Welcome to the month of love. It’s a good thing because everything else about February is pretty icky. I remember living in New England where February was wet and cold. Snow was slushy, skies were always gray, but then you’d pass by a flower shop and from then on you would be seeing red. Ah yes, we need this. Welcome to the month of love.
How do you want to go out, with a bang or a whimper? Do you want to rust away from lack of use or blaze out like a comet across the sky? What are we here for? To create a comfortable existence or to serve the Lord and our fellow man and woman? Stop thinking of your life as a continuum with an arc of effectiveness with diminishing returns at the end. Stop making excuses for your lack of momentum and decreasing energy. Stop thinking that you might be done. We are never done until we’re dead.
The Lord had said to Abram [his name was later changed to Abraham], “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.” Genesis 12:1
Abraham was a pioneer. He was told to pack up all his belongings and take off, although he was not told where: “…to a land I will show you.” I think that’s pretty much par for the course for pioneers. Pioneers don’t know where they are going; they just go. They have a general direction (“go west young man”), but nothing specific.
Covered wagon breakdowns? Rough terrain? Blinding snow storms? Robberies? Indian attacks? Is that what we’re talking about in the twenty-first century? No, but we are talking about venturing into the unknown against the odds of our culture like a rapidly changing technology, a polarized society, generation gaps, racial hatred, war, class distinctions, homelessness, postmodernism, suicide, school shootings, climate change, gender dysphoria, dwindling resources, retribution versus healing … no wonder why so many of the younger generation are checking out and older people are becoming one with their La-Z-Boy recliners, waiting out the end.
So here I am, fiddling with words in the only language I know. I feel that there has to be some way to further refine what I want to say, and then write it. If each time I hit the delete button represented a crumbled up ball of paper, the wastebasket would be already overflowing.
In the fury of the moment I can see the Master’s hand
In every leaf that trembles, and in every grain of sand
– Bob Dylan
Okay, I officially declare this Bob Dylan Week at the Catch. And I’m good with that. Especially when there is so much to be gained and so much beauty expressed when he was rescued from despair by the Lord and lived to write and sing about it.
“Surrender your crown on this blood-stained ground; take off your mask” is one of the most powerful lines Dylan has ever written. And I won’t argue with the fact that, now that the mask is off, the naked man underneath is more beautiful than ever, because the glory of God shines through him. – Paul Williams
The above quote is from the book Dylan — What Happened? (1979) by Paul Williams (see yesterday’s Catch). I’ve received a number of comments and questions about what happened to Dylan after “What Happened…” where he appeared to drift away from the faith. I cannot answer those questions because only God knows his heart; I can only give my opinion, which is that I can’t foresee that the commitment and transformation that resulted in over 30 songs and the courage to go forth with them in concert against much opposition could be anything but genuine. I tend to agree with someone who commented on yesterday’s Catch, “Personally, I believe that being a follower of Christ is dramatically different from being a modern western Christian, and likely a large part of what drove Bob Dylan in a different direction.”
Marti and I have been enjoying a book given to me by our good friend Dave titled Dylan — What Happened?. The author is Paul Williams, late rock and roll journalist who created Crawdaddy!, the first national US magazine of rock music criticism.
Here is a question that, taken seriously, should infuse meaning into all we do: Why am I meant to be alive right now?
So in the long saga of our magnificent Christmas tree this year, how long can we let it grace our living room before they send in the psych squad? Of course nothing says we couldn’t leave it up all year, but soon, it will start to dry and drop its needles. I’m thinking about the legitimate outer limits of an extended Christmas. (Too far and the neighbors will start to wonder.) Some people wait until Epiphany, but that was January 6. Then a few wait until the traditional date of Christ’s baptism which is thought to be the third Sunday after Christmas, which this year was January 14. (We missed that one, too.) So I guess that leaves the last possible option as Candlemas, which this year is February 2. I have heard that some people keep their Christmas decorations up until then. That would make it legitimate. Two more weeks, then. Dare we leave it up?
John Fischer The Catch 