Thursday, July 10, 2014

Mystery


Mystery

Hidden things.

Joseph dreamed amazing dreams of a destiny too fantastic to believe.
Daniel used an uncanny gift to interpret the symbols of Kings' dreams; uncanny in his ability to interpret not just the dream but the dreamer.  

We're not comfortable with the unknowable, are we Linus?

Campy 1960's B-budget sci-fi flicks.  They tell on us.  At each new level of technological advancement and scientific breakthrough, we puff out our chests.  We think far too highly of our grasp of the universe and the macroverse and the microverse... In black and white, arrogant scientists in stylish suits makes boasts and blah blah blah in lecture hall style oration some developing theory now mocked among advanced scholarship.

But at the time...

I mean, it's science.

Theories.  Hypotheses.  Educated guesses.
Educated guesses never get it wrong, do they?

We're not comfortable with the unknowable.  
What we don't know, we just make up as we go.

Call it an educated guess.

I'm not mocking science.  I love science.  
I'm mocking me.  
Us.

As a philosopher and a theologian there is an uncomfortable proximity to mystery.

In dreams

In prophetic statements

In parables

we grope for the meaning of 

life
faith
suffering

wrestling with our own angels on the other side of the Jabbok; contending with the mysterious
to grasp with an iron grip

the revelation of God's present and future activity;

present and future purpose;

plans

Something in our hands we can't explain
like the way God is saving us, even now.

Afraid of what we don't understand many are afraid to open their hands.

Grace is terrifying.

Why I need God's grace is creepy-crawly.
Am I really that guy?  Deep down in the dark basement of my soul is the creeper capable of anything.
I don't claim him on my taxes but I know he's there.

Why God would gift grace to me is terrifying.
Unconditional love is always awkward.
Unexpected.
Strange.

What is God up to?
What will God do next?
What did God just put into my hands?  

Grace?

Best thing we can do, Linus, is pass it along.

Fast as we can.







But let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I’ll probably never fully understand. We’re not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed. You hear a blast to end all blasts from a trumpet,and in the time that you look up and blink your eyes—it’s over. On signal from that trumpet from heaven, the dead will be up and out of their graves, beyond the reach of death, never to die again. At the same moment and in the same way, we’ll all be changed. In the resurrection scheme of things, this has to happen: everything perishable taken off the shelvesand replaced by the imperishable, this mortal replaced by the immortal. Then the saying will come true: Death swallowed by triumphant Life! Who got the last word, oh, Death? Oh, Death, who’s afraid ofyou now? It was sin that made death so frighteningand law-code guilt that gave sin its leverage, its destructive power. But now in a single victorious stroke of Life, all three—sin, guilt, death—are gone, the gift of our Master, Jesus Christ. 
Thank God! 
~ 1 Corinthians 15:51-57, The Message

Friday, May 30, 2014

Linus and Levar Burton

Levar Burton made reading fun but Linus made reading cool.

The patron saint of nerdy intellectualism, Linus can take the most excruciating human event, like say, a crush's devastating rejection, and put it behind plexiglass for objective observation!
Having raised $2 million dollars to bring Reading Rainbow back to production is its own story. But knowing that Burton raised the first million in only 11 hours reveals a cultural hunger that is for more than just an effort to excite children to read.  This is the power of story.  Burton lifted words from the page and brought them to life.  Reading was merely the skill that, if mastered, opened a multiverse of imagination and interpretation.  
No one else captured this with the ease and brilliance of Reading Rainbow.  Burton hosted each episode with a passion contagious with wonder.  We caught it.   

Face it.  Books are as close as we may ever get to reading one another's minds.  Fact is, books really are Telepathy.  Those written words transport someone else's passion across not just geography, but the distance of years, culture, politics and economics. Is it possible to see life through the eyes of a blind woman? The art of text mixed with the power of story takes us there when someone like Helen Keller practices the courage to write.  Without the reader, however, the experience is lost forever. 

This is where Linus comes in.  He is the patron saint of the avid reader whose thirst for knowledge and understanding is insatiable.  While others flaunt biceps, pecs and lats, Linus flexes his vocabulary, command of grammar and reading comprehension.  Telepathically, books translate our collective stories as we experience the farthest reaches of the territories called When and Where and How and Why.

Just when we think we have gone as far as we can go, another hungry caterpillar metamorphs before our eyes; another insistent mouse teaches us that cookies come to the persistent.  


Just when our library card is ready to expire and our lethargic minds are ready to let it go... another story stretches aglow across the horizons of a book's binding.  Each word is another step down a road not seen before; paved but not without danger; a path cleverly cleared yet not without mysteries. 
  
"Let's take a look. 
It's in a book.
A reading rainbow."

















Jean Schulz's Blog: Comics and Reading (2013)
Reading Rainbow App for Kindle
Reading Rainbow App for iPad