science fiction

he describes himself as an unfolding science fiction novella: a carbon matrix attains consciousness and discovers similar self-conscious apparatuses only to realize time is short - to stave off despair, he watches a movie about a film that realizes it's a film shortly before the closing credits

"What do you do if the film breaks?"

"I sit in the dark and wait."

he describes himself as an explorer of space and time; every interlude marked by the Earth's turning into and then away from the Sun relative to his position on the Earth's surface presents a series of cosmological problems he attempts reconciling with symbolic data couched in metaphor which he renders in visual allegories and diagrams

he describes himself as spontaneous, combustion, engine-uous - a modicum, a simulacrum, a cookie crumb unswept off the love seat at 3 am, the midnight movie "the drowning pool" nearing its conclusion after commercials for hair loss used unclaimed furniture used cars pocket fishers of men and plaza drugs - lethargy and depression chugging along in the cool dark hall with pile carpeting underfoot, the dog barks in its sleep

he describes himself as stopped on a random spot, moving among and over and through gaps in conversation held on the lawn that drinks before dinner 

he describes himself as wishing it was more, that something could be said that said something, that evasions to authority were more transparently vapid so as to lift off the earth like a fog - and what remained were a sensible sense

he describes himself as an unzipped soul

he describes himself as a blooper reel of apt bon mots

he describes himself as having spent too much time looking for gatekeepers and acting as one - or seeing the world as comprised of gate keeping functions - which is akin to the commodification of life - as if our worth were not intrinsic to ourselves

he describes himself as a fictive presence - an unreliable narrator in a world of unreliable narrators - as Job laments at one point "Oh that my words were written in a book!" - a statement the author uses to reify Job's position as character in a narrative

he describes himself as someone who uses "reify" when wants to use "ramify" 

he describes himself as an explorer of space and time, 54 years into the thread of a trail of a mystery

he describes ad nauseam

he describes himself in 35mm art house vignettes

he describes himself as living in stop-motion re-photographed retrograde progress

he describes himself as minerals in water solute braced within a carbon matrix facilitated by a pulse of capillary tension and movement, a conscious embodiment of space carved out by time - where consciousness sloughs off and re-encumbers embodied fractions with a magician's sleight of hand; nerves twined in gaps between symbols; bones tensed beneath muscles; speech wasting in lungs

he describes himself as occasionally drawn to the cheap thrills of schadenfreude

he describes himself repeatedly, ad nauseam, without remedy on an empty stage under the big top, sotto voce amplification [damplification], every eye bowed and every knee closed [that's an old one]. as red-eyed woolen and dappled

he describes himself as enjoying museums as much for the people as the artwork

he describes himself as exhausted, spent, eager to pause in silence in nature and re-glue, re-stitch, re-paint pieces into a near-whole

he describes himself looking

he describes himself as a vessel of grief grieving

sermon mdpc

NRS Matthew 10:40 - 42 "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet's reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous;

and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple -- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward."

Jesus is sending his disciples off on a mission. These words offer a blessing on whoever welcomes them. Specifically on whoever offers a cup of water in the name of one of them. The beginning verse - whoever welcomes you welcomes me - foreshadows a note of identification we'll hear repeated and developed more fully in Matthew 25. 

25:37-40 Reads: 

 Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink?

And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing?

And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?'

And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family,you did it to me.'

In a sense the disciples are being prepared to leave Jesus here in chapter 10 so that they may meet Jesus out in the world in chapter 25. In chapter 10 the emphasis is on how the world treats the disciples (will anyone give them some water along the way?) and in chapter 25 the question is on how the disciples will treat the world (will they recognize Jesus in these marginal figures of hungry thirsty ill  prisoners and strangers?). 

Here is a picture of the Church: having left Jesus we go into the world looking for him.  Karl Barth echoes this concept, emphasizing how the church is called to look outward - to move out into the world to meet Jesus. It is the only way for the church to live - to be on the road. Like the disciples on the Emmaus road or Paul on the road to Damascus - it's no coincidence that people encounter the risen lord as they walk through life. Early believers referred to themselves as "the Way".  A constant state of mission. When I read the New Testament, I see that this describes the way that Paul and James lived. It describes many Christians since: St Francis and Mother Theresa; Henri Nouwen and many others.  

Before there are buildings or hierarchies, before there are titles like bishop or deacon, there are people, in the midst of life, encountering Jesus. This is the message of Matthew - that we live and worship in a state of seeking Christ. We cannot take Christ's presence for granted. Once hierarchies are established and buildings built, titles and offices taken and responsibilities given, I wonder that we don't feel bracketed off in our faith. Mission is something specialists do - characteristically in places far away. A kind of passivity takes place. Worship becomes spectacle. Perhaps Christ becomes one thing among others. A means to an end. 

When this happens a confusion sets in. Our solution is to talk about faith, to tell about Jesus. I've been in places that are caught up in telling about Jesus - just the right terminology to describe the fascinating process of how an individual can be God and Man at once, with how the competing wills must operate. A great deal of Church history has been taken over with these discussions, tempers have flared, good men and women have been exiled or killed because they would not tell about Jesus in the prescribed way. This still goes on today. On TVs and in large auditoriums Jesus is told about. The beauty of telling about Jesus is that language offers control over the Jesus described. It's how the Jesus crucified by the Romans becomes the "friend" of the emperor, speaks for the state, endorses political disenfranchisement. 

This passage here in Matthew invites us to leave off telling about Jesus and commence with showing. There's an old adage about writing that commands "show, don't tell". We build a truer more vibrant story when we refrain from telling the reader how to feel or to interpret a story. Is the protagonist heroic or conflicted? As an author I'm not going to tell you. I trust you have within you the ability to understand human feeling.  You go to movie and the music tells you if danger lurks; on TV a laugh track tells you to that what was said was funny. You're invited to be passive, to accept the pre-packaged meaning and experience. The adrenaline rush masks the fact that you've not experienced much of anything. 

We are invited to show these little ones Jesus. The act of giving a cup of water - what is that? It's giving them what they need. We live in a world of unmet needs. How do we approach them? One way is hospitality. In an inhospitable world to practice hospitality. In the prominent verb of this passage to receive or welcome. Say Yes to the prophet; say Yes to the righteous person; and say Yes to this insignificant one. Are there better or worse prophets? better or worse righteous one? deserving or undeserving little ones? We are not asked to make that judgment. Jesus certainly doesn't make judgments about people - sometimes uncomfortably declining to judge. It takes courage to go with such a man. It takes courage of imagination to seek him among the unimpressive and socially invisible. Showing Jesus in enacting Jesus. 

I took an improvisational acting class 20 years ago and it changed my life. I'd thought of acting as pretending. Taking this class, doing those exercises, I was struck with this thought. I wasn't learning how to pretend; I was learning how to take action. The point of this acting was literally action. 

I think enacting Jesus in the world is like an improvisation. We're invited to say "Yes - and"; not " Yes - but". "Yes, but" is a judgment. a way to cut off and leave. Here's our prompt: you go a into place with thirsty people (very likely in the middle east) What do you do? Give them some water? Yes, And - the name of a disciple. Jesus sent me to give you this. It's the action of the body of Christ. How are we Christ's body? Alone, I'm not Christ's body - but when I'm with you and you - those people over there and those over there. We can come together and say Yes. This tiny passage offers us a brief sample - there are so many needs. Certainly we know what it is to have needs. To sit in a pew and hear someone tell us about Jesus and be hurting inside. To have a morning of sadness interrupted by someone wanting to tell us about Jesus. As if simply being told were antidote enough. Grief is too canny and resilient to be caught and salved with propositions and truisms. We need to, in Schleiermacher's words, step out beyond the limits of our own personalities and let the personal facts of others touch us. That is where fellowship, acting out being the body of Christ, happens.

I think we do this. I believe we have experiences as Christians where we've been taken out of ourselves and have met Jesus in the world. I want us to be clear, this is not the result of correct theological language. Not the result of telling people the right things. We must show Jesus. Engage our imaginations and say yes to the needs that meet us in the world. To be more intentional and less accidental about it. 

Acting seems daunting. We put ourselves out there into unscripted territory. Who knows what demands might be made - what failures we'll make. And we fear failure so badly. Karl Barth, talking about the church, says it's better to do something,however incompletely thought through, than to hide behind the supposed prudence of doing nothing. You know that's what we do. There are things we'd rather do than show Jesus.Comfortable things, Known quantities - won't make demands. Even the arguments and contentions are preferable to acting. 

I reflect in this passage in chapter 10 and its rich exposition in chapter 25 that Jesus is interested in developing a public theater group. He tells us what to do - not what to say. Use your imaginations; see what the needs are; act in love; don't judge.Say YesAnd - not YesBut. YesBut has that studied air of prudence - as Barth pointed out. 

Take courage. We don't act alone. God's spirit works in us. We are together in the body of Christ. In the creative life you do a lot of things - and some succeed and many fail. Don't obsess it. Keep moving straight ahead for the prize of the high calling of Jesus Christ.

I'm joining Alan and some others with Mercy Church at the coin laundry next week helping people get their laundry taken care of. Years ago I said yes to people in my church at Covington who were going to the Open Door on Ponce and giving families of prisoners rides to visit their spouses and siblings who were in prison in Hardwick. These are a couple of ways. There's no prewritten script - no committee approved document, shudder; merely a series of prompts we encounter that invite us to step out of ourselves and say Yes - not knowing where things might go. God gives us courage, imagination and faith. 

on her own

The grey cat sleeps next to me on the coffee table. She's mostly slept here all day, on the table, under the window looking out over the back yard. Looking out the window I can see the garden Jami planted: tomatoes, squash, collards, peppers. Now it is dark outside, that time of day when the only image in the window is the reflection of lighted space inside the house.

I haven't had a therapist in three years now. I speak with Nibs - who has some counseling skill. I wonder what it would be like to speak with someone new. Is there anything left to plumb? The unconscious is a factory of desire - says Deleuze. Certainly I've used the unconscious in my art ever since I was a teenager. My unconscious is what liberated me from my artist's block.

Freud, in his book on Jokes, says that we don't want to know what the unconscious has to say. Not so much scary as uncomfortable. We tend not to be closet monsters so much as very fallible people. It's hard to admit that we're less than we'd like to be. Some people seem to talk about how they're not good at anything - but they don't believe that. I've noticed that people that don't believe they're good at anything aren't very teachable. Not being good at something seems a good first step in learning. If I thought I was any good, I might resist learning. So there's my crazy logic. That's my logic.

Calvin talks about how becoming teachable was the beginning of his conversion. "Becoming teachable is the beginning of Salvation [healing]" - wouldn't that be quite the motto of our schools. Calvin, unfortunately, didn't remain teachable. His teachabilitiness was an interlude. How else to explain his authoritarian excesses in Geneva and with Servetus?

I am going through a great theological shift - great at least for me. After years of being centered in Reformed theology, I find myself more and more in agreement with Frederich Schleiermacher. Schleiermacher is the bugaboo of conservatives. In response to the enlightenment, he saw that the task of theology was not done - that orthodox theology might have made sense according to an old view of the cosmos, an old view of humanity, but that that old theology could not account for the reality of faith in the new age. 

I'm an immanent plain of feeling crossed by rivers of grief along alluvial valleys of desire

In the summer of 1978, just out of high school, before I went to Brevard, I composed a sketchbook. I called it "artmyth". I made my lines very slow. I followed a stream of consciousness technique - as I understood it. Whatever came into my head, in the order it came, I would write down on the page. I stayed up late at night, through Carson and into the old Tomorrow show. At the time I was influenced by reading Moorcock's Dancers at the End of Time; advertising in art deco and art nouveau designs; the surrealism of Duchamp. An odd mix but suited to my adolescent mind.

There's a whole lot more. Through the years this book has fallen in and out of favor with me. When I became a fundamentalist, a friend at the time told me I should burn it. Thank goodness I didn't do that. There's a lot here that still resonates with me: the stream of consciousness approach, the love of Duchamp, the influence of kitsch, the love of the nude. People ask me about my nudes. All I can do is refer them to Western and Eastern art, paleolithic art, contemporary advertising among other things. Making a human figure live on the page is what excites me about art. There are so many problems of space and motion that can only be resolved with a constant and obsessive approach to depicting the bodies we live in. I'll throw in some Freud Jung and Lacan as well. 

I make art and this is part of what I've done. After I finished this sketchbook, I did another one, and so on. Lines upon lines; images upon images. Maybe I'm locked up in my own world. This is how I live it, through library school, through divinity school, through working at web companies or military schools, through long periods of unemployment, mostly by myself until these last eight years with Jami. I am grateful for it all, especially that I didn't burn this.

views of Atlanta

Colony Square View

on MARTA near Georgia State

On MARTA near Georgia State

East Lake Station

On MARTA near King Memorial

Apartment View on Ponce across from the Fox

Towards the city on Ponce near Green's Liquor 

Views from Turner Fieod

On MARTA near Five Points station

Views from Peachtree Battle looking south towards the city

Views of and from Piedmont Park

buildings seen through fog while standing in the parking lot of first presbyterian

back to a view of piedmont park that was shifted out of sequence