Brain Food

God is no respecter of persons, and this is something we are reluctant to face.

We would like God's ways to be like our ways, his judgments to be like our judgments. It is hard for us to understand that he lavishly gives enormous talents to people we would consider unworthy, that he chooses his artists with as calm a disregard of surface moral qualifications as he chooses his saints.

Often we forget that he has a special gift for each one of us, because we tend to weigh and measure such gifts with the coin of the world's market place. The widow's mite was worth more than all the rich men's gold because it represented the focus of her life . . .. As Emmanuel, Cardinal Suhard says, "To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist."

The widow's mite and Bach's St. Matthew's Passion are both "living mysteries," both witness to lives which affirm the loving presence of God.
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Kandinsky and van Gogh say more than they know in their paintings. So does a devout a devout man who is not a Christian, but a Jew and a philosopher, Martin Buber. Listen: "You should utter words as though heaven were opened within them and as though you did not put the word into your mouth, but as though you had entered the word." 

~ Madeleine L'Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art

Verona

Endings

This morning, as I was worrying about how I'm going to finish my book, I had a brain wave. I got to thinking that if I followed the natural bent of each character, the book should resolve itself organically. I just needed (need) the right event for the characters to react to. But in any case, once I've written the conclusion, the story should be almost unimaginable any other way. Most good books are like that. I would include a few sophisticated examples here, but I'd hate to spoil a book you haven't read, so I'll choose a story everyone should know:

Peter Rabbit in Mr. McGregor's garden [From: Peter Rabbit, by Beatrix Potter]

I'm assuming most of you know this story. Can you imagine if Peter had been put into a pie by Mrs. McGregor? Of course not! Aside from that being a decidedly not-child-friendly ending, that's not how Peter's character works. He is mischievous, he gets into trouble, but--gracefully or not--he always manages to wiggle his way out of the worst consequences for his actions. Of course, we only get to see his escape-artist tendencies because he comes into conflict with Mr. McGregor. Ms. Potter introduces a dramatic situation and allows her characters to react naturally to it.

Anyway, somehow I ended up transposing this train of thought to real life. If you're at all like me, you often wonder how life will work out. In my case at least, things don't always go the way I think they should. Case in point, I didn't get accepted to any of the four graduate programs I applied for last fall. But looking back, I couldn't really imagine (or want) events to have worked out differently. I wouldn't trade my rejection letters, now that I know what they led to: 7 or 8 months of exploring Europe, writing, making friends, having adventures. I'm not saying that God works like a writer, but it is interesting to think about. Maybe, driven by circumstances largely beyond our control, we choose what is best--all the while thinking we're settling for plan B. Only later can we see that without that "misstep," our lives would be less rich, our souls less developed, and we wouldn't be ready for what lies ahead. (I know that's not a very lucid explanation. God's relationship to man's volition is a complicated mess to dip my foot in, anyway. But just trying to get these ideas out of my head and onto the page.)

Piazza Erbe in Verona.

One final tangent . . . In the end, what event or choice in our lives isn't significant? A great writer ensures that no conversation, no description in a novel is wasted--everything is tending toward the grand conclusion. Here's a quote from one of my favorite authors who excels at celebrating the "small" things:

"I tell you," went on Syme with passion, "that every time a train comes in I feel that it has broken past batteries of besiegers, and that man has won a battle against chaos. You say contemptuously that when one has left Sloane Square one must come to Victoria. I say that one might do a thousand things instead, and that whenever I really come there I have the sense of hairbreadth escape. And when I hear the guard shout out the word 'Victoria,' it is not an unmeaning word. It is to me the cry of a herald announcing conquest. It is to me indeed 'Victoria'; it is the victory of Adam."- The Man Who Was Thursday, G. K. Chesterton

My mom in front of St. Pancras International Hotel, near King's Cross/St. Pancras Station.

[but it will not steal your substance]

"Brother, let me ask one thing more: has any man a right to look at other men and decide which is worthy to live?"

 _

"Karamazov," cried Kolya, "can it be true what's taught us in religion, that we shall all rise again from the dead and shall live and see each other again, all, Ilusha too?"
 "Certainly we shall all rise again, certainly we shall see each other and shall tell each other with joy and gladness all that has happened!" Alyosha answered, half laughing, half enthusiastic.
"Ah, how splendid it will be!" broke from Kolya. 

- Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

Then the new earth and the sky, the same yet not the same as these, will rise in us as we have risen in Christ. And once again, after who knows what aeons of the silence and the dark, the birds will sing and the waters flow, and lights and shadows move across the hills, and the faces of our friends laugh upon us with amazed recognition.
Guesses of course, only guesses. If they are not true, something better will be. For "we know that we shall be made like Him, for we shall see Him as He is."

- C. S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer

Essex, England.

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.

^{- Romans 6:5}

^{[Title Credit: Mumford & Sons, "Timshel." Most of my titles are taken from song lyrics. I'll try to remember to give credit in future.]}

Oh my eyes shall see light again.

Yes, I was briefly on a surfboard (in the water, no less)!

I decided that I've written enough dry, introspective posts for a while. So, for a change of pace, here are some pictures! A lot were taken by my Mom, and all are from our trip down to La Jolla to visit my dad's family--and of course hang out at the beach!

Dad and my adorable niece Kendall.

Keith and Deming (Kendall's older sister).

Uncle Chris and Joey.

Aunt Tammy and Grammy Poo.

Our family has some good genes, right?

Kendall and Stevie.

Frank and his girlfriend, Jeriel.

Mom and my awesome sister-in-law, Erin.