Proverbs 31 1-8

1 The sayings of King Lemuel—an oracle [a] his mother taught him:

2 "O my son, O son of my womb, O son of my vows,

3 do not spend your strength on women, your vigor on those who ruin kings.

4 "It is not for kings, O Lemuel— not for kings to drink wine, not for rulers to crave beer,

5 lest they drink and forget what the law decrees, and deprive all the oppressed of their rights.

6 Give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish;

7 let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more.

8 "Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.

Typically when Proverbs 31 is mentioned there is the later part about a virtuous woman. I'll look at that later, but there is my favorite part before that, which I have highlighted.... Wooo Hooo!
Reading this in a meritocracy and democracy is hard. For one, no kings. Presidents, prime ministers, and random local politicians who make their jurisdictions like little fiefdoms yes. So, this is saying our leaders should be teetotalers? Sober, maybe, in the idea that the leaders shouldn't be oppressive. However, the drink of spirits isn't a problem it is the intoxicating drink of power that is oppressive.
Now for the completely non-Baptist part, "Give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish," or "Give strong drink to the one who is perishing,
and wine to those in bitter distress." Now I do like and disagree with this. Like for the pro-drinking part, disagree because the ones in anguish need to rise up and fight. In the meritocracy the poor, the anguished need to be sober as well in order to move from their state of poverty. But the perishing.... yeah, get them the good bottle of booze.
Lastly, though this gets close to something I'd like to avoid writing about. Rights and oppression are seen in terms of poverty and destitution. I'm going to leave it at that.

...and keep us ever mindful of the needs of others

I just said the following before chowing down on my lunch, which is sage chicken and brown rice. "Lord, please bless these gift for our use, and us to thy service and keep us ever mindful of the needs of others." It has just occurred to me that the last part just doesn't apply to the starving poor of the world. Because it is said prior to eating, those are the first people coming to mind.
Though the poor and hungry get first dibs, but there are others out there who are in need. Emotional need. The poor in spirit. Those in need of forgiveness. Those who need love. Those who need Jesus, but for some reason or another fail to see him in their lives.
Also if you don't bump up against the poor daily, who are the others? Our co-workers and neighbors are in need of charity. My definition of charity is loving the difficult to love. Some people need our patience. Particularly when you want to slap 'em. Some people need forgiveness, particularly when they are crabby and say mean things.

Body & Spirit

I pondered this idea with MH, hereafter to be referred to as "The Help" mainly because I've called him my driver and recently he's done some janitorial work around the house. I was thinking that the mind, spirit, soul whatever is too closely linked with the body and it's chemistry to be separate. You have a lobotomy, you change. You're not the same person.
I go back to sci-fi and how it leaves out the things that make us "US" that are related to hormones, brain chemistry, medication (or lack thereof), and low level pain from parts of the body that make us grumpy. In Freaky Friday, mom gets transferred into daughter. But what of the adolescent brain development and raging hormones? Or when the angry woman gets transferred into Capt. James T. Kirk and he gets all effeminate, why? Did a shot of estrogen come along for the ride? Then there is the brain software transferred into computers, robots, etc, which lack the signals (most of the time) to tell us that our big toe itches, french toast would hit the spot, it's that time of the month, we're tired, that music is loud, So-N-So is coming and she got on my last nerve, etc. In that way wouldn't the electrical transfer be something akin to transferring a Mac program to at PC or a Palm pilot?
Why does any of this matter? Well it does relate to the "resurrection of the dead" part in belief. We need this body to raise up, because so much of who we are, what temptations we struggle with (crosses to bear), is tied up in the physical form.

Just be yourself

BL and I were noting this thing talking over glasses of prosecco about high school vs college. "Just be yourself." You have heard it a million times before and when you were younger you didn't believe it. But older, I'm so thankful that I do believe it and am begining to practice that.
Oh the time wasted trying to be someone else! Trying to impress people with a false front. And then there is the mental anguish of it all. Not that being yourself doen't have it's own problems when 'you' clash with someone else. But at least you're fighting and defending and sometimes sacrificing what is true.
I look forward to that day when in my older age when I don't give a rip what others think of me. Of course I'll have to reign myself in as there is the person I strive to be, for the sake of my own happiness and rightness with G-d, and the misirable wretch that I am. But that struggling person is the person I am.

It's a bug AND a feature

Chatting with the Mikey about some of my characteristics, one being stubborn independence. I proclaimed it was a bug and a feature. Depending on the situation it can be stupid or admirable. Not asking for help/blowing off offers of help, insisting on carrying my own luggage up the stairs, ignoring other's advice and doing my own thing, etc.
Yes, wonderful things happen when help is offered and received, however, I'm impatient and if I want something done (not exactly done right), I'll do it myself.

A special place in Hell

People want Hell.
Not for themselves, or for really nice people who don't believe in a triune G-d. No. Hell is for the people they hate. People who do bad things. Corrupt officials, the guy who cuts you off and gets away with it, jackasses. Hell. People want Hell for those people. If there is a god, his grace would be denied to those wrong doers, or he'd judge them to Hell, or somehow they'd get there without a G-d.
I'm willing to entertain the idea, I heard from my liberal priest (back when going to St. Georges) supposed that G-d's grace is extended to all, and he can save all, and even the worst of us can be welcomed into Heaven by G-d's grace. However, I don't believe there is no one in Hell. I do believe in the human ability to be stubborn into eternity and would deny that he is Lord or reject his love and doom themselves to Hell. Or a Hell.
I have various views of Heaven and Hell. If Heaven is an eternal Mass, or worshipfest of G-d, that would be Hell to someone. The idea of hanging out with Jesus and singing his praises sounds alright to me (I worry about bad worship music, yes, even in Heaven, Praise and Worship Pop music could sneak in).

Everybody Dies

That will be my new children's book that will take off in Japan, in the tradition of great children's literature of Everybody Poops.
The book will have lots of illustration of people with XXs for eyes, and the text will go like this:
Shakespeare during his lifetime wrote several wonderful plays and sonnets, he died.
Abraham Lincoln was President of the United States and freed the slaves, he went to the theater and died.
Susan B. Anthony fought for women's rights and is on a dollar coin, she's dead.
Gandhi achieved independence for India with non-violence, and he died.
Albert Einstein was a brilliant scientist who gave us the Theory of Relativity and he died.
Mother Teresa was a nun who fed and cared for the poor, she died.
Mr. Thompson down the street was a kind man who liked puppies, he's dead too.
Which just goes to prove, everybody dies.

A tale of two bags

This morning on the sidewalk
Two plastic bags huddled together
The little black bag tried comforting the big white bag
But it was not to be comforted.
Distressed, the black bag floated away
leaving the white bag, with it's crumpled smiley face
in a grimace.

Forgiveness and History

History is dangerous. For lying in the past are unresolved grudges, slights, injustices, actions judged by today's standards as wrong and errors. These are not safely tucked away in the past, that once a day has passed all the bad and evil is locked in time and unable to harm the present. Nope. It gets resurrected like a zombie, and it's coming to get you.
I was thinking of the grudges and the idea that group A 'owes' group B something because the first group stole, hoodwinked, or wronged the second. And an apology or replacement in kind just wont cut it because went you add interest, subtract previous attempts at getting even, and factor in lost opportunities it never settles it. The only thing that settles the debt is forgiveness. Well that or wiping out one group.

Why I need to clean the bathroom

Feminism is useless against the dust bunnies under my clawfoot tub.
Despite having two graduate degrees, a good job that uses those degrees and not being tied to a man, I have to lower myself to my knees to engage in the drudgery of cleaning the damned bathroom.... because no one else will.
I could pay a woman, and it is usually a woman, maybe two from the maid service, to do all the cleaning. However, maid service is about $80-$125 a week. According to friends, almost always couples, maids like to come once a week, if forced to be bi-monthly, they will charge you more. Also according to friends, they don't always clean everything. So if I want it done right and done cheap/free, I have to clean it.
Somewhere a mother is wrongly discouraging her daughter any of the home arts. This is a mistake. She should be teaching her children, regardless of gender, how to clean the oven, and correctly sorting the laundry. Because regardless how educated you become, your place needs cleaning and your food needs cooking, and the school doesn't issue domestic staff with those degrees.
When I was younger I didn't give much thought to the housecleaning. I had roommates, we shared the duties and did half assed jobs at cleaning whatever room we were assigned to. As I get older, and as most of my friends have either gotten a maid, assigned one spouse/partner to housekeeping, or decided that cleaning is overrated/ unnecessary/ pointless, I care about the dust bunnies. I see the dust bunnies messing up my nice floors and the renovation work.
Damned bunnies.

The economy is like a....

Supermodel who is coming down from a 10 year high on heroin, who had been overpaid and living in a Manhattan penthouse, who has just been dumped on a deserted street in Detroit with no money, no drugs and whose cell phone is about to die and whose last call is from her agency firing her for one too many diva moments, and for being over the hill.
The party is over and we're going through some nasty withdrawal symptoms.

The Good Life

On the crunchy end of things, from crunchy conservative book to crunchy orthodox Jew blogs, both have got me thinking of the "Good Life", that is eco-friendly, non-materialist, and genuinely rich. And so an image, a flicker of a scene pops in. I did write a short story, but deleted it as it suffered from the thing that all my short stories suffer, loaded details.

The image is Poppa is king of his castle, and Momma is the queen, and there are children squealing in delight in Poppa's arms. Friends drop by to visit and the hostess does her best to make the guests feel welcomed. The food is locally grown, either backyard local, down the street at the community garden local, suburban farm local and a few states over local. There are non-local items, like wine, and items that in their nature store well.
In this image of the good life relationships matter more than things. The long term, deep relationships are cultivated and the institutions or functions that support these relationships, be they friendships, familial ties, neighbors, co-workers, lovers or what -have you, are valued.
Quality is valued over quantity.
Charity to all is encourgaed.
Rreading dead wood pulp is preferred over bits & bytes.
And napping is not just for pre-preschoolers.
Speaking of napping.....

Who is raising your child?

When you have the State help raise your child, don't be surprised when it asks for custody.

Thoughts running through the head

Songs
Parodies of songs
Math (simple)
Re imagining what I see
Debating myself
Debating what I'm listening to
Punishing myself with painful thoughts (think fingernail breaking in the wrong spot)
Prayer
Sex
Trying to remember when L&O comes on
Envisioning possible futures
Wondering what any given relative or friend is up to right now
Making up excuses of not to do something
Bargaining with G-d
Complaining to myself
Imagining my happy place (it's a library with wait service and a very good menu/wine list)
Worry
Inventing games
Wondering about statical data
Narrating whatever is going on around me

The above are just a few of the things that go streaming through my head. I was thinking of this when watching Torchwood. One of the characters got a necklace that allowed her to read others thoughts The problem was she keyed in on the most negative and base thoughts of others, which I don't think is representative of what you'd pick up, and also not everyone can be doing a narrative.

My Super Villian

For a few weeks I have been imagining a super villain. The problem is her only super power is the ability to raise large sums of cash.
She is Dr. Emily Vahl (E. Vahl) head of the pro-Eco anti-human non-profit whose goal is to knock the human population down to 1 million people. 1 million because it is under a billion and the shock of that amount of human loss should help with greenhouse gases and other human caused population. Her organization funds and enhances wars, and develop deadly diseases particularly in 3rd & 2nd world countries. In industrialized countries they try to promote activities that would promote terrorism, and sterilizations. The organization's goals are met in two ways, prevent people from being born and knocking off the ones who were born.
Dr. Vahl sees herself as an alien, sent to rid the Earth of the worst of humanity. She believes the world is better off without humans. There is something mysterious about her that leads her to believe that she isn't human, but it would defy logic to believe she is anything but human. Going in a theological direction, she is an agent of Satan whose job it is to exploit the worse of human behavior and use that to destroy humans. The reason why she heads a pro-environmental group is it is her way of denying the evil of her plans and actions. By making the environment an excuse for her actions she feels justified to do what she does.
I haven't thought of a hero perfect enough to fight her. I did imagine a hero of sorts who also works for a non-profit that likes to go to 3rd world countries and save lives. But the problem is that it costs money to chase Dr. Vahl around. Money, better spent on vaccines.

G-d as It.

It. Not he, not she, but it.
I was just thinking of the 3 in 1, the trinity and specifically the Spirit, which sometimes defies description. G-d the Father, he, he who is the great I AM. G-d the son, describes the Father as male. There may be some translations and other great theological interpretations as to the masculinity of the Father, but here, now, the Father is he. The Son, being born of a virgin and raised from infancy to adulthood, I'm going to take a leap and say he was male. However the Spirit, that grace, that love, that gaaaah [waves arms wildly] seems neither male nor female, as the joy we experience when encountering a friend or the relief of forgiveness is neither inherently male nor female.
This neither male nor female it, is neutral. Well, the most un-neutral neutral thing ever as a powerful force that can change lives and make the impossible, possible, that can possibily be. And this Spirit, is one and comes from the Father and the Son, and is part of this great trinity.

A bunch of superheroes

The man to runs the joint where I work likes to be called "professor" as opposed to "the Archivist" or Dr. Such N. Such. "The Professor" sounds like a comic book character, like Professor Xavier of the X-Men.
So say we had a agency of superheroes within the agency. So up top we have The Professor, who can only appoint powers. Then we have the Librarian who can access any published material in English with just his mind. The the Conservator, who has nifty weapons like the spatula of DEATH, and glues, and tape and mylar. The Conservator can trap bad-guys in mylar so tough that they can escape. The Electronic Archivist who is like the Librarian but can access any thing that is in any computer, despite firewalls, that is linked up somehow, with his mind. The Intern who can copy anything, documents, voices, appearances at will. And lastly, the Records Manager who can walk into any building and and immediately has knowledge of every record, electronic, A/V or textual in said building right down to every single Post-it Note.
Over at the Library of Congress the other Librarian (there would be several in this universe) has a whole team of minor librarians with superpowers as well as the Poet, who has the power of suggestion. The Musicologist, who can do fancy things with notes and can play ever know musical instrument. And the Cataloger who can put anything in oder, not so much a superpower but rather OCD on steroids.
The superheroes go out and fight waste and corruption in he government until their operation is cut down by their arch nemeses, the President of the United States. The Conservator goes rogue and becomes a murderess for hire and the Records Manager becomes a corporate spy. The Cataloger goes insane and is locked away, forever.

Duh Vinci Code

I'm all out of BSG, so I'm back to watching regular movies with the odd British TV DVD thrown in. One of the films on the Netflix que was DaVinci Code. I watched it, and well... I'll review two movies.
Let's pretend I don't know a thing about Christianity, never heard of it. With that it had good cinematography, lovely locations, and action. However the heavy dependence on puzzles started to annoy me. Also I'm not a big fan of conspiracy theories. Working at the JFK Prez library led me to believe that there are too many kooks out there with conspiracy theories. Unfortunately, suspense of belief only goes so far with me. What only 1 guard in the Louvre? Offices in the museum part? Of the museums where I've worked the admin stays as far away from the tourists as possible. No security cameras around to catch the killer? Seriously, Law & Order: Paris would have had the murder of the curator wrapped up in 20 minutes.
Second review, as a Christian. Good lord, where do I start? When you bother to remember the Eastern Orthodox Church, the history given is garbage. Then again most of the history is garbage. Second, Mary M. goes to France/Gaul. Why? Why not settle in Rome? Or Egypt? Why the F Gaul? Third, JC, who was he because if not part of the trinity, who cares? Scenario A: JC not son of G-d, but a prophet with mystical powers. Wouldn't that be Islam's take on JC? So it wouldn't matter if he had kids. Mo hammed had wives and kids, so same diff. Scenario B: JC, son of G-d, father of some French peoples. Irresponsible cad. Let us remember he did bother to take time out from suffering and dying (Can't remember where in NT this is):
JC: Hey, you there, apostle.
Apostle: Who me?
JC: Yes, you. Old boy (imagine this all with ox-bridge accents), I'm in a bit of a pickle. I'm going to be leaving, but I will return at some point, but in the meanwhile I'm going to need someone to look after my dear ole mum. Could you swing that for me?
Apostle: Um, sure.
JC: Mummy.
Holy Mother Mary: Yes, dear?
JC: That dear fellow over there is your new son. Apostle chap, this lovely woman is your new mum. Mummy, apostle, apostle, mummy. Now I'm going to get back to suffering for the world's sins while you two get acquainted.
So, if regular JC took care of his mother, why not his "wife". And if anyone's womb is all that and a bag of chips, it would be that of the holy mother.

Virtue and goodness

Cross-posted from another blog:

I think it was Law & Order:Criminal Intent where the Dentist was found dead and the kids rifled through his stuff. They saw the deaceased or dying DDS, went through his stuff and left. In the interrogation the mother of one of the boys claimed that "they were good boys". Then the detective pointed out if they were good boys they would have called 9-1-1 instead of doing what they did.

To me this pointed out our definition of 'good' is completely messed up. I understand the mother's definition of good, as in lack of doing incredibly evil things and the detective's definition as proactive goodness. This made me think of something I read from the Eastern Orthodox tradition in trying to make a point distinguishing themselves from the Roman Catholics, about it's not the avoidance of evil but the pursuit of virtue that we should concern ourselves with.
The minor characters (the boys) should have chosen the more virtuous path, trying to help the dentist, or calling the cops, or reporting it to an adult.

We blame the citizenry of a country or state or city for tragedies and injustices when that citizenry stands back and does nothing. Even if they did not elect the monsters in power, or even if they did not participate actively or passively in the wrong doing, they are blamed. Because they did not pursue the virtuous path.

So what if our judgement stands on what we have done, and not what we haven't done? Like some standard college test where the right (virtuous) answer gives you points, the wrong answer subtracts points, and no answer neither adds or takes away.

I still don't want your d*mned pity

I think, and I'm not 100% sure, that I was the subject of someone's pity. I hope I am wrong. Though the more I think of it the madder I get. Luckily, if my theory is correct, it has blown back into the pitier's face. And that gives my little sadistic self, joy.
The reason for the anger, is the problem with pity (as opposed to compassion), in that you just see the problem and not the person. Yes, I'm imperfect in many ways, some that I readily acknowledge, but many of those imperfections are not really worth pity. I just find it insulting that I'm defined by my problems and imperfections. Another problem is I believe I'm everyone's equal. Well, in general. Yes, there are people better than me when it comes to math, science, theology, etc, however when it comes to my worth as a person, I believe I'm your equal, and by the same token you are mine. Pity, to me seems to mess with that notion of equality.
But I'm not innocent. I have pitied. I pity because it is cheaper and faster than compassion.

The need for humility

I received some praise recently and I felt myself wince at it.
I like praise, but more accurately, I like feedback. Constructive criticism and pointing out what was done right. I get a thrill when something I've done has done someone else good and that someone tells me about it. I like to know when I've best served my fellow man. I find it helpful when someone points out something I've done, that could be done better without wandering away from my main goal. However inflated praise, I'm not too keen on, it screws up with my attempts to be humble at times. So I wince.
Please do not mistake humility for low self esteem. I'm a child of G-d, nuff said.
The reason for this posting is a slight annoyance with persons who in their roles as experts and people in positions of leadership/other who do not approach/serve others with humility.

For me, and maybe others, dreams are not like movies. I'm not simply observing a random mess of events. No. In these dreams I already have back story, there are symbols that I , as a participant can interpret, and I feel. There can be feelings of love, loss, burning hate, deathly fear, and crankiness. If strong enough the feelings can linger into the waking moments or be the reason for the waking.
So last night I had a dream of betrayal and humiliation. Oh, that sounds so soap opry. Well it featured a Bollywood actor, and goodness knows Bollywood is not the bastion of deep cin-nee-ma. There was a Bollywood movie I saw once where apparently all the white people in England died out as the buildings were pretty much British as was the school style, and three men, waaaay older than their characters played young men at a school. One actor, playing the cool leather jacket wearing guy, wore some serious cake make-up. Anyway, a similar character in the dream, with the make-up. Really, the make up was its own character. In the Bollywood movie I remember the actor from, he has one of the more steamier and more modern dance numbers. Whereas there is traditional dance (all edited together representing what I don't know) for another female character who is part of another couple. See lotta back story, which makes explaining dreams not worth it.
I can sum up the dream better, than explaining it. Don't trust actors. Or maybe dancers? Dance played a part in dealing with the betrayal, that and backleading. I let the Bollywood guy lead and in dancing the lead is supposed to look out and take care of the follow so she, will follow. The lead in this case did something that violated my trust as a follow, and upon realizing my trust was misplaced I took the only control I could and back-lead to save as much face as I could.
What lingered in the waking hours was white hot pain of a feeling of a trust violated. I haven't felt that lately in real life, thank goodness. But it was so strong that I'm fired up to prevent ever being in that position. And maybe I need to rent that stupid film again.

Methodists

Last night and this morning I was haunted by the memory of a (should be now former) head of the medical association that I once worked for. During the DC convention (the following year's convention left me stranded in Denver on 9-11) this head, a surgeon born in Malaysia, took a number of the staff out to dinner to a Malaysian restaurant just south of Dupont Circle.
Addressing the crowd of family, association members/doctors and staff he spoke of his humble beginnings and how the Methodists educated him and he credited them for the doctor he had become. The Methodists provided his primary education and seemed to have been an influential presence in his life.
Maybe it was seeing Major Barbara, member of the Methodist spin off Salvation Army, and thinking about missionary work.

Hating Poor People bc They're Poor, Makes As Much Sense As Hating the Rich bc They're Rich

I was in a situation where I encountered what definitely had a whiff of 'ew, poor people' about it. Diversity isn't without its challenges. When I advertise the room out I try to weed out the people who just can't deal with poor people period. However I'll take the people who will later have solid reasons for disliking certain poor people. But I digress a bit.
Coming from an impoverished American background and now being quite and unapologetically bourgie, I do meet other members of the middle class, raised that way, who have no patience or sympathy for the poor. Or maybe what I'm sensing is a lack of obligation to the poor, particularly when the poor people in question live in the same friggin neighborhood as you and you have to deal with them as people and not as an abstraction. The spirit of the dislike of the immediate poor seems to me to have the same air about it as the dislike of the rich for the simple fact that the rich are rich.

Decsion 2008

My roomie and I were talking and somehow the Presidential candidates came up. I mentioned that of the Republicans I support Ron Paul and of the Democrats, Obama. I think I got sneered at. And Yalie boy said for me it was all about the taxes.
Now, I know Ron Paul has a snowball's chance in Hell. If everyone else dies in a bunch of fiery plane crashes and he becomes the GOP nominee there is no way he'd actually win the Presidency. So I support him ideologically. Any man you can bring gun-nuts and stoners together has my vote. I've sent about $50 to his campaign already.
I support Obama because we need him as president, for about 4 years. There is some policy stuff of his I dislike, but luckily, it is stuff that the Congress can stop, hinder, or screw up. America needs an African-American president. America needs a bi-racial President. Also he's intelligent, charismatic, and cares about America. Also I dislike Mrs. Clinton.

Thoughts on a platonic love

My love for Jonathan knows almost no bounds,
Nor does it knows where it's going,
Quite directionless and aimless.
Demented octogenarians have a greater clue than my love.
Actually, besides being 'love',
I don't think it has any redeeming qualities.

Come to think.
It's very lazy.
One moment filled with limitless joy & energy.
Next, slight indifference.
It depends too much on proximity.
As I said few, if any redeeming qualities.

But when it is overflowing
There is warmth,
Camaraderie,
Connection,
& an indescribable joy that cannot be boxed in by mere words.

Jesus, Social Butterfly

I'm semi-reflecting on the Gospels and readings of late and coming to think that Jesus, Our Lord & Saviour was a social butterfly. He's at the Wedding at Cana, and bringing the good wine:
John 2:10 ..."Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now."
He's at gatherings with Pharisees, tax collectors, everywhere where people come together to eat. And he encourages us to mix it up, bring in people outside our usual circle. It is as if the Word made Flesh discovered on a certain level (a level that could not be appreciated as a plain old deity in Heaven) that parties were the coolest thing ever and decided that everyone should experience this, ok party at my father's house.
G-d, it seems to really like, no make that love, people, despite all that Old Testament smiting and smoting. He as G-d the Son, was in the middle of humanity, mingling with humanity, and breaking bread (or several thousand loaves) with them.

Harry Potter and Mutants

Really, I'm reading several of the Harry Potter books in he last few weeks and I am aware of the opposition from fellow Christians but the powers of the Hogwarts kids are no different than Xavier's mutant kids. They do not call upon Satan, do their powers are not demonic. Like Mutants they are born with abilities that must be honed and trained, less they do something stupid. And like Mutants they have to remain separate from the general populace that does not understand them and fears them.

The mystery of the divine

First, I know my puny little human mind is limited. And it is not going to make sense, because I'm trying to work it out.
With that
G-d is love. Love, a force that can go beyond the definition of space and time. Love, a huge powerful force that comes in all sorts of forms. Worse yet, it cannot be measured by science (if it can I want to know who mom loves more), nor can it be placed in controlled experiments. That might go with the mystery of it. You can't control it. In it's raw powerful forms it just plain f'ing scary.
The podcasts and readings by people of faith about Harry Potter, which seem to make it out to be a series of love (fraternal, paternal, etc) stories, the invocation of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and its themes of love, and other media I get that discuss G-d's life changing miricle inducing love, has got me thinking about it, in its various manifestations.
Going back to the G-d is love idea as a force of love, is just too mysterious. Some parts you can figure out, and some parts are beyond you and you just have to go with it. The problem with going with it is I have to give up some control. "Give it all up to the Lord" I'm told, but then I'm giving it up to this mysterious force that has a wonky timetable (patience they call it) and has its own agenda (his will be done).
Unlike plain old power, brute force, love gets ahold of your heart. Melts it. Makes you want to engage in time consuming acts of charity (form of love), forgive those who wouldn't respond in kind, and engage in other sacrifices. It makes herion addicts give up the smack, it makes martyrs, it changes minds. My problem is when you know what direction love is taking your heart and your logical/ analytical brain fights it because it makes no sense and it is time consuming.
I should note that occasionally my brain wants to sleep in all Sunday, and sometimes I think it has a point.
Once again I digress. So I pray. I am praying a (um I don't remember the exact wording) a special intercession or special 'i' something 'request' would be an easier term at the request of a co-worker. I say prayers of thanks and throw in my own requests to this mysterious force that cannot be bargained with and hope that His will won't bite me in the butt.
My brain is telling me I'm not making any sense and I should go to bed.

Looking for G-d in Harry Potter

I'm almost afraid to finish this book, "Looking for God in Harry Potter" by John Granger. First, I've only read one Harry Potter book, I know hard to believe, but fiction is not something I read. I used to read a lot of sci-fi fiction in high school and college, but once I hit grad school, no more. Second, I've seen most of the Harry Potter movies, but knowing how movies go, there is a lot that is left out. Granger's book mention things I cannot conjure up from my memory of the films, so it must have been left out.
In somethings I think Granger is stretching a little too far finding the symbols of Christ everywhere. The stag is Christ. The unicorn is Christ. The red lion is Christ. The centaur is Christ. That's a lot of Christs or symbols of the Christ running around. I could prove myself wrong when I re-read the books and say, "of course! The [random creature] is a symbol of Christ [doing something]."
I did hit something that made me finally whip out the pencil and write in the book (I do that, write in the margins). There is a scene where Harry observed Lord Voldemort drinking the blood of a unicorn the Dark Lord wounded (killed?). A centaur explained that "The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips." Granger then compares this to 1 Corinthians 11: 23-29 and thus highlights a portion for me that, I hate to say, seems new. That being

1 Corinthians 11:25-27 (New International Version):New International Version (NIV)
25In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me." 26For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.
27Therefore, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord.

This now makes me a little hesitant to go to church today. The Eucharist is the main draw for me, the presence of his body and blood. And well. I know I'm not worthy. And seriously, this is my first time realizing there was a restriction on the communion. The whole 'unworthy manner' thing is news to me. I might have read it before but never gave it much thought.

Time

I lack dicipline.
I don't read as much as I used to.
I spend too much time on this computer.
I watch too much TV.
All that, takes time. Time that I have squandered. Bad me.

Brides of Christ

Okay, this is one of those random thoughts that wander through my head. So the Church, capital C, is the bride of Christ. Which Church are we talking about? The whole Christian world or the RC or the OC, both, all the above?
Then I wondered, if the RC is the bride of Christ and constantly thinks of herself as such, and maybe the OC is the same (dunno, but I'm sure someone would be more than happy to set me straight), then are oddball Christian sects that really don't proclaim Christ as Lord the occasional girlfriend of Christ? Calling on Christ only when she's drunk and lonely at 2AM after breaking up with Krishna after an arguement about hamburger helper? And cause Jesus is a stand up kind of guy, with open arms, all that good stuff, is willing to forgive, but the problems remain cause she won't settle down and be a bride. Then 6 months later she's run off with some Wiccan earth spirit or some such demigod, 'cause that whole one true G-d thing, too restrictive. She thinks Jesus is a great teacher and all and maybe they can just be friends.
Oh yeah, I'm so going to hell.