and yet

Grief, sorrow, and melancholy explode everywhere around us. I am but a young man; my 30th birthday has yet to drop through the hourglass of life. Yet, like everyone, I have experienced and witnessed hardship. Mine are not unique experiences. We all have them: Friends dying too young in tragic, unexpected ways; cancer; spouses fighting through illness, chronic pain; relationships in peril. Compounding the confusion of life are the emotional and spiritual wounds—those wounds which we hide deep and pretend we don’t care about, even when we are secretly still bitter, but every once in a while…the subtle discontent seeps.

And yet…

And yet, we sometimes find the courage to find beauty in the unexpected. Car crashes are unexpected, but so are the true blessings. I did not expect to be a husband and father before my 26th birthday. But on those days when work seems unbearable and life seems pointless, I return from the office and my daughter greets me at the door with a big smile and a shout: “Daddy!”

And yet, we sometimes find the courage to write what we really think. We sometimes write about what is really on our minds, rather than commenting on pointless internet links or petty politics. We hope to be original, even though we most certainly are not, but what the hell, at least we tried.

And yet, we sometimes remember that life is but misery if we spend it in self absorbed meditation. Instead, we fight through our laziness, meekness, comfortableness, and take the time to invest in the lives of others.

And yet, we sometimes hope the words attributed to a Nazarene peasant are true. Blessed are the peacemakers. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are those who hunder and thirst for righteousness.


ana

movie review

As I write this, I'm sitting on my front porch, sipping a drink, and enjoying the fresh spring air. Isn't wireless internet grand?

I saw the latest Star Wars installment last week. George Lucus set the bar low enough with the last two that I came away satisfied. The only thing I remember about Phantom Menance was that it was terrible, and I fell asleep in the theatre watching Attack of the Clones. With the newest offering, I at least stayed awake.

Don't get me wrong, the movie was still below average. The dialog was worse than a made for tv movie. Yet, it was at least good to finally complete the story. It's like when you've been working on a project in your house for four years. You don't really care if it gets done or not, but then you finally finish and it feels good.

Or like my brother's canoe. He started building a canoe from scratch 5 years ago. It turned out to be more work than he anticipated, and he's still working on it. At this point, he dreads the thought of the stupid canoe, but damn, if it won't feel good when its finally finished.

This latest Star Wars movie is like the canoe: you don't really want to see it, don't really enjoy watching it, but when you get up to leave the theater, you're a little bit sad the saga is over.

peace in silence

Blogging friend Gloria wonders what my subtle disquiet is about.

I find Gloria's (I assume Gloria is a she, if not, let me know) comment intriging, especially since I didn't know that I was disquiet.

Dictionary.com defines disquiet as the "absence of peace." I began thinking about my absence of peace, and a few things popped to mind. First, a quote:

You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars.
You have a right to be here.
And whether it is clear to you or not,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive him to be,
and whatever your labours and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham and drudgery and broken dreams
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

From "Desiderata" by Max Ehrman, 1927.

First off, I conceive God to be not exclusively male, so I'd prefer the poem said "Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive God to be..." I know, the language is a bit awkward, but it's my latest kick in life, so humor me.

I find it odd that we Christians usually refer to God as a male. (Here comes the disquiet, Gloria). I'm a Christian. My holy book is the Bible. I know the Bible refers to God as a male (even in the original languages). However, I'm one of those crazy Christians who attempts to understand the bible with at least a small bit of honest objective criticism. Should it surprise us that when men penned the words which are now collected in our present day "Bible," they choose a masculine pronoun to refer to the Deity?

In some ways, I wonder if our fascination with Mary the Mother of God is in some way a silent protest about the lack of a female presence in heaven. Aren't Mothers in some way always greater than their sons?

Think about it: we've got God the Father(a man), Jesus (a man), and the Spirit (probably another man). What about God the Mother, God the Daughter, and God the Holy Feeling? Everyone knows that if the world were left to men, we'd all be dead in a quick hurry. Wars happen because men aren't so good at talking. If the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were left to their own devices, I'm betting they'd get into a big fight and all heaven would break loose. That's where Mary comes in. Thank God she ascended to heaven to sort things out. She's a woman, which means she's smarter than all of them, but lets them think otherwise. And by God, she'll keep the other three from engaging in frivilous violence.

My wife argues that God must be a man. How else does one explain the enormous propensity for violence in the Hebrew Bible? If God were a woman, the people of Israel wouldn't have ever killed anyone. They would have talked it out. This also happens to be her argument for why America went to war in Iraq. Two prideful men (our leader and theirs) were too stubburn and just sit down a work it out. Somehow, I disagree with her first point (although I find it quite humorous), but agree with the second.

As long as I'm on America's war mongering in Iraq, I wonder what Mr. Bush would say about these well worn verses of scripture: "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth....Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God" (Matthew 5.5, 9). Maybe I just have the wrong manuscript. Surely what the bible really means is "blessed are those with the biggest army and the most wealth, for they will control the oil." (Opps...there's the subtle disquiet again)

I'm disquiet because I feel my religion is often used to manipulate. I'm disquiet because I think people take religion too seriously.

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: "Religion is to do right. It is to love, it is to serve, it is to think, it is to be humble." I espicially like "it is to think." I've met too many people who think critically about everything in their life. Everything, that is, except their faith. And that bugs me. But religion is also to be humble. For me, this means acknowledging the possiblity that I'm wrong. Or at least I should be willing to listen to others, especially those who think differently. Which reminds of another bit from "Desiderata:"

Go placidly amid the noise and haste
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly and listen to others,
even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

bush

this made me laugh. (Click on "Black Bush")

the things I miss

o mercy, what I wouldn't give
to have the things that mean the most
not to mean the things i miss

I was young once. To many, I'm still young - i'm but 27 years old. But as I write '27', i feel older than hell. Remember when you could get drunk 6 days a week and still feel great? I can't even get drunk any more. Every time I try, I have two drinks and decide I'd rather go to sleep.

I'm married, I have a beautiful child. I work too many hours. I'm everything I once wished I wouldn't be-just another average guy.

But I'm happy. How could I not be? I have a beautiful daughter. We have another little one on the way.

And you should see my wife. I married up. Way up. I like taking my wife places because it makes me look better. People meet me and think "well, whatever. At least he doesn't smell." Then they meet my wife and decide they like hanging out with me. No shit.

And my job ain't half bad. The people are nice and the pay is good.
Disclaimer: that's the most I'll likely ever say about my place of employment. People get fired for what they write in blogs, you know.

Isn't it strange how idealistic we are in our youth? I used to think I could change the world, could make the world a better place. But now, I just want to make sure my daughter thinks the world is beautiful.

Yesterday, I posted a picture of Ana. A wise reader commented: "you will forever be a rich man." Indeed, my friend.

ana

it's the little things in life that make me happy

jack attack! jack attack!

I stopped by the liquor store on the way home, with the intent to buy a fifth of Makers. Maker's marks the spot, you know.

And then the serpent slithered into the store. Uncle Jack wanted to know where I'd been. He said he wished we could talk like we used to. I told him he had sold his soul to satan. He had altered his recipe for the sake of profit. Man can not serve both God and mammon.

Jack was on sale. I live in Minnesota. We're crazy about deals. We live our lives to get a "heckova" deal. A good deal is cool, but if you get a "heckova" deal, you're livin'. So I decided to live a little bit. I gave up on my boycott of Jack (I still think they're bastards, btw), and bought a fifth of Jack. And boy, did I get one heckova a deal on it.

I know, I'm a sell out. The serpent is crafty, so beware.

It's been somewhere in the realm of six months since uncle jack and I last talked. He still feels like an old friend.

swords into plowshares

Like most people, I enjoy it when smart people agree with my viewpoints. In a previous post, I express my distaste for our president's actions after 9/11. Mr. Bush called for national vengeance. I believe a true leader would have called for repentance.

I suspect that hidden within our president's call to vengeance is the conviction that God is on our side. We're America, dammit. We're the land of the free. We're one nation UNDER GOD. Surely God is on our side.

The people of Crossings, a Christian organization started in by two seminary professors, remind us that just because we're Americans doesn't mean God is required to be with us.

But if God does bless America, then He can do the opposite. And the story of the OT, the Revelation to John, the hope of the prophets and the promise of the psalms is indeed that the Lord controls the fate of nations, bringing low and raising up, making both weal and woe. So, even though the attack is not proof of God's disfavor against the USA, we would be guilty of the broadest obtuseness and biblical ignorance if we do not at least ask ourselves whether God may have specific cause to be against us. Can you think of any? Given the centers of attack, we could begin looking at our role in world trade and in military affairs. Again, to ask the question is not to have a prejudice in favor of a positive answer. But if we suspect that the answer may be positive, then it would be first of all up to those who believe that God wants to turn His judgment into mercy to begin the repenting, inviting others to join in.

I am one of the crazy people who believes in the positive answer--we, as a nation, have plenty of sins worthy of repentance. And as one who believes with all his heart that God does indeed want to turn God's judgment into mercy, I intend to begin the repenting, and I invite all whom are willing to join in.

For the entire essay quoted above, click here.
For Crossings' website, click here.

blessings,
the preacher

my whisk(e)ybiography

This is not my autobiography. It's my whisk(e)ybiography, my journey which will one day lead to whisky nirvana. The 'e' in whisk(e)y is in parens because like any other religious discussion, nobody can agree. The Scots spell 'whisky,' the Americans 'whiskey'. Makers Mark is an exception, they use the Scottish spelling.

While attending college, I lived with ShoeBlog. Before honouring me with his presence as a roomie, he lived in Scotland for a while, where he acquired a taste for fine scotch whisky. After hearing him rave and rant about the mystical qualities of scotch, I gave in and coughed up 50 bucks, and he went and bought a bottle for us to share. Of course, he suggested I might need a guide for my virgin scotch experience. He graciously volunteered. After spending considerable money and time at the liquor store, he brought back a bottle of Dalwhinnie. I took a sip, and thanks to my guide, I was home.

Now, first things first. Shoe - you suckered me. I figure you ran your mouth about scotch every chance you could because you figured I'd eventually fork out the money to buy a bottle. Well done, my friend.

Anyway, for a year or two I drank nothing but scotch. Then I joined the real world and realized most people can't consistently spend 50 dollars on a bottle of nerve-soother. I had a nasty habit which was costing me too much money. It seemed there were two options: 1) quit drinking. 2) Find something cheaper. Number one seemed more like a really bad idea than an option, so I set out to find something cheaper. My girlfriend (now wife) suggested I try Jack Daniels. She said her father and brothers all drank it. So I gave it a shot.

If fine scotch is beef carpaccio with capers, manchego cheese and radish, good whiskey is ribeye steak. Good Scotch is intricate, delicate, complicated, nuanced. Good whiskey is simple and straight forward, without any frills. I like to be wowed by elegant presentation and preparation at fine restaurants, with the skill of something delicate like carpaccio. But damn, if a home cooked ribeye right off the grill doesn't hit the spot, too.

I drank jack for sevaral years, and not much else, except on special occasions, when I'd drag out a fine bottle of single malt, preferably Lagavulin.



Then something happened which would have made Uncle Jack furious. The folks at Jack Daniels decided to lower the proof of their signature whiskey.

Now, 3% less alcohol isn't going to make or break my night, but the whole thing bothers me. Mind you, I'm a bit of a purist. I think the DH in baseball is a terrible idea. So I'm a bit pissed Jack lowered their proof. I'm suspicious their press release, "We researched it and decided the majority of people wanted a less potent drink" is a big line of bull. What's really going on is that they remembered water doesn't cost anything.

In light of Jackgate '04, I decided to branch out and try some others. I've landed on Makers Mark, a traditional Kentucky bourbon. Curious about the difference between Tennessee Whiskey and Bourbon? Check out this page.

So that's my whisk(e)ybiography, at least to date. Happy drinking everyone.

early retirement

While on vacation, I picked up the latest GQ, a magazine I've never read before. I was entertained by most of the articles in the magazine, so I'm thinking about getting a subscription.

A piece in this month's edition is titled "The (very) Early Bird." It's written by a 28 year old single man who got laid off, and then decided to move into a retirement community to see what retirement holds. "I started thinking. What's going to happen if I finally get to retirement and it sucks?"

Since I can't find the article online, I'll reprint in full a paragraph I found most enlightening:

I've found that once retirees retire, it's not uncommon for them to want to unretire. They've made it past the initial stages of adjustment, and now they're experiencing the onset of restlessness, not to mention residual guilt because they do nothing productive all day long. Doris, who works as a clerk in the Century Village clubhouse, as unretired three times already. "Every time I retire, I realize I'm not happy doing nothing." she says. "So I get a job."

So if retired people aren't happy being retired, why don't we just allow people aged 22-30 "retire." Then once you turn 30, you start working until you die. Fellow bloghead Jason Coleman first got me started about this idea. The more I think about it, I think he's on to something.

During water cooler conversation at work, some of us dream about starting a new political party, titled "the common sense party." (No decision yet on the mascot)

Here's a sampling of the party platforms: Flat tax. Investement in alternative energy. Balanced budget. No religion in government.

More on the common sense party later. For the time being, however, I'm adding mandatory retirement for all people aged 22-30 to the list. Maybe I'll make a run for office in '08.

vacation

My wife, my daughter, and I returned home today from a 4 night, 5 day vacation. It was much needed. I have been working 70+ hour weeks, and was turning into a monster. I was grumpy, didn't see my daughter but for a couple minutes each morning, and the little sleep I did get was interrupted by dreams about work. Isn't that a bitch? I'd wake up in the middle of the night and realize I had been dreaming about work.

We vacationed in Wisconsin Dells. For those of you not familiar, everybody has been to a place like Wisconsin Dells. It's one of those towns that wouldn't exist if people didn't have kids and need a place to get away for a few days on the cheap. Southern France it's not. But it has plenty to keep children busy. It's the epitome of what father would describe as a "tourist trap."

At this point in my life, I'm not picky about vacation destinations. I've been to Europe, and I'd love to go back. My wife and I have vacationed in Puerto Rico, Mexico, Colorado, Maine, San Diego, and Boston. We'd love to travel all over the world, see lots of exotic things, golf in Scotland, sample wine in France, ride camels in Egypt. But for now, with an 18 month old daughter and a tight budget, we're easy to please. We want a place away from home, so the normal distractions of life don't interfere. We want easy entertaining for our daughter. And if there are cheap drinks/golf/hotels/food/shopping, all the better.

all you can't leave behind

Giddie up

Anyone know what this is a picture of? More to come...

duke sucks

It seems I have some UNC fans reading my blog. Duke sucks.

Many congrats to the national champions of college basketball. I'm a little disappointed in the fans, however. When my school won the college hockey championship, we rioted and burned cars. Wussies.

(Make sure to take a look at the link - it's even got pictures to prove how stupid, er...i mean totally cool, we are.

what i'm drinking

Tonight feels like a knob creek night. I enjoy the knob creek. It reminds me of the old stand-by, makersmark, but with a smoother, sweeter finish.

Some of my other blogging buddies will sometimes tell us what they are listening to, i.e. which mp3 is currently receiving heavy air time in their ipod.
Instead of telling you what I'm listening to, I'll tell you what I'm drinking, i.e. which amber liquid is receiving heavy air time in my favorite tumbler.

blogging in iraq

The Star Tribune has a reporter in Iraq who is blogging about his experiences.