O Radiant Dawn

For December 21 (Solstice)

“O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light and Sun of justice,
shine on those lost in darknes -
come to enlighten us.”

O Root of Jesse

For December 19

“O Root of Jesse, Standard of the nations and of kings;
whom the whole world implores -
come and deliver us.”

At Last, it All Makes Sense!

I was just over at the Tom Waits website, and was reading this interview with him (instead of finishing my Greek homework for tomorrow).

Here’s what I saw:

Q: What is up with your ears?

A: I have an audio stigmatism where by I hear things wrong- I have audio illusions. I guess now they say ADD. I have a scrambler in my brain and it takes what is said and turns it into pig Latin and feeds it back to me.

That is exactly what is going on with my brain. At long last, I’m not alone in the world.

Cringeworthy

Jesus is a friend of mine.  I let him drink out of my soda bottle without wiping off the top.

Jesus is my friend.  He loaned me two dollars one time.

for potential use in the future

A reel

Decompress…

It’s been a long 5 weeks.  This past Thursday and Friday we took the last “regular season” Greek vocab & translations tests.  I did OK, but not as well as I could have, had I been able to motivate myself a little better.  Eh, water under the bridge.  The final is coming this week, and I’m not overly stressed about it.  I’m missing some of the nuances of translation, but I’ve got a whole year to work on nuanced translation and exegesis.  It’ll be good, but I’m a bit “over” Greek for the time being.

As a means of decompression (not to mention the added bonus of wearing out the hounds and getting a bit of exercise ourselves), we took the pooches down to the farmers’ market again this week.  It’s become a ritual, rain or shine, and I’m really enjoying it.  Back in Indy, there were a few markets here and there, and even though the quality was usually pretty good, it should have been much better in Cornopolis, and there should have been more of them.  Anyway, this one is right downtown in DBQ, and it’s good.  We got one bad melon there, but everything else has been dreamy.  Heirloom tomatoes, fresh sweet corn, wicked-fresh (Plymouth Rock!) eggs, and even sausages and bacon.  There’s good music there, too.

Took a couple of pics.

Mayflower smiling on the jungle gym

Hildy bustin' loose on the slide

I repeat: WTF

Don't know this band's name, but these gents were good.

another macgowan post

I never get over this song.  Sinead…mmmmmmm.

Where’ve you been all my life, Tom Waits?!

I’ve admired the concept of Tom Waits for a long time.  Loved his little cameo appearances in various films (esp. in Terry Gilliam’s incredible The Fisher King).  But I never really listened to Tom Waits or paid a whole lot of attention to him.  I think his voice – now a hint of Howlin’ Wolf, now a touch of Captain Beefheart – kind of kept me at bey.  But a few days ago, New Friend Mark lent me TW’s Mule Variations and I am HOOKED!

I’ve heard people refer to Waits as a brilliant theologian of sorts, but didn’t really believe it until now.  Here’s a wee sample.

Isaac Watts’ hymn “Condescension”

I’m posting this mainly as a mnemonic device for myself.  If it blesses other folks, so much the better.  Many thanks to Larissa, from whose site I cobbed the lyrics. (Can’t find your site again.  If I do, I’ll link back.  Sorry!)

How condescending and how kind

Was God’s eternal Son!

Our misery reached His heav’nly mind,

And pity brought Him down.

When Justice, by our sins provoked,

Drew forth its dreadful sword,

He gave His soul up to the stroke

Without a murm’ring word.

He sank beneath our heavy woes,

To raise us to His throne;

There’s ne’er a gift His hand bestows

But cost His heart a groan.

This was compassion like a God,

That when the Savior knew

The price of pardon was His blood,

His pity ne’er withdrew.

Now, though He reigns exalted high,

His love is still as great;

Well He remembers Calvary,

Nor let His saints forget.

Here we behold His bowels roll,

As kind as when He died;

And see the sorrows of His soul

Bleed through His wounded side.

Here we receive repeated seals

Of Jesus’ dying love:

Hard is the wretch that never feels

One soft affection move.

Here let our hearts begin to melt,

While we His death record,

And with our joy for pardoned guilt,

Mourn that we pierced the Lord.

-Issac Watts

Lucky are those who watch this video

I’m home sick today. It’s one of those situations where I’m ill enough not to go out, but not quite ill enough to sleep while the sun is shining. (I have this weird thing about sleeping during the day. Don’t ask me – ask Dr. Freud.)

The day away from work has afforded me a little time to goof about, looking up interesting websites. The one where I found this video is simply superb. Mark Meynell is an exceptionally talented writer. Oh, just go see for yourself. You won’t be disappointed.

Anyway, I found this video posted on Quarentia, took the half-hour to watch it and consider myself blessed. Lucky. Whichever. I’ve been dying to get my hands on Eugene Peterson’s Eat This Book, but never have the cash on hand when the opportunity arises.  Watching the video has only fanned the flames.  I hope you enjoy the interview with the very charming, quick-witted Dr. P. as much as I did.