Kyros and Redemption

"That which has been is that which will be, and that which has been done is that which will be done. So, there is nothing new under the sun."

Ecclesiastes 1:9

syn·tax \ˈsin-ˌtaks\

Middle French or Late Latin; Middle French sintaxe, from Late Latin syntaxis, from Greek, from syntassein to arrange together, from syn- + tassein to arrange
1 a: the way in which linguistic elements (as words) are put together to form constituents (as phrases or clauses) b: the part of grammar dealing with this2: a connected or orderly system : harmonious arrangement of parts or elements

It began, as things sometimes do, with a small thing.

On the front page of the Fort Mill Times I read Recycling Sparks Ideas For His Art. The article introduced me to Douglas Sparks, a local sculptor who recycles found objects by welding them together. For weeks I kept the article until one day I read it again. It occurred to me that I needed to meet this man. I drove to 124 Confederate Street, home to BacInTyme Coffee Cafe, where, according to the article, a few of Mr. Sparks' pieces resided. There I met the sculptures, and I met Georgia Harper Ehrenberg, founder and owner of the cafe. If you ever visit Fort Mill, SC (or if you live here), BacInTyme is a must-stop. Walking in feels like coming home, and Georgia carries the aroma of Christ. After conversation (and a good cup of coffee) Georgia told me where I could find Douglas Sparks.

A few blocks away, Mr. Sparks welcomed me as only a southern gentleman can. He said, "Pull up a chair." We talked about the hills of Kentucky and moonshine, childhood stories and cemeteries. Finally we talked about art, the thing that brought me there.

"I don't feel like making anything right now." he said.

"I know that feeling well." I said.

Time ceases to be when kindred spirits sit together. The Greeks called it kyros time- synchronicity-quality with quantity. That was last week. I saw him again yesterday. He was building deer stands. I photographed some of the yard art and asked, "Do you have a plan before you begin a piece?"

"No, I weld two things together and go from there."

"Like a story that writes itself?"

"Yeah, like that."

He smiled. I knew from the moment I saw his work that I wanted one of his sculptures. Choosing was the hard part. I don't have a yard, presently, so I leaned toward the smaller pieces- a dragonfly with knife-blade wings, a spoon-winged ladybug, a turtle with an iron skillet shell. I finally decided on 'Sparky's Firefly', a winged creature composed of a lag screw, masonry nails and butter knife blades. It makes me smile.

Elaine Scarry in On Beauty and Being Just, said, "Matisse never hoped to save lives. But he repeatedly said that he wanted to make paintings so serenely beautiful that when one came upon them, suddenly all problems would subside." There is something serenely beautiful about Douglas Sparks' sculpture, a simple elegance in redeemed metal.

BacInTyme Coffee Cafe, 124 Confederate Street

"It is the perennial debate, born in the Romantic era, between the beliefs that all creative acts are born of A) some transcendent, inexplicable Dionysian act of inspiration, a kiss from God on your brow that allows you to give the world The Magic Flute, or B) hard work."

Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit

On Slowing Down

"Caring about what you are doing is considered either unimportant or taken for granted. On this trip I think we should notice it, explore it a little to see if in that strange separation of what man is from what man does we may have some clues as to what the hell has gone wrong in this twentieth century. I don't want to hurry it. That itself is a poisonous twentieth-century attitude. When you want to hurry something, that means you no longer care about it and want to get on to other things."

Robert M. Pirsig

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Tuesday morning was spent with Hugh Gill. It is always good to be with a godly man. The thing that impressed me most about Hugh is twofold- he loves the Lord and he is not in a hurry. I met with him to take photographs for the cover of an album he is working on; flute worship- a series of original songs performed on wooden flutes. Currently, the project stands at 4 songs, an EP. Hugh told me the final album will contain 12. He also told me he has given away hundreds of copies (I received my copy through a friend). During the conversation he would play one of his songs. He held up a small flute and said, "I think there's a song in this one." Time slowed as I listened. Several hours passed. At one point Hugh expressed concern over, in his words, a misconception among Christians. He said, "I am not a servant. I am a son of the Living God who serves, and there is a large difference." God speaks to me in a number of ways. Tuesday morning He spoke to me through Hugh Gill.

the garden

friend \ˈfrend\
from Old English frēond; akin to Old High German friunt friend, Old English frēon to love, frēo free 1 a: one attached to another by affection or esteem

"No longer do I call you slaves, for the slave does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I have heard from My Father I have made known to you."

John 15:15

Thanks to my young friend, Andrew Baur, I have a garden. In my personal effort to reclaim language, there are words I do not use lightly. The word friend is one of them. There are many acquaintances in my life....few friends. And, in the true sense of the word, that is as it should be. As I was listening to a lecture by Gregory Wolfe on beauty the word 'friend' came to mind. The lecture, The Wound of Beauty, is a must-hear (click here for free download). In this talk, Wolfe's discussion ranges from Hans Urs von Balthasar to Flannery O'Connor. His comparison of Goodness, Truth and Beauty to Faith, Reason and Imagination is marvelous. But when he began to discuss the tension in art between realism and idealism my mind said,"This applies to friendship!" I began to remember those in my life, past and present, I call friends. And I thought of Andrew. You see, the reason I have him to thank for my garden is not that he helped me plant. He encouraged me to plant. That is something friends do. Which leads me to guitars, something the Lord has used over the years to encourage me and remind me that He is a friend. Years ago I gave my guitar to someone who needed it. Time passed and a friend, knowing I did not have a guitar, gave me his. The next year we went to Brazil together on a mission trip. While there, one of our interpreters asked if he could play my guitar. As I watched him play, the Spirit of God whispered, "Give it to him." So, I did. At the time, Terri and I were teaching a couple's sunday school class. When members of the class learned what I had done they chipped in and bought me a new guitar. That one stayed with me a little longer, but, during an education conference in Moscow, Idaho, once again that still, small voice spoke and one of the teachers at the Logos school carried an Ovation guitar home. This happened while friends and I were working on an album in Memphis. And so, before the next session I asked Rusty McFarland, the studio owner, if I could use one of his guitars. He asked what happened to mine. I told him and his response was, "Humph, God would have to send me a telegram before I would give a guitar away!" A couple of days passed. Rusty called me, saying he needed to see me at the studio. I could tell from the tone in his voice something was amiss. When I walked into the studio, the expression on Rusty's face confirmed my suspicions. "This has never happened to me before," he began, paused, and continued, "but while I was in the shower this morning, God told me to give you my guitar." It was a vintage Guild, a thing of beauty. By far the best instrument I had ever held. A year passed. I was headmaster of Shekhinah, a classical Christian school. Every morning we began the day with praise and prayer, with me on the Guild, until one night someone broke into the school and stole it. When I told Rusty he cried. A few months passed and Rusty called, inviting the family to spend the weekend with he and Carol. They had moved to the country, outside Ashland City, so Rusty could be near Nashville. That weekend he presented me with another Guild, a cutaway. He had told my guitar saga to a songwriter friend of his (who toured with Reba McEntire), and after thinking about it said, "Well I've had a good year. Give him this one." It was the guitar he moved to Nashville with, the one he toured with. Years later, you guessed it, that beautiful instrument changed hands. While our oldest son, Joshua, was attending Visible School in Memphis I handed it over to him. The guitar I currently play is a joy, partially because I helped build it. The Lord may let me play this one until I can pass it on to my son Samuel. I hope so. The thing I have learned is this- friends, like the guitars in my life, come and go. My role is not Owner but Steward. And, as I grow older I understand the value in esteeming someone. So, thank you Andrew for being a friend.

Liturgy

my life is a collection

of paper

bits of time stopped

with ink

fixed

glued in books

memory remnants

placed on shelves

a Good meal

shared music

under

the crescent moon

dancing with Elvis

yellow labels marked

FORM3547

forward my mail

and life goes on

Last week we left Joshua in a parking lot with a group of fellow Marines. Someone handed him a laptop. "Here," he said. "They want you to take this." He had to re-arrange an already full backpack. A woman approached us. "Hi, I'm so-and-so, with Family Care. There are cookies and coffee in that room over there." In a few hours Josh would board a truck, then a plane. The day had been good. We ate good food together, we toured the base, saw Joshua's office, we bowled (mine was the high score of 138, shocking everyone), we roller skated (I only fell once), we had coffee at Barnes and Noble, we ate again. And, the day ended in a parking lot, on a Marine base. I looked at Joshua, now a man. Time is a strange thing. The little boy was gone, but the memories...I remember one beautiful day, Joshua was 7, or 8. We were walking the sewer canal in Memphis. After crossing under Poplar Avenue, we walked through Overton Park for, maybe fifteen minutes. It must have seemed longer to Josh. When we arrived at one of the bridges that cross the canal, we looked up to see a young, oriental couple. They were speaking in their native language. Joshua exclaimed, "Whoa, we walked all the way to China!" That was a good day.

I am praying, daily, Psalm 91 over Joshua. It is a Psalm that, for centuries, soldiers and prisoners have prayed. Yesterday Robin McMillan, one of our pastors, had a message from Psalm 91. He drew our attention to the 4 names of God in verses one and two- Elyon, Shaddai, Yahweh, and Elohim- glimpses of attributes that remind me that the God I serve cannot be contained within language, space or time. And He loves me.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, "My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust!" For it is He who delivers you from the snare of the trapper, and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you may seek refuge; His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark. You will not be afraid of the terror by night, or of the arrow that flies by day; of the pestilence that stalks in darkness, or of the destruction that lays waste at noon. A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; but it shall not approach you. You will only look on with your eyes, and see the recompense of the wicked. For you have made the LORD, my refuge, even the Most High, your dwelling place. No evil will befall you, nor will any plague come near your tent. For He will give His angels charge concerning you, to guard you in all your ways. They will bear you up in their hands, lest you strike your foot against a stone. You will tread upon the lion and cobra, the young lion and the serpent you will trample down. "Because he has loved Me, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him securely on high, because he has known My name. He will call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him, and honor him. With a long life I will satisfy him, and let him behold My salvation."

PSALM 91