Category: Musings

One Chapter Ends; A New Chapter Begins

Published by mhelbert on August 1, 2013

Our family has spent the last week cleaning out Dad’s house so that we can sell it. He’ll never be able to move back there. His dementia has settled that issue. He must have 24/7 care. We are unable to provide that care for him. So, he will spend the remainder of his sojourn here in a skilled facility.

We have tried to be careful. So much stuff! So many memories! We have excavated through the layers, each one revealing a sight, a sound, a smell retrieved from the deep recesses of our memories. Laughter and tears originating decades ago rush back and live again in our minds. We found special papers. Baptism certificates for Mom and Dad. Their marriage license and original typed Last Will and Testament. There were the adoption papers for my brother and me. Our own “Ancestry.Com” in a small accordion shaped box. My mother’s jewelry had to be sorted. And, still, almost three years after her passing, we found a cabinet full of her old medications. There were shoes and boots, scarves and other clothing that belonged to her. Dad never could say goodbye. He allowed her ghost to live with him; comforting him.

As their lives piled up in the living room awaiting relocation, I began to wonder how more than 8 decades of life could be reduced to this. I remember being 4 years old and ‘helping’ dad build a fence around our backyard. We would walk to the lake where he taught me to fish and skip stones. Mom would make the world’s best cinnamon rolls. They were small; small enough for my preschooler size fingers to hold onto. Through many years we experienced joy and sorrow. Yet, they gave my brother and me a good life. We have so much to be grateful for. And, now…I gaze on what’s left. I never expected a huge legacy from them. Dad always told me that he made a lot of money, and he spent a lot of money. He lived by that old adage, “you can’t take it with you.”

Yet, that doesn’t make standing over these leftovers from their lives any easier for me. I don’t know. Maybe, it’s because Dad is still with us. I have a recurring fear that he will suddenly become lucid and want to go home. “Uh, Dad…I’ve got some bad news…” But, that will not happen. Besides, he is happy in his new home with his other ‘roommates.’

I guess I shouldn’t feel too badly. After all, this is how they would want us to handle their things. We have to inspect every knick-knack. All of the papers and clutter from Dad’s desk need to be opened and read. We will touch, see, and smell the lives of these two people over and over again. We will laugh, like when my wife found a box of Viagra. And, we will cry as we feel the weight of the years pressing down on us. The dishes that my grandmother passed on to my mom have found yet another temporary home with us. Eventually, they will move along to another generation. Mom and Dad will live on in us, our children, and their children. The thread drawn from the spool, pulled ever forward.

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Thanks a lot,Plato!

Published by mhelbert on July 16, 2013

A few days ago I was reflecting on something that happened many years ago. At that time I worked as a sound tech for a Christian band. The band was pretty good and we played fairly regularly in our region of the country. There was always plenty of energy and I made sure that no one had any trouble hearing it. (Oh, yeah…play loud!) Before every show I had to take time to make the sound fit the house. I would use a pink noise generator and ‘pink’ the room to set the system equalization. Then, because pink noise generators are stupid and can’t hear, I would play various songs from CDs I carried in order to get the EQ just right. I chose music that had a wide dynamic range so that I could make the necessary adjustments across the frequency spectrum. I did not choose the songs for their content. My ears didn’t care about content, they cared about frequencies. One time before a show, one of the guys told me that I should use “Christian” music for that. After all, we were supposed to be a “Christian” band and someone might be offended by Chick Corea. This posed a dilemma for me. Would I do my job with the tools I was familiar with…that would give me known results? Or, should I follow the suggestion of my friend?

This is a small example of something that has been troubling me for years. What is the so-called secular/spiritual dualism that we seem to accept without question? Where did it originate? Is God behind it?

These questions cannot be completely answered in a blog post. But, perhaps I can throw some wood on the fire in order to cast some light on our considerations.

As I understand things, the Semitic worldview that spawned the Jewish and Christian scriptures, and into which Jesus was born, was not a dualistic worldview. For them, creation was a single whole. God had created it for the enjoyment of all of God’s creatures and it was good. God was One unity. There were no other true Gods, and God was not divided. The most important part of a Jewish prayer service is called the Shema. It begins, “Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord is one!” To suggest that God could be divided would have been blasphemy to them. Humanity, likewise, was considered a unified whole. In the beginning of their story, God formed a human from the “dust of the ground” and breathed life into it, causing it to become a “living soul.” No division…a singular living being. So, how did we wind up with so much division, and factions, today?

I think that the root of this can be traced to the ancient Greeks, particularly Plato. Plato was perhaps the greatest thinker of his age. Living from 429–347 B.C.E., his influence has transcended the centuries. One of his chief tenets was that what we see and understand here, in the visible universe, is not true reality. When we see a tree, it is a somewhat defective representation of a ‘real’ tree that exists in some perfect realm. This idea is especially important when we consider more abstract concepts like ‘goodness’ and ‘beauty.’ Things that we consider good and beautiful derive these characteristics from the truly Good and Beautiful. What’s important to see here is that the so-called ‘ultimate’ object that we cannot see is perfect and superior to the derivative and defective ‘penultimate’ object that is visible and understandable to us. Ok, enough philosophy 101…my head hurts.

The early Christian church grew out of Judaism, to be sure. But, its development was deeply embedded in the Greco-Roman worldview of that time. Its roots grew deeply into the rich soil of the northern Mediterranean region where Greek culture and philosophy fertilized the tender shoot. It was inevitable that Platonic thought would influence the Church’s development.

“Ok, Helbert…so what? What does all of that have to do with playing Chick Corea?” I’m glad that you asked! Platonism, or more accurately, neo-Platonism is the life-blood that courses through the whole of Western thought and culture. We have learned to quantify and qualify our entire universe. We have the ability to mentally compartmentalize every facet of our lives. All thanks to our friend Plato. What interests us here is that Plato provided a qualitative aspect to our existence that, I don’t believe, actually exists. His premise seems to rest on the fact that the ‘ultimate’ is good; the penultimate is defective. For us, that translates into that which is spiritual/godly is good; that which is earthly/fleshly is bad. We can then make judgments between the spiritual and secular that are, at best, distorted.

In the beginning God formed a unified whole. Yes, there were many parts. But, there are many parts to any single system, be it a human being or a butterfly. For those who want to keep the spiritual and the secular separate, just remember that there is only One Who is good. That One is Yahweh. Everything else is created. And, Yahweh declared that it is all good.

Mine is only one opinion. What do you think?

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Forgiveness…For You and Me

Published by mhelbert on July 15, 2013

Forgiveness. That’s a strange word in today’s culture. I don’t think many of us really know what that word means. I’m sure we don’t understand the power that lies embedded within it. Someone hurts us and apologizes, “I’m sorry.” Our usual response is “That’s OK, no worries.” Is that offering forgiveness for the wrong? Or, is it simply a gloss that social convention has decided can amicably fix things? I think the latter is closer to the heart of things. And, I think it falls woefully short. Any discussion about relationships must necessarily take a trip through forgiveness.

There’s a story about a woman who was unfaithful to her husband. Apparently, she was caught doing the nasty with the other man. I don’t know who caught her. Maybe it was her husband. Maybe, it was a nosy neighbor. In any case, she was taken to the local assembly where she was accused of breaking their law. This all male council decided to use her as a test case for an upstart young teacher. “Let’s see what the hotshot new guy has to say.” So, they gathered her up in the best angry mob style they could muster and hurried her off to stand before the ‘judge.’

When they arrived, they pushed the woman to the front and brought their accusations. “This woman was caught in the act of adultery. Our law states that she must be put to death. What do you say?” The young man took this all very seriously. He stooped down and began to doodle in the dirt. The mob, growing impatient, continued to press for an answer. Finally, he stood and faced them. I think that he may have looked a tad exasperated with this group of men. “Ok…if there is anyone, anyone at all among you who has never fallen short. Who has never wronged another person. Who has never made a bad decision. Who has never…sinned. Let that person throw the first stone.” He then went back to his doodling. The story tells us that one by one, from the eldest to the youngest, each walked away. Finally, there was only the woman and the young teacher. The man stood and looked around. “Where’d everyone go? Isn’t there anyone left to accuse you?” “No sir,” she replied. “No one.” The young man responded to her, “Then neither do I. Go, now, and don’t do this thing anymore.”

The word ‘forgive’ is nowhere in this story. Some folks may even say that forgiveness isn’t even the main point. But, I see this brief account filled to overflowing with mercy and forgiveness. This woman had indeed broken the law. There were witnesses. She had incurred a debt that required her life to repay. The mob was ready to exact payment. I can’t even begin to imagine what was going through that woman’s mind. Panic? Anxiety? Remorse? I’m sure those and much more. “What would this young teacher say? After all, he is a man! Will he join these others to condemn me?”

The teacher’s response must have been puzzling to her as well as her accusers. Didn’t he know how grave this situation was? His nonchalant attitude was troubling. But, then he stood. He raised his voice so all could hear. And, in so many words, declared everyone guilty. Yet, he passed no judgment against them. He allowed their own consciences to do that. After the accuser left, he rose and again looked into the woman’s eyes. With compassion in his eyes and his voice, he spoke and refused to make her to pay her debt.

The language of the Bible allows us to understand forgiveness as setting aside or dismissing a debt. That’s why the Pater Noster in Matthew is translated “Forgive our debts even as we have forgiven the debts of others.” In this story Jesus, the young teacher, dismissed the woman’s debt. She was no longer liable for it. We are not told anything else about this person or those who accused her. Did she go home to her husband? Did he take her back? What of that mob? We simply don’t know. That’s what makes this a great story. We are allowed to imagine all the many possibilities and outcomes. One thing that I’m pretty sure of, that woman, who had been forgiven much, most likely had her heart enlarged and learned to love much. I can see her telling her friends at the well how that young teacher had poured out compassion on her. She, now, would be able to pour out compassion on others. That, I think, is the point of forgiveness. It frees the one forgiven to forgive others…including themselves.

How have you experience forgiveness from others? From God? From your own self?

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Shame on Me

Published by mhelbert on July 10, 2013

Relationships are difficult for me. To begin with, most of the time I’m far more comfortable with books than with people. Books can transport me to other worlds; other eras. They do not have unrealistic expectations of me. Nor, do I of them. We can be friends. People, on the other hand, always have some expectations. They have their own agendas that may or may not be in the best interests of anyone else. These relationships are messy. I don’t like messes. I’m not comfortable sharing my space with others. Over the years I’ve constructed thick barriers around myself in order to protect me from the mess, the hurt and unwanted intrusions that invariably force their way into my life.

Yet, God seems to desire that we humans live within a community. At the very beginning of God’s self-revealing are the words, “It’s not good for humans to be alone.” I find that even in my solitude, my self-willed ‘aloneness,’ there is a place in my heart that desires companionship. Honestly, I try to fight that. I’ve fought hard. There are very few people that I let into my life, my heart, even a little. And, no one with whom I’m totally available to or vulnerable with. But, why? I know some people who seem to have no problems being open with others. They are the ones who can make friends easily. They are the ones who can talk openly about themselves. In some ways I envy them.

I haven’t always been this conflicted. I wrote a little about that here. There was a time when I was a happy kid who trusted people. I enjoyed being with friends playing at the rocky beach of Lake Erie near my home. We built forts in the woods and rode bikes. We raced HO gauge cars and built model airplanes. In those days, I would have never been caught with a book in my hands. I had to be outside with my pals.

As I reflect on this perceived paradox, both desiring solitude and companionship, there is one thing that continues to surface. As time moved forward I began to notice that sometimes the things I said and did hurt others. I found that my tongue was a useful weapon. Without thinking I would unsheathe it and cut someone deeply. And, I felt shame. Shame…that is the one thing that I keep coming back to. One definition of that word is stated as “a painful emotion caused by consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety.” Yeah, I can see that as a ‘catch all’ definition. Whether real or perceived, some word or action causes one to feel guilty. The shame gene kicks in and gives shame the emotional impetus to rise to the top of our consciousness. As Pink Floyd sang, “Another brick in the wall.”

Another definition that I found, however, I think gets closer to the issue. I read this quote on another blog recently. It comes from a book that I’ve not read yet. The author, Brené Brown, wrote in her book Daring Greatly, that shame can be viewed as the “fear of disconnection — it’s the fear that something we’ve done or failed to do, an ideal that we’ve not lived up to, or a goal that we’ve not accomplished makes us unworthy of connection.” Fear? I thought we were talking about shame! I think that Brown has captured something profound. We hide our guilt. The shame emotion drives us to do that. We certainly don’t want anyone else on the planet to know what kinds of nasties are living in our hearts. And, we don’t want our dirty laundry hung up for everyone and anyone to see and judge our uncleanness. So, the fear of losing relationships or the connectedness that God built into humanity causes the shame that covers our guilt. But, shame also builds walls. The very fear of losing our place in the community becomes the thing that breaks community. No wonder I’m such a basket case! I feel like Dr. Doolittle’s pushmi-pullyu.

What to do? Actually, I’m not sure. That’s something that I continue to consider. There are some who would say that I just need to have faith and God will set things right. Besides being an overly simplistic approach, I’ve tried it. It doesn’t help. Others may suggest that confession is good for the soul. Yeah, but confession may also break community. Perhaps, practicing vulnerability. After all, shame tends to make one take great pains to keep from being vulnerable. We’ll look at this later.

What do you think? Are there any folks out there who can relate to these things? Or, am I the only person who has these issues? Please leave a comment and let’s think through this together.

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A Date with Ladyfinch

Published by mhelbert on June 18, 2013

Sitting in my backyard on a warm, summer evening. A good book in my hands and my favorite potent potable on a table next to me. The sun was warm, but not too hot. There were clouds building to the West, harbingers of storms moving in from the western Great Lakes. At this moment, however, all seemed good and right with the world.

As I read, I kept one eye on the bird feeder in the yard. It’s not much. An iron post with two hooks. On one is an Oriole feeder filled with home-made nectar. These beautiful orange and black birds are like so many people, they have an insatiable sweet tooth. One cup of white granulated sugar in six cups of water. Put it out and watch the fun!

On the other hook hangs our seed feeder. A not quite cylindrical glass container with a ‘roof’ and a seed tray into which the seeds flow from three openings under the glass. We get many visitors. Besides the ‘regulars,’ the Sparrows and Grackles, (I can’t get these folks to stay away. They show up and throw the seeds all over the ground), there are Cardinals and Blue Jays. Occasionally, I’ve seen Flickers and Red-Headed Woodpeckers. And, of course, there are the Finches. The two varieties that frequent or buffet are the Goldfinch and the House Finch.

Of these two, the House Finch is the most regular visitor. They usually show up in small groups, a male or two and two to three females. The males have red-hued feathers on their heads and necks. Many times they arrive and bless us with a song before they jump onto the seed tray and collect their wage. Having been a practicing musician, I know how that works. You show up, play and collect your money. These pipers, however, work ‘cheep.’ The coloring of the females is rather non-descript. Browns and grays with some darker streaks. They don’t seem as vocal as the males. But, I’m no ornithologist. My observations are somewhat limited.

On this particular evening, I looked over the top of my book and pulled my readers down on my nose, the better to see the feeder fifteen feet away. A female was sitting in the seed tray looking rather comfortable. This struck me as unusual. Birds commonly land on the feeder and stand on the edge of the seed tray, grab a snack and fly off to enjoy it. Sometimes, they stand in the tray. But, always, they stand. All of these birds are a bit on the skittish side. Standing, they can quickly escape any threat. This female was sitting! Well, at least as near as birds can sit. She quietly nestled herself into the tray and leisurely picked away at the shelled bounty around her. For no less than five minutes we enjoyed the evening together. I, in my lounge chair, she lounging in the feeder. We were like two old acquaintances gathered in a living room. No words were spoken, but communication took place. She told me that she was grateful for the snacks. “This café provides some of the best black sunflower seeds in the neighborhood. Oh, and the millet is to die for!” I told her that she was more than welcome. “I am delighted,” I said, “to offer you the hospitalitie du maison, my dear Ladyfinch.” My still, quiet presence soothed her apprehension and fear. Her presence and posture told me that she felt secure. Even with a human in the room!

In those few moments I experienced a small taste of Creator’s blessing. I imagined a time before time when the Native People roamed this Turtle Island, a world where all of Creator’s children lived in harmony. Ours, however, has become a world of dysfunction and destruction. Fear has leeched into every cell; every molecule. We even fear and war against the sun, moon and stars. The small creatures of the world fear humans and each other. We humans fear the small creatures…and each other. We are afraid that the economy will falter, or worse. Some are paralyzed by a fear of stepping out of their homes.

Has it always been this way? Some say no. They say that there was a paradisiacal garden very long ago. However, humanity, attempting to grasp at the Divine, brought ruin and destruction. Others say that the cosmos has always been a dangerous place. The fears and phobias that we strive with are deeply ingrained in our very DNA from tens of thousands of years of trying to survive. I’m not sure. One thing I am sure of, for about five minutes on a warm, summer evening Ladyfinch and I shared peace and contentment.

What experiences have you had interacting with God’s good creation? What kinds of things cause you to fear? Feel free to comment without fear.

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Where I come from…and a bit about Where I’m Going

Published by mhelbert on June 17, 2013

I’ve been blogging since 2009. Originally, I started it as part of a class that I was taking in seminary on technology and the Church. The blog was to be an integral part of a website I developed. Well, the website was built, but never published. However, I got an ‘A’ in the class, and that was my focus at the time.

Although I only wrote sporadically, I kept the blog open. About a year and a half ago, I had a heart attack. It was serious. In fact, it should have ended my life. Why didn’t it? Providence; a strong body; luck…I’m not sure. As a result, I began to reflect deeply on my life. I suppose that most folks who experience such life altering events do this. For me, it took the shape of looking within myself. I began to get out of bed earlier in order to spend time with God. Over a few months, this time began to grow until I was hopping out of bed at 3:30 A.M. Ok, people think I’m nuts for this, but it is the result of grace, not willpower, I assure you.

I began to query God about my life’s purpose and vocation. You see, I’ve been frustrated with my life. The things I do to get by in this world vex me. I know; I know; I know that what I am doing is not my calling. So, I turned to Creator for answers. The response? “Write. Just, write.” Ok, God, I can do that! Uh, wait…write what?

This is a question that I’m sure many others are asking. If I am to write, what the hell am I supposed to write about? I whined and cried for months about this. “God! You want me to do this, but You aren’t opening the doors for me to accomplish it! Waahhhhh!!!”

Recently, I have begun to dig around a bit. Perhaps, God has planted some seeds that are beginning to germinate. Writers’ websites have become standard daily fare for me. I must know what it takes to build a successful writing career. Yes, I said it…a writing ‘career.’ For over 40 years I’ve been doing something that is not fulfilling and, for lack of better words, a waste of my gifting. I’ve been very successful at doing something I really don’t like. It’s time to start working at something I do.

Back to the Beginning…

Anyway, I digress.

I wrote couple hundred posts. Most of these, ok, all of these were directed toward a specific audience. That audience was the faith community that I had been a part of for most of my adult life. I wrote to challenge that community. But, most of all, I wrote in order to get their approval. The results were disappointing. I got excited over 30 views in a day. Most of the time, it appeared as if no one was out there. ‘Hello! Anybody there?’

Nope, it was just the echo of my own voice reverberating around an empty chamber. I think that the main reason for this was that I was trying to please someone other than myself.

Reflecting…

So, I began to take an assessment of my life. Where did I come from? What has been important to me? Where does my passion really lie? The responses are freeing.

I grew up in the 1960s. It was a time of social and cultural shifts of the tectonic kind. Continents of social convention and propriety were crashing together creating mountains and valleys that would change the course of modern history. And, I was on the ground floor! By the time 1970 rolled around I was an aspiring young freak and rock-n-roll lead guitar player. Those of us at that time were anti-everything. There was no established taboo or moré that was above questioning. Then…I got a job. It wasn’t a great job. But, I had money in my pocket and gas in my car. I began to forget about my rebellious teenage years. There were real rewards for dismissing the idealism of youth. After all, you can’t by food on principles. You need hard currency.

Spirituality

During this same period of time, I had a spiritual experience that sent my life on a new trajectory. I began to believe in a higher power that cared about me. No one else seemed to. I embraced this fledgling spirituality with gusto! I read books, (mostly the Christian Bible), I went to meetings, I offered my music, and I found a community. To receive such a boon was life giving nectar to a culturally estranged young person. In response, I gave myself away. In order to continue to connect and receive the sap from the root, I left my true self somewhere else. You see, for us, that was called ‘dying to self.’ Yeah, Jesus loved us. He just didn’t particularly care for who we were. So, we had to change…conform to something else. In our case, that was to embrace conservative ideology. We read and learned from people like James Dobson, and later Al Mohler and John Piper. We voted Republican. We put away our rock-n-roll and embraced something called Christian Contemporary Music. (Call it what you may…but, “music” is stretching it.) All the while, I found myself drifting further and further from the person that God had made me to be.

Today

Through several events, not the least of which was 5 years in seminary, I have begun to find my way back. It seems that God loves me for who I am, not for who someone else thinks I should be. God loves the rebellious person who pushes back against the accommodations of culture. Creator has imbued me with gifts that no one else has. Gifts that are to be used; placed on a mountain and not under a bushel. So, I have begun a new blog. I am reinventing myself and my presence in the world. I have no one to answer to but God and myself. I’m too old to do anything else. I’ve spent my entire life compromising, no…prostituting, myself to others. No more!

How do you feel about where your life-travels have taken you? Are you frustrated, like I’ve been? Are you content? Please reply to this and let’s talk.

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Welcome to a new Blog Home

Published by mhelbert on June 13, 2013

I’m a writer. I write about what I think is important at the time. I write about stuff that just needs to get out of my heart and head. (This stuff’ll drive you crazy if you don’t let it out!) I write about topics that interest me. I respond to bloggers in other universes. Mostly, I write cuz I gotta write.

For the past few years I’ve been living over at Blogger. It’s been a really great time! But, I think that it’s time to move to new digs. I’ve been reading a lot of blogs, and a vast majority of them swear by WordPress. So, here I am. As time goes on I’ll add some fun stuff…widgets and images and stuff to make this a tad homey-er.

I’ve imported my posts from Blogger so that they may be readily available for you or me. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time. Feel free to scroll through them. They will give you a better idea of who I am.

Hopefully, on this leg of my journey I’ll get the chance to meet you.

Won’t you take a minute to introduce yourself. Join in the conversation and let’s write!

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How the Holy Spirit can show up anywhere.

Published by mhelbert on May 28, 2013

This past Sunday I went with my wife to the church that my son and his family have been attending. Before going, I went to the church’s website to get some information about them. I was not impressed. And, after attending the service, I was less impressed. It was the same church that I had left. Only it had a better grasp of technology. It was more polished. But, a rock that is polished is still a rock.
They are a typical evangelical church. They truly love Jesus. And, they truly think that they are following Jesus. However, they, like so many other fundagelical churches think that their way is the ONLY way to follow Jesus. I disagree alot.
Their service was very much a patriotic thing since it was Memorial Day. Now, I do not want to take away from that. I am all for the veterans who have given so much for this country. But, I absolutely think that the Church MUST stay somewhat aloof to political leanings and patriotism. Ours is a kingdom that is NOT of this world.
Their guest speaker was Vietnam veteran who had lost both legs to a landmine. Of course, the requisite sympathy was evoked. But, this guy spoke to me. He talked at length about following a call. To me, that is like pouring gasoline on a fire. I do not think that I am following the calling that God has given. I feel like I am prostituting myself in order to pay my bills and keep health insurance for my wife and me. His words haunt me. I am deeply troubled. Could this be Ruach Elohim, the Breath of God, speaking? Could this be the Spirit that Yeshua told Peter and the others would come and teach them all things saying that I had no faith? Maybe. I am not sure. All I know is that in the most unexpected place, God may have spoken.

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Our Common Human Frailty

Published by mhelbert on April 16, 2013

This is not the post that I have been planning to write. That one is going to take another couple of days to prepare. But, I’m really having a difficult and emotional moment right now. You see, my dad is getting up in years. He’s 84. That’s ok, I guess. But the real issue is the dementia that has robbed him of his life. I just came from the rehab center that is his current home. He had surgery to remove his gall bladder a couple weeks ago and has not been able to return to his ‘normal life.’ I understand that dementia redefines ‘normal.’ But, I was totally unprepared for what I saw today. I will not go into details, but suffice to say that the light…no, the fire in dad’s eyes has been extinguished. I remember playing tennis with him way back in the day. He never had mercy on me, even though I was some 26 years his junior. He wanted me to learn! Today I looked into his eyes and saw…well…nothing. They are pale blue and lifeless. He even told the nurse present that his wife was gone and I am gone. He knows. The time for exiting this life is ever so near. I am preparing a eulogy. I think that God the Holy Spirit know that Bill’s life is nearing its culmination. I pray that I can do justice to the life of this man. Formed in his mother’s womb, grown up in the sight of Yahweh, and passing in the grace of God through Yeshua Ha Mashiach.

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1984 was a very, er, Interesting Year

Published by mhelbert on April 2, 2013

I’ve got some kind of virus right now. It’s kicking my butt. So, I really am trying to take it easy. But, I was checking some of the posts out there in the blogoshpere and came by one by James F. McGrath. The only reason it jumped out at me is that I am currently reading 1984 by George Orwell. (For the first time. Ok, I’m a little behind, let it go.) Most of the time when I read fiction I find myself transported into the world that the author has created. For C.S. Lewis I find myself in Perelandra, Malacandra or Narnia. Tolkein takes me to Middle Earth. With Orwell, I find myself in Oceania. However, McGrath makes the point that “Orwell has written a book that seems like it ought to change the world.” This I find interesting. More than making a political statement, he was making a critique of society and culture at a very basic level. Classism, racism and any other social construct came under his scrutiny. I appreciate McGrath’s insight on this. I may have to re-read the book with my own worldview placed under the microscope.

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