Monday, July 21, 2014
Fishing Glory
A little break in the south Louisiana marsh Jack Cravelle fishing with my son Baxter (sporting a beard) and John Wauchope (Batman), son of Bruce Wauchope from Adelaide, Australia with Captain Jason Shilling of http://www.neworleansstylefishingcharters.com. Kowalick, note the monster taken on one of my lures. Just like when I fish with you. We were fishing for speckled trout, which are great to eat, when Captain Shilling noticed a massive school of fish blowing up on some pogies. It looked like a whale to me. As it turned out it was a school of 20+ pound Jacks. Needless to say we spent the afternoon chasing the school and had the time of our lives. John, the rookie, allegedly caught the slightly largest fish at over 22 pounds, but he lost points because it took him an hour to land the fish. He takes after his dad. Thank you Jason for a great day, and thank you Holy Spirit; we will have more please. That was a large time. Next up for me is speaking at Caleb Miller's place in Fort Collins, Colorado (http://www.fathershousefc.com/) Saturday and Sunday (26-27th) then to Denver with Wes Roberts on Monday and Tuesday (28-29th). Blessings to all.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
The Artist
At the last Open Table Conference in Portland, Paul Young read a letter from one of his friends from Germany. All of us were stunned silent as we listened. We all asked Paul to post the letter on his web site and for permission to share it with others. Below is the Paul's introduction and the letter, which is part of a book. Here your heart will shout, "Yes!"
From Paul...
For
my birthday this year, on Mother’s Day, my friend K sent me a few pages of a
book, translated from the German, written by Martin Schleske, a master violin builder/craftsman.
She translated this piece because of conversation we recently had sitting in a
hotel lobby in Orlando, Florida.
A world-class young
athlete friend had been paralyzed as a result of an on-camera stunt that went
badly, and K was distraught. But it wasn’t her friend she wanted to talk about;
it was God and ‘…His wonderful Plan for our life.’ How do we begin to talk
about a ‘loving and powerful God’ then move to tragedy, sickness, accident, and
calamity and finally make it worse by actually believing that we are honoring God
in making God author of all this mess in the name of Sovereignty and Control.
Some religious people, and Christians would be often among their ranks, believe
in grim determinism. It is fatalism with personality.
There is an
impassable chasm (except perhaps in our darkened imaginations) between a God
who takes ownership for the Creation, along with the havoc it has produced, and
One who authors the evil within it. The first you might learn to trust, the
latter…twisted lip service at best.
How often we
have heard well meaning and intentioned words such as, “It must be part of
God’s Plan.” Really? Might it be that many things are simply WRONG! There is no
justification for much of what we have brought to the table; what has been done
to us, and what we then participate in ourselves. It is WRONG! Wrong, wrong,
wrong, wrong, WRONG!
Even if God has
the creative audacity to build purpose out of the evil we create, it will never
justify what is wrong. Nothing, not even the salvation of the entire cosmos,
could ever justify a horrific torture device called a ‘cross’. That God would
submit to our darkness and transform this dark machine into an icon and
monument of grace, says more about the nature of God than it does about any blinded
attempt to justify evil.
Does God have a
wonderful Plan for my (your) life? Does God sit and draw up a perfect will for
you and me on some cosmic disconnected drafting table, a perfect plan that
requires a perfect response? Is God then left to react to our stupidity or
deafness or blindness or inability, as we constantly violate perfection with
our own indelible ink? What if this is about a God who has greater respect for
you than for ‘the plan’? What if there is no ‘plan’ for your life but rather a
relationship in which God constantly invites us to co-create, respectfully
submits to the choices we bring to the table and because this God ‘is’ Love,
will never be satisfied until only that which is of Love’s kind remains in us?
What follows is
the article translated by K as a gift for my birthday. The first three
paragraphs are her commentary on Martin’s book.
Martin Schleske on Artist/Creator vs
Construction Designer
((At first Martin writes a lot of
fascinating things about the wood he uses for the violin’s body. Only one sort
of trees from a certain area in the mountains are formed by rough weather and
winds and meager ground, which produces resilient wood that is elastic at the
same time. He sometimes spends months seeking the right tree by tapping on them
with a tuning fork and that in old times violin builders found their ‘singer
trunks’ at the rivers where all the harvested wood was floated down to the
cities. Some trunks made melodic sounds when bouncing into others; these
revealed themselves as the ‘singers’.
Every hardship the tree experienced made
the roots go deeper and the structural fibers stronger, but all crooked it a
little this or that way. If a tree close to the chosen one, the ‘singer,’ fell,
the different angle of light and wind made the whole trunk twist a little,
which also shows up in every fiber. Other characteristics emerge in every
millimeter or wood and each is absolutely unique.
The wood is then stored for years in the
workshop under certain heat and humidity conditions until it is ready for its
purpose to become a violin body. Now the violin builder starts cutting the
body’s bulge/curvature out of it that is uniquely crucial for giving the violin
its unique voice.))
It would be
cheap to force one’s perception on the wood. The art is in seeing what the
fiber requires. Someone fixated on the ‘ideal’ or ‘right’ shape only follows
his laws. The artist, who also knows about the laws of acoustics, see something
else: he honors what is crooked and what has become in the fibers and knows
that these must not be cut in the wrong places. Only then is the evolution a
spiritual one where inner wisdom and knowledge of the wood and its needs are
uppermost, and not blind perception to a ‘form’.
The
perfectionist is content with fulfilling the law; the artist fulfills the
sound.
Romans 8:28-30 describes
a similar process: “And those who love
God know that all things work together for good, for those who are called
according to purpose. Those he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to
the image of his Son, in order that He might be the firstborn among many
brothers. Those he predestined, he called, those he called he also justified,
and those he justified he also glorified.”
“It’s really
quite similar to working on the Violin’s bulge/curvature. The wood is carefully
chosen (called). A good violin builder respects the texture of the wood and
under his fingers he feels the character, the solidity and density. This shows
him both the possibilities and the limits of the wood. Each of this wood’s
quirks and characteristics has an influence on the sound it will bring forth.
Some trees, like
people, have suffered staggering hardships and overwhelming winds in their
life. The course of our fibers becomes difficult, one-sided, crooked and
scarred. But like the wood, we reveal our true selves during the small and
great ordeals of our lives – these knock on our life and thus make our fibers
(our inner structure) audible.
If I as a violin
builder, am willing to work with the kind of fiber I get, ad start creating
with what has already become, and what is difficult and crooked…how much more
God will do so! God’s Wisdom knows what is necessary to build a unique sound
with our texture, our fiber and our sometimes difficult history. That is what
is meant by ‘called, justified and glorified’ in the above text.
I will only
become a master artist/creator if I am willing to work with a
‘despite’...despite this particular flaw, this odd structure, this damage…I
will give this wood its voice! I will make it sing!
While I am
working on a curvature/bulge, I sometimes feel the planer take a different approach.
This shows me, “Here I have to leave the idea of the curve I had in mind. It
may not be pretty, but necessary.” Everything that has happened to the wood
requires asymmetry.
If the fibers
were lines definable by Math, one could construct an ideal curve, an ideal form
already defined before the work begins. But the fiber course is not perfect,
not ideal, and thus the making of a Violin body is no construction site, it is
an act of creation.
It’s an act of
creation because it is not the wood that yields to the Maker, but the Maker
yielding to the wood.
The artist has
to ask himself what he has on hand: “How did this wood grow? What can it
become?” The intent of the process of creation allows for promised
possibilities to unfold. This cannot happen through a rigid plan. Everything
depends on the esteem and wisdom the Master has for his creation.
For our view of
life, it is a great difference if we see the world a creation or a
construction. It is not the idea of ‘Evolution’ that robs faith of his breath,
but thinking that the world is a divine construction site. This is the
difference between a Plan and a Promise, between Subordination and Dialogue,
between Religion and Faith.
An Almighty
Engineer subdues the material. ‘Faith in God’ then means to submit to God.
Building violins has taught me otherwise. Creating relates to both ‘what is
given’ and to ‘what has already become’. Faith means to trust in the indwelling
wisdom of the creator and the promised possibilities. This is proven in the
process itself. The wood finds its own voice in being born again.
When I feel the
fibers through the roughness of my planer it is like a dialogue with the wood.
Only while I’m working on it do I get clarity on how the curve should be. The
wood has its say in this joint creation.
A construction is
a forcing of a predetermined ideal on the material. Everything has to yield to
that idea. Now we are at the heart of legalism where life is coated in and
subdued by unrelenting ideal conceptions. We have arrived at the curse of
religion.
The
‘justification’ of man in the Romans verse above, first and foremost means that
there is a Wisdom at work that does justice
to life. The real fibers of our life are respected and given a voice. It is an
act of love that embraces the imperfect and sees its worth. Love sees all the
beauty, joy, desire and hope (the possibilities of the soul), but it also sees
all the weaknesses, disappointments, sadness and pain (the crooked fibers).
God’s Wisdom gets involved in a dialogue in which we have a natural say. Our
life is not a construction; it is not done on a drawing board.
Creation means
that everything that is in the making is becoming in regard to what has already
grown. This is brilliant! In a construction, everything that is in the making
is under the constraint of what is wanted. That is insufficient! That is
pathetic!
Scriptures show
me that God has the heart of an artist, not a grim construction planner. If the
world were the work of a cosmic engineer, he would be in a constant state of
discontentedness. We would all suffer from the constant nagging of a dogged
designer whose plans just never work out like he intended or expected. Reality
could never live up to his spotless (wonderful) construction plans. But a true
Creator knows he not only has to shape, but also endorse and allow. Wisdom
allows things to grow and unfold.
It is
fascinating to view the whole world as a composition, a painting or a sculpture
or scenes from a great work of art. Works of art can be beautiful and sometimes
odd.
I am certain
that God, having the heart of an artist, has no intention to force reality to
obey Him at all costs. Wisdom does not know grim determination.
The thought of
seeing every person as a work of art in progress, an ever-changing and unique
expression of God, changes our whole view of others and ourselves. Suddenly you
can see the odd, authentic, fascination, enjoyable, staggering interplay of
what is created and what has become of it. What was put into this person and
what has grown out of it? What is in the making?
We could see
people as forms of expression of a great Artist, expressions that yearn to be
seen, read and heard.”
For
more about Martin Schleske go to:
A friend, Rob
Parsons, is about to publish (Hodder) a book called Wisdom House. Here is an excerpt that bears on this conversation:
It
isn’t just seeming physical disadvantages that can turn into a strength, but
life experiences too – even ones that others would naturally run from. Some
years ago, a friend of mine attended a lecture on stem cell research in Oxford
given by a world famous geneticist. During the question time, the scientist was
asked whether, in the future, it would be possible to clone Beethoven. His
answer was a brilliant ‘yes’ and ‘no’. ‘Yes’ if you could extract the DNA from
the bones in his coffin –you could create a human being who would be an
identical twin of Beethoven. ‘Yes,’ you could probably teach the ‘twin’ to play
the piano to a reasonably high level. But ‘no’, because Beethoven’s
father, who was also his music tutor, was a violent alcoholic. The young
Beethoven was very close to his mother who died when he was a teenager, and he
became responsible for raising his two brothers as his father lapsed deeper
into his alcoholism. He lost his first and only true love, he lived in poverty
weighed down with debts, he suffered from manic-depression and, like his
father, turned to alcohol. Then, just as Beethoven began to have some interest
in his compositions, he began to lose his hearing.
The
culmination of all these experiences – the tumultuous feelings of rage, love,
despair, passion - were poured into his most famously pounding six
symphonies (Numbers Three to Eight) which are what we now revere as ‘classic’
Beethoven. More accomplished musicians may now play or conduct his works, but
they can never capture his greatness because that quality was born out of his
expression of his own life experience, of being true to himself.
And finally,
from George MacDonald, writing in 1868:
The
Scene: Robert Falconer’s “righteous” grandmother had burned his fiddle, the one
that had been his father’s and grandfather’s, lest it also lead Robert
astray…..
“But though the loss of Miss St. John and
the piano was the last blow, his sorrow did not rest there, but returned to
brood over his bonny lady. She was scattered to the winds. Would any of her
ashes ever rise in the corn, and moan in the ripening wind of autumn? Might not
some atoms of the bonny leddy creep into the pines on the hill, whose ’soft and
soul-like sounds’ had taught him to play the Flowers of the Forest on those
strings which, like the nerves of an amputated limb, yet thrilled through his
being? Or might not some particle find its way by winds and waters to sycamore
forest of Italy, there creep up through the channels of its life to some
finely-rounded curve of noble tree, on the side that ever looks sunwards, and
be chosen once again by the violin-hunter, to be wrought into a new and
fame-gathering-instrument?
“Could it be that his bonny leddy had
learned her wondrous music in those forests, from the shine of the sun, and the
sighing of the winds through the sycamores and pines? For Robert knew that the
broad-leaved sycamore, and the sharp, needle-leaved pine, had each its share in
the violin. Only as the wild innocence of human nature, uncorrupted by wrong,
untaught by suffering, is to that nature struggling out of darkness into light,
such and so different is the living wood, with its sweetest tones of obedient
impulse, answering only to the wind which bloweth where it listeth, to that
wood, chosen, separated, individualized, tortured into strange, almost vital
shape, after a law to us nearly unknown, strung with the strings from animal
organizations, and put into the hands of man to utter the feelings of a soul
that has passed through a like history. This Robert could not yet think, and
had to grow able to think it by being himself made an instrument of God’s
music.”
I am today a
unique sound that I will not be tomorrow and tomorrow could not be but for
today. What if…what if there is a God who could gather up all the broken bits
of the two fish and five loaves of my life, create purpose out of what was stolen
from me and what I then broke, and make certain that nothing is lost? That
would change everything!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)