The Last Temptation

When Martin Scorcese's "The Last Temptation of Christ" was released back in 1988, I remember there were a lot of Christians who protested the film, in particular for one controversial scene near the film's conclusion.

As Jesus (Willem Dafoe) hangs, dying on the cross, he has a daydream of sorts in which he is living as husband-and-wife with Mary Magdalene (Barbara Hershey), and the two are seen doing what human men and women do, including the act of procreation. Fundamentalists exaggerated the sexual content, condemned the film as pornographic and salacious, and even offered to buy the negative from Universal Studios so that they could burn it — before the film had opened. Scorcese later speculated that they objected to the idea of the film, rather than the film itself. After all, they hadn't seen it.

They missed the point of the film. Even many people who saw the film missed the point.

The last temptation of Christ was not hot ("Boxcar Bertha") Barbara Hershey. According to author Nikos Kazantzakis, Christ's last temptation was the temptation to live a normal life.

And that just blows my mind.

Imagine the Son of God, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords actually wanting to be one of us. To live like we live, to do what we do, to be with us, to stay here with us.

Of course, we don't know that's what was going through Jesus' mind as he was hanging on the cross. In fact, it likely wasn't. I believe he had loftier things on his mind. And I believe he knew how much better life is in heaven and how much pain and misery and sorrow are part of this world. But Kazantzakis, who wrote the novel in 1960 (originally in Greek), poses a scenario that has caused people to ruminate the idea for half a century.

If I'm completely honest with myself, I've faced this same "last temptation" for almost that same length of time.

I've coveted, desired, pursued and am daily tempted to lead a "normal life". And in some ways I have attained it. I have a wife, kids, house, lawn, respectable job, proper associations, etc., etc. Many of them, things I once thought were unattainable for me, so I wanted them even more. There was a time, particularly in my younger years, that I craved a normal life.

Yes, we say we want to be "special", to be different, to be unique and unusual and stand out in the crowd. But do we really? Really? Don't we all want to fit in, to belong to some group, some tribe? Even if the tribe we choose is on the fringes of society, we're still trying to fit in, to be "normal" to the people who accept us and surround us.

I mean, so many people sport tattoos these days, that it's oftentimes unique NOT to have a tattoo. Heck, at 49 years of age, I'm thinking about getting a tattoo myself because the idea has become so acceptable.

And the desire for a "normal life" isn't limited to the way we look or the way we act. It shows up in the way we spend our time. It's in the decisions we make and the paths we choose to follow. In fact, the last temptation of Christ may be our greatest temptation.

What does God say about how to live our lives?

"Since we are living by the Spirit, let us follow the Spirit's leading in every part of our lives." (Galatians 5:25)

"You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence." (Acts 2:27-29)

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." (Galatians 2:20)

"For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God." (Colossians 3:3)

"...I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received." (Ephesians 4:1)

"As a result, he does not live the rest of his earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God." (I Peter 4:2)

"Be holy, because I am holy." (I Peter 1:16, I Peter 1:15, Leviticus 11:44, Leviticus 11:45, Leviticus 19:12, Leviticus 20:26)

"Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord." (Hebrews 12:14)

"So why do you keep calling me 'Lord, Lord!' when you don't do what I say?" (Luke 6:46)

Now that doesn't sound like a normal life, does it?

Let's resist "the last temptation". Let's resist the temptation to lead a normal life.

Wish me luck as I lead the life God has in store for me.

Godspeed, as you make your way down the path he has set for you.

Thoughts on My Father Written at the Death of My Grandfather

Circa 1985

Don't waste away life waiting to be perfect.
Don't wait 'til you're good enough to let me know you.
Closing yourself off to keep me from seeing
Leaves me yearning and empty inside.
I want to know you and you to know me,
So when you are gone then I can find tears.

Matinee: Winter 1984

I live in a moment bright and yellow
Filled with Grace and wit and free from care
We faced a screen which for a time
Held all our thoughts at bay
And drenched us in immaculate streams
And left us receding, mesmerized.

But now we march out down the aisle
Our minds process the real again
And colors which were moments ago
Accomplices in our escape,
Now turn and fade in matter grey.
I flip from station to station in the car.
The ride back home goes slowly.

"Hand in Hand": A Childhood Memory Tracked Down

Talking with my wife about church buildings and sanctuaries and the lost appreciation for sacred places, I mentioned to her a childhood memory I have of a film I saw on the old "CBS Children's Film Festival" probably around 1967 or so. It was the story about the relationship between a Roman Catholic boy and a Jewish girl about 8 or 9 years old. They go on an make-believe safari ride on a little rubber raft in a river when their adventure turns to disaster.

The film opens with the boy rushing to the church to tell his priest that he has killed his friend Rachel. The story is told as a flashback beginning with how he met her and the struggle they had understanding each other's faith.

The film was 1960's "Hand in Hand" and as an adult I realize it's a story of religious tolerance that was very much ahead of its time.

As a child, I was mesmerized by its simple story of innocence and coming of age. But what has stayed with me all these 40 or so years is that image in mind of the Catholic church and the priest, of a place to run to, somewhere to go to be consoled, to be comforted, to be forgiven.

I remember a time when I was in college, struggling with some now forgotten trauma, and walking at nighttime in the sleepy little town where I went to school. I remember wishing I were Catholic, wondering where the nearest cathedral might be and settling for the dark steps of a Methodist church to sit and pray and be.

Today with our contemporary worship services and emphasis on multimedia entertainment and coffee-bar social setting, I worry that we've forgotten the need for sacred spaces. If someone searching for that sense of sacredness doesn't find it at the church, where will they go?

A week ago I was at a point where I simply had to get away from it all, away from work, away from the phone, away from emails, demands, complaints, desires, away from family even, away from people needing something from me, taking from me, wanting more, never feeling that what I was giving was good enough or was enough. So I left. Told my assistant I needed to run an errand and left. Drove to Shelby Farms, the largest urban park in the country, perhaps the world. And just walked. In the cold. In the wind. In the middle of the day.

It wasn't exactly a sacred space, but it came close. I was alone, except for the occasional runner or bicyclist passing. I was surrounded by God's handiwork --- birds, squirrels and a hawk or two. And I felt God's presence. The wind, the air, the rustling of the leaves. It was my adventure. And God and I were walking hand in hand.

Where Did All the Money Go?

I just received the October statement for our investment, brokerage and retirement accounts, and for the second consecutive month it's taken a serious nose dive. Not the direction I like to see my savings go. We live well within our means, contribute the maximum allowable amount to our SEP plans (the self-employed equivalent of a 401k), and make monthly automatic payments to my investment savings. And in the days since the current financial meltdown began, I've lost a LOT of money.

I don't like to talk about my finances. It's something I keep pretty personal. So I won't get too specific. But let's just say, it will take me three to four years of working and contributing to my investments as I have in the past to make up for the losses I have experienced in the last two months. And that's only if the market recovers from its tailspin very soon.

So, like many in America, I've been asking, "Where did all the money go?" If my money was there in August, who has it now?

Then I read this article titled "Where did all the money go?" and I finally grasped a very important lesson in finances. In fact, you could call it a rude awakening.

In the article, Robert Shiller, an economist at Yale explains that the price of a stock has never been the same thing as money -- it's simply the "best guess" of what the stock is worth.

"It's in people's minds," Shiller says. "We're just recording a measure of what people think the stock market is worth. What the people who are willing to trade today -- who are very, very few people -- are actually trading at. So we're just extrapolating that and thinking, well, maybe that's what everyone thinks it's worth."

In other words, I took my money -- real, hard, hard-earned money -- and bought something that I (and many others) thought was worth something, at the price we/they believed that something was worth at the time. Only now, that something I bought isn't worth what I paid for it.

It's as if I bought a high-priced house in a neighborhood that then went bad and the value of that house declined. I can wait it out and see if the neighborhood improves, something that may or may not happen in my lifetime. Or I can cut my losses and get out now -- before the neighborhood gets any worse and the value of my house plummets even further.

But the lesson I've learned, the rude awakening I've experienced, is more than a lesson in economics.

I'm learning that nothing really has changed. Just my value on paper. Just the vision I had of retiring three or four years earlier than I likely will. Just the false feeling of security I got with each monthly statement.

But nothing else has changed really. Not who I am. Not how people see me. Not who my friends are or the way my family feels toward me.

So what will I do differently? I won't stop saving or investing -- just maybe invest in safer, less risky options. And I may invest less and live more. Instead of investing in the future -- my future -- perhaps I will invest more in the present -- and in others.

Reminder to self:

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." -- Matthew 6:18-21

One of These Things is Not Like the Others

It was different this time, wasn't it? The day after the election, the day after the U.S. elected our first African-American President. That day was different than any other day after the election had ever been. Did you notice? Did you look at black people differently that day? Did they seem different to you?

I didn't vote for Obama, so I can't take credit for this historic event. I voted for McCain, for experience, for certainty, for a party whose promise of limited government involvement, trickle-down economics and pro-life leanings appeal to me. But imagine if McCain had won.

That day after the election would have felt no different than the day before. Little would have changed. And my vote would have been a vote for the status quo -- for better or worse.

And it wouldn't have been any different.

But it is different now. A pivotal moment in the trajectory of this country has occurred. A man of color has been elected to the highest office in the greatest nation on Earth.

I admit to being a cynic, to not believing his message of hope. Now that Obama is President, I will pray for him, for his guidance, for his wisdom, for his protection. I will pray that his promises were not empty, that he will be able to bring about the positive change he pledged. I pray that he will prove me wrong. And that our nation will be different -- and better.

Words: A Rather Random Brain Dump

As far back as he could remember, all he had ever wanted was to be normal. He wasn't even really sure what normal was exactly, but it was always held in high regard by his mother. The life lessons she taught were subtle, but lasting in their impact: You don't want to be poor. But being too wealthy is something to disdain. Vanity is, well, vain. But stand up straight, point your toes in when you walk, and for heaven's sake, don't pick your nose in public. Don't stand out. But don't be common. Excel. But don't be haughty. God's grace has washed you of your sins, but don't get too comfortable.

Today I awoke from a coma. Not a real coma, but a fog that has lasted some 30 years or more.

"Live your life for something bigger than yourself."

What have I been living for? Normalcy? Some elusive status quo?

"In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God."

Words are powerful. Words have the power to heal, the power to inspire, the power to hurt, the power to destroy.

We're constantly sowing words like seeds. Some will fall on fertile soil, some on rocky soil. Some will be choked out by thorns and weeds. Some will be eaten by birds. Some will take root and grow.

Funny how I can remember some words that were spoken to me long, long ago. "Sometimes you have to act your way into a better way of thinking," a wise woman told me at a pivotal point in my life. "Don't stand like that, you look like a queer," an older neighborhood boy told me. (Ironically, his father would later leave his mother for a man.) "My dad says your mother looks like a sack of potatoes," said a kid who looked like he should have worn that sack over his head.

What words am I sowing? I need to think before I speak.

The B-52s Live at the Garden

15 seconds of "Love Shack". Sorry about the poor quality cell phone image. Must. Have. An. iPhone.

Crosby, Stills & Nash Concert

Incredible un-Memphis-like weather and a major flashback from the 70s! All in all, a wonderful evening.

Stop, children, what's that sound? Everybody look what's going down!