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?
It’s January 16, and our Christmas tree is still casting its warm glow across our living room. The reluctance to take it down isn’t just a matter of logistics; it’s a testament to the magnificence of the tree itself. In the 23 years we’ve called this 80-year-old cottage home, this tree stands out as the most splendid we’ve ever had. Within the confines of our tiny abode (680 square feet), the open beam living room ceiling reaches a peak of 14 feet. The mystery of how we managed to fit it through the door remains, but there it stands, reaching within a foot of the ceiling and spreading its branches almost to the walls, claiming half of our living space.
Well, the first week of 2024 is now history and Marti and I are carrying great expectations for this coming year. It’s going to be a challenge because there is much in my life telling me to ease up. You’re getting older; don’t expect so much from yourself.
But do you know what I think when I hear that?
One of our favorite restaurants in town has an appetizer that gives you three small lamb chops grilled and seasoned to my perfection alongside a small tasty Greek salad. I honestly don’t know how you could possibly follow this up with an entree. It already has everything. It turns out to be a full meal for me for the price of an appetizer. Are there other, better things on the menu? Probably, but I will never know that because I would never take the chance of being disappointed when I know I could have had my sure bet plate. There’s a name for the value I place on this. It’s one of the six basic human needs and it’s called certainty.
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky…
Most of you are familiar with this line by now. It’s the opening line of a New Years poem written by the English poet, Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) in 1850, but in light of its content could have been written yesterday for the way in which it spoke out against party strife, mean-spiritedness, lack of manners, and the absence of kindness. We looked into it during the last 24 hours of 2023 and in our New Years Eve service on Facebook Live. (If you missed it, you can check out the video at http://www.facebook.com/thecatch.) Not to belabor the point, but there is one last thing I wish to point out about this timely turn-of-the-year poem, and that would be Lord Tennyson’s use of the word “wild” in this opening line.
Why the “wild bells,” and the “wild sky?”
John Fischer The Catch 