The Record of Rhyme

Cleaning out your backpack at the end of the schoolyear is like excavating relics at an archaeological dig. Here we encounter the record of a year past, artifacts that clue us into a way of life now extinct, lost forever to the sands of time. Here we see the notes that remind us that, yes, we were just as human then as we are now. And here we discover fragments of that really cool pen that got destroyed by the crushing weight of textbooks.

But what I unearthed today was actually quite a find, at least for me: fragments of poetry that were written at various points throughout the year. I reproduce them here, merely so that I don’t have to preserve a bunch of wrinkled scraps of paper. Enjoy!

Meditations on a Fake Spring Day
How humble is a tree?
It sits making shade,
not asking what time it might
come to our aid.
…
How patient is a tree?
Not worried to find
a tree like itself,
whose colors can bind,
and jointly in vistas
show glory from God—
How patient is a tree?
More patient than me.
…
Lord, grant me the wisdom
implanted of old,
in the vein of each leaf,
the bark’s every fold.

Why we dream
Dreams will make on weak—
Salvation’s earned through life, not mind—
But if I know not what I seek,
How can I truly find?

7 Sacraments (still a work in progress)
I.
Guided by a Hand unknown,
Water made a path from strife;
Always caring for Your own,
Now you lead us to Your Life.
II.
Food made from the fruit of Cain,
Humble, now exalted, saves:
Feed us Love no man can feign,
Making heroes out of knaves.
III.
Catalogues of human vices
Plague our souls in human state;
Your Self-emptied sacrifices
Prove no sin can be too great.

Sky High

Shaun Groves has a wonderful song, "After the Music Fades," in which he declares, "I want to see from Your side of the sky." This line is a beautiful reminder for us to wake up and get moving. It gets right to the heart of perspective, and of everything we need to be.

It's tragically easy to get distracted in this life by the most insignificant things. Most of us spend the majority of our lives wrapped up in our own concerns, absorbed in the futile yet frequent ritual of worrying. And what do we worry about, typically? World hunger? Terrorism? The moral degeneration of western media? No—unless I'm a raving exception (and although I likely am raving, I don't believe I'm an exception), we're wasting our time thinking about unimportant, temporal things. I don't know about you, but I'm busy thinking about that paper I have to write, or that person that I want to meet for lunch, or any other of the many things I have to remember to do with the guy at the place. The point is, we're digging ourselves early graves, and here's the kicker—we don't have to be!

I remember being struck by a song in church earlier this year—unfortunately, the strike didn't really stick—that said "All around you, lives are broken, and Christ has no hands but yours!" I remember how surprised I was to hear such a seemingly pessimistic statement uttered in a church hymn. But on second glance, perhaps it is merely realistic. How many people do you know who are truly happy? I don't just mean they have what they want; I'm talking about true, consistent happiness, the kind of happiness that has transcended emotion and has become character, a scrappy, spirited happiness that is never down for long, and rarely gets down in the first place. How many like that are in your life? Maybe two or three? What does that say about the majority of people? In the midst of all the abundance of a country as prosperous as America, almost everyone you know is at least somewhat unhappy. That's tragic, and yet it's understandable. They're not unhappy for no reason. Their lives are broken. Life is so often filled with suffering. We don't talk about it much, because it's easier and less painful to keep it inside. But tragedy strikes in so many ways, every day. Happiness is a constant battle, and it is all too easy, and almost even understandable, to stop fighting for it, to extinguish the gleam of hope that glimmers in the eye of every hopeful soul.

And that's why those of us who have not been utterly ravaged by tragedy, as well as those who have been ravaged but have gotten up to fight on, must once again clarify our purpose and redouble our efforts. Lives are broken, and we need to fix them.

I know for a fact that I fell off the wagon this year. I lost perspective, and after getting so wrapped up in temporal ambitions and day-to-day goals, I found that, when perspective once again lit up the labyrinthine path of life, I had nearly forgotten this all-important mission, to repair the brokenness of the world through presence of mind, love of God, and love of neighbor. I know that I could have spared myself much unneeded and fruitless concern if I had only been mindful enough to remember that I'm not here to make friends, or to meet girls, or to eat my favorite foods. Although all of those things have their place at life's banquet table, the ultimate purpose for us here is to help one another meet God before it's all over, so that we don’t come to the end of this show and realize we never even talked to the Director.

That's why perspective is so important—it brings us back to the starting point, one might say the Origin, from which, for which, and through which we accomplish all good ends. My flash of enlightened perspective (for which I am still thanking God) was caused and is summed up by this excerpt from another church hymn, a versed adaptation of Isaiah 61:1 (which is also referenced in Luke 4:18):

The Spirit of the Lord is now upon me
To heal the broken heart and set the captives free
To open prison doors and make the blind to see
The Spirit of the Lord is now on me…

This, then, is our mission statement, for all those who truly believe. As Chris Rice says, "Go light your world!" It's up to you to make all things new. Remember to nurture that hopeful starlight that shines in your eyes, and one day it will once again meet its heavenly Source.

God Bless!

Joezilla

Battle Plans

I set out here to gain the world
And pleasure that it brings,
And I became a boyish man,
Doing boyish things.

I longed for lofty destiny,
Ambitions fit for kings,
And I was humbled as a fool,
Forced to ponder things.

I swore to Heaven then and there
I'd strive to earn my wings,
To sing with joy the song within
That true to this day rings.

I sent my forces out to fight,
Endured ensuing stings,
And then discovered how it felt
To live for higher things.

I strove for vict'ry not for Man,
But God, for Whom Man sings,
And I became a little boy,
Doing manly things.

Lost Confidence In Yourself?

It's when you sequester yourself from the people and things that tempt you to compromise your identity and principles that you are reminded of who you really are, what you really believe, and how your best self would act in any situation--thus in doing this, you become ready to face the world again.

If you ever feel unsure of your motivations, get away from the things that make you unsure. Then, when you have recovered your sanity, you are ready to go back into the world--but now you can trust in your own inner compass, and not second-guess your motivations for doing the right thing.

God bless!
Joezilla

Certain Glitters

“Aim at Heaven and you will get Earth thrown in. Aim at Earth and you get neither.”
—C.S. Lewis

The patient Father
Of this dust,
You’ve told the Truth
Since times of old;
And still I need
Your help to trust,
And lay down tin
In search of Gold.

Man Versus Nature

Human beings are hard to please. There's just no satisfying us. Even when we finally find some measure of satisfaction, it seems that we grow tired of it and start searching for new and novel ways of meeting our needs (actually, in most cases, our wants). This sad statute not only applies to physical and emotional desires, but spiritual aspirations, as well; try as we might, we can rarely maintain a good outlook on life if we resort to the same means all the time.

This is rather dismaying news, particularly for those of us enlisted in the War on Unhappiness. New meaning is brought to our struggle as we realize that every day promises another battle to maintain a right view of things. As the Newsboys sing in their song "Rescue,"

Caught in a spell that's overcast
You gain perspective, it doesn't last
All of the time in this life
Can't loose the ties that blind you
They're new every day, old as the Fall…
And I was born in the mess of it all…

As the Newsboys so eloquently point out in referencing the Fall, this seemingly eternal unsatisfaction might be a part of Original Sin. We are too self-centered to realize the blessings of the present moment, and so we choose to focus on what's missing. This doesn't seem like how humans were originally meant to operate, and it certainly doesn't become any warrior who charges against the camps of Unhappiness. Thus, we must reach a concrete conclusion about how we are to proceed: if we want to beat Unhappiness, we have to develop an attitude that counteracts our nature. This attitude has to be one of simplicity, perspective, and gratitude. Notice that some of our steadfast allies have returned—Perspective, which alerts us to the larger world we're a part of, and Gratitude, which sets us down the right path, away from selfishness, anger, and evil. Now Simplicity joins our ranks, as the medium through which we can experience life. The more complex our experience becomes, the more energy we expend in living. Weighed down by expectations and obligations, we are forced to respond to life, rather than live it creatively (in The Seven Habits, Stephen Covey calls this "Living Proactively"). The more baggage we carry around, the less energy we have to be happy. And being happy takes work. "Happiness," as Aristotle wisely observed in my high school agenda, "is a state of activity." G.K. Chesterton puts it even more profoundly in The Man Who Was Thursday:

Moderate strength is shown in violence, supreme strength in levity.

But where are we to find a guide for such an unnatural and difficult attitude? How can we possibly fight nature? Well, human nature can and must be fought at times, and this is one of them. Willpower is part of the answer. But the rest of the answer lies in a startling revelation—we can't do it alone. That's right. If we try to cultivate this attitude by solely our own efforts, we will fail after a short period of time. We need something more. Actually, we need Someone more.

Here is the beauty of Christianity, and the wisdom of Christ. Why did Jesus institute the Eucharist, and why are we told to receive it every week? Because we need it! Our frail natures cannot get by on their own. They need the nurturing hand of God to lead them back on course, the quiet confidence of Jesus to grant honesty and strength to their character, and the invigorating presence of the Spirit to spur them toward the selfless practice of cheerful compassion.

The Newsboys song we referenced earlier goes on to say this:

Then You rescued me, rescued me
Lord, with a touch of Your hand
Another captive freed again
Who else in Heaven could do this but You?
You rescued me, rescued me
Lord, with a love out of mind
Oh, You know I love it when
Everyday I am rescued again!

In short: what humanity lacks, God supplies. And so, victory in our current endeavor seems so much easier, so much more possible, than it did before. One might say we can even taste it, and one would be right, for that is exactly what we do every week at the altar.

An Amateur's Allegory

Imagine for a moment that you have never seen a day. You’ve seen many nights, and have grown up and lived your life under that starred navy, but you’ve never been blinded by light—there just isn’t that much to go around. You were raised to stay in well-lit areas, and to look to light as a guide. Roads and neighborhood paths are lit by lamps, as are the rooms of a house. The light is what keeps you from falling over everything, including yourself.

What kind of life might be lived in these circumstances? You can probably imagine the consequences of avoiding the light: bruises, broken bones, perhaps even a premature death. It is hard, though, to understand the purpose of following the light. In this strange scenario we have imagined, in which the sun has somehow hidden itself from the eyes of man, one wonders: why follow the light at all? We’re doomed to a life of darkness no matter what, so why not throw caution to the wind, and go where we wish, doing what we want, come what may?

Well, allow us to add one more detail to this scenario which answers all of our questions. Suppose that it is possible, if one follows the light throughout the whole dark passage of life, to reach daylight. Can you imagine what it might feel like, after a lifetime of fumbling through the darkest nights in pursuit of faintest lights, to turn the corner one day and see the billowing shades of purple on the horizon? Can you imagine the glory of that first sunrise, as the real source and model of our light rises to a crowning height in the heavens? Here is a reality that you could never have guessed at, but have reached by placing trust in what was told to you: follow the lights! Here, you would realize as you covered your eyes with an eternal sort of satisfaction, is what every one of those lights in my life pointed to. This is that greater reality which I knew, since gazing upon the lights of my youth, existed somewhere, invisible yet present. Even when the lights of the night burned dim and threatened to fade away, I know now that He was watching, He was there, and even then He was guiding me to Him, to here, to now, to this perfect place, beyond anything I could have fathomed.

Indeed, one can find glimmers of truth in the simplest aspects of creation. Remember to follow those lights in your life.