contradict reality

'Faith, wherever it develops into hope, causes not rest but unrest, not patience but impatience. It does not calm the unquiet heart, but is itself the unquiet heart in man. Those who hope in Christ can no longer put up with reality as it is, but begin to suffer under it, to contradict it. Peace with God means conflict with the world, for the goad of the promised future stabs inexorably into the flesh of every unfulfilled present.'
Jurgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, quoted in Disciples and Citizens, by Graham Cray.

Bishop Cray says, '[t]he goad was the sharp stick used by an ox-driver or ploughman to stop the animal from wandering.' When Jesus told Paul that it hurt him to kick against the goads I think I always pictured gourds, which are much gentler. I have a lot to learn. And I would probably change the script to read, Would it surprise you to find out you were never alone?

'the pitcher longs for water to carry/and a person for work that is real'

Really good article in the New York Times by Matthew B. Crawford. He presents a compelling critique of many kinds of modern work. His experience does not exactly match mine, though there is a lot that is spookily close. We finished degrees around the same time and maybe felt the same thrill followed swiftly by disappointment when we joined the workforce. A lot of what he writes on work seems right on to me. I especially like the following:

'Further, habits of mind have an ethical dimension that we don’t often think about. Good diagnosis requires attentiveness to the machine, almost a conversation with it, rather than assertiveness, as in the position papers produced on K Street. Cognitive psychologists speak of “metacognition,” which is the activity of stepping back and thinking about your own thinking. It is what you do when you stop for a moment in your pursuit of a solution, and wonder whether your understanding of the problem is adequate.'

And this:

'The good life comes in a variety of forms. This variety has become difficult to see; our field of aspiration has narrowed into certain channels. But the current perplexity in the economy seems to be softening our gaze. Our peripheral vision is perhaps recovering, allowing us to consider the full range of lives worth choosing. For anyone who feels ill suited by disposition to spend his days sitting in an office, the question of what a good job looks like is now wide open.'

He quotes from Marge Piercy's poem "To Be of Use", which is where the title of the post comes from.

at times

I am definitely going to be facing some change in the next few weeks. This has never been a very comfortable place for me. But there is a lot that is positive about the fact of the change, and about the challenge to self-examination that goes along with this. I am greatly encouraged by Pip Wilson's blog, which I need to write more on some time; he encourages me to welcome the itch that exists in 'the place called uncomfortable'.

Soon I will have a lot more time to write about all of this.

In the meantime, I was struck and helped by this Henri Nouwen quote, which appeared a week or so ago on a couple of blogs I like . I saw it first at Maggi Dawn's site.



I have not been drawing very much, so I thought I would post another page from my sketchbook to show the furthest I have been getting in putting pen to paper. I often do not get this far. But these were good words to come across.



I like that I wrote a verse from Colossians down and then decided to put the next one. And then the next one. This was on one of the days when I was most stressed.

i missed blogging

I have been having a fairly terrible time at work over the past few weeks. This has raised huge questions for me. Immediate ones to do with work and what I will do next. And then there are problems that I need to try and answer in the long now if I am to live with a stronger sense of calling, vocation and purpose.

We went to a panel discussion that involved the very delightful Emmanuel Guibert the evening of the first day that had been really bad for me in my job. The panel discussed this book, which M. Guibert co-authored with the photographer Didier Lefèvre. It was a blessed relief to be taken so far from my own problems and reminded of the wider world out there, full of need and wonder.

I stole this drawing as a way to try and gather my thoughts and calm myself.

my parents are coming to visit

back to the first post

I finished reading The New York Review of Books articles on torture and was quite sick. Re-reading this before posting I remember Max Von Sydow in Hannah and Her Sisters: 'If Jesus came back today, and saw what what was going on in his name, he'd never stop throwing up.'

I think that by the time you get into arguing over whether or not a specific way of inflicting pain is or is not torture you are already so far from what is right (never mind what is true, worthy, loving, etc.) as to not be worth listening to. I might want more from the current administration. I certainly don't want less and am often reassured.



I don't know what to make of the rabbit that belongs (for now) to Pierre Bergé, but felt happy trying to draw it. It was a gift to the Chinese Emperor a couple of centuries ago that was stolen in the 1800s. Monsieur Bergé says he will happily give it back when the Chinese government recognizes Tibetan independence.

I messed up the drawing and it was fun trying to set it right again.

Greenbelt Art

Greenbelt: Visual Arts 08 from Nathan Jones on Vimeo.

It is many years since I went to Greenbelt (the reasons for my absence are all geographical - and financial I suppose - absence makes my heart grow fonder of all those I already love). I dearly miss it. In many ways it continues to be a touchstone. Time spent there and recent virtual reconnection inform what I read and listen to. How I think.
Over the past several years I have been able to listen to more and more of the talks and more recently some videos have been appearing. I like this one a lot.

Jonny Baker linked to the video at his blog. Is this what they call a hat tip?

listening and hearing

I should say that I am often someone who does not read poetry. That I don't stop, listen, or hear. (And even when I do stop, I don't often listen. And even when I stop and listen, I don't often hear). I find it very hard to stop and to listen and to hear. I see this as a cause of a lot of the stress in my life. Or maybe I should say, This adds to the stress in my life. I forget who I am. Or become uncertain. I look for answers in the wrong places. I get rattled and rattle others. I snap and tear. Sometimes.

Sundays are always the hardest day of the week for me. This has been true for a long time. I am not sure why. My going to church rituals somehow contribute to the feeling that the rest of the week is hurtling towards me. All of which is to say that it is hard to have a day of rest - to stop and listen and hear. It is hard to ask for help. This has been a good Sunday for the most part. Church. Good conversations. A long lunch with friends. More good conversations. Not much stopping, listening or hearing outside of these but grace in all of them. Not sure that this post is going anywhere else right now. I feel the rest of the week, work, pressing in. But I also feel okay. Aware. Even if I am not ready.

It's national poetry month. I just found this out. Here we all are.

word has arrived...

This seemed like an appropriate 'yet, not yet, life after Easter Resurrection' poem. Margaret Avison. Found here.

like a library

I do not know much about Simon Channing Williams, who died last week. But I remember him very fondly from the documentary extras on the DVD of The Constant Gardener. One of those people who seems to carry a whole universe with him, bringing others benevolently into his orbit. This was evidenced, not least, in the organization he founded in Kenya after the production finished. He produced all of Mike Leigh's films for the last twenty years. My own favourite is Topsy Turvey, but I like many of them.