From Minneapolis Star-Tribunr, By PAUL WALSH

Seems that one person’s smut is another person’s morning latte. A Christian group based in San Diego found grounds for outrage over the new retro-style logo for Starbucks Coffee.

Seems that one person’s smut is another person’s morning latte.

A Christian group based in San Diego found grounds for outrage over the new retro-style logo for Starbucks Coffee.

The Resistance says the new image “has a naked woman on it with her legs spread like a prostitute,” Mark Dice, founder of the group, said in a news release. “Need I say more? It’s extremely poor taste, and the company might as well call themselves Slutbucks.”

Does not this observation by by Mark Dice of The Resistance speak far more loudly about his state of mind than it does about the moral fabric of Starbuck’s? If little tiny ink engraved nipples on the side of a coffee cup send Mr. Dice into an outrage, imagine what apoplexy a casual flip-through of this week’s TIME magazine must cause him. Or perhaps he is the type who takes a Sharpie pen to the library each month when the new National Geographics are delivered, to “protect the children” of course.

Thus, Chapter 8,397 in the continuing saga of the bending of the gospels into nothing more than a set of hare-brained, silly doctrinal stances, taken by whatever group wants to claim “Watchman on the Wall” status this week. There are so many such groups! This one- The Resistance- claims 3000 members nationwide. Imagine being a person who is starved for the love Jesus can bring, and asking the only Christian in his/her vicinity for help..and it turns out to be a Resistance member with a big Bible in one hand and an empty Starbuck’s cup in the other!

I’d run from such nonsense. And I would urge anyone else to run, too. Because what they’re about to get pounded with is 21st century, American, Western, doctrinal Churchianity that seeks to bend human will into the image of whatever false idol that group has erected at the moment. They, no doubt, will hear much more about Satan than Jesus, and a whole lot more about God’s imminent and angry justice than about Jesus’ immediate and compassionate love.

The supreme good is like water,
which nourishes all things without trying to.
It is content with the low places that people disdain.
Thus it is like the Tao.

In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don’t try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.

When you are content to be simply yourself
and don’t compare or compete,
everybody will respect you.

The story of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11: 1-8), tells of builders on the plains of Babylon who wanted to build a tower that would “reach into the sky. This will make us famous..”

Built with bricks (not stone) and tar (not mortar), the tower was doomed from the start. Every inch of its increasing height bore down more heavily on its less than adequate foundation. The plans the builders had for both their achievement and the fame it would bring were folly. Instead of fame, their half-baked plans brought them derision, and a mess to clean up.

To simply be oneself is not a simple task. Caught in the onslaught of culture, the worship of false idols, the fragility and care of bent egos, and others’ definitions of success, it is a difficult process to discover, or re-discover, who we really are. The ancient truths of the Tao are invaluable it that quest:

Humility, fairness and generosity, cooperation, joyfulness, and presence are qualities that can be practiced; they get easier and more natural over time if they are not part of one’s life now.

Where and when to begin? Here and now. The Tao is. Here and now, as are we all.

I’ve urged readers of this blog to go to this blog on several occasions. This is another of those several, very special occasions.

Evenstar Art

The Tao is infinite, eternal.
Why is it eternal?
It was never born;
thus it can never die.
Why is it infinite?
It has no desires for itself;
thus it is present for all beings.

God, the word, is finite. It’s meanings stretch only so far as the metaphors it gives rise to can carry it. There was a time and place where those meanings began, and there will be a time when the word is so laden with definition, that it will mean nothing.

It is the Tao within which the word God is enfolded. When the need to speak the word first arose, however it was spoken, the Tao was ready to contain it. When the word is spoken for the last time, its formlessness will be transcended by the Tao.

The Tao is. Always is.

To approach God within the confines of a metaphor is to immediately limit God. The Tao cannot be contained by such comparisons. To reach for God beyond the words God is contained within- Lord, King, Father, Abba, El Shaddai, Allah, Krishna- is to reach ourselves into the infinite and eternal. To ponder God-with-no-name is to begin to know how little we know about God. And how very very much we do know.

Willingness

If you’re willing to see it,

There’s a tree over there about to explode in a fiery green

cataclysm against the sundown sky.

If you’re willing to hear it,

The heartbeat of the universe is throbbing pink and white

in the primrose patch at our feet.

If you’re willing to taste it,

A sugar-laced kiss on lakeside winds

is caressing your lips, even now.

If you’re willing to touch it

(and I can tell by the warmth of your fingertips you are),

The grass will reveal where God has been dancing for you

every summer of your life..

by: me

Just Thinking

Got up on a cool morning. Leaned out a window.
No cloud, no wind. Air that flowers held
for awhile. Some dove somewhere.

Been on probation most of my life. And
the rest of my life been condemned. So these moments
count for a lot—peace, you know.

Let the bucket of memory down into the well,
bring it up. Cool, cool minutes. No one
stirring, no plans. Just being there.

This is what the whole thing is about.

—William Stafford

I wrote this last August. It is my favorite post. I bring it to the top here again, because it reflects me much better than some of the things which get so many hits every day..

~~

A banker, on vacation in St. Tropez, quoted in an article this morning at Financial Times:

“Everyone is on a high state of alert, so there are going to be many people like me making sure we keep in touch - and that means keeping your BlackBerry on. Normally in August banks run on half or two-thirds of normal staff, which can make it difficult, so every banker has to remain vigilant, even if you’re on the beach like me.”

There will come that one, last perfect day when such a comment is spoken to others, acknowledged affirmatively by others, and embraced by others, both enviously or in agreement. It will be heard that day uncritically, acceptably, without questioning. The importance of the statement will be unchallenged. The normalcy of the statement will further add to that last perfect day’s harmonious discourse.

Then, somewhere, perhaps on another beach- almost certainly on another beach, a mountainside somewhere, in a field full of wildflowers, or beside a trout stream- someone will ask, “Does it matter?” Does it matter that I have more than I need, less than I want? Does it matter that the markets a world away are defining, even here, my relationship with all that I can see around me? Does it matter that I cannot hear the symphonies of the sunshine and oceans for the the digital clatter that is filling my heart?

And, over days, decades, centuries perhaps, that one last perfect day will be remembered as the day humankind began to turn- away from themselves, and toward the Light. One by one, unnoticed for years, first here then there then there and there and there, the Light will be seen, acknowledged, and begin to shine through the darkness born of religious tradition, economic acquiescence, and national historical perspectives. Light will begin to shine across political borders, across chasms of cultural chauvinism, and through masks of ego-driven motivations.

There will be that one last perfect day, before someone, somewhere looks at their BlackBerry one last time, then drops it. And steps on it. And lifts their eyes to see the blue, crystalline waters of the Mediterranean for the first time ever..

If you don’t find God in the next person you meet, it is a waste of time looking for him further.

-Gandhi

Again, from the show “Britain’s Got Talent,” another talent like Paul Potts. Potts moved millions around the world with his rendition of ‘Nessum Dorma.’ Johnston does the same with ‘Pie Jesu.’

I heard Sarah Brightman say once that the finest sopranos on earth were 12 year old boys. I had no idea what she was talking about.

Until now.

The circus was in town today. They set up in a little field beside the VFW. There was a tent, two bobtail trucks, a couple of campers and a pickup truck. I watched for awhile.

I knew that once they started unloading whatever bedraggled, tired, and elderly animals they might have with them, that I would be so depressed that the rest of the day would be difficult. I chose the easy way out- I drove away.

I don’t think e.e. cummings would have stuck around for this one, either.