Lyle Lovett is some kind of genius

This afternoon I listened to Willie Nelson's cover of "If I Were the Man You Wanted" (on Across the Borderline) and was again struck by Lyle Lovett's remarkable poetic craftsmanship. Consider the song's titular refrain:

If the stars didn't shine on the water, (a)
then the sun wouldn't burn on the sand; (b)
And if I were the man you wanted, (b')
I would not be the man that I am. (a')

The two lines are parallel in structure: both follow an "if, then" structure ("then" is ellided [omitted for style] in the second line) in which a contrary-to-fact condition results in the negation of the present state of affairs. Thematically, however, they form a chiasm (a poetic device whereby elements repeat and mirror one another). In the first line, an undesirable condition produces a desirable outcome; in the second, a desirable condition produces an undesirable outcome. Lovett plays form against theme to create a highly memorable refrain.

Plus, it's a wonderfully snarky observation, as only the best of country music lyrics can be.

The duty & honor belonging to equals

I've been preparing sermons on the Shorter Catechism's exposition of the 5th Commandment (#63-66), and have been thinking this may be one of the most neglected commandments in today's Church. It seems to me little to no thought is given to honoring others in today's narcissistic, Oprah-fueled-self-affirming culture at large, and, in the Church in particular, many adult members seem to forget their duty to honor children as equally members of Christ's body. Over at the First Things website, Beth Samuelson has an essay with any number of pointed observations on this subject. Her concluding paragraphs put the matter quite nicely.

I have seen many evangelical church services in central Africa and other parts of the non-Western world during which toddlers occasionally roam the aisles or even wander up to the pulpit before being scooped up by a parent or older sibling. Infants who start to cry are quickly carried outside. These small disruptions are scarcely noticed. I wonder, sadly, how churches in North American seem to have strayed so far from the fundamental recognition that children are a special gift from God and our collective responsibility. During his earthly life, Christ made it abundantly clear that he does not consider small children a nuisance. The sanctity of the worship service is not diminished by their presence. In fact, without them, the Body of Christ is not complete.

When we are old, let’s hope that our grown-up children don’t conclude that caring for the elderly is just another lifestyle choice. When I am ninety years old, I might have a tendency to make clicking sounds with my dentures, insist on bringing my old afghan to keep my knees warm, be slightly forgetful, and speak out at the wrong moments in the service. I hope, however, that I still will be welcome in church and not exiled to the chapel of a senior center or nursing home. I fear though, that the children of today who grow up with so little experience of the weekly gatherings of the church community (including Bible study) with all their human noise and inconvenience, will see no reason why they should tolerate the presence of the vulnerable elderly any more than they should tolerate the presence of the very young.

More proof hereditary monarchy degrades morals

The incidence of injury from drunken pub brawls in England is so high that the government there funded the development of shatter-proof pint glasses.

Like a dove

"...and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him...." (Matthew 4:16)

"...immediately he saw the heavens opening and the Spirit descending on him like a dove." (Mark 1:10)

"...and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove...." (Luke 4:22)

"'I saw the Spirit descend from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him.'" (John 1:32)

Since I follow a lectionary from Advent through Pentecost, I annually contemplate the baptism of our Lord. The narratives suggest, and many people often assumed, that when the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus, his body was that of a dove. However, as several commentators observe, the texts uniformly state that the Spirit's descent was like that of a dove, not that the Spirit took on the form of a dove. The closest an Evangelist gets to describing the Spirit's appearance is in Luke 4:22; even there, the most one could say is that the Spirit looked like a dove. "Like" becomes a sort of veil, obscuring the Spirit's appearance.

Why was the Spirit, when he spoke through the Evangelists, so scrupulous about avoiding a plain description of his appearance when he descended and alighted on Jesus? The best explanation I've been able to come up with is the Second Commandment; that is, a clear description of God the Spirit's appearance is denied us (just as we never get a clear description of God the Son's Incarnate appearance) in order to keep us from constructing images to aid us in our prayers, meditations, and worship.

But you can see "The Road" (if you're a sissy)

So I saw the movie version of The Road at a special preview screening for pastors (more on that when I feel like ranting). Interestingly, I found it less disturbing than the book. One reason for this is that even a two-hour film cannot convey the impression of weariness and long-suffering which a novel (even one not much over 200 pages) can. It just moved too quickly to get under one's skin. Additionally, at least one of the most horrifying vignettes was left out. This is disappointing from a thematic perspective, since it provided a counterpoint to the relationship of the main characters. (And no, I'm not going to tell you what it was. I have some sense of decency left.)

The real absence, however, was McCarthy's prose. His lean style creates the false impression he is merely describing situations and events which can then be captured on film. But the style itself creates a framework for interpretation.

Once again, a major book but a minor film.

To lack heart

The phrase "one who lacks heart" to describe a class of fool first shows up about two-thirds of the way through the prologue to Proverbs (Proverbs 1-9), and then occasionally through the rest of the book. I find the phrase particularly evocative, if somewhat elusive. It suggests the fool is lacking some essential component of personality, or even humanity. If "heart, soul, strength" refers to the whole person (Deuteronomy 6:5), then the fool, by his wicked choices, has rendered himself incapable of loving the Lord.

Make of that suggestion what you like, but I think you'll agree the expression is challenging and provokes reflection and meditation, as the Proverbs are intended to do. I'm disappointed, then, to turn to the standard English versions and find they choose to translate "one who lacks heart" as "one without understanding." I think that's true, to be sure, but I also think that unnecessarily limits the range of meaning and association possible in the original choice of words.

This is an excellent illustration of my major complaint against paraphrase in Bible translations (especially those claiming to be literal, "essentially" or otherwise). The practice shuts out legitimate interpretive options and deprives the reader of the Scriptures' literary richness.

The NT reads the OT

As I work through the Proverbs, commentators are quick to note that the eschatological expectations of the Jews before the time of Christ are not well understood, and that we ought not read the New Testament expectations of life after death into the Old Testament. Reading Hebrews and 1 Corinthians, however, it seems to me the New Testament reads its expectations of life after death out of the Old Testament.

The End of Materialism

Peter Leithart provides a provocative summary of James Le Fanu's Why Us?: How Science Rediscovered the Mystery of Ourselves over on his blog. Turns out science may not have the answers to all of life's persistent questions.

Agnes has discovered my business plan

Marriage, Morality, and Culture

R.R. Reno has a thoughtful reflection on "Marriage, Morality, and Culture" over at the First Things website. Read the whole thing, and be inspired to do so by his concluding paragraphs:

It is sociologically incoherent to imagine that we can both radically redefine marriage and transfer its “transcendent, cultural, and social significance” to same-sex couples, as if the former does not alter and undermine the later.

We cannot make culture serve our desires—or our ideals for that matter. We cannot turn traditional modes of moral discipline such as marriage into a ready resource for conferring feelings of normalcy or equality. To consciously modify the moral norms of moral institutions such as marriage turns them into something else: existential decoration, imaginary seriousness, or an engineered garment of meaning that cannot help but feel plastic and artificial. A bespoke “transcendent, cultural, and social significance” is ephemeral and short lived.