Looking For The Long Ride

It has been a busy time and a long blog-think pause—I don’t imagine I have had an original thought in over three weeks and can’t remember the last book I read. But life is like that sometimes.

Meanwhile, my friend David is burning the midnight oil over at Spirit of the wild wood blog and coming to some interesting conclusions. Check it out.

It is the Saturday before Christmas and the big project at work is finally put to bed and sent to the printer. It will need a little more attention come January—but in the meantime I will finally be able to catch a breath and maybe express a few thoughts that are rolling around in my head.

It seems like the really big question these days is what is Christianity supposed to look like in the the world we find ourselves living in. There are literally thousands of blogs posting provocative insights into this very self-same question daily. There is no lack of information net-wise on most anything a person might want to explore. Yet the very core of the Christian walk seems almost as elusive as ever—at least to me and my somewhat worn-out mind.

Today I stopped by a local shop I frequent when I need what they have to sell (I am being vague on purpose). I guess I felt a little push inside to explore my relationship with the clerk—or maybe it was that I felt great after a half-hour workout in the pool. Who knows?

I recalled in passing having my guitar fixed many years ago by a fine repairman who happened to be a Jehovah’s Witness. He was a really nice guy and I always looked forward to our meetings so that I could mess with his mind just a little about Jesus. The clerk then began to tell me how bad she felt about all the Muslims and Buddists that according to fundamental (read radical) Christians are going to hell.

I then tried to explain to her as gently as I could that it wasn’t her that was passing judgment on these people but God. Since I was on a roll (or so I thought), I went on to explain that I felt that a lot of harm had been done in the world by Christians who thought they were “doing” something for God.

As I read the scripture I am confronted by the fact that vengeance is the Lord’s and that He will repay. I don’t remember reading where we are to take the law into our own hands and dole out the wrath of God for Him. David was even repentant for cutting off a portion of Saul’s cloak even though God had told him he was going to be the next King of Israel.

In other words—how are we to display the fact that we are Christians to the rest of the world?

Years ago I worked for a printer in the town I live in. During slow times I had the press man make some many colored postcards for me. He worked on a one-color-at-a-time-press and it took several press jobs to get the postcards done. The postcard—which I still have several of—says: “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love” and is from Galatians 5:6b.

Today that scripture was once again brought home to me. In light of what I have read on many blogs and what I am currently feeling—this may indeed be a key to moving on in the Christian life.

It is not our job to make sure that God is represented in a legislative way in the earth—but rather in a relational way. Either we represent a God who through His Son Jesus can heal and make lives whole or we don’t.

If we do—our only job is to let Him do His and we do ours.

I am aware that this simple statement doesn’t answer all the questions that are out there at this very moment—troops in Iraq and starving children in almost every nation. But what I do believe is that at some point we need to begin to inhabit the kingdom of God which we are told is neigh unto us.

What do you think?

Right or wrong, I have always been intrigued by the seeming dichotomy between the “…my burden is easy” of scripture and the actual experience if walking out the gospel on a day to day basis. I fully believe that we have been given the free gift of “…life and that more abundantly” but my actual experience often seems to fall short of this ideal.

In all of this thinking and wondering, I am not trying to make excuses for my lazy sinful old self that crops up from time to time or my lack of faith that fully realized would enable me to jump off the fence that I find myself on.

I have been torn my entire Christian life with this dilemma—that there is
a way to enter into a completely overcoming life. I know this sounds a
bit naive but some part of me is still looking for the password that
will usher me into a life—that no matter what comes—I can laugh at my
circumstance and continue.

Knowing that it is there and becoming fully realized in it are two very different things.

In short—because I am really up to my neck in work alligators—I give you the following to ponder with me.

A friend of mine posted this video on her my space page and I thought it interesting enough to share it with you and see what you get out if it (isn’t that what bloggers do?).

So here goes…..

Worship Video

Several years ago a friend of mine turned me onto an awesome
singer/songwriter and mandolin player named Mark Heard. Mark was one of
those radical Christians who lived his life to the fullest. I don’t
know a whole lot about his life other than the fact that he died too
young.

He was a “musician’s” musician and well known in that
circle but never achieved mainstream popularity. After his death a lot
of musicians got together and made a tribute album for his wife because
Mark had no insurance when he died. It was called “Strong Hand Of Love”
and features various popular artists recording his songs.

<img src="/images/49366-44812/mark_heard.jpg” border=”0″ width=”240″>

I
think the thing that initially intrigued me about Mark was that even
though he was a Christian, and many of his lyrics reflect this, pushing
every song through a “popular plastic” Christian singer/songwriter mode
was not his style. Many people at that time had become very legalistic
in their listening habits and everything that didn’t have the name of
the Lord in every verse was suspect. This, even though many of those
popular Christian artists were doing drugs, getting divorced and in
reality could never live up to the hype surrounding them.

I
didn’t know it at the time but I came into contact with Mark Heard
after discovering another singer-songwriter named Pirece Pettis. I saw
him at a club in Asheville, North Carolina in the early nineties at the
recommendation of a friend who listened to a lot of “semi-Christian”
music.

Pirece sang a song that evening I later learned was a
Mark Heard song called “Nod Over Coffee”. If you want to listen to it
click the link below.

<a href="/files/49366-44812/07_Nod_Over_Coffee_1.mp3″>Nod Over Coffee

I
was struck by its warmth and sincerity along with its poetic nature. I
personally like Pierce’s version better than Mark’s although they are
both good. Sometimes the interpretation is more developed than the
original.

What got me started in this vein was a mention in
church last Sunday about the dry bones in Ezekiel chapter 37. In that
chapter Ezekiel was told to prophesy to a great many dry bones in a
valley. Ezekiel goes on to say:

So I prophesied
as I was commanded: and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and behold
a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bone. And when I
beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin
covered them above: but there was no breath in them. Then said he unto
me, Prophesy unto the wind, prophesy, son of man, and say to the wind,
Thus saith the Lord GOD; Come from the four winds, O breath, and
breathe upon these slain, that they may live. So I prophesied as he
commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood
up upon their feet, an exceeding great army. (KJV)

Now
you are probably wondering how I got here from where I began—it’s
easy—Mark Heard also wrote a song about dry bones called “Dry Bones
Dance”  One of the verses goes like this:

Every now and then I seem to dream these dreams

Where the dead ones live and the hurt ones heal

Touching that miraculous circumstance

Where the blind ones see and the dry bones dance

The point being that things are not always what they seem on the surface in the kingdom of God—that there still is hope for us even though we sometimes think we are dry and barren.

In closing, I have included a link to a Mark
Heard lyrics page and another verse to another song that I keep on the
wall by my computer at work. I think it sums up where I am
occasionally, have been visitor of, and may find myself sometimes in
the future. It’s a cry we can all relate to. Have a great ride.

I Just Want To Be Warm

There are things I should remember

But I have forgotten how

I’m all tied up with no time

Trying do too much

And the thoughts that I’ve avoided

Are the ones I need right now

Like a warm wind and love’s hand

And I just wanna be touched

And I just wanna be real

And I just wanna get well

And I just wanna be healed

And I just wanna be warm

PS: (1/1/2008) I received this e-mail a day or two after I posted this. The video is great…check it out.

If you would like to watch a music video of Pierce Pettis performing Nod Over Coffee, you can see it my blog. I also posted the full lyrics to the song.

I appreciate you keeping Mark’s music alive.

Okie Lawyer

Most of us in America at this point in time have watched television since we were kids. Shows like the Three Stooges, My Three Sons, Father Knows Best and of course Sunday evening with Ed Sullivan were staples during my formative years.

We were and continue to be entertained and educated by television—the Kennedy assassination and the 9/11 World Trade Center attack being two prime examples of the latter.

In light of the current television writers strike, I have become increasingly aware that television is not about us, the consumer anymore, but is a bottom-line driven big business. The big four (ABC, CBS, NBC and Fox) don’t really care about us, the viewer and haven’t for some many years.

If a new program doesn’t show major financial promise within a few episodes, it is thrown away like so much stale food—with never a consideration of the quality that may be inherent in the shows creative process.

In other words, you can pretty much say if I like the program, chances are it won’t last. That being said I will have to admit to a fondness towards such quirky shows like Picket Fences, Northern Exposure, Joan of Arcadia and Earth Two. I do like the CSI and Law & Order type shows but will readily admit that they are like so much TV eye candy—normally well written and acted but easily forgotten after one viewing. And they all pretty much explore only one aspect of the human psyche—the predilection towards violence.

When Sandi and I moved to North Carolina, we didn’t have a TV for a year or two and then, after our first child was born, got a small black and white television with which to watch re-runs of Perry Mason, Andy Griffith and Sesame Street. Most of our spare time was spent reading or hiking or doing all the other things people who don’t have TV’s do.

Kind of like the “middle-ages” right!

Anyway, having said all that, I think it is time that we let Hollywood know who’s the boss. That we are no longer going to sit around and let “them” decide what we will be offered to watch—and then to have our favorite shows yanked after we have committed ourselves to the characters and their respective lives.

I think a TV Blackout Boycott would be good for a few days. When the advertisers realize that no one is seeing their million dollar ads, maybe things will change.

I realize that this is highly idealistic and that most people will not give up their TV’s if only for a few days. Exxon/Mobil is still  around following the Valdez episode and even though I didn’t go to a McDonald’s Restaurant for several years out of frustration concerning their lack of local initiative, they are still in business as well.

But can you imagine what it would look like with everybody checking out the local libraries—maybe even some local bookstores and Amazon dot com would make a profit for a few days if the TV was turned off at night during prime time.

Maybe we could even have some people over for coffee and dessert and listen to an old Jackson Browne album.

Or we could get caught up on our bills or correspondence or all those odd jobs we have been putting off because we were busy watching TV.

I think I will send a link to ABC and the others and wait for the bookstores and libraries to fill up. What do you think?

Today is a Joni Mitchell sort of morning. As I drove my daughter and her friend to school on this brisk, early-winter sort of day—her sweet Canadian voice flowed from the late sixties and early seventies through the stereo speakers and into the car.

And that voice: no matter what the weather is like outside her words always wrap around me like an old woolen blanket.

Like fresh cream into a hot cup of coffee, her songs are introspective enough to set a mind to thinking about all sorts of possibilities—past and present and future. Some thing’s lost and something is gained in living everyday—you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone—they paved paradise and put up a parking lot.

I can’t help but wonder what drives us to create songs or art or literature in the first place and then keeps us hoping against hope that things really will be “alright”.

Life really is sweet and so worth the effort whether we approach it from a more melancholy side or an overly optimistic point of view—the feelings we are left with are similar.

What Joni’s songs do for me is create a desire within to reflect on life and the many situations that I find myself in. Yes, a secular song can generate a spiritual response. We don’t live in a vacuum and I firmly believe that God has given gifts to men and women without repentance—which means to me that Joni’s gifts are God-given whether she will ever acknowledge that truth or not. She is just like us Christians in one sort of way—she has lived her life in full view of many others and has the scars to show for it.

As a songwriter, the dynamics of her life and loves, her mistakes and all the rest are in the public domain. And as the many life-themes resonate through her songs, I am struck by the compassion I feel for people who have lost in love and made the wrong choices for what they thought were the right reasons. It is only at this stage in my life that I can see that all of us have been caught up in some sort of drama at some time and that it takes a lot of effort to get up off the floor and begin to walk again into that good night. But walk we must—it is only as we move forward that we can find the peace that passes understanding spoken of in scripture.

As Joni was singing “Big Yellow Taxi” this morning, my daughter turned to me and asked who we were listening to. I told her and said that by doing so I was continuing her education in musical tastes and styles of the late sixties, seventies and early eighties and that she would be the wiser for having listened. I don’t think she really believed me but I can only put it out there—whether or not she hears is another matter altogether.

I was interrupted this week by a thought that seems to encompass in its simplicity some of the mystery of life surrounding the passing of years and the very act of aging itself.

There is first of all the temporal—the plane of existence that we currently inhabit. The temporal is a part of another plane called the eternal—a place of being that all the rest of what we find around us is a part of. The eternal has always been and will always be. As far as we know it has no beginning and no end.

So yes, our brief journey here on earth is a part of all that is and ever more will be—what we sometimes call reality.

The very moment that we are born into this human form, the process of life begins and within that process is growth and aging—then death and after that life immortal.

All very other-worldly and not even close to where we seem to live on a day to day basis.

And to think that these very thoughts began as I looked into the mirror in my bathroom one morning last week.

Most of us know by now that a person doesn’t need anyone else to tell them that they are getting older. It is a process—one that begins with the most banal (where are those reading glasses anyway) and slowly begins to grab our attention as the annual birthday celebrations fade into the background.

We see our friends of many years go gray and begin to get lines and wrinkles in places that are the most visible to everyone. We get pictures in the mail from that last get together and wonder who that guy is with our wives—I am just pulling your leg but you know what I mean—I can’t really be “that” guy can I. I don’t feel like “that” guy must feel.

But that’s not really the point of this little story.

The point is that I can’t let the aging process define who I am—or at least what I perceive to be the negative effects of aging or those I am most culturally sensitive to. Lets face it, wrinkles around the eyes and mouth look alright—almost distinguished—on everybody else but you.

I have been watching DVD’s of an old science fiction series called “Earth Two”. I really liked the series when it was on TV in 1995 and have wanted the complete first and only season for several years. It was something about the characters that drew me in lo those many years ago. The planet earth had become sick and overpopulated and many millions were living on space stations where the young people were becoming infected with a wasting disease. So the search for another place to live was begun and in the process, this small group of people crash landed on another earth-like planet in another galaxy.

The series explores their collective travels across this new and very different planet to a place called New Pacifica where another explorer group had hopefully landed many years before. Of course they meet up with “alien” life forms and all that other science fiction stuff but the series is still—after almost 12 years—relevant and intriguing. What makes it intriguing is what makes the books we read and the plays we see and the lives we lead interesting as well. There is human drama—good guys and bad guys as well as the making of mistakes and the acts of forgiveness after the mistakes are made. There is the sense of community and individuality playing out in an everyday, very existence sort of way.

Sure, they have lines and wrinkles and are working out the aging process in front of our very eyes. But it is the idea of the “big picture” that keeps them focused and continuing their journey.

If I let that man I see in the morning mirror define who I am (getting old and wrinkly) I wouldn’t even get out of bed in the morning. Our job is to see beyond the physical (even though that image is really us) and into the spiritual nature of life.

We must focus on the eternal things—honor and respect and expressing our love for one another through good deeds and so forth (just to name a few). These temporal bodies will wear out some day and if we put all of our hope in them I am afraid we will have missed the boat or the train or whatever else it will be that comes around and collects us for the next phase of our journey.

I am reminded of a line in a poem by Dylan Thomas which goes like this: Do not go gentle in that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And even though I don’t totally understand his metaphor and the rest of the poem let me suggest that there is a lot more life after a few wrinkles and perhaps some flabby skin seem to appear as if out of nowhere. Let’s not let the aging process scare us into thinking that we are not really 25 years old anymore and capable of most anything we set our hearts and minds to.

Perhaps the ride is never really over until we stop looking for it.

Added 11-27

This idea was fleshed out at:

reluctant servant

Today I am certainly glad that I am not what I think—if I were I would register a negative number on the “richter” scale of life. First there was “writer’s block” which describes a situation of not being able to find enough thoughts to put on paper and currently in modern culture there is “blog-block” which is like writer’s block but blog related.

Every “blogger” gets it. And for the sake of argument I would postulate that all the reasons are different.

Blogging, like writing poetry is a sound-bite sort of thing. We get a flash of a thought or stream of an idea and then our mind takes the thought on a ride and where we end up is determined mostly (at times) by perseverance and/or a determination to make sense of all that is around us. Sometimes we make the three point shot and sometimes we crawl back to the bench and wait for the energy to build up enough to begin again.

As a writer, I have often been faced with the thought that I am not even unique enough to have an original idea worth repeating. But then I realize that everything is subjective and we all have something to add to the stew of life as we know it.

Yesterday I downloaded the Beatles “Let It Be Naked” onto my ipod. It was an album that was recorded during their tumultuous late 60’s sessions. Phil Spector took it in 1970 and made it into an orchestral type of thing when it was really a raw and back to the roots sort of project. When I had listened to it before I had skipped over the songs that I felt were not that good and only focused on what I liked and was familiar with—songs like “Get Back” and the title tune. When listening to it the other day I let it play through and really enjoyed all the songs.

I guess what I am getting at (a big leap) is the fact that we often get into ruts as we proceed down life’s highway. The ruts get so deep sometimes that even when we might have a real desire or calling to go left or right, our wheels are so deep into the ruts that only a big crane could pull us out and allow us to go in a different direction.

I am reminded of what Paul said in scripture—he found himself doing the very things he didn’t want to do—that there was a war going on inside of him. In Romans 7 he gives us the answer as to how to get out of that rut—of not always doing what it is we want to to—yet leaves me with the suspicion that it is not that easy in practice.

I like to swim laps and have a membership at the local “Wellness Center”. I am not much of a early-morning-before-work type of fellow and by the time work is over I don’t really relish going to the gym then either. I have been most successful working out or swimming at noon—yet this is a time when those I work with like to do lunch and fellowship. I am conflicted.

On Tuesday mornings it is my turn to take my daughter and a friend to school. I thought that as long as I was in town I might just head to the pool and do a few laps and then go into work a little later and stay a little longer at night to make up the time—it would be the best of both worlds—I get to workout and keep healthy and also get to eat lunch with my friends.

That first day was hard though. I seemed to get every red light on my way and by the time I got to the gym I thought I might just as well go into work and forget the whole thing. But I pushed through my doubts and had a great time swimming and really felt like a million bucks the rest of the day—muscle burn and all. I think I was more productive as well and the pool wasn’t even busy which made it even better. Now all I have to do is work in a couple more times a week and I will really be doing well.

Yes, it was hard to get out of that rut of not going to the Wellness Center even though I had a membership. During the summer and fall I could justify not going because I was riding my bike—but when the temperature drops the gym is the only way to go. But it is never really easy—Chinese food with friends or workout with its get undressed, dressed, swim, shower and get dressed scenario playing out in my mind.

Anyway, today is Thanksgiving and that I am. In the process of trying to do what I want rather than what I don’t want, I am going to take some time and organize my life and thoughts accordingly. It is a four day weekend before putting the push on at work to get all that needs to get done before the end of the year happens.

Let’s not let our bad habits rule our lives—rather practice doing what we know we should—the rest will take care of itself.

Enjoy your ride today and your turkey sandwich tomorrow.

Also in my post, I ended with a biblical direction as I have done in many previous samplings. So, I was more than intrigued when I read a poem written by Fuller that was taken whole or in part as the impetus for the Whole Earth concept.

Please enjoy this rabbit chase. There is more to this than meets the eye.

   I see God in
   the instruments and the mechanisms that
   work
   reliably,
   more reliably than the limited sensory departments of
   the human mechanism.
   And God says
   observe the paradox
   of man's creative potentials
   and his destructive tactics.
   He could have his new world
   through sufficient love
   for "all's fair"
   in love as well as in war
   which means you can
   junk as much rubbish,
   skip as many stupid agreements
   by love,
   spontaneous unselfishness radiant.

   The revolution has come--
   set on fire from the top.
   Let it burn swiftly.
   Neither the branches, trunk, nor roots will be endangered.
   Only last year's leaves and
   the parasite-bearded moss and orchids
   will not be there
   when the next spring brings fresh growth
   and free standing flowers.

   Here is God's purpose--
   God, to me, it seems,
   is a verb
   not a noun,
   proper or improper;
   is the articulation
   not the art, objective or subjective;
   is loving,
   not the abstraction "love" commanded or entreated;
   is knowledge dynamic,
   not legislative code,
   not proclamation law.
   not academic dogma, not ecclesiastic canon.
   Yes, God is a verb,
   the most active,
   connoting the vast harmonic
   reordering of the universe
   from unleashed chaos of energy.
   And there is born unheralded
   a great natural peace,
   not out of exclusive
   pseudo-static security
   but out of including, refining, dynamic balancing.
   Naught is lost.
   Only the false and nonexistent are dispelled.

   And I've thought through to tomorrow
   which is also today.
   The telephone rings
   and you say to me
   Hello Buckling this is Christopher; or
   Daddy it's Allegra; or
   Mr. Fuller this is the Telephone Company Business Office;
   and I say you are inaccurate.
   Because I knew you were going to call
   and furthermore I recognize
   that it is God who is "speaking."

   And you say
   aren't you being fantastic?
   And knowing you I say no.

   All organized religions of the past
   were inherently developed
   as beliefs and credits
   in "second hand" information.

   Therefore it will be an entirely new era
   when man finds himself confronted
   with direct experience
   with an obviously a priori
   intellectually anticipatory competence
   that has interordered
   all that he is discovering.

[No More Secondhand God]

Ideas and Integrities of Buckminster Fuller 1963; 318pp

How many of us live our lives never knowing what the purpose of them is supposed to be. When I was a kid life was simple: stay out trouble and out of my dad’s way—especially on weekends.

As I grew older, I didn’t need to stay out of my dad’s way anymore but most likely still had that pattern imprinted on the DNA of who I was becoming. For years I cleverly avoided ever making a real commitment to becoming anything more than what I was at that moment of realization.

And that’s making the assumption that becoming “something” is what life is really about. Or becoming “somebody”—I guess it is all about the same.

I will admit up front that I am from the “Father Knows Best” generation—a time when there was still a semblance of a plan for our collective lives. It was easy—you went to school until you graduated and then got a job, got married, had kids and when your kids had kids you became a grandparent who spoiled your kid’s kids.

Church was a big deal at that time in history and when you got out at precisely twelve o-clock you came back home and ate the pot roast your mother had put in the oven just before you left for Sunday school.

Kids still wanted to be police and firemen and doctors and soldiers when they grew up—as if the purpose of life was to figure out what you wanted to be and then plan for that. For me, that ideal was shot to smithereens in my freshman year in college when the professor told us that what ever we believed we knew about life was changing so fast that by the time we were ready to retire we would have had 10 or more jobs than our parents had had.

At some level I guess I really do know what the purpose of life is although if it was really at the forefront of my mind I probably wouldn’t be writing about it now.

I was what psychologists label a late bloomer in that I didn’t really come of age until I was twenty one or so. I even remember the day and the events surrounding it. I was a disc jockey at an AM (as opposed to FM) radio station and had just purchased a copy of the first “Whole Earth Catalog”. I would say it was the fall of 1979 and my life and how I looked at my future changed that day forever.

According to Wikipedia: The Whole Earth Catalog was a sizeable catalog published twice a year from 1968 to 1972, and occasionally thereafter, until 1998. Its purposes were to provide education and “access to tools” in order that the reader could “find his own inspiration, shape his own environment, and share his adventure with whoever is interested.”

After thumbing through it the first time I knew that I had just captured the ability to do and become anything that I desired in terms of understanding and knowledge—if not something substantive like a direction in life—which at the time lacked focus and motivation.

Not to make too much of the catalog but a real shift in thinking about my life took place at that moment—and in effect I matured almost overnight—going from a direction-less teen to a twenty something overnight.

Here is a picture of that first catalog.

<img src="/images/49366-44812/Wh_earth_69_cover.jpg” border=”0″ height=”504″ width=”368″>

But I digress. Surely the purpose of life is not about access to tools and finding inspiration and shaping our environment—although much of that will no doubt take place at some point in our journey.

The reason I began this blog was to explore the concept of “looking for the long ride” which had stayed with me for over 30 years since my days of hitch-hiking through Europe and the United States in the late sixties.

My purpose in doing this was to begin to unlock the me that was left behind in the rush to become who I never became—or something to that effect.

In the process my purpose in life changed many times. One of my first goals was to become a good husband and then a good father and a good provider—that was enough for those times. There was joy in the journey so to speak. I went on to become what I thought was a good Christian and a good friend to maybe one or two people. I worked a job and showed up on time or earlier everyday and did my best to earn a decent wage and add value to the companies I worked for.

All good reasons to get out of bed in the morning and look forward to vacations, kids marriages, retirement and beyond.

But as we grow and get older, what was once so very deep and meaningful seems, upon inspection and reflection, not as deep as when we began the very trip we find ourselves a passenger on today.

I know that I am not going to finish this thought tonight—but what I began to ponder earlier today as I drove home from work was this: the answer to the purpose of life is probably very simple in statement but difficult in application.

As stated in the Westminster short catechism of 1647

Question. 1. What is the chief end of man?

Answer. Man’s chief end is to glorify God, [a] and to enjoy him for ever. [b]

[a]. Ps. 86:9; Isa. 60:21; Rom. 11:36; I Cor. 6:20; 10:31; Rev. 4:11
[b]. Ps. 16:5-11; 144:15; Isa. 12:2; Luke 2:10; Phil. 4:4; Rev. 21:3-4

Until next time……

Lately I have been thinking about the difference between what is good poetry and what is great poetry. In the process, I couldn’t help but think about our lives and how each of us measure how successful we have been and what it really means to be successful in the first place—also how the feelings that surround our success or lack of can ebb and flow much like the tides at the beach.

Some days we can go boldly where no man has gone before and other days we hang around the back of the room waiting for someone to clue us into what is happening and where we are headed that day.

During my last trip to see my son and daughter in Raleigh, North Carolina, I picked up a couple of poetry books that looked very interesting and I’d had my eye on for some time. One was “Sailing Alone Around The Room” by Billy Collins, former poet Laureate of the United States from 2001-2003 and the other was “The Selected Poetry of Yehuda Amichai” an Israeli poet who wrote his poetry in the Hebrew language.

First of all, both of these men have a keen eye towards the world around them and both have a unique way of illustrating what they see. And while Billy Collins can be considered a successful poet, having sold many books and helped people see poetry from a different angle, Yahuda Amichai is what I would consider a great poet.

Why do I make such a statement and what does either of these men have to do with success in general and how we measure it for ourselves.

Let me try and explain.

When reading Collins poetry I am first and foremost struck by his ability to describe the world around him in a way that is somewhat unexpected and original. He has many thoughts that we might have passed by on our way to someplace else and has taken them into areas and avenues that help us begin to understand the world around us.

Amichai, on the other hand takes us literally into his reality and moves us beyond the visual to the visceral. When I read his verse I am taken to a place of understanding that unlocks all sorts of possibilities—in other words he opens me up to many layers of meaning whereas Collins is very apt at describing the surface and putting words together in a clever way.

Simply, a person might say that Collins, while very good at what he does, lacks the substance that Amichai has. They are both successful—one is a good poet and the other might be great. How history will view them overall is another matter that I know not of.

And lastly, this leads me to the main point.

What is success and what makes one a successful person?

I really don’t know for sure the exact answer or whether there is one.

What I do know is that if we take what our culture has to offer as an answer, not many of us would be on the high end of that grading curve. Not that we would be “sub-prime” if you get my drift, but that there are many people ahead of us and many people behind in this type of scenario.

Society values business achievement over just being a good mother or father for instance.

I remember several years ago I was allowed the opportunity to visit my father in California after he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Several weeks prior to my visit his four brothers had made the trip to his apartment and one of them had video taped several living room get-to-gethers.

Somehow I had received one of the tapes before I flew out for my visit. When I watched the tape, I heard one of his brothers ask about how I was doing. My dad said that as far as he knew I was doing fine but had never lived up to my potential. This meant to him that I had not gone on to become the president of General Motors or something even more significant to him.

When I was alone with him weeks later on his patio in Signal Hill, I told him that I had seen the video and that in my estimation I was a success. I told him that I had a great wife, family, job and church and that I considered myself a success even though he seemed somewhat unconvinced on the tape that I had seen.

In those minutes between us, he seemed to accept the fact of what I said and nothing more was mentioned about it. The generation my father belonged to didn’t do “deep conversations” and so we didn’t talk much about our feelings during that last visit. In other words you know that you have gone to far when whoever you are talking with looks away and begins to squirm in their chair a little bit.

I think in those final moments we had both achieved a measure of success, if not in monetary terms, at least in maturity and fulfillment.

I read in 1 Timothy 6:6 that: Godliness with contentment is great gain. And that is what I would like to have as the bedrock of my thinking about what success is and is not—it is not about having things but about a way of thinking and being that will protect us from any type of storm that might be on the horizon.

And yes—that is a very good long ride.