A creative moment, shared with friends

Midnight After the Reception
By Sean Taylor

You take the treasures of a queen
And lay them at the feet of a whore,
Ignoring the heavily perfumed skin,
The sultry scent of sex,
The eyes smear-streaked with tears,
Blue and black and trailing eye shadow
And mascara in riverlets across her cheeks.

The room filled with latenight guests and comforters
Gazes, a swarm of eyes clumped thick with disbelief
As she throws herself in desperate apology.
"Surely he must refuse her,"
They say, "She isn’t worthy of him,"
As you fill your arms again
And heap gold baubles on the floor beside her.

They know of her wandering, stared wide-eyed
As she said "I do," then left the celebration
On the arm of a stranger.
They did not see the act, but they know her
Well enough. The guilt adorns her
As tightly as her disheveled dress,
And they pray thanks that they are more deserving.

You fasten the diamonds around her wrist,
Holding the hand that you know has not
Yet stopped holding that of others,
And brush your lips against
The swollen and bruised red-blue
That has kissed other lovers, unmentionable,
Feeling the sting of their hate in the joining.

You slip the ring onto her finger,
Claiming her again as your own bride,
Knowing that just hours ago,
She felt another man’s passion,
Allowed another man’s grunting and groping
To make her his bride for that moment,
And she gazes at the ring with wet eyes, blank, black, lifeless.

Only barely wooed, halfway resigned to life
As your only partner, the other half
Still dreaming of the rough, shadowed lust
Of the lovers she still plans
To meet, conjoin, hate in the days to come,
Her wrists sag heavily under the weight of your gold,
And she tells you in an unwanting lie: "I love you."

The partygoers watch as you lift her face,
Begging you to turn her away, mocking
Her atrocities, warning you about how it must
Look to the neighbors.
But you kiss her, ignoring their foolishness,
And tell her quietly, "I have no neighbors,
There is only you and me and my love for you."

© 2004

And, for the record, the church is often personified as "she" and as "the bride of Christ," and that's why I chose the gender in the poem. I have no interest in promoting the stupidity that somehow tries to castigate women as whores or blame all the troubles of society on them thanks the the vilifying of Eve, though I know that Christendom has been guilty of that before.

From the Desk of Saint Annie Dillard

Annie Dillard writes, "Does anyone have the foggiest idea of what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies' straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews."

Have I mentioned that I'm a big fan of Annie Dillard's essays? She usually writes more about nature as symbols for life and living, but every now and then a sort of faith-ific kernal slides through so we fundies don't completely dismiss her as a liberal, cigarette-smoking heretic. *grins* (Yes, I'm kidding. Most fundies still dismiss her as a liberal, cigarette-smoking heretic.)

From this article.

Reposted from a years-ago Live Journal post (but I thought it would be fun to repost here too)

"It is error alone which needs the support of government. Truth can stand by itself." -Thomas Jefferson This one reminds me of something I almost got "in trouble" for from some fellow fundies (I say fellow, because, remember, I don't just play on on LJ, I really am one, remember, in spite of my non-traditional fundy beliefs when it comes to living out that fundy faith) a while back. With all the "God and country" and "Christian nation" talk going around for the past few years, I asked some people I knew if they thought democracy was any more "godly" than other political systems. They all seemed to think it was. To which I responded, "Okay, but we don't have a democracy, never have. We have a republic. We don't want to be responsible for our own decisions. We just want to elect other people to make them for us. How godly is that system?" They seemed to think it was far more "right" or "holy" or "good" than any of the other systems -- you know, the "bad" ones like dictatorship, communism, socialism, etc. So, being a real smartass, I pressed the point. "Which political system do you think God supports?" I asked. They thought and looked around, and they figured it had to be one of the good ol' American, Christian nation systems. So I closed in like a cliched hawk. "Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but the only system God seems to favor [at least in Christian scripture] is something I guess I'd have to call a theocracy, or government by God alone, Who chooses leaders for temporary work when needs arise. He only allowed even a monarchy to show people how much they were asking for their own doom when they wanted a king 'like all the other cool nations have.' So, if we really wanted to be this 'Christian nation' we talk about, shouldn't we use our Fundy political power to do away with the 3 bodies and 2 party system and abolish self-government all together?" They all looked at me funny. At this point, I could almost hear the wheels turning in their heads, thinking "But then who'd get prayer back in school and keep the 10 Commandments on public property, not to mention keep people from pissing on crucifixes, having sex with their own gender, and using the word "ass" on 8:00 PM TV shows? "And here I thought we were all biblical literalists," I added for fun.

Giving preaching back to the poets...

Read this article last night and think I may have found another kindred spirit -- at least in part. Here are some excerpts: When Jesus becomes kind of an esoteric spiritual figure and not a real dude in a real place at a real time, the really subversive economic and political things he's saying get lost in an effort to proclaim him as Son of God, which we do. But he's also a Jewish rabbi who lived in a Jewish way in a Jewish time, and we have lot of information about what that world was like. ... I want to rescue preaching. I believe it's an art form and I want to rescue it back from the scientists and the analysts. I want to see the poets and the prophets and the artists grab the microphone and say great things about God and the revolution. I think a whole art form has been lost that needs to be recaptured, a grand ambition for the art of preaching. ... A lot of Christian preaching isn't really seriously about story. I don't want to conquer mystery. I want to celebrate it. ... The true orthodox faith is deeply mysterious, and every question that's answered leads to a new set of questions. A lot of preaching tries to answer everything. At the end of the sermon, people walk out with no more questions. ... Some Christian traditions think a text has a meaning and if you apply the right method, then you can pull out the correct meaning. That's the ultimate in arrogance. ... I preached that sermon one time at Willow Creek and the goat pooped right on the stage. A great moment in that fine church's history. Taken from this article located right here if you click this little underlined link thing.

Pond Scum (come join the club)

"In addition to holding down a newspaper job, I was teaching a Reporting 1 class at the University of Oregon when I encountered the most irascible student I've ever taught. She questioned nearly every grade I gave her. She claimed I was not doing enough to help her succeed. She berated me in front of the class. Enough was enough. I asked her to please stay after class. "You don't seem to like me," I said. "Can I ask why?" "Because you're part of the liberal media," she said. "You've got the rest of the class conned, but not me." "And why's that?" I asked, puzzled by what I was hearing. "Because I'm a Christian," she said smugly. To which I wanted to say: "Uh, let's just keep that our little secret." In that instant, I knew what it was like for non-believers to encounter Christianity at its ugliest. I knew what it was like to be "The Enemy." In fact, I've been a Christian for more than 30 years, am an elder in my non-denominational church, and have written four books and dozens of magazine articles with Christian themes." Sad, isn't it? But I've known far too many Christians like this. I've BEEN like this, I'm ashamed to admit. In at least two ways: 1. If other people who are indeed also Christians don't fit our mold of what a Christian is or does or has the type of acceptable Christian job (plumbing or management, but not working for the wine industry or "liberal press"), then we automatically assume they just can't be Christians, can they? 2. It's easier to attack people as groups (ie, "liberal media" and "pro choicers" and "those gays") than it is to get to know and love people as individuals, even individuals with dramatically different choices and beliefs. (I'll add that this one goes both ways, of course -- it's equally easy to attack dismiss people as "those wacko fundamentalists" rather than getting to know individuals.) From my vantage point as a journalist, I'd say a large reason non-believers view Christians negatively is simple: Christians often behave negatively. Nothing to add here. So true. A news aide at our paper says the most difficult people to deal with are church secretaries. Ha. No offense to any church secretaries out there, but I can attest to this. I used to have to call them all the time in order to reach my contacts back when I was working at NAMB. Some of the rudest people I've ever talked to -- EVER -- have been church secretaries (but there I go, catagorizing and not learning my own lessons... Sigh). A youth league basketball coach I coached against was a buzzer-to-buzzer screamer and pouter. After one game, I asked someone what the guy did for a living. "Oh, he's a pastor." A high-ranking official from a Christian institute our newspaper had featured called and, for ten minutes, berated me for the story, which I had edited. I mentioned that a man who works at the same institute-let's call him Greg-attended my church and had really liked the story. "So you, uh, go to the same church as Greg, huh?" the official said, obviously surprised. "Yes I do." "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realize you were 'one of us.'" It was fine and dandy for him to treat me like pond scum when assuming I wasn't a believer; but when he realized I was, he pushed full throttle on the charm-thrusters. And what of my student? Would she have treated me so cruelly had she known I, too, was a member of "The Club"? (emphasis added) From a fellow member of pond scum, here, here. That's how Christians will lose their negative reputations: by seeing non-believers as Christ sees them, not as "The Enemy" or people unfit for "The Club," but people like us. People who need a pat on the back, salt to season life's staleness, and light to see through the darkness. from http://www.christianitytoday.com/tc/2004/003/10.47.html

Bucking the system? Bagging the institution? Could be.

In this dichotomy you have the essence of our religion — Catholic, Protestant, or otherwise — in a nutshell: the "clergy" are paid to give and the "laymen" pay in order to receive. from http://www.christiancounterculture.com/40615/clergy-laity.html For me, this has to be one of the most frustrating things about the church as I've always known it, this dividing people up into clergy (or even professional denominational workers) and laity (or "consumers"), and then expecting each to meet different models of "behavior" instead of realizing that they're all the same. As my pastor and I were talking the other day we both brought up the point that the church model we use today isn't based even loosely on the New Testament. It comes from Constantine. It comes not from a fellowship of like-minded believers hanging onto their faith in a time of persecution. It comes from the politically powerful, suddenly safe, no longer under siege, watchdogs of morality that became institutionalized. That's why I think Christianity is growing so quickly in other countries and is so insanely stale here in a so-called Christian nation. (Yeah, right, and besides, such an animal wouldn't work in a democracy or any other current form of human government.) Because it hasn't been turned into an institution. It's still just people. If you want to kill the spread of Christianity, give it power and structure and the authority to enforce something (morality), not just dispense something (grace). Okay, rant over. =========================================== Increasingly, "the church" is becoming marginalized. We're relegated to the fringes of our culture. We struggle to find a voice in the public square. We're rarely taken seriously. The vast majority of people in our society think the church is irrelevant. As pastors and church leaders, we feel displaced, lost, frustrated. Our ministries don't match the expectations we had when we started. We seem to have lost our sense of direction. Things that used to work don't anymore. Like the ancient Israelites wandering in the desert, we find ourselves in a time of transition..." As we grope our way into the future, we'll learn to come to grips with our marginalization. We'll embrace it and see it as an opportunity for the church to return to her ancient roots in order to reclaim God's original intent for the church... In order to gain a new perspective, you need to travel into the history of the church to see how the way we've learned to think about church is now out of touch with the reality of our changing world. As you see how the church developed into what it is today, you'll be able to understand why things aren't working the way we expect them to and what we can do about it. Very simply, the church began as a movement but ended up as an institution. And because the institutional church has lasted for some 1,500 years, we've grown overly familiar with this way of existing. It's ingrained in us. But this institutionalized way of church—what has been called Christendom—is deteriorating. Because of the way things are now in the context of history, the old institutional mold can't be rebuilt, and it would be unwise to attempt to rebuild it. Biblical Christianity will move on and thrive without it. In reality, much of the resources, time, and energy now spent by the church are an attempt to rebuild the crumbling ruins of Christendom. For example, we spin our wheels trying to get prayer back in public schools, or we try to keep the Ten Commandments posted in public places. Within the church, we define success in terms of attendance, budgets, programs, and buildings. We don't know what else to do or how else to measure success because we don't know any other way to operate. Christendom is all we know. But there is another way... We now have the opportunity, like the early disciples of Jesus, to live in the world like the resident aliens that we are and to demonstrate God's love in tangible ways to the people in our communities. We have the privilege to suffer and sacrifice like the early disciples in order to serve each other and the world. We have the chance to demonstrate love to our enemies, to humble ourselves before others, and to live in such a way that shows we care more for our treasure in heaven than our material possessions on earth. We have the opportunity to live our faith authentically before a watching world. However, because we're so familiar with the Christendom form of church, we sometimes don't have the capability to see ourselves as resident aliens in this world. It's questionable whether we want to adopt this mindset. We seem far more concerned about building systems of power and structures of per­manence on this earth. Much of what we do seems incompatible with the way of Jesus—the way of the Incarnation, the way of weakness and humility, the way of the Cross. We need a shift in our thinking, and we need to know that it's legitimate to make this shift. If we can recognize that the future we're headed to is similar to the early days of the church—before the church became an institution—then we can form our ministries according to those much older ways. And we don't need to feel threatened, because this much older way is our birthright—our ancient heritage. from http://www.christiancounterculture.com/40615/reclaimingthechurch.html

Go ye and do likewise?

I was somewhat worried how the event would be received by the general public—not so much because of the ideals embraced by the ONE initiative, but because of the event's deeply evangelical overtones. The emcee, for example, was Rev. Herbert Lusk, whose impassioned parlance and opening prayer were offered as if the event were a church service. Immediately following his prayer, Bread for the World president David Beckmann gave a short speech and prayed. I wondered if such blatant displays of faith would turn would deter a non-religious person from supporting the cause, fearing they might be endorsing a particular religious agenda in doing so. Funny how we tend to praise Bono as a Christian saint or lambast him as a psuedodevil when he defies our expectations of him depending on our moods, isn't it? On the other hand, I think that Bono is a great role model for Christians. He thinks for himself. He lives his faith authentically, not bowing to the institutionalized church but the church as a body of people with many shared and some not-so-shared beliefs. He puts "hands and feet" on his faith by caring for and doing something about people's needs, be they hunger or AIDS. When he's angry at how a "Christian" West treats the rest of the world , he yells "fuck" from the stage to make his concerns and righteous anger known. When he's worshipping, he sings "hallelujah" with equal gusto. Not a bad role model at all, if you ask me. from http://www.christianitytoday.com/music/news/2004/bono-0504.html

A reasonable faith

Phew. I'll have to address this in small bits. It's too much to cover in one response, I'm afraid. Basically, the pull you're feeling goes back (articulately, at least) to Kierkegard* (sp? too lazy to look it up today) who drove one of the final wedges between reason and faith with his ludicrous notion of the "leap of faith." His thoughts were that the spiritual could only be understood by the spirit, and the physical and rational could only be understood in terms on mind and senses. He really intended good, I think. But it's had a horrible effect on the lifestyle of faith, as Christians throughout history began to turn off their brains in effort to turn on their souls, I suppose you could say. We've sadly even rejoiced in the idea that we could be more spiritual by simple having a "blind faith" than the "reasonable faith" that is so lauded in the New Testament writings. We've unfortunately swallowed K-gard's axiom hook, line, and sinker. However, let me back up for a moment and say there will always be things that don't seem to reconcile... for the time being. Science may be exact science, but it's one based on adapting and proving theories and testing hypotheses to get to the truth. And then you have to take into account that philosophy and religion aren't exact sciences, and aren't written that way. A very wise person once explained to me that when my faith and my intelligence don't jibe exactly, it's either because I'm misinterpreting my faith to be something it's not intended to mean, do, or say OR that my intelligence hasn't learned all the facts yet. The rub is that I'm not in a position often to know which is the case. But that means something entirely different than turning off my mind. It means I go back and re-examine my faith and philosophy and set about to learn more about the world, science, history, and humanity. Ironically, prior to K-gard, the majority of the world operated under the idea the faith could be reasonable, and didn't compartmentalize the world into reason and faith, or sacred and profane. (Although I believe Augustine may have also talked in depth about this idea -- particularly in his City of God -- and been a major influence on K-gard.) I believe as you do that "Things have to be logical to me." In other words, I have to be able to reason with them in a way that doesn't ask me to turn off my brain. I don't believe that having faith asks me to do that. Not even the Christian faith (though NOT what usually what passes for it in many churches today). If something is true, and by that I mean intrinsically** true, then it's true for mind, body, and spirit. It can't just pick and choose one or the other. I think there's a reason that God (in Christian scripture) asks us to love him (her, it, take your pick -- God is spirit, after all, right?) with all our heart, soul, and mind. In other words, with all our emotions, spirit, and logic and reason. When we can't do that, we don't really have much of a faith at all, at least not in my opinion. But being reasonable doesn't always mean being 100 percent sure. Look back to science. We disproof theories and hypothesis with each new century. Or it's like when the courts ask you to decide beyond a reasonable doubt. It means that even though God himself doesn't drop you a signed email, they may be other evidences to weigh in favor of faith. Even the courts don't ask you to submit proof positive, just enough to set up the case beyond a reasonable doubt. But that's really neither here nor there. Faith is a personal matter. In many ways you either simply believe it or you don't. But I feel for you. I had a crisis very similar to this right before Lisa and I married, but I wouldn't trade anything for it now. Going through that crisis forced me to really decide what I believe and hammer it down with the evidences I mentioned in passing earlier. Before the crisis I merely believed, now I really believe, and some of those beliefs altered as they went through the experience. Hell, my beliefs about the church are changing even now as I study church history and the New Testament church in practice. Lewis' Mere Christianity is good start at approaching faith from a purely reasonable and logical manner. Another more recent book dealing with resolving the supposed conflict between reason and faith is Ravi Zacharias' Can Man Live Without God?. Granted, both are written from the vantage point of a Christian believer. Still, both are enjoyable reads, regardless of your belief system, I'd think -- if you favor such subject matter as reason and faith and logic and philosophy, that is. * NOTE: Arrrgh. Now that I think about it, I'm beginning to second guess myself. It may have been Hegel instead of K-gard. I'll have to look it up to be sure. ** NOTE: By "intrinsic," I mean stuff like the color blue. While the word "blue" may not be intrisically true, the nature of what we call "blue" is. Something intrinsic in its nature sets it apart from what we call "red" or "water." That's a distinction we seldom make in postmodernism -- or even in our post-postmodernism -- between our understanding of something and the something itself.

Another one falls victim to lowest common denominator thinking

Reference link: http://newsarama.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=14486 “ABS got nervous with the content and how it was being told,” Ruiz explained. “It's very easy for religious organizations and churches alike to criticize and complain about how society is running amok and is out of control. But when it comes time to put your money where your gripes are, indifference and non-commitment are the end result. ABS worried how they would be perceived in the religious community and what affect it would have on their donor base. When they saw what it would take to reach this market, and how it would ruffle the feathers of some in the religious community, it was better to play it safe and not serve the secular market and save face in their own community. They also felt that it would take too long to recoup their investment in the secular market, so a decision was made to go exclusively into the CBA [Christian Booksellers Association] market for a quicker turn around on their investment. “According to ABS management, it would be a safer course to steer in. (Emphasis mine) And I had such high hopes for Metron. Their books were gorgeous. Relevent. Entertaining. Not propagandizing. Not preaching. They were just great stories about power, love, kindness, violence, sex, and life -- just pulling from biblical source material. (I still hold that we Christians today would probably like to edit out all the sex and violence from scripture if we had our way... Sigh.) And we wonder why people outside our churches don't find our faith relevent. Perhaps because we more often than not choose the "safer course to steer in" rather than engaging the rest of the world on its own turf. On behalf of the small group of Christians who prefer not to hide in a subculture but rather to embrace the rest of the world genuinely and with gusto, I apologize again for the small-mindedness of many within my faith. This kind of thing just irks the crap out of me. That is exactly why I've chosen as a Christian NOT to write for the CBA market when I'm writing novels and short stories. Art = taking risks. Period. Propagandizing doesn't. Art touches people and invokes either positive or negative response. But usually involvement. Propaganda usually just tunes them out and pisses them off. By and large, the CBA market doesn't allow for risk. Not when there is an outspoken group within Christendom who watchdogs to ensure that nothing they consider "bad" gets "used" in their playground. I think that within my faith there are two predominant types of creators. The first writes from an evangelistic zeal and wields artistic means and methods and devices as tools -- mere tools, even. This type of writer sees the art (whether fiction, nonfiction, movies, music, etc.) as the means to an end. This is the category in which the Left Behind series, most of the so-called Christian music industry, painter Thomas Kinkaid, and their ilk are firmly entrenched, in my opinion. I tend to see this type is a preacher first and a Christian second, and an artist somewhere further down the line. The second type is often labeled as "an artist for art's sake," which isn't a completely true assessment, I feel. I feel he or she's an artist who approaches the craft the way most artists do, out of his or her life and worldview and ponderings, and puts all that to canvas or page or music somehow. Because this person believes in the faith of Christianity, that underlying "feeling" comes through in the themes they choose to address or approach. But their work tends to raise questions, not answer them. They tend to tell stories rather than use stories to provide a moral at the end. This is where writers like Annie Dillard and Madeleine L'Engle camp, along with musicians like Bono and POD, and Metron Press (to a large degree, anyway), I feel. It's also where I camp. Art is not a tool. Art is a form of expression that comes from someone who creates it. It's a mark of being created in the image of God, that we too long to create as well.

Another interesting article...

Not surprisingly, religion — Christianity and Judaism, in particular — fueled both the antislavery movement of the 19th century and the civil-rights movement of the 20th. The leaders of both movements didn't hesitate to quote Scripture to remind their listeners that what they stood for was morally grounded in the Bible, as well as in secular philosophy. Religion was not only a "purely personal" matter but also one of grave public import. That is as it should be. Religion, by nature, is a public thing, because it acknowledges a reality that is outside the private realm of the inner heart. Individuals' faith and religious experiences are private matters, but religion itself, whether it be Wicca, Buddhism or Roman Catholicism, is shared and communal. Those who would banish religion to the realm of the strictly private in effect contend that religion has no relevance to public life. This notion fatally trivializes religion by treating it as essentially meaningless. From: http://tothesource.org/8_4_2004/8_4_2004.htm I can't say I agree with everything in this article (particularly where it leaves out Christianity's role in helping usher Hitler's Nazism and atrocities in Germany, and it's apathy toward those suffering -- with a few notable exceptions, such as Dietrich Bonhoffer), but I think the writer does well to acknowledge the public nature of all religious beliefs, not just Christianity's, and in illustrating how religious and philosophical views do indeed determine public action and involvement. While I do believe that one's beliefs are a private matter, and should only be discussed in the "safety" of people we feel comfortable, I also believe that if those beliefs don't influence our choices and actions, then they're not genuinely beliefs as all. They're decorations at best, and most probably lies or delusions at worst. And yes, I do realize that inaction is indeed an action. Sometime the action our beliefs provoke is to do nothing about something, but it's an intentional nothing, not an apathetic nothing. Man, that's an awkward-sounding sentence...

Must have slept with a muse last night...

(Kudos to Gaiman fans who got the reference) More of the Same He loosens the tie clutching his neck, The extra pounds squeezed into rolls by the net of cheap silk. He hates this place, these people, The pettiness, the way they lock him Into their definitions-not his, never his. A shepherd? Ha! More a fool. And he secretly hates them more as he rises To the pulpit And preaches love. And the same… And the same… She glares at the toddler, His face and clothes strewn with the smudged Colors of strained carrots and peas. She sits, turns away, stares at the wall, Counts to ten backwards, but her anger grows. She would like nothing more -At this moment-than to add to the red streaks Across his legs, his back, his buttocks, But she only sits and wishes. And the same… And the same… He lies alone, watching the circle-once-circle-twice, Then up-under and pull-tight as his lover dresses for work. He is a pariah, an evil thing, Not deserving of such love as his lover gives, Told worse, much worse, by the ones Supposed to care, to embrace, to forgive. And he hates: them, their religion, their hypocritical piety, Their words that tell him he is less than human. His solace is his lover's warmth. And the same… And the same… She is a fraud, she tells herself, And she files the thought away With the oath she studied, practiced, and abandoned When the money became more important, When the people became names and numbers, When the practices became mundane exercises. She has killed, she fears, but what can you do? You can simply obey the rules and tell yourself You are doing the best you can. And the same… And the same… The same grace blankets them all If they care or not, if they admit it or not, Freely offered, freely given, freely wasted. To the liars, to the regretful, to the unredeemable, Wrapping itself around the shoulders Of pariahs and frauds, preachers and role models, Salving wounds deeper than acknowledged, Cleaning cuts more jagged than admittable. Anything less could not be grace. And the same… And the same… August 25, 2004 © 2004 Sean Taylor

Two quotes that just nail it dead-on...

I liked these. So sue me. “Life doesn’t imitate art. It imitates bad television.” - Woody Allen “One of the unpardonable sins, in the eyes of most people, is for a man to go about unlabelled. The world regards such a person as the police do an unmuzzled dog, not under proper control.” - T. H. Huxley (1825 - 1895), English biologist, Darwinist and agnostic: “Evolution and Ethics”, 1893. I feel I can so relate to the last one. Not that I don't enjoy trying to live between the labels, though I know I've been pegged under quite a few from time to time...

Hmmm... I'd like...

to write a praise and worship song for churches to use in their services. The title? "I'm Not Ashamed of the Gospel But That Doesn't Mean I Have to be an Arrogant, Obnoxious Butthead About It Either." Heh.

Was digging through all the crap (still) in the foyer...

And I found this poem that I'd written back in 1997. Perhaps the first poem that took me away from the "devotional" poetry I'd written throughout college... Hmmm... Anyway, I thought I'd share. Daily News Swooning beneath the weight of Utopia Two girls threw themselves from the overpass last night. The paper had nothing to say Of their goals, the desperations, their drives, Only that one was an honor student And that they both died before the ambulance arrived. The older girl died instantly, Crashing her sacrificial form through The windshield of a man driving to visit his parents. They were minors, so They must remain nameless, faceless (More palatable for the delicate Tastes of the civilized world), A pair of everywomen, no-women. We are the dirt of this island called humanity; Each one's death should diminish us, we know, But it is only dirt, we tell ourselves, And there's more than enough of that to go around. Besides, there's a happy story About a clown and a hospital On the next page. © Sean Taylo

Quotes worth archiving here

“Evil is being involved in the glamour and charm aspect of material existence - glamour in its old Gaelic sense, meaning enchantment with the look of things, rather than the soul of things.” - Kenneth Anger (b. 1929) American film-maker and author: quoted in the “Sunday Correspondent” (London), January 14, 1990. “Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.” - Philip K. Dick (1928 - 1982), American science fiction writer: definition given in 1972, quoted by Dick in his Introduction to “I Hope I Shall Arrive Soon”, 1986.

I live in a stupid subculture.

Why? Because this is an issue, and considered a major enough issue to warrant a main story in Christianity Today. My favorite part of the interview: CT: Why would a Christian get involved in horror films, of all things? Scott Derrickson: In my opinion, the horror genre is a perfect genre for Christians to be involved with. I think the more compelling question is, Why do so many Christians find it odd that a Christian would be working in this genre? To me, this genre deals more overtly with the supernatural than any other genre, it tackles issues of good and evil more than any other genre, it distinguishes and articulates the essence of good and evil better than any other genre, and my feeling is that a lot of Christians are wary of this genre simply because it's unpleasant. The genre is not about making you feel good, it is about making you face your fears. And in my experience, that's something that a lot of Christians don't want to do. (emphasis added)

Great Religious Poetry is...

Nothing much, just a great quote I saw today:

There is no great religious poetry that does not raise-as crucial to its enterprise-the question of whether it is open to the charge of blasphemy, even as there is no great erotic art that does not raise the question of whether it is open to the charge of pornography.

--Christopher Ricks, Bob Dylan's Vision of Sin

Art and Faith

First, read this: http://www.christianitytoday.com/bcl/areas/worship/articles/070404.html My favorite part of this article? This quote: "Art by its very nature is about risk-taking. Art is the risk o fexpressing in song, dance or on canvas what you feel in your heart orhear in your head. And much of the church is still afraid of the risk that comes with the arts. So, we relegate the arts to certain seasons like Easter and Christmas. We curtail their creativity by making sure they deal with only certain stories (again Easter and Christmas). Or we tolerate it from our children or even our teens. Why? Because arts and artists are too risky! What if we make a mistake? What if we cross overthe line?" I like that the writer acknowledges that art needs the freedom to take risks and go overboard in order to get it right (so to speak). This is a conversation my pastor and I have had quite a few times. Luckily I find myself in a church that values artistic expression, at least among enough in the congregation so as not to be a minority, but I also have to admit that we have a long way to go. I think our openness to use not-specifically Christian music to sing about spiritual truths is certainly a step in the right direction. We're working on an arrangement of "Blessed Be the Name" combined with "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You" that is gonna be powerful, I think. But music isn't enough. I long for the day when my church more actively embraces and intentionally pursues an artistic stand on faith through painting, sculpture, dance, drama (and not just those "Let's make a moral point" skits -- most of those just plain suck eggs -- what about some heavy stuff than opens people up for listening to big questions that make them think?), etc. Don't get me wrong. I can't think of any other church in my area that would embrace me like they have and let a guy who writes comics for Gene Simmons and books about a goddess living in a man's body come near a stage to lead worship on Sunday morning, and especially not a guy whose idea of worship music comes from classic rock more so than contemporary praise and worship trend. That said, I still we all have a long way to go.

Bring on the dancing bears...

"Every Sunday for a year I have run away from home and joined the circus as a dancing bear. We dancing bears have dressed ourselves in buttoned clothes; we mince around the rings on two feet. Today we were restless; we kept dropping onto our forepaws. "A high school stage play is more polished that this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years, we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God is so mighty he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week, we witness the same miracle: that God, for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples' dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, It is all right -- believe it or not -- to be people. "Who can believe it?" -- Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk ======================== This has to be one of the best descriptions of church I've ever read.

Philosophical Gumbo a la Sean

I've long held that I'm a self-professed postmodern existentialist christian mystic believer in absolute truth. Now, if you've studied philosophy at all, you'll know immediately that those are the kind of ingredients that make one strange and confusing soup in which the flavors don't actually complement each other.

Postmodern:
If Descartes is seen as the father of modernism, then postmodernism is a variety of cultural positions which reject major features ... modern (the philosophical concept of modern, not the chronological necessarily) thought. Hence, views which, for example, stress the priority of the social to the individual; which reject the universalizing tendencies of philosophy; which prize irony over knowledge; and which give the irrational equal footing with the rational in our decision procedures all fall under the postmodern umbrella.

Existentialism:
A philosophy that emphasizes the uniqueness and isolation of the individual experience in a hostile or indifferent universe, regards human existence as unexplainable, and stresses freedom of choice and responsibility for the consequences of one's acts.

Christian Mysticism:
Mysticism is the philosophy and practice of a direct experience of God. In the Christian context this is usually practiced through prayer, meditation and contemplation. Christian mysticism aspires to apprehend spiritual truths inaccessible through intellectual means, typically by emulation of Christ. "If you're a Christian, you're on a tightrope. If you see yourself more as a "Christian mystic" you're on the tightrope but juggling bowling balls." -- from http://www.christianmystics.com/

Absolute Truth:
In general, absolute truth is whatever is always valid, regardless of parameters or context. The absolute in the term connotes one or more of: a quality of truth that cannot be exceeded; complete truth; unvarying and permanent truth. It can be contrasted to relative truth or truth in a more ordinary sense in which a degree of relativity is implied.

How can I believe and hold to all these conflicting tenets? Well, I guess it's that struggle that helps to make me who I am. All I know is that the postmodern in me rejects easy answers and attempts to deconstruct everything to find the "truth" beneath the composition (even though typically postmoderns reject the notion of truth with a capital "T." The existentialist in me acknowledges the isolation of the individuals and places great importance on living well in a world that seems to ignore us (at best) or downright antagonistic toward us (at worst). The living heroically in that world is the greatest human achievement, seeking to be responsible for standing up in the face of that isolation. The Christian mystic in me attempts to makes sense of this all through a relationship with God, and sees that those my existentialism makes the world seem apart and distant and uncaring, the God who created it isn't, that the postmodern who has become jaded and skeptical can ultimately find something solid and real once everything has been deconstructed and laid bare apart from all it's cultural context. And the believer in absolute truth in me gives me hope that there is something real, something firm that holds true, period, and that if I search for it, regardless of its name or what faith has tried to co-opt it, it will be there just as real for me as for everyone else who has the guts to put everything they believe at risk just to find it.

So, beneath the surface of my skin and psyche, all that mixture of philosophical gumbo is going on. And now you know me, the real me. The definition of me, at least in terms of my philosophical understanding of myself, the world, and my place in it. But, in spite of all the heady, self-important crap that is me, I like to watch TV, movies and read books and comics and play (I call it work most of the time) on my computer.

All this heady stuff, and I'm still a shallow wack job, huh? But you have to love me for it, right?

(Wait, don't leave. Please...)