December 29, 2011

Holiday Reading and Rime

During my little end-of-year sabbatical from the office, I have with some difficulty managed to largely put next year's uncertainties out of my mind. Uncertainty, only because in my field there is always uncertainty and questions of resources, funding and expectations. Yet other than an errand I have to run today that is directly work related, by and large it has been a nice little break.

I have even managed to indulge myself in some light reading - light in this case meaning relatively short works. Upon recommendation, I read an extended essay on Understanding American Exceptionalism. Because everybody should, I read Thomas Paine's Common Sense. And for sheer enjoyment, I re-read the Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

There are times I wish my work was more labor-oriented than it is. Doing what I do takes a great deal of cognitive energy that at the end of the day often leaves me mentally fatigued. This condition negatively affects my desire to read, especially those works that take some effort to understand. I grieve over this, because with the increasing unlikelihood that I'll ever go back for another degree, reading for the purpose of expanding my education is the only logical path I have. For me, continuing study is essential, as it is the only sure means to counter the inadequacy of whatever knowledge and wisdom I possess. Without study, I find that the wellspring from which I write easily goes dry.

This thought brings to mind two paragraphs I first read just before the holiday break, and have re-read several times over the last two weeks. From Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, "Approved Unto God":
If you cannot express yourself well on each of your beliefs, work and study until you can. If you don’t, other people may miss out on the blessings that come from knowing the truth. Strive to re-express a truth of God to yourself clearly and understandably, and God will use that same explanation when you share it with someone else. But you must be willing to go through God’s winepress where the grapes are crushed. You must struggle, experiment, and rehearse your words to express God’s truth clearly. Then the time will come when that very expression will become God’s wine of strength to someone else. But if you are not diligent and say, “I’m not going to study and struggle to express this truth in my own words; I’ll just borrow my words from someone else,” then the words will be of no value to you or to others. Try to state to yourself what you believe to be the absolute truth of God, and you will be allowing God the opportunity to pass it on through you to someone else.

Always make it a practice to stir your own mind thoroughly to think through what you have easily believed. Your position is not really yours until you make it yours through suffering and study. The author or speaker from whom you learn the most is not the one who teaches you something you didn’t know before, but the one who helps you take a truth with which you have quietly struggled, give it expression, and speak it clearly and boldly.
In its proper context, and even expanding the context, the second paragraph resonates with me. I can know a thing without really knowing, but I can't truly know that thing apart from the ownership that comes with the struggle or the striving. The lesson to be learned may even require suffering the consequences of a folly (Water, water every where, And all the boards did shrink;), until we recognize that so much of what we think we know does nothing to quench our deepest thirst (Water, water every where, Nor any drop to drink). But once learned, the lesson and the wisdom it bequeaths becomes our own, with the credibility and authority to speak it. All we need then is courage at the appointed time.

December 25, 2011

Venite Adoremus Dominum


"Do not be afraid ; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people ; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. (Luke 2:10-11)

Merry Christmas!

December 24, 2011

Last Minutes

Today is a day of last minutes. Last minute shopping. Last minute baking. Last minute wrapping. Last minute cleaning. Every year it seems, so many of us find ourselves utterly unprepared to savor the spirit of the season. How tempting it is to overcomplicate the simple, to fill every minute of every day with worries that rob us of peace, with activity that swallows whole the opportunity for contemplative respite. We have long since lost the art, the discipline of simply being still.

As night falls on this hallowed Christmas Eve, after the kids are off to bed and presents are safely tucked under the tree, when your last minute concerns are all laid to rest, carve out a few more last minutes to just be still, for as the song says, "'tis the eve of our Saviour's birth." A holy night, indeed. May we treat it as such, and find hope renewed in our weary hearts.



December 23, 2011

The Little Drummer Boy

I seem to be in a season that entails not exposition, but quiescence. So, with this post, I continue the musical thread.

I have been blessed throughout my life to have been exposed to a wide variety of music styles and musical artists, and depending on my mood, I enjoy most of them. A few I have had the fortune to see perform live on stage. One such opportunity came when I was a teenager in North Dakota. My mother took me into Grand Forks to see a performance by Roger Whittaker. I don't remember a great deal about the concert itself, although I do seem to recall that he used the platform to speak out against the poaching of the African elephant in Kenya. But I digress.

I have always been somewhat envious of those few baritones who have that full, rich sound that can both command the moment and soothe the listening ear. Whittaker and Bing Crosby readily come to mind. Indeed, Crosby has a famous rendition of the following holiday classic, but in honor of my mother who first exposed me to Roger Whittaker, here is The Little Drummer Boy.


Postscript: While distinctly non Christmas, The Last Farewell is always worth a listen.

December 19, 2011

Noel Nouvelet

I've been camping out on YouTube lately, searching the video archives for classical and traditional performances of various carols. I fear the slow decline of traditional worship attendance will sadly make 4-part choral performances less accessible to many, leaving exposure of such music to schools that can afford choir programs. Nevertheless, there is beautiful music out there to be found, to be heard and enjoyed.

Below is a lovely French carol, "Noel Nouvelet." In the English, we often hear it sung as "Sing We Now of Christmas." Performed in the original French, here is the King's College Choir of the University of Cambridge, England. Enjoy!

December 14, 2011

Il est né le divin enfant

Now that my year-plus project has finally come to a successful conclusion (well, for 2011 anyway), it is time to begin loosening the binds that have constricted and constrained my muse. While it may yet take some effort to unwind, I can't think of a better way to start than by simply enjoying the sounds of the season.

December 04, 2011

Still Here, Just Busy

We're in the midst of wrapping up a major project at work, one that is scheduled for final delivery in the next 10 days. Every bit of free time has been dominated by this activity, and unfortunately that may well continue until this is over in mid-December. So consuming is this, that there is a feeling of guilt every time I take a pause.

The push has made it hard to sleep soundly, and easy to miss the little joys of the coming Christmas season. I do get bits of it though, as I walk through the room while my boys practice piano, playing soft Christmas music. I carved out just enough time yesterday to get the tree set up for them to decorate today.

I'll head to church today, but then it will be back to work. As for the next blog post, well, I'll try to get back into it before Christmas. Fare thee well!