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http://radicalscrawl.blogspot.com/

 

Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago , writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy:

Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the day I first saw Tommy.  My eyes and my mind both blinked.  He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders.  It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long.  I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped.  I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange... Very strange.

Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course.  He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.
 
When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, "Do you think I'll ever find  God?"
 
I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I said very emphatically.

"Why not," he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing."
 
I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out, "Tommy!  I don't think you'll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!"  He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.

I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line -- He will find you!  At least I thought it was clever. Later I heard that Tommy had graduated, and I was duly grateful. Then a sad report came.  I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer.  Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy.  But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe.

"Tommy, I've thought about you so often; I hear you are sick," I blurted out.
 
"Oh, yes, very sick.  I have cancer in both lungs.  It's a matter of weeks."
 
"Can you talk about it, Tom?" I asked.
 
"Sure, what would you like to know?" he replied.
 
"What's it like to be only twenty-four and dying?"
 
"Well, it could be worse."
 
"Like what?"
 
"Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life.."

I began to look through my mental file cabinet under "S" where I had filed Tommy as strange.  (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)
 
"But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me on the last day of class."  
 
(He remembered!)
 
He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, 'No!' which surprised me. Then you said, 'But He will find you.'  I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time."
 
(My clever line.  He thought about that a lot!)

"But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that's when I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven.  But God did not come out.  In fact, nothing happened.  Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success?  You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying.  And then you quit.

"Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit.  I decided that I didn't really care about God, about an after life, or anything like that.  I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable.  I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.
"So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad.  He was reading the newspaper when I approached him.  'Dad.'
 
'Yes, what?' he asked without lowering the newspaper. 'Dad, I would like to talk with you.'
 
'Well, talk.'
 
'I mean. It's really important'.
 
The newspaper came down three slow inches. 'What is it?'
 
'Dad, I love you, I just wanted you to know that.'"  Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him.  
 
"The newspaper fluttered to the floor.  Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before.  He cried and he hugged me.  We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning.  It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me.

"It was easier with my mother and little brother.  They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other.  We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years. I was only sorry about one thing --- that I had waited so long.  Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.

"Then, one day I turned around and God was there.  He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him.  I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, 'C'mon, jump through.  C'mon, I'll give you three days, three weeks.' Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour.  But the important thing is that He was there.  He found me! You were right.  He found me even after I stopped looking for Him."

"Tommy," I practically gasped, "I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love.  You know, the Apostle John said that.  He said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.' Tom, could I ask you a favor?  You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain.  But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me?  If I told them the same thing it wouldn't be half as effective as if you were to tell it."

"Oooh.. I was ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class."
 
"Tom, think about it.  If and when you are ready, give me a call."
 
In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class that he wanted to do that for God and for me.  So we scheduled a date. However, he never made it.  He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class.  Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed.  He made the great step from faith into vision.  He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined.

Before he died, we talked one last time. "I'm not going to make it to your class," he said.
 
"I know, Tom."
 
"Will you tell them for me?  Will you ... tell the whole world for me?"
 
"I will, Tom.  I'll tell them.  I'll do my best."
 
So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple story about God's love, thank you for listening.  And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven --- I told them, Tommy, as best I could.

If this story means anything to you, please pass it on to a friend or two.  It is a true story and is not enhanced for publicity purposes.

With thanks,
Rev. John Powell, Professor, Loyola University , Chicago
 

--------------

Fr. Powell, I'm passing it to those who might come across this blog.  I hope in my own way I have helped spread the word...

Prison Poet Turns Focus To Learning Life’s Lessons
Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Writing poetry and song lyrics is a passion for Her Majesty’s Prison (HMP) Northward inmate Donald Hooker, who turns to the arts to assist with his rehabilitation.

“My life has been a lot of lessons learned,” said Mr Hooker. “Instead of getting angry I channel my anger in a different direction, so I can get more positive outputs.”

Mr Hooker – whose motto is “what you say is what you become” – has spent his time at Northward writing poetry about love, the gospel, and his life experiences. Included among these are poems he has written, by request, for funerals; he also is working towards publishing his collection of more than 180 poems.

“The most inspiring ones were written here at Northward. My goal is to get my message out to Cayman’s youth, who can look at my mistakes and learn how to avoid them,” he said.

HMP Northward’s Education Coordinator Natalie Joseph-Caesar is working on getting Mr Hooker’s book of poems edited and published.

“Mr Hooker has made a lot of changes during this time at Northward,” she said. “He uses poetry as part of his rehabilitation, and has used his time thus far to accomplish his goals in a positive way.”

Mr Hooker is housed in Northward’s enhanced unit, which allows inmates more flexibility. He is also the prison barber. He said he is continually striving for betterment, and constantly seeking to “do different things to get different results” at Northward and in his future.


from Cayman Net News

Because of recent abductions

in daylight hours,refresh yourself
of these things to do
in an emergency situation...
This is for you,
and for you to share
with your wife,
your children,
everyone you know.
After reading these 9 crucial tips,
forward them to someone you care about.
It never hurts to be careful
in this crazy world we live in.


1. Tip from Tae Kwon Do:
The elbow
is the strongest point
on your body.
If you are close enough to use it,
do!

2. Learned this from a tourist guide
in New Orleans.
If a robber asks
for your wallet and/or purse,
DO NOT HAND IT TO HIM.
Toss it away from you....
chances are
that he is more interested
in your wallet and/or purse
than you,
and he will go
for the wallet/purse.
RUN LIKE MAD IN THE OTHER DIRECTION!


3. If you are ever thrown
into the trunk of a car,
kick out the back tail lights
and stick your arm out the hole
and start waving like crazy.
The driver won't see you,
but everybody else will.
This has saved lives.


4. Women have a tendency
to get into their cars after shopping,
eating, working, etc.,
and just sit (doing their checkbook,
or making a list, etc.
DON'T DO THIS!)
The predator
will be watching you,
and this is the perfect opportunity
for him to get in
on the passenger side,
put a gun to your head,
and tell you where to go.
AS SOON AS YOU GET INTO YOUR CAR,
LOCK THE DOORS AND LEAVE.
a. If someone
is in the car
with a gun
to your head
DO NOT DRIVE OFF,
repeat:
DO NOT DRIVE OFF!
Instead gun the engine
and speed into anything,
wrecking the car.
Your Air Bag will save you.
If the person is
in the back seat
they will get the worst of it.
As soon as the car crashes
bail out and run.
It is better than having them
find your body
in a remote location.
5. A few notes about getting
into your car in a parking lot,
or parking garage:
A.) Be aware:
look around you,
look into your car,
at the passenger side floor,
and in the back seat
B..) If you are parked next to a big van,
enter your car from the passenger door.
Most serial killers attack their victims
by pulling them into their vans
while the women are attempting
to get into their cars.
C..) Look at the car
parked on the driver's side
of your vehicle,
and the passenger side.
If a male is sitting alone
in the seat nearest your car,
you may want to walk back
into the mall, or work,
and get a guard/policeman
to walk you back out.


IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY. (And better paranoid than dead.)
6. ALWAYS
take the elevator
instead of the stairs.
(Stairwells are horrible places
to be alone
and the perfect crime spot.
This is especially true at NIGHT!)
7. If the predator has a gun
and you are not under his control,
ALWAYS RUN!
The predator will only hit you
(a running target)
4 in 100 times;
And even then,
it most likely
WILL NOT
be a vital organ.
RUN,
Preferably !
in a zig -zag pattern!



8. As women,
we are always trying
to be sympathetic:
STOP.
It may get you raped,
or killed.
Ted Bundy,
the serial killer,
was a good-looking,
well educated man,
who ALWAYS played
on the sympathies
of unsuspecting women.
He walked with a cane,
or a limp,
and often asked
"for help"
into his vehicle
or with his vehicle,
which is when he abducted
his next victim.






************* Here it is *******
9. Another Safety Point:
Someone just told me
that her friend heard
a crying baby on her porch
the night before last,
and she called the police
because it was late
and she thought it was weird.
The police told her
"Whatever you do,
DO NOT
open the door."
The lady
then said that
it sounded like the baby
had crawled near a window,
and she was worried
that it would crawl
to the street
and get run over.
The policeman said,
"We already have a unit on the way,
whatever you do,
DO NOT open the door."
He told her that they think
a serial killer
has a baby's cry recorded
and uses it to coax
women out of their homes
thinking that someone
dropped off a baby
He said they have not verified it,
but have had several calls
by women saying that
they hear baby's cries
outside their doors
when they're home alone
at night.
Please pass this on and
DO NOT
open the door
for a crying baby ----
This
e-mail should probably
be taken seriously because
the Crying Baby theory
was mentioned on
America's Most Wanted
this past Saturday
when they profiled
the serial killer in Louisiana.
I'd like you
to forward this
to all the women you know.
It may save a life.
A candle is not dimmed
by lighting another candle.
I was going to send this to the ladies only,
but guys,
if you love your mothers,
wives,
sisters,
daughters, etc.,
you may want to
pass it onto them, as well.
Send this
to any woman you know
that may need
to be reminded
that the world we live in
has a lot of crazies in it
and it's better to be safe
than sorry.

May 14, 2007.  I went home from work carrying a mix of emotions - depression and excitement.  I was excited for election news and yet, depressed... due to the fact that in times like this, I would have been arguing with my father on who would be more fit to serve the people, although I'd known that we had the same candidates and that he was just testing my judgement.  We argued from politics to media responsibility. 

This election, however, the house was peaceful.  The noise of expressed opposing opinions and occasional outbursts from me was absent.  There were only silent tears, as I try to drown the loneliness on a cup of tea (not beer ). 

I was trying to calm myself as I sat on the sofa beside my cat Sasuke, who was lying on his side.  I waited for him to shift to another position and lie on his back.  But he didn't move.  Instead, he just opened an eye at me and wagged his chubby little orange tail.  He was strangely quiet.  I squeezed his littly tummy, which I usually do when I'm stressed, tired or excited.  Then I caressed his fur, which I usually do when I'm sad.  When I stopped, he put his head on my hand.  Later, he stood to lie on my lap. 

I'm always amazed and taken by how animals can give the comfort human beings sometimes fail to give, how they can be so compassionate.  Life's like that.  No matter how bad you feel and no friend is around to ease your pain, God finds a way to show you He cares and that He understands.

Today, May 16, an Asian publishing company invited me to write for them.  I'll try to come up with something tonight.  If not, then I'll try tomorrow or on the next day and so on.  This day, too, I was inspired by a forwarded message from a coworker and tried a little bit of creative writing.  I wasn't able to do much, but it's a start.  Here goes:

I believe in life...
in its simplicity and intricacies
You can control it, and yet it may mold you
It can be predictable, and yet mainly impulsive
I believe in life just as much as I believe
that God is my friend
I believe in life, also because I believe in death,
as there would be no life without death
I belive in life... and life after death

Wednesday 2nd May, 2007

Musical code deciphered in carvings

ROSLIN, Scotland (AP) – Like a plot from "The Da Vinci Code," a team of code breakers claims to have found music hidden for 500 years in intricate carvings at the church where author Dan Brown set the climax of the best–selling book.

Father and son team Thomas and Stuart Mitchell say they deciphered a musical code hewn into stone cubes on the ribs supporting the ceiling of Rosslyn Chapel in the village of Roslin, near Edinburgh.

"Breaking the code was a true eureka moment. It’s like we have been given a compact disc from the past," said Stuart Mitchell, 41, a music teacher from Edinburgh. "But unlike the fiction of ’The Da Vinci Code,’ this is a tangible link to the past."

The music has been recorded, and will get its official premiere in the chapel May 18.

Musical experts reserved judgment, but did not dismiss the Mitchells’ theory.

"We have 213 cubes (at Rosslyn) and the possibility that they have something to say is by no means implausible," said Warwick Edwards, an expert on early Scottish music at Glasgow University. More research is needed, he said.

Gordon Munro, an expert on Scottish church music from 1500–1700 at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow, said, "I have heard the music and it is not impossible, but it can only be a reconstruction that is open to interpretation."

"There is a series of shapes they are using, but I could not say if they would read the notes on the chapel ceiling from left to right or up and down," Munro added.

The 15th century chapel, 10 miles from Edinburgh, was built by Sir Gilbert Haye and Sir William Sinclair and is steeped in the traditions of the Knights Templar and Freemasonry.

The elaborate decoration and the mysterious symbolism have inspired many legends, among them that the building is a replica of Solomon’s Temple and that it is the resting place of the Holy Grail, the Ark of the Covenant or even the mummified head of Jesus Christ.

Brown’s novel, based on the theory that Jesus married Mary Magdalene and founded a dynastic line which survives today, climaxes at Rosslyn Chapel. "Symbology heaven," Brown called it.

The Mitchells’ research centered on the ribs of a ceiling in the Lady Chapel. Rows of carved angels play instruments above the columns of cubes.

The elder Mitchell, 75, who was a code breaker for the Royal Air Force during the Korean War, said he spent 25 years working at the puzzle.

"Many of the angels had musical instruments and some were arranged as a choir, but there was one angel we couldn’t work out," he said. "Then we realized she was carrying a musical stave, the lined blueprint for musical composition, and therefore we were looking at a coded piece of music."

The five–line stave that Mitchell believes the angel is holding came into general use in the 16th century in the West, music historians say.

If the Mitchells are right about the meaning of the shapes, the people who built Rosslyn Chapel between 1446 and 1486 knew something about the science of sound that wasn’t generally known in the West until the 1700s.

The Mitchells believe the patterns on the cubes are Chladni patterns – created by vibrations of musical pitches.

The patterns are named for Ernest Chladni (1756–1827), a German musician who is also remembered as the inventor of the glass harmonica.

Chladni spread fine sand on metal or glass plates, then used a violin bow to make the plate vibrate. Sand gathered in parts of the plate which were not vibrating, creating patterns unique to each pitch.

Although the patterns are associated with Chladni, the effect had been noted a few decades earlier, by the English scientist Robert Hooke in 1665.

The Mitchells assert the effect was also known by Gilbert Haye, one of the chapel’s builders, who died in 1513.

"The Cymatics/Chladni patterns were inspired and found in the art of the ancient Chinese gong making which Sir Gilbert Haye would have discovered during his time in the Far East," said Stuart Mitchell.

Your writing style reflects that you're reliable, and it communicates to others that they can depend on you to see things through to the end. Is it the legibility of your writing, your baseline, or your letter spacing that gives you away?

I guess I blew it today. I was an utter failure. Suddenly I realized I was clueless on what was going on in the newsletter. I wanted to evaporate - no! - dissolve to the floor. I wished that the floor would magically crack and eat me. When I look at the newsletter, I could see the boss' face. Suddenly the paragraphs get jumbled and some just get blurred. I was reading, and I was not reading. I don't know what was happening to me. I can't seem to wake my mind up. It seemed like it was in a trance - mesmerized would be a comedy. My fingers got numbed and I was like "where are the number keys?" and "is this the enter key, is this the spacebar?" Aaarrrgh! Function, Sheryl, function! I silently screamed to myself. For now, I need a good cry. I knew I blew it, it was pure obvious. I knew he wanted me to speak up but my brain's running around in my head that I couldn't seem to catch the words there. There was even a time when I just did the sign language. It's okay that I wouldn't be promoted, I didn't ask for it anyway. I knew it would just mean added torture and the last thing I need right now is torture. I'm still groveling on the ground from the disastrous 2006. They thought I was ready. But I proved them wrong. I know I'm doing quite well with my current position but I also know when I am not ready. But there I was still in the torture chamber with the boss barking on my poor, emptied head. His mere presence is enough to scare all my wits away. I guess I'm overstating this part. But it was pure torture. I wish I'll get over it. Well, I will… after a good cry and I hope it would be enough not to put myself on vacation. When stress gets its ugly claws on me, I'd have LBM or worse… I vomit.

Was this part of the job description? There was a phrase in the company's ad saying: be able to handle pressure. I guess it meant just that. Anyway, I guess (again) that was my moment to screw up. The boss wasn't really that bad. If I didn't want to be placed under a microscope, they wouldn't know what I can and cannot do. It could also mean that I create my own company and torture my workers in revenge… bwahaha. What did I learn in this experience? Take a breathing exercise and, it takes a good friend to ease your frazzled nerves. I'm just glad about one thing: I didn't faint.

The world I'm in is not an easy world.  There's time pressure and demands to be met.  Multi-tasking is like sitting in front of TV.  But I did learn a lot about that editing session.  As an editor, I can do so much for a story.  The boss wasn't really bad.  In fact, I'm hoping to have his brains someday.  And I'm not talking about having them on the table.  I want to be as knowledgeable as him.  Well, I'm still young.  There's so much time.  Anyway, I told the boss the session was scary, but admitted that it helped me... a lot.

In your Cinderella story, you'd get to Live Happily Ever After

Sheryl joy, in your Cinderella story, you'd get to Live Happily Ever After

When it comes to setting goals, you're not afraid to reach high. How else would you explain wanting to be the belle of the ball, winning the heart of the prince, showing those evil stepsisters who's boss, and ruling the kingdom? You're a girl with goals, and you go after them.

Let's face it: You're not one to sit around and wait for life to happen. If the driver has the night off, you'd probably proudly take the reigns of your pumpkin coach and drive yourself to the party. You're not the type to have a team of servants at your beck and call although that wouldn't be so horrible, now would it? But if good ol' Prince Charming has anything to say about it, you won't have to lift a finger when you move into the castle together — unless you want to. And with your varied interests and natural drive to get what you want, you're sure to be true royalty in no time. And that's a happily ever after worth sharing.

What's Your Cinderella Story?
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