Being human

Last night I remembered a little of what it was to be human. Thanks to some homeless dudes and young guys in the recovery program at the Union Gospel Mission Search and Rescue.

It was a simple reminder. All I had to do was show up, drive around in a van to the underbelly of the city of Seattle, hand out blankets, sandwiches, hugs, prayers, socks, hot chocolate, and a listening ear.

I didn’t really want to do it though. I was going to have to be out until midnight and I had a long day at work. It was raining. Yadda yadda yadda… I’m just being honest. I find I’m  pretty good at justifying my selfishness.

Through the day yesterday I was trying to come up with excuses to bail on serving the dirty and the desperate.  Should I walk in the way I profess or yet again marginalize my fundamental beliefs? Fighting that internal monologue between comfort and discomfort seems to be one of the constant tension points.

As the story goes… you already I know I showed up. I loved serving and look forward to doing it again.

To top it off I also found some joy. Which I am unabashedly in pursuit of in a hedonistic way. Joy is something that the Bible (repeat “the Bible” out-loud in a southern twang) says Jesus wants to give me. It’s a core reason I follow Jesus and a core reason I was out late last night serving. I could explain more if you’re sitting there scratching your head or giggling over the naivety of my beliefs. (Snarky comments start… now.)

Thanks to the Union Gospel Mission, John, Alex, Jacob, Joe and what used to be the other nameless few, for a great night. A night of reminding me that word human is defined as showing kindness, compassion, and approachability to the imperfections and weaknesses that plague us all.

My friends who put up with me.

East of Eden – Book Review

John Steinbeck. The best?

There is so much to say about John Steinbeck’s East of Eden that it’s almost impossible for me to find the words. So much has been written that it’s almost stupid for me to take the time. So, I will keep this short and sweet.

East of Eden in easily one of the best books of have ever read. The sheer epic proportions and scope about generations of multiple families (the Trasks and Hamiltons) kept me riveted to every page. It also introduced me to probably the most evil woman in all of literature, Cathy Ames. She makes your skin crawl.

The astounding fluidity of story (good’s triumph over evil and the human will’s ability to make that happen), the perfect character development, the topic of good and evil, the biblical references, and just the sheer understanding of human nature convinced me of Stenbeck’s genius.

A brilliant, brilliant book. If you haven’t read it you should put it on your list. It will change the way think about people, manhood, sin, family and many other weighty topics. Give it a chance.

“I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one. . . . Humans are caught—in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too—in a net of good and evil. . . . There is no other story. A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well—or ill?” – East of Eden

Happy birthday to my daughter Jane!

Jane, you are a delight to all who know you. The laughter in our home is greater, and far more often, because of your life. My heart is filled with love for my little girl with spunk. Indeed, my heart is full with the blessing of my children. Happy 2nd birthday, Jane! Love, Daddy.

Father Forgets

I story I read this morning that is worth re-printing. If your a dad, don’t ever stop trying to be the best dad you can be. Even if you have screwed up royally. Enjoy your kids tonight. I did…

Father Forgets
W. Livingston Larned

Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.

There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.

At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, “Goodbye, Daddy!” and I frowned, and said in reply, “Hold your shoulders back!”

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive – and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. “What is it you want?” I snapped.

You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding – this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.

And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bed-side in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!

It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: “He is nothing but a boy – a little boy!”

I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother’s arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.

Atlas Shrugged – An Inarticulate Man Review

I went into reading Atlas Shrugged with my eyes wide open, knowing that it was Ayn Rand’s epistle for her coined philosophical view called Objectivism, ”The concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.”

A quote from the book does a pretty good job of summarizing.

“For centuries, the battle of morality was fought between those who claimed that your life belongs to God and those who claimed that it belongs to your neighbors–between those who preached that the good is self-sacrifice for the sake of ghosts in heaven and those who preached that the good is self-sacrifice for the sake of incompetents on earth. And no one came to say that your life belongs to you and that the good is to live it.” – From Atlas Shrugged

As a Christian it’s not a world-view or a philosophy I agree with, but there are some remarkable insights that do ring true as commentary on our current culture and state of affairs. I wrote about this in a previous blog post.

Even though the book is a monster (1100 pages) the story itself is pretty compelling. What happens when the “creators” in the world get tired of being vilified and taken advantage of by the “moochers” and decide they had enough? What happens when those holding up the world, society, and progress (Atlas) decide they are done, just stop (shrug) and disappear?

As a piece of literature I found the writing to be fluid and lively except for the pages and pages of speeches given by the protagonist, John Gault. Although I did read every word of the speeches I found myself wishing that the speaker would just get on with it. Those bits are like reading Leviticus and Numbers from the Bible. You kind of want to skip them but you know you shouldn’t and feel like you may miss something if you do.

In a nutshell this book will challenge your view of God, humanity, entitlements, and whatever other beliefs you already hold. Like most literature that shapes ideas, you have to enter this book with your critical thinking and reasoning skills on high alert. Why? There is a lot of rational thought in Rand’s magnum opus. Who can argue that “The most depraved type of human being … (is) the man without a purpose.”

Be warned, this book will affect your presumptions, your mood for a few weeks (yes, you will likely be grumpy while reading), and your world-view.

So, why did I read this book when I knew it would challenge so much of what I believe? Well, I’m tired of people who ascribe to my worldview (Christianity) and literally have no clue what other worldviews exist. I realized that I have purposefully sheltered myself because of fear that my faith will not hold up. That my wordview is not strong enough against all the others in the world. Instead of sitting in a posture of fear I decided I truly want to know what shapes thought of my fellow-man. (For myself, I can happily say that my faith in Jesus Christ was not swayed. My worldview is firm. I have not adopted Objectivism as my philosophy on the purpose of life and man. So, yeah me!)

Conclusion? Although painful at times, it was certainly fun wrestling and plowing through Atlas Shrugged. It’s not for everyone. If you do choose to pick it up give yourself about three months for the reading. Also, go in with your eyes wide open. If you don’t it will shake you up and possibly leave you a bit dazed and confused. It’s heady stuff.

The Inarticulate Man

A Wondrous, Heartfelt Masterpiece with No Extra Parts | Montys Musings

If you haven’t seen Hugo yet the link below is to a great post from my brother on why you should. In my estimation an expert opinion from a  movie history buff (particularly anything Disney related) from a Children’s pastor perspective. I also consider it the best movie of the year. A beautiful, beautiful film. 

A Wondrous, Heartfelt Masterpiece with No Extra Parts | Montys Musings.

Ten More Albums for 2011

Ten more albums I enjoyed this year.

1. Two Door Cinema Club – Tourist History
2. Torches – Foster the People
3. Violator – Depeche Mode (Reliving my youth)
4. Broken Bells – Broken Bells
5. Love and War – Josh Garrels
6. Young the Giant – Young the Giant
7. Whatever’s On Your Mind – Gomez
8. Gimme Some – Peter Bjorn and John
9. Passive Me Agressive You – The Naked and Famous
10. Young Love – Mat Kearney