LENTEN QUIET MORNING

The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens— wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught. The Lord God has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I did not turn backward. I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting. The Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame.
 —ISAIAH 50:4-7

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A response to fill the silence:

What does it mean to look at ourselves honestly? What will we see there? What will we discover?

In the silence of prayer, I discover the sounds of a starling building its nest in the eaves of the church sanctuary, of a neighbor's leaf blower, or the roofers tearing off shingles on a nearby structure, of the snap-crackle-pop! of my ankle as I walk out of the room to cough and to blow my nose so as not to disturb the others who have gathered.

There is life outside these walls and it is noisy. It is filled with roosters crying out and car engines revving as they pass by. Babies bawling. Dogs barking. The scratching of my pencil's lead against the pulpy fiber of a yellow pad. All glorious and all utterly mundane!

And yet I have avoided my own mortality, my own failings, my own sinfulness because it is easier to notice "the other" rather than confront myself. The stark reality of my creatureliness. My nothingness to come.

God, grant me the gift of a metaphorical surgeon's scalpel, and a healthy dose of courage, that I might truly examine who I am, all the while remembering whose I am.

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After the readings, after the prayers, after the silence, I head home to rest. The interior of my head fills at least twice the size of the volume my skull should contain. Massive head cold layered over allergies, followed by a set of readings, leaves my head pounding, my voice raspy and fleeting, yet I would do it again.

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The set list. Readings from (Deutero-)Isaiah and contemporary responses.

Servant Song #1

• Isaiah 42:1-4.
• "Comes Now My Servant, Gentle and Faithful." Excerpts, pages 115 and 116, from Isaiah: Spirit of Courage, Gift of Tears by Daniel Berrigan.

Servant Song #2

•  Isaiah 49:1-6.
• "A Servant-Leader." Excerpts from "Martin Luther King Weekend Sermon, January 17, 2017" by Shannon Vance-Campo.

Servant Song #3

•  Isaiah 50:4-7.
• "Living Lent" by Barbara Cawthorne Crafton, as found in Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter.

Servant Song #4

• Isaiah 52:13—53:12.
• "Break." Excerpts, pages 209-210, 211, from Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology by Eugene H. Peterson.

Servant Song #5

• Isaiah 61:1-3.
• "Witnesses." Excerpt, page 175, from Death on a Friday Afternoon: Meditations on the Last Words of Jesus from the Cross by Richard John Neuhaus.

JOJO RABBIT

The Wife, The Child, and TWT headed off to The Grand Cinema in Tacoma to watch Jojo Rabbit on the big screen. Directed by Taika Waititi, it's a haunting mix of humor, sadness, and hopefulness.

The film is a coming-of-age film that focuses on Jojo Betzler, a ten-year-old boy who is a bit awkward and is picked on. He is also a fanatical member of the Hitler Youth whose imaginary friend is Adolf Hitler.

Jojo's world is "small" and populated with a cast of well-drawn characters.

The film explores the nature of lies—all of them—including stereotypes, misunderstandings, ideologies, and stories. How do we use falsehood and fiction to control and manipulate others?

The humor of the film is often subtle and wry, and when it isn't then it pushes into places that verge on unpleasantness or discomfort. But it always seems to pull us back just in time and restore balance.

I highly recommend the film. It's one of those films that is somewhat difficult to explain without spoiling it. In other words, you need to go see it!

BRIGHTBERRY

Brightberry Raspberry Lime Ale, a Gose, by Ninkasi Brewing Company.

12 ounce can served in Samuel Adams glass.

4.0% abv.

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The pour = Pinkish-orange body with a finger-thick bright white head. Bubbly.

The nose = Pickled brine with fruit notes.

The tongue = Tart. Brine. Raspberry. Then a brief blast of sourness. Citrus and brine finish. Flower (rose?) petals. As it warms a bit of berry sweetness creeps in.

Very good. **** (out of 5).

SONG for the UNRAVELING of the WORLD

Song for the Unraveling of the World by Brian Evenson is a wild ride of short horror stories. I had to have it after reading the opening line of the two-page-long opening story: "No matter which way we turned the girl, she didn't have a face."

Evenson creates scenarios of anxiety, paranoia, and existential dread like few other authors, and this 2019 collection easily sees him at the top of his game. Additionally, "Lord of the Vats" is the best contemporary Lovecraftian short story I've ever read, as it weaves cosmic horror into an Alien-like setting, all the while doing such in an understated yet effective manner. Highly recommended.

WARPAINT MELVILLE

"Warpaint Melville," India ink on transparency film over papercut collage, 2019, by Troy's Work Table.

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Plus, an excerpt from "Warpaint Melville (American Sentences)":

"White stars upon a black field— / the banner yet waves / in the warpaint night." 

(I wrote new poems influenced by the original poem.)

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Getting ready for the original "Warpaint Melville" poem to be published as part of CREATIVE COLLOQUY VOLUME SIX on Monday 2/17. It will be paired with an illustration by a local artist. I haven't seen it yet, so I'm excited to see what they discovered in my poetry.

WOMAN with SPIRITS

I belong to a two-person, long-distance, by-telephone book club with my good friend. We "meet" on Friday mornings to discuss books and their religious import and theological relevance. Together we choose books that both of us are open to reading and set up a schedule so that we can give adequate attention to our selections and time to properly digest their contents.

Our two most recent reads were Searching for Sunday: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church by Rachel Held Evans and Dear Church: A Love Letter from a Black Preacher to the Whitest Denomination in the U.S. by Lenny Duncan. Our new read was a bit of a departure, being less direct in its subject material and mostly unknown. We just started The Long Weeping: Portrait Essays by Jessie van Eerden.

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In our first meeting we discussed the brief "Prologue," (a portrait essay in its own right, and originally published in Appalachian Heritage as "The Long Weeping"), and the first proper essay, "Woman with Spirits | Eliza." In addition to the rich, dense, chewy, and impressionistic language of the "Woman with Spirits," the essay called forth many echoes for me—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Susanna (all women with spirits healed by Jesus, and subsequently become his followers/disciples) in Luke 8:2-3, who will later appear as witnesses to the crucifixion, burial, and resurrection of Jesus; the short stories of Flannery O'Connor; Poor People by William T. Vollmann; The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck; and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. For me, these echoes reinforce the three (or perhaps four) themes and stories that van Eerden meticulously weaves together into a seamless narrative that has its own bright light and life.

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Both my reading partner and I ended up reading the essay more than once. This is because there is so much invested in each word, each phrase, each sentence, each paragraph that a second reading allowed me to "step back" and see the "entire painting" that van Eerden had placed upon the page. The first reading, I believe I was spending my time looking at individual "brushstrokes" and mistook the forest for the trees. A second reading allowed me a more comprehensive understanding of what she was doing in the essay, to see all of the beautiful passages and threads as a magnificent whole.

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I'm actually not quite sure how to describe what I read to someone who hasn't read it. It was helpful to be in conversation with someone else who read the essay because we could share our confusion and our wonder at what we had ingested.

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There are eleven more essays and eleven more Fridays of discussion, as we read one essay per week in order to give each piece proper and necessary attention. I'm looking forward to each and every week of reading and each and every Friday of conversation.

SALT and LIGHT

"Cross of Salt and Light," mixed media collage, 2019, by Troy's Work Table.

Layers = India ink on YUPO Translucent watercolor paper + pen and ink on bond paper + paper-cut bond paper.

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This piece of art is based upon Matthew 5:13-20, specifically verses 13 through 16.

"You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot. “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven."

But I know that being salt and being light is not an easy call. In some sense it is a "cross to bear" (Matthew 16:24).

With all of that in mind, I wanted something simple and geometric. The molecular structure of sodium chloride (NaCl) peeks through a translucent cross that emanates light. The five wounds of Jesus when he is upon the cross "bleed" into the orange cross "figure" within the yellow cross: the three nail marks of both hands and feet, the crown of thorns upon his bloody head, and the spear wound in the side of his torso.

And while I am fond of symmetry, which is present, it is in a slightly askew, slanted way. The axis of symmetry of the salt structure is turned 45 degrees when compared to the axis of symmetry of the cross. For me, it's imperfect perfection, and that's enough!