Stephen King on Recovery

I'm reading the Dark Tower series right now, and am at the beginning of the third volume. As I was reading, this paragraph hit me like a ton of bricks:

From The Waste Lands by Stephen King, p.25,

He knew the guilty feelings were stupid and pointless, be he also knew he felt more comfortable doing this work when Roland and Susannah were out of camp. Old habits, it seemed, sometimes died hard. Beating heroin was child's play compared to beating your childhood.

It is amazing how our childhood stays with us, and all the bad memories haunt us. I didn't even have a bad childhood--my parents weren't addicts and they weren't abusive. The worst thing was that we had to lie to our grandmother all the time about my mom working outside of the home. My parents were terrified of my grandmother's words and judgement so they hid the fact that my mom worked. I would have to say that that fear has been transferred to me. My grandmother has been dead for many years, but that secrecy and fear is very much alive.

Would Jesus drop an "F"-bomb?

One of my favorite bloggers is a Baptist preacher down in Texas who has a website called RealLivePreacher.com. I like him because he has written about some of the same struggles I have had, like depression, and he writes in a non-pretentious, gritty style. He doesn't waste words. One of my recent favorites was an entry called A Religion of Denial. He ends with the sentence, "And one day he will have to cough the fucker up."

Man, there is power in that sentence. There was a lot of power in the whole piece, but the last sentence put the exclamation point on it.

You don't often hear Baptist preachers use the "f-word"--actually he's the only one I ever heard use it. I've heard priests (Catholic and Orthodox) use it before, but when they've used it, it has always seemed appropriate--although I was shocked the first time. I remember a priest when I was getting too analytical telling me I was, "mind fucking the thing to death." He got the point across that I was stuck and needed to move on.

Of course, on RLP's (Real Live Preacher) blog, there were comments about how his language was inappropriate and they tried to lay on him some of the WWJD? guilt trip shit on him. He held his ground and some of us defended him--although he really didn't need it.

So would Jesus drop an "F-Bomb"? Actually, I can imagine him doing it as he turns over the money changers tables or giving his seven woes: "You Pharisees are a bunch of fucking white washed tombs...". That is a little punchier and to the point than, "Thou art... blah, blah, blah."

Some credit for this goes to andytrevathan who wrote in her profile of her hobbies: "Cursing (it is an art form.)"

Why don't you move to Saudi?

Most work mornings I head to Albertsons to pick up a muffin for my breakfast. On many mornings there is a caucasian woman dressed in Muslim garb getting something from the Starbuck's inside Albertsons. Usually, I think what a great country this is that allows such diversity, but this morning, on the 5th anniversary of the WTC attack, I felt like walking up to her and saying: "Why don't you move to Saudi Arabia?" She has embraced the Islamic religion, why doesn't she embrace Islamic culture and move to an Isalmic state? I guess it must be nice driving a car and going to Starbucks--things she couldn't do in Saudi Arabia.

I wish we would get bin Laden. I don't want to see him at trial, I just want to see him dead. Preferably he could be killed with bullets that were dipped in pig's blood so that he would be "unclean" and go to the Muslim version of Hell.

Musical Blogs

I decided to move blogs again. You never know where I may post again, but I decided I needed something less covert. Then again, that will entail not writing about some things...some things I probably should not write about. I suppose my bitching should be for a private journal or to God, but not out there in this virtual space. Hopefully I'll take more time for composition so that there will be better quality. Heck, if I do write something too much, I can call it "fiction" like Franky Schaffer.

Jesus' Funeral

As part of the Holy Week services every year, the Orthodox church basically has a funeral service/wake on the evening of Good Friday/Holy Friday. Jesus body is taken down from the cross, wrapped in linen, put in the tomb, and lamentations are sung. The lamentations always move me as they are sung by a mature Lebanese woman from our parish who sings them in Arabic which is close enough to Aramaic to my uneducated ears. When I close my eyes and hear that foreign language, it is like being transported back to that first Holy Friday. I imagine that is what good liturgy is supposed to do--to make you remember and participate as if you were actually there at the events that are being commemorated. Part of that magic to me is hearing the lamentations start off in Arabic. I don't think it would be the same if it was English, Greek, or Russian. The Arabic makes me imagine I am hearing the women who were there at the cross lamenting Jesus death. The lamentations are also what helps to set up the Pascha (Easter) service for such joy. It's like experiencing an emotional roller coaster--from the horrible death to the glorious resurrection.

Big Brass Ones

Edwards X-15 Crossfield

Today on the news it was announced that the wreckage of a plane flown by Scott Crossfield was found in Georgia. The guy was 84 and still a pilot. He was in the brotherhood of Edwards Air Force Base test pilots that included such luminaries as Chuck Yeager and Gordo Cooper (Mercury 7). Crossfield set many speed and altitude records during his stint as a test pilot. To do what he did he had to have great big gigantic brass .... cajones. He was also one helluva an engineer as well. May his memory be eternal.

A Sermon in a Vase

Last night, Monday, I went to the "Bridegroom Service ". The Bridegroom Services are generally held on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday evenings of Holy Week in the Orthodox Church. On Sunday evening, the Gospel reading contained the story of Jesus cursing the fig tree. I didn't hear it Sunday night because I was having Easter dinner with my family (wife & kids are Baptist). But, I was able to hear it being recalled during some of the readings from the service book. As I heard it recalled, I saw a vase sitting next to the royal doors of the iconostasis which held some palms from the morning of Palm Sunday. As I was staring at the vase hearing about the withering of fig tree, I could see the withering of the palm leaves--however, their circumstances were much different. When the fig tree was cursed, in a short matter of time the whole tree withered up and died. The fig tree withered because it was cursed. The palm leaves, OTOH, were blessed Sunday morning by our priest and yet they were still withering albeit much more slowly than the fig tree.

I didn't have a chance to look into the bottom of the vase to see if it was out of water. I thought, "maybe the palms just need water?" But, I had another thought, "these palms demonstrate the life of Jesus followers and of the church." In case you didn't know it, Palm Sunday is one of the most highly attended services in the Orthodox Church. Sometimes it can even have more attendance than Pascha/Easter since the one Pascha service is long and typically runs from 11pm to 1:30am--and sometimes even later. Understandably, some people with young children, might show up for Palm Sunday, but not for the marathon Pascha service. .....but, as I was attending the Bridegroom Service, attendance was pretty sparse. On Monday, all the excitement of the Palm Sunday service, the procession of the children with the palms, and the Palm Sunday dinner were forgotten in the midst of the humble Bridegroom Service. I guess it was quite like Jesus' ministry where he had moments of great excitement and crowds (like Palm Sunday), and then great moments of loneliness and abandonment like Gethsemane and Golgotha. It is easy to imagine all the palm leaves drying up and turning yellow shortly after Jesus' triumphant entry. In our lives it seems pretty easy to get caught up in our normal business and forget/ignore the fervor we experienced and felt during spiritual "highs". It is easy for our life to become like a palm branch in which the life in it slowly leaks out, withers up, and turns hard and yellow even though it was previously blessed.

The liturgical life of the church is designed to foster our spiritual life but how often do we/I neglect it? Let us be like the wise virgins who kept oil in their lamps waiting for the bridegroom to appear.

New Tech Spy: First Drug to reverse Gray Hair

New Tech Spy: First Drug to reverse Gray Hair

According to the article, L'oreal has invented a pill to reduce graying of the hair. Instead of hair, I wish they could invent something less vain like a pill to reverse your spouse's hate or disinterest. I'd be willing to pay for a pill like that...but just for gray hair, I don't think so.