This is a pretty picture of pesto but not a picture of the actual pesto about which this post is written.

My friends Brandi and Shane are in the middle of adopting their daughters and bringing them home from Ukraine.  Adoption in general is pretty expensive.  International adoption in particular can really be a strain on a young family’s budget.  So, some people decided it would be cool to host a benefit in their honor.

Liza was part of the team organizing everything.  They had a meeting where, amongst various other topics, they discussed what food to serve as the dinner.  It was decided that there would be a pasta bar with different sauces.  Liza volunteered me (notice who volunteered who) to make a pesto sauce because, “Chris makes a really good pesto sauce.”

Now, I should clarify Liza’s ringing endorsement of my pesto-production-prowess.  There was this one time that we were having people over, and I decided to make lamb chops and a mint-basil pesto with which to garnish them.  That’s it.  However, in the mind of my ever-affirming wife, that means that I make a really good pesto sauce.

Anyway, despite the fact that I have never, EVER made a pesto sauce for past, I was more than willing to give it a try.  I scoured the internet for pesto recipes (which basically means I went to foodnetwork.com, searched “pesto,” clicked on “Giada De Laurentiis” and scanned the results for something I thought would be easy).  I found two I liked the sound of and decided to combine them into one mega-recipe.  I made a list of needed ingredients for Liza who was kind enough to volunteer to go to the grocery store for me, and that was that.

Yesterday, the day of the benefit, I sat out to make the sauce.  My combined recipe (planned out to be enough sauce for 40 people) called for five 10 ounce packages of frozen spinach.  These packages had been thawed but I needed to basically squeeze as much of the moisture from them as I could.  I grabbed one of the packages to begin and tore it open.  What stared back at me was not frozen spinach but frozen broccoli.  In fact, three of my five packages were frozen broccoli.

This was just a slight oversight on Liza’s part, but I panicked.  I didn’t know what to do.  So, I just pressed forward, throwing all kinds of things together in a food processor, adjusting ingredients as I made each batch and praying that it would turn out okay.

Evidently it did.  A number of people have said how much they liked it and some extremely kind and flattering souls have even requested the recipe.

I give all of you this backstory  to let you know that I don’t really have a recipe.  I started with two from Giada (I love you, Giada), but things only devolved from there.  However, I’m going to attempt to give you all the recipe here.  I would encourage you, though, to experiment with it yourself until you get what you like.

Primo Pesto

Recipe for 8 servings

Ingredients needed:

• 1 (10 oz.) package frozen spinach, thawed and squeezed almost dry
• 1 (4 oz.) can artichoke arts, drained
• ½ cup pine nuts
• ½ cup slivered almonds
• 1 cup grated parmesan cheese
• ¾ cup fresh parsley, packed down
• ¼ cup fresh basil, packed down
• ½ cup chicken broth
• ½ cup extra virgin olive oil
• ½ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
• ½ teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 lemon, zested and juiced
• 4 cloves of garlic, roasted and peeled

1.  Toast the pine nuts and almonds in a single layer in a large skillet over medium heat until fragrant, about 3-5 minutes.  Stir occasionally throughout.

2.  In a food processor, combine pine nuts, almonds, parmesan cheese, garlic, artichoke hearts salt and pepper.  Pulse blend a few times.

3.  Add spinach, basil, parsley and lemon.  Blend on low a few moments.  Then add chicken broth and blend on high.

4.  Slowly pour in the olive oil while continuing to blend until smooth.

5.  Serve with pasta, chicken, bread, lamb, whatever.

I hope you enjoy it.

Bon Appetit!

The image above is from my office. I have a bookshelf in between two chairs, and on top Max and the “Wild Things” from Maurice Sendak‘s classic Where the Wild Things Are dance on in a relentless wild rumpus.

I keep these figures there so that I see them every day and am reminded of that scene from the book because there’s something very attractive about it to me.  I find the image of a land where I am king of all that is wild and dangerous and frightening and adventurous and magical to be very appealing and conducive to my “process.”  Of course, I know it’s an illusion, itself a figment of imagination run rampant, but that doesn’t matter, not in the moment.  Whenever faced with trouble, whether of my own doing or not, I like the fantasy that I might conquer it all through sheer will and declare a dance rather than a tantrum.

Even though I’m now an adult, a grown up, with a child of my own, I like this idea. I’ve always liked it.  I can’t tell you that Where the Wild Things Are has always been my favorite book or that I’ve always loved it as much as I do, not because it wasn’t or I didn’t, but rather because I simply can’t remember.  You’d have to ask my parents (which I haven’t, so I can’t tell you what they’d say).  However, I can, at the very least, tell you I’ve always connected with it.  Of course, whether I could articulate why or not is a different story altogether.

I tell you all this just to try to put into context a little bit for you how excited I’ve been about the film version of Where the Wild Things Are that opened this weekend.  I’ve been sincerely worried about it.  I had the same thoughts as so many who have loved the book as children and carried some deep relation to it on into our adulthoods, which could be somewhat summed up with the following exhortation, “They better get it right.”

But what is “right” with regards to a masterpiece of children’s literature that is only ten sentences long, a mere 339 words, and extends just as firm a grip on the hearts and dreams of adults as it does on those of their kids?  I honestly don’t know.  Even though I wanted them to get it right, I would have been completely and utterly at a loss as to define for you just what I meant by that had you asked.  So, having now seen the movie, if you were to ask me, “did they get it right?” I think I’d still have to say, “I don’t know.”

What I can tell you, though, is this: what they did, in fact, “get” I absolutely adore.

Some people have expressed to me their interest in my thoughts on the movie. As I’ve just said, I loved it.  So, there you go.  For any of you who haven’t seen it, let me offer a “brief” review.  Then, for those of you who actually stick around, I want to try to express on a deeper level the resonant affection I have for this film.

The movie follows the same basic plot-line as the book, which can be summed up like this:

A mischievous young boy in a wolf costume named Max causes trouble for his mother who lashes out at him, leading him to escape to the land of the “wild things” whom he “tames” and over whom he is then made king.  As his first order of business, Max declares that a “wild rumpus” begin.  However, after the fun has run its course, Max finds himself longing to be back home.  So, he leaves the “wild things,” though they don’t want him to go, and returns to his home and his dinner.

However, don’t go in expecting a mere re-telling of the book. In fact, don’t go in expecting a children’s movie at all.  I’ve found that most of the criticism lobbed at the film is because of some unmet expectations.  So, if you go in expecting either of the preceding, know that you’re going to be soon joining the camp of the naysayers.

Even though it follows that same basic plot-line, it’s very, very different from the book and Spike Jonze (the co-writer and director) and his crew (including co-writer Dave Eggers) have made a beautifully raw film about childhood, but not necessarily a film for children.  It’s worth mentioning that they did so with cooperation, participation and blessing from Maurice Sendak who’s been quoted as saying, “I would rather not have had a film than turn it into a kiddie movie.”

Rest assured, it’s no “kiddie movie.”  You see, in adapting the book into a screenplay, Jonze and Eggers remembered what all children know but adults tend to forget, namely that childhood is not cute, precious and innocent.  Rather, it’s actually hard, painful, confusing, awkward, terrifying, violent and even, sometimes, lonely while also being endlessly adventurous, paradoxically joyful and heartbreaking, and most definitely fun.  So, that’s the movie they made.

Max is now the son of divorced parents and lives with his mother who’s busy with her own problems and a sister who’s leaving him behind in her own quest to grow up.  The kid’s got problems, both of his own doing and as a result of living in an imperfect world, and is definitely having trouble processing and dealing with them.  This results in fits of pure rage and attention-seeking acts of selfishness.  His mother reaches her limit with Max when he acts out in front of her new boyfriend causing her embarrassment.  She fails in an effort to calm/control/comfort/condemn/convict/corral Max resulting in his running away from home.  Max discovers a boat and sails to the island of the wild things, a dysfunctional family of larger-than-life monsters over whom he soon becomes king in the hopes that he’ll keep them together and make everything the way it should be.  The rest of the film follows the results of the very real truth that it’s impossible for anyone to do that.

I think everything about this film is great.  The writing.  The directing.  The performances, whether by live actors, like the perfectly genuine and relatable Catherine Keener or the new star-in-the-making Max Records, or the performers in the wild things suits designed by the Jim Henson Company, or the voice talent, a dream-cast that includes Forest Whitaker, Catherine O’Hara, Paul Dano, Chris Cooper, Lauren Ambrose and James Gandolfini (I admit that having heard Gandolfini’s voice in the trailer, I hated it.  However, hearing it in context, there’s no one else to play his part).  The cinematography is both beautiful and unsettling, and the music by Karen O is pitch-perfect (pun intended).  Plus, the CGI utilized is actually believable and serves the character (as much as it pains me to say it, take notice George Lucas).

I give it an A++ or 5 terrible roars out of 5.

I’ll eat it up, I love it so.

To sum up, here’s the tweet I posted right after I’d seen it.

Just saw Where the Wild Things Are. Wow! I’m a wreck. Loved it. Really really loved it. If you didn’t I understand. But… Wow. I did.

If you are one of those who just want to see the images of the book move (and I completely get that) you can check out the animated version here.

Now, if anyone else is left, let me warn you that SPOILERS MOST CERTAINLY FOLLOW. Scroll down if you want.  If not, don’t worry, I won’t take it personally.

Ultimately the real reason I love Where the Wild Things Are (the film) is because it’s truth. It’s an incomplete truth to be sure, but truth none the less.

As I’m sure you know from seeing the trailers or posters like the one above, the marketing tagline for the film is, “There’s One In All Of Us.”  And this is true.  That’s actually where the wild things are.  Inside each of us are those things that are out of control or wild.  They’re terrible and frightening.  They want to be our friend yet so often can’t be trusted.  They tell us we’re in charge yet constantly seek to consume us.  We can get lost indefinitely in being engaged with them, and this engagement can be both playful and tragic.  They’re broken and selfish and manipulative but also attractive and curious.

Yes, this is truth.  There is indeed a wild thing inside of each of us.  However, it’s an incomplete truth, because, like Max, most of us, perhaps even all of us, don’t just have one wild thing, but a whole family of them.  Inside Max it seems there are seven, maybe more, but these are the ones he meets, with whom he engages and from whom he’s able to learn a bit about himself and how he relates to the world around him.

I’m not a literary or film critic by any means.  However, let me take a minute and tell you, just from my perspective, what aspects of Max’s character I feel each of the wild things represents.

Ira is his innocence, goodness, artistry and naivete, and also Max’s openness to trust.  You might say that Ira is Max’s child-likeness.

Judith is Max’s skepticism, his burgeoning realization that things are not what they seem and probably shouldn’t be believed.  She’s weariness and sarcasm.  She’s kinda like his potential grown-upness.  Incidentally and significantly, Judith and Ira go together like husband and wife.

Alexander is Max’s insecurity and need for acceptance and affirmation.  He’s also honesty and hurt.

Douglas is reason and practicality.  However, he also possesses the propensity for relativism if it seems to serve the greater good.

The Bull is Max’s silent strength.  He also embodies all that is frightening.  He’s a thinker and represents potential.

KW is love, not a perfect love, but rather one that’s jaded, that’s seeking someone to return their understanding of what love is.  She’s a protector and a realist.

Then there’s Carol.  While Max is declared king of the wild things, Carol is their de facto leader.  This makes sense because he’s the one that is most like the Max we see.  He’s aggression and anger born out of a frustration with the sense that things aren’t how they should be.  He is passion personified.

Of course, these are oversimplifications.  The wild things are actually much more complicated and fuller characters than I’ve described here, but I think, hopefully, you get my point and can even begin to notice some of the wild things you have in you.

We all, at some point or another, think that this world would be better if we could just control it. We think this, of course, because we believe, on some (deep, often hidden) level that this world is our world, and that is the land of the wild things.  It’s a world in which we seemingly tame our wild things by giving false credentials for why we’re qualified to be in charge and are then declared king to rule as we see fit with the promise that we, like Max, could “be a truly great king.”  There’s just one problem… the land, like the things, is wild itself and cannot be tamed.

After Max is declared king and they have their wild rumpus, Carol takes Max on a tour of his kingdom.  Along the way Carol is telling him that everything that can be seen belongs to him as the king.  However, Carol then begins to make exceptions, like the holes that Ira makes in the trees or “that stick” or “that rock.”  See?  Even though Max is king he’s not fully in control, nor could he ever be.  There are even parts of his kingdom that already are “not that great.”

Of course, like us, Max can’t see this, at least not at first.  He believes he can be king and he can make things better.  He immediately sets forth trying to do so, to construct a place in which everyone will be safe and protected and can live together in Utopian harmony where they can “all sleep together in one big pile.”  It doesn’t take long for conflict to arise, though.  And what is Max’s solution but more conflict.

He divides the group into two teams of “good guys” and “bad guys” and proceeds to initiate a dirt clod war (remember those?  I do).  We might be tempted to think how childish this is of Max, yet I can’t help but realize this is so often how I address conflict in my own life, whether personal or corporate.  I compartmentalize and oversimplify, drawing clear battle lines and forcing everyone (even if it’s just myself) to choose sides.  In the end this strategy never works, and it certainly doesn’t for Max.  It doesn’t take long until feelings (and bodies) are hurt and the group is scattered again.

It’s following this that I believe the pivotal moment in the film occurs.  Max approaches Alexander who’s been injured both physically and emotionally in the war.  He’s alone, as usual, and feeling desperately sorry for himself.  Max realizes for the first time the trouble he’s caused and the impossibility he faces when trying to make everything right himself.  Alexander forces him to stare himself in the face by declaring:

You’re not really a king, are you?  You’re just a boy pretending to be a wolf pretending to be king.

Max, of course, realizes and acknowledges that this is true.  To which Alexander heartbreakingly replies, “I don’t think there is a king like that [that can make everything right and keep everyone together].”  And this is truth, though an incomplete truth.

I’m a man of faith and that influences everything in my life. I recognize that not all of you share my faith, and therefore, won’t see what I’m about to describe.  But the reason that Alexander’s resignation was so heartbreaking to me is because I know that there is a King like that, yet I also know well, as I think we all do, the doubt.

In the middle of all of it, though, we (hopefully) eventually come to realize that even without the answers, the first step is admitting that we’re not king, or at least not a very good one.  Max does and decides to return home.  None of the wild things really understand why but none take it more personally than Carol.  He basically goes nuts.  Douglas tries to calm him down.  So, Carol rips his arm off and then decides the only way to keep Max around is to eat him.  Max escapes by actually climbing in KW’s mouth.

Did you get that?

He escapes being literally consumed by the wild thing that represents anger and aggression by instead being consumed by the wild thing that represents affection and acceptance.

Later, after Carol has cooled off a bit, Max comes to see him.  Carol basically questions why he has to leave and why everything isn’t better since he came.  Max’s answer results in the following exchange.

Max: Because I’m not a king.

Carol: Well, what are you then?

Max: I’m Max.

Carol: That’s not very much, is it?

But part of what Max has realized is that it is, just not the “much” he had thought.

And that’s true, though incomplete.

Carol then walks off leaving Max alone.  Max goes to the beach where all of the other wild things are.  He promises to talk well about them when he returns and as he’s climbing in his boat to leave, Judith comments, “you’re the first king we haven’t eaten,” to which all the other wild things chime in with agreement.

And that’s true.  The wild things inside only consume us when we ceaselessly and uselessly attempt to exert control.  When we give up that illusion, we give up their control as well.

Meanwhile, Carol is off alone but stumbles across a simple message Max has left him: a heart made out of sticks with a “C” in the middle.  Just as Max is setting off Carol comes running down the dunes and straight out into the water.  Max looks back at him and all of the wild things, while they all look after him.  What’s left for them to do but to roar their terrible roars?

And this they do.

They roar.

They roar with longing.

They roar with regret.

They roar with expectancy.

They roar with sorrow.

They roar with joy.

They roar with fury.

And they roar with love.

‘Cause, you see, that’s what it’s ultimately about.  Love.  Love of self and love of others, regardless of how wild we all may be.

And this is true though incomplete.

And by this point the final scene is just icing, delicious and sweet and leaving us (or me at least) craving more.

Maybe you think I’ve read way too much into it, and maybe I did.  But I don’t care, because it got me.  Where the Wild Things Are really got me.

Some of the critiques from parents that I’ve read have centered around the film being too dark, the themes being too adult, Max being too rambunctious and angry, the wild things being too sad and scary and not being inspirational enough.  To those parents I would say that regardless of what their specific issues might be, their children are living in a very wild world and the vast majority don’t know how to deal with it if no one will help them.  If nothing else, Where the Wild Things Are illustrates this perfectly and provides all of you with the perfect opportunity to help your children along the way by talking to them not like a kid but a fellow wild thing.

So, if you any of you have made it this far… thanks.  I’m sure I haven’t expressed myself as well as I could have.  Maybe we can grab some coffee and just talk about it.

I think that would be nice.

Arrrroooooooooooooooooooo!

I’m going to do something today that I normally deplore other bloggers doing.  Namely, I’m going to simply point you to someone else’s content and not comment on it, at least not yet.  It’s extremely thought provoking, and I need some time to wrestle with it some more.

So…

If you haven’t read Don Miller’s post today, do so now by clicking here.

So, this past weekend I drove over to Eagles Landing FBC south of Atlanta for the Georgia BCM’s Confluence Conference.  After a crazy week, I was looking forward to setting aside Student Life stuff for a couple of hours and focusing on something else.  I had been asked to come talk about creating authentic encounters with God.  That’s a pretty lofty request, but I gave it my best shot.  I really enjoyed working on it and had even more fun delivering the content I had worked on.  The crowd I was with was great, responsive and interactive.  I may have enjoyed it more than them, but if that’s the case, they didn’t let me know.  Hopefully, I can do some things for them in the future.

Anyway, as part of my preparation I ended up actually developing a formula for creating authentic encounters with God.  I now choose to share this insightful, provocative, profound, world-changing development with all of you.

Here’s the translation: Encounter equals God plus you minus the front you put up for the World plus Jesus divided amongst particular times and certain places to the power of the Holy Spirit.

Now, how exactly does that play out?

Well, that’s what the whole seminar was about, and I even ran out of time to fully cover it like I would have liked.  So, I can’t expound too much here.

You’ll just have to wrestle with it on your own.

Until next time…

“There are no original ideas.  There are only original people.” – Barbara Grizzuti Harrsion

“No idea’s original/there’s nothin’ new under the sun/it’s never what you do/but how it’s done.” – Nas

Originality isn’t easy to come by.  For a creative*, that’s a tough pill to swallow.  Originality is what makes you stand out, what sets you apart from the rest of the crowd, hence it being “original.”  Of course, it normally helps if it’s also good and desirable.

You can be as original as you want, but if you’re no good, does it really matter?  And if you’re terribly original but not at something anyone cares about, then who’s going to notice?  Obviously you can be both good and desirable but not original at all, but that probably means whatever you’re doing will never last.  It’s the originality that’s key.

And it’s the quest for originality that often keeps me up at night.  I’m one of those people that just isn’t okay with being like someone else, or copying someone else’s idea (whether I improve on it or not).  And when I find myself doing just that, which I too often do, I hate it.  I wonder what worth there could possibly be in what I’m doing.

Of course the worst is when I acutally have an original idea only to come to find out that it isn’t original whatsoever.  Someone else is doing it or has already done it or is about to do it.  If it’s someone really incredible at what they do, then at least it’s a bit flattering or encouraging ’cause it tells me I actually know what I’m doing.  But it’s always followed by the sickening revulsion that someone beat me to the punch.

As a creative who believes in God, things get even more complicated.  I serve the Creator, the source of all creation and creativity, the one who is so original there is literally no one and nothing like Him.  All things good, true, and worthy come from Him.  I seek Him and the things of Him above all, forsaking anything else.  So, when I get an idea I believe to be from Him, that He wishes me to specifically develop for whatever reason, only to discover it’s unoriginality, I struggle… to say the least.

I’m not really talking about anything specific.  I’m not even sure why I felt the desire to write this post.  It’s late, and this just happened to be something I was thinking about.

So, there you go.  What do you think?

*By “creative” I mean anyone who is involved in thinking up and developing new ideas.  This obviously covers a wide range of people and vocations.  So, when I consider myself a “creative,” I’m not really inducting myself into some terribly exclusive group of people.

On another topic, footnotes are a new thing for this blog.  I’m not sure how I feel about them.  “Academic” comes to mind, and I’ve never particularly cared for that word.

You guys need to check out what my friend, Crystal, and the rest of her crew I lovingly refer to as “the Birmingham girls,” did recently.

You can find it here.

What are the rest of us doing?

Some of you know that I attended the Catalyst Conference in Atlanta last week. It was pretty good. I’ve been going for the past four or five years and enjoy it every time. A few of us from the creative team at Student Life usually get to go because of how good the production is. But, it’s a leadership conference. So we end up talking much more about the leadership principles espoused than how they use the LED cylinder. I think this is great since we’re often not the ones really looked to for leadership. After all, I don’t any of the 21 Irrefutable Fundamentals of Teamwork and Leadership Through Micromanaging Your Flock memorized..

One of the best sessions to me was on Thursday afternoon when Seth Godin spoke. Some of you may know Godin as the author of Purple Cow, Permission Marketing, Free Prize Inside or The Dip. He’s a big dog in the world of business, writes the most read business blog in the world, and has nine (that’s right, count ‘em, nine) bestsellers. I don’t think he’s a believer either, but what he had to say was great. He obviously knew who his audience was and catered his talk to us. His presentation was fantastic and engaging as well. He also gave a copy of his latest book, Tribes, to everyone in attendance. That’s almost 13,000 copies. Remember those nine bestsellers? Yeah. He’s not worried about it.

Anyway, I’ve been reading through the book lately, and I’m really into it. I stumbled across a passage the other night that I liked and wanted to share with you.

If religion comprises rules you follow, faith is demonstrated by the actions you take.

When you lead without compensations, when you sacrifice without guarantees, when you take risks because you believe, then you are demonstrating your faith in the tribe and its mission.

Of course it’s difficult. But leaders will tell you that it’s worth it.

Thoughts?

jea*lous – adjective

1. feeling resentment against someone because of that person’s rivalry, success, or advantages (often fol. by of)

2. feeling resentment because of another’s success, advantage, etc. (often fol. by of)

3. characterized by or proceeding from suspicious fears or envious resentment

4. inclined to or troubled by suspicions or fears of rivalry, unfaithfulness, etc., as in love or aims

5. solicitous or vigilant in maintaining or guarding something

6. in the Bible: intolerant of unfaithfulness or rivalry

“Do not worship any other god, for the LORD, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God.” – Exodus 34:14

So, our theme at Student Life for our spring events in ’09 is Live Love. I won’t spend much time now getting into how or why we chose that theme or what we really mean by it. Perhaps I’ll save that for another post, or you can come to one of the events yourself and find out. What I will say is that we’ve begun working on the content for that event that will flesh out the theme. Today, in particular, we had our first meeting about the Bible study for our Just Like Christ series that will go along with this theme. For this initial meeting we try to cast some vision about what we’re wanting to generally communicate about the theme from a Biblical perspective and then try to prayerfully hone in on what Scripture passages we should focus on. We go about this in any number of different ways, everything from just tossing out specific references or stores to talking concepts and topics. Present for the meeting in question were Andy Blanks (Director of Resource Development), Drew Francis (Creative Director), Justin Ireland (Director of Ministry Events), Jenny Riddle (Publishing Assistant), Travis Hawkins & Erin Moon (Big Time Producers), and myself (I’ve included titles because a lot of us have gotten new ones lately, and I think it’s kinda funny; mine’s Content Creator, by the way; how’s that for a title).

At one point, about midway through our conversation, Andy started us wondering if there was a parallel between how we are to love God and how we are to love others. For instance, we’re to serve God. It’s easy to see a parallel in that the Bible is very clear that we’re to serve other people as well. But can you continue that type of thing? Let’s consider worship. We’re to worship God. Are we to worship other people? No. Certainly not. God alone is worthy of worship. Okay. But just what is worship? When I look up just a definition in English I see two things repeated: “honor” and “adoration.” I think that’s pretty good. Well, are we not to honor other people through our love for them? Is there not a measure of adoration for our fellow neighbor involved in our relationship with them? So… you see how we began thinking that might work and could be really interesting.

Well, that naturally led to wondering if, then, there is a parallel between how God loves us and how we are to love others. Now, this made sense right off the bat. After all, we know from 1 John 4:19 that we love because God first loved us. Our love, especially as a child of God, is an overflow of the love he pours out on us (I recognize I just made a little bit of a leap, but I’m just going to assume, as dangerous as that can be, that you’re tracking along with me here; let me know otherwise if need be; besides, I’m kinda thinking and processing as I go along here). Now, if that’s the case, then the characteristics of His love for us should be present in our love for each other. So, let’s just start giving some names to those characteristics: grace, mercy, sacrifice, service, selflessness, humility, joy, peace, forgiveness, understanding, patience, faithfulness, etc. The list could obviously go on and on and on. And if you look at that list and even let it continue it makes sense how those things should be present in our love for other people, whether or not they currently are. But if you continue that list to its fruitiong, some characteristics that it would contain become a little more difficult to reconcile. One that jumped out to me was jealousy.

“… God is love.” So ends 1 John 4:8. Right? No argument there, at least not from me. Now, if you flip back through your Bible, way towards the beginning, you come across that verse from Exodus I’ve printed above. the Lord, God is not only described as a jealous God, He is actually ascribed it as His name. It is so much a part of who He is, it so characterizes Him (at least in certain situations) that you could call Him that AS HIS NAME! Whoa! That’s tough to ignore. Wrapped up in the Love God is the Jealous God.

So, I wonder, is jealousy supposed to be part of me as well?

Confession: unfortunatley, I am a jealous person by nature. Maybe we all are, part of being fallen and everything. However, it’s always bothered me. This character flaw was made most evident in my dating life where I was very possessive of my girlfriend, especially concerning other friends she might have had of the male persuasion. But that’s no the only place jealousy rears it’s ugly head in my life. Whether it be at work or in my family or at my church or anywhere else for that matter, chances are I’ve been jealous of something. In fact, if I’m to be perfectly honest, there’s a good chance that I’ve been jealous of you at some point or another, and I’m not even sure who you (the blog reader) are. That’s how bad it can get. I’m not proud of it. I’m not ignorant of it. I can’t justify it. I don’t like it. But it’s true.

And it’s bad. Really, really bad. I know that. So, then, back to the idea of God as Jealous. Do I understand God’s jealousy in light of my own? Or is He different? I’m going to go with the latter. I find it, not only inbeneficial to try to understand God through my understanding of myself, but completley irresponsible and dangerous as well, not to mention way off base and, frankly, wrong. Well, what does it mean then for God to be jealous?

To start I turn to the definition of the word. This is a little bit skewed because I’m dealing with the English here and not the Hebrew, but bear with me and trust me that it’s okay. I’ve done my homework. I’ve printed the six definitions of “jealous” according to dicitonary.com. The first three all have to do with resentment, rivalry and fear. I’m going to go ahead and rule those out because God is Love, not resentment. There is no one or thing that can rival Him. And He really doesn’t fear anything at all. He wouldn’t be God if He did. So, let’s move on to number 4. This one has to do with fear and rivalry as well. Why not just toss it out like the rest? Well, because of the word “unfaithfulness.” This particular definition is what’s used in relationships to say that someone is jealous. So, when I say that I was jealous of girlfriends and their relationship with their male friends it means that I was worried/fearful/anxious/whatever of them being unfaithful with someone I perceived to be a rival. However, the reason why I think this definition kinda works for God is that He isn’t fearful of our unfaithfulness. He’s fully knowledgable of it. Again, He isn’t concerend with a supposed rival. He recognizes that anything else that receives our love vastly pales in comparsion to Him. Yet, He doesn’t ignore that those things exist. So, I’m going to maintain that He is jealous because of our unfaithfulness, and His reason for this is actually another aspect of His jealousy.

Look at definition number 5. God is solicitous and vigilent in maintaining and guarding us and our relationship to and with Him, which is the reason He is jealous in the sixth definition sense of the word, the one that is directly attributed to the Biblical understanding. He is intolerant of unfaithfulness. He knows, possesses and is what is best for us. He is jealous of anything other than that for us.

So, then, can I parallel this jealousy that God posses on my account with how I might be jealous with others. I don’t know. Maybe. I kinda think so. Can I not hope and seek a manner of love in which I so deeply care about other people that I am crazy with jealousy over anything else that gets their attention other than what I know to be the only thing deserving of it?

I think I can, and I do.

There’s a lot to write about, but I’ll save it in order to make room for something light and fun.

Last week’s (radio) episode of This American Life was entitled “Mistakes Were Made.” Basically it was about people who apologize without really apologizing at all. For those of you unfamiliar with TAL (you can check the podcast out on iTunes), basically what they do is choose a theme and then tell stories that are somehow about that theme.

So, in this particular episode, host Ira Glass began by reading an aplogy sent by Congressman Geoff Davis (R-KY) to Presidential candidate and Senator Barack Obama (D-IL) after the former made remarks in a press conference recently about the latter saying, “that boy doesn’t need to have his finger on the button.” In the letter, Congressman Davis seems to be sincerely apologetic, and though it’s a formal lettter, wants to clearly and personally convey this to Senator Obama. After reading the letter, Glass contrasted it with recent “apologies” given by Senator Obama and his rival for the Democratic nomination, Senator Hillary Clinton (D-NY) ,concerning statements about supposedly bitter Americans clinging to guns and religion and incorrect reccollections about supposed sniper fire, respectively.

After walking his audience through this brief but timely introduction, Glass then introduced the two acts of the program. Act One was the majority of the show and was primarily about the early days of Cryonics. It was devestating, heartbreaking, and extremely interesting all at the same time. Act Two was much shorter by comparison, but is the one that really struck me.

This act was about a poem entitled This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams. The text of this poem is below:

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

I won’t do a lot of literary analysis here, but you can probalby see rather easily how this poem fit in with the theme of the show. Evidently, elementary school teachers use this poem regularly to help teach poetry to their students and often have them write a version of their own. In fact, a lot of people do this. If you google “this is just to say parody,” you can find all kinds of them. In fact, TAL had many of it regular contributers offer some of their own.

Well, this sounded great to me. I’m always on the lookout for writing exercises that are really different from what I’m used to and that can help challenge my creative impulses (and, if I’m honest, procrastinate working on what I need to be doing). So, I decided to give it a shot and share it with you. Below you’ll find some of my own variations. Enjoy!

——————–

This is Just to Say

1.
Today
Is the day
I said I
Would have it done

Of course
It’s not
Surprise
Surprise!

But it
Will be
Soon
I promise

2.
I told
Your secret
To everyone
Oops

I guess
That means
I can’t
Be trusted

But what
You don’t know
Can’t
Hurt you

3.
“I love you”
Meant “I want you”
“Trust me”
Meant “Take me”

But you know
What they say
“It takes two
To tango”

So why
Do you
Ignore
Me now

4.
I’m not
What you want
I’m not
What I could be

So?
You just
Need to
Get over it

How can I
Be anything
Other than
Me

5.
I didn’t
Do it
‘Cause I didn’t
Want to

It is
Really
Just that
Simple

Why not
Just
Accept
It

6.
I deleted
Your show
So I could
TiVo mine

I just
Couldn’t
Live
Without it

Yours was
Pretty
Crappy
Anyway

Plus they’ll
Probably
Rerun it
Again soon

7.
I know
I told you
I would
Have it done

But you
Know me well
How I like
To put things off

So you
Should have known
It would be
A little late

8.
We’ve made
A few deals
In our
Time together

If you
Do this
Then I’ll
Do that

Of course
I fail
Even though
You don’t

But that’s
To be
Expected
Right?

9.
I am
The one
Who swiped
Your change

I was
Thirsty
And bought
A Coke

This was
Not the
First time
Either

Sorry
But I
Couldn’t
Resist

10.
I know
I’ve been
Distant
And rude

But you
Have been
Driving me
Crazy

So selfish
So needy
So passive
Aggressive

You can’t
Really blame
Me then
Can you

But I’m
Sorry
If I hurt
Your feelings

You really
Shouldn’t
Be so
Sensitive

——————–

Now, why don’t you give it a shot?

Don’t know if you guys have ever seen this thing, but it’s pretty awesome. Click on the graphic below, and you’ll see what I mean. Just be prepared to be engrossed for a while.