Note: This was posted at The Rabbit Room recently. So, you may have seen it there. Do not read it twice. It’s like seeing yourself in time-travel. –sam

Last night I wrote a fable. It’s fabulous. And by that I mean it’s a fable.

With me?

Words really mean things. I want to be some one whose appreciation of this fact fuels more intentional investigation on word origins.

I only have one book on my shelf that I can think of right now about word origins in English. That book is pretty amazing (now I’m thinking of what amazing history the word “amazing” might have), but I ought to have more. I almost have aught.

I remember hearing Ken Myers talking to some fellow about how he was grading a student paper where it was said that a boat had “arrived half-way across the ocean.” The fellow was objecting to this use because the word “arrive” has in it the notion of coming ashore. So one cannot arrive half-way. It means to get there. Specifically to “come to shore.”

So, at Hutchmoot (the Rabbit Room conference) this idea of the power and origin in the original power of words arrived on the sandy beach of my mind. Courtesy of Walter Wangerin, Jr.

Walt (I call him Walt, because I was close enough to yank his pony tail –but I didn’t, amazingly) was amazing. <—– I haven’t looked that up yet.

I felt a thousand things as he spoke, which I feel incapable of putting into adequate words. I feel like a clever monkey trying to explain to Beethoven (who is deaf and dead) the joys of flinging poo. I felt validated, inspired, full, hopeful, peaceful, joyful and the list goes on and on like a long, long list.

But here is one thing. Walt knows words.

He inhabits language like the oldest local. He speaks as one with authority, as if in his naming the thing may finally –again– be itself. It was not that words were used by him, or that he was commanding with them. I can aspire to that. It was more.

He cooperated with words. Co-operated. He and the words were on the same side. He has arrived on their side after a long, literate life’s journey.

His relation of the history of schap (forever on the chalkboard of my mind) was a significant life event for me. Because, in so many words, he told me who I am.

I am a schap. A shaper. This is how he talked about storytellers.

And words are the tools of my trade. I will use them, care for them, add more to my bag and hope that one day I will do more than use them. I will inhabit them. Know them like an intimate friend. Partner with them. Conjure up with them a vision for those without eyes to see. And tell stories.

Like Walt.

This picture inspired me. I’m sure this guy had bigger things in mind, but maybe I can change the world by changing my profile picture.

Such a big step in one’s life.

A lot of artist-types (my people, in many ways) are super-pretentious (like using your initials…kuh!) and we write things like “unique” on our hands and think that cool haircuts, tattoos, t-shirts, or hats makes you artistic. So I thought I’d make fun of us.

My favorite comment came from my 4 year old son. “See, it’s HAND-writing. That’s why it’s funny.”

“In a very real sense not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. if we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there’s no danger that we will confuse God’s work with our own, or God’s glory with our own.

“It is interesting to note how many artists have had physical problems to overcome, deformities, lameness, terrible loneliness. Could Beethoven have written that glorious paean of praise in the Ninth Symphony if he had not to endure the dark closing in of deafness? As I look through his work chronologically, there’s no denying that it deepens and strengthens along with the deafness.

“Could Milton have seen all that he sees in Paradise Lost if he had not been blind? It is chastening to realize that those who have no physical flaw, who move through life in step with their peers, who are bright and beautiful, seldom become artists. The unending paradox is that we do learn through pain.

“My mother’s long life had more than its fair share of pain and tragedy. One time, after something difficult had happened, one of her childhood friends came to give comfort and help. Instead of which, she burst into tears and sobbed out, ‘I envy you! I envy you! You’ve had a terrible life, but you’ve lived!’

“I look back at my mother’s life and I see suffering deepening and strengthening it. In some people I have also seen it destroy. Pain is not always creative; received wrongly, it can lead to alcoholism and madness and suicide. Nevertheless, without it we do not grow.”

Madeleine L’Engle

HT: Ron Block

This is dedicated to my brother, Josiah, who was a teenage skating phenom in the Republic of South Africa when we were kids. It was the first of about a million things that he became better than me at.The thing remaining that I am better than him at? Um…um…ping pong!

Enjoy. This is artistry.
HT: Abraham Piper

This is Tony Reinke’s conclusion to an article considering the value of art by non-believers. See the entire piece here.

“So here’s a brief summary of what I have learned over the months in reading on this topic:

1. The artistic gift in man is intrinsic.
2. The artistic creativity of God is on display in his creation.
3. The human artistic impulse is, at least in part, a reflection of God’s image.
4. God delights in Himself and therefore delights in the reflection of his own character, artistic beauty being one reflection of Him in our culture.
5. Non-Christian artists, while remaining in a state of enmity with God, will never achieve their fullest artistic potential.

This perspective offers the Christian a wide foundation for the appreciation of non-Christian art in these ways:

• It will open our eyes to God’s common grace in the art around us.
• It will remind us that in every gifted artist we see a reflection of The Artist, the source of all goodness, truth, and beauty.
• It will help us appreciate the gifts of non-Christian artists and the beauty of non-Christian art.
• It will protect us from glorifying the glittering mirrors rather than the Sun.
• It will remind us that the artistic potential of non-Christians, no matter how great, is tragically limited.
• It will remind us that while there is beauty in non-Christian art to be enjoyed, art is not a “neutral territory” that should be pursued without a concern for God and truth.
• Finally, it will remind us that God’s highest purpose for art is beautiful work that flows from an artist who lives and works under the fear of God and under the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and expresses that artistic talent with the goal of bringing glory to The Artist.”

Tony Reinke

UPDATE: Now there are zero slots left. Dang it. My timing stinks.

UPDATE: There are almost ZERO slots left. Register now, or lose your place forever.

Back-story: The Rabbit Room is a online public house, a website where some Christians (creative types, mostly) meet up and talk about the Story, Story, stories, movies, music, and a bunch of other stuff. It’s supposed to be an Inklings kind of thing (the meet-up for C.S. Lewis, Professor Tolkien and others –but they had a real pub).

The Proprietor of our on-line Rabbit Room is Andrew Peterson (author, singer-songwriter, pro-proprietor). At some point AP asked me to be a part of this thing by contributing a few posts a month. I assume this was to achieve readership among the highly sought after demographic of hillbillies.

Now: AP has long held a desire for the cyberpub to incarnate in brick and mortar. So, while there is no physical RR, there shall be, if God wills, an in-flesh get together of Rabbit Roomers this year.

The get together shall be a retreat/conference type of thing, but since a perfect name could not be agreed upon, Pete Peterson’s working title of “The Hutchmoot” was settled on.

Hutch = A home for rabbits.
Moot = A meet up (like the Entmoot in Tolkien’s LoTR).

So, all that to say this: Why don’t you come and join us? August 6-8. Nashville.

I am actually a bit late in posting this announcement (because I am stoopid) and the thing is getting rather full. So, head over to the Hutchmoot web HQ and see what all the fuss is about.

If you are a hillbilly and care what yours truly is doing there (besides trying to act casual around all the amazing artists) then I’ll be participating in two panel-things. One is on storytelling (because of my millions of books sold –oh, wait) with the a fore-mentioned AP, along with authors Jonathan Rogers, Travis Prinzi, Russ Ramsey, and Pete Peterson. I’ll probably just be fetching sodas and adjusting the air conditioner. The other is called “Strength in Weakness” and is with authors Pete Peterson and Travis Prinzi. I’ll be doing a reading in that one based on the work of Tolkien and the connection of his work with all the bathroom jokes in my writings.

Check out the website.
See the schedule.
Register.
Make travel plans with fellow Hutchmooters here.

I am really looking forward to it, and plan to post more later. Cheers!

David Bayles and Ted Orland, Art and Fear

HT: Ron Block

Ira Glass of This American Life has some fascinating thoughts on the building blocks of good storytelling. I found this very helpful, and inspiring. His remarks on failure are particularly useful (in parts 1 and 3), whatever kind of work you’re doing.

Here’s parts 2, 3 and 4.

HT: Brannon McAllister

“The Church’s approach to an intelligent carpenter is usually confined to exhorting him not to be drunk and disorderly in his leisure hours, and to come to church on Sundays. What the Church should be telling him is this: that the very first demand that his religion makes upon him is that he should make good tables.

. . . Let the Church remember this: that every maker and worker is called to serve God in his profession or trade—not outside of it. The Apostles complained rightly when they said it was not meant they should leave the word of God and serve tables; their vocation was to preach the word. But the person whose vocation it is to prepare the meals beautifully might with equal justice protest: It is not meant for us to leave the service of our tables to preach the word.

The official Church wastes time and energy, and moreover, commits sacrilege, in demanding that secular workers should neglect their proper vocation in order to do Christian work—by which she means ecclesiastical work. The only Christian work is good work well done. Let the Church see to it that the workers are Christian people and do their work well, as to God: then all the work will be Christian work, whether it is Church embroidery or sewage-farming.”

Dorothy Sayers

-as quoted by Justin Taylor here, from her essay “Why Work?”

N.D. Wilson answers this and more in this interview…Listen now.

I found Wilson’s remarks to be very inspiring and very helpful for:

1. Parents looking for discernment about what kids read.

2. Creative people who love the Bible (authors, musicians, etc.).

3. People who want to understand if we should only receive “Christian” media (books, music, films, etc.) and need wisdom on that front.

4. Other weirdos.

It’s also very helpful on the subject of authority and magic.

Check it out. It is really worth a listen.

I mean, look at this guy.

Find N.D. Wilson here. Buy his books. High-five his raised right hand.