Sightsinging

I’ve been learning Bach’s B-minor mass, notoriously difficult, especially if you’re not a soprano.

I am not a soprano.

The higher pitches are (although difficult to sing), easier to hear and follow – which is probably why they usually get to sing the melody, or at least something melodic. The other parts blend in. You can’t always pick out a single part, and they’re not always singing melodically. To try and tease out the Alto, Tenor and Bass parts – not to mention the Alto II, Tenor II and Bass II – is to work on a Gordian knot. In other words: a hopeless tangle.

But I’ve the problem wrong-way-around. I suspect this is typical of me. Typical of us all, most likely. I worry about how to tease apart the vocal parts to Bach’s B-minor Mass so that I may learn “my part”. What I should be doing is sightsinging “my part” in order to help produce Bach’s B-minor Mass.

I presume the “whole”, because I have a recording of it. I can play the first movement, the Kyrie, as many times as I like to try and decipher how the Alto part weaves in and out of the soprano and tenor lines. I have played it more times than I care to admit, because of something else I don’t like to admit.

My sightsinging is weak.

There. I said it.

Yes, I am a musician and yes, I can read music, but I am accustomed to translating the notes upon an instrument, not producing them first with my voice. Producing them from nothing more than dots and staffs on paper.

This leads me back to how I get the problem turned around. I presume the whole and think my work is to discover and learn my part. I do so by trying to isolate my part from what I presume is the whole, so I can “learn” it.

What if my work is – instead – to produce my assigned part, using the materials I’ve been given (the written music) and together with others to produce the whole? A whole of our own, not the attempted reassembling of someone else’s performance I have dissected first, and them memorized?

You might be able to follow the high notes, but not so much the lower notes that blend in with the other parts and weave in and out, sometimes in strange intervals, and sometimes requiring what is called an “accidental” sharp or flat (a note not normally found in the key you’re singing in) to add a crunch to the music – or build tension, perhaps, or highlight the resolution of it just before the return of a haunting melody line that soothes our soul. Without the tension first, the melody line is merely pretty. It neither haunts nor soothes.

But who wants to be the person singing a B-note next to his neighbor’s A-note? Notes right next to each other on a piano – in a scale – rub and are hard to sustain vocally. Thankfully, most composers put them in only as passing notes – but they’re there for a reason. It’s like the sounding of the shofar – the ram’s horn of the Jews – not exactly pretty, but they do get your attention.

Somebody needs to sing that part, but if we’re working backwards from the whole, copying someone else’s whole, it is likely we won’t chose that part, but instead a melodic, pretty part. Let someone else sing the ugly bits.

Sight-singing is like walking by faith.

The more you do it, the better you get at it.

Other people help – for the most part – to keep you on the path but you have to beware of depending too much on others or 1. you’ll never learn to walk on your own – and you’ll stumble without the others around you or you’re stumble when others stumble around you and/or 2. you’ll struggle with the crunchy bits and you’ll slide to the pleasant harmony and forsake the calls of the composer to pay attention and you may excise the tension out of the piece altogether.

What if I turn my lesson from sightsinging around, now, and try to apply it to my walk of faith?

I see then what I’ve known all along, that my work is to do/walk/say/whatever my part, in accordance with the materials I’ve been given. Those materials are primarily the Bible and the Holy Spirit, guided also by the traditions of those who have bone before me, and in company with those who are on the path with me. I will not always be in harmony, perhaps, with those next to me, but so long as I stick to the music, I trust that the clash or present disharmony will be resolved and I look for the return of the haunting and soothing melody line – the line Oswald Chambers reminds me today is the fact of redemption. The Gospel tells the story of creation and fall, yes, but also of redemption and consummation.

And here, of course, is where my analogy breaks down. We presume the whole where God is concerned, because each of us is still tainted with the fruit of the forbidden tree – the knowledge of good and evil. Accordingly, we presume to know ultimate good and we try to pick our parts out, accordingly. Instead, what we must do is recognize that only God knows the whole and all we can do – all we’re asked to do – is to play our part faithfully and “as written”.

It is enough.

It is more than enough!

One day, we will get to hear the whole. I suspect we will be overcome. That’s the kind of worship that could go on forever. . . . . Where – as my friend Cindy showed me in this U-Tube video (“Louie Giglio’s Mashup of Stars and Whales Singing God’s Praise") - we can sing with planets and whales. . . .

Meanwhile, I’ve been working on my sightsinging.

I read the music alone, first, and puzzle out my part. I use other instruments to test my voice against and to keep me on track. I listen to part tapes (ok – CDs, now, but they still call them part tapes) with my part predominant, but the other parts there as well, so I can hear the relationship and interaction. I practice my part alone, learning where I can breathe and where I must rest and marking the difficult or surprising passages – places I come in a beat before I would expect, or perhaps a measure later; places where I hold a discordant note, while the other parts move quickly all around me; places where my starting note is hard to find, and I draw clues on the paper to remind myself of where to look and how to grab it as it goes by.

The point of the exercise, though, is to sing with others – and with other instruments – and thereby to ‘create’ a performance of Bach’s masterpiece. That forces me to work with others. Alone, no one can do it. Even the soprano line – largely melodic – is hollow and empty as a solo. And you should hear the alto as a solo! It is not something you would enjoy. There’s too much missing. But when we all come together, having spent the time first on our own becoming familiar with our parts as written out, the result is amazing. Less than perfect voices join together to produce a sound and an atmosphere that transcends our individual efforts. The whole is truly greater than the parts, and yet dependent on them.

Outside, we’re losing our way. Some deny that there is written music at all. Others insist on singing only the pretty bits – or the bits they like, no mater how discordant for how long. Some won’t sing with others; others won’t sing alone. Virtually all of us think we are the composer and certainly the director. No wonder it sounds so bad!

And yet. . . . I remember my tendency to presume the whole. I presume I see and hear the whole, but I do not. My work is to play my part – as given and as written – and to keep my eyes on the conductor who, in this larger scheme is also the composer – our Creator. I might not have the comfort of anyone else singing my part with me, but I’ve puzzled it out, and marked the places where I must breathe, the places I am to rest, the troublesome spots – spots where I seem to come in early (or late) – spots where my entrance note seems to have gone underground, and the clues for finding it again and – where all else fails – those lifeline places where I know I can come back in again, even if I’ve gotten lost in the labyrinth and fallen silent for awhile. . . .

In life right now there seems to be a period of waiting. I do not understand the music around me. It sounds loud and screechy and full of conflict as each voice battles for attention. I am in one long rest period – it seems – measure after measure of enforced silence, the melody long forgotten, my starting note not yet revealed, but probably hidden and certainly hard to hit. And yet. . . .

I’m getting better at sightsinging. I’ve had quite a bit of practice. Meanwhile, as far as the rest of life is concerned, I guess I can always count and try to keep track of the passing measures. Sooner or later my part will come back in.

R.I.P.

Campus Crusade for Christ

1951 - 2012

Campus Crusade for Christ is changing its name to cru.

No, I don’t know what “cru” means. That’s kind of the point, apparently. The official scuttlebutt is that “like . . . other abstract names, we expect to fill Cru with meaning as it embodies all that we are as we go to the world with the gospel.” And the official reason is:

Our name presented obstacles to our mission. The word “campus” does not adequately represent all our ministries in the United States and confuses our constituency as well as potential partners. The word “crusade”-while common and acceptable in 1951 when we were founded-now carries negative associations. It acts as a barrier to the very people that we want to connect with.

http://www.ccci.org/about-us/donor-relations/our-new-name/qanda.htm#1

So, Campus Crusade for Christ is dead, long live cru!

A number of people are not happy.

Those opposed immediately moved past the offered lure of getting rid of “Campus” and “Crusade” (as obstacles) to an outcry about “taking Christ out of the name.” The Biblical citation bandied about is the one about being “ashamed” of Jesus, of course. You know, the “if you’re ashamed of me, I’ll be ashamed of you. . . .” threat of Mark 8:38 and Luke 9:26. The organization appeared stunned. They were thinking only of getting rid of “Campus” and “Crusade” and apparently never considered that anyone would object to the removal of “Christ”.

Many questioned the validity of the stated intent to remove “Crusade” because of course the new name is “cru” – a diminutive of the word crusade. The answer to that objection from the organizational level was that surveys showed that people did not attach the same adverse association to “cru” as they do to “crusade”. I can’t help but wonder if that is before or after they learn that “cru” is a nickname for “crusade?”

Some fewer people object to the fact that “cru” doesn’t really mean anything. In objecting, however, they don’t move much further with that objection beyond stating it. All in all, it’s been an “is not!” - “is so!!” squabble among believers, with accusations of ill-will flying from both sides.

Interestingly, cru headquarters paints the squabble as one born of the media: “Recent media reports have questioned our commitment to Jesus and our calling as ministers of the gospel. Those who know and partner with us realize that this is simply untrue.” (http://www.ccci.org/about-us/donor-relations/our-new-name/commitment-to-christ.htm) Unfortunately, the comments in the comment section of the announcement pages did not bear that out. After an initial attempt to censor comments to only those that are helpful, all comments were then disabled and will be taken down in a few days.

I would note that my own take on the name change was not initially favorable, but was not informed by any media reports which, quite frankly, I still have not seen. I have made every effort, though, to read the explanations given by the organization itself.

One justification I read came from the head of a Campus Crusade ministry, Keynote (the music ministry), who tells his personal story of how hard it was to grow up with a different name than that of his mother and step-father. Chris speaks of the relief he felt when he was finally able to shed the offending name and thereby [presumably] shed the constant need to explain. Having worked with him for many years, I know Chris, and by correlation, I know he means to speak only of the difficulties presented by the “campus” and “crusade” parts of the Campus Crusade for Christ name, and not the “Christ” part. Still, there is something about a name change merely to make things easier that sticks in my craw. It seems underhanded somehow, a false attempt to escape history and one’s background.

Again, I know that’s not what Chris would intend and it is the farthest thing I can imagine from what I know his character to be. I want to pursue this line of thought, though, to see if perhaps it helps explain the outcry about the death of the Campus Crusade for Christ name.

Name Changes, Generally.

By law, we are allowed to call ourselves pretty much anything we’d like, so long as it does not offend society generally, act as an injury to another, or is undertaken for purposes of fraud or some other illegal purpose.

Consider, however, the general disdain with which the average personal name change is held, unless it’s for an “accepted” reason, like marriage or even divorce. Most people resist it, and old friends will often refuse to call the person by the new name they have chosen. There is often a sentiment of “Who does he think he is, to suddenly want to go by __________? What’s wrong with his real name?!”

For whatever reason, I’ve known four people who have changed their names; I’ve seen how it goes. The man I married rejected his childhood nickname, and affirmed his given name and a new nickname taken from shortening that name. It’s been a tough road. Many of his family and old friends refuse to call him anything but his childhood nickname. My younger brother’s name went through four incarnations – all based on versions of his first and second given names – I ended up calling him something else, entirely. My first boyfriend went by a childhood nickname, always hated his given name, and eventually also rejected the childhood nickname and took on a single, rather flamboyant stage name. That went over well! The fourth example was a family friend who suddenly decided that she was really much more of a ‘Sonja’ than a ‘Marge’. She was ridiculed for years, but now I have to think long and hard before I remember what she used to be called. . . .

I can sympathize with those who want to change their names. I wasn’t fond of my own name when I was young. . . . I tried to change it when I changed schools in the 10^th grade. It was a golden opportunity – no one knew me, I could be whoever I said I was! The problem was that I kept forgetting who I was supposed to be, and my chosen nickname – (don’t laugh, now) Sami – didn’t stick. Thank God.

I surmise that mostly pro-cru-name-change readers read Chris’ blog – there was no real discussion of pros or cons, but 51 “likes” and only modest questions in two comments.

Out in the larger world, however, with attacks leveled from both sides, the conversation on the official site became first heated and then bogged down. Chris acknowledges that certain types of attacking comments (as well as those that question motives or suggest that the name might be less of God than of the Devil) were removed. This, he says, is because

“Campus Crusade for Christ, first and foremost, is concerned for how non-believers respond to this conversation. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” Disagreement…absolutely!! But we still need to speak to each other in “psalms, hymns and spiritual songs”….”

I struggle with this. How can you have a real conversation if cru “blocks” the parts of the “conversation” that don’t fit that picture it wants to show “nonbelievers?” It makes sense if you’re working within accepted guidelines and using only authorized arguments. But unfortunately you might then end up fighting only authorized or even imaginary battles.

To wit, the “cru-team” official response at the official site seemed canned – referring endlessly back to the Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ’s) they’d pre-provided answers for, providing links to the 4 Spiritual Laws (which refer to Christ), emphasizing that the gospel message hasn’t been changed, and occasionally saying “Sorry you don’t like the name.” Those responses didn’t really deal with the objections. Perhaps that is why people became angry. Those commenting had been asked for their input, but what seemed to be wanted was their approval. What was also communicated in this process was that any disapproval was either wrong, irrelevant, or a matter of subjective taste. It was also rather obvious that no change to the name is contemplated, although it won’t come into final effect until early 2012.

I am not in favor of the name change. Here’s why:

1. Authority.

2. Prophecy or propaganda?

3. Only one creates ex nihilo.

1. Under What Authority? A question of proper authority.

It’s interesting to consider that one of the first privileges God gave man is the authority to name things. (Genesis 2:19)

To name something is inherently an assertion of authority over it, an authority that must first be actual, but which carries with it a responsibility. I am not allowed to name other people’s children, and when I name my own, I must care for it. The act of naming requires relationship. Bill and Vonnette Bright were a proper authority for initially naming Campus Crusade for Christ, because it was an organization they started. They named the organization as parents name their children.

Organizations are not children, however. They are comprised of people, although the organization takes on a flavor and character of its own. Still, the organization can only act through the people who are associated with it. The argument that Campus Crusade for Christ puts forward about the new name (in its frequently-cited Frequently Asked Questions) is that the people who comprise the organization have acted to rename the organization. This is an argument of “proper authority”:

In 2009 our Board of Directors approved a recommendation from U.S. leadership to begin the process of evaluating our name. In 2011 they approved the recommendation of our new name.

A select team of 30 staff representing all organizational levels and a broad cross-section of ministries was involved throughout. They worked closely with outside survey and branding agencies. A smaller team including President, Steve Douglass and Vice-President, Steve Sellers signed off on all decisions. At key points in the process we invited input from ministry partners, volunteers and all of our U.S. staff. During the spring, we invited our staff and friends of the ministry to join us in 40 days of prayer and seeking the Lord together as we prepared for the name change.

The problem seems to be coming from the people who weren’t in-the-know, and to whom the name change came as a surprise. These are people who were in individual relationship to Campus Crusade for Christ, who were suddenly told they would be calling it another name soon, a name they had no input in choosing. Neither did they get a vote in determining to abandon the old name. The Board of Directors and “select team” may be the proper authorities – legally – to rename Campus Crusade for Christ organizationally, but they have no authority to rename the organization on the personal, relational level. I think this is part of the push-back they’re experiencing. The organizational big-wigs do not have authority to un-name Campus Crusade for Christ on my behalf – or the behalf of so many others who know it as such.

Having taken the authority to rename the organization, each of us individually has a choice to make: accept the death of the old and embrace the new, or simply to grieve the death as a death. In helping individuals make this determination, it is not helpful for the organization to emphasize their organizational authority. What must be done is invitational, not dictatorial. Unfortunately, Campus Crusade for Christ tends to choose proclamation over conversation. That statement will likely annoy many people associated with the group; I’m sorry. I think they’re trying to change, but it’s been part of their evangelical DNA for some time now.

2. Is it prophecy or propaganda? A question of identity.

When Simon recognizes Jesus as the Son of God, Jesus calls Simon by a new name: Peter – or ‘rock’ – “and on this rock I will build my church.” (Matthew 16:18)

In speaking a new name, it is helpful to have that kind of authority (Jesus’) and to be speaking prophecy as to the meaning of the name. We’ve already touched on authority, let’s speak now about prophecy, about meaning.

A question to ask about Campus Crusade’s name change is whether it arises out of spiritual victory – as did Simon’s new name – or whether it’s an attempt to escape their past and the hindrance of words in their name that they find now bound them. “Campus” is too limiting they say, and “Crusade” has an unsavory tang to it. By “escaping their past”, I refer to a study they commissioned that showed that a statistically significant percentage of people are less interested in talking to Campus Crusade for Christ once they hear who they are talking to. At least part of that reduced interest, however, could just as easily be attributed to Campus Crusade for Christ’s reputation, and not just to the descriptive aspects of the name or subjective preferences of the person being polled.

It would be different if Campus Crusade for Christ were leaving an old part of themselves behind, in making this name change. Peter, for example, was moving into a new realization: that of Jesus as the Christ – the anointed one of God, the Son of God. This was a realization that Simon did not have; this was the reason for the new name. What new realization justifies the cru name? How is cru different than Campus Crusade for Christ? Or is it? In fact, the organization seems eager to assure the public that nothing else will change except the name: the mission is the same, the message proclaimed is the same, the heart of its staff is the same.

In renaming Simon, Jesus spoke prophetic meaning into Peter’s name and life. In the renaming to cru, by contrast, the organizational heads say they hope that the old organization will speak meaning into the new name.

Philosophically, however, a renaming without a renewal of some kind feels like a shell game. It is difficult not to question motives. I am reminded of the response to Blackwater’s name change to Xe (pronounced “Zee” – which was not alleged to mean anything). (http://voices.washingtonpost.com/government-inc/2009/02/behind_the_blackwater_name_cha.html) You remember Blackwater? That was the private military contracting company headed by (former SEAL) Eric Prince, which brought us the Wild West in Bagdad, complete with main square shootings and ambushes.

After the death of some 17 civilians in just one incident, Blackwater understandably tried to move out of the public eye. The name “Blackwater” alone was enough to poison any well and even those government officials who wanted to do business with the company were forced not to. A name change was clearly in order. But with the same company, same mission, and same tactics, no one was fooled. Blackwater Xe at least pretended that there was something new to their business, to justify the name change. Campus Crusade for Christ makes no such claim. They merely cite the name as an “obstacle” to their mission. I don’t know that their old name is any more of an obstacle than is already present inherently to any proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Neither is there a specific scandal that makes it desirable to distance oneself from the name like in the Blackwater example. At the same time, though, I suspect that any one who would object to the old name will eventually find reason to object to the new one as well. What’s more, they will undoubtedly object even more when they discover that cru is the same group as Campus Crusade for Christ, just under a trendy new name and patchwork cross. A new name ought to mean a new identity of some sort, not the attempt to imply a new identity, in order to make new friends.

I keep dancing around a feeling of unease, that there’s something that feels rather underhanded about the name change. Imagine Romeo changing his name from Montague to Montag, say, because he [rightly] believed the Montague name was an obstacle to his mission of courting a Capulet, namely Juliet? In changing his name (absent more) Romeo does not renounce his heritage or change in any other significant way, he has merely taken on a disguise.

I do not believe that it is the intent of Campus Crusade for Christ to be either underhanded or deceitful – far from it! At the same time, I believe the Campus Crusade for Christ situation is inherently troubling from the perspective of true and honest identity. Having started with the name Campus Crusade for Christ, any change would have to be for a good reason, and should relate openly to who/what the organization is and always has been. The renaming in this instance feels more like a disguise that the organization hopes will not long be remembered.

3. Only One creates ex nihilo – a question of meaning.

Finally, we get to the meaning underlying this new name. What does cru mean? Nothing, apparently. It’s a nickname, supposedly. It’s a nickname we are told was given to the organization by the organization itself – by those participating in the campus ministries (those same ministries that supposedly no longer dominate the organization’s focus and which was used as part of the justification to change the name to begin with). It’s a placeholder sound into which to pour new ‘meaning’, by which it is hoped the newly-named group will be able to shrug off the negative meaning associated with the organization formerly known as Campus Crusade for Christ.

Good luck with that.

I’m not going to do the intellectual work here of outlining the problems underlying choosing a nonsense word to mean something, when meaningful words have been allowed to degenerate into an adverse meaning. I will point to C.S. Lewis’ work on the subject, as well as Lewis Carroll’s and George Orwell’s. And I will also point out that allowing the organization to name itself is kind of like letting your child pick his or her own name. You might end up with “Sami.”

Finally, I would point to the original naming of the organization – an organization whose mission and name was given to Bill Bright by revelation, a creation ex nihilo – out of nothing. Although we can ask for renewal, we can not produce it ourselves. But neither can we come up with a new – otherwise meaningless – word, in order to force God to create. That would be like expecting a child supernaturally to appear to fill a new name we’ve pronounced.

Conclusion

If you’ve stayed with me this far, you would be excused for thinking I was in favor of keeping the old name. Not really. I never liked the old name. It’s too in-your-face with the evangelical zeal and agenda of the movement which gave rise to the name in the first place. But that name still feels a whole lot more honest to me than this recent “branding” attempt, no matter how much spiritual fervor was poured into the process or how many up-to-date marketing surveys, preference measurements and predictions of the current trend of what’s cool accompanied it.

Not that “cool” is cool any longer – I’m sure there’s a new term these days. Perhaps “cru”. Well, that’s “cru” then. My overarching question is whether Campus Crusade for Christ is changing its name because they have moved away from the evangelical zeal and agenda of their original name, or whether they seek to disguise business-as-usual with a cru-sounding moniker? I sincerely hope that I have not unfairly stated those alternatives. I don’t believe that there is another, viable choice. The alternative of ‘bigger and better business-as-usual because of our new name’ just doesn’t seem appropriate. I may be wrong, though, and would be happy to continue talking about that.

My point in writing down my reservations about the name change is not to argue for my preference of another name or to otherwise accuse or condemn the organization, but to point out that naming in a Biblical sense is a process. It’s about authority, relationship, and prophecy (in terms of ultimate meaning). The jump to cru seems to have missed a couple of steps, not to mention stepped on a few toes. I think the organization is figuring that out, especially with the bit of a firestorm that occurred upon the announcement of the new name. We’ll have to see how it ultimately plays out.

So: R.I.P. Campus Crusade for Christ. The name is gone; long live the Name.

post Primary Day thoughts

I don't know who James Freeman Clarke is, and haven't taken the time to 'google' him. . . . Following yesterday's primary election here in the States, I wonder how many statesmen may have been made? Chances are, we won't know until the next generation.

************************************************

A politician is a man who thinks of the next election; 

while the statesman thinks of the next generation. 

James Freeman Clarke, preacher and author (1810-1888)

sins of my own

"Sin" is a troubling word. It's hard even hearing the word without battling an innate rejection-response born out of having been bludgeoned with it by one or another of the religiously-motivated.

"You're a SINNER!"

"That's a SIN!"

"Sinners go to HELL!"

All of which may be true statements for all we know - both theologically as well as figuratively - but I think the reason we don't really hear those statements as true is because of the implication that goes along with it, that the person saying those words is somehow different, somehow exempt from sin.

Here's how it goes, with the missing text in brackets:

"You're a SINNER! [and I'm not. . . ."]

"That's a SIN!" [I would never do that!"]

"Sinners go to HELL!" [and I'm going to heaven! na, na, na, na, nahhhh, naaaaah!"]

My first response to the unspoken text tends to self-defense or even counter-attack.

Fisticuffs ensue.

This is not helpful.

[long pause] So. What is sin? [long pause]

It seems to me that the current thinking (so-called 'Christian', anyway) is that sin is doing 'bad' things, or breaking laws of God (or his church). That's certainly one way of looking at it.

Oswald Chambers, a Scottish minister who died in 1917, would disagree:

We have to recognize that sin is a fact of life, not just a shortcoming.

Now before you get your panties all in a twist over "original sin" and bluster about who are they to say that you (or your mother) is a bad person (and so on, and so forth. . . .), just stop.

Oswald goes on to say, "Sin is blatant mutiny against God."

If you don't believe in God? Good luck with that, and you can stop reading now. (Yes, I'm thinking that within the God-believing framework of thought, not believing in God would be considered a "blatant mutiny" - and therefore a "sin" - but hey! You don't believe, so what do you care?! If you're not playing Marco Polo, you don't have answer "Polo" every time someone inquires "Marco". Move on.)

For those who remain, who believe (or suspect) in God, remember the bit we started out with: "Sin is a fact of life, not just a shortcoming." It seems to me that facts of life are important to take account of as we try to come up with the meaning of life.

If sin is mutiny against God, and mutiny against God is a fact of life (rather than just a momentary shortcoming), strangely, that helps me to get on not only with life, but also with sin! No, I do not mean that I may now go off and do bad things with impunity. Rather, I mean that I see rebellion against God as inherent in my life (which leads me to wish to order my own life, my own way - or the way I am told by prime-time television and my neighbors, friends and family) and begin to see that it is ordering my own life (differently than God wants it ordered - and God doesn't want me to order it, he wants to order it) that leads me into trouble to begin with.

Out of that (ordering my own life) comes all the "shortcomings" we usually associate with "sin", but it goes much deeper than that. It goes beyond good or bad, to whose rules apply. It goes to the prayer Jesus gave his disciples when they asked him to teach them how to pray:

. . . Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

That's because it is a fact of life that I want my will to be done; I want my kingdom established here on earth.

And so does every other person on the planet.

That is the original sin. That is the unique - but universal - sin of our own.

Out of it, when I don't get my way, comes lying, cheating, murder, mayhem, theft, jealousy, rage, contempt, betrayal. . . . on and on and on and on and on. . . . . . .

Recognizing that, I eventually cry out with St. Paul: O wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from the body of this death?

paying attention

I really liked this quote, by one Todd Kashdan, in an interview over at The Happiness Project:

When I think I know something, I stop paying attention.

I don't see this as anti-intellectual (as in "don't try and figure things out" or "you can't 'know' anything"), I see it as staying humble (as in "you could be wrong; you could have more to learn").

Then again, there undoubtedly are things that don't warrant much attention.

Still, there is something to be learned even from, say, Paris Hilton. For one, I recall that one can learn by positive as well as negative example, i.e., what not to do. . . .

The important thing is to pay attention.

Just maybe not to Paris Hilton, or she'll wear this bathing suit again. Let's not encourage her.

spending time

Does spending time make something real? Can you really be friends with people you never see?

It's a big question for me, in light of all the facebook, myspace, digg and twitterings.

You could spend your whole day keeping up with all that - and end up completely alone, with a life effectively un-lived.

So: what makes something "real"?

Perhaps the better question is: what's real?

never again

I have learned as much - possibly more - from the "never again"s as I have from the "wow, that worked out nicely"s.

I'm thinking that remembering this might help me actually go through the experience I am never again wanting to experience. . . .