The Gospel of Bono

In all the talk about how Bono may not be able to play the guitar again, the media has (shocker!) been missing all he says about Christmas. It's a pretty good way to start off the year.

At this time of year some people are reminded of the poetic as well as the historic truth that is the birth of Jesus. The Christmas story has a crazy good plot with an even crazier premise - the idea goes, if there is a force of love and logic behind the universe, then how amazing would it be if that incomprehensible power chose to express itself as a child born in shit and straw poverty.... 

But back to the Christmas story that still brings me to my knees - which is a good place for me lest I harm myself or others. Christmas is not a time for me to overthink about this child, so vulnerable, who would grow so strong... to teach us all how vulnerability is the route to strength and, by example, show us how to love and serve. 

To me this is not a fairy tale but a challenge. I preach what I need to hear... 

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Canon Andrew White - “Vicar of Baghdad"

Earlier this month, in a post on Eric Metaxas, I highlighted his interview with Canon Andrew White, vicar of the only Anglican church left in Baghdad. After watching that, I sought out a few documentaries, which I link to below, illustrating Andrew's work.

The Canon is quite a colorful figure, a 6'3" priest often sporting a bright bow-tie, but besides his ebullient personality, these videos also display his incredible courage and tenacity, living in what is effectively a war-zone.

The videos don't focus only on Andrew - but the sufferings of the church in Iraq. If I could summarize the message in one word: perspective.

In the first two parts of this documentary, we see the church and the sufferings of the people in Baghdad's most dangerous areas.

The Lost Art of Lament - Boston, Texas, and Gosnell

The trench is dug within our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters
Torn apart
 

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

How long...

How long must we sing this song?

How long, how long... 

~U2, Sunday,Bloody Sunday

We all know what it feels like to be homesick. The many months in a foreign land, the unfamiliar sounds of a different country. After the hours on the road, you drag yourself indoors, ready for the weariness and discomfort to cease, ready to embrace that unconditional lover: the couch. 

But sometimes, there are problems that have no solution. Ever had a dream in your head? Perfect and untouched, the idea for a poem, or a book, or a piece of art? But when you take up the pen, the words cannot describe it. You know exactly what you’re talking about, but everything you try feels wrong, a futile attempt to describe a greater truth. You throw language at an object, but nothing captures the essence of it. The painting is just a scrawled crayon glimpse of an uncapturable vision. Sometimes, we feel a hunger that nothing satisfies.