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Tuesday, January 6, 2004 9:28 AM
have a blessed Epiphany
http://communiquejournal.org/q5_epiphany.html

Monday, January 5, 2004 1:55 PM
What me blog?

Sorry it's been so long. For all I know, no one is reading this anyways :) Since I've written last, I have:
+caught up with a good friend from college. (See below)
+ seen Return of the King. Thrice. No kidding.
+ changed my hair color. Twice. No kidding.
+ fallen in love with throwing pottery on a wheel. (more on the topic soon)
+ finished the Hauerwas book.
+ started reading The Magician's Nephew to my oldest 2 children.
+ started re-reading The Fellowship of the Ring (4th time through is a charm).
+ finished "Elfa-ing" my master bedroom closet
+ read Thomas A Kempis' Imitation of Christ

Here's a nice overview of Catching Up With Erik Barton, provided in the words of Erik Barton himself:

Erik writes in his blog today:

"...I took a one day trip to Austin to visit a good friend from my college days, Paul Soupiset. He’s the friend that encouraged me to embark on this whole online journal thing.  (Here’s his blog.) I haven’t seen him in at least five years, but whenever we get together it seems like we instantly click. So when I found out he had a free afternoon, I jumped at the chance to see him. It was worth the 8 hour drive.

I left early in the morning to meet Paul for lunch at a little taco bar in a trendy district of Austin.  Paul and I both went through the same, rigorous, legalistic discipleship program in college.  The program was exactly what we needed as young Christians away from the structure of our families for the first time, zealous to know and live the Absolute Truth. Since college, we have both subsequently struggled to make our faiths genuine and reflective of the real world in which we live. Paul is an artist, and I’m a scientist, but it is remarkable to me how similar our spiritual paths have been.

Both of us came to be heavily influenced by postmodern, or anti-modern, thinking.  We were trained diligently in the ways of modern, logical, intellectual Christianity in college.

I assume Paul was introduced to postmodernism through the arts.  I was introduced to it while co-teaching a course on science and religion in graduate school. If you’re not familiar with the terms modernism or postmodernism, I can give you a quick primer. Modernism is the approach to human knowledge also known as foundationalism, and it assumes that human knowledge works up from the foundation of sensory data of the real world, building an accurate picture of that world within the mind of the thinking observer.  Modernism assumes that this process of knowledge is reliable, independent of culture, and results in an absolute understanding of the world that is objective and not subjective.  Scientists are famous for thinking this way.  René Descartes, mister “I think, therefore I am,” is considered the intellectual father of modernism. We are Cartesian brains in boxes, interacting with the real world through our infallible senses, guided by reliable logic.  (Can you hear Spock’s voice?).

Here's a great quote on [absolute truth] versus [absolute knowledge]: "Five senses; an incurably abstract intellect; a haphazardly selective memory; a set of preconceptions and assumptions so numerous that I can never examine more than a minority of them -- never become even conscious of them all. How much of total reality can such an apparatus let through?" -C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed, p.74.

Postmodernism is in almost every way a revolt against this view of knowledge (or art, for that matter.)  The postmodernist claims that everything we think we know is actually relative to our social context--that views of morality, beauty, and even science are so heavily influenced by context that any claim to Absolute Truth must be met with Absolute Skepticism.  I know this may sound rather extreme--and many postmodernist philosophers do take this to ridiculous limits--but the thinkers behind this movement have some really relevant things to say. Even in the case of science, the postmodern revolution has pointed out some areas where scientists are so heavily influenced by cultural forces that it is difficult to claim they are studying the universe in an unbiased fashion. I still think they are studying the universe, but sometimes they study certain aspects of it to the irrational exclusion of others, thereby giving us a slanted, inaccurate view of the world. And I firmly believe that the more a subject is removed from the data of our senses--the more abstract it is--the more prone to cultural contextual biases it becomes. And religion is about as removed from the data of our senses as a topic can get--the raison d’etre of this entire website.

So both Paul and I have both struggled, over the past several years, to understand how to relate to a God that we must encounter using our flawed methods of human knowing. The idea of boldly approaching God through the Bible seemed ridiculous, fraught as the process of interpreting such a text is.  We both, I think, floundered for a bit. Then, the final blow for me was the problem of genetic suffering--but you know that story.

As Paul and I sat over lunch and caught one another up on our journey’s, Paul asked me an unexpected question.  “In your struggle over the past few years, Erik,  have there been any bright points, any moments of hope?”  I paused, and then almost immediately gave an answer that  surprised me but that I also knew was absolutely true.  But it’s late, and I’ll save that answer for tomorrow."

Wednesday, December 3, 2003 2:30 PM
Music has bumped up in my life recently; painting has flagged. This happens to me a lot. For a season, I'll be "into" something (painting, poetry, art, whatever), and then it'll be gone again, just like that. You can't tell from the chunky-looking photo below, but I've actually lost 20 pounds now. 139 down to 119. So I have 19 pounds to go, the way I see it. It's going to be a long, slow 19 pounds.

The Jazz Protagonists release their CD tonight, officially; but I got to hear it last night. I am halrfway through a review, which I'll post as well.

Still working on the Hauerwas book. I got all the way through the James and Niebuhr chapters. I'm well into Barth.

Wednesday, December 3, 2003 11:23 AM
http://www.jonh.net/~jonh/2003.12.02-knba-world-cafe.mp3

Tuesday, November 18, 2003 4:17 PM
So much has happened recently, blogreaders. I went to see Bruce Cockburn in Austin (La Zona Rosa again), and I layed down some mandolin and background vocal tracks for Chris Taylor's new CD. It was fun getting back in the studio again. Made me start planning my next release. On the 11th I was part of a design panel discussion talking about awards and the ADDYs and the like. Fluff. bad food. Finished the design for a friend's CD on Thursday, and on Friday saw a DVD of the original Matrix. I had the kids this weekend; Amy was in Wisconsin. That was fun. Kate is potty-training. Nuff said.

i got a little further in the Hauerwas book. I'm knee deep in the 20th century liberal theology of Neibuhr, and it looks kind of cheesy. But Barth looms ahead.

Lord of the Rings. Can't wait.

Oh, and I saw Elf for fun. a cute flick.

See nice dragonfly mic in photo to right.

Tuesday, November 11, 2003 6:49 PM
I am so messed up. So are you, i know.

we are all messed up, eh?

now playing: 10,000 Maniacs: More Than This

current reading: Stanley Hauerwas, With the Grain of the Universe: The Church's Witness and Natural Theology. Per amazon, "This volume comprises Hauerwas' Gifford Lectures. Adopting his robust approach to theological questions, Hauerwas here proposes that natural theology divorced from a full doctrine of God cannot help but distort the character of God and, accordingly, of the world in which human beings find themselves. For Hauerwas, those who bear crosses work "with the grain of the universe." As the author sees it, the God who is worshipped and the world God created cannot be truthfully known without the cross,..."

current reading: Stories of Emergence: Moving from Absolute to Authentic

Tuesday, November 11, 2003 5:35 PM
Hello. My name is Paul Soupiset. I am messy. <clap, clap, welcome paul>

Which is better: my piles of stuff in my office? Or someone else’s embarrassingly devoid-of-passion crisp right-angled existence? the middle ground of subtle clutter? is that the best? are a mismash of posters and aesthetic junk in an office somehow worse than perfectly untouched spaces? Is my pile of paper better than a misplaced coffee ground or a collection of empty beer glasses because the organic material in books/paper decomposes slower than these foodstuffs?

Why does dirt bother some people so much? Which would bother you more: an accidentally-tossed -and-missed banana peel that is found behind a trashcan after a few days, or the time wasted worrying about it? How about using that time to better one’s self at, say, creativity? or putting the same calories to use cleaning it up, servant-like (and not talking about it later)...

Dirt. That’s the stuff of life. Try Guatemala. Try inner-city New Orleans alleyways. Try Bangladesh. Buttoned-up faith says cleanliness is next to godliness. It’s extrabiblical.** God created order out of chaos, yeah, sure, but in the Person of Christ he also had compassion of the masses, choosing to live amidst the dirt, muck and mire. Wanna be Mary or Martha? I’d rather be the one clocking time at the master’s feet than the one cleaning the kitchen.

I quote John Nelson: “While we may like neatness and efficiency, life is always ambiguous and does not provide order and neat solutions.... [We] will “. . . find ourselves banging, clanging and sorting through the junk for the creative solutions that will provide stability and meaning for us in the 21st century.”

Grace has everything to with it.

**Probably 2nd century by Rabbi Phinehas ben-Yair.

Monday, November 3, 2003 4:43 PM
I bought my first firewire hard drive today. I know, I know. Control yourselves. but I'm kind of intrigued.
160GB LaCie.

I also finally wrote those reviews for Cycling and Mudhouse Sabbath

Cycling
Greg Garrett

Greg Garrett's redemptive second novel, Cycling, sets readers smack-dab in Waco, Texas during a scorching 1993 summer and artfully follows stuck-in-a-rut cyclist Brad Cannon through a first-person account of seasonal, emotional, recreational, and spiritual "cycles" that span the course of a year.

Cannon's passions are centered around his daily rural bicycle treks, which offer an escape from his past and allow him to avoid the risk of furthering his stalled writing career. His love interests and family members are kept in tow as he weaves a fictional life that accomodates and alienates them, but he is ultimately unable to sustain his balance. Life gets in the way.

Garrett's brand of literary realism offers crisp details: the barking dogs lurching at a blur of bicycle spokes, the Mexican Coca Colas Hector Portillo sells in his midtown store, the levity and gravity found amidst friends wrangling 900 pounds of dry-weight concrete, and a defunct East Waco soul food café called Martha's. Through all this he allows his characters to find their skin within his photorealistic microcosm. More importantly, he tells a great story.

Throughout the narrative, the shifting weather patterns (important for any cyclist) help plot the story's trajectory. Overheard song lyrics serve as a Greek chorus commenting on the state of the characters. The folks that interact with Cannon are birthed from a rich intersection of genteel Southern life, Western American culture, and the Baptist/Christian subculture that is so much a part of Waco. Even bit characters are presented in such a way that you believe each one has their own novel waiting to be excavated.

The payoff is a fun and surprising ending that conveys an unmistakable (yet complex) grace, much like the final scenes of Garrett's first novel, Free Bird. Cycling stands as an inventive — at times gripping — ride, and is one of the few books that this reviewer has ever devoured in a single sitting.

Mudhouse Sabbath
Lauren F. Winner

In Girl Meets God, Lauren Winner brought her readers a enjoyable account of life as a twentysomething Christian woman converted from Judaism; in Mudhouse Sabbath she wonderfully brings to light many ways in which the praxis of her Christianity is informed and enriched by the rich practices of her Jewish background. She reminds us that "Practice is to Judaism what belief is to Christianity."

In a beautifully designed book from Paraclete Press, Winner reflects with fond yearning on eleven facets of Judaism, ranging from the Sabbath (shabbat) to hospitality (hachnassat orchim) and prayer (tefillah); from fasting (hiddur p'nai zaken) to candle-lighting (hadlakat nerot) and the artistry of mezuzah doorpost reminders.

Winner points out in her introduction that, "the spiritual disciplines... can form us as Christians throughout our lives." Toward that end, she takes these eleven timeless forms — devoting a chapter to each — and expands her readers' knowledge of scriptural and midrashic reasons for the various observances and traditions. She then views the disciplines through her insightful and personal lens, focusing on the ways her past is shaping her present Christian journey.

As 21st century Christianity moves from knowledge toward pragmatism, and as headlines turn toward daily Middle Eastern tensions, Mudhouse Sabbath gracefully returns our thoughts to the beautiful practices that God's People have quietly undertaken for thousands of years.

Wednesday, October 29, 2003 3:39 PM
Heck, what a beautful week. Sorry, no time to catch you all up. Love and Rockets, paul

Friday, October 24, 2003 1:50 PM
What a beautiful day.
No one should have to work on a day like today.

Thursday, October 23, 2003 1:51 PM
I almost forgot to mention. Today is my grandmother's birthday. 86. That's amazing. 86. I snuck up on her with a bouquet of flowers today at Crumpet's -- a little bistro she likes on the N.E. side of town. I had heard from my Mom that Nanny was meeting her best friend MaryLou for lunch there. I prayed (literally) that it would be during the 12:00 hour. I took a gamble and sped over. She was surprised. It made her day. And mine. It was one of those small little prayers that gets answered. The chances of timing that intersection was risky, but it happened without flaw. I had enough time to meet Amy for lunch at Twin Sisters. Chicken Lime Soup is awesome at Twin Sisters, as is their Greek Salad (hold the cucumbers, please).

Thursday, October 23, 2003 1:43 PM
In the words of Inigo Montoya: "Let me 'splain. [pause] No, there is too much. Let me sum up."*
Yesterday at lunchtime, I got an ill-fated phonecall. From Amy. Seems that Jordan had a possibly-broken finger from playing football at recess. I spent the second half of Wednesday driving J-Bird to the E.R., hanging out during triage (I came equipped with the iPod for Jordan), and waiting through a lonnnnnngg X-Ray session. We all knew there was only one affected finger, but they insisted on X-Raying the whole hand, in a variety of poses that were irrelevant to the finger in question. I almost lost it. But it was a great time for talking to Jordan. It's not that often that a father has 3 or 4 hours of task-free, chore-free, discipline-free Talking Time to just bond with his son.
*By the way, for a fun, mindless Star Wars meets Princess Bride send-up, click here. To wit:

"Hello. My name is Luke Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
"Stop saying that!" Vader screamed.
"HELLO. My name is Luke Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."
"You idiot! No one killed your father! But if you continue, I assure you he will soon be dead."
"What do you mean?"
"Luke, my name is Vader Montoya. I am your father."

Monday, October 20, 2003 9:39 AM
Bravo Eric! One of my good friends — the kind where, through fits and starts, you manage to catch up with no m ore than once a year and yet it feels like you've never left? — yeah, that kind... anyway, his blog is up and running. VirusDoc. I can't wait.... http://virusdoc.net/html/soliloquies.html

Since several of you asked, the diet is going fine. I am still on zero fried foods, zero breads, pastas, rice, etc.; and severely limiting my sugars. Gone are the comfort foods with which I surrounded myself. I have realized my bathroom scale is not the world's most accurate, but it gives me the ballpark, and plots trajectories. I've lost somewhere in the range of twelve to fourteen pounds since Monday, September 29, 2003. I'm sticking with it, which is the bottom line. Love handles have diminished. Jowl and double chin fading according to those close to me. But I still feel like I was cheated out of my thin guy's body somewhere around 1990.

Friday, October 17, 2003 1:59 PM
Ever have one of those days when everyone misunderstands you, you're late to every engagement, you can't quite do anything with your usual clarity, thought, intent or whatever? Yup. That's my today. Since I found my 5GB iPod again, I've been a happy man. I'm going to restart the digitization process of all my tunes. I really need to buy my own external HD. Firewire. They're cheap now.

Wednesday, October 15, 2003 11:52 PMI'm still here at work. Please don't ask me why. I'm going home now to sleep for a few hours.

Wednesday, October 15, 2003 8:28 AM
Getting coffee. Well, here we are. Autumn finally came to San Antonio today — or rather last night — in a speedy fashion. It's a beautiful bright-sun sort of autumn as well, where the crisp morning holds shafts of blinding light that illuminate dust in the air and when you get in your car the steering wheel is cold to the touch for the first time in a half a year, and you remember that finding the kids' jackets on the way to school always takes a few more minutes. We were almost late this morning because I had to find my geologist's field pick/hammer combo thing, and it wasn't in the mini garage like I thought it was. Jordan required archaeology tools for a field trip (one that it looks like I'm unable to attend now..) But no hammer... That means a traipse out to the Barn. Which meant a walk through dewy grass that left me shoes and the cuffs of my pants soaked. I shouldn't complain. Once in the Barn, I rummaged through the Rubbermaid trashcan where I keep a lot of my Tools With Handles, but it wasn't there either. Then I tried a milk crate full of camping gear. The expanded plastic allowed me to spin the box 360¾ and see that it wasn't inside.... Next I found a really heave backpack full of camping gear. Somehow, on my last campout, I managed to stuff the aforementioned hammer, a mini hatchet, a combination pick/hammer/shovel novelty tool, and a plastic dropcloth inside one medium sized backpack. In any case, I grabbed the hammer, and threw a couple of rusted-out wood chisels together with a toothbrush I use for weathering model trains. Together, it made a nice little junior archaeologist's kit. So that's why I was almost — but not quite — late this morning.

christus victor

paul