Spring Semester

I am hating schools with and almost pure hatred right now. Almost any other works is more appealing than finishing up this last paper of the semester.

For a second I will pretend that I have actually enjoyed Spring. Ahhh Spring. There is nothing quite like the filigree of buds against the true blue sky.. and yes, with ee cummings I enjoy the all that is true and infinite and yes.... I am not feeling reborn though. Nope. No Osiris here.. No Golden bough of spring. I am still in the garlic rut of mud of the nearly spring. So, I am worrying about school work again. I need to stop!

Easter is all over. I have had random thoughts of taking in Eastern Orthodox Easter next week as everything just seemed to have gone by too fast. We attended church up in Buckley and instead of a strident version of "Up From the Grave He Arose" we sang some bland chorus that I've never sung before and will never sing again. Whatever side your are on in the politics of praise songs... They can neither carry Easter Joy nor Good Friday pathos. The only way I can recover from "Were You There?" is to confidently sing Christ, the Lord is Risen Today! This year I had the sorrow with out the release. I've tried to sing "Christ, The Lord is Risen Today" by myself but the Alelluias always end up sounding like cat torture.

An unplanned, unexpected life...

I suppose the title brings unexpected pregnancy to mind. I have been thinking to day of the iron cage of planned life. I seems that if we as modern American could say in a word what makes for a good life it would be that it is planned. It is in are planning in minutiae, perhaps more than the culture of death, that makes the Unexpected pregnancy such a big deal. Perhaps, all this planning is the origin of the culture of death?

Perhaps, this only my way of justifying what is anything but a planned exsistence: The dishes all over the kitchen, the dried boogers on Simeon's nose, and the lapse in thoughtful replies to old friends conform to no aesthetic. If when the day is done we are not any steps closer to financial ruin, we can still get to our beds at night, and our children have been kept sound--we count it a successful day, crawl into bed and comment that "Tomorrow we need to wash these sheets."

But, I do think that the whole project of creating shalom in our homes, and in our sub-conscious does tend to mitigate against (at least sometimes) being agents of shalom in our worlds, and churches, and amongst our friends, and old tired bothersome family members [the one's who no longer look cute with strawberry Jelly smeared on their faces.]

All that said. I'd really like to get organized. I'd really like to enact a plan. And I am hoping the next month things will look more sane and our house could reflect a hospitable welcome. But, I still suspect that upon coming into our homes you might first be welcomed by two toddlers with noses still red from a recent bogger scrubbing (one of whom could tell you if you asked her about the mess that is hiding up in Mama and Dada's room.

a friday night discussion

Doug and I have decided to post together. Dear Friends, it has come to my attention that (no, I don't like that) ... how bout. Lets just go watch our friday night movie.

No, I think that we should post something together so that we can be exemplars of how a good marriage should work! (J)

Why is watching movies on a Friday night a bad thing?

I am &*(&*(& sick of being the only one who posts to this &*(&*(& blog!

But, I just posted earlier today! Give credit where credit is due.

Well, you SHOULD post as it is more or less the case that Robert and Lauren are the only ones who read this thing anyways. I know they like me and all. But, really they are looking for news about YOU.

John Knoester.

That reminds me is his middle name Clarence or Carl? I have been under the misconception for well-nigh 6 years that it is Clarence and then I get his Wedding invite today and it says Carl. What do you make of that???

John would rather share a middle name with the first name of a famous theologian than with the angel from ITs A WONDERFUL lIFE?

Well, does it really matter they are both Universalists?

Angela and Ben and Jacob (but not Charlie) are in Montreal.

What does that have to do with John Carl?

I don't know.

You know what Doug. I think we should go watch that movie. So much for showing how well we work together as a married couple.

Yes, forget about all that exemplar crap.

Update on my work

I recently attended a conference for “Truthtellers and Peacemakers” put on by the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada’s National Roundtable on Poverty and Homelessness. Many there were impressed by Street Level’s clarion call for evangelicals who walk alongside poor folks “to add to material action a clear, creative, and challenging public voice,” a public voice insisting “that homelessness will be a priority” for Canadian “policy makers concerned with justice and mercy.” Almost everyone there signed their names to the Roundtable’s Ottawa Manifesto (http://www.streetlevel.ca/manifesto/) which was published in last Monday’s Ottawa Citizen. As an American leery of nationalism, I was nevertheless blessed simply to be present with three hundred and fifty delegates, 75% of whom occupy their time as front line workers with those who are street involved. Steve Bell sang. Ten year old Hannah Talyor of the Ladybug Foundation delighted the crowd by speaking in one of the plenary sessions, and Sister Sue Mosteller and Bill van Buren of L’Arche Daybreak daily focused our attention on a spirituality of brokenness through stories, joke telling, and reflections upon art and Scripture. In two of our other plenary sessions, Sanctuary’s Greg Paul called our attention to the potency we have been gifted with in the stories of those we encounter, while Rick Tobias of Yonge Street Mission spoke prophetically of the absolute necessity for those who would fight poverty to stand against violence, especially violence against women and children. My imagination was fired by a workshop on mobilizing volunteers and Ray Aldred’s session on First Nations reiterated just how important an intergenerational atmosphere is both for those who find themselves socially isolated and for the wider church. Of the plethora of poignant stories shared at the conference, perhaps most poignant for me was the story of Bill van Buren. Bill, who has an intellectual disability and a high-pitched, contagious laugh, was the first core member of L’Arche and traveled and spoke for years with Henri Nouwen. Over a long period of time, Nouwen and others urged Bill to make a life book, a collection of letters, pictures, and other scraps from his life. After constant refusal, Bill finally agreed with the caveat that nothing from his first sixteen years of life be included. You see, before Bill arrived at L’Arche, he was homeless. Decades later, Bill is one of the fortunate ones. Rather than revolving his way through asylums, group homes, boarding rooms, and further stints on the street like so many others similarly situated, Bill has found supportive housing in the context of a permanent Christian community for the entirety of his adult life. An inspiration for Lazarus Rising indeed.

Update

This is a busy month for us Protestant Slackers. Jodie's papers are all due: one on typology and Roger Williams, another on eugenics and a 20th century missiologist, and the last one on a 19th century literary magazine published by asylum patients. Doug just returned from a conference on street ministry. Ask him about it. Angela and baby Jacob are off to Vancouver for a meeting with the board of A' Roche. Ben is off to Montreal to conduct some experiments, and Johanna, Jacob, and Simeon daily learn more than any of us could handle at our current stage of development. :) We enjoyed Heather's visit. We are still praying daily for her little baby. Heather is beautiful and healthy looking and full of love and spunk and courage. I just puttered out on the lenten reflection. I wish I would have kept going.