Dr. Taylor's address to the Christian Scholars" Conference had a wonderful title: The Power of Narrtive in the Age of Twitter. She perfectly described this age of technological communication as "one with minimal nutritional value in a house with nothing to eat."
We must all choose what we want to give our time to in such an age and discern what has meaning and what does not. The stories we choose to give our lives to should:
1. honor people not like us
2. let us argue with them
3. level with us about the cost of love
4. not lie about the messiness of life
5. teach us to care.
The list certainly caused me to think about what I have spent the last few days giving myself to.
She said that she had purposefully chosen the Bible as one of her narratives (stories).
She ended powerfully in saying that we should ask ourselves as we go about "bearing the Word in our flesh" if the stories we encounter are too small for our soul's use.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Funerals
Yes, I was one of the millions who spent two hours Tuesday watching the funeral of Michael Jackson. It was a worthwhile experience in showing me just how judgmental I am. As the speakers continually pointed upward to where Jackson was, I could not help but think---- no--look at the sins, the sins.
And as I observed the funeral of Steve McNair and heard again about the good things he has done in the community, I could not help but think--wait a minute--he was shot by his mistress!
And then the Spirit whispered to me, Jesus would have taken the broken, childlike body of Michael Jackson in his arms in comfort and sorrow. He would have taken the huge, smiling body of Steve McNair into his arms and said, Well done; you have performed many acts of service for me.
Who am I to think that I have the right to judge these men to hell? I certainly do not--thank God. He, He, the Creator and the giver of gifts to these two men(and he only) will judge them....
God bless their families and their losses.
And as I observed the funeral of Steve McNair and heard again about the good things he has done in the community, I could not help but think--wait a minute--he was shot by his mistress!
And then the Spirit whispered to me, Jesus would have taken the broken, childlike body of Michael Jackson in his arms in comfort and sorrow. He would have taken the huge, smiling body of Steve McNair into his arms and said, Well done; you have performed many acts of service for me.
Who am I to think that I have the right to judge these men to hell? I certainly do not--thank God. He, He, the Creator and the giver of gifts to these two men(and he only) will judge them....
God bless their families and their losses.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Madeline Gail Thomas
Maddie is eight years old!!! Her party was fun yesterday as I watched her and her buddies swim, decorate flip-flops and enjoy cake and ice cream.
But I sat in a haze of amazement that she is already eight. She had her bright red hair in a long pig-tail, standing in a bluegreen knit dress, freckled on her forehead, nose and cheeks--looking for all the world like she had just stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting--what a girl. And besides that she is smart,sweet, loves reading and writing, and is an artist. What more could a grandmother ask? I could eat her up! Grandmothering is such a wonderful task when the grandchildren are like Maddie, Ella, and Sam. I am thankful to God that I am still here and live in Nashville to watch them grow so fast.
But I sat in a haze of amazement that she is already eight. She had her bright red hair in a long pig-tail, standing in a bluegreen knit dress, freckled on her forehead, nose and cheeks--looking for all the world like she had just stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting--what a girl. And besides that she is smart,sweet, loves reading and writing, and is an artist. What more could a grandmother ask? I could eat her up! Grandmothering is such a wonderful task when the grandchildren are like Maddie, Ella, and Sam. I am thankful to God that I am still here and live in Nashville to watch them grow so fast.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Sandestin
Women in black swim suits lying like beached whales on lounge chairs, super-model wanna-bes (sp?), sporting tiny bikinis parading up and down the beach, daddies and children building sand castles and fortifications against the rolling waves----yes, this is the beach at Sandestin, Florida.
Pictures in my memory box: Maddie "digging in China" in the wet sand, Sam helping Dad build a moat around a castle, Ella's screams of delight as she rode the waves in on a boogy board, Sheryl patiently positioning Ella over and over in the rolling surf for the best ride, Brandon bent over their sand castle molding forts----and, Sam's face as the Black Bart pirate ship glided silently past the Harry T's restaurant window, Ella's joy as she bungee jumped, Maddie running in and out of the fountain on Grand Blvd. like a water sprite----and, me, sitting in my canopied chair far enough out on the beach so that the waves came washing in on my legs and feet..
What a grand five days!
Pictures in my memory box: Maddie "digging in China" in the wet sand, Sam helping Dad build a moat around a castle, Ella's screams of delight as she rode the waves in on a boogy board, Sheryl patiently positioning Ella over and over in the rolling surf for the best ride, Brandon bent over their sand castle molding forts----and, Sam's face as the Black Bart pirate ship glided silently past the Harry T's restaurant window, Ella's joy as she bungee jumped, Maddie running in and out of the fountain on Grand Blvd. like a water sprite----and, me, sitting in my canopied chair far enough out on the beach so that the waves came washing in on my legs and feet..
What a grand five days!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Literature Potpourri
Dear Reader and lover of literature,
If you are anywhere near Nashville from Thursday to Saturday 25-27th, you should attend the Christian Scholars' Conference at Lipscomb.
On Thursday, Hubert Locke, a Holocaust scholar and writer will speak at 12:00 on The Power of Narrative. Then at 4:00 Barbara Brown Taylor, one of my favorite religious writers today will speak again on "The Power of Narrative." At 7:30 Tokens, a Garrison Keillor type show, will be presented in the the Alumni Auditorium.
Friday will bring Billy Collins, an American poet, speaking on "Poetry and the Power of Narrative."
Saturday Marilynne Robinson will end with "The Power of Narrative". She is the Pulitzer winner and author of Gilead and Home.
Strong, strong program with literally over a hundred papers and panels intervening the speeches.
Collins has written a wonderful poem that I liked to use with my college students:
Introduction to Poetry
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
If you are anywhere near Nashville from Thursday to Saturday 25-27th, you should attend the Christian Scholars' Conference at Lipscomb.
On Thursday, Hubert Locke, a Holocaust scholar and writer will speak at 12:00 on The Power of Narrative. Then at 4:00 Barbara Brown Taylor, one of my favorite religious writers today will speak again on "The Power of Narrative." At 7:30 Tokens, a Garrison Keillor type show, will be presented in the the Alumni Auditorium.
Friday will bring Billy Collins, an American poet, speaking on "Poetry and the Power of Narrative."
Saturday Marilynne Robinson will end with "The Power of Narrative". She is the Pulitzer winner and author of Gilead and Home.
Strong, strong program with literally over a hundred papers and panels intervening the speeches.
Collins has written a wonderful poem that I liked to use with my college students:
Introduction to Poetry
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Broadway Musicals II
If you love Broadway music as I do, you are in for a treat if you Google you tube.com Sound of Music Central Station Antwerp--- Everytime I hear Julie Andrews, I am always amazed at her diction and clear-as-a-bell voice.
Talk about a reality show--this one lifted my heart today.
Talk about a reality show--this one lifted my heart today.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
The Mind of a Teacher
Does the mind of a teacher ever stop? Are there times when the synapses just turn off and nothing rolls around in the head?
In my case, the answer is no. When I encounter someone with a problem or a question which can be met with literature, music or quotation, I can usually think of one that will fit--even if the answer is Alice is Wonderland. These days, however, I cannot usually think of all the title, all of the song, who wrote the book or who said what. I do know there is an answer lurking out there somewhere.
For example, before this morning's sermon by Michael Easeley at Fellowship Bible, a woman read Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken. The sermon was on Psalm 1, and the poem fit very aptly there, as it fits several theological contexts which my mind started racing toward as the poem was being read--Abraham and Mary of Bethany, etc.
I am happiest when I am thinking such things and trying to make the fireworks in my brain continue to burn.
In my case, the answer is no. When I encounter someone with a problem or a question which can be met with literature, music or quotation, I can usually think of one that will fit--even if the answer is Alice is Wonderland. These days, however, I cannot usually think of all the title, all of the song, who wrote the book or who said what. I do know there is an answer lurking out there somewhere.
For example, before this morning's sermon by Michael Easeley at Fellowship Bible, a woman read Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken. The sermon was on Psalm 1, and the poem fit very aptly there, as it fits several theological contexts which my mind started racing toward as the poem was being read--Abraham and Mary of Bethany, etc.
I am happiest when I am thinking such things and trying to make the fireworks in my brain continue to burn.
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