Into the Woods

Everything moves so...quickly these days. We've been robbed of things like excitement and anticipation. Noticing the little things is a lost art. We exist in the temporary, the instant. We measure a person or a place by how quickly and fully they meet our desires. The intricacies of self belong to a generation past as we are fully dependent on someone or something to tell us how to think and what to feel.

How can we seize a day when our hands are so full of...stuff?

I sat on the edge of my bed for hours last night...as dark gave way to light. As I sat in my trance, I was absolutely floored at the thought that God might actually exist. I know that sounds weird, because I'm in the ministry. But I'm so guilty of turning God into another trivial trinket that fits neatly into my electronic organizer. 

Somewhere along the way, I traded the God of the universe for a good luck charm. My prayer life has been a joke. My prayers have consisted of little more than requests for easy relationships and a fix to the great "tragedies" of my existence. Prayer should be the means to a deep relationship with God, and instead my prayers are just an attempt to convince myself that I still believe in something.

I am a zombie. I walk through each day in comatose apathy, waiting for it to end so the next one can begin. No real sense of direction, no rhyme nor reason. Just...blank. 

I have no idea how long I sat there until my mind could not bear to be awake any longer. I slept hard, never really asleep and never really awake. I dreamt of strange things, of clocks and closets. I stirred awake at some point, and I was filled with this overwhelming sense of...desire. 

I desire simplicity. I want to be rid of this life of Bluetooth and Blackberries, of $5 lattes and iPhones. The world rushes by as we vie for high-speed this, and 3G that. But this time we wish away is the greatest gift and opportunity we could ever hope for.

God provides us with the means and opportunity to live a fulfilling life. But what of the motivation? I have ignored the gifts I've been given in exchange for self-pity and doubt. I have let my fear consume me and placated it with possessions.

I know God exists because I exist. I know He loves because I love. I know he is good, because I am capable of great good. I don't want to just be alive...I want to LIVE.

Imagine what it would be like to savor a moment? To replace a text message with a kiss? How would it be to enjoy a cup of tea with a friend as opposed to a series of emails? What if we turned off the TV for a night and just enjoyed each other? When is the last time we spoke of dreams, or fears, or passions? When is the last time you thought of being an astronaut or slaying a dragon?

It has been too long. Too long since I took a walk in the rain, or hugged someone instead of offering a weak-hearted handshake. I want to see every second of my life as the most valuable thing I have. 

Carpe Diem - seize the day.

I'll leave you in the capable hands of Thoreau:

"I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

So it goes...

-B

To Pan

I am sickened by your name. Disgusted at the thought of you.

Do not regard me as friend nor equal. I want not my name spoken in the same breath as yours. No...we are different creatures alltogther.

You are a coward. A liar. You are Peter Pan...a dagger at your waist and empty promises on your lips. You fly around with so much swagger and keep a great company of boys. They, a group of mortals even weaker than you...idolize their boy-king with sickening dedication.

You wish and you want, you talk and you flaunt. You speak of love yet you have never felt its burden. You speak of pain yet you have never felt its true sting. And speak not of sacrifice, imposter. For there again, you know not of what you speak.

Enjoy your idleness. Commit yourself to nothing. Promise your strength to no one. Taste and leave, kiss and fly away.

Leave the work to me, boy. For I am Hood. Leave the danger to Robin and his few men. We will fight the battles that you walked away from. We will stand our ground where you have run. We will slay the dragon where you have pissed in your pants. I will rescue the raven-haired beauty. I will take from those who have taken. I will right the wrongs you wrought. 

You enjoy your bountiful Neverland, Pan. As I will enjoy the cold simplicity of my camp. You enjoy the fleeting allegiance of Lost Boys. As I will enjoy the brotherhood of warriors. 

So you go, child. You go and you play and you waste your life away. You do whatever puts a smile on your pretty little face and a giggle in your delicate throat. You live for yourself, enjoy your "freedom." You go ahead...piss away time and never grow up. Walk the path you have chosen and walk it well, boy. 

But should you someday feel the cold steel of my blade pressed to your neck...do not struggle. 

For you were beaten long ago.

-Hood

Home

'If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are a continuation of each of these people.' - Thich Nhat Hahn, Vietnamese Monk, Activist and Writer

I've noticed in my travels that a common personality trait among people with Celtic heritage is the desire to know one's genealogy. Both sides of my family trace our heritage to the Celtic Isles. To Scotland on one side (to the town of Kirkcudbright [kur-koo-bree] specifically) and to Ireland (to County Cork specifically) on the other. My family spent many hours researching our history, and I remember being so impressed at knowing my ancestors. It was almost kind of...satisfying.

Both sides of my family have very colourful histories. Alcoholics, Irish gypsies, horse thieves, corrupt politicians, even a train robber or two. Not all of my relatives were so infamous, however. My family has a long history of ministers and musicians. In fact, I'm directly related to the Irish Catholic Saint Faholain [foe-lan], the patron saint of the insane and mentally ill. Which should explain a lot!

My ancestors were the product of immigration and revolutions. There is an old Irish saying that goes, 'Those who rule write the history. Those who suffer write the music.' And for generations, my family has lived comfortably at the end of that saying.

As I've matured in my faith, I confess that my hunger for genealogy has worked its way into my spiritual self. I'm sure each of us can remember who first shined the light of Christ into our lives. But who minstered to that person? And who to them? And before them? Obviously, each of us would be able to trace our faith back to one of the Twelve, and ultimately to Christ himself. But especially today, I look to one man's ministry as a source of inspiration.

St. Padraig (or Anglicized as Patrick) was a British man who altered the course of history for the Celtic peoples. In Padraig's day, Ireland was a country of pagans who worshipped nature in simplistic ritual. I'll spare you the history lessons as those you can read on your own, but I will say a few words about his ministry.

In the Fourth and Fifth centuries of modernity, there would have been little available to Padraig with regard to ministry tools. We take for granted the availability of books, commentaries, articles, even printed Bibles. The Internet, for all its short-comings, has been instrumental in the construction and maintenance of today's Church. Padraig had a monumental calling in front of him - to bring the Gospel to the people of Ireland. He said this about his ministry, 'If I have any worth, it is to live my life for God so as to teach these peoples; even though some of them still look down on me.'

Padraig used simple metaphors to illustrate a complex faith. Perhaps his most famous was his use of the "seamrog" (Anglicized as shamrock, representing a loose pronunciation of the Irish word), a kind of clover native to Irish soil. The shamrock is a three-leafed old white clover that Padraig used to illustrate the Trinity. The shamrock is three parts in one, just as our Triune God. Three as one, equal but distinctly different.

Other missionaries to the Emerald Isle made mistakes in that they tried to immediately diffuse and remove any remnants of pagan practice. Missionaries would find a group of Celts gathered around a tree in worship, at which point these missionaries would admonish and rebuke the worshippers. Thus driving them further from the message of Christ. Padraig on the other hand, when he would find these meetings and rituals, would encourage the Celts to continue to meet at whatever day and time they normally would. But as opposed to worship of sun or forest, he taught them of the Saviour and of His desire for our worship. He gave them ideas and challenging lessons to discuss, and encouraged accountability and personal responsibility. Padraig essentially founded the first small group ministries in Ireland.

The Celts were a displaced people. For centuries they bounced from country to country, searching for home. And through his ministry and his connection to the Saviour, Padraig brought the Celtic people home. Padraig brings to light the true meaning of the 'ministry of reconciliation."

See, I think we miss the point of Saint Padraig's Day. We get caught up in the trappings of the holiday, as we do with every other. Today isn't about being Irish (or pretending to be!). Its not about green beer, nor corned beef, nor wearing the green. No, Saint Padraig's Day is really about faith. Today is about remembering where our faith comes from and responding in thankfulness to the God we serve.

Our lives are busy. We travel and work and worry. We get so caught up in life that we forget to live. What we must remember is that our faith is our home. Our faith is where we come from, and our faith is the place to where we always return. The challenge of the day is to find our home, and lead other people to theirs.

As we say in Irish, 'Nil aon tintean mar do thintean fein.' There's no place like home...

Happy Saint Padraig's Day to you and yours.

Sweet Old Pictures

Me [on the left], cousin TJ [center], and Slim [far right in awesome shorts] at Sandstone Mountain, WV in July 1990.

I just had to share the awesomeness of this photo. Went through a bunch of old pictures today and added some gems to my collection. See my MySpace or Facebook for more incriminating pictures. =)


So it goes...

-B

[untitled]

Holy God,

You alone are worthy of adoration.
You are great and mighty, and Your love knows no ends.

Grace has been shown me, even as there are graces I neglected.
Please take for Yourself whatever good I have done this day.
And forgive me for what evil I have wrought.

You have blessed me beyond measure.
And I offer thanks to You for everything You've done and will do.

My pleasures bind me like chains. I ask that you would break them.
Please remove from my heart the unholy desires I have chased this day.

Watch over all whom I love, and protect me in the dark of night.
Rule my life, Father. I pledge to You my allegiance, my sword, my life.

Reign in my heart as You reign in eternity.
For You are everlasting.


In Nomini Patri et Fili et Spiritu Sancti,

AMEN.

Caffeinated Philosophy

A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university Professor. Conversation soon turned, as it often does, into complaints about stress in work and life. One man spoke about his desire to have the best things life has to offer, and that his pursuit of those things has left his family feeling neglected. Another man spoke woefully of his desire to retire early and his frustration at his inability to do so. Still another man angrily recalled his being looked over for a job promotion. Despite his six-figure salary, he wanted more.

After a few minutes of thought, the Professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups: porcelain, plastic, glass, even paper. Some cups were plain while others were expensive and exquisite. The Professor politely told his guests to help themselves to hot coffee.

Each man paroused the selection of vessels with scrutiny. And when each of his former students had a cup of coffee in hand, the lecturer said, "Take a look around. All of the ornate and expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. Each of you seems to want only the best for yourselves. And that is the source of your problems and stress."

A puzzling silence fell over the room as the Professor continued, "You see, what all of you really wanted was coffee. NOT the cup. Yet you consciously went for what you each believed to be better. Does the cup make the coffee taste any better?"

"Your thirst is your desire for life," he continued, "and the nicest most beautiful cup in the world will do nothing to make that thirst go away. You're spending too much time looking for cups while all the time you could be enjoying the coffee."


I think this is such an appropriate picture of the pursuits of man. We spend so much time trying to accrue, to gain, to get. And in the midst of all that, we miss the essence of Life. Those things that we chase complicate the simplicity of life. We're so concerned with getting that we so easily ignore the giving.

I'm a student of the human condition, and I'm SO guilty of this very thing. The world points me in the direction of things that are worldly, and sometimes I so blindly oblige. In these hard times, though...I am forced to look at what I need. And at the top of that list is Christ.

I am without. I struggle. I am wounded. I weep, I rejoice, I scream in anger and balk in fear. I am a dying man speaking to dying men. And more than possessions, more than food or water or air, I desire to grow. I desire to become more complete. And our desire is what motivates us. If we live in the material, in cliches and emptiness...we will reap just that.

I can't put my head together enough to externalize the rest of what I want to say. Its one of those days.

So it goes...


-B

Welcome...

...to the blog, folks. I'll do my best to update this every couple days. Not that you care, but in the odd event you do...you'll be up to date on the life and times of the World's Coolest Nerd.

So it goes...

-B