the flux of life finds a resting point in silence
Originally uploaded by cwdaniels.

Life is influx. The faces keep changing. Memories keep fading, while new roads we travel. i don’t see the future as clear as I would like to. I am like the blind beggar, wondering where my next meal will come from, will there be a meal, when I receive this masters. Will a phd put emily and i into a bind that we will ever recover from. Am i a thinker? an intellect? the kind of man like who like George Fox changed the world when he spoke? Am i the unsettling kind of person, who will disrupt the flow of the universe? Don’t i want to be? but what about creativity, which flows from my pores? which flows from all that i know, every open and closed door? not to over-estimate myself but i love to create and bring to life, i want to create a monster that moves counter to the flow for which humanity is sucked into death. I want my monster to reach out his hand, only to touch the dying, the poor, the hurt, and the young mothers weeping for their aborted children, weeping for their aborted fathers, and mothers and memories that were washed away with this rain of deceit, and greed, and capitalism and democracy, and nostalgic christianity that means bullshit. I want my monster to reach out with the hand of a mother and the face of a father, the heart of a lover and the words of a professor, with the strength of a construction worker and the softness of a nurse – with the breathe of life and the eyes of death – with the purity of Jesus and the blood of pilate. This monster will be friend and foe, like Christ is to me, and all the people i know. understanding that life is here and there, moving to and fro, to the depths of pain and discomforts to the pleasures of rest and warm fires. Though i hate that i only see through this window into the cold southern california rain, and see no further than my own troubles, i realize that there is hope and that my Life is influx.

emily and i are watching this special on Bush and his faith on PBS. I was so happy that Jim Wallis from Sojourners was on there, because there was at least one person there saying look people this is “bad theology.” There is no such thing as righteous war, there is no such thing as a righteous nation, or a nation that is God-ordained. We are in the post nationalist age, we are in the age of Christ’s mission, the body of Christ is the only thing that is ordained by God, and yet we know that we make many mistakes, but the one thing we have is our love of Christ to all people, the terrorists as well as the…southern baptists…

I like what the commentator said, “George Bush has commented that his faith has led his to make his decisions, when most of these decision reflect conservative christian agendas.” A holy empire? Constantinianism? We are moving toward a very danger place when we beging to rule moral by coercion. this is what constantinople did a thousand years ago when the empire killed hundreds of thousands because they would not convert…maybe that’s what america could do, maybe we should force everyone to do as we say! that sounds excatly like nothing Jesus ever came anywhere near suggesting.

"I am the woman with no head"
Originally uploaded by cwdaniels.

I just started using flickr.com, it is a pretty sweet site. I heard about it through macworld. you might like to try it out – it is mac friendly which is the biggest plus. This is a picture of me playing my folk music back in Ohio a couple years back now. It is kind of in honor of finishing Dylan’s “Chronicles.” A book that has urged me back to back to the guitar, back to music, an expression that has been lost over the last year, since my dad killed himself. So i wander into a dark room, pick up my guitar, a gift from my wife, and begin to draw roads maps to my soul out for the world to see.

Madness and kicking it anabaptist style:
We just got done playing our fuller flag tournament. Sparkle motion lost in its second game. we fought hard and went down swinging, what more could you want in a loss? Finals are only 6 more days. then freedom – well at least for 3 weeks. I need it.

in our Old Testament class we this qtr we had to do creative projects on a psalm. I did a video and thus cannot put it up on here because it is too big, but i have something even more provocative than one of my “justice for the poor” videos. this poem below was created by a friend of mine, Joel Short. He kind of built it off of Psalm 16, he obviously took some liberties but kind of made it current for our situation. I encourage you to read it and comment on his perspectives.

he is not a Quaker but i think he would make a good one. 🙂

To the theme of Psalm 16 by Joel Short

Psst.
God, don’t step backwards.
I’m hiding here behind you.

Remember, Yahweh?
I’m the one who loves you.
You are my God,
my only hope for joy.

But just look around us
in every direction,
people stumbling over each other
to fornicate with other gods:

they parade for the goddess Macy’s
and stand in line to offer her cash,
work their fingers bloody and pave your planet ash-grey for the SUV gods
feed bloodied corpses to the goddess America (and demand that you bless her)
seek out dark and secret corners to submit to Lust
(through her avatars Pornography, Prostitution, Infidelity),
recline religiously before the Television god
to learn what to crave, what to fear, what to hate.

They scream the Torah of Fox News in the breakroom
or chant the Wisdom of goddess Oprah at cocktail parties.
In the Temple Starbucks they commune on the full-bodied bean juice of the Caffeine god;
they twist, bend, pump, and grunt their devotion to their own bodies in Fitness Centers,
then pour libations of alcohol to the god Good Times in the name of the god Friendship.
Keeping Football’s sacred Sabbath, honoring the Weekend to keep it fun,
planning services for the Dating god, festivals for the Wedding goddess, nursuries for the Maternal Instinct god,
chasing the elusive god Knowledge through libraries, classrooms and books on CD,
hallowing the deity Domesticity in how-to TV shows, then streaming to the holy mountain of Home Depot,
flipping through Cosmopolitan, Martha Stewart magazines, Craft Fairs, Salons in search of the godess Feminine Mystique,
pumping deer full of ammunition to feed the blood-lust of insecure Masculinity,
dieting to the god Body Image,
devoting hours of worry and plotting to the mighty goddess Career,
dreaming at night of the Joneses, gods of the neighborhood,
gyrating to the god Youth in bars and night clubs,
blaring music to the god Exhilaration,
tweaking for the god Ecstasy,
vomiting for the god Anxiety,
back-stabbing for the god Success,
pounding their children into temple regalia
gutting the poor and the weak on blood-greased altars
frying their own sacred lives in distraction,
they love themselves orgiastically, cannabalistically
they ache for destruction and release.

Look at them, always tantalized by
the irresistable god Beauty,
the stunning god Style,
the ephemeral goddess Gracefulness,
the snobbish goddess Aesthetics,
the addicting god Attention,
the fleeting goddess Intimacy,
the alluring god Rest,
the comforting god Sentimentality,
the time-eating god Triviality,
the delusional goddess Self-Realization,

Ever taunted by
the stodgy goddess Reputation,
the demanding god Control,
the resentful goddess Manners,
the proud god Cleanliness,
the compulsive god Rule-keeping,
the detached god Reason
the fickle god Health,
the competitive goddess Sophistication,
the demeaning god Sexual Power.

Determined to trade You for
the god Churchianity
the god Worship Experience
the Getting-What-I-Deserve god
the god of Unconsidered Ritual
the Ideology god
the Republican god
the Church Program god
the Denominational god
the Suburban god
the tired and kind Old-Man-Upstairs god.

Feeling left out, God?
The United Union of Powers and Principalities
says these are their terms, Yahweh:
you can join, if you like, they’re even willing to grant you
pride of place in their pantheon – you can be the spokesman,
you can pretend you’re Charlton Heston, you know,
since you’re so old and distinguished,
they’ll see you get change in your offering plate
and a rushed prayer at dinnertime
it’s a win-win,
just agree to stop saying things like
“I scorn your festivals”
and “Is that what you call fasting?”
Surely there’s enough worship to go around?. . .

Smite them into oblivion, Yahweh!
Never will I pour out my life before these gods,
Cling to me, my God.
Keep me from the futile worship of Myself in any of these guises.

Whisper my name to me, Yahweh,
and I know I live,
inhaling as you exhale for me,
dwelling upon you
feeding upon you
my only existence derivative,
subsisting on you presence.

Cuddle into me, my God,
over and beside and under me,
chill me again with your warmth,
with shivers of awe up my neck
and past my ears—remind me
that you won’t abandon me,
that death can’t separate me from you—
for I am in you
and you Will Be
what you Will Be.

One, yet two-parents, in Three:
I am your nestling.
I fly, and you glide beside;
I plummet, you soar beneath.
Cover me eternally
but nudge me forward
into your sky.

There are three weeks left in this insane qtr – Five classes is too much to do in grad school people. I stayed up last night until 1:00 am which is really freaking late for me – I usually and falling asleep by 10. We get up at 6am so that is a needed thing in the Daniels family. Anyways I was working on a Script for this Media and Ministry Class i am taking. It is the first Script i have ever worked on – I have two other people in my group who are a great help and I certainly haven’t done the whole thing but it is fun to be apart of the process. I am going to be the director/camera man for the short which I cannot wait for.

Here is the pitch:
An Italian butcher, a tall Russian photographer, and a beautiful young art
collector are all aquantainces who meet over their favorite cup of coffee. What
they don’t realize is that their hidden identities – as a mobster, robber and
hit woman – are all intertwined in a crazy web of deception and are about
to hurt the ones they love – each other.

It’s called “Over Coffee”
– Though I am somewhat critical of the name at this point.

On another note – I have found some stallness in my own spiritual life – I have gotten to the point of being really preoccupied with “everything.” I hate these moments in life – when I make little time to spend with YWH. I have been praying through the day, and thinking about the Lord, even having good conversation with people. But two things I long for – contemplation and struggling together with those who are in the trenches of life. This is where preoccupation strikes first – I become me-centered – and worrying about all the real things I need to get done, but in the process the real issues of those around me are ever-present and eating away at their spirits (my issues don’t present such peril). As a disciple of Christ I need to be focused on the “struggling with” others.

Emily, Wall and I are going backpacking for Fri and Sat of this coming week, I cannot wait for sometime to remove myself from this hussle bussle of LA.