Bloggin the Dust off My Books

Joseph Sittler, "Essays on Nature and Grace", 1971

"The fundamental meaning of grace is the goodness and lovingkindness of God and the activity of this goodness in and toward his creation."

Sittler describes creation not as grace in itself, but as the theatre of grace. I believe this resonates with the hiddenness of God.

"God is made known to man in the matrix of space, time, and matter, which are the substance of that mortal theatre in which God deals with his people in their historical actuality."

Judging from his dates, Sittler was on the forefront of an expanded understanding of grace that is able to interact with and be a proclamation toward the expanded knowledge of humankind today. Sittler would have been impressed and amazed at the advancement of technology and science since 1971! Even in this little book he marveled at the fact that we have discovered both the bigness and smallness of creation.

After experiencing the sounds of Günter Bergmann's "Harmonice Mundi Iovis" where a musical mathematical representation of the orbits of four of Jupiter's moons is given (thank you Martin H.C. Spindler), it is less awkward for me to think about grace and the redeeming work of God in Christ as being something that is to be understood cosmically. Joseph Sittler tips his hat to the thinkers of the Orthodox tradition, and by expanding the reader's understanding of grace's subject he illuminates scripture that is familiar to many of us: "For he has made known to us in all wisdom and insight the mystery of his will, according to his purpose which he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth." (The Apostle Paul, Ephesians 1:9-10)

Turn, Turn to Come Round Right

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gain'd,
To bow and bend we shan't be asham'd,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come 'round right.
(Shaker. 1845, Elder Joseph Brackett)

Turning, turning to come ‘round right. What an interesting image. What happens when you turn, turn on the dance floor? Well first of all, you get dizzy! Then when you stop turning, you realize you haven’t covered much ground; you’ve covered the same ground over and over again. You’ve covered the same ground over and over again. But this is the image Elder Brackett uses to describe living life here, and then by extension, entering into God’s heavenly care.

One would assume that “coming round right”, especially when it comes to our relationship with a holy and loving God, would involve a straighter path! The Christian’s life is called a journey. We are supposed to start somewhere and end up somewhere else. It would be helpful if we could look over our shoulder and see the experiences, lessons learned, places and people we were in contact with back there.

But I think Brother Joseph had a point. His short musical confession here was born out of the experience of the holy in the daily things of life. Sounds like freedom, if you ask me! Tis the gift to be simple, tis the gift to be free. Round and round goes the rhythm of the day. We begin and we end with our need for a gracious God. We begin and we end with the presence of a gracious God. It’s a dance of little circles. It lasts for one’s whole life, and it is beautiful.

Easter Sunday happens this month. So does the darkness that leads up to it. Holy Week, for example, will have the Maundy Thursday service, and an ecumenical Good Friday service, which will recount the days in which Jesus turned toward the cross, toward also the sin of the world, and toward the only death that gives life to the world. Easter Sunday, it’s as if the circle opens for a brief time, now looking less like a circle and more like arms outstretched in praise. The circle forms again until the next resurrection.

Simplicity

Aah simplicity. The art of surrounding small, seemingly insignificant moments with thought, intention and passion. The art of delving into it, living in it, and being suspended above the time it takes to be there.

I'm sharing a video with you. It's been a while since I've played harmonica, but I really like the instrument, for the simplicity especially. I commend to you Sonny Boy Williamson.

When you watch this video, imagine yourself as the camera person! It is such good, simple stuff. Here we have a man playing harmonica, rhythm and singing. He does all this solo.

14-Year Journal

I have much to write to you, but I would rather not write with pen and ink; instead I hope to see you soon, and we will talk together face to face. (From Third John)

There’s a hardbound book that I’ve taken up again, nearly every morning for the past several weeks. It’s my journal. I jot down my thoughts, my memories of the previous day, my predictions and musings about what the near future might hold. I even complain to it in writing. Some prayers are recorded there. Some poems too. I’ve noticed “to-do” lists. I wonder how well I did in doing those to-do’s!

There are also huge gaps in time. In a few cases I had not written in my journal for more than a year. Do you think that I would write about the birth of my daughters? When I turn back to that time, I realize that I wrote in the days leading up, but not in the days following. I suppose I was busy with something else, like changing diapers or catching up with sleep.

This same journal has been written-in at some point over the span of 14 years. I started writing just as Dawn and I were married. It is truly amazing to look back to those earlier years, within the very same journal. Someday I will run out of pages and have to pick up with a new book. It will be a sad transition.

Why is journaling important to me? Well, aside from the benefit of being able to jog my memory as time passes, the real benefit is that I have a chance to clear my head, in a way to “commune” with my journal. In a way it is also a narrative of my faith.

When John was writing to a man named Gaius, he closed the very short letter with the words you see above. Look at these words closely. “I would rather not write with pen and ink; instead I hope to see you soon, and we will talk together face to face.” I believe that my journaling, which is a personal thing, has a way of drawing closer to myself those whom I love - family and friends, members of the congregation I serve. John wished to see Gaius, so that his letter could continue in face-to-face communication. What an interesting thought! Writing with speech rather than pen and ink.

My sister Mary has started a blog about journaling. I suppose this kind of thing runs in the family. If you’re interested in seeing it, and you have Internet access, check out

www.maryaalgaard.blogspot.com

Ammo

Did you know that when you are at the airport security and you try to send a harmonica through the machine, this raises all kinds of warnings? Amazing but true.

I learned that little lesson a few years ago when I was flying to the Midwest. The kind lady at the screening station told me that a harmonica looks suspiciously like a gun clip. Now that I look at it a certain way I guess it's true. Certainly depends on one's perspective, doesn't it?

When I watch the news, and especially when I listen to political rhetoric going back and forth in the media, I listen for fear bordering on panic. Once I tune my ears to hear those messages, I can hear them all over the place. I suppose an amount of the fear-tactics is warranted. This is not necessarily a safe world in which we live. That being said, I will still likely vote for candidates and proposals that I consider less involved with fear-tactics. I hope it's a good principle to live by. If it turns out to not be, I shudder to think what might happen ;0)

I have to pause and marvel at exactly WHAT is mistaken for a gun clip here. A harmonica of all things! I got into harmonica playing partly because of a love for the early Dylan music. Dylan considered Woody Guthrie to be one of his musical and ideological influences. Later in life, Guthrie was eyed with suspicion by his anti-communist government for his populist statements. I just like playing the harmonica from time to time. I also am very curious and interested in what made people like Guthrie "tick" when living in the midst of so much fear on a macro-level.

Music has a prophetic function. It definitely uncovers and even unseats deep-set ways of thinking. In that case, it really is ammo. In that case, a harmonica can cause more "damage" than a whole clip full of bullets.

For example, take a read of Woody's own song "Jesus Christ"

Jesus Christ was a man who wandered through the land,
A hard-workin' man and brave.
He said to the rich, "Give your money to the poor"
But they laid Jesus Christ in his grave...

In other words, the establishment doesn't own Jesus. These words have a possibility of enflaming some. Coming out of the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression, Guthrie's perspective was heavily influenced by the working-poor he met along the way.

The lady at security let me keep my harmonica. What was she thinking.

Reel to Reel, Spool to Spool

This old photo shows my great grandmother and my great uncle, having what I think is an evening of correspondence. They lived in Norway, in the area called Sokndal. The property is still in our family, and correspondence continues to this day, especially now that the Internet is at our fingertips!

My grandpa came to America in 1921. His connection to the family "back home" remained strong throughout his life, however. My father remembers grandpa sitting at the kitchen table every Sunday afternoon, writing letters to his family in Norway. I am almost certain there were gifts of money sent along with many of those letters, since it was a very meager living they made during those years.

Grandpa was also a lover of gadgets, especially the kind that connected people. He had a home movie camera. If I'm not mistaken, he was filming his family as early as 1935 with that machine. He eventually decided he wasn't made for farming, apprenticed as a photographer, later to open a studio in town. He drove the sixteen miles every day, to and from the studio.

He also bought a few reel-to-reel tape recorders. Uncle Karl is sitting in front of their machine in this photo. Grandpa kept one for himself and (I believe) brought one to Norway for his parents to have and use. So those letters soon became audio-letters, spools of audio tape sent back and forth across the Atlantic from America to Norway. Grandpa would record on one side of the tape, and the family in Norway would receive the tape, listen, and record on the other side.

We still have many of those tapes. My Dad arranged for several of them to be transferred digitally to cd's. They had a long-awaited trip to Norway this summer, along with a few other family members, and they brought these recordings along as gifts to their relatives.

I believe I have an expanded understanding of myself when I look back to the details of my family, of those who came before me. I also believe there is inherently a desire in a family system to maintain some kind of connection, to be able to use the others in the family as support, as resources throughout life. My grandpa's family could have so easily been torn apart by the common story of emigration. There were eight children born to my great grandparents. Four of them eventually came to North America. One died in China while serving as a Christian missionary, but he too was rumored to have wanted to make his way to the new world. That left only three children to stay home.

But this extraordinary effort to maintain connections has born fruit for me and for many in my family! I have a long list of second cousins, all of whom are interested in who I am and what kind of life I lead. I tell you, the interest is mutual. There's a certain kind of love there, which nurtures some kind of peace in me.

Gaining a New Perspective

Our household has nine persons. Five of them actually eat food and participate in animated family life. That leaves four short members of the family: Kerstin, Elizabeth, Emily and Chrissa. They never soil their clothes, do not ask for seconds, and don't add anything to our toilet paper budget. They are American Girl dolls.

Have you heard of this phenom? American Girl dolls fetch about $90, and then they belong to the upper crust of toys. In fact, it doesn't seem quite right to call them toys. American Girl dolls are more like companions. They travel (not taking much space) with us on long trips. They have a miniature closet full of outfits for any occasion.

Each girl owns two dolls. They received their first ones as gifts from mom and dad. Their second dolls were purchased by themselves! We're proud of that fact as mom and dad.

Kerstin has a problem. She is dealing with unnatural hair loss. She has been brushed and brushed and brushed, sometimes not so carefully. Now it's time for a new perspective. She will soon be sent by postal service down to California to the American Girl Doll hospital and receive a new head. She is having a head transplant! Guess who's paying the price for that seemingly delicate surgery? My oldest daughter!

Hmm, Kerstin's body is getting a new head. A new way to see the world. If only such a radical change were possible for humans. It's true that something heard, something experienced, something felt will give us quite a different lease on life, a new perspective. It is possible to have such a new way of seeing things, that the old way is history.