What is hip?Tell me, tell me, if you think you know.What is hip?If you're really hip, the question, "Will it show?"You're into a hip trip.Maybe hipper than hip.What is hip?You went an' found you a guru.In an effort to find you a new you,And maybe even raise your conscious level.While you're striving to find the right road,There's one thing you should know,"What's hip today, might become passe'.
"Hipness is. What it is!Hipness is. What it is!Hipness is. What it is!Sometimes hipness is, what it ain't.
Sure this old Tower of Power tune is fantastic.. and although they are credited with this hipness I still prefer the band 9Teen's version as the hippest!
But, then again, that would be the way I look at this ultimate paragon.. or do i mean perfection?
Or are hipness and perfection in paradigmatic relation with one another?
I guess it all lies in the eyes of the perfect beholder doesn't it? Yet, we as a society have come to learn a far more scary way to look at alternatives. (or none). Lately I feel bombarded by,
"perfectionist hipness." Seemingly, what dons the cover of every magazine in the market check-out is someone telling me how I can be hip! Hip in my fashion, in my diet, my home, my spiritual focus, my parenting, my travel, and even in my retirement. Except, if you are a smarter/sleazier grocery store rag you have appealed to those that "have not" and place your focus on how the movie stars and celebrities who set the model of "hipness" are screwing up... Pointing out their cellulite, their public fighting and essentially their "normal" living. The only folks making out on that trend is the publishers of such literature... and the world rotates again capitalizing on some person's grief in order to make themselves better! Still not hip!
Why does Pottery Barn dictate how hip my home should look? (again, we all do it). Do we not have minds of our own? Why do Brad and Angelina hold the bar on adoption when it's been in vogue for hundreds of years? Why do I need to know that 40+ people such as myself are now the new 20! ( All the while expecting that although we can deprive ourselves of fun food, wine and good living will guarantee that I'm going to look fab, "hip" in my skinny jeans?) Why do I believe that my near 50 year old boyfriend wants that? And why does television not focus on fiction anymore? Why are we forced to watch people mortgage themselves out to live out these daily falsehoods.. (sorry "hipness" ), on "real TV" every night??
I think back to my childhood. I was a child of the 60's and 70's. I grew up in a very normal middle class environment. Our home did not resemble Pier 1 Imports, although it may have looked more like Sears and Roebuck. "The hip" store of my time. Which Tower of Power may have come to call "passe" in their lyrics. Is Sears still around? Anyway. I do not remember this hype.. (or maybe we can abbreviate this word to hyp ? ) I remember needing one winter coat every year. I remember getting 2 pair of shoes in September. One for school, and for Sunday. I remember one meal prepared each night for the "entire" family. There were no alternatives. I remember needing to save for what I needed.. and I remember my parents needing to do that too! I remember much of this simplistic living.. yet when I look at the word "Simple" in the titles of every magazine, yogurt container, grocery slogan, it looks a whole lot different than the "simple" ways I remember from my childhood.
The 60's to some may have been hip to those who grew up in the depression of the 30's. I am certain it is all relative somewhere I guess. ( as my Dad always says). However, it feels much different to me. We are a society much altered even from the 60's model... and yet only 40 years later. We are into alterations and improvements of everything we know: our bodies, minds, our homes, our relationships.. notice that even Christmas Trees look perfect nowadays?? We were real at one time, we have now become, "Pleasantville". Even worse then the 1950's post-war mentality of Mrs. Cleaver, nobody having sex, smoking is fine, cocktails in excess and couples staying married forever. NO...We are worse.
At least the 60's broke us out of that model with mind-altering substances you bought on the street... now, our modern day drug dealers are our physicians! We don't smoke pot or take LSD anymore to "open" the mind... We take anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds to help us "not see" anymore!
We are teaching our children that labels of all kinds are acceptable. We are teaching them that only certain labels in our jeans/genes make us "hip." Certain handbags/baggage make us even more "hip." And far worse labels of people are just as "hip/hyp." Where does it end? I oft wonder if I have the boob job I want, (opposite direction folks), will it make me more hip or not? I think the one that went bigger is now passe?! What happens when boobs are in or out again in 10 years?? How do we change, evolutionarily speaking, if we keep "removing and placing" parts that do or don't belong? At least I know the reason we are losing our back molars.. we just don't need to gnaw raw meat off of bones anymore!
I worry about our future society. I worry about the society we live in. It is a no wonder that half of the planet is medicated! They would have to be to roll with what the celebrities and publicists tell us what is "hip!" How to live in the hippest flat, have the hippest credit cards, and raise our kids in the hippest ways. "Housewives of somewhere..." I often think our kids are going to grow up loving to clone, or resorting to pot! Why does an un natural blonde hold so much power in today's world? It is a flash of "something" that grabs our attention. Isn't it? Or is it the fact we want the appeal she has? I don't know many days I think about doing it just so I can find out! Why not.. everyone else is!
I tell you this perfectionist behavior is a result of needing to control everything around us. We get the immediate things we need or want... or take.. then we forget about those who have helped us or needed us. We don't have time anymore for people or their problems because we are too busy not allowing our kids to self-soothe and entertain themselves with God's greatest toy.. imagination. We are raising people who will not learn how to invent, dream or find fun in their own way.. forget about the "Jones'"... the "Hollywoods" will be holding the bar for us to jump too. Designer birthday parties, coffee, clothing and bling are seemingly all that matters to us.
I think homogenous living might not be so hip anymore...
When we don't measure up.. we pop something! We dye our hair, buy a $500 bag, rat on our friends, covet others, or think we deserve extra "playmates! All because we are told and tell ourselves, "we deserve it." THAT seems to be hip!
I often laugh that women are still the big victims of all of this hipness! Our men complain that it takes so long to do our hair and yet the first thing they do is flip around when the girl who spends $300 at the salon comes along and bitch when we don't put the special energy in it for them. Okay, now I am really confused....
Recently, we were told by Oprah that it is okay to be fat now... we were told by her that it is a sign of something deeper.. duh? Or perhaps it is just easier for her now to say that rather, "I can only eat a certain amount of natural things in smaller portions at my age." It's a hell of a lot
easier to utter, "To hell with what messed me up to get me here, I'll just buy bigger things and do what I want." I am not sure how I feel about that anymore! The term "everything in moderation"seems to enter my mind. But we are not a society of knowing how to live moderately anymore. We are the opposite.
It's a roller coaster of emotional energy I am tired of. If you're a size 2 then you are hip this week in America. A size 2 in Haiti however has a different spin! Men are still heavy... at any age.. albeit, I will say it is hipper, for once, for younger men to be thin and buff in today's world. But as men age, they are falling victim, (worse I think), to the hip factor of what their gal-pal should look like. Standards are different. They cheat because we are told.. "Well, you didn't keep yourself up!" And simultaneously they do not want the drama of what it takes to look like our hip diva trend-setters on the West Coast !
Or has it just become "okay" to do whatever we want in life?
As an educator of young people I watch this stuff go on now. I watch the "L" go on a forehead to another 5 year old.. and I hear words like, "whatever" used. They think it is hip to be uncaring. They have learned somewhere that it is okay to criticize another for their clothing choices and lunch foods. They now know all about kids with "special needs" and use it to their advantage to be "hip" or get out of something. They wear belly shirts, earrings and have dyed hair. They know when someone is "fat" equally as well as they know when somebody else is "phat!"
We are forgetting to be a society of people who are real. I am victim of this myself at times. And it scares me when do we begin to know who we really are and what we really believe in?For years we are controlled . Our parents, the church controls us, tell us what is hip... when we are good and bad, right and wrong. Hollywood tells us. The Internet tells us, and television expounds upon this. Where do we go from here? Who is hip? and What is hyp?
"You went an' found you a guru.In an effort to find you a new you,And maybe even raise your conscious level.While you're striving to find the right road,There's one thing you should know,"What's hip today, might become passe'."
And in the words of FLoyd... "Look around.. choose your own ground..."
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Dad...Are we there yet?
Instead of calling this year's road trip experience, "Roadtrippin' Vol II", I thought I give it a title that better suits this year's version...."Dad, Are we there yet?"
HAH!!! I know you know what's next...For me, images of 1960's Volkswagen Bus', trips down and up Route 95 searching for the perfect Civil War Battleground to explore. Maybe another whirl through Gettysburg? Williamsburg? Richmond? or for fun... let's go to Antietam for a real taste of battle gore! No sign of "The Mouse" for this girl... or Hershey Park, or even Busch Gardens, (truly don't think it was around in the 60's and 70's anyway!)
Roadtrippin' today...though... even still with a destination of sunny Florida STILL shapes up no differently than it did 40 years ago! That is when one travels in modern day roadtrippin' style!
My trip as a 40-something on the Great super highway of 95 contained many of the same variables as days gone by! All the factors present on the checklist of traveling 1000 miles with children, in the ride that is!!!! Let me recount to you my childhood, jettisoned to now, on a road trip from the very north to the very south... the only real difference... 1 child extra, a ride-a-long school teacher, video and computer technology, "Carla.. the GPS, not-so-know-it-all", medication to prevent car motion sickness (for me!) and 3 very patient adult pilots! Ok.. it WASN'T the same really!!! ALthough, I found myself in the Steve Carrel position of the van at times from Little Miss Sunshine!
Our trip begins the Friday eve of April School vacation. For me traditionally, it was always Washington, DC. Our annual pilgrimage was to go and witness the bed where Lincoln died in mid-April, see the Cherry blossoms and perhaps a day trip to Appomattox courthouse.. maybe Mt. Vernon just for the fun of it! This April vacation I am happy to say that my dearest friends the Perry's and their 4 kids were heading to vacation mecca for their annual pilgrimage during April vacation week.. "Disney World" !!!! (Nana & Pop too!) Seeing I commute to Florida now on a regular basis they were gracious enough to ask me to road trip along and roll me out onto a grassy knoll somewhere in Jacksonville on their way to the promised land! As any budget- abiding gal would do she took the offer... and to no surprise, found myself in the middle of a roadtrippin' adventure I hadn't experienced in some time!!!!
Here, we are all packed. I land at Casa Perry exactly on schedule for a Friday night departure. I arrive to 6 neatly packed and stowed color-coded suitcases. (Not even my organized mother was this good!!) I lay my roll-away and carry-on neatly on top, grab my pillow and x-large Diet Pepsi and in minutes we are all buckled, received safety and exiting instructing, and are now the viewers of tonight's featured film!!! (That is something the Volkswagen did not have- (had that been invented, my father would have taken us to California watching "How the West was Won!") The cabin is a buzz with Super Mario jumps, crashing Pac Man, (honestly I'm too old to know better so I am embellishing), and every other game known to the "DS" system... (again one more piece of technology that is new to the journey....) I did get to bring Lite Bright sometimes on my trips!!)
Three adults worked that day. Two worked with children, and the other with "older children.." , we were all "ready" for the road. As we approached the RI-CT border I began to hear familiar noises around the cabin. " Dad, are we there yet?" from a young 4-year old.... I totally smiled and thought "Kid, if you only knew!" Again, after a long hard day at preschool you would be asking that most important, quintessential question at 4 just under an hour into the trip too! Hell, I work in that same place and wondered it a bit myself.. lol!
The phrase however, did set the tone!
The sky began to darken and cries of hunger then emerged... "Hey , when are we stopping at McDonald's?" Ah... this was the road trip I remembered.. except, I was a passenger in my 40's buckled into a luxury van watching Peter Pan! Once when my Uncle David, on one of his adventures with us in the Bus, was sitting in his " lazy boy" that he and my dad threw into the back of the bus, one of those fate-filled Washington adventures he surely must have known the pleasure of this adventure too... right before HE had kids!!
And then the fights began!!!!!
Capt Hook cannot hold a candle to Capt Ronald McDonald... nor do the Mario Bros trump bathroom pit stops! (By the adults BTW!) Super-sized caffineated sodas and long road trips do not equal easy on and off pee breaks at rest stops! Hell the kids got to use what we did in the old-fashioned days of carriaging down 95.... today if adults did it it would be known as abuse!!! SO- the adults stopped and ran in when they could and resumed the rules of the road! The kids at times got to stay and "use" the comforts of the head on board-
I suppose the McDee's stop would've been just like the old days.. although back then the Happy Meal was only "happy" to my parents who paid under a $1 for a cheeseburger and fries- no toys, nothing to fight over for us- yet still made us happy! Today.. I had no idea that McDonald's took Jaime Oliver's course!!! There was more to choose from then I could possibly imagine. I got something heart-healthy without the put-together dragon... or my evening scotch...and put 4 other dragons together however ... suffice I didn't need that to feel the happiness I was feeling reliving my childhood again!
As the fighting and laughter faded in the back I turned and saw 4 angelic creatures nodded off in PJ's surrounded by animal character airplane neck support pillows, blankies and stuffed dogs...I was wondering why I had forgotten this part of my childhood road trip experience? Ah.. how comfortable.. the knowledge that you could fall asleep and know that 3 pilots would be sailing on through and wake up in sunny F-L-A is enough to put any mind to a sound sleep... until you wake up and find yourself still in Baltimore! Okay.. the adults had needed more Big Gulps and fewer naps...
My 4am shift was greeted with no lav or coffee at 5am as McDonald's promises.. and took us into a cloudy dawn through Washington. (Funny that this was my stop). The remainder of the day was the same, switch hitting the wheel through the god-fearing boredom of the Carolina's...stops to the BK Lounge and more noise from the back over technology I knew nothing of since the early 80's, parents trying to catnap, gossip over events of late, and answering that end-all question.. "Dad, are we there yet???"
I knew at one fuel station we were close, I felt the sweat beading on my brow, the film across my teeth and the memories of college 'all-nighters" swimming in my head.... not to mention the increasing feel of humidity... aaah Georgia was on my mind! The kids were finally saying, "Dad, we must be close I see palm trees!" And suddenly the spirit lifted. Chatter of what might be happening at Cinderella's castle in the air and my good friends praying that Grandma would swoop in and lovingly take their grandchildren to bed, bath and beyond.. (and I'm not speaking of the chain store!) And yes, I knew my trip was closing in on me too! 56 miles to Jacksonville! Those are signs we LOVE to see on the highway of life!
My trip felt like my childhood relived again.. except I guess, that no one vomited, I didn't get to stop in Richmond and see Lee and Grant's whatever....(although Chris really wanted too!) I did get to see Disney flicks on film instead of waiting for them 1x a year on TV, right there in the van, I didn't pee in a pan.. (not saying anyone else did for the protection of the innocent), there was little adult arguing and child discipline, I wore a seat belt the whole time, I traded "I spy" for a Nintendo DS, oh.. and I got to make it to sunny FLA for R&R... so although, the American Family Road Trip has not changed... it was still better than having to walk 5 miles in the snow to school every morning!
I sadly waived good bye to my traveling buddies and jumped into the arms of Jax and was secretly jealous of their next destination, and said "Let's do it all again next week!"
Thanks Perrys!
Love, Miss Dawn
HAH!!! I know you know what's next...For me, images of 1960's Volkswagen Bus', trips down and up Route 95 searching for the perfect Civil War Battleground to explore. Maybe another whirl through Gettysburg? Williamsburg? Richmond? or for fun... let's go to Antietam for a real taste of battle gore! No sign of "The Mouse" for this girl... or Hershey Park, or even Busch Gardens, (truly don't think it was around in the 60's and 70's anyway!)
Roadtrippin' today...though... even still with a destination of sunny Florida STILL shapes up no differently than it did 40 years ago! That is when one travels in modern day roadtrippin' style!
My trip as a 40-something on the Great super highway of 95 contained many of the same variables as days gone by! All the factors present on the checklist of traveling 1000 miles with children, in the ride that is!!!! Let me recount to you my childhood, jettisoned to now, on a road trip from the very north to the very south... the only real difference... 1 child extra, a ride-a-long school teacher, video and computer technology, "Carla.. the GPS, not-so-know-it-all", medication to prevent car motion sickness (for me!) and 3 very patient adult pilots! Ok.. it WASN'T the same really!!! ALthough, I found myself in the Steve Carrel position of the van at times from Little Miss Sunshine!
Our trip begins the Friday eve of April School vacation. For me traditionally, it was always Washington, DC. Our annual pilgrimage was to go and witness the bed where Lincoln died in mid-April, see the Cherry blossoms and perhaps a day trip to Appomattox courthouse.. maybe Mt. Vernon just for the fun of it! This April vacation I am happy to say that my dearest friends the Perry's and their 4 kids were heading to vacation mecca for their annual pilgrimage during April vacation week.. "Disney World" !!!! (Nana & Pop too!) Seeing I commute to Florida now on a regular basis they were gracious enough to ask me to road trip along and roll me out onto a grassy knoll somewhere in Jacksonville on their way to the promised land! As any budget- abiding gal would do she took the offer... and to no surprise, found myself in the middle of a roadtrippin' adventure I hadn't experienced in some time!!!!
Here, we are all packed. I land at Casa Perry exactly on schedule for a Friday night departure. I arrive to 6 neatly packed and stowed color-coded suitcases. (Not even my organized mother was this good!!) I lay my roll-away and carry-on neatly on top, grab my pillow and x-large Diet Pepsi and in minutes we are all buckled, received safety and exiting instructing, and are now the viewers of tonight's featured film!!! (That is something the Volkswagen did not have- (had that been invented, my father would have taken us to California watching "How the West was Won!") The cabin is a buzz with Super Mario jumps, crashing Pac Man, (honestly I'm too old to know better so I am embellishing), and every other game known to the "DS" system... (again one more piece of technology that is new to the journey....) I did get to bring Lite Bright sometimes on my trips!!)
Three adults worked that day. Two worked with children, and the other with "older children.." , we were all "ready" for the road. As we approached the RI-CT border I began to hear familiar noises around the cabin. " Dad, are we there yet?" from a young 4-year old.... I totally smiled and thought "Kid, if you only knew!" Again, after a long hard day at preschool you would be asking that most important, quintessential question at 4 just under an hour into the trip too! Hell, I work in that same place and wondered it a bit myself.. lol!
The phrase however, did set the tone!
The sky began to darken and cries of hunger then emerged... "Hey , when are we stopping at McDonald's?" Ah... this was the road trip I remembered.. except, I was a passenger in my 40's buckled into a luxury van watching Peter Pan! Once when my Uncle David, on one of his adventures with us in the Bus, was sitting in his " lazy boy" that he and my dad threw into the back of the bus, one of those fate-filled Washington adventures he surely must have known the pleasure of this adventure too... right before HE had kids!!
And then the fights began!!!!!
Capt Hook cannot hold a candle to Capt Ronald McDonald... nor do the Mario Bros trump bathroom pit stops! (By the adults BTW!) Super-sized caffineated sodas and long road trips do not equal easy on and off pee breaks at rest stops! Hell the kids got to use what we did in the old-fashioned days of carriaging down 95.... today if adults did it it would be known as abuse!!! SO- the adults stopped and ran in when they could and resumed the rules of the road! The kids at times got to stay and "use" the comforts of the head on board-
I suppose the McDee's stop would've been just like the old days.. although back then the Happy Meal was only "happy" to my parents who paid under a $1 for a cheeseburger and fries- no toys, nothing to fight over for us- yet still made us happy! Today.. I had no idea that McDonald's took Jaime Oliver's course!!! There was more to choose from then I could possibly imagine. I got something heart-healthy without the put-together dragon... or my evening scotch...and put 4 other dragons together however ... suffice I didn't need that to feel the happiness I was feeling reliving my childhood again!
As the fighting and laughter faded in the back I turned and saw 4 angelic creatures nodded off in PJ's surrounded by animal character airplane neck support pillows, blankies and stuffed dogs...I was wondering why I had forgotten this part of my childhood road trip experience? Ah.. how comfortable.. the knowledge that you could fall asleep and know that 3 pilots would be sailing on through and wake up in sunny F-L-A is enough to put any mind to a sound sleep... until you wake up and find yourself still in Baltimore! Okay.. the adults had needed more Big Gulps and fewer naps...
My 4am shift was greeted with no lav or coffee at 5am as McDonald's promises.. and took us into a cloudy dawn through Washington. (Funny that this was my stop). The remainder of the day was the same, switch hitting the wheel through the god-fearing boredom of the Carolina's...stops to the BK Lounge and more noise from the back over technology I knew nothing of since the early 80's, parents trying to catnap, gossip over events of late, and answering that end-all question.. "Dad, are we there yet???"
I knew at one fuel station we were close, I felt the sweat beading on my brow, the film across my teeth and the memories of college 'all-nighters" swimming in my head.... not to mention the increasing feel of humidity... aaah Georgia was on my mind! The kids were finally saying, "Dad, we must be close I see palm trees!" And suddenly the spirit lifted. Chatter of what might be happening at Cinderella's castle in the air and my good friends praying that Grandma would swoop in and lovingly take their grandchildren to bed, bath and beyond.. (and I'm not speaking of the chain store!) And yes, I knew my trip was closing in on me too! 56 miles to Jacksonville! Those are signs we LOVE to see on the highway of life!
My trip felt like my childhood relived again.. except I guess, that no one vomited, I didn't get to stop in Richmond and see Lee and Grant's whatever....(although Chris really wanted too!) I did get to see Disney flicks on film instead of waiting for them 1x a year on TV, right there in the van, I didn't pee in a pan.. (not saying anyone else did for the protection of the innocent), there was little adult arguing and child discipline, I wore a seat belt the whole time, I traded "I spy" for a Nintendo DS, oh.. and I got to make it to sunny FLA for R&R... so although, the American Family Road Trip has not changed... it was still better than having to walk 5 miles in the snow to school every morning!
I sadly waived good bye to my traveling buddies and jumped into the arms of Jax and was secretly jealous of their next destination, and said "Let's do it all again next week!"
Thanks Perrys!
Love, Miss Dawn
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Come Together
"Here come old flattop. He come grooving up slowly. He got joo-joo eyeball. He one holy roller. He got hair down to his knee Got to be a joker he just do what he please... Come Together right now over me!
I know, Miss Dawn's got her Beatles going on again.. and yes, she usually does, although in reflecting upon today's Gospel this song just keeps "coming over me!"
I have to laugh thinking that although this song is portraying the Beatles individually during a time of angst for them it also makes me think of Jesus coming into the room to visit the Disciples during their angst that first day of the week after the Resurrection. (still Easter).
Honestly, get the visual as you sing along.. HAH.. I can't help thinking that if John Lennon were present that fate filled evening this is somewhat how he would describe Jesus' surprise visit! The Disciples, all but Thomas, waiting in a room... Kind of like Paul not being with the group much in those days. Forewarned to meet there by Mary Magdalene, (the Yoko Ono sideboard), they awaited the man to cross over that proverbial crosswalk from Heaven to Earth in his white dazzling suit and say "Hi guys... I told you this would happen." And so he did. "My peace I leave you, my peace I give you." Such powerful words to live by.
" I know you and you know me, One thing I can tell you is you got to be free." Come together, right now, Over me!
This broken and repaired Jesus was back to the very people who spent His final days in hiding. Afraid of what may happen to them. Not being near Jesus in his final hours. Here Jesus was back with them risen, and telling them in his groovy way that although they are frightened by this mess that he leaves with them with His peace.... So Come together, right now over me!
Jesus breathes new life into them and gives them a dosage of Holy Spirit to over come the fears, carry on and keep Jesus' peace inside them to face the harder days ahead. He was there to let them know he had not given up on them. He was there to build real discipleship now!
The disciples know that they are staring into the sweetest joo-joo eyeballs they have ever seen. They are believers! He got feet down below his knees- implying that he isn't kneeling anymore. He is Risen, stand up straight and believe.
Thomas, our doubting friend of the bunch is absent for this meeting. I love teaching this Gospel to children as I immediately follow up with a delicious snack of course... "Thomas' English Muffins!" You know the ones with lots of holes!! No one knows where Thomas is the day Jesus' comes back. Fishing? Downtime? Anxiety? Who knows. But he is informed when he does come around finally that in fact Jesus kept His promise. He was back and bigger than ever! A doubter by trade, Thomas replies, "I am sorry, I don't think so."
"Unless I see him with my eyes and place my finger into his wounds, "hold you in His armchair so you can feel His disease... will I believe!" Funny way to think of this isn't it? All 10 who were witness to Jesus assured Thomas that this was real. (Remember Judas is gone). How could Thomas, and more importantly why would Thomas not believe these folks who had become such a tight knit group? He surely heard the premonition, the prophesy, "He got early warning, he got muddy water, He one Mojo Filter.. and He said, "One and One and One is three," professed over and over by Jesus in the days leading toward this. Why would one doubt? Thomas must have "been so good lookin' it was so hard to see." Come together, right now, over me~
The next week in the same room Jesus shows himself again. This time Thomas is present. He still is reluctant until Jesus approaches him.. right in-his-face-style work... (sometimes as Jesus does for us all), and proclaims to Thomas that, in fact, this is, really real! It all did happen regardless of what seemed impossible and doubtful. After Thomas held Him in his armchair he surely knew that a living Christ was before him. He dropped, not having feet below his knees, and professed publicly the error in his ways. The spirit moved upon Thomas. The roller coaster was over.
"Blessed are those who do not see, but believe." says Jesus. Come together right now over me! Go, tell the world I would like them to begin doing that very thing each week.
And so we do.
The Walrus
I know, Miss Dawn's got her Beatles going on again.. and yes, she usually does, although in reflecting upon today's Gospel this song just keeps "coming over me!"
I have to laugh thinking that although this song is portraying the Beatles individually during a time of angst for them it also makes me think of Jesus coming into the room to visit the Disciples during their angst that first day of the week after the Resurrection. (still Easter).
Honestly, get the visual as you sing along.. HAH.. I can't help thinking that if John Lennon were present that fate filled evening this is somewhat how he would describe Jesus' surprise visit! The Disciples, all but Thomas, waiting in a room... Kind of like Paul not being with the group much in those days. Forewarned to meet there by Mary Magdalene, (the Yoko Ono sideboard), they awaited the man to cross over that proverbial crosswalk from Heaven to Earth in his white dazzling suit and say "Hi guys... I told you this would happen." And so he did. "My peace I leave you, my peace I give you." Such powerful words to live by.
" I know you and you know me, One thing I can tell you is you got to be free." Come together, right now, Over me!
This broken and repaired Jesus was back to the very people who spent His final days in hiding. Afraid of what may happen to them. Not being near Jesus in his final hours. Here Jesus was back with them risen, and telling them in his groovy way that although they are frightened by this mess that he leaves with them with His peace.... So Come together, right now over me!
Jesus breathes new life into them and gives them a dosage of Holy Spirit to over come the fears, carry on and keep Jesus' peace inside them to face the harder days ahead. He was there to let them know he had not given up on them. He was there to build real discipleship now!
The disciples know that they are staring into the sweetest joo-joo eyeballs they have ever seen. They are believers! He got feet down below his knees- implying that he isn't kneeling anymore. He is Risen, stand up straight and believe.
Thomas, our doubting friend of the bunch is absent for this meeting. I love teaching this Gospel to children as I immediately follow up with a delicious snack of course... "Thomas' English Muffins!" You know the ones with lots of holes!! No one knows where Thomas is the day Jesus' comes back. Fishing? Downtime? Anxiety? Who knows. But he is informed when he does come around finally that in fact Jesus kept His promise. He was back and bigger than ever! A doubter by trade, Thomas replies, "I am sorry, I don't think so."
"Unless I see him with my eyes and place my finger into his wounds, "hold you in His armchair so you can feel His disease... will I believe!" Funny way to think of this isn't it? All 10 who were witness to Jesus assured Thomas that this was real. (Remember Judas is gone). How could Thomas, and more importantly why would Thomas not believe these folks who had become such a tight knit group? He surely heard the premonition, the prophesy, "He got early warning, he got muddy water, He one Mojo Filter.. and He said, "One and One and One is three," professed over and over by Jesus in the days leading toward this. Why would one doubt? Thomas must have "been so good lookin' it was so hard to see." Come together, right now, over me~
The next week in the same room Jesus shows himself again. This time Thomas is present. He still is reluctant until Jesus approaches him.. right in-his-face-style work... (sometimes as Jesus does for us all), and proclaims to Thomas that, in fact, this is, really real! It all did happen regardless of what seemed impossible and doubtful. After Thomas held Him in his armchair he surely knew that a living Christ was before him. He dropped, not having feet below his knees, and professed publicly the error in his ways. The spirit moved upon Thomas. The roller coaster was over.
"Blessed are those who do not see, but believe." says Jesus. Come together right now over me! Go, tell the world I would like them to begin doing that very thing each week.
And so we do.
The Walrus
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Good Friday...Indeed it is Good!
Good Friday... all I can hear over and over, "Miss Dawn, Why is it so good??" Good Question!!!
Well, another Good Friday is behind us. Once again, (and reluctantly), I offered my annual Good Friday Camp to wee people. A day to truly walk with Christ during his final hours. This past year, I have been somewhat out of the direct spotlight of Christ...or so I thought. Not teaching Sunday School or Chapel for about 9 months brought me to a new way of being with God. There were moments this past year where I questioned my own walk with Christ. I began wondering if my service had expired. However it did not take long before God picked me up and began to utilize my God-given talent in teaching folks about His life story... God teaching me that at some point We all Walk the Way of the Cross!!!!
(If we are to be any part of the Body of Christ that is!)
Once years and years ago I helped run Vacation Bible Schools for Trinity Church in Newport. An assistant priest at the time and myself would discuss each Spring my willingness to help the church put together children's programming for their VBS. It was a volunteer position for a week. I often felt as time came upon us..."Perhaps this summer I shall take it off completely... just rest." And each year I found myself in Fr. Dave's office discussing the theme of this year's camp once again. One year I related my tiredness to him. I told him I was thinking that God might have had enough of my work and to maybe give someone else a try! He asked me why then, was I sitting before him? My reply was that although I have never earned enough financially to give in the way I'd like too, I felt my stewardship was the least I could. (Mind you, Trinity was not my parish, nor my confirmed faith.) I told him that I get a special joy and confirmation of God's messages after teaching/preaching when I relate God's stories to children. I told him somewhere along the way I learned how to express God's message to children. Dave laughed at me... he said, "Dawn, you can run, but you can't hide from God!" Of course, I agreed and said that none of us can. He went on to tell me that he himself questioned his going into the priesthood. He told me that he really thought it the last occupation he would choose... although God had other plans. He said, "Don't worry... God finds you and better yet.. He WAITS for you!" Hmmm... indeed he was correct. I thought I had given my last Good Friday Camp- I was wrong!
This year's Good Friday Camp ran as a well-oiled machine. It should, I have been doing it for about 5 or 6 years. The efforts of preparation for it remind me of the 6 weeks of Lent as we prepare for our walk with Jesus. There is lots to do... lists to create, supplies to gather, quiet reflection, selection of help for the event. It doesn't seem to get old either! (Although, I am!) The kids are just as enthused ... the story hasn't changed in 2000 years... and technology has not moved it into a new place of media hype.
This year however brought some differences for me. The building changed .. the teachers changed .... some of the kids changed ...but the message remained the same. And really, I didn't change! God, found me in all my shortcomings and plopped me right back to a place where I can change the world again! Incredible. Talk about redemption!
For me, Good Friday this year wasn't just about a day's agenda to plow through with 40 friends. It held much deeper significance. It was truly a walk through Jesus' last week of strife and conflict. It was a reminder to me that even Jesus was revered as a hero on Palm Sunday and crucified 5 days later! It hurt to know that His people would spare a murderer over him. His best friend would deny him. Another close friend turns him in for a few coins, and the rest fall asleep on him! It was sad really to watch Peter try to act in violence in Jesus' name when really just minutes later he wouldn't begin to not know anything about Jesus or His ministry. It especially hurt to watch his friends, one by one, save their own asses, and hide just when he needed them most! It further hurt to consider how folks ridiculed him, teased him, accused him of lying and mayhem, and better yet were so incredibly jealous of him that they would go to any measure to make sure no one knew of him anymore... allow His light to shine! I actually choked back tears after relating this to my young friends. I knew EXACTLY how all of these things felt! Truly. And yet, I was not facing death on a cross. I already had.
These feelings began early that morning. I had a flash of all the horror before I even got to the camp. I found myself uttering, "Father, please forgive them for they know not what they have done," in the Stop-n-Shop with my 3.5 year old nephew going into his first Good Friday Camp! "What you saying Aunt Dew?" I just mumbled, "Nothing..." and that he should help me pick up the proverbial Cross, (the themed snack made from Ritz crackers and Cheeze-Whiz), with me and continue on to Golgotha!
Good Friday Camp, to me, (I have joked for years), is my "penance". I speak for 5 hours straight... haha.. I know... and TRUST me it does exhaust me! As we began the tedious task of painting all 14 stations.. I began to wonder about my own 2mile walk to the hill. I wondered about how I have dropped my cross 3x! (or more!) I remembered a kind woman, (many), handing me a towel along the way to wipe my face. I was hoping I left a lasting memory with her too at some point in my tenure. I felt for Simon , a strange man in a strange land being forced into a situation that he knew nothing about.. fearing that helping this rebel would lead him into a early grave. Instead good things came to Simon, besides his conversion! I thought of those continuing to revile Christ along the way... taunting him with remarks..."You deserve everything you got!"... "This is your karma!"... "Go back to Florida ... I mean Nazareth, where you belong!" and I wondered how it felt for Him when He knew he wasn't a Blasphemer.
As I was on the walk to Golgotha thoughts about the events were racing through my head. I think about how Pontius Pilot was put in a precarious situation and how cleverly he tried to get the people to choose Jesus over Barabbas. Pilot was a smart and clever military man.. he knew that Jesus was not a real threat.. (which meant he was secure in his power). Surely, he could blind the Jewish people by convincing them that a Barabbas out walking the streets was a far cry from a Jesus professing peace and equality.. favoring the unique and meek of this world... and yet, his plan backfired. He too was looking for Jesus to confess to a sin he did not commit to make it easy upon himself, and thus the decision was placed in the hands of the scared and fear filled! Death is an inevitable outcome in a tug of war.
They stripped Jesus of his belongings. They played a game to keep his things. Heirlooms made from his Mother just scattered about the few who could've cared less for the "seamless" labor and love of how they were made. The feeling as though they somehow "deserved" these items. Jesus however, never blinked an eye in the end. He continued to help the grief stricken. Those that could not be healed. He assured the many heartbroken, that in fact, He would come again. He told the children he loved them. They meant the most to Him. The 2 criminals on either side of Him were even interested in His story. One in fact told Him he believed, and asked Jesus if there was a place for him in Heaven.... Jesus invited him along for the ride.
As we remember, His best friend Mary, John, the Disciple he loved the most, and his Mother stood beside Him in his final hours. Thankfully God did not allow the struggle to last forever. It was a quick death! Jesus' body was laid to rest by a kind and giving man named Joseph. He had followed Jesus, and felt that Jesus deserved a place to rest. A new cave... this time not one inhabited by animals in which he first came into this world. It was a prelude to new life.
The rest we know to be History! The rise 3days later that Mary Magdalene was witness to let us all know that out of darkness comes light! No one can keep us in a cave, no matter how large the stone. God has work for us to do and we must keep our attention on that work and let God continue to resurrect us into the light of a new day. The Disciples were called to believe that Jesus had come back- they were invited to touch and see a Risen Jesus!
Hallelujah, Hallelujah He is Risen!
Happy Easter,
Miss Dawn
Well, another Good Friday is behind us. Once again, (and reluctantly), I offered my annual Good Friday Camp to wee people. A day to truly walk with Christ during his final hours. This past year, I have been somewhat out of the direct spotlight of Christ...or so I thought. Not teaching Sunday School or Chapel for about 9 months brought me to a new way of being with God. There were moments this past year where I questioned my own walk with Christ. I began wondering if my service had expired. However it did not take long before God picked me up and began to utilize my God-given talent in teaching folks about His life story... God teaching me that at some point We all Walk the Way of the Cross!!!!
(If we are to be any part of the Body of Christ that is!)
Once years and years ago I helped run Vacation Bible Schools for Trinity Church in Newport. An assistant priest at the time and myself would discuss each Spring my willingness to help the church put together children's programming for their VBS. It was a volunteer position for a week. I often felt as time came upon us..."Perhaps this summer I shall take it off completely... just rest." And each year I found myself in Fr. Dave's office discussing the theme of this year's camp once again. One year I related my tiredness to him. I told him I was thinking that God might have had enough of my work and to maybe give someone else a try! He asked me why then, was I sitting before him? My reply was that although I have never earned enough financially to give in the way I'd like too, I felt my stewardship was the least I could. (Mind you, Trinity was not my parish, nor my confirmed faith.) I told him that I get a special joy and confirmation of God's messages after teaching/preaching when I relate God's stories to children. I told him somewhere along the way I learned how to express God's message to children. Dave laughed at me... he said, "Dawn, you can run, but you can't hide from God!" Of course, I agreed and said that none of us can. He went on to tell me that he himself questioned his going into the priesthood. He told me that he really thought it the last occupation he would choose... although God had other plans. He said, "Don't worry... God finds you and better yet.. He WAITS for you!" Hmmm... indeed he was correct. I thought I had given my last Good Friday Camp- I was wrong!
This year's Good Friday Camp ran as a well-oiled machine. It should, I have been doing it for about 5 or 6 years. The efforts of preparation for it remind me of the 6 weeks of Lent as we prepare for our walk with Jesus. There is lots to do... lists to create, supplies to gather, quiet reflection, selection of help for the event. It doesn't seem to get old either! (Although, I am!) The kids are just as enthused ... the story hasn't changed in 2000 years... and technology has not moved it into a new place of media hype.
This year however brought some differences for me. The building changed .. the teachers changed .... some of the kids changed ...but the message remained the same. And really, I didn't change! God, found me in all my shortcomings and plopped me right back to a place where I can change the world again! Incredible. Talk about redemption!
For me, Good Friday this year wasn't just about a day's agenda to plow through with 40 friends. It held much deeper significance. It was truly a walk through Jesus' last week of strife and conflict. It was a reminder to me that even Jesus was revered as a hero on Palm Sunday and crucified 5 days later! It hurt to know that His people would spare a murderer over him. His best friend would deny him. Another close friend turns him in for a few coins, and the rest fall asleep on him! It was sad really to watch Peter try to act in violence in Jesus' name when really just minutes later he wouldn't begin to not know anything about Jesus or His ministry. It especially hurt to watch his friends, one by one, save their own asses, and hide just when he needed them most! It further hurt to consider how folks ridiculed him, teased him, accused him of lying and mayhem, and better yet were so incredibly jealous of him that they would go to any measure to make sure no one knew of him anymore... allow His light to shine! I actually choked back tears after relating this to my young friends. I knew EXACTLY how all of these things felt! Truly. And yet, I was not facing death on a cross. I already had.
These feelings began early that morning. I had a flash of all the horror before I even got to the camp. I found myself uttering, "Father, please forgive them for they know not what they have done," in the Stop-n-Shop with my 3.5 year old nephew going into his first Good Friday Camp! "What you saying Aunt Dew?" I just mumbled, "Nothing..." and that he should help me pick up the proverbial Cross, (the themed snack made from Ritz crackers and Cheeze-Whiz), with me and continue on to Golgotha!
Good Friday Camp, to me, (I have joked for years), is my "penance". I speak for 5 hours straight... haha.. I know... and TRUST me it does exhaust me! As we began the tedious task of painting all 14 stations.. I began to wonder about my own 2mile walk to the hill. I wondered about how I have dropped my cross 3x! (or more!) I remembered a kind woman, (many), handing me a towel along the way to wipe my face. I was hoping I left a lasting memory with her too at some point in my tenure. I felt for Simon , a strange man in a strange land being forced into a situation that he knew nothing about.. fearing that helping this rebel would lead him into a early grave. Instead good things came to Simon, besides his conversion! I thought of those continuing to revile Christ along the way... taunting him with remarks..."You deserve everything you got!"... "This is your karma!"... "Go back to Florida ... I mean Nazareth, where you belong!" and I wondered how it felt for Him when He knew he wasn't a Blasphemer.
As I was on the walk to Golgotha thoughts about the events were racing through my head. I think about how Pontius Pilot was put in a precarious situation and how cleverly he tried to get the people to choose Jesus over Barabbas. Pilot was a smart and clever military man.. he knew that Jesus was not a real threat.. (which meant he was secure in his power). Surely, he could blind the Jewish people by convincing them that a Barabbas out walking the streets was a far cry from a Jesus professing peace and equality.. favoring the unique and meek of this world... and yet, his plan backfired. He too was looking for Jesus to confess to a sin he did not commit to make it easy upon himself, and thus the decision was placed in the hands of the scared and fear filled! Death is an inevitable outcome in a tug of war.
They stripped Jesus of his belongings. They played a game to keep his things. Heirlooms made from his Mother just scattered about the few who could've cared less for the "seamless" labor and love of how they were made. The feeling as though they somehow "deserved" these items. Jesus however, never blinked an eye in the end. He continued to help the grief stricken. Those that could not be healed. He assured the many heartbroken, that in fact, He would come again. He told the children he loved them. They meant the most to Him. The 2 criminals on either side of Him were even interested in His story. One in fact told Him he believed, and asked Jesus if there was a place for him in Heaven.... Jesus invited him along for the ride.
As we remember, His best friend Mary, John, the Disciple he loved the most, and his Mother stood beside Him in his final hours. Thankfully God did not allow the struggle to last forever. It was a quick death! Jesus' body was laid to rest by a kind and giving man named Joseph. He had followed Jesus, and felt that Jesus deserved a place to rest. A new cave... this time not one inhabited by animals in which he first came into this world. It was a prelude to new life.
The rest we know to be History! The rise 3days later that Mary Magdalene was witness to let us all know that out of darkness comes light! No one can keep us in a cave, no matter how large the stone. God has work for us to do and we must keep our attention on that work and let God continue to resurrect us into the light of a new day. The Disciples were called to believe that Jesus had come back- they were invited to touch and see a Risen Jesus!
Hallelujah, Hallelujah He is Risen!
Happy Easter,
Miss Dawn
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Off with their Heads!
I just came back from Tim Burton's "Alice in Wonderland". It was as I expected... dark and strangely real. Really, how can it be anything else coming from him?? I've never seen more head offing's by the largest head you've ever seen, 3D Reality, and even more grim, the search for the truth! Tackling your biggest fears and looking them straight on, or through the proverbial "looking glass", up close and magnified can scare anyone into not telling the Queen of Hearts that you ate her Tarts! I contemplated this spiritual journey so much today that I stopped at Barnes and Noble on my way home to pick up a copy of Alice's Wonderland... a blog is to come!
But for now.. the main event... and that is answering to sentences before the verdicts...as the Hatter is faced with... and unfortunately many of us in this lifetime.
The Mark Gospel tells the story about the fate of John the Baptist. His head was off'd!
In preparing a Sunday sermon, even for myself, I am forever perplexed as to how to handle delivering such a vulgar text to children... (I should just consult with Disney.. as they do it ALL the time!) Quite often I jump to a reading from the morning instead! Most Gospel readings are easily communicated to the young. At times, some lack the substance of a good tellable story. No meat in which to sink my story-telling brain into! Others can be too abstract and short... and yet I seem to make it through.. (quite often, and not intentionally, delivering the message through the child, who in turn tell the family who couldn't make heads or tales out of the sermon in "big church." ) And lastly, there is the Gospel story which really isn't tellable to children. (There are a few...) But for now, I am lucky to live in the moment of communicating my thoughts to the grown-up worshipper!
Refresher: John the Baptist= Cousin to Jesus through Mary, son of Elizabeth and Zacchariah (aging parents thought to be unable to conceive), reportedly born 6 months prior to Jesus' arrival. Elizabeth's womb lept when a pregnant Mary visited her, grows to be a great prophet, lives an ascetic life.. in the wilderness preaching about the coming of one greater than he, claims he baptises with water, while one greater than he will baptise with the fire! He is "wild and woolly".. dressed in his animal fur and eating locusts and honey .. greeting people in the river Jordan prophesying and cleaning them.. preaching loudly about what is to come.
Ok.. you remember now? The untellable part.. the beheading. A very gorey and gruesome telling by Mark, who transcribes from Simon-Peter, the manner in which John faces his death. John is critical of King Herod and his wife Herodia. They have an incestuous marriage that is also considered adulterous. (Now.. its getting good.. how on earth could this juicy story be communicated to children???) HE is quoting scripture and Jewish law that firmly spells out that what these two are doing is clearly wrong. He is not quiet about this! As well he shouldn't if one is considered a prophet. It is unclear however if Herodia's divorce from her husband.. (Herod's brother), to marry Herod is considered sinful in the eyes of theologians.. as a.) she did divorce him/lived separately from him and b.) could remarry if it so pleased her if that was the truthful case. The reality I'm afraid though, is that Herodia was also Herod's niece.. yuck. and found to be in a pleasing marriage previously to Phillip. Nothing wrong with him according to the story.. she just wanted another man. NO sign of his infidelity, unfaithful behavior. Supported her, cared for her, etc.. good husband.. she just wanted another man! Oh and yes.. which happened to be her husband's brother... another Jewish/Biblical No-No. (and Phillip was still alive!)John does not make this easy for them. He is prophet.. prophets are not quiet even to those in authority. Those of means and/or living the exact way they want never want to be questioned. They have large agendas to fulfill.. no one will stand in their way! We know what happens to those who prophesies and speak up.. one of 2 things.. they are the receivers of wheels full of grease or.. off with their head. We know John's fate. But there comes a time when the moment of truth is given to the executioner. Unlike Alice's tale, most of us do not know when that day will arrive.
"A prophet is a truth-teller and often governing authorities don't like a truth-teller telling the truth about them." "A prophet is one who speaks to those in power. A prophet usually gets into trouble for criticizing the governing authorities. Those authorities often imprison or kill that prophet in order to silence him. The prophet becomes a martyr.. one who dies for the faith." Interesting set of defining terms. A prophet is the proverbial, "whistle-blower".. one might say. All truthful to me... however..it is clearly up to the listener to decide who in fact is being employed to prophesies God's truth or their own! or Am I late? or is just a figure of my imagination??
The one called to say, "prepare the way of the Lord", however had no other agenda. He did his thing. He baptised folks in a river. He preached and shouted to all that would listen about the love that was near and here to save us all." He defended scripture, sure. But so did many Jewish officials and high priests. They just weren't "loud." Prophets are always loud.. they quite often get in trouble for "opening their big mouth"... exposing the injustice, telling the media the "real-deal." The punishment in society for calling a spade a spade is quite often a large one.. (unless you can afford high end counsel or decide that the exposition of the fake or defending of the truth is more important than your own welfare.)
Prophets don't lead a life they cover up. They wear what they want. Drive what they want. Live wherever they need too.. they lay it all out there... (As our friend Alice does. She quite often tells those around her who and what she is once she figures out that is what she is here to do.) They know what they are called to do. The deal they make to this is between them and their creator.. not for someone else's judgement. Whether or not they decided to give up a materialistic life is not a mystery. They certainly don't act duplicitous by "preaching one thing and living something different." If you were a prophet ... (and I believe we are all prophets on some level), and you choose to drive a a ride for "the people" then you should also own the fact that you do so to live in a home worth 2 millions dollars on the water. However, don't preach about poverty and service, and hide your assets aways! John didn't. He wore his craziness out in the public eye... as does the Mad Hatter... who isn't so mad ! He lived the way he thought God wanted him too.. he lived the way he could better hear the word of God...most importantly.
Herod liked John. That's the irony of the story. He enjoyed his preaching, his work with others. Thought him a holy man. Herodia on the other hand, did not! She had a mission in her mind and that was to remove that which caused her to examine her life and actions. (Our Queen). She couldn't by law do anything with John. (Unlike the Queen). She wasn't in the authority to do so. It wasn't until Herod "opened his big mouth" at a birthday, given by him, in his own honor, that prompted him to make a deal he couldn't get out of. Herodia's daughter gave a dance performance for her step-father.. one is led to believe it may have been promiscuous although scripture does not support this. How ever it was performed was so appealing to Herod that he in fact promises her anything at all that she may want.. boasting.. even half of what he owns! (Remember this promise is bellowed throughout a large party with many ears and eyes watching). Historically, Salome, (a name that is widely known but without evidence to be truth), asks her mother what it is she should ask for. Well.. Herodia can't resist but to ask for John the Baptist's head.. on a platter no less! Surely Herod cannot turn down a "deal" made in public. She manipulated her husband to do exactly her bidding in order to take care of a "loud mouth." How Herod must have felt. To be the one credited with killing the Baptiser! It may have been one thing had he really despised him. But, he didn't. A man of Herod's power and status could've eliminated him any time previous to this occasion had he felt threatened by his power. Herod was guilt ridden. He had no choice but to execute John. John's head was served up on the silver tray to Herodia as ordered by her to her daughter.
I write this story to you as someone who had a head-offer in their life.... was very influential in the direction or future of my life and fate. Someone who caused significant damage to me like Herodia does to John. Cut my head off so to speak. Ironically, this person, claimed publicly that they in fact they were here to do this work.. referring to themselves very loudly and openly, as "John the Baptist". "The wild and woolly beast sent in to shake things up.. be the loud mouth and prepare the way!" When in fact they were the Queen of Hearts. They were claiming to be a prophet. They were claiming the right to behave in a way because they were authorized by "God" to do so.
The story of Alice is one of opposites. One of questioning if the glass is half full or empty. Whether time is measured by the day or by the hour- it is story to help us believe that we are capable of doing 6 impossible things before breakfast everyday. Are we too big for the rabbit hole? Or, is he mad? or Am I?It is interesting- because they're are no clear answers and no, one Queen, who gets to pass judgement on others fates, eliminating those before they get too close to the truth! "Off with their heads"... "No soup for you" (Seinfeldian), mentality that really can affect us.
John's death did not put an end to his legacy. NO- in fact it helped him to become even bigger than who he was. He still does not hide his fate or his mission. Jesus still was the way after John's death. Jesus is still the way after his own head-offer did away with him! Alice found out that she needed to face her stuff head on. She was rocked with confusion about life and death throughout this story but when the blue caterpillar informs her that death is impossible and that transformation is always the next step she discovers that you no longer have anything to fear. She looks into the face of the deck/death and screams, "You are only a pack of cards!" She knows that one person's view isn't enough! It's YOUR reality that is real!
John knew who he was. So did Jesus. And in the end so did Alice!
The sequel to follow...
Mad as a Hatter in Newport
But for now.. the main event... and that is answering to sentences before the verdicts...as the Hatter is faced with... and unfortunately many of us in this lifetime.
The Mark Gospel tells the story about the fate of John the Baptist. His head was off'd!
In preparing a Sunday sermon, even for myself, I am forever perplexed as to how to handle delivering such a vulgar text to children... (I should just consult with Disney.. as they do it ALL the time!) Quite often I jump to a reading from the morning instead! Most Gospel readings are easily communicated to the young. At times, some lack the substance of a good tellable story. No meat in which to sink my story-telling brain into! Others can be too abstract and short... and yet I seem to make it through.. (quite often, and not intentionally, delivering the message through the child, who in turn tell the family who couldn't make heads or tales out of the sermon in "big church." ) And lastly, there is the Gospel story which really isn't tellable to children. (There are a few...) But for now, I am lucky to live in the moment of communicating my thoughts to the grown-up worshipper!
Refresher: John the Baptist= Cousin to Jesus through Mary, son of Elizabeth and Zacchariah (aging parents thought to be unable to conceive), reportedly born 6 months prior to Jesus' arrival. Elizabeth's womb lept when a pregnant Mary visited her, grows to be a great prophet, lives an ascetic life.. in the wilderness preaching about the coming of one greater than he, claims he baptises with water, while one greater than he will baptise with the fire! He is "wild and woolly".. dressed in his animal fur and eating locusts and honey .. greeting people in the river Jordan prophesying and cleaning them.. preaching loudly about what is to come.
Ok.. you remember now? The untellable part.. the beheading. A very gorey and gruesome telling by Mark, who transcribes from Simon-Peter, the manner in which John faces his death. John is critical of King Herod and his wife Herodia. They have an incestuous marriage that is also considered adulterous. (Now.. its getting good.. how on earth could this juicy story be communicated to children???) HE is quoting scripture and Jewish law that firmly spells out that what these two are doing is clearly wrong. He is not quiet about this! As well he shouldn't if one is considered a prophet. It is unclear however if Herodia's divorce from her husband.. (Herod's brother), to marry Herod is considered sinful in the eyes of theologians.. as a.) she did divorce him/lived separately from him and b.) could remarry if it so pleased her if that was the truthful case. The reality I'm afraid though, is that Herodia was also Herod's niece.. yuck. and found to be in a pleasing marriage previously to Phillip. Nothing wrong with him according to the story.. she just wanted another man. NO sign of his infidelity, unfaithful behavior. Supported her, cared for her, etc.. good husband.. she just wanted another man! Oh and yes.. which happened to be her husband's brother... another Jewish/Biblical No-No. (and Phillip was still alive!)John does not make this easy for them. He is prophet.. prophets are not quiet even to those in authority. Those of means and/or living the exact way they want never want to be questioned. They have large agendas to fulfill.. no one will stand in their way! We know what happens to those who prophesies and speak up.. one of 2 things.. they are the receivers of wheels full of grease or.. off with their head. We know John's fate. But there comes a time when the moment of truth is given to the executioner. Unlike Alice's tale, most of us do not know when that day will arrive.
"A prophet is a truth-teller and often governing authorities don't like a truth-teller telling the truth about them." "A prophet is one who speaks to those in power. A prophet usually gets into trouble for criticizing the governing authorities. Those authorities often imprison or kill that prophet in order to silence him. The prophet becomes a martyr.. one who dies for the faith." Interesting set of defining terms. A prophet is the proverbial, "whistle-blower".. one might say. All truthful to me... however..it is clearly up to the listener to decide who in fact is being employed to prophesies God's truth or their own! or Am I late? or is just a figure of my imagination??
The one called to say, "prepare the way of the Lord", however had no other agenda. He did his thing. He baptised folks in a river. He preached and shouted to all that would listen about the love that was near and here to save us all." He defended scripture, sure. But so did many Jewish officials and high priests. They just weren't "loud." Prophets are always loud.. they quite often get in trouble for "opening their big mouth"... exposing the injustice, telling the media the "real-deal." The punishment in society for calling a spade a spade is quite often a large one.. (unless you can afford high end counsel or decide that the exposition of the fake or defending of the truth is more important than your own welfare.)
Prophets don't lead a life they cover up. They wear what they want. Drive what they want. Live wherever they need too.. they lay it all out there... (As our friend Alice does. She quite often tells those around her who and what she is once she figures out that is what she is here to do.) They know what they are called to do. The deal they make to this is between them and their creator.. not for someone else's judgement. Whether or not they decided to give up a materialistic life is not a mystery. They certainly don't act duplicitous by "preaching one thing and living something different." If you were a prophet ... (and I believe we are all prophets on some level), and you choose to drive a a ride for "the people" then you should also own the fact that you do so to live in a home worth 2 millions dollars on the water. However, don't preach about poverty and service, and hide your assets aways! John didn't. He wore his craziness out in the public eye... as does the Mad Hatter... who isn't so mad ! He lived the way he thought God wanted him too.. he lived the way he could better hear the word of God...most importantly.
Herod liked John. That's the irony of the story. He enjoyed his preaching, his work with others. Thought him a holy man. Herodia on the other hand, did not! She had a mission in her mind and that was to remove that which caused her to examine her life and actions. (Our Queen). She couldn't by law do anything with John. (Unlike the Queen). She wasn't in the authority to do so. It wasn't until Herod "opened his big mouth" at a birthday, given by him, in his own honor, that prompted him to make a deal he couldn't get out of. Herodia's daughter gave a dance performance for her step-father.. one is led to believe it may have been promiscuous although scripture does not support this. How ever it was performed was so appealing to Herod that he in fact promises her anything at all that she may want.. boasting.. even half of what he owns! (Remember this promise is bellowed throughout a large party with many ears and eyes watching). Historically, Salome, (a name that is widely known but without evidence to be truth), asks her mother what it is she should ask for. Well.. Herodia can't resist but to ask for John the Baptist's head.. on a platter no less! Surely Herod cannot turn down a "deal" made in public. She manipulated her husband to do exactly her bidding in order to take care of a "loud mouth." How Herod must have felt. To be the one credited with killing the Baptiser! It may have been one thing had he really despised him. But, he didn't. A man of Herod's power and status could've eliminated him any time previous to this occasion had he felt threatened by his power. Herod was guilt ridden. He had no choice but to execute John. John's head was served up on the silver tray to Herodia as ordered by her to her daughter.
I write this story to you as someone who had a head-offer in their life.... was very influential in the direction or future of my life and fate. Someone who caused significant damage to me like Herodia does to John. Cut my head off so to speak. Ironically, this person, claimed publicly that they in fact they were here to do this work.. referring to themselves very loudly and openly, as "John the Baptist". "The wild and woolly beast sent in to shake things up.. be the loud mouth and prepare the way!" When in fact they were the Queen of Hearts. They were claiming to be a prophet. They were claiming the right to behave in a way because they were authorized by "God" to do so.
The story of Alice is one of opposites. One of questioning if the glass is half full or empty. Whether time is measured by the day or by the hour- it is story to help us believe that we are capable of doing 6 impossible things before breakfast everyday. Are we too big for the rabbit hole? Or, is he mad? or Am I?It is interesting- because they're are no clear answers and no, one Queen, who gets to pass judgement on others fates, eliminating those before they get too close to the truth! "Off with their heads"... "No soup for you" (Seinfeldian), mentality that really can affect us.
John's death did not put an end to his legacy. NO- in fact it helped him to become even bigger than who he was. He still does not hide his fate or his mission. Jesus still was the way after John's death. Jesus is still the way after his own head-offer did away with him! Alice found out that she needed to face her stuff head on. She was rocked with confusion about life and death throughout this story but when the blue caterpillar informs her that death is impossible and that transformation is always the next step she discovers that you no longer have anything to fear. She looks into the face of the deck/death and screams, "You are only a pack of cards!" She knows that one person's view isn't enough! It's YOUR reality that is real!
John knew who he was. So did Jesus. And in the end so did Alice!
The sequel to follow...
Mad as a Hatter in Newport
Saturday, March 6, 2010
"Bless her heart!"
I'm writin' y'all tonite about living in the South! Many of my friends have spent some time living just South of Newport, (if that is REALLY true!) Or, so they tell me! I have had the best time in my home away from home that I can sit here on this warm Saturday eve in late winter/early Spring dreaming about good ol' southern hospitality!
I love the South. I always thought one day I would live there. Once, years ago, I imagined honeymooning in New Orleans. (mind you, never been hitched). Scarlett O'Hara tells Rhett Butler when he asks her, "Scarlett would you ever marry for fun?" Her response.. "Fun for whom?" However, I began to think I could and should be residing there. It always appealed to me. The 80's brought on Steel Magnolias and JFK. Although, Burn Notice... sealed the deal for me! I wondered about attending worship services in the South, pretty dresses, and just enough gossip to intrigue even the most humble Christian! I wasn't wrong... except I thought I would love grits!
When I think of Southern living many interesting details immediately come to mind. Obviously the weather is glorious most of the year. It is like living in Spring, (my favorite season), ALL year... (although, the Tulips still only come out when they're supposed too.) With the exception of that blast of wilting humidity that arrives around late May/June, I have grown very fond of my southern hood. I quickly figured out that "their Summer is our Winter." My childhood friend Wayne lives in the Orlando area. When I asked him about the move to the South, he said, "Dawn, we just stay inside all Summer. October is perfect until May. No shoveling or outrageous heating bills.... c'mon down!" I thought... hmm... that's seems appealing enough. Go home for Christmas snow and be done! I spent much of last Summer there.. and honestly, he was right. Weather at this point in life does make a difference. I love the fact that my god Ra, begins sunning me around this very time, and ends before Thanksgiving. It's a wonderful thing, that Vitamin D !
Besides the temperature.. most importantly is the temperament! Good ol' southern hospitality! It took me a spell to g'it this one...Boy-Howdy... Sometimes I say.. yes.. indeed this is surely the place and other times...."um... speed it up, I could be dying tomorrow!" It is truth when folks tell ya that life is slower and nicer past the Mason-Dixon line. Being kind takes time!!!!
For example, I found a good hair salon finally , (let me define salon... one that is not in someones garage and sells products that have not been distilled in someones backyard!) Anyhow. I have pretty low-maintenance hair.(I am not a full on platinum blonde!) I go in for treatment about 3x a year. My usual appt here is not nearly 4 hours... okay.. let's be fair, perhaps, it was a slow rainy day or that the girl sensed my anxiety as I would much rather have a molar filled than be there.. but none the less.. in the North a filling and my hair usually take about the same amount of time... in the South, it is a personal day from work! I told myself that was okay as perhaps that is the "true mission" of a salon, a day of pampering!
The Publix.. a rather hip chain of grocery markets. (I much prefer to the Winn Dixie or the Piggly-whatever!) There motto, "Where shopping is a pleasure!" I have decided, is really a fact. The 2nd least favorite thing I hate besides the hair salon, is grocery shopping! Just can't stand the crowds and searching for what I need. Mostly though, it's the lugging of my purchases. Upon a rather large shopping excursion... without male company... I happened in the check-out line and I began to bag my own groceries. (comes naturally). Some poor clerk comes running over and quietly sates, "Ma'am what ever on earth are you doin'?" I am dumbfounded and explain that I am baggin' my supplies and I assure them that I intend to pay for them.. (haha) She looks up at me and says, "You're from the North aren't you?" Perhaps, my accent? Perhaps my buttoned up attire? Or simply my work ethic??(Over zealous and over worked way of living).
I sheepishly nodded and smiled... She said, "That's my job." I agreed to let go of this task, be a Belle, or a customer, and move ahead with my adventure. I was telling myself though, "Relax, and enjoy this, this is what woman do here in the South." No sooner had my bags been in the carriage, I place my hands upon the handle of the cart, and the clerk again states, "M'aam.. where can I take you?" "TAKE ME????" I respond and say " Um... no where my shopping is complete, thank you." She said, "Well then fine ma'am, allow me to walk you to your vehicle." She rips the cart from my hands and proceeds out into a 60 degree evening... I am thinking to myself... "Oh shit, do I have cash on me???? We get to the car and I slip her a few bucks and she looks at me as though I have now committed mortal sin..."No thank you ma'am we are not allowed to accept tips. Is this your vehicle? Please pop the hatch for me." I am stopped dead in my tracks staring at her. "Keys ma'am?" I reach for the keys fumbling around in my handbag.. get the car open and I watch her LOAD the groceries into the car!!!!!! I am grateful, but thinking a million thoughts right now.. "Why can't it be snowing? Why can't it be 10 degree wind chill? Whatever happened to Almacs on Bellevue Avenue???"
I sat in the car. I stopped and I watched her retrieve other carriages in the lot scattered here and there and I said.. " THAT's WHY they don't have a carriage depot!!!!!" Okay.. I am officially loving the South! I only wish they had her drive home with you so you could walk those bags up 2 flights of stairs! Oh well...small southern baby steps!
The Suite of lovely Spanish-style, stucco apartments I stay in has a paperboy... if you will. It reminds me of the old show Melrose Place. This place is located on a main strip similar to Thames Street. Paper-people are almost non-existent in cities, and they certainly don't ride bicycles and hum a paper at your door to deliver the morning news... no it is far better than that. There is a paper boy who comes to call at 6am faithfully and the reason I know this is because his beat up pick up truck comes barreling into the complex exactly at dawn and is playing music I would normally find exciting exactly 12 hours later! After the first few mornings of thinking a neighbor had a really loud TV or little kids, I realized that this is how he woke his clients to the delivery of the days' news! Then it became exciting! What would today be???? Def Leopard?,Skynryd?, Styx?, ACDC?, ZZ Top?.. a southern rockers dream reveille! Then Sunday came. The southern hospitality was even present in our paperboy... I lay there, it's quiet as you would imagine on Sunday, 6am.. and I detect a familiar melody...." We've only just begun.. white lace and promises.. " I lay head faced down in my pillow smiling! And softly sing, "A kiss for luck and we're on our way!" I giggled so hard that I was even now loving our paperboy even though my head was still rocking from the Disco 70's band the evening before."
Life in the South is really forgiving.
Many other instances remind me that I like this way of living as, "You are the customer, the little lady, the girl in need of a 4 hour salon treatment and lovingly referred to as "Sugar"...except for the times when I hear, "Bless her heart!" Well. let me say.. when YOU are the one who is the recipient of heart blessing! Well... thankfully years ago, my friend John educated me on this one! John, a friend and colleague, would often use the expression, "Bless her heart!" during times when we were speaking of someone who... well.. needed to be "blessed".
I guess!! Forever, I never knew what this meant, except, that" I" thought it meant his Christianity shining through! I always took to heart his kind blessings and wondered how on earth he could be, "blessing her??" Well. I did not need to spend years in Mobile, as he did, to understand what this truly meant! I had a good southern mentor! Again, just the South's way of being hospitable! (Even, if the grocery clerk said that to me on her way back from my car!)
I can see why people move there. I completely understand why folks HATE living here after being there. (The frigidity on all levels!) I can even see why the men are attracted to "Belledom"... although I TRULY struggle with that one! But, I can say that I have never been welcomed so graciously, treated so decently, and made-over...sometimes so fakishly, (WHO CARES!) then in the South! It is a nice place to visit and live. Where else can you get 10 months of Spring, $1.75 Sam Adams drafts, $63 Dirty Martini's, Valentine's Dinner at a posh country club with the loveliest octogenarians, alcohol and popcorn at the local movie theatre, Indian grocery stores, and a Nascar watching boyfriend! The only thing missing is my platinum doo! (And that's only because I can't sit in the chair for 8 hours!!!)
Damsels in distress???.. maybe... however I have learned that this isn't the worse thing. The South is a flashback at times. It is a reminder that men are men and women are ladies.
We Yankee-chicks sometimes need reminding!
A girl gets used to her life in the South. My airport scenes now end something like this...
Scarlett: "Rhett, Rhett, - Rhett, where shall I ever go? What shall I do?"
Rhett Butler: "Frankly Scarlett, I don't give damn."
Scarlett: "Rhett, don't. I shall faint."
Rhett Butler: "I want you to faint. This is what you were meant for. None of the fools you've ever known have kissed you like this, have they? Your Charles, or your Frank, or your stupid Ashley!"
Scarlett: "Tara! Home. I'll go home. And I'll think of some way to get him back. After all... tomorrow is another day."
Bye y'all,
S. O'H
I love the South. I always thought one day I would live there. Once, years ago, I imagined honeymooning in New Orleans. (mind you, never been hitched). Scarlett O'Hara tells Rhett Butler when he asks her, "Scarlett would you ever marry for fun?" Her response.. "Fun for whom?" However, I began to think I could and should be residing there. It always appealed to me. The 80's brought on Steel Magnolias and JFK. Although, Burn Notice... sealed the deal for me! I wondered about attending worship services in the South, pretty dresses, and just enough gossip to intrigue even the most humble Christian! I wasn't wrong... except I thought I would love grits!
When I think of Southern living many interesting details immediately come to mind. Obviously the weather is glorious most of the year. It is like living in Spring, (my favorite season), ALL year... (although, the Tulips still only come out when they're supposed too.) With the exception of that blast of wilting humidity that arrives around late May/June, I have grown very fond of my southern hood. I quickly figured out that "their Summer is our Winter." My childhood friend Wayne lives in the Orlando area. When I asked him about the move to the South, he said, "Dawn, we just stay inside all Summer. October is perfect until May. No shoveling or outrageous heating bills.... c'mon down!" I thought... hmm... that's seems appealing enough. Go home for Christmas snow and be done! I spent much of last Summer there.. and honestly, he was right. Weather at this point in life does make a difference. I love the fact that my god Ra, begins sunning me around this very time, and ends before Thanksgiving. It's a wonderful thing, that Vitamin D !
Besides the temperature.. most importantly is the temperament! Good ol' southern hospitality! It took me a spell to g'it this one...Boy-Howdy... Sometimes I say.. yes.. indeed this is surely the place and other times...."um... speed it up, I could be dying tomorrow!" It is truth when folks tell ya that life is slower and nicer past the Mason-Dixon line. Being kind takes time!!!!
For example, I found a good hair salon finally , (let me define salon... one that is not in someones garage and sells products that have not been distilled in someones backyard!) Anyhow. I have pretty low-maintenance hair.(I am not a full on platinum blonde!) I go in for treatment about 3x a year. My usual appt here is not nearly 4 hours... okay.. let's be fair, perhaps, it was a slow rainy day or that the girl sensed my anxiety as I would much rather have a molar filled than be there.. but none the less.. in the North a filling and my hair usually take about the same amount of time... in the South, it is a personal day from work! I told myself that was okay as perhaps that is the "true mission" of a salon, a day of pampering!
The Publix.. a rather hip chain of grocery markets. (I much prefer to the Winn Dixie or the Piggly-whatever!) There motto, "Where shopping is a pleasure!" I have decided, is really a fact. The 2nd least favorite thing I hate besides the hair salon, is grocery shopping! Just can't stand the crowds and searching for what I need. Mostly though, it's the lugging of my purchases. Upon a rather large shopping excursion... without male company... I happened in the check-out line and I began to bag my own groceries. (comes naturally). Some poor clerk comes running over and quietly sates, "Ma'am what ever on earth are you doin'?" I am dumbfounded and explain that I am baggin' my supplies and I assure them that I intend to pay for them.. (haha) She looks up at me and says, "You're from the North aren't you?" Perhaps, my accent? Perhaps my buttoned up attire? Or simply my work ethic??(Over zealous and over worked way of living).
I sheepishly nodded and smiled... She said, "That's my job." I agreed to let go of this task, be a Belle, or a customer, and move ahead with my adventure. I was telling myself though, "Relax, and enjoy this, this is what woman do here in the South." No sooner had my bags been in the carriage, I place my hands upon the handle of the cart, and the clerk again states, "M'aam.. where can I take you?" "TAKE ME????" I respond and say " Um... no where my shopping is complete, thank you." She said, "Well then fine ma'am, allow me to walk you to your vehicle." She rips the cart from my hands and proceeds out into a 60 degree evening... I am thinking to myself... "Oh shit, do I have cash on me???? We get to the car and I slip her a few bucks and she looks at me as though I have now committed mortal sin..."No thank you ma'am we are not allowed to accept tips. Is this your vehicle? Please pop the hatch for me." I am stopped dead in my tracks staring at her. "Keys ma'am?" I reach for the keys fumbling around in my handbag.. get the car open and I watch her LOAD the groceries into the car!!!!!! I am grateful, but thinking a million thoughts right now.. "Why can't it be snowing? Why can't it be 10 degree wind chill? Whatever happened to Almacs on Bellevue Avenue???"
I sat in the car. I stopped and I watched her retrieve other carriages in the lot scattered here and there and I said.. " THAT's WHY they don't have a carriage depot!!!!!" Okay.. I am officially loving the South! I only wish they had her drive home with you so you could walk those bags up 2 flights of stairs! Oh well...small southern baby steps!
The Suite of lovely Spanish-style, stucco apartments I stay in has a paperboy... if you will. It reminds me of the old show Melrose Place. This place is located on a main strip similar to Thames Street. Paper-people are almost non-existent in cities, and they certainly don't ride bicycles and hum a paper at your door to deliver the morning news... no it is far better than that. There is a paper boy who comes to call at 6am faithfully and the reason I know this is because his beat up pick up truck comes barreling into the complex exactly at dawn and is playing music I would normally find exciting exactly 12 hours later! After the first few mornings of thinking a neighbor had a really loud TV or little kids, I realized that this is how he woke his clients to the delivery of the days' news! Then it became exciting! What would today be???? Def Leopard?,Skynryd?, Styx?, ACDC?, ZZ Top?.. a southern rockers dream reveille! Then Sunday came. The southern hospitality was even present in our paperboy... I lay there, it's quiet as you would imagine on Sunday, 6am.. and I detect a familiar melody...." We've only just begun.. white lace and promises.. " I lay head faced down in my pillow smiling! And softly sing, "A kiss for luck and we're on our way!" I giggled so hard that I was even now loving our paperboy even though my head was still rocking from the Disco 70's band the evening before."
Life in the South is really forgiving.
Many other instances remind me that I like this way of living as, "You are the customer, the little lady, the girl in need of a 4 hour salon treatment and lovingly referred to as "Sugar"...except for the times when I hear, "Bless her heart!" Well. let me say.. when YOU are the one who is the recipient of heart blessing! Well... thankfully years ago, my friend John educated me on this one! John, a friend and colleague, would often use the expression, "Bless her heart!" during times when we were speaking of someone who... well.. needed to be "blessed".
I guess!! Forever, I never knew what this meant, except, that" I" thought it meant his Christianity shining through! I always took to heart his kind blessings and wondered how on earth he could be, "blessing her??" Well. I did not need to spend years in Mobile, as he did, to understand what this truly meant! I had a good southern mentor! Again, just the South's way of being hospitable! (Even, if the grocery clerk said that to me on her way back from my car!)
I can see why people move there. I completely understand why folks HATE living here after being there. (The frigidity on all levels!) I can even see why the men are attracted to "Belledom"... although I TRULY struggle with that one! But, I can say that I have never been welcomed so graciously, treated so decently, and made-over...sometimes so fakishly, (WHO CARES!) then in the South! It is a nice place to visit and live. Where else can you get 10 months of Spring, $1.75 Sam Adams drafts, $63 Dirty Martini's, Valentine's Dinner at a posh country club with the loveliest octogenarians, alcohol and popcorn at the local movie theatre, Indian grocery stores, and a Nascar watching boyfriend! The only thing missing is my platinum doo! (And that's only because I can't sit in the chair for 8 hours!!!)
Damsels in distress???.. maybe... however I have learned that this isn't the worse thing. The South is a flashback at times. It is a reminder that men are men and women are ladies.
We Yankee-chicks sometimes need reminding!
A girl gets used to her life in the South. My airport scenes now end something like this...
Scarlett: "Rhett, Rhett, - Rhett, where shall I ever go? What shall I do?"
Rhett Butler: "Frankly Scarlett, I don't give damn."
Scarlett: "Rhett, don't. I shall faint."
Rhett Butler: "I want you to faint. This is what you were meant for. None of the fools you've ever known have kissed you like this, have they? Your Charles, or your Frank, or your stupid Ashley!"
Scarlett: "Tara! Home. I'll go home. And I'll think of some way to get him back. After all... tomorrow is another day."
Bye y'all,
S. O'H
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Son of a Preacher Man
"The only boy who could ever teach me, was the son of a preacher man.. the only boy who could ever reach me.. was the son of a preacher man. Yes, he was, he was. Oh yes, he was!"
Some of you may know who I speak of. And some may not. I am preaching today about my dearest friend, Greg Cole. He is, in fact, the son of preacher man. And in fact the only one who could ever reach me or teach me, for that matter !
Most of you know how Greg's legendary words are used to describe God and Spirit, interpret the bible in a fashion that allows the modern man to comprehend and relate. In fact, some of you may miss those words terribly! I know I did, until I received the privilege this past weekend to once again be mesmerized and literally dazzled by his God-speak.
This blog is about you, Preacher Boy! ("PB") The man formerly known as Preacher Boy... and well, is today. This sermon's for you kid....
This past weekend in a visit to the very hip city, (really), of Jacksonville, Florida, I had the rare opportunity to sit in on 3 services in an Episcopal parish located in a very affluent section of Jax. These were no ordinary church services to me, as I was there to listen to PB preach a rather deep and energized message about affordable and decent housing to the hardworking people of Jax. You see, PB is no longer a collar-carrying preacher, he is the Sr. Development Officer and Interim Director of Development for HabiJax... a cute word for Habitat for Humanity of Jacksonville. Probably the largest non-profit organization in Jax, and certainly,within the top 3 of the largest Habitat affiliates in the United States. Greg, was hired to reach the faith communities about giving, so as the hardworking man in Jax could receive "a hand up and not a hand out!"
WOW! Talk about God directing our lives!
Anyway, Greg informed me weeks ago about his preaching at St. Mark's. He was incredibly excited and ready to get back in front of the people again. Well. Let's be clear, the Episcopal folk! Greg has been preaching all over Jax for some months now. Every faith imaginable! (We even attended a "mega-church" this weekend!!!) But, when PB was asked to deliver the sermons for the 3 services on his home turf he more than jumped at the opportunity! As, for me, it was like going home! Preparing for this a week in advance, he angled me in every way as to how he would connect covenants, plead Luke, and justify Genesis! Ahhhh.. the old days!
We talked, and he taught me. He found every free moment to run some piece of scripture he could weave together by me. He sat at at his house of writing worship, St. Arbucks, and poured his heart and soul into his work. Although, not for him, but for the college boy, and others like Thomas, who grew up in a Habijax home and is studying to become a prosecuting attorney! He wrote that sermon for the homeless, the needy and the lost. He wrote it so that the common man could come terms with how God does enter into covenants with all of us!
So that more, " Thomas' ", Will see and Believe!
PB got up with the same spring in his step. He got up actually several times through the evening to perfect his story. He was a preacher in need of God's people. He needed to get his message into the hands of those that cared, and to do it on his playing field, gave him the home team advantage.
Our triple header was like Opening Day! It was a crisp and clear morning. The kind of morning that reminds you that you are alive and not just freeze dried. A 7:30 service, and after some "thee's and thou's" we were up to bat! PB decided against the purple Lenten tie and went right into red! He would invoke the deity with his passion. And so with home team advantage he took his first swing. I sat in the stands and I white knuckled my service leaflet... it was like watching someone come off the injured list. He got off the bench, and I closed my eyes, and waited. The pitch, and the hit!
As I sat in pool of nervous wetness, ( I was doubting my Tom's that day!) I noticed the most intriguing sign. The chapel-like building was host to a stained glassed system of Jesus' life cycle... Nativity to Pentecost. I open my eyes upon the chills rising up through me, I look at PB. He is on fire... literally!!! His hands appealing to the crowd. The perfect pauses and pleas. The immanent smile. The red aura all around him! PB was standing directly beneath the window of God sending the Holy Spirit to his disciples. Jesus' was represented in garments of flowing red. The east rising sun was illuminating this image so brightly that I hardly knew the difference of where the spirit was! It was pouring down threw Greg's head and around his body... The hue was as bright as the window. I was astounded as to the image. I then looked at the series of windows before home plate. The former was, Easter Day and further down, the Cruxifiction. It all made perfect sense to me.
I watched the crowd afterwards wanting to touch "his" garments. They, as I, were moved by the power of the spirit. They lined up to help and hear more. They lined up to ask and be healed. And yet, there was no one in that room more healed than the one who was speaking in tongues!!! I shed a small tear after the 7am sermon. Although, the third game was clearly the one he came to play.The 11am seats more fans, however the sun had moved and the window was normalized as the others now. PB took the spirit of redemption in hours before. He had knocked one out of the park for the Big Guy! But, more importantly for himself. He was no longer a Thomas, but fighting for one!
I am more convinced than ever that our truest callings and healing are God's way of letting us know, that in fact, no matter the circumstances, we all have jobs to do! God is the umpire in every game! His calls are the ones we wait for at home plate.
God's Will be done... no one can stop that! Let no man put asunder. (Even ourselves!)
PB is back in the fields! He is more alive and charismatic than he has ever been. It made me tear up to be at his opening day!
And ps... I love the new uniform!
Love, Dusty
Some of you may know who I speak of. And some may not. I am preaching today about my dearest friend, Greg Cole. He is, in fact, the son of preacher man. And in fact the only one who could ever reach me or teach me, for that matter !
Most of you know how Greg's legendary words are used to describe God and Spirit, interpret the bible in a fashion that allows the modern man to comprehend and relate. In fact, some of you may miss those words terribly! I know I did, until I received the privilege this past weekend to once again be mesmerized and literally dazzled by his God-speak.
This blog is about you, Preacher Boy! ("PB") The man formerly known as Preacher Boy... and well, is today. This sermon's for you kid....
This past weekend in a visit to the very hip city, (really), of Jacksonville, Florida, I had the rare opportunity to sit in on 3 services in an Episcopal parish located in a very affluent section of Jax. These were no ordinary church services to me, as I was there to listen to PB preach a rather deep and energized message about affordable and decent housing to the hardworking people of Jax. You see, PB is no longer a collar-carrying preacher, he is the Sr. Development Officer and Interim Director of Development for HabiJax... a cute word for Habitat for Humanity of Jacksonville. Probably the largest non-profit organization in Jax, and certainly,within the top 3 of the largest Habitat affiliates in the United States. Greg, was hired to reach the faith communities about giving, so as the hardworking man in Jax could receive "a hand up and not a hand out!"
WOW! Talk about God directing our lives!
Anyway, Greg informed me weeks ago about his preaching at St. Mark's. He was incredibly excited and ready to get back in front of the people again. Well. Let's be clear, the Episcopal folk! Greg has been preaching all over Jax for some months now. Every faith imaginable! (We even attended a "mega-church" this weekend!!!) But, when PB was asked to deliver the sermons for the 3 services on his home turf he more than jumped at the opportunity! As, for me, it was like going home! Preparing for this a week in advance, he angled me in every way as to how he would connect covenants, plead Luke, and justify Genesis! Ahhhh.. the old days!
We talked, and he taught me. He found every free moment to run some piece of scripture he could weave together by me. He sat at at his house of writing worship, St. Arbucks, and poured his heart and soul into his work. Although, not for him, but for the college boy, and others like Thomas, who grew up in a Habijax home and is studying to become a prosecuting attorney! He wrote that sermon for the homeless, the needy and the lost. He wrote it so that the common man could come terms with how God does enter into covenants with all of us!
So that more, " Thomas' ", Will see and Believe!
PB got up with the same spring in his step. He got up actually several times through the evening to perfect his story. He was a preacher in need of God's people. He needed to get his message into the hands of those that cared, and to do it on his playing field, gave him the home team advantage.
Our triple header was like Opening Day! It was a crisp and clear morning. The kind of morning that reminds you that you are alive and not just freeze dried. A 7:30 service, and after some "thee's and thou's" we were up to bat! PB decided against the purple Lenten tie and went right into red! He would invoke the deity with his passion. And so with home team advantage he took his first swing. I sat in the stands and I white knuckled my service leaflet... it was like watching someone come off the injured list. He got off the bench, and I closed my eyes, and waited. The pitch, and the hit!
As I sat in pool of nervous wetness, ( I was doubting my Tom's that day!) I noticed the most intriguing sign. The chapel-like building was host to a stained glassed system of Jesus' life cycle... Nativity to Pentecost. I open my eyes upon the chills rising up through me, I look at PB. He is on fire... literally!!! His hands appealing to the crowd. The perfect pauses and pleas. The immanent smile. The red aura all around him! PB was standing directly beneath the window of God sending the Holy Spirit to his disciples. Jesus' was represented in garments of flowing red. The east rising sun was illuminating this image so brightly that I hardly knew the difference of where the spirit was! It was pouring down threw Greg's head and around his body... The hue was as bright as the window. I was astounded as to the image. I then looked at the series of windows before home plate. The former was, Easter Day and further down, the Cruxifiction. It all made perfect sense to me.
I watched the crowd afterwards wanting to touch "his" garments. They, as I, were moved by the power of the spirit. They lined up to help and hear more. They lined up to ask and be healed. And yet, there was no one in that room more healed than the one who was speaking in tongues!!! I shed a small tear after the 7am sermon. Although, the third game was clearly the one he came to play.The 11am seats more fans, however the sun had moved and the window was normalized as the others now. PB took the spirit of redemption in hours before. He had knocked one out of the park for the Big Guy! But, more importantly for himself. He was no longer a Thomas, but fighting for one!
I am more convinced than ever that our truest callings and healing are God's way of letting us know, that in fact, no matter the circumstances, we all have jobs to do! God is the umpire in every game! His calls are the ones we wait for at home plate.
God's Will be done... no one can stop that! Let no man put asunder. (Even ourselves!)
PB is back in the fields! He is more alive and charismatic than he has ever been. It made me tear up to be at his opening day!
And ps... I love the new uniform!
Love, Dusty
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