Cleaving

"Cleaving" is like "flammable."  It can mean the opposite of itself.

Sometimes cleaving means clinging, hanging on, being right there, attached.
Sometimes cleaving means splitting or cutting or dividing.

Someone blogged recently about cloves of garlic, and discovering the difference between a "head" and a "clove."  So I asked Maggie if she knew the difference.  And it got me to thinking: why is a clove called a clove?

"Clove" is past tense of "cleave."

A cloven hoof is a hoof with two parts.  One part that's split into two, but not really two, because it's still one hoof.

Even when we use the word "cleave" to mean "split," it still indicates the closeness of what was being split, such as the bow of the ship cleaving the waves.

(This sheds some light on marriage.  "A man shall leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife, and the two shall become one."  They're one.  But they're not.  They're two parts of one.  So they're one.)

Back to the garlic.  One head.  Eight or nine cloves.  The cloves can be separated.  So they're their own thing.  But they're not.  They're joined in the one head of garlic.

Once upon a time, I was scolded for falling into a "basic meaning fallacy."  The longer I live, the more I discover that "basic meaning" really does explain connections almost all the time.  It's not a fallacy.  It's usually enlightening and fun to figure out.

Rebuking Unbelief

Mark's Easter account tells us that Jesus "rebuked their unbelief and hardness of heart" when He appeared to the disciples-in-hiding in the upper room that Sunday.

We think rebuke and imagine a scolding, a wagging finger, and a hefty dose of "Shame on you for not believing those who had reported My resurrection!" 

But what do the other gospel accounts tell us?  There is not a shred of scolding anywhere.  The way Jesus "rebuked their unbelief" was to forgive them.  To speak "Peace to you."  To show them that He who had died was now alive.  To expound to them what the Old Testament scriptures had taught of His suffering and atonement.  To restore them to their office of forgiving others.

That is how He rebuked [chased away or beat back] their unbelief.

Babies Suck

My class consisted of one [count 'em -- one] kid who was not yet ready for confirmation class with the pastor.  So during confirmation class, he and I would sit in my dining room and work on memory work, basic Bible stories, stuff like that.  One night he exclaimed about something not-to-his-liking, "That sucks!"

My eyebrows went up.  I gasped.  "You will not talk like that around me and my children.  You may apologize and not use that phrase any more while here!" 

"What?  What did I say?"

"You know what you said."

"But what's wrong with that?"

Kid kept claiming to not understand what the big deal was.  He kept asking me to explain to him what the problem was.  I thought he was being obnoxious.  But now I wonder.  Maybe he wasn't being intentionally provocative and ugly-mouthed.  Maybe he just didn't know the origins of that phrase.



One day when I was in junior high, some high-school fellows drove by and mooned the PE class.  A bunch of us were talking about it at lunch.  When I said, "Yeah, he stuck his a** out the top of the car for everybody to see," gasps exploded around the table.  "Susan said 'a**'!  Can you believe that Susan said that?!"  That's when I discovered that a** is not a substitute-word for hiney or tuschie or bottom.  I didn't know.  I used a word that I heard people using, and I knew what the word meant, but I didn't realize that it was considered naughty.

Many years later, I mentioned something about one of my daughters looking "hot" in a particular dress.  I thought it meant "pretty" or "fantastic" or "especially dolled up."  I didn't know that it had somewhat sleazy connotations until I saw the reaction of the people to whom I'd said it.  Whoa.  Botched it again.  Major embarrassment!

So maybe my student that day really didn't know the implications of the word "sucks." 

When something "stinks," there's a reason we use that word.  If a potato or raw meat or a rotten egg "stinks," it is spoiled.  It makes the atmosphere around it unpleasant.  Thus, if a situation stinks, it is likewise bad and unpleasant. 

I think a lot of young people don't have a clue where the word "sucks" came from in the 60s and 70s.  They're so used to hearing the word as a synonym for "that stinks" or "that's awful" that they never stop to consider what the word is referring to. 

Babies suck to eat.
Babies suck on their thumbs.
Bigger people suck on soda-pop straws or even the cap of their pen.

But can we please please please stop using the word "sucks" to describe things we don't like?

Jimmy and Shakespeare and APT

In which we figure out why someone who used to detest Shakespeare is now crazy about American Players Theatre:


Four years have passed since Gary and I headed into the city to see In Acting Shakespeare.  It seems like just the other day.  The show made a huge impression on me.  (Recent runs of IAS have been nowhere near here.  If it ever comes back to this area, I sure hope we hear about it and can snag some tickets.)

Tonight I watched Ian McKellen's Acting Shakespeare, upon which Jimmy DeVita's show is based. There were fabulous sections that caused thrills to run up and down my spine.  But you know what?  Shhhh -- don't tell anybody I said this: Jimmy's show was even better than Sir Ian's. 

Jimmy's play discussed education.
And fatherhood.
And family.
And hard work.
And art.
And how amazing words can be.
With no pontification.
It was all in a riveting story, full of laughs and even a few tears.

He tells of his youth and his blue-collar jobs.  He tells about dropping out of college.  Twice.  And how he finally ended up on a college fieldtrip where he saw Ian McKellen Acting Shakespeare ... and how he was transfixed by the play.  He too wanted to be able to affect people that way!

But when he finally convinced his dad to come see one of his performances, his father didn't like it.  Why?  Same reason I hated Shakespeare.  (Honestly, it's same reason I still hate a whole lot of presentations of Shakespearean plays.)  Too often, a Shakespeare play makes you feel dumb.  Dumb dumb dumb.  You don't understand the words.  Therefore you don't follow the plot and you don't get the jokes.  And you certainly don't get the play's commentary on power or forgiveness or mercy or grudges.

As Jimmy explained in In Acting Shakespeare, the Bard's plays shouldn't make you feel small.  They should make you feel BIG and grand and full.  If they make you feel small, there's something wrong with how the play is being presented.

Jim DeVita began to learn how to converse with the words of Shakespeare.  In the play he talked about coming to APT.  Jimmy's not the only one at APT who handles the Shakespearean language as if he were conversing.  Most of the actors and actresses do.  Every now and then you run across an intern who doesn't get it yet, and that person sticks out like a sore thumb.  At APT they tell the story in such a way that you follow it all:  the story, the jibes and barbs and witty insults, the silly love triangles, and maybe even The Moral Of The Story.  You don't go to APT so that you can pretend to be part of the [ahem] cultural elite that watches Shakespeare to show off what a Smarty you are.  You go to APT to be entertained and to laugh and maybe even to have your heart-strings tugged, because that's what Shakespeare was all about -- entertaining the masses.  And at APT, they work hard to make sure everybody finds delight in the shows.

The Opposite of "Rejoice"

Pastor is always talking about rejoicing, even in the midst of trouble. 

So. Hard. To. Understand.

In my mind, the opposite of "rejoice" is "grieve."
You know -- if you're not happy, then you're sad.

So when you run across a passage like 1 Thessalonians 1:6 ("You received the word in much affliction, with joy in the Holy Spirit"), it messes with my mind.  So I asked a simple question:  "What is the opposite of rejoice?" 

The answer?  "Despair."

Grieving and suffering and hurting and sorrow are NOT the opposite of joy.  Despair is.  Hopelessness is.  Giving-up-on-God's-mercy is the opposite of "rejoice."

Now things are beginning to make sense.

The Upcoming Shopping-Weekend

"Black Friday"?

It's a new-fangled term.  I'd never heard the phrase until my daughter worked at Borders. 

I wasn't crazy about it at first.  Then I began to use it; everybody else does! 

This year, I'm refusing.

I hate the word.  I'm not sure why.  I suspect it's because of the consumeristic hype.  It's also because my distaste for the name has increased as the Friday sales have spilled over onto Thursday.  It's also influenced by the harm done to people (stampeding as shop-doors are unlocked, or crazy rudeness in parking lots). 

A week or so ago I made a decision to refrain from using the phrase "Black Friday."  I've slipped up a couple of times.  But I'm still trying to stick with the much longer description: "the shopping day after Thanksgiving" or "the crazy shopping-weekend at the end of the month." 

"Going to Church"

When I was little, we went to "church."  "Going to church" meant Sunday morning or maybe a Wednesday-evening Lenten service.  It didn't mean dropping by the building to pick up the sweater you left there yesterday.

In recent years, friends talk about going to "Divine Service" or to "worship" or to "Mass" or to "prayers" or even to "celebration service."

[that moment when the light bulb clicks on]

Augsburg Confession, Article 7:  The holy Christian church is

the assembly of all believers among whom the Gospel is preached in its purity and the holy sacraments are administered according to the Gospel.

If you look at it that way, "going to church" doesn't sound any different from "Divine Service"!

Definition of "Engagement"

So if a couple is living together,
if they have a legal contract for rent or mortgage,
if they co-own pets, furniture, bank accounts,

what is it to become engaged?

Gary suggests that engagement really doesn't have anything to do with marriage (for most people out there in the world today) but is more about planning a big hoopla of a party ... and possibly a splendiferous vacation/honeymoon too.

And that would be why we Christians appear to be such oddities -- focused more on the decades-long marriage than on the day-long wedding.

And it would also explain why so many living-together couples end up divorcing not long into the marriage.  Sometimes the thing they had in common was the event of the wedding, and once that's past, it's past.

Bowed Down

My posture has gone downhill significantly in the last couple of months.  I keep noticing how slumpy I am while driving, how my shoulders droop when standing.  I keep telling myself to straighten up, and my faked-out good posture lasts for a whoppin' five minutes.  Or less.

This week I noticed in the psalms where it says "I bowed down heavily, as one who mourns" or "my soul is bowed down to the dust" or "the Lord raises up those who are bowed down." 

Huh.  So it's not just a figure of speech.
The body really does end up "bowed down" when the heart grieves.

Glue

Gluten.  The sticky stuff in pasta and wheat.  The reason you can make paste or glue by mixing water and white flour.

GLUten.
GLUe.
And they're from the same Latin root.

Cool.

"Bless You!"

AaaaaCHOO.
Gesundheit.  That is, "good health."

One lovely day when I was sitting at the feet of John Kleinig, the good doctor mentioned that people chafe if we preach to them.  People don't want us to speak the Gospel to them.  They really don't want to hear the Law.  Some won't mind too much if you say that you pray for them.

But he said nobody gets upset if you bless them.

You know what?

I think he's right.

AaaaaCHOO.
God bless you.

And then, when you say out loud

"God bless you,"

in your heart you can also

beg the Lord to bless this person.

 

His Exodus

Isn't it cool? 

In Luke's version of the Transfiguration (chapter 9), Jesus is talking with Moses and Elijah about "His decease" -- literally His "exodus."  His way out or path out.   

And what's the story immediately before this one?  Jesus is talking about taking up the cross to follow Him.

Follow Him. 
The way out.

Doth

Boy, the things you learn in choir....

"Doth" does not rhyme with "moth." It says like "duth," like as if it rhymed with "us" said-by-a-kid-with-a-lisp.

I guess it makes sense: it should sound like "does" except for the zzz.

"Funny" to Forgive Somebody?

One morning recently, as we were opening at work, somebody inadvertently left out a step.  Beep beep beep.  The alarm sounded. The security company phoned to determine whether the alarm was an accident or something alarming.  My boss answered the phone and jumped through the hoops to verify what needed to be proved.  She concluded with, "I'm sorry.  I forgot to ...." After her brief explanation, she listened for a moment.  And then she started chuckling.

When she got off the phone, she told us that he'd said, "Oh, I forgive you." 

She was amazed by that.  He'd said, "I forgive you."  That was really weird.  WHY would he say, "I forgive you"?  She laughed about that on-and-off for another 15-20 minutes. 



A friend of mine told me that they'd been taught in premarital catechesis not to say, "I'm sorry" and "That's okay."  They'd been told it would be more helpful to say something on the order of "I hurt you" or "I sinned against you" and to respond with "It's forgotten" or "I forgive you for Jesus' sake."

At our house and with my friends, we usually say "I'm sorry" and "That's okay."  Sometimes I feel guilty about that.  It's hard to say "I forgive you" not because the forgiveness is hard.  What's hard is the admission that, yes, what the other person did was just plain wrong and sinful.  It's easier when we act like it's not a big deal, when we sweep it away with "That's okay." 

I know people who are so good about saying "I forgive you."  I want to hear "I forgive you."  But saying it?

What I saw the other day makes me realize that there are two completely different meanings behind "I'm sorry."  One is contrition, and the only response is to forgive.  But most of the time in our country, "I'm sorry" is a polite phrase.  There is no sorrow or grief behind the words.  So "I forgive you" sounds bizarre, funny, maybe even insulting, to those who aren't sorry-from-the-gut when they say "sorry."

Pun Gone Wrong

Four-year-old Alia told me, with a sneaky twinkle in her eyes, that "a goose was coming out of my pants leg." 

Well, okay.  I wasn't sure what that meant, but that's okay.

Then her mommy said, "You mean a CALF is coming out of Nanna's pants leg??"

Oh.  Yes.  That's it!

So ... the names of some body parts aren't as obvious as others ....

Humble Cattle

The English translation of "From Heaven Above to Earth I Come" used to read:
... that Thou dost choose Thine infant bed
where humble cattle lately fed.

I noticed this year that the new translation goes:
... that You should choose to lay Your head
where lowly cattle lately fed.

Lowly.  Humble.  It's the same thing.

But somehow we've turned "humble" into something to brag about, something to admire, something to work toward, something for which we [oxymoronically] pat ourselves on the back.

In the modern definition of "humble" it must sound mighty queer to anthropomorphize the cattle by suggesting that they possess the quality of humility.  But that's NOT what humility is!

Someday I'm going to have to 

tell the story of the Humble Girl.

Words That Are Often Confused

During the recent election I kept hearing a radio ad for a certain politician.  The ads contrasted the status quo of one candidate with the new ideals and energy of the opponent.  The candidate talked about the "10th-century ideals" of the other party. Would the electorate accept or reject liberal ideals in the aftermath of the recession?

Do they mean ideals?  Were they saying what they meant?  Or were they confusing "ideal" with "idea"?  After all, there are similarities between the words.  An ideal is, after all, one kind of idea.  But somehow I think somebody thought "idea" is sometimes spelled with a silent-L.  (Pssst.  It's not.)





When people are in a coma, they do not lose "conscienceness."  Your conscience is your moral compass.  It pricks when you've done wrong.  "Conscious" means you're aware; it's what you are once you've come out of that coma.  Besides, one is a noun and the other is an adjective.



There also seems to be confusion out there in the big wide world about losing things.  I understand why: when something is loose (like the screw that holds your eyeglasses together) you may lose the item.  When you're talking about clothing or the twist-tie on the bread or how your car tire is attached to the axle, loose is the opposite of tight.  When you're talking about freedom versus captivity, loose is the opposite of bound.  (See, it's not that different from the opposite of "tight.")  But lose is the opposite of win, or the opposite of find.  "Loose" rhymes with "goose," but "lose" rhymes with "ooze."  Yes, the single-O or double-O doesn't change the vowel sound in those words; the number of O's changes the S-sound from ssss to zzzzz.




Shall we all recite the quote together?
"I do not think that word means what you think it means."

 And thus concludes my current rant about spelling.

Anthropomorphizing God?

The math books we're using this year are marvelous.   They cover all sorts of non-math stuff too!  So last week we were reading about anthropomorphizing* pets.  Or a chair.  Or a clock.  Or the sun.  The author also mentioned that some people anthropomorphize God.

Think about that.

Can somebody anthropomorphize YOU in a story?  Can a news article anthropomorphize a rock star or a politician? 

It's nonsensical. 

So how can GOD be anthropomorphized?

Sure, you can do it if you're Muslim or Jewish or Hindu.  You might even think it's possible to anthropomorphize God if you believe what too many Christians believe: that Jesus quit being a man and went back to being "just God" when He ascended to the Father's right hand. 

But we trust in a God who was incarnate.  Our God is a man.  So how can we even talk about "anthropomorphizing" somebody who's human?



* footnote: ascribing human characteristics 
to a non-human creature or object

Gimme Nouns!

Imagine a paragraph with 37 pronouns, 0 nouns, and 14 nondescript verbs (such as "have," "got," "was," and "did").  For some reason, I seldom understand tales told in that fashion.  I guess I'm just flawed that way. 

Stuffed Brain

Writing helps me think.  Writing helps me solve problems.  Writing helps me wind down. Writing helps keep me sane.  (Or at least helps me fake sanity.)

My blogging recently has been shallow.  There are all sorts of topics I want to write about, but they would take time.  It doesn't take long to write, but it does take time to think things through before writing them.  And I don't have time to think these days.  (No time to think?  Gasp!)  And then ideas sit in my mind, piling up, befuddling me, being jumbled with other piles-of-ideas.  And it all leaves my blog in a boring state, t'boot.

Y'know how you feel so much better after you've cleared the kitchen counters, or cleaned the bedroom, or organized that closet?  Getting rid of clutter feels great!  Well, I could use a week with no responsibilities except for straightening out my brain. After all, clutter there needs to be thinned and put in order too.