Sunday, November 15, 2009

We are raising Harry Potter

Corin thinks that every picture he sees is a thumbnail to a youtube video of the subject in action. He seriously doesn't know what the point of a still photograph is.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Knock knock

Corin's latest knock-knock joke:

"Knock knock!"

"Who's there?"

"Penguin!"

"Penguin who?"

"Octopus!"

Friday, November 13, 2009

Full sentences

Corin has just recently started putting together more complex thoughts. He just said to me:"Fork. Be right back," and then toddled off to the silverware drawer.

He used the fork for thirty seconds or so to stab an orange (I had once started peeling an orange with a tine of a nearby fork), and then decided he was finished. "Be back. Fork. Away."

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Stealth baby

Today at the zoo Corin was fascinated by the bronze sculptures of the otters. For some reason their noses were really large (much larger than the real otters, which were right there for comparison) and looked enough in shape like cow noses that Corin decided they were statues of cows (all other evidence to the contrary).

Then, just to prove that he didn't get the concept of sculptures either, he kept hiding behind a large pillar and jumping out at the bronze otters, yelling "Surprise, cows!"

Sunday, November 8, 2009

That's train-tastic!

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Corin visits the aquarium

Friday, November 6, 2009

Corin's halloween video

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Pep talk

These two quotes should probably be printed at the front of every Bible study and on every church bulletin, tucked into the pocket of every Christian, carved over the doors to every church, and burned into the memory of every believer. Pursuing a life in Christ is not about getting one's ducks in a row but a matter of continual reawakening:

From "Jesus: A Meditation on His Stories and His Relationships with Women," by Andrew Greeley:
"We must begin a search for understanding some of the stories of Jesus with the realization that he is deliberately elusive, mysterious, enigmatic, paradoxical. Hence we will never finish our search. We will never understand him. He is a man of surprises, appropriate for one who claims to witness a God of surprises. This, when we think we at last have figured him out, truly understand him, and can sign him up for our cause, we find that he has slipped away. ... The Jesus we have shaped to fit our ideas, our needs, our fears, may be a very interesting and special person, but he is no longer Jesus. ...

"Those who followed him in Palestine a couple of millennia ago were fascinated by his stories. They had heard most of them before, but he insisted on ending the stories with a disturbing twist, a disconcerting finale. ... His good news indeed sounded good, perhaps too good to be true, but it didn't fit the expectations of his followers, even the closest followers. It disturbed them.

"If he doesn't disturb us, then he's not Jesus."


From "The Sacredness of Questioning Everything," by David Dark:
"C.S. Lewis once observed that while many people use art, only a very few receive it. ... We only receive art when we let it call our own lives into question.

"If the words of Jesus of Nazareth, for instance, strike us as comfortable and perfectly in tune with our own confident common sense, our likes and dislikes, our budgets, and our actions toward strangers and foreigners, the receiving the words of Jesus is probably not what we're doing. We may quote a verse, put it in a PowerPoint presentation, or even intone it loudly with an emotional, choked-up quiver, but if it doesn't scandalize or bother us, challenging our already-made-up minds, we aren't really receiving it. ...

"If we aren't reaching toward a fresh understanding of the world through the questions we ask, we remain pretty well zombified in the cold comfort of a dead religiousity. Fresh questions and new acts of imagination are our primary means to encounter love and liveliness, to discover integrity and authenticity. Without them, we're pretty much done for."

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Joining the wolf pack

We are now proud owners of an annual zoo membership: Wolf Pack level, with full aquarium privileges.

It's only $180 a year, as opposed to $86.50 for one zoo trip and one aquarium trip per year for the three of us. We just need to go more than twice a year and we're rolling in savings!

That will take the pressure off to devote a whole day to a zoo visit to make it worthwhile, meaning we can just go for an hour whenever it's convenient for us. It's great to have a perfect afternoon activity without doing any planning or paying.

Enjoy what is sure to be the first of many zoo-visit videos:

Sunday, November 1, 2009

An insane generosity (part two)

What Paul MeantIn Andrew Greeley's book "Jesus: A Meditation on His Stories and His Relationships with Women," he unpacks the parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (which he titles "The Crazy Vintner," as it is the vineyard owner who the parable is fully about), in which men are hired to harvest grapes at various intervals throughout the day, as the owner returns to the marketplace again and again. At the end of the day, the vintner pays everyone the wage of a silver coin, the wage for a full day, no matter how long each person had worked, causing grousing among those who'd worked since sun-up.
"John Shea says that this is the most unpopular parable because people perceive it as being "not fair." Why did the loafers get paid for not working. It seems possible that Jesus was retelling a rabbinic story in which those who came at the eleventh hour worked so hard they earned a day's wage. ...

"They were startled, shocked, disturbed by Jesus' twist. Instead of the pious moral of the original story he portrayed the five o'clock crowd as more interested in how much they'd be paid than in doing any work. ... Such men deserved no more than a pittance.

"The protagonist of Jesus' story, however, did a terrible thing. He paid everyone the same. He paid everyone the same. Even the five o'clock slackers received the silver coin, much to the dismay of those who had worked the whole day. The farmer was not only unjust, he was off-the-wall crazy. This was God?

"The answer was, yes, this is God. The story was ... about a God who was so expansive, abundant, and loving in his generosity that humans who behaved with similar generosity people would think insane. ... It is much easier to deal with the odd economics of the parable than to deal with the image of a mad and perhaps madcap God. ... Yet Jesus believed and asked us to believe that the God of Isaiah has to be exorbitant in his abundance or he isn't God."
It's interesting to me that in a completely different book I was reading, about a completely different passage, I felt compelled to blog about the insane generosity of God. (Hence the 'part two' in the title for this one.)

It also just occurred to me that one of the movie reviews that I wrote that I submitted for our church's art journal is also about God's irrationality:
An icon can be counted on to act according to its nature. An icon can be counted on to follow the dictates of the script. That is why it is so important to understand God as more than an icon of love, truth, justice and beauty, more than just a measuring stick for all that is good and perfect. God is not reasonable, stable, easy to understand. God is a living being, capable of surprise, capable of performing the irrational act of incarnating himself as a human. It was not a just act; it was not dictated by his standards; it was not inevitable. The crux of the Gospel message is this: God loves human beings more than his own standards, and he put himself through death in order to break the hold those standards had on him.
Apparently, no matter how many times it strikes me that God is not a rational, sensible, fair, rule-adherent being, it's always a new revelation. It's just too ingrained in my mind that God is somehow the personification of all order and reason, logic and sense. The smartest people in our society are the dispassionate observers of phenomena and the constructors of theories that bring order to our thoughts and concepts of reality. So true reality must be clean, ordered, and sensible underneath, right? But no. Real love, for instance, is irrational. It is a little unhinged. It doesn't make sense. Maybe, just maybe, the really smart people in this world are those who love most. God, who is love, must be equally wild, passionate, abundant, lavish, playful, surprising, and intimate. I wish I could see that all the time.