You Too?

While the Cinnamon Free Unity Reformed Church consults their moderator (the honorable Dr. Phil), and throw eggs at one another, and the Pakastanian goat herders attend seminars on the effects of paedo-baptism on pre-lapsarian covenental thinking, I sit here wishing for a front porch for the enjoyingment of rest and the Porter in my fridge. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have discovered St. Anne's Public House.

Being Made Real

As I grow older I find that miss one main thing, or envy it, of young people of other times and cultures. Myth. I did not grow up among dryads, fawns, or fairies. All the stories I ever knew were real. Blood ran through the viens of all my heroes. So, too, in time, they all became fallible. They were not big enough. They were real, like me, and so, like me, wer not true. Their virtues were admirable, even attainable. They really climbed the highest peaks, and proved that I need not try. My world got smaller. Then I discovered, among other wonders, elves. Elves are elegant and artistic, and they are craftsmen and warriors. They are immortal, unless they are in battle; they are only vulnerable in acts of bravery or treachoury. Elves are not real, but they are true. I can never fully understand or be an elf, but I can always aspire toward one.

And so I find that there is a constant battle between realism and truth, especially in religion. We find ourselves explaining how Jonah could survive, in not a fish but a whale, for so long. But the point wasn't the realism, it was the truth. Jonah sinned, was cut off, convicted, repented, and used by God. It is not that realism and truth are absolutely opposed. Rather, they are prioritized wrongly. Truth produces reality. If we pursue reality it is like trying to drink an ocean. It is too much for anyone. But to pursue truth is like swimming in the same ocean. You can explore it, be refreshed by it, never exhausting its reachesh, and it will make you real.

Similarly, our faith is one of symbols. Yes, they were and are real, but they are, more importantly, true. There are, in our tale, water, blood,bread, trees, wine, all part of the story of Truth. When we are wasshed in the water, drink the wine, eat the bread, and are faithful to the Truth, we become part of the story. We become part of the Truth. We are made real.

What this looks like fleshed out is always amazing. I have been blessed to know a few men whose lives are flesh and blood testiments to complete dedication to the Truth of Jesus Christ. They are not symbolized by a romantic obsession to some idealism or pragmatic sentimentalism. They are characterized by a whole-hearted, practical dedication to seeing the whole Word of God worked out in their every day lives. The are warriors and poets. They fight dragons by pulling weeds and teaching proberbs to their sons. They woo their fair maidens by dailing laying down their lives, as Christ did for the church, for their wives. They are fiercely ordinary men. They live and die, not for systematics, but for the law of God. It is in their hearts, on their gates, and they teach to their children as they walk in the way. It makes them real.

Running, really, really fast

Sometimes people are induced to do crazy things. And then they love it (even if they fail miserably). And so it is that I joined the CTK softball team. Every monday we valiant few would march bravely onto the diamond, cheered incessantly by our adoring throngs (mostly my sisters). Sure, we could barely catch, and we could barely hit, but that's not the point, is it? Okay, so we got our cute little hinies thrashed, soundly, but we looked good doing it (thank you, exta hold hair gel). I mean... uh... that we had fun. Lots of fun. Plus there was usually lemonade, brownies, gatorade, or watermelon afterwards. I'd spend an hour being utterly humiliated for that, any day. Besides, we won one game (I haven't googled the word "forfeit" yet, but I'll let you know).

On to things I can do. It seems that dancing fever is catching on. I called two dances last month, and I'm getting ready for one next week, all outside my regular social group (church). This next one I'll even be playing some live music (while Donkey Boy calls). I guess I'd better get back to Mel Bay's "First Time Fiddler".

Guess Who's Back

Always one to be on the cutting edge of scandal, I have left you all to wonder for the last months what I have been up to. I have no intentions of enlightening you now. But perhaps I will drop a note here and there to make you all scratch your heads and wonder what goes on inside this little brain of mine.