a coherent collection of random statements regarding God, words and tunes

Dude's Coming Home!

As I'm looking at a long weekend for reasons that will quickly become clear, I'll write this now....

Some of you may recall this entry from five months ago (see point #6 in particular). Well, after five months of Skype-ing, AIMing, and other haphazard forms of communication including the aforementioned blog, Amy finally "graduates" today, hops the first of a series of planes tomorrow, and arrives home Sunday afternoon. (BTW, here's the YWAM base site: http://ywam-targumures.com/index.html. I really hope they get around to updating that "Base Newsletter" tab soon, preferably before any more new music arrives. :))

Anyway, it's been requested that upon touch-down, she immediately gets a steak. So it has been said, so it shall be done. This is the best excuse we've had in a while to go to the best restaurant in town. :). Before, during, and after which, we'll all talk ourselves silly for hours. And, whether because of jet lag or just plain oldness, probably sleep well into Monday morning if not beyond.

Amy'll get to share about her travels with our group on Thursday, which is really a dry run for her & Sam leading service at the even earlier-aforementioned charismatic biker church Saturday night (that'll be a blast from the past).

Anyway, this should be a good weekend. And if you think I'm excited, you should see Marion. :) Peace, out.

Update: What a hairy four days it's been. To break it down:

Saturday: The flight out of Tirgu Mures, first thing in the morning our time was fogged in. (There only IS one flight.) Rescheduled to try again Sunday, and catch the flight back home out of Stockholm on Monday.

Sunday: The flight out of Tirgu Mures was fogged in. Again. They wound up taking a six-hour bus ride to Bucharest, and left Sunday night for Prague, and arrived in Stockholm....

Monday: ...two hours after their flight home left. Causing ANOTHER rescheduling, for Tuesday.

Tuesday a.m.: The flight left Stockholm, two hours late, leaving a 40-minute window to get through customs in Newark, switch terminals, and catch the final flight to DIA....

Tuesday p.m.: ...which they were able to make, as that flight was delayed for nearly two hours for maintenance. They're finally airborne as we speak, and due here, finally, in four hours. 

Posted by: burninglight at 15:41 | link | comments

Leave It to Shane....

Claiborne, that is. While I don't agree with all of his politics, I think his voice is one that's long overdue to be heard (and if you care to hear more of it, track down Jesus for President or The Irresistible Revolution). And I do agree with most of it, as will be obvious.

Anyway, in this season (and especially after catching Torturing Democracy on PBS the other night), this prayer (stolen from another blog that shall go unnamed, for that person's protection) is dead-on perfect. Enjoy, seethe, whatever....

God of Abraham, Miriam, Hannah, Rizpah, and David…
God of Elijah, Amos, Ruth, Isaiah, Deborah…
God of Mary, John the Baptizer, Peter, Paul, Philemon and Onesimus…
God of Anthony, Ambrose, Dirk Willems, Teresa of Avila, and Francis of
Assisi,
God of Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King, Mother Teresa, William
Wilberforce, and Oscar Romero
and God of love, grace, and hope…

Thank you for creating a perfect world.
Forgive us for the mess we have made of it.
Thank you for creating Jubilee, gleaning, and Sabbath as patterns to
ensure that the poor are cared for, the earth rests, and inequality is
dismantled.
Forgive us for choosing the patterns of empire.
Thank you for using the weak things to shame the strong and the
foolish things to confound the wise.
Protect us from becoming too strong or too wise.
Protect us from ourselves.

Forgive us…
for the groaning of creation
for the millions who die of hunger and curable diseases
for warehousing people in prisons and using them for labor
for the scandal of billions wasted in war
for worrying about tomorrow and storing up more than this day our
daily bread
for an economy that mirrors the seven deadly sins
for our Caesars and our Herods
for the violence and greed in our own hearts
Save us from ourselves.

Deliver us…
from the arrogance of power
from the myth of redemptive violence
from the tyranny of greed
from the ugliness of racism
from false hope and counterfeit change
from the cancer of hatred
from the seduction of wealth
from the idolatry of nationalism
from the paralysis of cynicism
from the ghettoes of poverty
from the ghettoes of wealth
from the blood-stained pages of history
and from the legacy of slavery.
Deliver us oh God.

Give us the courage…
to bless the poor in a world that blesses the middle class.
to bless the meek in a world that admires aggression.
to bless the hungry in a world that feeds the already fed.
to bless the merciful in a world that shows no mercy on evildoers.
to bless the pure in heart in a world of clutter and noise.
to bless the peacemakers in a world that baptizes bombs.

Give us imagination…
that we might not conform to the patterns of this world.
that we might shatter indifference and interrupt injustice with grace
that we might choose the cross over the sword
that we might be as shrewd as serpents and as innocent as doves
that we might consider the lillies and sparrows as they shame Wall
Street’s splendor
that we might choose the dream of God over the dreams of nations
that we might cling to the God that so loved the world, not just America
that we might allow our Jesus to change America rather than America to
change our Jesus.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Posted by: burninglight at 16:56 | link | comments (2)

Deja (with a different) Vu

In my recent series of “hit-and-run” reviews, I hit on a couple themes that apparently I’m about to hit on again – the old friend (musically speaking) with the big old sound that I’m grateful (if not quite overwhelmed) to have, and the little-known hero (who I've actually spoken to) from back East who enables me to reference Sufjan Stevens (because that’s SUCH a huge subset...) -- in the forms of The Verve and Matthew Loaicano, respectively.

Anyway, I have in my possession a couple new releases that enable me to go back over that ground again. And as with those earlier reviews, while neither’s an all-time-great album (speaking of which, who knew I’d still have Sparks’ Exotic Creatures of the Deep in my rotation months later? And that it’d in fact be the best album since... well, let’s just say I’ve already referenced him once in this review....), they're both well worth your time.

But, and because I’m good at it, I digress. Anyway, let’s begin, with the band you WILL recognize, and probably have had fun parodying in the past....

The Cure – 4:13 Dream. Brilliant? Well, no. Not quite. Catchy? Yeah-HUH. Visceral? You betcha. And thus, well worth yr time for the first time in a decade and a half? Yep-PERS.

 Anyway, and ‘cause I do it every so often anyway, props once more to Andre at Tuesday Morning 3 a.m. for inspiring me to take one more chance on The Original Emo/Goth Boy. Once I stumbled across the line, “Wild Mood Swings made me want to die, and not in that good Cure-like way,” I knew we were on the same page with this.  (It’s also worth yr time to read Andre’s rant about the Queen/Paul Rodgers album right below it – he’s dead-on there, too.)

And thus, easily the best thing Robert Smith & Co. have done since Wish. And arguably accomplishing this via the same formula that hadn’t been used since then: The big slashingly romantic “Open”-like murkfest that is “Underneath the Stars,” followed by the perfect pop that likewise is “High,” er, “Only One.””

OK, from there it’s not as explicitly Wish-like, but by then you’ve already been sucked in and it’s almost all quite enjoyable. And it continues to grow on me in leap and bounds.  “Reasons Why” is a minor-keyed bounce-to-stomp-to-scream-and-back-again (in short, a Cure song) that opens, “I won't try to bring you down about my suicide."  “Freakshow” is a more straight-ahead fuzzed-up swing that says its peace and passes quickly. “Sirensong” actually introduces some slide guitar into a sweet piano/acoustic sway that doesn’t sound entirely unlike a slowed-down “Pictures of You.”

And so on. Really. If you’ve actually missed the Cure for lo these past 16 years: They’re back. Really. Honest and for true. And  there’s supposedly a second, darker album hot on the heels of this poppier one. And so, I’m actually looking forward to that one now. Therefore, it’s once more time to join with the South Park gang to say:

RobertSmithoftheCure, you ROCK!

**********

And now, for the hometown favorite – I mean, the REAL hometown favorite:

Jai Agnish – Awake When You Dream. When we last visited the pride of West Milford, New Jersey, 2 years ago, he had just emerged from a 6-year hiatus with Mechanical Sunshine. And everything I said there remains true, so it’s worth (re-)reading. This time we only had to wait two years (which these days is pretty much the norm anyway). And Awake When You Dream definitely is the obvious next step in the career of our lo-fi hero.

Specifically, the Fisher Price toys and Casios have altogether disappeared (he’s apparently upgraded to “a 1980's Roland synth”). Thus, the winsomely quirky acoustic songsmith who’s been there all along is entirely front-and-center. And again, if you like the gentler, less orchestrated side of his buddy Sufjan, you oughta like this.

And, oh yeah: It’s FREE. So there’s no excuse to not at least try it.

As for individual songs, “Paradise” is the immediate front-runner. Here and elsewhere, Peg Carlin throws in just the right amount of background vocals. And speaking of Jai-buddies, this one’s Danielson without all the deliberate weirdness that pretty much makes make him impossible to enjoy.

The opener “New Parade” (also w/ some nice Carlin back-ups) has a nice march-like acoustic intro, and the rejoinder “You can say I / you can say I / you can see all of our eyes” haunts beyond the initial delivery, as does, “Everyone’s here, and everyone’s messed up / Everyone, run, run....”

“We Found Love” is almost countryish, especially if you lock into the gentle background synths (?). Again, the lyrics are simple but endearing, “How high does this love go / How high does this love go / Don’t tell me the answer / Leave it a mystery....”

I won’t pretend that I get “Lightning Bugs” – then again, since he wrote it for his 2-year-old nephew Drew I don’t suppose I have to, do I? Even though I now own it, it’s not for me anyway. Nonetheless, it fits in fine with the childlikeness that’s all over this.

And the strongly quiet closer, “An American,” is about as close to social commentary as Jai’s ever gotten, as it speaks of a better world wherever the other person is....

She lives on a farm in New York
Just outside the city lights
She says she’s an American 
He works in the city
Puts in 60 hours a week
Playing games with money
He says he’s an American....

Now she bought a new car
She’s heading down the Thruway
The hills and the small towns
Over the bridge and the Hudson
Into the city

It’s sweaty on the trading floor
I lost somebody’s money again
Gotta get out this place
Over the bridge and the Hudson
Out of the city

They dream of smoke
They dream of fire
They dream of vision
Her face is like the sun, the sun
They heard her voice, and the saints making noise
Then the war, it begins, it begins

So check it out. What have you got to lose, anyway? Then, if you like it, throw down for some of his other stuff. Tell him Carl sent you. No. Seriously. He'll actually know what y'r talking about.

Posted by: burninglight at 20:32 | link | comments (4)