Thursday, December 29, 2005
One aspect of Christmas in particular stood out to me this year, and it involved my once- or twice-per-year trip to Catholic mass. I grew up Roman Catholic, only to walk away in college and then walk halfway back to evangelicalism, but I still enjoy my occasional reconnections with the church of my youth.
This year was no exception. My parents are members at a large church in Dallas, and we went to the children's Christmas pageant for our Christmas Eve observance, which meant lots and lots of joyful noise.
For a staid, sober-minded Presbyterian such as myself, a mass offers lots of confusion--standing, sitting and kneeling, gesturing and genuflecting. Add a sanctuary full of kids to the mix and the cacophony grows louder. But the loudest moments of the mass were actually the most unified--the Nicene Creed and the Lord's Prayer.
I was overwhelmed by the Nicene Creed, which involves among other things the statement "We believe in one God." The Creed doesn't care who's listening, it simply speaks the truth loud and in one voice. Here was a room full of people speaking truth defiantly--even if they didn't believe what they were saying.
Behold the power of a creed. It transcends the whims of the culture that inherits it. I am many things, but I'm no island, and the creed reminds me that no matter how defiantly I declare that the church is what I make of it, I'm still a passenger on a boat that is bigger than myself.
The Lord's Prayer completes the portrait. After such a bold statement of defiance, the gathered mass joins hands and prays together the prayer that Jesus taught us: "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us." We are defiant of the world but submissive to our Father in heaven. And we're all in it together.
The word mass itself suggests a lot of noise. Whenever you get a mass of people together, even the whispers of pairs join together into a rumble. And when all those pairs and all that rumbling begin to form a coherent, articulate statement, whether one of defiance or one of submission, almost anything can happen.
I won't go to mass again for months--perhaps even for more than a year. But in the meantime I can pray for a church that speaks to its world and its God in one big voice soon. One God, forever and ever, amen.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
The apostle Paul sums up this prayer nicely for us: "In him we live and move and have our being." Hope you enjoy it.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Community life is by definition a life of cooperation and responsibility.
Private life and public life, without the disciplines of community interest,
necessarily gravitate toward competition and exploitation. As private life casts
off all community restraints in the interest of economic exploitation or
ambition or self-realization or whatever, the communal supports of public life
also and by the same stroke are undercut, and public life becomes simply the
arena of unrestrained private ambition and greed.
Friday, December 16, 2005
I'm reminded of a talk I recently heard that explored several facets of postmodernity, one of them being the "hermeneutic of suspicion"--fancy talk for "ironic cynicism." It takes a letter like this to see the cultural subtext of Santa Claus, but it's the sort of letter that trips up people with no sense of irony. Of course, people with no sense of irony reading an ironic letter like this is as entertaining to an ironic cynic as anything else.
If you have no sense of irony, my apologies.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
I've liked the idea of Loud Time for a Long Time. I come from a subculture that puts a lot of emphasis on the Quiet Time as the critical ingredient for spiritual growth. That's all well and good, except that you can only effectively be quiet in isolation, and while occasional isolation is a good thing, most of life is lived in real time with real people.
Enter Loud Time! In this blog I'll blather away about virtually anything, but my chief aim is to borrow wisdom from others and extend both the range and the depth of my relationships. If Loud Time is anything, it is a conviction that God abides with us even when we are not alone--which is perhaps a novel concept--and even when we are not quiet--which is perhaps a controversial subject. We grow together, which to my mind is how God intended it.
What follows is an excerpt from the Winter 2021 edition of Middling, my quarterly newsletter on music, books, work, and getting older. I'...
The Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great American Dust Bowl by Timothy Egan My rating: 3 of 5 stars My job i...
Every now and then I come out of my shell and risk ridicule by suggesting, ever so softly, that in the pantheon of the Marvel Entertainment ...