I found myself with something of an idea a few days back, and I wanted to share it, send it out, spread it abroad to all and any who may read these words of mine - today or in a day yet to come. Some might argue it's not wise to share ideas of brilliance, as they can be mocked, they can be used, they be claimed by others as their own in this unscrupulous world. Others might laugh with derision at my assertion "brilliance', viewing such a moniker as lacking in humility, and thus any virtue requiring notice.
Perhaps.
There is a certain case to be made for the existence of thieves, who profit on others' flashes of inspiration and hard work. However, who am I to manifest any work with this light bulb hanging over my head. I have not the means to develop anything beyond what words I might be able to offer here. Thus, hence is my idea.
A song was written, a decade or two back, by a man with the name of Mark Lowry. While he recorded it, I believe, it was made popular by another singer, Michael English; and it has been recorded multiple times, on multiple occasions, over the years since. One of those recordings was by a vocal group, Pentatonix, who are known for their rich harmonies and haunting vocals. I was listening to their rendition of the song, over the Christmas season, and it struck how easily it could serve as a template for a new type of Christmas movie. Consider, for a moment, the story of the Nativity, taken from Mary's perspective. What did she think when the angel appeared her, announcing she would be the vessel for God's entry into the world? Was she see an earthly king? Or was she seeing what actually transpired?
Build a new movie around Mary, as a young mother, watching her children at play. She sees her young son Jesus, playing with his siblings; and she remembers the angel Gabriel with his announcement. She remembers escape into Egypt. She remembers the return to Nazareth. She remembers the prophecies in the temple. She remembers finding Jesus in the temple, speaking with the elders.
Then, as she watches Him continue to play, she foresees His future, making this telling of the Gospel account both Christmas and Easter in one - with Mary as the narrator, telling the story through what experiences, what she imagines, even what she fears.
Saturday, January 26, 2019
Saturday, January 19, 2019
a matter of courtesy
A funny thing happened to me while going about my normal morning routine one day. It wasn't anything of extraordinary circumstances; rather, it was mundane and sadly predictable. Nevertheless, it became an action which irked me. I thought to myself, 'How dare you have such disregard for where I sit.'
My normal morning routine is to venture out to a nearby coffeeshop, find myself a place by the window (the windows offer wonderful views of the outdoors), and engage in a few hours of reading the Scriptures, coupled with the stereotypical coffee mug and occasional bagel or pastry to munch on at my side.
One of these mornings, as the day began to dawn over the horizon, and my time was nearing an end for that portion of my day, a man whom I did not know, nor had I ever seen before that moment, stepped over to where I was sitting and began to lower the shades of the window at my side. I understood why he was doing this. The sun was beaming through the window, and it could have been striking him, or a companion of his, in the eyes, causing discomfort to his own morning ritual. What tossed me into a quiet stew was the utter lack of any courtesy in asking my permission first before even reaching for the chords to the shades that would diffuse the light of the sun. I had no problem in letting the shades be lowered - though, for myself, I always prefer sunlight to any lack thereof. What I objected to, in my quiet stewing, was the callous way this man went about doing what he wished, regardless to whether I agreed to the same or not.
Granted, such is a trivial, trifling thing. I could easily acquiesce to the lowering of the shades, just as the man could easily have put up with a few moments of the sun beating up his countenance - as its light would have moved in time's short span. What vexed me then, as it vexes me now, is one person's attitude in seeing his way as being implicitly agreed to by all other simply because he cannot consider a new view, i.e. perhaps I preferred the shade open.
A little bit of courtesy, in first asking to lower the shade, acknowledges another person may hold a different perception of the sun, welcoming its warming embrace and clarity of light, and diffuses the potential for any hard feelings which immediately result from such a callous and discourteous act as what I experience. Again, granted, such is a trivial matters; but it stands as indicative of a larger cultural problem, where one person does not acknowledge the perspectives of another person because the second person is not acknowledged at all.
The more we come to acknowledge the existence of other people, and the contrasting views they may hold to our own, the more we can engage with one another to avoid more or the like-minded trivial happenings in our day to day to day.
My normal morning routine is to venture out to a nearby coffeeshop, find myself a place by the window (the windows offer wonderful views of the outdoors), and engage in a few hours of reading the Scriptures, coupled with the stereotypical coffee mug and occasional bagel or pastry to munch on at my side.
One of these mornings, as the day began to dawn over the horizon, and my time was nearing an end for that portion of my day, a man whom I did not know, nor had I ever seen before that moment, stepped over to where I was sitting and began to lower the shades of the window at my side. I understood why he was doing this. The sun was beaming through the window, and it could have been striking him, or a companion of his, in the eyes, causing discomfort to his own morning ritual. What tossed me into a quiet stew was the utter lack of any courtesy in asking my permission first before even reaching for the chords to the shades that would diffuse the light of the sun. I had no problem in letting the shades be lowered - though, for myself, I always prefer sunlight to any lack thereof. What I objected to, in my quiet stewing, was the callous way this man went about doing what he wished, regardless to whether I agreed to the same or not.
Granted, such is a trivial, trifling thing. I could easily acquiesce to the lowering of the shades, just as the man could easily have put up with a few moments of the sun beating up his countenance - as its light would have moved in time's short span. What vexed me then, as it vexes me now, is one person's attitude in seeing his way as being implicitly agreed to by all other simply because he cannot consider a new view, i.e. perhaps I preferred the shade open.
A little bit of courtesy, in first asking to lower the shade, acknowledges another person may hold a different perception of the sun, welcoming its warming embrace and clarity of light, and diffuses the potential for any hard feelings which immediately result from such a callous and discourteous act as what I experience. Again, granted, such is a trivial matters; but it stands as indicative of a larger cultural problem, where one person does not acknowledge the perspectives of another person because the second person is not acknowledged at all.
The more we come to acknowledge the existence of other people, and the contrasting views they may hold to our own, the more we can engage with one another to avoid more or the like-minded trivial happenings in our day to day to day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)