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Decompression week

It's a minimal week for work. "I want you to go into the office as little as possible," John told me a couple weeks back, so I'm gladly obeying. This morning it's Irwin's for coffee and bagel, reading and writing. Beautiful sunshine in my city today. It's a good day to be free.

John preached a positively kick-ass sermon yesterday. Not so much for style or flash, but simply for content. It was on Luke 2:1-20, the Christmas story retelling immortalized by Linus' recitation in A Charlie Brown Christmas (can you imagine such a thing being tolerated in a Christmas special today?). John took us through the concepts we all think we know (Savior, manger, Bethlehem, shepherds) and discussed their actual, contextual meanings. It was all new and surprising to me, and helped me to see Christmas and Jesus in a completely new way. You can listen here if you like; I really recommend it. I was stunned by the meaning of it all.

A woman just ordered a latté with four shots. Nothing like the sensation of your heart exploding in your chest to wake you up in the morning.

The earthquake/tsunami tragedy is on my mind and heart. So much death. I hate how casual so many of us (the privileged and unaffected) are in the face of such devastation. We might feel it for a bit, but we have the luxury of going back to our entertainment, our celebrities, our distractions. It makes compassion all the more glorious, and I don't want to minimize the good things that happen in the least. Even that, though, often takes the form of some kind of production in our culture, and often stops short of real sacrifice. I guess I'm just tired of all the other things we continually worship, and maybe I'm tired of my stuff most of all.

Comments

No accusation. This entry didn't start being about you (or anyone—just my thoughts), and that hasn't changed since your commenting on it. It's simply a belief that I think is garbage. I'm not accusing you of holding it; whether you do or not doesn't affect how I view it.

I agree with you that we are limited. But we reach beyond our locality constantly, in ways that please our sensibilities.