Hungering for the Lord this morning, I gazed at Dali's amazing painting Christ of St John on the Cross and as I looked, I realized that Dali painted nothing physical at all holding the Lord to the cross. There are no nails in his hands or his feet.
Love cannot exist where there is not the freedom to choose. And it was love that held He who loves us to the cross.
Christ defeated death by death and bestowed on us life. He has invaded our world and takes back what is his - us - defeating Satan who held us bound to deadness with our wilful departure from God. And Christ did not simply stand in as payment for our sins, oh no, in defeating death he Himself tore our bondage to Satan in two, the action of one who rescues us joyfully. THIS is the gospel of the Lord - thanks be to God!!
22 March 2008
21 March 2008
created to create... but to collaborate?
"Art is a right and human thing, like walking or saying one's prayers; but the moment it begins to be talked about very solemnly, a man may be fairly certain that the thing has come into a congestion and a kind of difficulty. The artistic temperament is a disease that affects amateurs."
-G. K. Chesterton
I would strongly suggest, next time you hang out with a cool arty friend, that the two of you try the following creative activity: try making a single poem, story, or painting - together. See if you can do the push/pull, edit/compromise, inspire/expand dynamic. I've done both the short story and the painting versions of this game lately and it definitely works your head around. Exercise your humanity! Do art with someone!
-G. K. Chesterton
I would strongly suggest, next time you hang out with a cool arty friend, that the two of you try the following creative activity: try making a single poem, story, or painting - together. See if you can do the push/pull, edit/compromise, inspire/expand dynamic. I've done both the short story and the painting versions of this game lately and it definitely works your head around. Exercise your humanity! Do art with someone!
10 March 2008
good taste
Sunday night I went out to dinner with a girlfriend and ordered a Thai mango chicken salad with this creamy mango dressing. It was a revelation.
That is all.
That is all.
07 March 2008
drinking your beer to the glory of God
I've been reading G. K. Chesterton's book Heretics recently (unattractive title, huh, but the man writes in such a burstingly joyful and robust way I just want to kiss him!) and this last chapter was on Omar and the vine - "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam." It's really a gorgeous poem, you should read it sometime - I love the bit where it says "A book of verses underneath the bough, a jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou beside me singing in the wilderness - ah, wilderness were paradise enow!" Anyway, Chesterton has some exceptionally clear and discerning things to say about this poem and drinking:
"The sound rule in the matter would appear to be like many other sound rules — a paradox. Drink because you are happy, but never because you are miserable. Never drink when you are wretched without it, or you will be like the grey-faced gin-drinker in the slum; but drink when you would be happy without it, and you will be like the laughing peasant of Italy. Never drink because you need it, for this is rational drinking, and the way to death and hell. But drink because you do not need it, for this is irrational drinking, and the ancient health of the world.
Some one called Omar "the sad, glad old Persian." Sad he is; glad he is not, in any sense of the word whatever. He has been a worse foe to gladness than the Puritans. A pensive and graceful Oriental lies under the rose-tree with his wine-pot and his scroll of poems. ... Omar Khayyam's wine-bibbing is bad, not because it is wine-bibbing. It is bad, and very bad, because it is medical wine-bibbing. His is the wine that shuts out the universe, not the wine that reveals it. It is not poetical drinking, which is joyous and instinctive; it is rational drinking, which is as prosaic as an investment, as unsavoury as a dose of camomile. ... "Drink," he says, "for you know not whence you come nor why. Drink, for you know not when you go nor where. Drink, because the stars are cruel and the world as idle as a humming-top. Drink, because there is nothing worth trusting, nothing worth fighting for. Drink, because all things are lapsed in a base equality and an evil peace." So he stands offering us the cup in his hand. "
Chesterton ends with Jesus's wheeling reversal of this: "And at the high altar of Christianity stands another figure, in whose hand also is the cup of the vine. "Drink" he says "for the whole world is as red as this wine, with the crimson of the love and wrath of God. Drink, for the trumpets are blowing for battle and this is the stirrup-cup. Drink, for this my blood of the new testament that is shed for you. Drink, for I know of whence you come and why. Drink, for I know of when you go and where."
[pause while the heavens open in your head]
Seems to me that Christians are all over the map on this topic of alcohol - some are extremely disapproving and consider it evil or at the least stupid to drink. And at the other end of the spectrum, some drink their nightly beer to the glory of God. I've never been terribly drawn to alcohol myself - for the most part I simply don't find it very interesting. When I do actively want a drink it's usually not a good idea because I know I'm already depressed. But I would love to be able to have the option in my life to go have a drink or two at a pub with my mates and have that jolly, vitality-filled camaraderie. It makes visions of Oxford and the Inklings and men in tweed smoking pipes dance in my head!
"The sound rule in the matter would appear to be like many other sound rules — a paradox. Drink because you are happy, but never because you are miserable. Never drink when you are wretched without it, or you will be like the grey-faced gin-drinker in the slum; but drink when you would be happy without it, and you will be like the laughing peasant of Italy. Never drink because you need it, for this is rational drinking, and the way to death and hell. But drink because you do not need it, for this is irrational drinking, and the ancient health of the world.
Some one called Omar "the sad, glad old Persian." Sad he is; glad he is not, in any sense of the word whatever. He has been a worse foe to gladness than the Puritans. A pensive and graceful Oriental lies under the rose-tree with his wine-pot and his scroll of poems. ... Omar Khayyam's wine-bibbing is bad, not because it is wine-bibbing. It is bad, and very bad, because it is medical wine-bibbing. His is the wine that shuts out the universe, not the wine that reveals it. It is not poetical drinking, which is joyous and instinctive; it is rational drinking, which is as prosaic as an investment, as unsavoury as a dose of camomile. ... "Drink," he says, "for you know not whence you come nor why. Drink, for you know not when you go nor where. Drink, because the stars are cruel and the world as idle as a humming-top. Drink, because there is nothing worth trusting, nothing worth fighting for. Drink, because all things are lapsed in a base equality and an evil peace." So he stands offering us the cup in his hand. "
Chesterton ends with Jesus's wheeling reversal of this: "And at the high altar of Christianity stands another figure, in whose hand also is the cup of the vine. "Drink" he says "for the whole world is as red as this wine, with the crimson of the love and wrath of God. Drink, for the trumpets are blowing for battle and this is the stirrup-cup. Drink, for this my blood of the new testament that is shed for you. Drink, for I know of whence you come and why. Drink, for I know of when you go and where."
[pause while the heavens open in your head]
Seems to me that Christians are all over the map on this topic of alcohol - some are extremely disapproving and consider it evil or at the least stupid to drink. And at the other end of the spectrum, some drink their nightly beer to the glory of God. I've never been terribly drawn to alcohol myself - for the most part I simply don't find it very interesting. When I do actively want a drink it's usually not a good idea because I know I'm already depressed. But I would love to be able to have the option in my life to go have a drink or two at a pub with my mates and have that jolly, vitality-filled camaraderie. It makes visions of Oxford and the Inklings and men in tweed smoking pipes dance in my head!
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