My Messiah

I watched/listened to the inauguration yesterday, impressive in many ways. It has been encouraging to see the nation unite behind a multi-racial man; truly we have come a long way.

I have, however, been simultaneously disturbed at the messiah-like worship I hear coming from so many different people. I don't know that Obama himself is encouraging this- all I know is that humans want a king. We always want a king.

Obama may make a good- even a great- president. I don't know yet, and truthfully none of us will know for another 20 or 30 years. History takes awhile to make those kind of decisions. But I do know that he is not my messiah.

My messiah doesn't promise material prosperity. He seems to rather not give a damn about it, actually, and allows many of his supporters to live in abject poverty. He does, however, guarantee that 'it is well with my soul'.  And for those of us who do have material goods? It is our obligation to share. (Spread the wealth?)

My messiah's health care plan includes whatever disease necessary to keep me humble and obedient. Oh, crap, what am I going to come down with next?!

My messiah's education reform only seems to fund the School of Sorrow. 

My messiah says that earthly change is an illusion. What has been, will be again. There is nothing new under the sun. True change originates from the Holy Spirit.

My messiah's retirement plan is His eternal presence.  Until then, we work like dogs.

My messiah has one job for us all- to spread the gospel and glorify Him. Ok, two jobs. No, three jobs... my messiah has three jobs for us all: oh, nevermind.  Well, many of his faithful followers dig ditches or depend on miracles.  What about creating some jobs here, God??

And above all, my messiah is not a politician. Never cared what the people thought. And never made promises he is not able to keep. 

sensucht

Sensucht is the German word that C.S. Lewis used to describe joy- not lasting happiness, as some people define joy, but rather the deep longing for something beyond ourselves... that often fleeting, melancholy awareness of the supernatural. That brief knowledge that our temporary problems and occupations are shadow realities; they only mimic and distract from the vast reality that is all around us, greater and deeper and truer than we can comprehend.

The smallest things can pierce our heart with this kind of joy, and they are usually different with each person. For C.S. Lewis, the Nordic mythologies were a great source of joy. For myself, it is often the clear night sky, with a bit of crescent moon hanging in it amidst the scattering of stars. Sometimes it is a song- Pink Floyd, oddly enough, and Starflyer- or even a certain word or phrase. It is the most wonderful of feelings, the presence of God that can shake through me at the oddest moments from the oddest sources... and it leaves me longing for more, longing for the day when joy is all I know.

diversity?

Me and some of the youth group girls went to see Twilight last night. You know, the teen flick based on the teen vampire fantasy book of the same name. It was a teen flick. That's all I'm going to say about that. Yes, it stuck pretty close to the book, so...

One thing struck me, though, as I watched the fictional characters run around the small Northwestern town of Forks. They were an amazingly diverse group of people. Asians, blacks, whites, and of course native americans (which actually makes sense) mingled freely and comfortably. But what was equally amazing is that apparently, everyone- literally EVERYONE- in the town was also skinny. I was impressed. I didn't think Americans looked like that. I thought, you know, we were a bit more diverse in the waistline.

And we wonder why two-thirds of college girls suffer from eating disorders...

my song

Gonna tell you a little story

'Bout what happened last year

Living all nice and happy

In Skinker-Debaliviere

Bought us an old house

Deep down in the city

Didn't have no back wall

And it sho wasn't pretty

Got the bank to give us money

Make the place real fine

Now we ain't got no mo social life

Cuz we're working all the time

Rehabbing blues

Rehabbing blues

Got the re- re- re- re-

Rehabbing blues

Work hard all day

Just to get a door hung

Gotta tear it out the next day

Cuz the wall ain't plumb

Rehabbing blues....

Maybe in twenty years

My blues will be cured

My house will be as snazzy

As anything in the 'burbs

Rehabbing blues...

favorite places to eat in St. Louis

an imperfect and arbitrary list...

• Guido's (on the Hill)
• Saleem's (in the Loop)
• Gyro House (ditto)
• Thai Gai Yong Cafe (ditto, though unsure of the spelling)
• Venice Cafe (Benton Park)
• Chimichanga's (not quite So. Grand)
• Crown Candy (my neighborhood, the hood, Old North St. Louis)
• Chocolate Bar (Lafeyette Square. Technically, we go there for drinks, but when you can have a chocolate martini, who really needs dinner?!)
• McGurks (Soulard)
• Empress Express (downtown. Cheap Chinese at its best)
• Uncle Bills (So. City location. Diner/breakfast food with bona fide diner waitresses)
• Banh Mi Bobba Tea and Creperie, and also St. Louis Bubble Tea (tapioca balls in your slushie drink? Woof, yes. Plus the food and the atmosphere are top notch, assuming you like unique Asian experiences like loud TV's and lots of Chinese-speaking)

my cute kids

... at an interesting park in South City and at the Botanical Gardens with some amazing mosaic art...

Leftover biscuits and sausage gravy

With some cheesy eggs mixed in.

Oh, yeah.