Imagine All The People

"For they [those who question the scale of our ambitions] have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage."

This is my favorite part from Obama's inaugural speech. And not just because it celebrates the achievements of our country, but because of the calling it could become for the Church. What if the Church reawakened its Christian political imagination (not my words) and joined in its common purpose?

We have been reading the book, Jesus for President, with others from our church and it has been instrumental in provoking some good conversation, and I might even say, our imaginations. Do we have it all figured out? No way. But it's been a good place to start in rethinking how we live our lives, how the choices (small and large) we make reflect what we believe about the Christian life. Here is an excerpt of the book's description by Zondervan:

Jesus for President is a radical manifesto to awaken the Christian political imagination, reminding us that our ultimate hope lies not in partisan political options but in Jesus and the incarnation of the peculiar politic of the church as a people “set apart” from this world.

Probably the best part about the book is that it provides practical examples and real stories of how this is being lived out today, and reminders of how this has been lived out in the past (ie: Dr. King, Bonhoeffer, Romero). I find it important to acknowledge that while this book has most definitely been written in a certain context (ie: 2008 America), it emphasizes that this "new" movement is really part of a bigger, pre-existing and ongoing story, and is therefore not new at all. Rather, it is a reminder of what has occurred when imagination has been joined to common purpose, and a recall of Christians to that alternate way of life.

[For other reading on this topic, I strongly recommend The Myth of a Christian Nation by Greg Boyd.]

Remembering

In preparation for our small group meeting tonight, I had a chance to reread some of the speeches and writings of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I wondered why I don't do that more often, but I'm glad I did today. These words are no less relevant 50+ years later, even on the heels of an historical inauguration.

True peace is not merely the absence of some negative force - tension, confusion, or war; it is the presence of some positive force - justice, good will and brotherhood.
Dr. King's address before the First Annual Institute on Non-Violence and Social Change, Montgomery, AL, December 1956

Any religion that professes to be concerned about the souls of men and is not concerned about the slums that damn them, the economic conditions that strangle them and the social conditions that cripple them is a spiritually moribund religion awaiting burial.
From an article appearing in the magazine Christian Century, 1960

I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizens Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says, "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can't agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically feels that he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advised the Negro to wait until a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
Letter from a Birmingham Jail, 1963

To Winter

Spellbound
by Emily Brontë










The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing dear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

Oh, Flannery!

Everywhere I go I'm asked if I think the university stifles writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them. There's many a best-seller that could have been prevented by a good teacher.

-Flannery O'Connor

Love it.

Anticipating New England

October
by Robert Frost













O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the wall.

Alternate Routes | The Boring Store

While I have yet to become familiar with the works of Dave Eggers, the most notable of which include A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and McSweeney's publications and humor site, I have had the pleasure of exploring the fascinating creativity behind his non-profit writing and tutoring centers. 826 Chicago (there are also centers in Boston, Seattle, Valencia, NYC, Michigan and LA) provides after-school workshops, drop-in tutoring, in-school tutoring and a variety of programs to encourage and enhance expository and creative writing skills for students ages 6 to 18.

To this end, 826CHI is not your average tutoring center. In order to get to your tutoring session, you would have to enter The Boring Store, a "cleverly disguised" spy shop that warns you on entrance: "Not a secret agent supply store." The boring rows of boxes and drawers belie an abundance of crazy spy gear, such as "Watergate Fingers", "Heated Stakeout Gloves", mustache disguise kits, wigs and Groucho glasses. On each boring box is written a non-description of its contents, such as, "The product within this box is not comprised of a thirty-three foot nylon rope and collapsible hook for grappling." Because, after all, this is NOT a secret agent supply store.



All the proceeds from the store help fund the tutoring programs, while the store itself sparks imagination and creativity among its students. The store is also quite handy when it comes to attracting potential volunteers who help facilitate the writing programs. Who wouldn't want to be part of this endeavor when faced with a banana posing as a cell-phone concealment device?


The Boring Store is located in Wicker Park at 1331 North Milwaukee Avenue--a stop in this series that, while not out of the way for those of us in Chicago, may inspire all of us toward something truly alternate. Indeed, there are ways in which we can, and must, think outside of that boring box.

[The pictures and content of this post are credited to an article by Brad Flora in the Windy Citizen.]

21 November 2008

The Romance of Maple Syrup

Part I: The Romance of Maple Syrup
Manna for the Pioneers
"Captain Charles Sias looked anxiously at the March sun now nearing the horizon. He judged it should be no more than two miles to the new cabin, but after unloading the sled he and his two friends would have to cover the eight miles back to Peacham before dark. The three men hurried as fast as they could on their snowshoes as they made their way through the deep drifts of the trackless forest. Each bent forward slightly as he pulled on the rope which tugged the sled loaded with seven Sias children and provisions. Veering right or left to ease the sled around prickly brush and trees, the men watched constantly for the gashes the captain had made previously on the east side of each tenth tree to mark the way." And thus begins Part I of The Vermont Maple Syrup Cook Book.


Knowing my New England roots, my coworker and friend, Christine, bought this book for me at the Glenview Public Library (they have a great selection of used books for sale). While it's not exactly an antique (copyright 1966 and 1974), it has some old-fashioned and flowery language that aptly transforms a mere cook book into a romance story. The story goes on to reveal how maple syrup rescued the early settlers of Danville, VT in 1784. "History does not record how many times maple syrup saved the early Vermonters from starvation but The Vermont Historical Gazeteer, published in 1867, stated that 'in 1789 sufferings of the time were severe and maple sugar formed the chief article of food. Like the manna of the ancient Hebrews, it was really a providence in the time of hunger and famine. No doubt, those stern old fathers blessed the forest trees that gave them food and life.'"

The book is endearing from its pencil sketch drawings to its last due-date stamp (September 17, 1981) to its heartfelt disclaimer that Vermont has no monopoly on maple trees (which, as a New Hampshirite, I appreciated). The author is clearly enamored with maple syrup. And when reading, it's hard not to feel drawn to the old sugarhouses and maple tree forests littered with taps and pails. I suppose therein lies the romance of maple syrup.

A few recipes:

Rice Pudding
2 cups cooked rice
1 1/3 cups milk
1/2 cup Pure Vermont Maple Syrup
1/8 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
1/3 cup raisins
1 tsp. lemon juice
1 cup bread crumbs

Drain rice well. Beat together milk, Maple Syrup, salt, butter, and eggs. Add vanilla. Mix this with the rice. Combine raisins and lemon juice, and add to the mixture. Grease baking dish and cover bottom with bread crumbs. Put the rice mixture over this and top with bread crumbs. Bake at 325 degrees until it is set. Serve hot or cold.

Rum Punch
2 oz. lemon juice
1 oz. Pure Vermont Maple Syrup
3 oz. rum
dash of grenadine

Shake well with ice. Pour into a tall glass filled with crushed ice. Decorate it with orange or lemon slices.

On Education

Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence.

-Robert Frost


A fine reason to go back to school.

Further Confirmation: Summer Is Not for Working

I love to rise in a summer morn,
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me:
O what sweet company!

But to go to school in a summer morn, --
O it drives all joy away!
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day
In sighing and dismay.

Ah then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour;
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learning’s bower,
Worn through with the dreary shower.

How can the bird that is born for joy
Sit in a cage and sing?
How can a child, when fears annoy,
But droop his tender wing,
And forget his youthful spring!

O father and mother if buds are nipped,
And blossoms blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care’s dismay, --

How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the mellowing year,
When the blasts of winter appear?

William Blake, "The Schoolboy" from Songs of Experience (1794)

I'm pretty sure my buds are being nipped.

We Remember Thee Most Fondly

Tis the birthday of our dearly departed Shakespeare.

"From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April dress'd in all his trim
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing
That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odor and in hue
Could make me any summer's story tell.
Or from their proud lap pluck them while they grew;
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
These were but sweet, but figures of delight;
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play."

Sonnet 98

Cheers, Love

A Drinking Song

Wine comes in at the mouth

And love comes in at the eye;

That's all we shall know for truth

Before we grow old and die.

I lift the glass to my mouth,

I look at you, and I sigh.

-William B. Yeats

We Are the Ship

While I usually leave book recommendations to Sarah, I couldn't pass up passing this along to you. We Are the Ship: The Story of Negro League Baseball is the first book written and illustrated by the award-winning artist, Kadir Nelson (pictured left). It took him almost 8 years to finish due to the 40-plus paintings he completed for the book. Here is a synopsis of the book from Kadir's website:

"The story of Negro League baseball is the story of gifted athletes and determined owners; of racial discrimination and international sportsmanship; of fortunes won and lost; of triumphs and defeats on and off the field. It is a perfect mirror for the social and political history of black America in the first half of the twentieth century. But most of all, the story of the Negro Leagues is about hundreds of unsung heroes who overcame segregation, hatred, terrible conditions, and low pay to do the one thing they loved more than anything else in the world: play ball.

Using an "Everyman" player as his narrator, Kadir Nelson tells the story of Negro League baseball from its beginnings in the 1920s through its decline after Jackie Robinson crossed over to the majors in 1947. The voice is so authentic, you will feel as if you are sitting on dusty bleachers listening intently to the memories of a man who has known the great ballplayers of that time and shared their experiences. But what makes this book so outstanding are the dozens of full-page and double-page oil paintings, breathtaking in their perspectives, rich in emotion, and created with understanding and affection for these lost heroes of our national game."

The title of the book comes from Rube Foster, the founder of the Negro Leagues, who said, "We are the ship, all else the sea."

If nothing else, take a look at Kadir's paintings. They are incredible.

Caved

I'm not sure why I resisted reading Harry Potter for so long. It was probably because of the commitment involved--7 books and who knows how many pages. But over Christmas I watched the fifth movie with Andrew's mom, and then started reading the first book... and the rest is history. I'm now midway through the third and I'm ready to go to Hogwarts with my fellow witches and wizards and learn Transfiguration, Divination, and the Care of Magical Creatures. I often find myself wondering what Harry and Hermione are up to or what the latest Quidditch scores are. I have entered a world and I'm convinced it exists.

Now, some may argue (and I must point out that you would be in the minority since Harry Potter readers comprise no small niche) that there may be other, more productive ways to spend one's time. After all, there are real world issues begging to be researched and contemplated: upcoming elections, tragic world events, a looming recession, etc. And if that weren't enough, we have a plethora of literature, classic and contemporary, that we've always been meaning to read. But Harry Potter is not to be disregarded as something outside the realm of important, relevant reading material. First of all, Rowling has truly created a phenomenon. The first six of the seven books have sold over 400 million copies and have been translated into over 64 languages, and combined with the unprecedented success of the seventh and final installment, the series has made Rowling the highest-earning novelist in history (click here for previous musings on Rowling's achievement). Second of all, it engages the epic battle between good and evil (tell me that's not relevant). Third of all, it employs all the elements of high fantasy fiction, elevating it to the status of classic works such as The Lord of the Rings and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. And for all these reasons, I felt that I owed it to future generations to read these books and be familiar with the world they create. I'm convinced that our copies of Harry Potter will grace the bookshelves of generations to come until the bindings break and the pages rip. I'm not sure what kind of mother or grandmother I would be if I had to look my kids in the eye and said I never read those books when they were first published.

Most of all, I can't think of a better way to spend a cold, wintry Chicago day than to fix a cup of tea and escape into a world of danger, courage, defeat and triumph. It's even possible that we could learn a thing or two from Harry, a boy called by conviction to work for good despite the forces who would wish otherwise.

And if you need further proof of the weight of Rowling's sweeping success, she's scheduled to speak at Harvard's 2008 Commencement.

Reverent Times

Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long;
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad;
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm;
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

-Shakespeare
From Hamlet, Act I Scene I

Addendum

As a follow-up to the previous post (and really because I want to test out this new polling feature), please see the poll to the left and participate as you feel so led. The poll will close at noon next Friday, July 27th. I will be sure to post some resulting conclusions. Thanks!

Phones and Wizards

Within several weeks of each other, two of the most coveted consumer items in the world will have descended on the market: Apple's iPhone and the final installment of Harry Potter. Indeed, people auctioned off themselves to stand in long lines to purchase the iPhone for the highest bidder. I heard of a going rate of $500 on eBay. And at 12:01 am on July 21, 2007, I imagine a similar caliber of lines will form to buy Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. This book has resulted in an unprecedented initial print run of 12 million copies, and retailers are reporting more orders for this book than any other in history. Hats off to Ms. Rowling.

What is incredible to me about these two products is the universality of their appeal. These are not, by any means, exclusively American phenomenons. These products have reached many corners of the earth and are desired by many many people, of many countries, cultures and ages. I cannot imagine what it would be like to create and develop a product that has such a universal human appeal. Cha-ching. Of course, at least in Apple's case, it is not just Apple, Inc. that benefits. Within hours of the iPhone appearing on the shelves, opportunists/wise investors had already disassembled the phone to discover which companies had manufactured its parts. Who doesn't want to rise with the tide?

I find it very interesting that one product has maximized technology to connect with the world in a revolutionary way--anything and everything you could possibly need is literally at your fingertips--while the other product has been extremely successful at allowing people to escape from the world (albeit to enter a completely different one). What does this mean? Nothing, perhaps. But I can't help but think that we are in a limbo that we don't know how to negotiate. To one extent, we are enamored by new technology, always looking for the newest device that will deliver the utmost convenience and accessibility. To the other extent, we desire to escape from it all, to become less available. So what do we do? We bring our cell phones on vacation.

I herald the talent of those behind these products. Technology is good and important. Fictional literature is good and important. Both are necessary. They address different needs and longings of our souls. However, I think we will need to be increasingly judicious in negotiating the line between being wholly connected and accessible and preserving the human need to be unavailable.

Adieu, Ms. Rand (for now)

I am approaching the conclusion of The Fountainhead, much to my disappointment. Perhaps what has caused me to take so long to finish this book is a subconscious desire to keep these characters alive as long as possible. I feel like I know them; I guess I do know them. They have become part of my world, my perspective. They have become a point of reference in deciphering the complexities of humankind and its role in society.

In my last post about this novel, I neglected (intentionally) to discuss Ayn Rand's philosophy of objectivism, which serves as the motivation behind each of her novels. Briefly, objectivism advocates reason and egoism as absolutes. "My philosophy, in essence," she said, "is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute." This is evident in Howard Roark, the hero of The Fountainhead. In a further explanation of her philosophy, Ayn Rand states, "Man—every man—is an end in himself, not the means to the ends of others. He must exist for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself to others nor sacrificing others to himself. The pursuit of his own rational self-interest and of his own happiness is the highest moral purpose of his life."

There is plenty in Ayn Rand's philosophy to which I object, namely, that it is devoid of any room for compassion, benevolence, social responsibility. It is purely individualistic, and we have all probably witnessed the negative fallout from a gross individualism. However, there is a baby here not to be thrown out with the bathwater. In one scene in The Fountainhead, Gail Wynand tells Howard Roark that he thinks Howard ought to be more selfish, to which Howard objects, saying he's the most egotistical person he knows. Gail wonders how that can be true because he believes Howard displays an indescribable kindness, thereby negating any chance that he could be so egotistical. Gail grapples with the opposing concepts of egoism and kindness. Are they opposing? How can they be reconciled? And can they possibly be reconciled within one man?

But Gail is right. Howard is kind. He's an extremely likable character, and for many of the reasons purported by Ayn Rand's philosophy. Instead of denouncing Howard for his egoism, uncompromising standards and unwillingness to cooperate conventionally, you find yourself cheering him on. He represents something noble. I am still reconciling these opposing concepts myself. The closest I have come is recognizing that society can, at times, benefit from individual selfishness. For example, during a monstrous Chicago snowstorm, do you think the snow plowers get up in the middle of the night for my benefit? Do you think they're thinking about my day and my need to be able to drive to work the next morning? No. They plow the roads because it's their job and they are working for their paycheck, to support themselves, for their own sake. But I benefit.

Of course we need people to do things for the sake of other people. Of course it is noble to be unselfish. But I'm just trying to reconcile Ayn Rand with my world and what I know and think to be true. She's on to something that need not be disregarded because it has the appearance of being heartless and offensively individualistic.

In any case, I bid my farewell to The Fountainhead. One of these days I will read Atlas Shrugged. But I think I need a break. What's next you ask? Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville. Alexis may complement Ms. Rand nicely. We shall see.

Maundy Thursday

Holy Thursday

Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
Came children walking two and two, in red and blue and green,
Grey-headed beadles walk'd before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames' waters flow.

Oh what a multitude they seem'd, these flowers of London town!
Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own.
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.

Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of Heaven among.
Beneath them sit the aged man, wise guardians of the poor;
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

-William Blake, Songs of Innocence (1789)

Rand Rave Review

So far, there are few authors I have read that have floored me by their depth and complexity (yes, perhaps I need to read more... point taken). One would be Dostoevsky, another is Ayn Rand. Her writing is the kind that catches you off guard, leaves you evaluating your own ideals and wondering how the heck people can come up with this stuff. I envy the talent. After 450 pages of The Fountainhead (out of only 700), her characters still perplex me and her ideas remain to be reconciled. I will not attempt to summarize the plot nor describe its characters, but here is one example in which I find myself overwhelmed with new thoughts (the context of the conversation is not really necessary):

"Most people go to very great lengths in order to convince themselves of their self-respect."
"Yes."
"And, of course, a quest for self-respect is proof of its lack."
"Yes."
"Do you see the meaning of a quest for self-contempt?"
"That I lack it?"
"And that you'll never achieve it."

WHAT?! I can't say that I spend much time trying to convince myself of my self-respect. But would I know it if I did? And would I have the courage to admit it? Will I ever be so sure of my self-respect that I'd be so daring as to seek self-contempt just to prove I could never achieve it?

Dominique Francon of The Fountainhead is that sure and that daring. And let me tell you, it makes for a riveting story.