Blog on the Lillypad
Saturday, October 11, 2003
 | The Mighty Hunters:
Gerald's Father (OLD), Gerald (ELDER), and Gerald's Son (YOUNGER) have come home safely from their boar hunt! Whereas last year all three bagged some game, this was a tougher year. It would be a bitter irony to many men to get nothing while their beloved son bags two boars and also wins a trophy in shooting. However, Gerald is THE definition of proud father, and so when "the boy" bagged a 180 pound boar, followed the next night by a 44 pound piglet, and then matched skills against a group of skilled gunsmiths and won a trophy for excellent shooting, Gerald secured bragging rights. His own father also bagged a small boar. Gerald, ever the perfectionist, got a clean view of a boar but tried too hard to pick a spot for a perfect shot that would not ruin the meat. Regrettably, the boar fled before Gerald took the shot! |
Later, (don't know how this could have happened), Our Hero sighted on upturned ears and the top of a head in the brush. He took the proper pose, sighted, and fired, but it was a bust. Clean miss! I was surprised at this report, for Gerald is a man who knows guns and shooting. But he faithfully records all hits and misses, so we will have to take his word for it. He missed.
One has to wonder why Lady Luck would ever desert Gerald, whose sunny nature and offhand courage and kindness could coax blessing from the sternest of the fates. But all was not lost. Back at the bunkhouse, a group of hunters who fared much better could not get all of their pork back on the plane with them, and so OLD, ELDER, and YOUNGER toted away two 150-pound coolers of meat for themselves. Perhaps Lady Luck just wanted to do things her way!
In spite of not bagging anything, Gerald writes of pleasant evenings at a sumptuous dinner table, then shooting pool, enjoying beers, and relaxing. Gerald never met a stranger, so I knew his time away from work with his Pa and son would be good for him. And I don't doubt that all the hunters had a better time for Gerald being there. Welcome back, Gerald! It was a great story!
 | CASH: American Recordings I
Of the four CDs that Johnny Cash released through American, I believe that the first and the last are the most powerful. His first CD, dated as 1994 on copyright, presents him with his voice still very much intact. I was surprised when I reviewed the publishing history at how many songs Cash had written himself. In terms of the Johnny Cash we all knew and loved for years, "Delia's Gone" (written by Cash) and "Tennessee Stud" are old classics that he sings with a maturity and pared-down musical accompaniment that really brings out his best as a ballad singer. "Tennessee Stud" was sung at the Viper Room, and the interplay from the small, appreciative audience just adds to the flavor. Several of the songs written by Cash have touches of the sacred about them. His references to the atoning work of Christ and the need for redemption are too frequent to miss. Of these songs, his own work, "Redemption," was incredible: sincere, heartfelt, and doctrinally accurate; also beautifully sung. "Why Me Lord" also penetrates the believer's heart with a ringing sincerity. |
In spite of a clear enunciation of belief in Christ, Cash's work doesn't shrink from what is ugly, nor from what is darkly funny. The troubling account in "Delia's Gone" has a nice companion in the bleakness of "The Man Who Couldn't Cry," which is funny only in the grimmest sense. Tenderness and a grand humility resonate in "Like a Soldier" as well as "Beast in Me." The only pieces that really failed to do anything for me were "Let the Train Blow the Whistle," which I thought went on too long without anythng left for the listener, and "Down by the Train," which I just couldn't figure out, theologically, (part of the trouble of being a Fundamentalist listening to Johnny Cash, I suppose.) Additionally, "Thirteen" was really well sung but too grim for me. "Bird on a Wire" was a great showcase for his voice, but I've heard that song lampooned too much to enable me to appreciate it properly.
Yet, all that being said, it's that voice of his, and the sincerity in it that will bring me back again and again (four times so far) to this CD to sit and listen--and re-evaluate. It's entirely possible that what I find lacking in a few of the songs today will grow and develop as I come to appreciate the care that Johnny Cash obviously put into this labor of love. I'd recommend this CD to anybody who really wants to listen to Johnny Cash sing after a lifetime of work, performance, thought, and reflection. For me, the high point was "Redemption," a song I'd never heard before that called forth my emotions, my own Christian experience of needing Christ every moment, and my appreciation of Cash's confession of faith implicit in the song.
Friday, October 10, 2003
 | REDEMPTION
Johnny Cash From the hands it came down From the side it came down From the feet it came down And ran to the ground Between heaven and hell A teardrop fell In the deep crimson dew The tree of life grew |
And the blood gave life
To the branches of the tree
And the blood was the price
That set the captives free
And the numbers that came
Through the fire and the flood
Clung to the tree
And were redeemed by the blood
From the tree streamed a light
That started the fight
Round the tree grew a vine
On whose fruit I could dine
My old friend Lucifer came
Fought to keep me in chains
But I saw through the tricks
Of six-sixty-six
And the blood gave life
To the branches of the tree
And the blood was the price
That set the captives free
And the numbers that came
Through the fire and the flood
Clung to the tree
And were redeemed by the blood
From his hands it came down
From his side it came down
From his feet it came down
And ran to the ground
And a small inner voice
Said "You do have a choice."
The vine engrafted me
And I clung to the tree
And the blood gave life
To the branches of the tree
And the blood was the price
That set the captives free
And with the numbers that came
Through the fire and the flood
I clung to the tree
And was redeemed by the blood
=====
*This song, written by Johnny Cash, can be found on the first American CD that Cash recorded.
 | The Johnny Cash CDs have Arrived
When I checked my mailbox yesterday, my four Johnny Cash CDs (his last four, through the American label) had arrived. I pulled out the first one that came most easily from all the shrink wrap and put it in my car CD player. It's the third CD in the series. I listened to it as I ran errands. Definitely, his age shows in this CD. His voice is the voice of a older man. But it's still a powerful and resonant voice. And his choice of music is intriguing. Some people have written that the third CD is good but the least powerful of the set, and others have said it is the best. His song "Nobody" had me laughing by the end, and several of the ballad-type songs were haunting. "The Mercy Seat" was almost surreal---a very unusual song. The entire CD was more thought-provoking than outright entertaining. I wouldn't play it as background music at a BBQ or get-together; there's not much in it that's fluff. But a fan of Johnny Cash or a connoisseur of eclectic music styles would consider it a must. The least powerful song was "Solitary Man." The sentiments in it are almost comical to an adult---this guy who cannot keep a woman faithful, and Cash did not sound convincing to me when he sang it. But by the end of the CD, he takes the listener to himself, and you're traveling with him through an experience of his music and voice. |
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
 | Working Woman
It seems that in a day, or a week at most, I went from being physically strong, in shape, and able, to being handicapped and then sidelined by these back problems. And now I feel frail some of the time---diminished. I spent about two hours on concrete yesterday, wearing my steel-toed shoes and hard hat (and safety glasses) to go over the lyophilizer (a freeze dryer) at work. We're building a new vaccine plant, and though I am billed as a tech writer, I spend time going over the equipment that has to be documented for FDA approval. |
| When I got back to the office trailer from the new building, I kicked off my steel-toed shoes and set down my hard hat as I collapsed into my desk chair, but I was so tired from all that time walking and standing on concrete (sometimes I have dizzy spells when I am standing in that building) that I couldn't finish the last hour at work and went home 30 minutes early. Today it was more of the same, though I withstood it better. I wouldn't make it without my inversion table, which I have come to rely on, especially on days when I have to walk around the new building and its concrete floors. |  |
 | There are a lot of systems that run through the lyophilizer: nitrogen gas, for one thing, as well as scalding hot water, scalding hot steam, pressurized air, and city water. So there's a lot to learn. And I am coming along nicely, I think. But the spectre of becoming too old to work like I used to is starting to worry me. I have worked all my life, and I realize that I've taken fewer rests than most people. And now suddenly I am tired, achey, and at the end of myself when the day is over. I hope that my current client will decide to hire me as a permanent employee. That would certainly make life easier to bear. |
Tuesday, October 07, 2003
 | Wabi
I’ve been reading PERSIMMON WIND lately, a memoir of a martial artist who visits Japan to see his aging master. He talks about the concept of “Wabi,” a word that literally translates from the Japanese language as “poverty,” but it has taken on numerous connotations and nuances as it has been applied to a lifestyle. |
I best understand (and was first exposed to) Wabi in the admiration that I and my classmates felt when we saw the worn, graying, frayed black belt of our lead instructor. Indeed, as I have come up through the ranks, I have known some men who have worn black “tokaido” uniforms (which are ultra heavy weight and last forever) for so long that belt and gi have both worn to gray and are frayed in places.
 | While class etiquette forbad us from wearing anything ripped or torn, there was a lot of respect for things that were neatly mended, or worn with age, or skillfully patched. The training hall was not a place for slovenly or slipshod care. But in the training hall, we prized that which showed age, familiarity, and long use. There was an easy unity of body and clothing in the instructors who had well worn, well mended uniforms. Truly, the uniform made the man. |
Wabi is a style of naturalness, which implies including the effects of time in the value of appearance, mood, and setting. Remove the embellishments. Take away the clumsy grandeur, and you are left with a spirit of natural ease and beauty. The samurai blade, so prized for its purity of steel and refined hammering process, was oiled carefully and wrapped in thinnest tissue. Yet the leather guard and the pommel showed the years of use and training. What warrior, faced with a costly battle for his life, chooses a new sword? The wise warrior takes that which comes easily into his hand, the sword wed to him by time and use, though he has cared for it well.
| Wabi speaks of a respect for what we truly are—creatures of time and space, needing tools, living according to the rhythm of all life. The house with its hardwood floors carefully polished, gives off a soft glow as the sunlight graces it. This is the décor of Wabi: showing the glory of the sun rising and setting. To keep a floor inlaid with gold (so that it shines all the time) is mere artifice. What some view as grandeur, others view as vulgar ostentation. Wabi aesthetics are applied to pottery (especially the pottery used for the ritual of serving tea), painting, architecture, and conversation. Wabi is a way of thought, a means of finding the best by bringing forth what occurs in the environment as part of everyday use and being alive. |  |
The concept of Wabi is best when it infuses the entire life. And it is this concept of Wabi that the Lord Himself gave us when He admonished us to not be concerned with the glories of this world, but instead pointed out how gloriously God has bedecked all nature with beauty. We Christians do well to remember that Christ so valued what was real and natural in His creation that He became a part of it. He left the astounding beauty of heavenly riches to dwell among mortal men because He is our creator and chose to place value on us.
Christ values the true labor and patience that He has put into His creation. All praise and glory are His; all gold and silver, all honors and praise. Yet He valued something more---His own patient work in His own blood-bought children. Like the worn hilt of the sword; or the soft glow of the hardwood, we can give evidence of this great glory by bending before it and being taken up by Him. We can demonstrate to others that a Master has polished us, used us, and may take us up at any time because we are familiar to His Hand.
 | The temptation in Christianity is to amass a following, to live a middle-class life of comfort, to get ahead, to be successful. And yes, I have heard that old refrain: “It’s for my family!” And yet the beauty of Wabi is that the person learns a much deeper and more profound appreciation for beauty, décor, rest, and life itself in discarding outward decoration. A décor, and therefore a mindset, that focuses on a simplicity and naturalness in beauty finds a greater satisfaction, always at hand, in the beauty of everyday life. |
 | Secret Radio
Secret Radio by Grace Jovian is an account of life at an Independent Fundamentalist Baptist College 20 years ago. If some of the contents of this blog puzzle you, Secret Radio may be your best introduction to the thin strata of Christendom known as Independent Baptist Fundamentalist ("IFB"). Her ongoing story is an entertaining way to learn of this increasingly corrupt, decreasingly biblical religious movement that was once a hallmark of Scriptural knowledge, serious personal study of the Bible, and moral uprightness. |
| When I first responded to the call of Grace and left the Roman Catholic Church (at the ripe old age of 14, declaring I would no longer pray to statues or participate in the Mass), Fundamentalism was not strictly Baptist (though mostly), and it had an emphasis on personal study of the Bible and obedience to it. In spite of a few flaws in outlook, this emphasis on personal study and growing proficiency in knowledge of the Scripture kept Fundamentalism pertinent. My own church had a lot of truck drivers and steel workers in it, and it was not uncommon to see a shelf in the homes of such men adorned with a STRONG'S Concordance and THOMPSON's Chain Reference, as well as a few books by Spurgeon and probably a much-thumbed PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Our membership was over 80% former Roman Catholic. We had classes on doctrine. In my Christian high school, my sophomore Bible class was Church History, and we used a cut-down version of Wylie's HISTORY OF PROTESTANTISM. And along with this, there were sermons on modesty, not going to movies, tea-totalism, and---of course---being a witness for Christ to all mankind. |  |
Somewhere in there, Fundamentalism fell into the hands of man. The dress code became even more rigid and obedience to it became a major issue. Personal evangelism took on the name "soul winning," and many preachers dared to claim that soul winning was the only real fruit of the Spirit. The way to get a person saved was to have him or her repeat a sinner's prayer. There was no watching for the work of the Spirit: repetition was enough. Conversion came down to whether or not the person would repeat the prayer, not whether or not the Holy Spirit was at work in the heart.
| And belief and practice were put under the rule of the pastor. No more emphasis on personal study of the Bible and personal responsibility to it. Preachers in Fundamentalism are like mini-popes, demanding complete allegiance and exercising their authority with a blind, heedless self-assurance that they are speaking with authority, no matter how stupid, erroneous, and unbiblical their statements. And the great blight of "KJV-only" (the belief that the King James version of the Bible is an infallible translation) has settled over the movement, though there are still preachers left who understand that a translation can be only a translation, and man cannot produce a perfect, infallible translation in English of a Greek and Hebrew text. But in a movement where ignorance is essential to blind obedience, and blind obedience is a great and holy virtue, ignorance will soon have complete rule. |  |
These days, gross sin and corruption have settled over the Independent Fundamental Baptist movement. Fundamentalism is nearly all Baptist now. The IFB-KJVonly side of it emphasizes a strict dress code, "repeat-after-me" type evangelism called soul winning, belief in (yet a high degree of ignorance of) the King James version of the Bible as an infallible translation; and complete, unswerving loyalty to the pastor of the church. Reading the Bible is still claimed but not done, and serious study of the Bible---since it would debunk the KJVonly myth---is not really encouraged. People are encouraged to believe what the preacher tells them to believe. Into this movement has crept all kinds of corruption and sin: pedophilia, sodomy, child molesting, railing against others, promotion by character assassination, flexible ethics, adultery, and every other sign that the Spirit has fled. Secret Radio is a fictionalized account that will give outsiders an opportunity to see the history of the movement and a "typical" IFB college (any one of a dozen or so lamentable, unaccredited institutions, usually tied to a local church, whose main purpose is to enslave college-aged students to do church work and get them to actually pay for the privilege of doing it, while promising them education and training through the experience).
Monday, October 06, 2003
| Oh What a Day!
The sun squared Saturn today. [groans in relief.] That just means a day of work, probably facing either a lot of details, new rules in one of your endeavours, different rules, or a structure that's been put in place that you have to learn. As it is a one-day transit, it's probably over by now. For lots of people, it was felt in the workplace, but others may have felt it in relationships, romance, or money. Just a rigorous Monday for most of us. The Lord who made the stars has ordained both tough days and good days, and Saturn is our reminder that we labor for what we want and few things on this earth are free. I came home and got into my inversion table for 15 minutes. It felt great to let the cramped muscles of my back stretch. I nearly dozed off, hanging by my ankles at about 5 degrees short of being completely upside down. |
 | More on 'Hurt' Video
Johnny Cash's final video, "Hurt," is a masterpiece. This is one of those times when I am thankful for a cable connection. It plays easily. You can get it from any of the following sources, though you may have to hunt around each page for the link: |
| I've got the MP3 for listening right here, but I'm telling you, the video part is haunting and forms an integral part of the song. Cash's final song is utterly truthful, very sad, and yet not bitter. It moves hauntingly over images of decay and age (including Cash himself) and is interspersed with clips of him as a younger, stronger man. It is filled with regret but not bitterness; humility in the face of his own frailty and yet dignity. Images of Christ being nailed to the cross seem to indicate Cash's recognition of his own sin and conversion, but you may have to watch it a few times to put the images together. In telling us a hard truth about our own mortality, Johnny Cash once again tells it in song, directly, with poignant honesty and simplicity. |  |
Sunday, October 05, 2003
 | Thanks to Rebecca (Ra)
Thanks to Rebecca Anderson for the link to this blog from her blog. Ra is a fanfiction writer who has done some good Doctor Who stories and now specializes in Harry Potter fanfic. You can catch her blog at http://rjanderson.blogspot.com/ |
