Brahms

I was very late in warming up to Brahms. Perhaps one needs to achieve a certain age or maturity. I guess I always considered him superfluous to Beethoven, which was, ironically, his lifelong fear.

Or, perhaps, all I needed was to know something about the man. Brahms was a genius. The quality of his compositions is second to none. Not Bach, not even Mozart. Because he was so self-deprecating, he only allowed highly perfected works to see the light of publishing. So, not only is his output of exceptional quality, it is exceptionally consistently so.

His music tends to be weighty. This might have been part of my delay. He was a man who experienced addictions and heartbreak. Well into middle age, he fell completely in love with the daughter of his friend Robert Schumann. She was in her teens at the time - a hopelessly impossible attraction even for that time. Later he composed a masterpiece - the Alto Rhapsody - and gave it to her for a wedding present. Imagine getting a full blown, for the ages, masterpiece, full of passion and longing from, basically, your uncle for a wedding present.

So, he came by the depth reflected in his music naturally. But the real worth of the music, and the thing that took me so long to recognize, is how clearly it reflects a man who has come out the other side. His requiem, for example. It has been described as "a work that seems to tell us, with the utmost civility and compassion, that dying is neither the most frightening nor the most terrible thing a human can do". Here is a man who is at peace with what is, including himself.

Tonight was the going-away party for the DeWetters. Over 300 people attended. The usual ladies (thank you, thank you, Georgia, Katherine, and Nancy!) did a wonderful job organizing it. Tracy, a relative newcomer to St. James, put together an exceptional video of goodbyes, well wishing, and remembering. It was a perfect goodbye celebration.

So, when I came home afterward, I was at a loss about what to do with the evening. Upon a bit of consideration, Brahms was perfect.

Robert

Robert is leaving. Soon. They had a yard sale last weekend.

I've known a lot of pastors in my life. Most served the church I attended at the time, but others were members of The Word of God. Those I got to know a bit beyond the man in the pulpit. Then there were a few who where both: Pastor Joest and Pastor Ted.

Pastor Ted was the first to have significant impact on my life. Part of this had to do with who he is, part with how long he served, and part with the fact that he was my first Pastor as an adult. Pastor Ted was also the last person I (mostly subconciously) tried to make a father figure for myself, but that goes beyond the scope of this post. Pastor Ted did two things that stand out most. First, he provided some excellent counselling for Lisa and I through a rough stretch. Second, he called out my leadership ability.

Following Pastor Ted was Pastor Mossman. Pastor Mossman was an interim who ended up staying longer than he planned. I didn't have to try to make him a father figure - he just was. Pastor Mossman really wanted me to become a pastor. Some of us went to a conference and he took me around introducing me to various people who might play a part in me moving in that direction (synod presidents and seminary people). He also gave me his copy of Luther's Works (50 some volumes). Sometimes I feel a bit like I let him down, but I'm sure he would understand that my life just didn't go that way.

When I first started going to St. James, the rest of the fam was still in A2. It was a lonely time and the loneliness brought grief out of remission (I don't have to tell most of you about that...). There was an announcement in the bulletin about spiritual direction being available. I made an appointment. I met Robert in his office and we started with the typical intro type stuff. Robert mentioned that, prior to becoming a priest, he had been a psychologist working on a pediatric oncology unit. I knew then that St. James was our new church. Robert provided me with a lot of spiritual direction over the next 5 years. He pretty much walked with me as grief ate away the faith that had characterized my life up to that point, through the desert that followed, and out the other side. Sometimes, it seemed, his benediction "No matter what you're feeling or may be experiencing..." was all that got me through the week spiritually.

My experience of Robert has been that he's been an excellent priest. But, he's also become a friend. Given the nature of the pastoral role, that is pretty rare. It takes a special person to pull it off. The other notable thing is, and I've mentioned this often, how healthy St. James is. Robert's ministry has certainly played a part in this.

My faith is different than before we moved here. In important ways, it feels much deeper, sort of tempered. At the same time, I feel like I carry it much lighter than before. It's like I have nothing to prove or something. Like I don't have to subconciously convince myself or that it's a reflection of other's expectations. Like Jacob, I've got this limp as a reminder (or is it a missing finger?).

So, I'm losing a friend. I've got a lot of other friends who are in the same boat and that helps. We'll get a new priest and things will move on. But Robert will always be one of those critical people who came along just at the right time and through whom God worked.

Trillium progress

I've been building a pair of loudspeakers for my stereo. I named them the 'Trilliums' which is a rather ironic name, given that the name refers to a small, rather pretty flower. These things are by no means small and as for pretty, well...

Designing and building loudspeakers is a very difficult thing to do. I've spent a long time (as in years) learning about the drivers (tweeters, midranges, and woofers), the enclosures, and the crossovers. It's all very complicated. But I've finally moved past the 'armchair designer' phase.

Building the enclosures has some challenges, like cutting the facets on the front baffle (see picture below), but designing the crossover will be the hardest part. The crossover is the circuitry that sends the high frequency sound to the tweeter, the middle to the midrange and the low frequencies to the woofers (in case you didn't know that). There are software packages that make this much easier, but it's still very complicated.

Yesterday I finished the first of the two enclosures. I installed the drivers and lugged it up into their future home (living room) to see how they'll fit in. Andrew helped me with the hoisting (that's hoist, not foist). I'd guess it weighs over 80 pounds and might break 100 when it's done.

Here's a picture:

Isn't it Heeuuuge? Personally, I think it dominates the room too much. But, Gem likes them (a lot) and that matters more than what I think (hey, if they sound good, I'm happy). The enclosure is currently raw medium density fiberboard. Later, I'll cover them with a fancy veneer. I'd love to use birdseye maple, but that would run about $600, so I'll probably use something like curly cherry, curly maple, movingue, or mottled makore).

Anyway, I'm having a lot of fun with it and they should be pretty awesome when they're done. By the way, the facets serve the purpose of reducing diffraction of the sound waves off of the flat baffle surface. Just one instance of the complications involved. They do look cool, too. :-)

Snow Geese

If you've never seen snow geese, they are very cool. They look like regular geese, but with white bodies, which gives them a more elegant appearance. Twice a year, a good number of them camp out for a few days in the field behind a farm across the street.

So, yesterday, I went outside to replace a headlight and a flock of 20 or so flew about 40 feet directly overhead.

It made me homesick.

Not that I ever saw snow geese before coming here...

Finally done!

Well, I finally completed my custom basement cabinets. I think they turned out quite well. Not commercial grade quality, but not shabby either. I think they need shelves above them, but Gem wants the full expanse of countertop visible. We'll keep negotiating and, regardless, they wouldn't be started until the polyurethaning (warm) weather returns.

On to the next project. 83 to go!

What makes you happy?

So, C J sent me a link to a video on YouTube. It is a pretty silly video (methinks), but she said it makes her happy.

As often happens, this converged with two other interactions to form a trio to which I knew I needed to pay attention.

The first was a question Gem posited while we were at Creekside (not A2's closest approximation of Zingerman's). I had just finished litanizing (Clem, is that a word?) on the areas of life that are really hard right now, prompting her to ask if anything was enjoyable.

The second was catching snatches of "The Pursuit of Happiness", the new movie with Will Smith. It is about a man who struggles to provide for his family and has a rough go of it, but eventually triumphs.

As I reflected, I realized that I'm not sure I pursue happiness very much anymore. I think I've replaced seeking happiness with seeking respite. That should probably change.

So, as a small start in that direction, here are some things that make me happy:

• human diversity
• watching airplanes fly
• staring at the lake in not A2
• catching a fish
• planing a piece of wood
• finding an elusive and desirable record
• rollerblading
• writing in my blog

These are, of course, additional to the usual suspects - like being with my family and friends and harassing the bowz.

Some of these things I haven't enjoyed in a long time.

Meaning of Christmas - a sermon

With Christmas a day away (no, I'm not done shopping!), it is important to remember the meaning of the holiday:

'Christmas means

Carnage!'

When I was in A² last weekend, I had a chance to watch Babe with two young nephews (the exceedingly cute Pete and Derek). It was a lot of fun. I watched the movie while they wrestled with me like sheepdog pups.

I love the portrayal of joyful innocence in the character of Babe. Such pure innocence isn't shown very much these days. It is what informs Babe's kindness and respect for everyone. For me, the highlight of this innocence is when Babe breaks into singing 'Jingle Bells'. I'm only a tiny bit ashamed to admit that I fought back tears the first few times I watched that part. There is something powerfully right about innocence. Something we don't like to admit. Something we choose to deny. It is one of those things in the world that just seems too costly. I think, deep down, we know that we are meant to be innocent and have chosen not to be. Somehow we have this sense that we once were innocent or could have chosen to remain innocent, but we made the choice to go down the other way at the fork in the road.

We all seem to have this primordial recollection of going happily down the road and, to our total and rude surprise, being confronted with this fork. The fork has a big sign that gives directions. This sign is what we call reality. In the movie this is expressed as 'just the way things are'. That's a pretty good way to put it. Here are some of the things written on that sign:

• Life is not intrinsically fair.
• Bad things happen to good people.
• You cannot have life without death.
• Our relationship with 'the Boss' is very different than we feel it should be.

What makes Babe different from the other animals is that he doesn't just roll over and accept 'the way things are'. He hangs on to the way things could be. This inevitably leads to crisis. After all, reality is real. As expressed in the movie, the boss really does eat bacon. The cat is right (though, notice that Hogget had already decided to spare Babe).

Then, some very interesting things begin to happen. Having hung on to innocence to the point of crisis, Babe starts to be transformed. This transformation is what is lost to those who simply accept 'the way things are'. The means by which this transformation takes place is trust. Babe takes the water from the bottle Hogget is holding.

In the sheepherding competition, we see the consistent reaction of those who have chosen the path of acceptance when confronted by the transformation in another. First comes ridicule, then speechlessness and, finally, applause. This is the progression by which the fruit of the transformation is born. And, that fruit is glory. It is what all of us most deeply long for.

Having read the sign of reality, there is no way back to where we were before we read it. But, no matter how far we've walked down the path of acceptance, we can always backtrack and choose the path of transformation. This is the meaning of Christmas. But, what about Christmas meaning carnage? Well, in the real story, of which Babe is but a partial allegory, it is 'the boss' who dies, becoming the meal for the farm animals. This real story is so preposterous that it must be divine. At least, that's how I see it.

Merry Christmas.