6 years ago
Thursday, February 26, 2004
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
the passion of the christ
This is Ash Wednesday and tonight, for the first time in my life, I am going to attend an Ash Wednesday service. My church choir is singing for tonight's evening service and I have no doubt that we will be provided with ample opportunity to partake of the traditional imposition of the ashes.
I have to admit, I am a little nervous about this. One of my strongest memories associated with Ash Wednesday is seeing my junior high school French teacher on Ash Wednesday with the ashen cross on his forehead. He was Episcopalian. I remember thinking then, as I do now, that it seemed an awfully sad and despondent gesture, and one that I do not fully comprehend.
The basis of my religious understanding has always centered on grace and joy. Being raised Episcopalian in an progressive and -- dare I say it -- liberal family, my understanding of the miracle of my religion has always been that we don't have to worry or be sad or despondent any more because that is the gift Christ gave us. By his death, we are spared the horror of a life mired in unforgiven sin. This is not to say that we should not repent our sins; by all means, we still have to understand that human beings are imperfect and ask forgiveness for our most egregious misdeeds, yet I was always thought that the miracle of grace was that if you did ask, you would be forgiven.
Now, this is getting a bit more dogmatic than I had intended, but it serves my point. Not having been brought up in the "shock and awe" vein of Christianity, I have more than a little trouble with Christians who dwell on the horrors of Christ's Passion, rather than the miracle of his resurrection. Isn't the latter what the whole religion is supposed to be about? I understand the concept that Jesus the man was forced to suffer for our sakes, but isn't the greater lesson that he overcame that suffering through the Father, and that therefore so can we?
This whole train of thought has been sparked by the controversy surrounding Mel Gibson's movie, "The Passion of the Christ." I have not seen the film, so I am speaking strictly from secondhand knowledge, but from the reviews I have heard, I am saddened and disappointed at the direction the film seems to take.
From his previous movies like "Braveheart" and "The Patriot," I was hoping that the film's biggest flaw would be a sickly sweet heart-wrenching ending that would leave the audience with a Hallmark card uplift about Christianity and life in general. I hoped he was aiming at converting his countless audiences. My hopes were sadly misplaced. According to what I have read and heard, the film focuses mainly on the atrocities that Jesus the man was forced to suffer before his death in slasher-film style technicolor blood and gore. The entire last hour of the film is apparently dedicated to gory beatings and torture leading up to the crucifixion and death. Not one review I have seen has mentioned anything about what happens after his death.
The reviewer for NPR and the L.A. Times said that while the film is not intentionally anti-Semitic, it is nevertheless a divisive film, highlighting the differences between the major religions, rather than the things we can claim in common. This truly bothers me to my very core. I am eternally grateful for having been brought up in a family that, in more cases than not, taught me to have an open mind, an open heart, and a respect for all people regardless of their race, religion, sex, orientation, or any of the other divisive categories our culture has dreamed up. I find it morally and ethically upsetting when I am forced to realize that there are people, perhaps a majority, that for one reason or another, do not share my same philosophy.
Maybe it is the passion and naivete of youth that is the fuel for this rant, but I feel very strongly that the season of Lent that is begun today, Ash Wednesday, is a season more for reflection and thought than for torturous sadness. If you believe in Christian doctrine, Christ died for our sins. That isn't the miracle. Lots of people died back then. Lots of them were beaten and tortured and horribly executed by crucifixion for crimes that may or may not have been theirs. The miracle is that Christ conquered death. He rose. That's the point that we, as Christians, should dwell on, in my opinion.
I feel very sad for Mr. Gibson that his life's work, his vision -- and I truly believe that this film is a culmination of his own personal and professional ambitions conceived and executed in pure reverence to his subject -- has turned into such a controversial statement. And yet, I am even more sad that his vision did not include the most powerful aspect of the religion he and I share: the inclusive nature of our God and the fact that Jesus' sacrifice was for all people, not merely Christians.
The movie Chocolate is a lighthearted look at a local instance of religious exclusion, and at the end, the young priest is given his first chance to truly address his congregation with his own voice. He says something along the lines of this: "I believe our goodness should not be measured by what we deny, by what we give up, or by who we exclude, but by what we embrace, what we enjoy, and whom we include." That about sums it up for me.
I have to admit, I am a little nervous about this. One of my strongest memories associated with Ash Wednesday is seeing my junior high school French teacher on Ash Wednesday with the ashen cross on his forehead. He was Episcopalian. I remember thinking then, as I do now, that it seemed an awfully sad and despondent gesture, and one that I do not fully comprehend.
The basis of my religious understanding has always centered on grace and joy. Being raised Episcopalian in an progressive and -- dare I say it -- liberal family, my understanding of the miracle of my religion has always been that we don't have to worry or be sad or despondent any more because that is the gift Christ gave us. By his death, we are spared the horror of a life mired in unforgiven sin. This is not to say that we should not repent our sins; by all means, we still have to understand that human beings are imperfect and ask forgiveness for our most egregious misdeeds, yet I was always thought that the miracle of grace was that if you did ask, you would be forgiven.
Now, this is getting a bit more dogmatic than I had intended, but it serves my point. Not having been brought up in the "shock and awe" vein of Christianity, I have more than a little trouble with Christians who dwell on the horrors of Christ's Passion, rather than the miracle of his resurrection. Isn't the latter what the whole religion is supposed to be about? I understand the concept that Jesus the man was forced to suffer for our sakes, but isn't the greater lesson that he overcame that suffering through the Father, and that therefore so can we?
This whole train of thought has been sparked by the controversy surrounding Mel Gibson's movie, "The Passion of the Christ." I have not seen the film, so I am speaking strictly from secondhand knowledge, but from the reviews I have heard, I am saddened and disappointed at the direction the film seems to take.
From his previous movies like "Braveheart" and "The Patriot," I was hoping that the film's biggest flaw would be a sickly sweet heart-wrenching ending that would leave the audience with a Hallmark card uplift about Christianity and life in general. I hoped he was aiming at converting his countless audiences. My hopes were sadly misplaced. According to what I have read and heard, the film focuses mainly on the atrocities that Jesus the man was forced to suffer before his death in slasher-film style technicolor blood and gore. The entire last hour of the film is apparently dedicated to gory beatings and torture leading up to the crucifixion and death. Not one review I have seen has mentioned anything about what happens after his death.
The reviewer for NPR and the L.A. Times said that while the film is not intentionally anti-Semitic, it is nevertheless a divisive film, highlighting the differences between the major religions, rather than the things we can claim in common. This truly bothers me to my very core. I am eternally grateful for having been brought up in a family that, in more cases than not, taught me to have an open mind, an open heart, and a respect for all people regardless of their race, religion, sex, orientation, or any of the other divisive categories our culture has dreamed up. I find it morally and ethically upsetting when I am forced to realize that there are people, perhaps a majority, that for one reason or another, do not share my same philosophy.
Maybe it is the passion and naivete of youth that is the fuel for this rant, but I feel very strongly that the season of Lent that is begun today, Ash Wednesday, is a season more for reflection and thought than for torturous sadness. If you believe in Christian doctrine, Christ died for our sins. That isn't the miracle. Lots of people died back then. Lots of them were beaten and tortured and horribly executed by crucifixion for crimes that may or may not have been theirs. The miracle is that Christ conquered death. He rose. That's the point that we, as Christians, should dwell on, in my opinion.
I feel very sad for Mr. Gibson that his life's work, his vision -- and I truly believe that this film is a culmination of his own personal and professional ambitions conceived and executed in pure reverence to his subject -- has turned into such a controversial statement. And yet, I am even more sad that his vision did not include the most powerful aspect of the religion he and I share: the inclusive nature of our God and the fact that Jesus' sacrifice was for all people, not merely Christians.
The movie Chocolate is a lighthearted look at a local instance of religious exclusion, and at the end, the young priest is given his first chance to truly address his congregation with his own voice. He says something along the lines of this: "I believe our goodness should not be measured by what we deny, by what we give up, or by who we exclude, but by what we embrace, what we enjoy, and whom we include." That about sums it up for me.
Monday, February 23, 2004
I know this much is true
that I don't know anything.
People I once knew are gone
replaced by friendly faces
behind which are strangers looking at me with
familiar eyes.
When do friendships become
support groups and
when do you look to a support
group to find a friend?
What does it mean when a child
(who is now twenty something)
can't make friends?
Or won't. Or don't.
Just doesn't.
Just can't.
Who are these people she once knew?
Where have all the flowers gone?
Is it winter, and I forgot my coat?
Why does that one, long lost friend
still haunt her heart?
Anti-social? Not on purpose.
People I once knew are gone
replaced by friendly faces
behind which are strangers looking at me with
familiar eyes.
When do friendships become
support groups and
when do you look to a support
group to find a friend?
What does it mean when a child
(who is now twenty something)
can't make friends?
Or won't. Or don't.
Just doesn't.
Just can't.
Who are these people she once knew?
Where have all the flowers gone?
Is it winter, and I forgot my coat?
Why does that one, long lost friend
still haunt her heart?
Anti-social? Not on purpose.
Friday, February 20, 2004
french phrase of the day
Zappe, c'est nul!
Change channels, it sucks!
zapper -- to change channels
=)
Change channels, it sucks!
zapper -- to change channels
=)
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
meditation on rain
Rain. Hard and wet and feeling solid on your head and back and neck and shoulders. Pounding, drumming the red tile roofs and the asphalt and the adobe. First drops raising puffs of dust as the earth drinks them thirstily in. You can almost hear the slurp.
Dark clouds massing to the west. Over the ocean. Over the sea. Onshore flow, they call it. Starts with fog and haze and mist and gray. Then the gray turns solid and falls to the thirsty earth.
Earth moves. Mud slides. Water falls too fast, too much and the earth rejects it, even though she is parched. Mud and ash and wood and dirt and water. Newsman said to put out your sandbags. Watching that storm all the way from the city by the bay.
Roads are slick and mud is thick and people aren't used to rain in Southern California. Act like a few drops are a downpour. Like snow in Texas. "It snows in Texas?" "It rains in Southern California?"
March is the rainy season. Then comes June gloom. Hot and muggy and close with the clouds overhead. Never raining. Rains in March.
Dark clouds massing to the west. Over the ocean. Over the sea. Onshore flow, they call it. Starts with fog and haze and mist and gray. Then the gray turns solid and falls to the thirsty earth.
Earth moves. Mud slides. Water falls too fast, too much and the earth rejects it, even though she is parched. Mud and ash and wood and dirt and water. Newsman said to put out your sandbags. Watching that storm all the way from the city by the bay.
Roads are slick and mud is thick and people aren't used to rain in Southern California. Act like a few drops are a downpour. Like snow in Texas. "It snows in Texas?" "It rains in Southern California?"
March is the rainy season. Then comes June gloom. Hot and muggy and close with the clouds overhead. Never raining. Rains in March.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Monday, February 16, 2004
Daily write #1
I AM
I am lovely because I have nice eyes, red lips, soft hair, and big boobs.
I am luscious because I am curvy and soft.
I am lustrous when I am in love.
I am laconic when there is work to be done. But I am aware of it.
I am lazy because I have very little self discipline. But I want to change.
I am lethargic because I don’t exercise enough. But I have already started to change that.
I am limpid when I look at you with my big blue eyes.
I am lumpy because I have a lot of fat. But exercising (see above) will improve that.
I am lunatic when I get in a really bad mood or a really good mood.
I am loony because I have an odd sense of humor.
I am ludicrous because I am full of contradictions.
I am astute because I pay attention.
I am amiable because I don’t like confrontation.
I am awful to myself. That's just a fact.
I am angry because I feel like I can’t do certain things. Doing them anyway will improve that.
I am adroit at finding things wrong with myself. I need to work on finding things right with myself.
I am adept at finding reasons why I don’t live up to my own expectations. Probably because they are way too high.
I am afraid of not living up to other people’s expectations. See above.
I am agreeable because I am not so far left of center that I offend people.
I am awkward because I don’t have confidence in myself. Got to work on that one too.
I am apathetic to my own needs sometimes. Ditto.
I am cute when I am happy.
I am cuddly because I am soft.
I am comfortable because I am reaching a plateau in my life. Is that good?
I am crazy because I am wildly unpredictable.
I am crafty because I like to get my own way.
I am certain because I have come to understand some things.
I am cloudy on other things.
I am crappy when it comes to sticking with things that are hard. Hmmm...
I am creamy because I don’t get much sun.
I am clear on what I want, just not how to get there.
I am clandestine about my plans, and my sabotages. I will try to be more open and ask for help.
I am clever because I have intuition.
I am calm because I know things will change.
I am curious about everything.
I am young because I do not feel old.
I am youthful because I do not act old.
I am yellow because I am a coward. See "afraid" above.
For this exercise, I was to make a list of adjectives, beginning with each letter of my name. Then I was supposed to make "I am" statements about as many of them as possible. Then I was supposed to refute any negative statements with positive ones.
I am lovely because I have nice eyes, red lips, soft hair, and big boobs.
I am luscious because I am curvy and soft.
I am lustrous when I am in love.
I am laconic when there is work to be done. But I am aware of it.
I am lazy because I have very little self discipline. But I want to change.
I am lethargic because I don’t exercise enough. But I have already started to change that.
I am limpid when I look at you with my big blue eyes.
I am lumpy because I have a lot of fat. But exercising (see above) will improve that.
I am lunatic when I get in a really bad mood or a really good mood.
I am loony because I have an odd sense of humor.
I am ludicrous because I am full of contradictions.
I am astute because I pay attention.
I am amiable because I don’t like confrontation.
I am awful to myself. That's just a fact.
I am angry because I feel like I can’t do certain things. Doing them anyway will improve that.
I am adroit at finding things wrong with myself. I need to work on finding things right with myself.
I am adept at finding reasons why I don’t live up to my own expectations. Probably because they are way too high.
I am afraid of not living up to other people’s expectations. See above.
I am agreeable because I am not so far left of center that I offend people.
I am awkward because I don’t have confidence in myself. Got to work on that one too.
I am apathetic to my own needs sometimes. Ditto.
I am cute when I am happy.
I am cuddly because I am soft.
I am comfortable because I am reaching a plateau in my life. Is that good?
I am crazy because I am wildly unpredictable.
I am crafty because I like to get my own way.
I am certain because I have come to understand some things.
I am cloudy on other things.
I am crappy when it comes to sticking with things that are hard. Hmmm...
I am creamy because I don’t get much sun.
I am clear on what I want, just not how to get there.
I am clandestine about my plans, and my sabotages. I will try to be more open and ask for help.
I am clever because I have intuition.
I am calm because I know things will change.
I am curious about everything.
I am young because I do not feel old.
I am youthful because I do not act old.
I am yellow because I am a coward. See "afraid" above.
For this exercise, I was to make a list of adjectives, beginning with each letter of my name. Then I was supposed to make "I am" statements about as many of them as possible. Then I was supposed to refute any negative statements with positive ones.
Friday, February 13, 2004
Hummus is yummus
I made my very own hummus this morning and it is delish and oh-so easy if you have a food processor. Here is the recipe:
Ingredients
6 small wheat pita(s), cut into 6 wedges each
6 serving olive oil cooking spray, or enough to coat pitas
2 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp table salt
15 1/2 oz canned chickpeas, rinsed and drained
15 1/2 oz canned white beans, small, rinsed and drained
3 Tbsp tahini
2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 medium garlic clove(s), chopped
1 tsp Tobasco, or other hot sauce
Instructions
Preheat oven to 400ºF. Coat a large baking sheet with cooking spray.
Place pita wedges on baking sheet and lightly coat with cooking spray; sprinkle with cumin and salt. Bake until golden brown, about 8 to 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, to make hummus, combine remaining ingredients in a food processor and process until smooth. If you don't have a food processor, use a blender or mash the ingredients together with a fork. (Note: Add more hot sauce if you really like spice.)
Serve hummus with pita wedges on the side. Yields about 3 pita wedges and 2 tablespoons of hummus per serving.
You will probably need to add a good bit of salt (to taste) to the hummus. I also added one whole roasted red pepper (from a jar) and quite a lot of hot sauce. The pita chips are very good and you can season them any way you like, or not at all. This is a lower calorie version of hummus because of the white beans.
Ingredients
6 small wheat pita(s), cut into 6 wedges each
6 serving olive oil cooking spray, or enough to coat pitas
2 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp table salt
15 1/2 oz canned chickpeas, rinsed and drained
15 1/2 oz canned white beans, small, rinsed and drained
3 Tbsp tahini
2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 medium garlic clove(s), chopped
1 tsp Tobasco, or other hot sauce
Instructions
Preheat oven to 400ºF. Coat a large baking sheet with cooking spray.
Place pita wedges on baking sheet and lightly coat with cooking spray; sprinkle with cumin and salt. Bake until golden brown, about 8 to 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, to make hummus, combine remaining ingredients in a food processor and process until smooth. If you don't have a food processor, use a blender or mash the ingredients together with a fork. (Note: Add more hot sauce if you really like spice.)
Serve hummus with pita wedges on the side. Yields about 3 pita wedges and 2 tablespoons of hummus per serving.
You will probably need to add a good bit of salt (to taste) to the hummus. I also added one whole roasted red pepper (from a jar) and quite a lot of hot sauce. The pita chips are very good and you can season them any way you like, or not at all. This is a lower calorie version of hummus because of the white beans.
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