cairns

Reconnected with another old friend tonight, a young man I am very proud of — overcame mistakes of youth to build a life and serve others.

Conversation quickly revealed that his early success in life led to some bad decisions, worse results, and (I wish this part was surprising) rejection by his church.  Another group claiming to represent the God who would die to be with us, by refusing to affiliate with somebody honest enough to admit they are not perfect.  The “we” I have been part of most of my life makes me want to puke.  How do we mess the good news of God’s love up so badly and so often?  Do we really understand it in our own lives?

I am playing with a new idea.  I would like to start getting together on some regular basis with this young man, my “red path” friend, maybe the slightly older friend who has so often told me what is around the next bend in the road, anybody honest enough to be themselves!  Instead of a being a “church,” we would just be us.  Instead of trying to “save” each other we would support each other.  Instead of “applying the Bible with love” in order to pass judgment on each other, we would accept each other as we all stumble homeward.

If this sounds interesting to anybody else who lives near Evansville, think about it and let me know.  I am serious about just getting together with some other people who are ready to be real, to be human and humane, to be together.

peace,

Greg

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Realizing that language is composed of symbols, words, and sounds that are designed to evoke a mental/emotional image of reality, it occurs to me that we often have committed the fallacy of treating the words, even the thoughts, as the reality. The words are not the reality, the thoughts are at best constructions and sense making of the deeper Truth. Only starting Tomlinson, and am already finding a resonance with thoughts and reflections of recent nights.

A critical realist understanding of God-talk Maintains that there is an objectively knowable reality called God who exists independently of human minds, but then stresses that this reality cannot be descibed in any literal sense; that all the models, metaphors, and images we use to speak of God are mere human devices to grapple with that which is unspeakable. (p. 37)

“In the beginning was the Tao…”

peace

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I read the first chapter of Lewis’ Caspian to my fourth graders.  We just have this book and Final Battle to go.  Also read and gave them copies of James Whitcomb Riley’s “Little Orphant Annie” as the storm darkened and the wind blew.  Spent time talking with them about how to thrive and avoid hassle in public school environments.  Confronted a little girl who thought lying followed by throwing a crying fit was the best response to being caught with gum, and two little boys exchanging a toy right after we talked about staying with the rules.  They really do not understand what a big deal future teachers will make of such small things as they transition from being considered “cute little kids” to adolescents.  Two more identical toys materialized on my desk after school! Ha! They made me laugh with that!  Also, answered a student’s questions about how there can be acid in rain.  Helped them work through how to think through puzzling situations by asking me questions about a murder in Uganda….and laughed with them all as we braved the wind on the way to the busses.

It was all important.  Most of it was fun.  All of it was loving and helping them grow.  And none of it is in the damn standards or on the minimum competency exam the public believes is guiding us to excellence.  Only teach what will be tested?  I think not.  Fire me for teaching too much.

peace

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My sixteen year old looked like she was bouncing right back, then her stomach revolted.  Home the rest of the week, doctor and meds yesterday, trying to eat today…one step away from being admitted for loss of fluids and nutrition.  Going to try and go along to see our African friends tonight and get out of the house.

Meanwhile the oldest is waiting on the arrival of funds to cover the cost of a vehicle she already paid a deposit to hold and they appear to be in cyber limbo — out of one account but three days later not deposited in the target account.

Masters students waiting until the last minute to submit work, ask for help on work, say they need extensions on work…

One daughter calling about unexpected death in an acquaintance’s family.  Another daughter moping to not miss the attention or something.  Wife showing symptoms again as soon as antibiotics ran out…

Makes me wonder where we ever got the illusion of living as anything but helpless and small. 

Where do we get the illusion that we control life?  What is it like for our brothers and sisters who live outside the hedge of our economic privilege?  How can the theology of my youth possibly be attractive to them with its no-doubts tolerated everything works just like this ‘as long as you have faith’ lies?  What world were my elders preparing me to live in? 

I choose the one I am in!  God, grace, truth, and my brothers and sisters live here.  Keep the flannel boards.  I’ll bring some gas and a match (and some marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers) for the next time we meet.

peace

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tired tonight,

too many things to do, too many papers to grade, too many kids who do not know that they need to know, too few teachers who fight to help them figure it out, too little sun, too much dark, too many books to read, too many things i have to do, too many things i want to do, too much commotion in the house of a new grandparent who got used to teenagers and an emptying nest…

time for hot tub, sleep, and starting again!      peace

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