Written in the Wind...

In the dark of night, a man came to visit Jesus.  This man’s fears kept him from seeking the Lord in the daylight, but his burning issues needed to be addressed.  As Jesus listened and answered the questions of Nicodemus, he used the wind to describe the Spirit of God:  "The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going” (John 3:8).

This image reminds me of the mystery I noticed as I hiked in Acadia National Park.  The forest can be so still and silent; then suddenly a whoosh of wind sways the trees and whispers across the hills.  This is unpredictable and oftentimes when the wind is strong it brings quick changes in the weather.  One never knows when this rushing force will come moving through the pines, bringing rain or snow, but a good hiker is always attentive to its movement.

Pentecost is the feast of the mysterious movement of God.  Each year, it is an invitation to be attentive once more to God’s presence in our lives.  The Spirit of God came as unexpectedly as the wind in the mountains upon the followers of Jesus.  A rushing wind created life-changing effects in them.  In that upper room, people who had been terrorized by their own fears suddenly experienced an immense freedom and a deep sense of God’s life within them.  It was uncontrolled and unplanned, the last thing their sad and fearful hearts ever expected.  With the rushing wind came a surge of courageous and creative energy that hadn’t been seen there before.

In the chaos, the Spirit of God came with an energy beyond their boldest imagination.  This coming changed their attitudes and motivated them with enthusiasm and hope.  They moved from being weak and discouraged to being people with inner vitality.  They discovered a dynamic power of love and a new determination to live what Jesus had proclaimed to them.

We need to stay attuned to the movement of the Spirit if we are to hear the call to transformation and deeper growth.  My Pentecosts are rarely large, powerful gales; rather, they are usually like little gusts that change my life a little at a time.  Like the rushing wind of Pentecost, however, they have often been unpredictable and unexpected.

I can take for granted the smaller breezes if I am not deliberately attentive to them.  It is easy to dismiss these moments of transformation, either because I am too busy or because I do not recognize the activity of the Divine.

Where is God?  In the still, small voice.  Sometimes, in the gentle breeze... 

S.O.
Vigil of Pentecost

Praying: a Poem

It doesn’t have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just

pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try

to make them elaborate, this isn’t

a contest but a doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

Mary Oliver

Confessions from the Asylum - The Great Gatsby

Oh, how I miss the insight and wisdom of Roger Ebert these days, especially when films like Gatsby appear.  Had he reviewed it, he probably would have given it 2 1/2 stars.

The Great Gatsby is an epic melodrama that fuses old-movie theatrics,  period music and modern pop, real sets and unreal landscapes, psychological drama and slapstick on steroids.  We see the book's Prohibition-era settings (East Egg and West Egg, New York City, and the wasteland in between) through the eyes of the narrator, Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire), who's writing a memoir- a confession from an asylum.  The plethora of CGI special effects is interesting, sometimes effective, and, at times, annoying.

DiCaprio's Gatsby is the movie's greatest and simplest special effect: an illusion mainly accomplished through body language and voice. On the printed page, the character is so mysterious, so much a projection of the book's narrator, that you'd think he'd be as unplayable onscreen.  The actor's choices drive home the idea that Gatsby is playing the man he wishes he were, and that others need him to be. We see the calculations behind his eyes, but we also believe that he could hide them from the other characters — most of them, anyway.

DiCaprio's acting evokes Nick's description of the human personality as "an unbroken series of successful gestures." It's as if he can see and hear for miles and read people's thoughts and feelings.  DiCaprio plays these moments with a mix of inscrutability and delight, as if Gatsby knows something we don't, but is too clever to say precisely what. (He could play Superman.)

 When Gatsby's deceptions are revealed and his illusions shattered, DiCaprio becomes at once terrifying and pathetic, a false idol toppling himself from his pedestal. In his final moment of realization, DiCaprio's blue eyes match the blue of Gatsby's pool, and his anguished face, has a ghastly beauty. It's an excellent performance.

The rest of the cast is nearly as impressive. Nick Carraway is almost as much of an abstraction as Gatsby — an audience surrogate, with touches of The Nice Guy Betrayed — but Maguire humanizes him, just as DiCaprio does Gatsby. There is an abiding sadness to this character....

Stunningly beautiful Carey Mulligan is just right as Daisy Buchanan.  When she flirts, the famous description of the character having "a voice like money" nearly makes sense — but the film doesn't idealize her, as Gatsby and Nick often seem to. Daisy is a complex character. 

The sound track is interesting and varied, traditional and contemporary.  Especially effective is the hypnotic voice of Lana Del Rey singing Young and Beautiful.  I also loved the homage to Gershwin.

There were times when I wished director Luhrmann had made a smaller, more intimate movie.  The film's like a guest at a wild gathering who finds the noise and frenzy tiresome and would much rather be at home reading, but can't let on because he's supposed to be the life of the party.

Steven D. Olson

Burying the Dead

The controversy over the burial of marathon bomber, Tamerlan Tsarnaev, illustrates the difficulty we have at times in coming to terms with the Gospel of Jesus Christ and how hard it can be to put our faith into practice.

On an emotional level, it is understandable that cemetery owners in Massachusetts declined to bury the body of this criminal.  The Tsarnaev brothers are among the most hated people in America.

But in the end, it took the efforts of a Methodist, Martha Mullen, who reached out to ecumenical contacts and was successful in persuading a Muslim community in Virginia—Al-Barzakh—to bury the terrorist’s body.

The action of this Methodist woman  is consistent with Roman Catholic practice, as the Burial of the Dead is one of our cherished Corporal Works of Mercy.

Burying the dead is named with other works of mercy, including feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless and visiting the sick.

It is one thing to memorize these acts of mercy as students in Religious Education programs.  It is another thing to transcend our fear and rage in order to do the right thing.

Jesus of Nazareth would have hated the sin, but buried the sinner.

The Methodists and the Muslims in Virginia did the right thing.

Steven Olson