Speaking of death, I read a poem today by a friend, Mary Setliff, recently recognized by a local poetry festival, in which she potently describes cancer taking a friend. Her poem is called "The Bones of a Swan (for Will)."
Reading it, I was reminded of something that I read recently: swan bones are used in mythology to describe a magical building material out of which anything can be made. Imagine that: enchanted swan bones givng us "make-anything-you-can-dream-of" two-by-fours.
With my swan bones, I would build a city where anything you can dream comes true. And in that city, cancer, and death, wouldn't take anyone, but would transform them.
What a miracle that such a city has already been built, not with swan bones, but with the flesh and blood of a perfect Man, Jesus, whose death and resurrection works the most Perfect Magic of All.
And then, the last enemy, death, shall be defeated.
I heard a fascinating line of poetry yesterday, quoted by Maya Angelou, who is celebrating her eightieth birthday. The poet she quoted was Edna St. Vincent Millay, who fancied, in this composition, "Conscientious Objector," that though she couldn't avoid death, would only give it only what was due, and not a penny more:
The idea that we can have some measure of control over what we give to Death is part of the fabric of the human heart. After all, God has embossed Eternity there, and the soul's vector necessarily launches us into another, invisible world.I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death.
But St. Vincent Millay's words are, in the end, no more than wishful bravado. Ancient David has a more certain hope, and one more comforting as we think about the Tax Man's, or Death's, Approach...
I will not die, but live, And tell of the works of the LORD. (Psalm 118:17)
Death, as certain as taxes, takes its mortal toll from every man, woman, and child. But some pay Death more than they must, for they pay the pound of flesh from their own breast. Others find release from such payment in God's own offering of Himself to Death on the cross.
For such ones, death is all that is paid to Death, and not a penny more.
Reading here today about the phenomenon of the "unconference" and how it is the in-person equivalent of Web 2.0, I was struck with the image of what must have been a lively interaction between "speaker" and "audience" at the ancient church councils.
Of course there must have been politics, and certainly there is also a good deal of politics at an unconference as well. "No distinction between speaker and audience" is a tenet of the unconference. My denomination, a modern strand of Presbyterianism, should consider these principles for some of its meetings.
As threatening as this kind of democratization might be to our system of government, it could prove to be quite useful.
Jason Clark has published last month a review of a book, Did Jesus go to the Theatre? by an author named Nick Page. I love the title, and am interested in the book. Here is a link to a presentation by Page.
