Canticles of the Unhomed

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Kahlil Gibran

Since Shirley introduced me to this author, I have been devouring his writing. His book, "The Prophet," written in 1923 is brilliant. It combines startling profundity with the most achingly beautiful poetry I have ever read. Go and buy the book. The chapters are short, the book is small. Go and buy it and read it several, several times.

On Pain
And a woman spoke, saying, "Tell us of Pain."
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

:: written by Matt Thompson, 11:19 AM | link | 0 comments |

Evolution Derailed

I got into this thinking that growth equals joy. That seeing and feeling God work in your life brings you joy and peace. Why does this evolution, when we say that it is God in me, changing, transforming and remaking me, that it is the living Christ within me, animated by the quickening of the Holy Spirit, nonetheless feels like slow, plodding tedium for me? And yet I cannot say that I have no peace, that I left with nothing. I certainly feel some measure of peace in my soul, but it is not the crystalline peace of a soul at rest. It is not the peace that surpasseth all understanding. And yet, the quiet maelstrom in my soul is nonetheless stained, or tinted, or sprinkled, or daubed, or some appropriate adjective (maybe I should consult a communication grad student) with the subtle shades of a peace that I cannot properly understand. Maybe that's what it means to surpasseth all understanding. That being said, at the end of all things, as I stand in silence, there is hope, and in that place I am surrounded constantly by those that love me.

I challenge you who read this to thank God for those that love you.

Check out my buddy Joe's blog. It's on my link list.

:: written by Matt Thompson, 8:28 AM | link | 0 comments |

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Sweet Community

So I got together last night with a friend of mine who was feeling really crappy. We spent some time together, cried together, and then laughed together, and just hung out. I think it was a powerful time of ministry, even though the person was not a Christian, and not even really all that religious. HOwever, and this was a powerful lesson for me, I think the most meaningful thing I did was just listen to this person and held them. I think there is something significantly powerful about human touch; something no animal can replace. (sorry becky and all you animal lovers out there...) In all, this friend ended feeling much better, and I have to admit, I was ministered to as well.

:: written by Matt Thompson, 11:54 AM | link | 1 comments |

Friday, November 26, 2004

Oppression of a Different Kind

I feel some kind of need to support my buddy Jayson. (TO know what I am talking about check out www.jayson.ca, and the comments on his entry "What is a duvet?") However, I think I have done that, and anything else I say would just be a result of the instigator in me. And as I have said to Jay many times, I AM A MAN OF PEACE. ;)

And yet...

For some reason, when someone who means alot to me is attacked, I nonetheless feel the need to respond. Perhaps you can call it loyalty. That being said, I have been known to respond with less than compete restraint when I feel a loved one is threatened.

Is this is a good thing? Do these people NEED defending? Most of all, by the likes of me? And yet, these are my loved ones. The beloved of my heart. I would feel as though I am being less than a friend if I do not support them. After all, I think I would expect them to do the same for me. However, is that realistic?

The evolution continues.

:: written by Matt Thompson, 1:04 PM | link | 0 comments |

Thursday, November 25, 2004

Keeping Christ Out of Xmas (This is For You Jay)

My high school English teacher was one of my favorites. She wasn’t afraid of telling us her opinions. One of her opinions that stuck with me was that she really hated the word “Xmas.” She said that it removed Christ from Christmas, and allowed us, with impunity, to turn Christmas into a guiltfree materialistic orgy. As a young, foolish Christian at the time, I thought the sentiment was a worthy one, and I spread it to all my friends, who were also young, foolish Christians.

What I found out later was that the “X” in “Xmas” was not a letter representing an unknown variable, but alternatively had two possible explanations. It was either the Greek letter “chi,” the first letter in the Greek word Christos, which means Christ, or Saint Andrew’s Cross. According to church tradition, the apostle Andrew was crucified on a cross in the shape of an X on Christmas Day. Therefore, the X in Xmas was either a Greek letter representing Jesus Himself, or the shape of the cross one of His followers was crucified on. Supposedly. Stories differ. Or it could be just an abbreviation of a nineletter word.

Every Christmas we are inundated with pleas from Christians to “keep Christ in Christmas.” The implication, sometimes unspoken, mostly not, is that Christmas is a Christian holiday and that we are losing the significance of it. We are steadfastly called back from our feedings at the capitalistic trough to the Christchild in the manger, and croon outdated Christmas carols with poor theology.

The underlying assumption in all those “Christ in Christmas” sermons was that Christmas was a Christian holiday to begin with. Thus, I have concluded that Christ has no place in Christmas. Perhaps it was, at one time in the church’s past a Christian holiday. But it certainly never was in any North American Evangelical tradition. If you want to speak historically, the church’s celebration of the Christmas season was in the celebration of the Advent season. In most traditions it is a time of preparation, a time of fasting, prayer, penance, refinement and purification. It was a time of preparing for the coming of the Messiah. It was not an especially joyous time, except in the hopeful looking forward to the coming savior. It had nothing to do with carols, trees, presents and Anne Murray Christmas Specials.

In fact, many of our “Christian” traditions during Christmas come from completely pagan roots.

The date, December 25, was the date of a pagan Roman festival called Saturnalia, which was a Roman sun festival celebrated at Winter Solstice. Christian authorities, wanting to harness the celebratory energy and not have to try to curb it altogether, simply Christianized it. Most scholars agree that Christ was actually most probably born some time in September, a time when shepherds would have their flocks out in the fields at night, rather under cover.

Even Santa Claus, who ostensibly is the Anglicized Sinter Klaus, which is Dutch for Saint Nicholas, is nothing more than the combined visions of a American poet (the guy that wrote A Night Before Christmas) and the Coca Cola marketing department. (Who came up with the redsuited, whitebearded fat man image.) In reality, the St. Nicholas of history has little resemblance to the shopping mall Santa Claus, and how he became attached to the Christmas story is a mystery.

St. Nicholas was a bishop in Armenia in the 5th century AD. We can only blindly speculate as to whether this Nicholas is THE St. Nick, but the stories seem to fit. The story goes that Nicholas was present at the historic Council of Nicea in 425 AD, where the issue of the deity of Christ was being decided. Nicholas had heard that Arius, the main opponent of the doctrine, had been teaching his beliefs to children. When confronted with the rumor, Arius admitted to it. Nicholas responded to this by punching Arius in the mouth. He knocked out all of Arius’ front teeth and it took three other bishops to pull him off the heretic. I ask you does this sound like Santa Claus to you?

My point in all of this is to say that although the idea of Christmas, of having one day a year in which to remember the coming of our Savior is not bad, the reason for our celebration it is utterly arbitrary, and emphasizes the wrong thing. It would not be so bad if we made no pretension to a historicity that doesn’t exist.

I come back to the mainline celebration of Advent. Historically, the season of Advent was the four Sundays leading up to the Winter Solstice. As I said earlier, it was a time of purification and preparation. It culminated in the “Christ’s Mass,” from which we derive the word “Christmas.” This Christ’s Mass, held on the shortest day, came at a time when the days started to get longer. Christ’s Mass symbolized a return of the light. In the same way, it was looking forward to Christ’s imminent return. As well, it of course carried none of the trappings that now follow Christmas.

We have reversed it; celebrating Christ’s first coming, when historically Christians have used it to look forward to Jesus’ return. That is why Advent is a time of preparation, because the King is coming back.

The Christmas image should not be the Christ in the manger, but rather the swift and soon returning King. Christ never asked us to commemorate His birth. He did instruct us to celebrate His death and resurrection, and look forward to His soon return. Do not allow Christmas to be just about something anchored dead in the past. Rather, allow it to live in the present as we celebrate the swift and soon return of the King.

Seasons Greetings,
Matt

:: written by Matt Thompson, 3:02 PM | link | 1 comments |

Alexander... The Great?

Jeff and I saw the movie Alexander yesterday. I was not impressed. Sure, it was a big movie, but it was also LONG. Three hours. And only one real battle scene. And lots of rampant homosexuality. Sure, it may be historically accurate, but I don't have to enjoy watching it. I really wasn't expecting much from Colin Farrell, and he didn't disappoint. Mostly, though I thought it was boring and too long.

After that, I played Halo 2 for like four hours. Now there's a game.

Today I am spending with my buddy Adam, working on art for my book. He's really talented, so I am looking forward to seeing what he can come up with.

:: written by Matt Thompson, 2:44 PM | link | 2 comments |

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

The Joy of Consumption

So Jeff, Chuck and I just had an orgy of gluttony as we ate 10 cent wings and $9.00 jugs of draft at Wooly Bully's pub here in Edmonton. Every Wednesday, 10 cent wings. Awesome. Jeff ate 38, I ate 36 and Chuck ate 33. I am definately slowing down as I get older. But 10 cent wings. Wow. There is just something... spiritual about cheap wings with good buds.

So this week at Sol Cafe I am leading the discussion, and we are going to be talking about the practical role of the Holy Spirit in our lives. As I think about it, the more I realize that really, it is the Holy Spirit that does everything. When we pray, it is he that prays for us. When we seek the presence of Christ in our lives, it is he that gives us awareness of the presence of the living Christ within us.

Thoughts?

:: written by Matt Thompson, 7:29 PM | link | 1 comments |

The Elegance of Destruction

So my buddy Jeff and I were hanging out at West Edmonton Mall today. On a lark, we went into a shooting range that is in the mall. They had display cases full of guns, ranging from small .22 pistols all the way up to Uzis and huge .50 calibur hand cannons. As I looked at the gold-plated .50 Desert Eagles, the hand-balanced .48 magnums, and so on, I realized that these weapons had a strange, intrinsic beauty to them. As I continued to think about it, I realized that the beauty comes from the sense of danger and fear that these weapons carry. It is a powerful thing to hold a gun in your hand and know that you have the absolute power of life and death in the palm of your hand. These weapons give you the sense of absolute power with impunity. The ability to exercise your will (or whim) upon people with absolutely no consequence. I think all this speaks to a very dark place in our nature. You can tell a lot about someone from their concept of beauty. To think that we find these cold instruments of destruction beautiful is a blight on our collective soul. There is no way to hold a gun non-violently.

:: written by Matt Thompson, 5:09 PM | link | 0 comments |

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

The Evolution

Been in Saskatchewan for a couple of weeks, and now that I am back I find myself struggling to settle back into some kind of routine.

I was talking with my buddy Chuck today over spring rolls, and we were talking about the triteness of the whole "god-shaped hole" metaphor. However, the conclusion that we came to is that there is a "people-shaped hole" in our hearts. The more I think about it, the more I think we are all engineered to need people. It has long been my mantra that we experience God primarily through the community and our individual experience of God is only ancilliary to that. I think God has made us to be in relationship with people and to derive comfort, support and strength from other people. When I think about my primary relationships, I realize that I really depend on these people. Perhaps that's needy. But I am a needy man. The more I realize that I am a broken man, and an emotional wreck most of the time, the more I realize that it is OKAY to be needy. Of course, if you take anything too far it becomes unhealthy. But I think that the more we try to convince ourselves that we are not needy, that we are independent, that we don't rely on anyone for our happiness, the emptier our lives become.

When I think about this, I think about the humanity of Christ. Christ is a man - even now, today. That means he has a physical body with armpit hair and toenails. That also means he is subject to all that entails, apart from sin, of course. That means, he, as much as me or you, needs people. Consider the story of Mary and Martha. Jesus just comes from fighting with the religious leaders, and he is on his way to Jerusalem. Where does he go? He seeks out the company of the people that love him. Mary, Martha and Lazarus. These were his friends, people he would kick back and watch CSI with, people that loved him that he could just relax and be himself with. Martha, caught up in the practicalities of the moment, rushes around making drinks and getting the nachos in the oven. When she sees Mary just sitting there with Jesus, she gets ticked off and asks Jesus to tell her to get off her ass and help out. But what was Mary doing? We ave been taught that Mary was seeking after the imperishable, that she was sitting at the feet of Jesus, soaking in the wisdom. I think we had it backward. I think the reason that Jesus so honored Mary was that SHE was ministering to HIM. I can see it now. He's sitting in that house, watching Martha bustle about with tired eyes. What he's saying, is "listen, I'm spent, empty, tired, hungry, discouraged and afraid. More than anything I just need someone to sit with me, hold my hand and listen to me. That's what Mary is doing."

I wonder: should our worship/relationship with God then include some element that? Where we minister to Christ as one human to another? I can't abide the thought that Christ doesn't need people now because he has been resurrected, and possesses a perfect body and so on. He was just as human after the resurrection as he was before... he ate, he walked, he talked, etc. And moreover, how does this affect our relationships with others?

Just some ruminations as I continue my evolution.

:: written by Matt Thompson, 7:11 PM | link | 1 comments |

An Experiment

So here I am. I feel like such a bandwagon-jumper. All of you who read this that were present for my little diatribe in Alexander's that time will know what I'm talking about. Well, I guess I have a blog now. May the Lord have mercy upon my soul. :)

:: written by Matt Thompson, 2:44 PM | link | 4 comments |