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Bloged in culture by rod Thursday March 31, 2005

I try to be very careful about how I use my blogspace. The majority of blogs that I happen upon seem to be commentary on news headlines. Compilations of the news for those without aggregators. Politics, sociology, etc. Surely we don’t need another from someone like me. But sometimes I just can’t keep my mouth shut (fingers still).
Late this afternoon I was helping a student with his mid-term project for my MUS3302. We had to hit the net for a moment and the computer in the lab where we were working was set to compuserve.com as the home page in the browser. So we happened upon a collection of headlines and advertisements. Normally, I wouldn’t even notice what page comes up when a browser opens as I would just quickly click on to where I was headed, but we were talking as the page loaded and when I turned around, I was struck by a very ironic juxtaposition of headline and advert. Ok, so maybe I will keep my mouth shut. Here’s a capture of the webpage. You create your own commentary about the irony of the woman in the bottom left hand corner of the page, and the advert in the top right corner.
I shed tears.

holy week reflections

Bloged in apprenticeship, easter by rod Wednesday March 30, 2005

Midst the world spinning around, even the church spins in this moment that links past and future. It takes effort to stop with time, glimpse eternity and feel the weight that is both inherited and lifted in a single moment. It takes effort to stand in the panic in all of heaven and earth and under the earth during the search for the One who is worthy. It is a mystery we celebrate during holy week and on Resurrection day. Confusing and sobering.
A confusion that is rewarded with pain and grace and a peace that comes without understanding. That is, once one is content not to understand.


Bloged in apprenticeship by rod Tuesday March 29, 2005

It is a terrifying prospect, to be willing to learn when you don’t know what you will be taught. To completely leave one’s self at the mercy of the teacher, to apprentice to a mystery.
Ok, maybe not the first time, or the first thing. But once a first lesson is learned, one realizes the possible risks at leaving one’s self so utterly vulnerable.
The lesson is not in any book. The best of the books merely reveal that there is a lesson to be learned, are an invitation to the apprenticeship. But the lesson must be received from the teacher. Most often it is painful. Like surgery - torn flesh as the undesirable is extracted. Often it feels like betrayal by the teacher himself. One can never know, and one never sees it coming. Blindsided by truth. The red pill. Like an ingenious twist at the end of a movie with “to be continued”, one is terrified to see the sequel. How much surgery can one endure to be made well? How much suffering can one endure to identify with the teacher?
How many times can one be offered the blue pill before he swallows it?

agnus dei

Bloged in easter by rod Sunday March 27, 2005

though the sorrow may last for the night,
his joy comes in the morning

ex obscuritate in lucem

sabado negro

Bloged in easter, poems by rod Saturday March 26, 2005

From here, this is the blackest night,
Paschal moon eclipsed.
This is the night of deafening silence.
Tears, pain, and memories.
Scattered friends.
Paralyzing remorse at cowardice and denial.
Doubt, lost hope, lost direction and
shattered dreams.

paschal moon

Bloged in easter, luna see, poems, prayers by rod Friday March 25, 2005

the lentels of my life bear your provision
death passes by, but may not enter.
but you never pass by.
you open the door, sit at my table and
break the bread and pour the wine.

klangfarben melodie

Bloged in church, community, poems by rod Thursday March 24, 2005

All night long, frogs. Frogs all night. Tree frogs and pond frogs singing together to produce a choral frog song. Listening closely, one can distinguish the unique timbre of individual voices, but together, they produce a nocturnal klangfarben melodie in which a constant, composite pitch is maintained but as voices are added and drop out, the composite is constantly shifting tone color, volume, texture.
No doubt, any two of these frogs are singing dreadfully out-of-tune with one another. Any one of them sounds squeaky, or chirpy, or downright burpy. All together though, their song sounds entirely different. A sonorous, constant, nocturnal klangfarben kaleidescope of aural happiness.
Sing on, little froggies. Sing on.

blossoms and butterflies

Bloged in love and marriage, poems by rod Wednesday March 23, 2005

What woman would even be noticed in a field full of daffodils?
What daffodils?


Bloged in apprenticeship, life, poems by rod Tuesday March 22, 2005

When a man inhales,
his chest rises.
A deep breath, a prepared sigh
is a physical surrender.
He opens himself,
presents, and becomes vulnerable.
Once the breath is taken in,
there is still one last chance -
one can still decide to forego the sigh,
to retain the breath and leave himself open
and his chest uplifted.
If he, defeated, chooses to exhale
so that his chest collapses, his shoulders hunch and
he becomes closed,
He can always choose to breathe in again.

hey vern

Bloged in life, luna see, seasons by rod Sunday March 20, 2005

I overslept this morning. Actually, I wanted to get up, shower and be ready for the day before Spring arrived. But my alarmS went off and I shut them off without actually becoming coherent. I was jolted awake from inside my head and sat up in bed. I glanced at the clock thinking it might be noon. It was 7:32am and I realized that in two minutes it would be spring. I laid back down on my side and looked out the window to the east to watch spring arrive. The sun was just beginning to show itself through the trees in the back of the house in exactly the same way that 2005 arrived. I stared out and felt the moment when the sun passed over the equator and night and day were of equal length. As it passed, I felt the moment when day became longer than night and light stronger than dark.
I thought it apt that spring should arrive at precisely this time of day and on Resurrection day and Palm Sunday even. The sun was in the exact same position as the waning snow moon that was only visible for a few minutes as it rose before the sun washed it out. It was as if she was being replaced by the first light of spring. The dawn of spring. A solar blossom. It was a sunny, warm, and glorious day.
Welcome back, Vern. We’ve been waiting for you.

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