I watched The Grey last night, and it left me thinking and dreaming all night long in the realm of nihilism. I cringed at writing an adequate review, as my understanding of the nihilistic worldview is hampered by my own Christian worldview. But I found this excellent review and decided to share it as a reblog. As far as a rating for the movie, I’ll give it three out of five stars.
Category: Christianity
Lyrical Conjunction
I dropped off my last rider this morning and turned the radio up, just in time to hear “Gone” by Switchfoot aired by KLOVE. As I listened to the words (see the lyrics below or click on the video to listen), I thought how serendipitous this song seemed to me. Especially after watching and reviewing the In Time movie this past weekend. “Gone” could have easily doubled as a theme song for the female protagonist, Silvia.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGNPS6-G3EY]
Lyrics for “Gone” by Switchfoot:
She told him she’d rather fix her makeup
Than try to fix what’s going on
But the problem keeps on calling
Even with the cellphone gone
She told him that she believes in living
Bigger than she’s living now
But her world keeps spinning backwards
And upside-down
Don’t say so long, and throw yourself wrong
Don’t spend today away
Cuz today will soon be
Gone, like yesterday is gone,
Like history is
Gone, just trying to prove me wrong
And pretend like you’re immortal
She said he said live like no tomorrow
Every day we borrow
Brings us one step closer to the edge (infinity)
Where’s your treasure, where’s your hope
If you get the world and lose your soul
She pretends like she pretends like she’s immortal
Don’t say so long
You’re not that far gone
This could be your big chance to makeup
Today will soon be
Gone, like yesterday is gone,
Like history is gone,
The world keeps spinning on,
Your going going gone,
Like summer break is gone,
Like Saturday is gone
Just try to prove me wrong
You pretend like your immortal your immortal
We are not infinite
We are not permanent
Nothing is immediate
We’re so confident
In our accomplishments
Look at our decadence
Gone, like Frank Sinatra
Like Elvis and his mom
Like AL Pacino’s cash nothing lasts in this life
My high school dreams are gone
My childhood sweets are gone
Life is a day that doesn’t last for long
Life is more than money
Time was never money
Time was never cash,
Life is still more than girls
Life is more than hundred dollar bills
And roto-tom fills
Life’s more than fame and rock and roll and thrills
All the riches of the kings
End up in wills we got information in the information age
But do we know what life is
Outside of our convenient Lexus cages
She said he said live like no tomorrow
Every moment that we borrow
Brings us closer to the God who’s not short of cash
Hey Bono I’m glad you asked
Life is still worth living, life is still worth living
A North Texas Easter
Terry and I left Lansing mid-morning on Thursday, April 5th, heading south via the Kansas Turnpike to spend the next four days with our 20-something kids in North Texas. Since I’m the early riser, I took Apollo to the kennel before the sun broke the horizon. Once back home, I finished packing the car, including a set of old metal (and heavy) car ramps and most of Rachelle’s 2-D art from her high school days (now a half-decade in the past). I took out the protective cover we place on the backseat to protect the leather from Apollo and wiped the seats down with leather cleaner and moisturizer.
Once Terry woke up and got dressed, we hit the road, entering the Turnpike at ten before ten o’clock. Since the speed limit rose to 75 mph, I prefer to pay the extra $10.75 to cross quickly across Kansas, instead of zig-zagging and slowing down for every little town on other routes (like US-69 or US-75). We reached the southern terminus of the Turnpike before one o’clock and stopped in Guthrie to top off the tank.
As we were passing through Oklahoma City, we followed a very low profile sports car (see photo at right) which we finally determined was a Ford, a GT 40. Very, very nice vehicle. Just wish I could have gotten a better photograph of it. Hard to accomplish while also driving.
Before leaving work on Wednesday, I had popped down to the lobby and checked out a couple of audiobooks from the Plaza Branch of the Kansas City Public Library. The selection available for science fiction and fantasy amounted to less than a dozen titles, some of which were duplicates. I sighed. I selected a couple of Terry Brooks novels set in the Shannara world, knowing that Terry had read Brooks and liked him. I have read (not listened to) nearly all of Brooks’ Shannara novels, so I am very familiar with the setting. I inserted the first disc of Armageddon’s Children into the Bonneville’s seldom used CD player. The novel, which reveals the post-apocalyptic origins to the famous Sword of Shannara, made for grim, but gripping, listening and made the miles fly by as we continued south across Oklahoma.
We crossed into Texas just shy of five o’clock and stopped at our favorite Texas tourist information spot for a brief biobreak. I sent Rachelle a text to let her know we were close (within forty miles). As we passed Sangar, traffic slowed to a crawl (usual for Denton at this time of day thanks to the splitting of I-35, which also narrows and becomes increasingly congested until you get past Lewisville). Worried that an accident was disrupting traffic, I called Rachelle and asked if I should take the first Denton exit. She and Nic conferred and confirmed we should exit at 380 and then asked for directions from that exit to their apartment. I found Hickory Street easily enough, but drove right by their apartment and had to turn around when I reached North North Texas (yes, that’s a street name plus a direction). Even with the traffic delays, we made it to their apartment in record time, arriving just past 5:30 p.m. We unpacked and then graced a local sandwich shop with our presence for a quick supper.
We returned to Rachelle’s apartment and I setup our portable airbed, while Nic and Terry found something to stream via Netflix. I didn’t stay up too late, being exhausted from the long drive. I crashed while the rest of the gang watched the Mystery Science Theater 3000 movie, which lampooned the 1955 movie This Island Earth. I don’t think I missed much. Sometimes I’m glad I was born in the 60s.
I woke up early on Friday, thanks to my cell phone’s alarm. I quietly left Terry to his dreams and took my Nook with me to the living room, where I read for a bit while waiting for Rachelle to wake up. I wanted to spend the morning addressing her graduation announcements. Once she woke up, I retrieved my laptop and got connected to her wifi so I could look up addresses. She and I sat at the kitchen table for the next couple of hours. I didn’t quite have enough stamps for all the envelopes though. Once Terry woke up, we went to the grocery store to pick up a few items and to buy stamps. We mailed the announcements after leaving the store.
The rest of the day, Rachelle worked on her thesis paper. Terry napped or watched Netflix and I read. I also attempted a new bread recipe I received in a promotional e-mail from King Arthur Flour. The Italian Easter Cheese bread stuck fast in the pan, despite generous oiling of the pan. We eventually got the bread out of the pan and wrapped it up to keep it fresh for Easter Sunday dinner.
Rachelle and I left for Good Friday worship in the early evening. We had a long drive to cross over from Denton to the east side of Plano. I opted to sit in the very back of the sanctuary, something I rarely do at worship, but because I decided to wear street clothes (jeans and walking shoes), I felt less conspicuous in the back. I listened as the orchestra ran through several of their musical offerings, including a beautiful and poignant arrangement of ‘Were You There?’ The Good Friday service included only two hymns sung by the congregation and many of the Lenten selections by the choir from the past few weeks of Lent. The worship service focused on the first nine stations of the cross, extinguishing a candle on the altar after each station, leaving all of the candles dark as the Good Friday service ended.
While waiting for Rachelle to derobe, I wandered the parking lot and snapped a photo of the quickly fading sunset (see photo to the left). Rachelle and I returned to Denton. For some reason I can’t recall what we did for dinner Friday night. I will have to ask Terry or call Rachelle and ask them to remind me. Once I know, I’ll update this paragraph with the appropriate culinary information.
Rachelle actually woke up before seven o’clock on Saturday and walked with me around her Denton neighborhood. The only photo I took while we were walking was of a yard filled with the Texas state flower, which I forgot to send to Flickr from my phone and subsequently deleted. Grrr.
Upon returning to the apartment, we whipped up a batch of real buttermilk pancakes. Then we took the car to a local farmer’s market so Rachelle could choose her weekly produce from a community-sponsored agriculture (CSA) she recently joined.
Once Terry woke up, we decided drive to Derek and Royna’s apartment for a visit. We learned during the visit that Derek’s truck had developed some alarming drive-train issues. Terry rode with Derek around the Colony and suggested that the truck be taken to a transmission shop for diagnosis. Nearly a week later, the shop still has the truck, but more on that in a separate post. We also decided that Easter dinner after worship would be simple fare of a Tex-Mex flavor. On the way back to Denton, we stopped and bought the fixings to make enchiladas and deviled eggs. After Nic got home from work, he and Rachelle worked like a well-oiled team to create the enchilada filling. Rachelle had less success with boiling eggs, rapidly going through nearly two dozen before Nic stepped in, with a new dozen he retrieved from a second trip to the grocery store.
Since Rachelle had to sing in all three Easter worship services, we had to leave Denton at exactly seven o’clock Sunday morning to drop her off at the First UMC in Plano by 7:45 a.m. As soon as we dropped off Rachelle, we back-tracked to Derek and Royna’s apartment to relax until the last worship service scheduled for eleven o’clock. We stowed the enchilada ingredients in the fridge and settled down to visit with everyone.
I twisted Derek’s arm, insisting that everyone, including him, must attend Easter worship. He grunched and groaned but eventually got ready. As we were about to leave to return to church I realized I had a problem. Since Derek’s truck was undriveable, my vehicle, the Bonneville, was our only transportation to and from church. It only seats five adults. Not a problem getting to church, but returning with one more (Rachelle) meant we had six total adults. I suggested drawing straws, but of course Derek just grinned impishly. Nic actually volunteered but I reluctantly left Derek behind.
We returned to the church just before 10:30 a.m. and find a scarce parking spot. The second service had not ended so we took advantage of coffee and donuts while we waited. Once the sanctuary emptied, I led everyone to the middle section, about five rows back from the altar. By eleven o’clock, there wasn’t an empty seat to be found in the spacious (almost cavernous) sanctuary.
When Rachelle joined the Chancel Choir at First UMC Plano, I immediately went to their website to learn a bit about their ministry and their pastor. Imagine my surprise when I learned that their senior pastor, Gary Mueller, grew up in Kansas and graduated from KU. What are the odds? He even managed to insert KU basketball into his sermon, spending at least ten minutes reminiscing about past national championship games (including the most recent one less than a week old). At one point he even started chanting ‘Rock Chalk …’ and waited for the audience to respond with ‘Jayhawk’ … but a thousand plus Texans just fidgeted in their seats. I almost shouted ‘Jayhawk’ in support of a fellow Kansan, but couldn’t get over my Wildcat leanings. Eventually, he delivered an Easter message somehow managing to connect all the dots in the end.
Worship wrapped up with an ambitious and joyous rendition of Handel’s Hallelujah chorus, including an orchestra, the choir and audience participation from the congregation. By far, the loudest experience I’ve ever participated in at a church.
We gathered up Rachelle and returned to the Colony. Before everyone could change clothes, I insisted we gather in the hallway for some posed group family photos. I had neglected to do a similar session at Thanksgiving, and didn’t want to miss the opportunity again.
After the photo shoot, we returned to the apartment to relax and bake enchiladas. Rachelle set out the deviled eggs, which lasted about five minutes. We ate lunch and visited for a few minutes while our stomachs digested the delicious repast.
As a thunderstorm rolled through the area, Rachelle grabbed the bag of plastic Easter eggs we’d bought and stuffed with goodies. Since the rain prevented us from hiding eggs in a more traditional setting, the kids split the eggs up between the guys and the gals. Rachelle and Royna languished in the bedroom while Nic and Derek started hiding thirty-five eggs around the rest of the apartment. The eggs could go anywhere except in something (like the trash or the tank of a toilet). Once the eggs were hidden, the gals were released to search for them. Rachelle found a few more than Royna, but not many. Next, the guys were sent to the bedroom while Rachelle and Royna hid the rest of the eggs. Once the guys were released to hunt, it quickly became clear who was driven to win the egg hunting championship. Derek took the lead and never let up.
After the egg hunt, we sat around the table, watching the kids tally up their candy and coins. Eventually, several of us took naps. By five o’clock, we decided it was time to return to Denton. We hugged and said goodbye to Derek and Royna. While we will see Derek again in mid-May when Rachelle graduates from UNT, Royna is returning to Nepal to visit her parents until early July.
Monday morning Terry and I woke up early, packing the Bonneville by seven o’clock and saying goodbye to Rachelle. We headed north on I-35 at 7:30 a.m. We made very few stops, opting to get breakfast via drive-through in Ardmore, Oklahoma and catching a quick ten minute lunch at a McDonalds on the Kansas Turnpike. We pulled into our driveway at 4:30 p.m. Monday afternoon. The first thing I noticed was how tall the grass in the side yard had grown.
We unpacked the Bonneville and I pulled out the mower. I spent thirty or forty minutes taming the yard and then relaxed until shortly after five, when Terry and I left the house to retrieve Apollo from the kennel. We had to wait a few minutes while they finished blow drying him after his bath and trimming his nails. He was still a bit damp, but still very excited to see us. I noticed immediately he’d put on weight. Having other dogs near him must have spurred on his competitive juices and inspired him to actually eat his food. Terry and I returned home and ordered a carryout dinner from our local Pizza Hut. Neither of us felt like making yet another trip to the grocery store. Pasta, wings and cinnamon sticks hit the spot perfectly.
Terry and I had a great time with our kids over Easter weekend. Lucky for us, we get to repeat this entire process in just three weeks, when we return to Denton to attend Rachelle’s graduation from the University of North Texas.
Happy Easter!
Disembodied Sun Rises on Holy Week Wednesday
Strange optical illusion shortly after the sun rose today. The sun appeared to float before the clouds on the eastern horizon (see photo above). This next photo has slightly better colors:
This will be my last post until after Easter (except for the already scheduled ‘Remembering Roxy’ post which will magically appear early Friday morning).
I will leave you with a prayer for today, Wednesday of Holy Week (Year B):
Creator of the universe,
you made the world in beauty,
and restore all things in glory
through the victory of Jesus Christ.We pray that, wherever your image is still disfigured
by poverty, sickness, selfishness, war, and greed,
the new creation in Jesus Christ may appear
in justice, love, and peace,
to the glory of your name.Amen.
Protected: LivePHIT Faith Plan – Week 6 Assignment (Feb. 21-27, 2012)
Book Review: The Poisonwood Bible by Kingsolver
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I would never have read this book without the nudging of my local library. The Poisonwood Bible hit my radar via the suggested reading list for the adult winter reading program, Destination: Anywhere, sponsored by the Kansas City Public Library. I don’t normally read this flavor of historical fiction, but once I got into the heads of all five women, I stayed the course and finished the book. Not quite in time for the book discussion held by the Trailblazers book club, but far enough along that I could fully participate in the discussion.
Synopsis from KC Library:
When a white preacher from Georgia uproots his family and replants them amid a jungle in the Belgian Congo, the scene is set for a life-threatening culture clash. Kingsolver tells this story from the revolving point-of-view of the wife and daughters of Nathan Price as they observe his repeated frustrations, such as local aversion to baptisms in the nearby river. The Price women watch with growing alarm as the consequences of political instability – involving the CIA – creep ever-closer. But politics never subsume this survival story that describes the toll of danger and decay, while exalting the healing that Africa promises.
Notes from book club discussion:
Most of the readers loved the book (I liked it, but didn’t absolutely love it). The discussion leader remarked it took nearly fifty pages before she really got into it. Many of us agreed it was a long book to attempt in a month (although I read nearly all 400+ pages in two days since the ebook only became available for checkout on the Thursday before the Saturday discussion).
Our leader also remarked she came from a Fundamentalist background and she had met many men similar to the Father portrayed by the four Price girls. Another reader felt the entire book encompassed guilt, especially the older twin, Leah. I remarked that of the four daughters and the mother, the character I identified with most was Adah.
We discussed the political situation in Africa and the Belgian Congo in particular in the late 1950s and early 1960s. We talked about the return of the mother to Africa searching for Ruth Ann’s grave and Adah’s question to her mother about why she saved her later at the river (but not on the night of the ant invasion).
The discussion leader posed the question ‘Is this a woman’s book?’ to which we generally agreed. Written by a woman and featuring the thoughts and recollections of five women, how could it be anything else?
A reader commented how she always tries to find the connection between the title of a book and it’s contents. She struggled somewhat with it, but the discussion leader remarked that things in Africa will bite you and poison you, just like the poisonwood tree did to the Father, even after he was warned by the locals to steer very clear of it. Another reader likened the Bible of the Father to his dissemination of poison to his family and Congonese congregation through his blind faith and intolerant uncompromising adherence to a strict literal interpretation of the Bible. We discussed the differences we see now in modern missions to third world countries, which practice more respect for local customs and preach through service, not shouted espousals and condemnations.
We continued our discussion, moving on to the theme of the novel, proposed by our leader as being only a person born in Africa can truly understand it. We talked about the grandchildren’s visit to Atlanta and their wonder and amazement by the grocery store, filled with many things no one needs. Compared to the subsistence near-starvation standard of living back ‘home’ in Africa, the grandchildren could not fathom the overabundance sprawling across the store shelves.
We wrapped up the discussion with the leader asking us if we had difficulty following the shifting timelines and points of view. I commented that I had no trouble keeping track, but also mentioned that I routinely read epic fantasy which excels at sprawl, large casts of characters, myriad subplots and unexpected shifts in place and time.
My Final Thoughts:
Before I read the last few pages of The Poisonwood Bible, I had decided I would only alot three stars to my rating. At that point, I liked the book, but I didn’t love it. However, with the return of a long silent voice whispering grace and peace to her mother, I resolved to increase the rating to four stars. Officially, I’d still give it a 3.5, but I’m rounding up for the tears I shed on the last paragraph of the last page of The Poisonwood Bible.
Quotes/Highlights Marked While Reading eBook:
*** Warning: Spoilers Below ***
‘I could never work out whether we were to view religion as a life-insurance policy or a life sentence.’ Orleanna, Book Two, p. 79
‘Oh, and the camel. Was it a camel that could pass through the eye of a needle more easily than a rich man? Or a coarse piece of yarn? The Hebrew words are the same, but which one did they mean? If it’s a camel, the rich man might as well not even try. But if it’s the yarn, he might well succeed with a lot of effort, you see?’ Rachel quoting Brother Fowles, Book Three, p. 189
‘God doesn’t need to punish us. He just grants us a long enough life to punish ourselves.’ Leah, Book Four, p. 244
‘I’m sure Father resented his own daughter being such a distraction. It’s just lucky for Father he never had any sons. he might have been forced to respect them.’ Rachel on Leah joining the hunting party, Book Four, p. 252
‘In organic chemistry, invertebrate zoology, and the inspired symmetry of Mendelian genetics, I have found a religion that serves. I recite the Periodic Table of Elements like a prayer. I take my examinations as Holy Communion, and the pass of the first semester was a sacrament. My mind is crowded with a forest of facts. Between the trees lie wide-open plains of despair. I skirt around them. I stick to the woods.’ Adah, Book Five, p. 303
‘I learned the balance of power in one long Congolese night, when the drive ants came: Out into the moonlight where the ground boild and there stood Mother like a tree rooted motionless in the middle of a storm. Mother staring at me, holding Ruth May in her arms, weighing the two of us against one another. The sweet intact child with golden ringlets and perfectly paired strong legs, or the dark mute adolescent dragging a stubborn half-body. Which? After hesitating only a second, she choose to save perfection and leave the damaged. Everyone must choose.’ Adah, Book Five, p. 306
‘It’s the only time I get homesick, when America lands on my doorstep in a missionary guise. … They’re so unlike Father. As I bear the emptiness of life without God, it’s a comfort to know these soft-spoken men who organize hospitals under thatched roofs, or stoop alongside village mamas to plant soybeans, or rig up electrical generators for a school. They’ve risked … every imaginable parasite in the backwater places where children were left to die or endure when the Underdowns and their ilk fled the country. As Brother Fowles told us long ago: there are Christians, and there are Christians.’ Leah, Book Five, p. 324
‘What I carried out of Congo on my crooked little back is a ferocious uncertainty about the worth of a life. And now I am becoming a doctor. How very sensible of me.’ Adah, Book Five, p. 331
‘I called her. It was the dead-flat middle of the night. The night before Christmas and all through the house I am Adah who expects no gifts, Adah who does not need or care what others say. Yet I woke up my mother and finally asked her why she choose me, that day at the Kwenge River. Mother hesitated, understanding that there were many wrong answers. I did not want to hear that the others could take care of themselves, nor that she felt she had no other choice. Finally she said, “After Ruth May you were my youngest, Adah. When push comes to shove, a mother takes care of her children from the bottom up.” … I find this remarkably comforting. I have decided to live with it.’ Adah, Book Five, p. 331-2
‘Adah got a very strange look and said, “He got The Verse. … the last one. Old Testament. Second Maccabees 13:4 … I must have gotten that one fifty times. It’s the final ‘The Verse’ in the Old Testament … One-hundred-count from the end. If you include the Apocrypha, which of course he always did. … the Closing statement of the Old Testament: ‘So this will be the end.'” Rachel quoting Adah as they discuss their Father’s demise in a blaze of glory, Book Five, p. 370
‘There is not justice in this world. Father, forgive me wherever you are, but this world has brought one vile abomination after another down on the heads of the gentle, and I’ll not live to see the meek inherit anything. What there is in this world, I think, is a tendency for human errors to level themselves like water throughout their sphere of influence. … There’s the possibility of balance. Unbearable burdens that the world somehow does bear with a certain grace.’ Leah, Book Six, p. 395
‘When Albert Schweizter walked into the jungle, bless his heart, he carried antibacterials and a potent, altogether new conviction that no one should die young. He meant to save every child, thinking Africa would then learn how to have fewer children. But when families have spent a million years making nine in the hope of saving one, they cannot stop making nine. Culture is a slingshot moved by the force of its past. when the strap lets go, what flies forward will not be family planning, it will be the small, hard head of a child. Over-population has deforested three-quarters of Africa, yielding drought, famine, and the probable extinction of all animals most beloved by children and zoos. … No other continent has endured such an unspeakably bizarre combination of foreign thievery and foreign goodwill.’ Adah, Book Six, p. 400
‘Mother, you can still hold on but forgive, forgive and give for long as long as we both shall live I forgive you, Mother. You are afraid you might forget, but you never will. You will forgive and remember. Think of the vine that curls from the small square plot that was once my heart. That is the only marker you need. Move on. Walk forward into the light.’ Ruth May, Book Seven, p. 412
Drink Only Water for Lent
I don’t often get to listen to the KLOVE morning show these days. My vanpool riders chat quite a bit, and with yesterday being a federal holiday, there was much to catch up on. But after I dropped off the last two riders at Crown Center, I turned up the radio just in time to catch the DJs talking about giving up every kind of beverage except water for Lent and taking the money they will save on not purchasing lattes and mochas and sodas and donating it to the Forty Days of Water mission initiative.
40 days to bring clean water to Uganda! Give up that coffee, coke, juice, etc. & only drink water for 40 days. The money saved will go towards clean water wells in Uganda!
For the details on how to participate in the Forty Days of Water, follow this link.
I haven’t decided if I will participate or not because basically I wouldn’t be giving up anything. Probably eighty to ninety percent of what I drink every day is water. If not water, then brewed tea or iced tea that I don’t pay for because I make it myself. If I could convince Terry to give up Pepsi for Lent, now that would be an accomplishment.