Safe Ground

[A dorky poem by yours truly.]

As long as we continue to pedal
   through the same ideas and concepts
     every Sunday
As long as "they" are always wrong
   and "we" are always right
Then we are on safe ground.

Some days we seem to veer near the edge.
We come close to an interesting or new idea.
We consider that there might be more to consider.
And then we get back on task.

If we really believe what we believe
Then aren't we already on safe ground?
Shouldn't we feel safe then,
   pedaling outside our comfort zone?

*Sigh*

Another Sunday spent
   remaining on safe ground.

He has a knack for that

I got this in my email inbox today. The text at the bottom says, "Steve Fee has quite a knack for writing relevant worship songs with memorable melodies and lyrics that give voice to the songs that God has already put in the hearts of His people."

Does that even make sense to say that Steve has "quite a knack" for writing worship songs?Seems like that would be akin to saying that Elijah had "quite a knack" for working miracles or Moses had "quite a knack" for leading the Israelites out of Egypt. 

Jars of Clay covers Van Halen (accordion style)

We listen to Mornings with Brant on our way in to school. He's thoughtful, brings up interesting topics of discussion, and is just the right amount of irreverent.

He also plays accordion, but this time around it was one of the chaps from Jars of Clay that grabbed the instrument and rocked out. (Brant is the guy who throws his face in front of the camera about half way through.)

Ayn Rand vs. Kathleen Dean Moore

I'm currently reading Ayn Rand's We the Living. I've only read one Ayn Rand before; I can't remember which book it was.  All I remember was that the two characters that hated each other the most were also constantly having sex with each other.  It seemed a bit bizarre to me. But since then I've occasionally heard people rave over Ayn Rand's books. So I decided to dive in again in hopes of figuring out what exactly it was that people liked in them. I still don't think I get it.  (Feel free to enlighten me.) But I did find that some sections of the book stand at a delightful juxtaposition to an article I was reading in this week's High Country News.

I'm curious, which quote resonates with you more? And why?

"Don't you know," her voice trembled suddenly in a passionate plea she could not hide, "don't you know that there are things, in the best of us, which no outside hand should dare to touch? Things sacred because, and only because, one can say: 'This is mine'? Don't you know that we live only for ourselves, the best of us do, those who are worthy of it? Don't you know that there is something in us which must not be touched by any state, by any collective, by any number of millions?" -- Ayn Rand, in We the Living

This inclusiveness is by design. Kathy's friends and family members underscore Aldo Leopold's belief that, just as ecology is the science of connection, so "all ethics... rest upon a single premise: that the individual is a member of a community of interdependent parts." It is also Moore's reply to centuries of Western philosophy.  She believes that our great thinkers have spent far too much energy parsing distinctions between ideas, between humans and other living things, between the mundane and the sacred, and not given nearly enough effort to pointing out commonalities. -- John Calderazzo, writing about Kathleen Dean Moore in an article entitled, "When reverence isn't enough" in HCN.

Re: Jesus loves you

This cracked me up. I'd love to see what folks said in the emails they sent in reply to him.

I think the answer to the disconnect has to do with justice. But the disconnect itself is interesting in its own right (as the video hilariously points out). I think many people who call themselves Christians live in this world of disconnect without ever realizing how confused they are. And when it dawns on them, I think that's when they jump ship.

Death is a Donne Deal

I think I'd be remiss in talking about death if I didn't mention what I believe Death's fate is in the end. John Donne (one of my favorite poets) summed it up far better than I ever could:

Death Be Not Proud

by John Donne
(1572-1631)

---

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

(copied over from About.com)

End of Life Discussions

OK, so perhaps we can't prove, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that we're all gonna die, but I'd venture to say that it's pretty likely to occur. It's going to happen to me. It's going to happen to you. Whether we want to talk about it or not, it's one of those pieces of life that we get to undergo whether we ever talk about it or not.

But why don't we talk about it? Why does the inclusion of "end-of-life counseling" in the president's health care proposal stir so much acrimony? I can understand where people have concerns about a government run health care system or they might have issues with the increased cost to the nation or other similar issues.  But fighting the inclusion of counseling to help people know what their options are when making a living will? What is it that we're really fighting there? Is this a means for the nation to channel Dylan Thomas in raging against the dying of the light? It's not the counseling we're afraid of. It's that bit about death.

The older sister of one of Nathan's former classmates died last Thursday. She was 14. She was hit by an SUV as she biked across a crosswalk and her body was thrown 60 feet. I heard that her mother spent most of the day thrown across her body crying. I can't get that image out of my mind. I ache for her loss and I imagine myself similarly prostrate across one of my children's lifeless forms if the same were to befall us. And that leads me to appreciate and love and cherish my kids all the more. They're not dead, yet. I'm not dead, yet. But all of us will be one day. Recognizing and being aware of that fact enables me to be more thankful for the life we have today.

The New York Times had an article on end-of-life care and counseling yesterday entitled, "At the End, Offering Not a Cure but Comfort." The article touches upon different people's ability to cope with the fact that they are nearing the end of their life. It described a cancer patient whose response to the tragic news that her cancer was terminal was to state matter-of-factly that she's rather live, thank you very much. Her response echoed the statements made by a gal in our church who passed away several years ago from a brain tumor. She "just wanted to get on with life." ... Isn't that what many of us would say when faced with death? "No thank you. I'll pass on that. I've got better things to do." And yet it comes anyway.

Why is discussing death left to the goths and morbid teens who have more life in them than the death they love to ruminate on? Why are we not more aware of death in our day-today lives? Rob and I both remind our kids that we're not going to be around forever.  We don't know the day of our demise, but we recognize that it's coming. We know that each day we have in which we can be with our kids and love them and raise them is a gift. We try hard not to take that for granted. As much as I'd love to promise my kids that I'll always be here for them, I'd be a fool to say that. There are no guarantees.

I would have thought that Terry Schiavo's situation would have taught us all a lesson. Death is coming and it's not always as clean and definitive as one might hope. Talking about death with our family members might seem like a real downer, but if something like what happened to Terry happened to us, wouldn't that downer of a conversation take on a whole new light? Wouldn't our family members feel relieved that we'd written down our wishes? The pain of the death might not be diminished, but at least it wouldn't also be shackled with the doubt, guilt and other issues that can come with trying to decide about pulling that plug.

The beautiful thing when talking about death is that it proves to be such a perfect foil for life. It illuminates and highlights the precious nature of that which we often take for granted. As Natalie Babbitt said in Tuck Everlasting, "Don't be afraid of death, be afraid of the unlived life."