q: What is the Church?

A: The Church is the community of the New Covenant.

Q: How is the Church described in the Bible?

A: The Church is described as the Body of which Jesus Christ is the Head and of which all baptized persons are members.

I think as a kid I thought the church was the building itself. Actually I think most people do. When I read this it again confirmed for me that one needs to be part of a community in order to successfully live and spread the Word of God. The Left Hand of God by Michael Lerner, a book I started last summer and still haven't finished, bemoans the selfishness that drives the business of the world, and clamors for a need of reliance on each other--a community--through which we could live out God's vision for all of humankind. It's kind of funny when you think of how things operate, and how many of these things have many, many parts. Whether it's something complicated like a car or a human body, or simple like an atom or molecule, each section of this being or object needs to do its part. Even Jesus talked about the importance of the unity of the body (in metaphors of course) and explained that each section needed to do its part in order for the body to function properly. It's amazing that these things work so well because of its unity. It's just downright sad that it's nearly impossible for human society to do the same, because it makes complete sense.

I thought this little question was interesting:

Q: Why is the Church described as catholic?

A: The Church is catholic, because it proclaims the whole Faith to all people, to the end of time.

I'm kind of curious to see what the writers meant by "catholic". It's curiouser to note that the word was spelled with a lower-case "c", which has to mean something a little different than the definition that we generally know.

Q: Who are the ministers of the Church?

A: The ministers of the Church are lay persons, bishops, priests, and deacons.<br /><br />

Q: What is the ministry of the laity?

A: The ministry of lay persons is to represent Christ and his Church; to bear witness to him wherever they may be; and, according to the gifts given them, to carry on Christ's work of reconciliation in the world; and to take their place in the life, worship, and governance of the Church.

I'm not going to post the ministry of the other three positions, as most people I know aren't bishops, priests or deacons (or pastors). But I wanted to post the ministry of the laity because that's what I am (right now, anyway), and it more or less covers what I think I'm called to do. One bit of language that concerns me is the phrase "take their place," which on the surface suggest that they need to be put low so they can't rise too high, but in a larger frame concerns the issue of corruption across the many denominations of the Church. Reading this answer and focusing on the spirit of the word, it suggests that everyone has a certain range of tasks in their calling and no one goes further (higher or lower) than their necessary tasks. It is necessary, per se, that the bishop holds a certain amount of power. If he/she takes too much, it is viewed as corruption; if he/she takes too little, it is viewed as hesitation and weakness. Unfortunately, as most people are wont to do, they go after what they want instead of trying to figure out what God has planned for them. I know, because I'm guilty of it, and I've seen what happens to the Church (i.e. community) when persons in power corrupt their position by running things their way.

Q: What is prayer?

A: Prayer is responding to God, by thought and by deeds, with or without words.

[Note: the following question asked about Christian prayer, which is pretty much the same thing but apparently stresses God in his Trinitarian form.]

Q: What are the principal kinds of prayer?

A: The principal kinds of prayer are adoration, praise, thanksgiving, penitence, oblation, intercession, and petition.

Prayer has been a big part of my faith, possibly the biggest aspect of how I've been growing. Through my ups and downs in life I've been able to cover all the different kinds of prayers save for one. I'd never really understood oblation, or what it meant, but as I read on I gained a bit more knowledge on the subject:

Q: What is prayer of oblation?

A: Oblation is an offering of ourselves, our lives and labors, in union with Christ, for the purposes of God.

Through this I began to understand that perhaps I needed to do more in offering myself to do God's work. Before, I kind of figured that I should just do something that I thought God would want me to do, and just do that. It's going to be kind of a struggle as I try to understand this, because in order to really offer myself (instead of just giving myself, maybe) I have to listen as best as I can to what God might have me do and jump on those opportunities as they present themselves.

Over the years, as I've gotten less afraid of death, one of the things that's helped is my shift of concern towards what can I do before I die that will help spread the ministry of God's church (so to speak)? It became less a worry of, when will death come; and more, how can I make sure that I've done everything I've needed? But part of what's helped with my shift in view on death (besides reading through the Weird Illinois book about restless spirits roaming about) is that I believe that part of me will still live on even after the body stops working (and I believe this is true for everyone as well). Since I'm trying to maintain a close relationship with God, that relationship will endure long after I leave. In this is the hope and excitement for eternal life, and it's why the last couple questions in the Catechism stick out to me.

Q: What do we mean by everlasting life?

A: By everlasting life, we mean a new existence, in which we are united with all the people of God, in the joy of fully knowing and loving God and each other.

Q: What, then, is our assurance as Christians?

A: Our assurance as Christians is that nothing, not even death, shall separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

The last response is pretty much my starting point for trying to get people to really understand what Christianity is supposed to be. Many of the different denominations cut-out crucial parts of the ministry and add-in non-Christian things, and through that many people have distorted views of what the kingdom of God is supposed to be. It is important to focus on the whole faith, not just bits and pieces of it. And when we start spreading Christianity, whole and pure, perhaps it will become easier to convince others (non-Christians) to follow and love God as we all should.

Dream for interpretation

I was in NYC with a bunch of "friends" late night going to a movie or show or something like it. Now the place we were going was in a part of the city I'd never been to, and thus I didn't know the geography of the neighborhood. I recall we'd gotten there by subway, therefore that's how we would return to the place we were staying.

While we're leaving the show walking to the subway station I somehow get into a brief altercation of sorts with someone or something and I bang my head in the process. It hurts a little, but I'm more bothered by the fact that the neighborhood scares me a bit and I just want to get back. By the time we enter the subway station, the group (probably 15 people) I'm  with has divided into two subgroups (made up of faster and slower walkers). While the first subgroup (which I'm in) is going through the turnstiles a train is coming. I try to get them to not go on so we can wait for the second subgroup, but they don't hear me and go on anyway. So I run to the train door and try to hold it. Unfortunately the door starts closing far too soon, and I get out and yell at the train operator to hold on and wait for the rest of our group to get here. Eventually they do, but they're in the midst of a decent-sized crowd of resident NY'ers who also want to get in the train, and as a result the rest of our group gets in the wrong car. I leave my train car and try to get into their car, but the doors start closing again. I yell at the train operator to open the doors again so I can re-enter the train. The doors open partially and close. Apparently the operator is lazy and thinks I will just jump in, while I'm waiting for them to open all the way so I can get in. My tentativeness leads the operator to close the doors for the final time, and the train, with everyone else from my group, leaves without me.

So I'm alone on a NY subway platform late at night in a part of the city that I'd never been to and don't know where the hell I am. What's worse, we had to change trains two or three times to get to the show, and I didn't really take note of where we did them. So I have no clue where I am or which trains I'm supposed to take to get home. So I start asking people what station I'm at so I can at least figure out on my own what to do. Unfortunately I don't really get much of a response from anyone. I give up and I jump on the next train and get off at the next station, which happens to be Fifth Avenue. So I finally know one street where I am, so I go around and try to ask what cross street I'm at. I figure if I knew that then I can figure out what line I have to take and where to change trains. I eventually find a couple (who happen to be bi-racial--I don't know why it matters but somehow it does). They're very helpful and friendly, but at a point I realize maybe they're being too friendly, kind of like gangsta-type people who treat everyone like they're their drug brothas or something. I recall the couple trying to take me somewhere, and when I see the black male reach for something, quite possibly a weapon, I break free of the woman's arm and run.

I wake up soon afterwards. I'm sad and angry. I'm sad that the train left without me, and I'm angry that my friends didn't make sure I got on the train with them after I made sure they all got on. I'm also angry at the train operator for not letting me on the train, apparently because he/she thought I was "causing trouble." (It is probably 1 or 2 AM, after all) What's really weird is that upon waking I didn't recognize any of the "friends" I was with. So I was basically hanging out with a bunch of people that I didn't know in real life but somehow knew in the dream. Either way, it wasn't exactly how I wanted to spend the evening.

So what does it mean? I have some ideas, but I'm not really interested in divulging much right now. Plus I'm getting tired and I need to go to sleep and prepare for my next dream. Maybe it will be better than the one from the previous night.

Waking up to time

Now that I've settled into my schedule for the term, I can say my sense of time is back. I recall the last two times I returned to Chicago for breaks the prevailing theme was the lack of the sense of the present time actually being what it was. I'd said how quickly the months were moving during second semester (February-May), but at the same time I was realizing how fast the entire school year (dating from last September) had gone. I still remember the end of last summer and the beginning of junior year really vividly, and trying to chronicle everything of note to me made those past events appear closer than what they actually were. So, strange as it sounds, the things I did at home at the end of last summer are pretty equal in my memory as, say, the things that happened only two months ago, thus throwing my balance of time off whack.

It feels like June. This thought greatly contrasts my disbelief when I arrived Chicago at the end of junior year that it shouldn't be late May. I've following the NBA Finals, baseball, and playing frisbee/disc golf. It feels like summer. After counterpoint a bunch of us tossed a frisbee around and played a little Ultimate for about five minutes in the warm and humid weather before we got tired. So I'm sitting, typing this, and I realize I should probably turn on a fan or two. I feel like time is right where it should be. For now, anyway. [However, I still cannot believe I'm a senior already!]

On a final note, I just looked on my iTunes playlist and realized I spent over eight hours listening to music back on Friday. I guess kinking your back will do that to you. (PS, it's greatly improved; thanks for your prayers!)

A study in story

He sits in the room, pondering the road in front of him, reflecting on the stretch of road he'd just passed, and oddly feeling off-kilter. Maybe it was in the concert the previous evening, where Maurice Ravel's Bolero kept winding and repeating the melody over and over again, bouncing between instruments and continually kept crescendoing until he was at the edge of his seat and couldn't take any more (until the key change, anyway). Maybe it was the appreciation of his senior friends who happened to be solo figures throughout the concert (it was Senior Solo Night after all). Maybe it was the after-concert party in town with various musician friends, or perhaps that pizza at 1:30 AM. Maybe it was realization of the shift from sports and games as his favorite social pastime to concerts (he had been to a lot over the past few months).

What kind of road is it? No matter, it is always in uncharted territory, much like the roads in west Texas that lead you further west than you'd ever been before. And yet through this unfamiliarity, it suddenly seems more familiar than any road 100-200 miles back. In a time when alarm clocks and suits rule the world, he has a choice. He can ponder the life of yesteryear, when T-shirts, sweatpants and ballcaps were in style, as well as ignoring alarm clocks till the cows come home. He ponders his friends and acquaintances, and feels in greater control in terms of whom to re-acquaint and whom not to re-acquaint.

Interstates are the best kinds of roads. Especially in the middle of nowhere, where there's like an exit ramp every 10-15 miles. You don't have to worry about oncoming traffic, and chances are traffic is light (this would include those authority turnaround lanes as well). Which means you can hit the gas pedal without too much worry. There is a picture of an 80-mph sign on the door. It can remind of good times; it can also remind of dreams. It can remind of space, where there is too often a lack thereof.

But the journey can be hypnotizing, just like Ravel's Bolero, in which the melody cycles around for 9 1/2 turns. You know the feeling when you're heading west at sunset. You want to block the sun out, but at the same time its orange glow induces you to follow it, to try to keep up.

At some point you realize it's hopeless. The sun moves too fast; it is soon beyond the horizon. And at night the interstate speed limit in west Texas is 65 mph, just like the rest of the state.

He's come to a possible conclusion for his wandering: he's gotten away from the Lord perhaps. After all, a week chock full of work will do that. Without reassurance from God himself it is hard to willfully trust one's own life. It leads to the whole questioning process. What the hell is this road? It's probably nameless. Most roads are, especially once you get away from the cities.

I feel like I'm on a road trip as well. Right now, even though I'm clearly inside a building of some sort, typing this on a desktop computer that would be very cumbersome to manage while in a moving vehicle. I feel like I'm waiting for something as well. This is the first time in many years that I've felt like I needed to return to Chicago. Yes, I've been sick of the whole region for the last few years, but at the same time I feel a bit drawn to it again. Perhaps it's the end of the semester (May 21). But perhaps it is a date years down the line. After all, May 21 can signal an end or a beginning. And it feels like a beginning, both fortunate and unfortunate.

And you give me rest

I bought another CD back on Friday night at the Relay for Life rally. I missed most of the event but came for the last hour or so, and the last band to play was Away with the Stone. My friend Adam is the lead singer (and writes most of the songs), but I'd never seen them perform due to various conflicts. So I finally got to hear them this weekend, and I gotta say I enjoyed hearing their music. And it was just in time, as I talked to Adam afterward and found out it was their last performance together, as they're beginning to adhere to different life callings (one guy is moving to Montana).

I've been listening to one song in particular, and while I don't currently feel this way, it's been kind of an outline as to realizing my own human nature and understanding what I can do to make something good out of it. I have at times felt frustrated with myself over a myriad of challenges. But recently when I feel like I've hit my lows, instead of fretting for an extensive period of time and being plain miserable about it, I've turned to my faith and to God. Maybe this particular instinct is one of many reasons I've thought about having theology for a career, but it just plain feels good to have something to turn to so I can move on in life. This one song that I've been listening to underscores this sentiment really well (lyrics below).

I need a jumpstart

I need an intervention

Not something temporary

But something tried and true

My soul cries out to you

Free me from my selfishness

And when my soul cries out to you

You come and You give me rest

Why do I think that I will always somehow find the answer?

Why do I think that I can do it on my own?

Why do I think that I will always pull it together

When all I end up is frustrated and alone?

--"Soul Cries Out" by Adam Pearce and Away with the Stone

It's been a kind of satisfying weekend. Aside from the thunderstorm that hit about mid-afternoon that forced the Lutefest events to move indoors, and the fact that my sleep deprivation over the past week forced me into a three-hour nap yesterday afternoon, I've been able to have fun and appreciate the people around me. Aside from my many senior friends graduating and a couple others transferring, I realized how grateful I've been to catch up with some people I haven't really talked to in a long time--as in a couple years--and realize what it's like to have them in my life again, even if briefly.

I'm just gonna hit the "reboot" button here...

Anyway, one woulda thought that with my week off at home in Chicago I would finally take time to write a few deep philosophical posts, especially since there has been a sizable gap of dates without posts over the last couple years at about this time. It's been kind of a slow and challenging week, aside from the news of Maggie's passing and realizing the current separation from most of my friends. I've been cleaning out my room and putting clumsy objects into boxes, all the while trying to get some composition stuff copied onto Finale and looking ahead to filing for taxes and Financial Aid. It's been a dull week, but it's not like I can completely put my busy life on hold so I can pig out. Plus I've been laying low largely because I've been contemplating life (I'm always doing that, but this time I'm not so occupied with daily tasks).

Ironically enough, before I arrived and found out about Maggie last Saturday, I had been in deep thought about the concept of mortality. I have this personal tradition of saying the Lord's Prayer (Rite I, of course) silently while the plane is gunning down the runway. I always try to time it so that right after I say "Amen" the plane lifts off the ground--usually I go through the prayer really quickly and there's another 10-15 seconds before the takeoff.

Over the previous week or so when I've had mini breaks in my schedule I've been really trying to figure out how fragile we really are. As a kid I had a fear of death, because I wasn't sure what would happen after. All of us have seen it happen to someone in one way or another, whether it's on TV or the real thing. And from what we observe, the "victim" is breathing, looking, and talking (although barely) one minute, and then he/she suddenly stops, presumably finished from doing anything that we are privileged to do in our lifetimes. I was afraid, having understood the observer's point of view, that if any of us happened to have it occur to us individually we would just stop being able to think, perceive and understand. I have absolutely no recollection of life before I was born, not even in a place far away from earth. I recall fearing that I would forget everything and not be able to see or do anything new.

I think faith has something to do with overriding this fear. I've been cleaning out papers from my room, and I'd forgotten that I was actually quasi-involved with spiritual groups before FCA during first year. Over the last couple years I've grown in my faith, but as I look at it throughout my entire life I can't physically remember what kind of faith I had before. I must've had some of it, because I recall writing in one of my college application essays (I was describing one of the compositions I was sending in) something about Jesus rising from the dead to free us from bondage of sin. I think it was one of a few things I actually believed (aside from the fact that I originally believed in Jesus because his coming, going and returning was responsible for the current Gregorian calendar that measures our time so). I also recalled that I sort of tried to get involved with some church/music competition where I had to send in an application with a rendition of "Amazing Grace." Anyway, the point of this paragraph is that contrary to what I may have thought of my earlier past self over the last two-plus years, I always had faith; I just never really realized it.

Getting back to mortality, I wasn't sure of its purpose in life. I kind of still am not. Basically what I realized was that it's merely a fabric of life and that it's nothing to worry about--all this while I'm on a plane on a day when turbulence came in droves. I also was wrestling with why we--humans, animals, plants, etc--have to go through this mortal life if God is waiting on the other side to either welcome or judge us (or both). If our hearts are good and our actions show it, then life will pretty much be a breeze. And, knowing that God himself is all about goodness and those that reflect it, there is always the question of the people that don't fall under these categories. Why, then, do they exist? I like to think that they merely have a much harder road to travel, or less likely, that they act as our tests or temptors. But then, if God already knows what we're going to choose in those situations, why have a mortal life at all? It's almost as if it's a test run. I know, I'm already questioning his plan again. And honestly, everything ["http://n8daoggblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/just-gotta-say-it-sometimes.html"] I've pondered about life and mortality (especially lately) is a bit too big for me to grasp in my entire lifetime, let alone a small fraction of it (i.e. hours or days).

After I was hit with news of Maggie's passing and had a day or so to let it sink in, I was once again griping about mortality and why we have it (specifically saying that it sucks, since I'd just lost a family member who'd lived at home for the last 15 1/2 years). Even though I miss that cat and having her around, what I struggled with more was understanding if she knew Mom and I loved her, even though I sometimes felt like we put up with her more. I recall one time I accidentally irritated her and she hissed at me. I reacted and yelled back, and Mom told me to calm down because Maggie couldn't understand what I was trying to do (that dang cat-brain). That cat was relatively intelligent and had good wits about her. But after that moment I realized that there were some things that she would never know. And while I was reflecting over the first few days of break, I was praying that she was (finally) able to understand that we loved her, even though there was no way for us to really communicate it. That in itself tore me up more than her death did. Going back to my earlier suggestion that life and mortality is merely a test run of a set of physical forms and concepts, I honestly don't know. I could probably do all sorts of scientific experiments on the subject (both physical science and philosophical studies) and I would probably end up without much of a conclusion. I think life is arbitrary. Maybe it's mean (the Watterson Calvin quote comes to mind) but it's really just random. I think mortality can be reduced to an abstract series of lifetimes of different matter, but what gives it all meaning is the love that we share with each other. If I had never loved Maggie or my late grandparents or anyone else that I knew (or received it in return), it wouldn't be so painful when their respective lifetimes reached the end. At the end of the day, it's what connections we make with each other that gives meaning to an otherwise bland sequence of events that make up life.

What exactly are the "heebie-jeebies" anyway?

The picture says it all

Maggie (b. March 1991, d. March 12, 2007, approx. 16 years)

Resident cat in my household (July 1991-March 2007)

I found out today that the cat I've known for the last 15 1/2 years was put down a couple weeks ago. It hit me hard, and it still kind of does. Over the last week I had a sense that she may have passed, but I refused to accept it as a possibility until someone else were to tell me. I've known Maggie since I was six years old. In spite of being away at school for a couple large junctures, I got to see her grow from a toddling, rowdy kitten to a sassy cat (even in her old age). I used to be absolutely scared of her when I was younger, but grew to appreciate and love her, even though I never allowed myself the chance to pick her up and cuddle her. But those days are gone now. And it's probably for the better. She suffered seizures the day she was put down. There was no way to let her suffer like that. I like to think that God has a place for her somewhere, much like several others I know (both pets and people) that have passed over the years.

The veterinary hospital in downtown Evanston has her ashes. We'll probably pick them up at some point. In the meantime there are boxes and furniture that need to be packed. Plus other stuff that I need to occupy my mind and my time with.

RIP Mags, I will never forget you. I hope you don't forget me.

God's Joy above all others

Last night was probably the third time in my life in college (and quite possibly in my whole life) that I felt the joy that God promises, which is above any other kind of joy that I could possibly imagine. Earlier this week I wrote a rant note on facebook more or less combining my political and religious views and asking what the heck Christianity was supposed to be (it was only supposed to be a brief explanation of who I felt I was). Truth be told, there was quite a bit of anger and frustration in it, and I tagged a few friends that I trusted the most with this kind of deep thought. Yesterday over lunch I met with my two religio-spiritual friends Glen and Nick and we engaged a little bit over it, with me trying to make the most of my first opportunity to defend what I wrote and further press what I was arguing. It was kind of a stressful week, not just because of the note but because of several mini-projects I had due, and even though things weren't just killing me I could still tell that I was being weighed down by them.

So last night I went to Bible Study, and for most of it I was just struggling to hear and discern the messages of the night. Dave-O, the leader of the session, gave his speech on the Gospels. But it also involved a couple group discussions and tossing ideas onto a whiteboard--what is the Gospel? what do they say Jesus is? what do we say He is?--and together discerning the truth about who Jesus was. I had read the Gospels relatively recently (like in January), so this was kind of up my alley. However, I was still having a hard time just getting my heart into it, because I found myself preoccupied with all this technical analysis of how different people with different politcal sides treat Christianity and all that jazz (which was part of what my Facebook note was about).

However, things started to turn when Dave-O mentioned a passage from Acts, saying that we shouldn't be overoccupied or worried about relationships with other people (family, friends, what-have-you) if we treat our relationship with God as any less important. I wrote another blog entry covering this realization, and last night was a simple revisiting of it. After Dave-O finished his blurb and Nick started his, something strange happened. Nick started explaining midway through his speech about why we have God's laws in our lives. We have to be perfect to successfully follow God, but since in our own nature we can't be perfect, the only way it can happen is if we give up and let God enter and carry us on His own strength. At that moment I looked at the sources of my frustrations and somehow realized that if I stopped struggling they will all go away, and they did. Suddenly I felt euphoric, as if somehow I just stopped trying to do anything on cue and let God enter (which is probably what happened), and suddenly all my worries went away. I had tried to explain to Nick earlier about why I wrote what I did, but when I talked to him after his blurb, I told him technically he didn't answer my question, but in actuality he did because through his speech everything that I ever needed to know about God and Christianity was made clear. I thanked him for giving me that.

All political, religious, and social aspects of which I was tense just floated away and felt a happiness higher than I could have imagined than if any singular thing I wanted was fulfilled. So since last night I've been high on life for the most part. But probably more importantly, I got my questions about myself and Christianity answered. [Thanks God.]

Judgments of attitude

Last night I saw the movie "Babel," and it was one of those that you had to sit through the whole thing in order to understand what it was all about. For about the first 75% percent of the movie I mostly saw four separate stories (which I figured had to tie-in together by the end) from three different parts of the world. As I was discovering the process of putting the stuff together I realized how it really underscored problems with American perceptions of this time (specifically this decade under the Duuh-ble-U Bush administration).

The first story highlighted a Muslim family in Morocco, and how the two sons were testing out a recently-purchased rifle's shooting distance on a passing bus. I'm guessing they both thought they missed it.

The second story was about a couple young American children who were baby-sat by a foreign guardian of sorts (turns out she was Mexican but I didn't realize that right away). They had gone to a wedding in Mexico (with another guy driving them), and had a little run-in with the border police on the way back that prompted him to strand the woman and children in the desert. This whole episode challenged the whole illegal immigration and deportation issue.

The third story highlighted an American couple on a journey through Morocco on a tour bus. The wife got hit in the neck from a bullet, and the whole search for a potential terrorist was on, thus challenging the whole American vs. Muslim nation relation issues.

The fourth story took me the longest to understand. I was able to connect the first three pretty quickly, but the fourth was set in an Asian country (I later learned it was Japan) where a deaf-mute girl had suffered from her mother's suicide. Even ten (?) years later she was still suffering, and she acted out in several different scenes trying to get attention. Apparently her father had recently sold a rifle to a Moroccan merchant, but I didn't really "get" that until about 4/5 through the movie.

Terrorism and immigration have been two problems that the US government has been trying to "fix" but without any success. I think the greater importance is to understand when and how to judge. I can understand the impulse to prevent an excess of immigration from Mexico (which is undeniably a huge problem), but it's too harsh to send back those who have become legal citizens. It is also understandable to search extensively for anyone who would try to harm tourists in North Africa and the Middle East but at some point we have to realize that sometimes these incidents were purely accidents, and it is not worth it to make an otherwise innocent person undergo torture for some mistake.

"He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly." Luke 1:52

I think Mary's song was also meant for those powerful and lowly in attitude as well as position.

Logic and Reason

This week in Electronic Music we've been learning how to play with the program "Reason." It's pretty cool (although hard until you understand how to work with it). Most of my homework assignments have been to create a sound (first using additive synthesis, then using subtractive synthesis, and now using a combination of filters, sound envelopes and modulators to create even more complex sounds. My project for next Monday is to create a piece based on the sounds that I create this week, and if I'm not mistaken I will have to take the sounds I created on "Reason" and create a song on "Logic." Crazy, but kinda fun.

Jesus would be appalled at mainstream American "Christianity"

I sat down and read the Bible for the first time in my life tonight. After FCA (during which I was inspired to read the Gospel of John while the speaker was talking) I grabbed the Good Book and steamrolled my way through the first nine chapters (I still have twelve to go), and was expectedly amazed at some of the stuff Jesus said.

"You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that testify on my behalf. Yet you refuse to come to me to have life." (John 5:39-40)

"How can you believe when you accept glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the one who alone is God?" (John 5:44)

"If you were Abraham's children, you would be doing what Abraham did, but now you are trying to kill me, a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God. This is not what Abraham did." (Jesus, in response to the unbelieving Jews contesting that Abraham was their father--John 8:39-40)

"If God were your Father, you would love me ... I did not come on my own, but he sent me." (Jesus, in response to the same Jews flip-flopping and saying that God was their father--John 8:42)

...and so forth. In another instance the Pharisees challenge Him by bringing forth a woman who had clearly committed adultery and asked him to judge her. Instead of saying anything, He writes in the ground, clearly using a tactic to ignore and distract them from trying to trap him. He says, "Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her." (John 8: 7) He promptly resumes writing in the dirt, after which they leave. Then, when Jesus is alone with the woman, He forgives her. That's powerful. He could have forgiven her in front of the Pharisees, but as "it is not his time yet" (quoted several times in the first nine chapters of John) he would have been arrested and killed. Jesus was smart. Instead of "man"-ing up to them (which apparently any mainstream Christian who would put himself on a pedestal would do--Pat Robertson reportedly boasted he could legpress some 1,000 pounds during the Sunday morning service!) Jesus ignores them. He know what the right thing to do in this situation. He just chooses to do it out of the spotlight. That is brilliant.

Clearly I haven't gotten to the good parts of the Gospel yet--Jesus will give His body and blood as everlasting food at the Last Supper, wash His disciples' feet, and die on a cross so to save all of mankind, past, present and future. Aside from these things, one of the lesser things that amazes me most is after He performed a miracle to make enough food to feed 5,000 people, he goes into seclusion so the believers couldn't crown him King (John 6:15). It's kind of funny how when I go to Selah, FCA and TNBS, they always sing and talk about Jesus the King. In terms of putting Him in a position relative to the rest of us it is an OK thing to do, but given that Jesus didn't want to be an earthly king of a community or a nation I have a problem with other people in today's world trying to do just that. Throughout the US churches (and tele-churches) are proclaiming Jesus as King of America, and their preachers preach the dominating masculine Christian American example that make the world "right" (I use quotes because the word itself has been tainted by the anti-Left).

Ben Folds' "Jesusland" takes note of the commerically-driven Christianity that has pervaded much of America. In an article written by Adam Smith, Folds explains the satire in his song: "It does no good for the teachings of a great man to put it across billboards and political campaigns. If that's your first exposure to [Him], it's a negative exposure. Just using the name Jesus implies for some weird reason that we are talking about politics. Last I remembered those were two separate issues. There's politics and there's religion, and to some extent they have to live in each other's backyards, but I think everyone agrees that the two are overly linked at this point. They're uncomfortably linked."

[Speaking of links, here's the one for the article that I got the quote from. Note: since it's a page from an online message board it may not appear one the page at some point, so please use the link while it's still good... and remember to scroll down until you reach it] http://www.thesuburbs.org.uk/Board/index.php?topic=3969.0 ["http://www.thesuburbs.org.uk/Board/index.php?topic=3969.0"]

Folds goes on about what he wanted to convey from "Jesusland," and as I had mentioned in an earlier post, it is ironic in that he depicts the Jesusland of American consumerism, which is exactly what Jesus doesn't want us to do! He is known to have told several people to give up their possessions and follow Him. He clearly can't stand the Pharisees because they think they are living the pious life and leading all humanity by example as to how to live, and they clearly put themselves up on a pedestal in the process. In this case, humility clearly goes out the window, and it's the same case with the Religious Right. They live by the letter of the law (the Law should be whatever's in the Bible, literally) and for their own self-interests, and THIS is how they tell people to live. Something like: "Put your trust in the Bible and everything that is good for American consumption and commercialism. And killing Muslims is a bonus." (OK, I made that last part up) But one thing I would convey to all who live literally by the Bible and want to force it on everyone is to read John 5:39-40 (actual words by Jesus). Since Jesus says that what He tells people is more important that what other people say, His words should be the focus, rather than, say, what Paul thinks someone else thinks Jesus said, or what an angel might have said once in Revelation.

Anyway, I'm aware this post is turning into a rant and a sermon into one, but in a way I'm getting "fired up for Jesus" just like everyone else in mainstream American Christianity. Getting down to it, I see our Messiah as both fully human and fully God. But, when I pray I don't say "Dear God and Jesus," I just say "Dear God," automatically including Jesus into the introduction because He is God. He wants to be opened to everyone's hearts, and not only American hearts, but everyone in the world. He wants us all to believe in Him, and believe that He was born and died on the cross to save us from sin. That's the only thing we really need to take away from it. Everything else is anyone's business, and we should learn to accept it. We all really believe in God; it's just how we believe in Him that bothers a lot of people, and it shouldn't.

Back to reading the rest of the Gospel of John.