Thursday, July 22, 2004

growing young

yesterday i went lobstering on the edge of the atlantic with cynthia and tina delgado, two of the afterschool kids, and Phil, a software engineer who is an amateur lobsterman and a long time bootstraps volunteer.

after baiting the traps, gawking at skates and naming the lobsters (jeff, thomas and sheldon--insert when harry met sally dialogue here) i realized for the millionth time that i love children. their bright eyes, ever ready sense of wonder, infectious joy and even unrepressed sorrow remind me of what i lack.

perhaps that is the reason that rich's growing young often leaves me on the verge of tears. growing young is such a wonderful metaphor for salvation! my eyes go blank when people start talking about 'saving souls,' but the hope of recapturing the light in my eyes, rediscovering wonder and setting aside the self-rejection that regularly keeps me from truly expressing the joy and sorrow of human experience, inspires me.

Lord God, please enable me to set aside the cynicism, relational retardation and emotional indifference that are part and parcel of 'maturity.' i long to become a child, your child, once again.

thank you for tommy, who once tried to teach me about growing young. it took me four years, but i am finally starting to respond to those lessons.

Tuesday, July 20, 2004

it's official
 
we are now 'landed gentry.'
 
on a less ecstatic note, the cards are in the process of dropping one to the cubs. but i really don't mind all that much. splitting the series and maintaining our prodigious lead is good enough.

zambrano's blues
(sung to the tune of where oh where could my baby be)

oh where oh were could my baseball be
jimmy edmonds took her away from me
she went over the bleachers so i better be good
so i can stroke her seams when i leave this world

i gripped her seams on my big start
my fastball didn't get me that far
there at the plate
straight ahead
stood renteria looking good as dead
i gave him the cutter
it didn't swerve to the right
i'll never forget the sounds that night
the crackin' wood
the ball whistling past
the painful screams that i let out last

oh where oh where could my baseball be
renteria took her away from me
she went in the basket so i better be good
so i can stroke her seams when i leave this world

when i woke up
the runs were raining down
the redbirds were trotting all around
fear drippin' down my leg, water in my eyes
but i still had a chance that night
i gripped her seams
looked rolen straight in the eyes
i even ventured a sinister smile
i knew the game was close
i offered one more pitch
as soon as it was gone i knew i'd missed
now she's gone
faded into the night
i lost the game and my mind that night

oh where oh where could my baseball be
rolen took her away from me
she's gone to the bleachers so i better be good
so i can stroke her seams when i leave this world

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
we're 9 out oooooooooooooooo
i got tossed out oooooooooooo
prior's flaming out oooooooooo
we're looking wild card ooooooo
it shouldn't be this hard ooooooo
it's bartman's fault ooooooooooo
we shouldn't have destroyed that ball 
 


Monday, July 19, 2004

stuck between sublimity and sorrow
 
tomorrow morning at 11am e.s.t. kellie and i are going to close on our first home. we're purchasing a quirky, 2 bedroom condo that is just off cabot street and right behind the majestic cabot cinema. we're thrilled about settling into our new home and finally having space for relational ministry (our current residence is about the size of the closet in my parents master bedroom...hell, i've lived in dorm rooms bigger than this apartment).
 
the previous owners of the condo are andrew and megan defranza, who are close friends and absolutely remarkable disciples. megan was the registrar at gcts for several years, where she worked with the 'incomparable' bill levin, recently finished her mdiv degree and is on her way to ph. d. studies at marquette. she is one of the most thoughtful, engaging thinkers i met during my time at gcts. if they don't hire her at some point in the future i am going to summarily withdraw my non and probably never-existent contribution to the seminary's endowment. evangelicalism need more female theologians like meg and less upper middle class white guys debating the merits of patriarchy, oops...i mean complementarianism. andrew is one of the most aggressive, effective proponents of christian compassion that i have ever met. for the past five years he has been the outreach coordinator at beverly bootstraps where he has pioneered the afterschool program (that i serve in), kept dozens of benevolence programs running smoothly and responding to multiple crises every day. i wish i could provide a more adequate description of andrew, but his character and passion refuse the limitations of words. perhaps the highest compliment i can give him is that he is, like my papa pep, truly a man above reproach. i have never heard a negative word spoken about andrew or papa, and i doubt that i ever will. so, needless to say, we, as well as the rest of the beverly community, are torn up about the defranzas departure. i would live in this rat trap apartment for another five years if it meant that we could keep them in the community.
 
thus, i find myself in the midst of another tension. i am incredibly excited about our condo, but am heartbroken about their departure. of course, true to form, through their generosity the defranzas made this purchase one of the greatest gifts i have ever received, but i'll save that story for another entry.
 
thank you andrew and megan for who you are and what you've done for this community. damn you for leaving us!

Sunday, July 18, 2004

i am proud to provide you with engaging, witty and biblical devotions that will bless your week.
clippings from weavings
 
over the last couple of days, which have been delightfully lazy, i have been leafing through the latest copy of weavings. weavings is a penetrating 'journal of the christian spiritual life' that neal windham introduced me to (he also provided us with a gift subscription, which was nice). the latest edition focuses on gentleness, a fruit of the spirit which is rarely attested to in my life. for obvious reasons, i found the first statement quite convicting. the other two passages are provided for good measure.
 
"the word gentle itself bespeaks a similar rootedness in what we all share. from the latin gens, it reminds us of our common humanity--that we are a people, a race, made from this earth that sustains us all. in the middle ages, the word came to refer to the gentry: a gentleman was one who had land, family, money and power, and for that reason owed protection and care to the unentitled. an idea honored in the breach more than the observance, perhaps, but there is something in the notion of noblesse oblige--the obligations of the gentry to the poor entrusted to their generosity--that applies to any of us who have been especially blessed. to be gentle is to be generous (as the common etymology makes quite clear) and to extend thanksgiving to God and hospitality to the poor as we are able." ~Marilyn Chandler McEntyre in "A Gentle Word"
 
The Prayer of Saint Francis
 
Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace;
 
     where there is hatred, let me sow love;
 
     where there is injury, pardon;
    
     where there is doubt, faith;
 
     where there is despair, hope;
 
     where there is darkness, light;
 
     and where there is sadness, joy.
 
Grant that i may not so much seek,
    
     to be consoled as to console;
 
     to be understood as to understand;
 
     to be love as to love;
 
     for it is in giving that we receive,
 
     it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
 
     and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
 
"Reading is the soul's food, light, lamp, refuge, consolation, and the spice of every spiritual savor. It feeds the hungry, it illumines the person sitting in the darkness; to refugees from shipwreck or war it comes with bread. It comforts the contrite heart, it contains the passions of the body with the hope of reward. When temptations attack, it counters them with the teaching and examples of the saints...In the bread box of sacred reading are breads baked in an oven, breads roasted on a grill, or cooked in a frying pan, breads made with the first fruits and sprinkled with oil, and barley cakes. So, when this table is approached by people from any walk of life, age, sex, status or ability, they will all be filled with the refreshment that suits them." ~Peter of Selle, Selected Works