About Son of Man

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Thinking about life

I've been thinking about why life is great. Must be the season. How could you not be thrilled by life when you are contemplating the mystery of God become man? Wow, good times. Being off school has allowed me the time to listen to tons of music. Also, good times. There is a song by (the secular artist) Blackalicious called "Make You Feel That Way." The first time I heard the song, I was like, "word, uplifting song!" But when I think about Jesus, his incarnation, his sinless life, his substitutionary death, and resurrection, the Blackalicious song is just depressing. Let me explain why.

The whole song is about things that supposedly make the artist "feel that way."

The first words are, "up and early for the hope of a brand new day." Without Christ, I would be waking up every morning to a day hopelessly void of meaning. The rest of the verse talks about how great it feels getting a new hair cut, or seeing a old friend, or getting promoted, or finding a hundred dollar bill, or going on a great date.

The most depressing part of the verse is the part when he says, "Plan a long time finally a plan has made it/Time I feel I want to shout/man it's real that way/wanna think of things that make you feel that way." I think he's wrong. None of that stuff makes anything real.

Later in the song, he says, "said a pray that was sincere and you felt it work." Wrong. How can uttering words or thoughts into the sky about what you want change anything in reality. That might be the most depressing part of the song. False hope. Praying to a deity of your own creation does nothing.

The last verse is hopelessly unhelpful.

Bad day'll make you really notice ones that's good
And that'll make things a little better understood
Times a feel I wanna shout, man it's real that way
When I think of things that make you feel that way.

Live for the good days. And try to learn from the bad days. Is that the answer? Thank God, no.

We're singing this song (below) on Sunday. I'm glad. Here are words of life.

King of heaven now the Friend of sinners,
Humble servant in the Father's hands,
Filled with power and the Holy Spirit,
Filled with mercy for the broken man.
He walked my road and He felt my pain,
Joys and sorrows that I know so well;
Yet His righteous steps give me hope again -
I will follow my Immanuel!

Through the kisses of a friend's betrayal,
He was lifted on a cruel cross;
He was punished for a world's transgressions,
He was suffering to save the lost.
He fights for breath, He fights for me,
Loosing sinners from the claims of hell;
And with a shout our souls are free -
Death defeated by Immanuel!

Taken from From the Squalor of a Borrowed Stable by Stuart Townend

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Reasons to live

Here are some great reasons to live, if you are a pagan.

Dorothy Parker

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp;
Guns aren't lawful
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Jules and I were talking on Wednesday night about redeeming time. We both agreed that we never want to waste anytime that could otherwise be spent worshipping God. As clever as Dorothy's words are, I side more with my man GMH.

Pied Beauty
Gerard Manley Hopkins

Glory be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spáre, strange;
Whatever is fickle, frecklèd (who knows how?)
With swíft, slów; sweet, sóur; adázzle, dím;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is pást change:

Práise hím.

I'll live for all dappled things that remind me of God's strange and wonderful creativity and power.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Underground Music

There a lots of funny and stupid things out there. Who doesn't love to hate indie snobs. Five Iron Frenzy has said some things on stage and their albums that speak to the issue. While playing a popular Christian fesival the sax player said, "I know that we're playing the Main Stage now instead of the Punk Rock Stage. We know we're sellouts. We hope you still like us." Then they wrote a great song called "Handbook for the Sellout." Here are a few of the lyrics:

You found a way to draw a line,
between the world and you.
Faking your idenity it's true.
Did you think the word "alternative",
was only meant for the likes of you?
Do you think that they're too cool now?
Being popular is lame.
You're the one who made them popular,
all their songs are still the same.

You found them first,
it made you stand apart, you know?
But then everyone jumped on the same bandwagon,
making you an average Joe,
A lemming for the mediocre,
you were just a plain old joker status quo.
Blame it on the band now.
If you pick them do they bleed?
What's the point in playing what they want,
if you won't let them succed?

Do you remember where we all came from?
Do you remember what it's all about?
When you made a point to be objective,
before you started writing Handbook for the Sellout?

You sunk your worth in being different,
just to be like your own kind.
You traded in objectiveness,
for the underground you follow blind.
Aren't those some great lyrics. I always thought it was funny to hear fans sing along with the song on their live album, because essentially, the song is about them. I found this vid on Youtube. It is pretty great.

Monday, December 04, 2006

On Tickling

I recently had a few appointments with my massage therapist. A whole semester of carrying heavy bookbags and guitars and amps and speakers ect. caused some serious tension in the back. I have this problem. I am sorta ticklish. It's funny because it is not that I can't take the pain. When she starts to press the tight areas of my back, I can totally relax, despite the pain. When she works the glutes, it is a totally different story. It is really humiliating to start laughing right there on the table as she attempts to loosen up the hip areas via the glutes.

Why can I handle the pain but not the tickle? It's ridiculous. My dad says that I am too sensitive. I don't think that's it.