dil·et·tante (dĭl’ĭ-tänt’, dĭl’ĭ-tänt’, -tän’tē, -tănt’, -tăn’tē)

def. a person who takes up an art, activity, or subject merely for amusement, esp. in a desultory or superficial way; dabbler.

&thereisnothingicandowiththisdesire
“I Have Forgiven Jesus” by Morrissey

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And about those nails

If you’ve seen Scorsese’s “The Last Temptation of Christ” you have no trouble recalling the surreal scene in which the angel tells Jesus that God is pleased with him, and he doesn’t have to go through with the early death. She pulls the nails out and they leave behind the cross and mayhem, unnoticed. It is stunning. Now I am not wondering if the Gospels tell the account of Christ’s death incorrectly, and that perhaps Christ married and lived to a ripe old age–as the film goes. However, the scene made me wonder how the Crucifixion story–with all its violence–has shaped my faith and specifically, my perception of love. Somehow, God setup our Atonement through unbelievable violence and injustice. God loves me because he came down and suffered death and separation from himself. God endured much in the name of love. I am not sure I actually live like this because I hardly endure much, nor can I conceive the ultimate love, which is to live with my life on the line (really, how does one do that from day-to-day). But I have come to realize that my version of love echoes with violence, which doesn’t sit well with me. Violence and love, not the pair I thought them to be. To love is to do what one does not wish to do, in other words.

&allthistalkofgettingold
“The Drugs Don’t Work” by The Verve

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Bilious pretense

I am still not convinced of the purpose of my faith. I believe maturity is near the top of God’s hopes for me; of course, revelation of such a path is rarely enjoyable. I realized this past week that I am still a very immature and selfish little man. There I was, rounding another bend only to find myself in a dismal valley. And a familiar valley at that. I still love in a pretentious and utilitarian manner which brings to question: why do I work so hard to maintain this character facade, and in so doing invite people to love a false me?

I mentioned to my counselor how all my Sunday worship efforts were ultimately aimed at an ego stroke, preferably a “great job” from someone at the conclusion of the service. I was absolutely outraged at my deceptive efforts and was ready to kill the whole worship posturing by taking time off. Her response: no matter your intentions, if people are enjoying worship, they are enjoying worship. So while my efforts may have a less than honorable purpose, the outcome may in and of itself, be received as love. And now the facade is acceptable again?

Welcome back pretense; you nauseate me.

&weightonmyhead
“An’ Another Thing” by Dave Matthews

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