Silent Sounds

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

-- Simon and Garfunkel

One of the Good Guys

Here's an article about one of the "good" guys:


Steelers' spiritual leader

By Jason Cole, Yahoo! Sports
August 11, 2006

LATROBE, Pa. – Troy Polamalu may believe that training camp is an utter waste of time, but the Pro Bowl safety also can't seem to get enough of it.

In the afternoon, Polamalu could be seen on the field again, this time in deep conversation with Steelers defensive lineman Shaun Nua as the two kneeled there long after their teammates had left.

"Sort of what I was explaining to Shaun is that life is not about football. Football is all a part of life, so we have to face each moment and – him being a Christian – to glorify God in each situation," Polamalu said. "So we can't be overburdened with football things and Xs and Os, trying to please a coach or the media or the fans while trying to glorify God."

Entering his fourth season, Polamalu has the requisite skill as a player and has a vital role as the strong safety in Pittsburgh's blitz-oriented defense. More importantly, he has a belief system that seems to stop short of being holier than thou. In other words, he's a good man who also appears to be a good guy who can fit into a locker room filled with diverse personalities and lifestyles.

While talking about his faith, Polamalu emphasized that "these are my beliefs."
"He is a highly intellectual player," Steelers coach Bill Cowher said. "He has a real feel for the game. He studies tape and he's one of the smartest guys I have been around in my 15 years. So I just respect him. When he does something that makes you wonder, you usually listen to what he says because there is usually some good reason."

It's all true and the essence of what Polamalu is saying is part of his beauty. He is a trusting, hard-working soul who doesn't see himself as unique.
Perhaps that's what makes Cowher smile so broadly when talking about him, even though there are moments that frustrate Cowher. Such as when the Pittsburgh defense comes off the field and Cowher wants to talk to Polamalu. The coach has to wait.
Polamalu has a higher authority to address.
"After a series, you want to go talk to him about what he sees, but after every series he goes over and prays," Cowher said. "So you kind of have to give him his time while he puts his head down. I'm usually trying to get back to the offense to watch them, so I'm waiting and waiting and I just couldn't wait anymore. He was in a really deep thought and I just couldn't wait anymore."

Polamalu smiles softly when asked about that. "Mother Theresa said that she got to a point in her life where she had constant conversation with God. If God, as everyone describes it, can be omnipresent and omnipotent, we could essentially be walking around and talking to him like we are now," Polamalu said. "So there was a point where I would always come to the sideline [and pray], but even during the game I feel [I'm talking to God] because the game is all about struggle. The game is about adversity, life is about adversity. The same struggle you face in life, you face in football."

Jason Cole is a national NFL writer for Yahoo! Sports.

Impasse

I find myself at an impasse
Caught somewhere between the future, present and past
Mind, body and soul find refuge in all three
My singular note has reverberated into a bittersweet symphony

A division threatens to undo my being
Broken glass attempts to block my path
Adventuring through such a maze, but never becoming
All that is behind, with and before me claims to last

Voices whisper like the ceaseless chirping of crickets at night
Each one gives a different take on that which is wrong and right
My spirit sags under the burden of discernment
My heart fails at the thought of abandonment

Standing firm only to sit still
The incoming tide batters my will
Whose hand is the one who reaches for me
How can I know when I cannot see?

Empathy

"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view ... until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."

- Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird

Animal

A friend recently shared a line from this song with me, and since I have heard it get significant airplay, I thought I'd print out the lyrics to spark some deep thinking. The song is entitled, "Animal I Have Become," and it is performed by a group called Three Days Grace.


I can't escape this hell
So many times i've tried
But i'm still caged inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one will ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
(This animal, this animal)

I can't escape myself
(I can't escape myself)
So many times i've lied
(So many times i've lied)
But there's still rage inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one will ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal

Somebody help me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
Somebody wake me from this nightmare
I can't escape this hell

(This animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal, this animal)

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one will ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal
(This animal I have become)

The Great Wall

Ever felt like you were standing at the Great Wall of China?

No steps.

No ladder.

No way over.

Definitely a draining moment.

How do you reach the other side without any help?

Language

How does one communicate?

What forms transcend the limitations of oral communication?

What language supercedes the physical, non-verbal communication?

In a world of "communication-technology":

cell phones
the internet
IM
land lines
webcams
blackberries

Why is communication becoming a lost art?

Why are we becoming more limited and more frustrated by our inability to communicate with others?

There is a language of the soul.

Maybe someday we will find it.

Disturbance

I found the following words on another blog and thought they were powerful, convicting, and needed to be shared:


Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.
Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

—Circa 1577, Attributed to Sir Francis Drake

Grace Reminder

Lately, I have spent a lot of time reading and rereading 1 Corinthians 1. The chapter intrigues me because I know what comes later in the apostle Paul's letter to the church at Corinth.

The problems at Corinth are well-documented: 1)misunderstanding of freedom in Christ; 2) the rise of rival factions; 3) incest; 4) church members taking each other to court; etc.

What draws my interest in chapter one is how Paul addresses these messed up people who comprise this messed up church: "the sanctified;" "the saints." Some biblical commentators posit the theory that Paul is softening his readers up before delivering harsh words of rebuke. I guess that is a strategy in some writing styles, but I have reached a different conclusion.

Paul calls them "the sanctified" and "the saints" because that is what they are. Their sins, which are many and heinous (then again, aren't all sins heinous) does not negate who they are. Do changes need to be made? Yes. Is confession and repentance necessary? Absolutely. But their sin does not even come close to rivaling God's grace.

So Paul reminds them:

* You belong to Jesus (1:4)
* God has enriched you (1:5)
* You have every spiritual gift you need (1:6)
* Jesus will keep you strong (1:8)
* Jesus will keep you free from blame (1:8)
* God always keeps his word (1:9)

Throughout my life in church I have seen people fall, confess and repent of their sin, and then be reminded of that sin by other Christians for the rest of their lives. Some give up and leave church. Others persevere through the irony of being persecuted most harshly by fellow Christ-followers. And others seem helpless as their joy is sucked out.

Someone the other day was talking to me about how a congregation he visited spent too much time talking about grace. He called such rhetoric "trite." I was appalled at his comment. There is nothing "trite" about grace.

Grace is what propels me to do more, give more, and open myself up more to where God is leading. Rules don't do that. Systems cannot create that attitude. And church policy is impotent at achieving such results.

Paul knows the Corinthians have some major changes to make. So he reminds them of what they have because of God's grace. The foundation he lays for them will prove, in light of words to come, to be saving grace.

Thanks, Paul.

I needed that reminder as well.

Numb

Anyone relate to these words by Linkin Park?

I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless lost under the surface
I don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
Every step that I take is another mistake to you

I've become so numb
I can't feel you there
Become so tired
So much more aware
I'm becoming this all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you

Can't you see that your smothering me
Holding too tightly afraid to lose control
Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you

And I know
I may end up failing too
But I know you were just like me
With someone disappointed in you

I've become so numb
I can't feel you there
Become so tired
So much more aware
I'm becoming this all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you

Wish

I wish I knew.

Highway of Dreams

Conflict brews in a confused heart
The barrage of questions hits the soul like a carefully thrown dart

Who, what, where, when, why, how
Are more than just questions flowing from a journalist's pen
They are soul-speak, heart-talk
A desperate attempt to reconcile the intellect and the emotion

Purpose your destiny
And then cast not a fleeting glance
Trust not the sympathy
For it never lasts

Each step becomes a calculated endeavor
Each moment is born from the disarray
Two roads converge and refuse to yield to each other
Confusion reigns on the highway of dreams

Hopeful Pictures?

One of the most special places for my family to visit is Cane Ridge. The old meetinghouse where Barton Stone preached still stands, protected from the elements by a superstructure.

It was in this pulpit that Stone preached the necessity that all followers of Christ be united. It was in this pulpit that he attacked beliefs like predestination and boldly proclaimed that all are free to come to Christ.

I have stood in this pulpit many times, but as I watched my children -- Hannah and Drew -- stand where Stone once stood, I became hopeful for the future. Maybe a new generation will arise that will recapture the vision of our spiritual ancestors. There is still hope.




On a different note, this picture shows one of the highlights of the visit to Cane Ridge. My grandfather donated most of the items in the museum at Cane Ridge. Whenever the curator or tour guide finds out whose grandson I am, we usually get special treatment. This visit was no exception. I noticed an old book in one of the cases. It was a first edition of the Living Oracles (Alexander Campbell's translation of the New Testament). I had seen one before, but this one was unique. it belonged to Walter Scott (preacher who developed the five-finger plan of salvation). I remarked to the guide that this was a rare treasure. She looked at me and in a whisper said, "Would you like to hold it? I can take it out of the case if you want to hold it."

I nodded enthusiastically, and held the book with trembling hands as cold chills went up and down my spine. Here, I held in my hands, this translation of the New Testament that Walter Scott carried around with him. Like standing in Stone's pulpit, this was a humbling experience.

History can be exhilarating.