The Star of Christmas - a Slam

Starlight, star bright 

First star I see tonight

Staring at the glare of dazzling paparazzi lights,

Starstruck at some Hollywood darling

A starlet on whom we start

casting our sights 

Our hearts marveling at larger than life czars of the arts.

But the part I want to get to

is the matter's heart

Please tell me - 

Where for heavens sake did all that really start? 

It's odd we give such a nod to these modern goddesses and gods 

who seem impressive from afar

Starring in roles, applauded and lauded 

making bank for the plays' parts they play in

that in order to take in - 

we payin' - Netflix and Pathé 

But we're being played cause that's not who they really are

Go closer, look deeper and farther. 

You'll see they're far from being on par 

with the real Superstar  -

the original birthday boy of Decem-bar 

The One who's called the Bright and Morning Star

He's the one whose raw star power 

should really draws the oohs and ahhs

'Cause His star hung 'round that little town of prophetic renown

Long after what we now know

went down in Bethlehem 

among the sheep and the cows

Astounding astrologers, star gazers 

and sages all around,

their heads crowned, 

wearing fancy threads and royal gowns.

They bounded headlong with their bounty  over countless valleys 

and surrounding mountains 

Counting it nothing if somehow

they could bow low and bestow honor to the real Star

Because everyone knows that Christmas, y'all, this is His show

Its not really about Father Christmas, snow or Santa

You can recall why we get the 25th off, can't ya?

Is it just sipping hot wine outside from from a plastic decanter?

Cause then after, you gotta go gulp down some Mylanta

Yeah we big on amassing 

vast amounts of classy foie gras 

afta midnight mass 

where we break our fast 

and gorge on a massive repast

But we wonder, alas, 

why the sweet rich taste don't really last.

Yo, it's not about mistletoe 

and where you gonna go 

plant ya lips 

for that kiss 

from your special miss or mister

It's more than exploring Sephora, shopping Dior, or 

buying a Michael Kors  

getting poorer as you splurge 

at store after store

Over- pending more and more 

until we ask ourselves,

"Whats it all really for?"

Don't misinterpret or be missin' 

on the real history lesson

you're messin' with God's big mission 

If you write Xmas 

it's such a big omission

Cause it's certainly not about Rudolph, Donner or Blitzen

But Christ is front and center 

of this big holiday tradition.

Far better than that guy named Clause

He's the greatest gift giver 

that there ever was

It should give us pause

makin' our jaws 

drop open in full-on awe at his cause

Which was 

That as pure Love,

He descended to spend his life  

better than any man ever did,

bending under the penalty 

of our unending self-centered binging,

surrendering to suffering unrelenting 

While defending us 

against the pretender  

upending the dominion over us 

by our our enemy and all his minions

This incredible life, in my opinion, 

ended in winnin'

And that, ladies and gentle-men

Is the no-frills noble story of Noel 

we need to be spinning

To the end  all the way from the beginning.

Well, my friends, 

we've come is this ditty's end, 

sent to your heart 

from my pen. 

Amen. 

Hold That Call

Walk down a major historic downtown street in Grenoble and you will likely notice an open concave brick and mortar structure about 7 feet tall and 3 feet wide. Its pointy top and finished concrete at first invite an curious glance from the unaware tourist. I wonder what this could be?

One could imagine it a steam-punk style, sci-fi portal to another part of the city.  Or its relatively ornate design might cause you to mistake it for a very old telephone booth. While you might not be too far off by associating it with a type of “call”, its very prominent public location belies its rather private purpose.  

This puzzling piece of mottled masonry is called a pissoir (prounounced “peese-wahr”) and now I am sure you can guess what it is. Especially if you stared at it long enough to observe some male pedestrian on the sidewalk duck in and immediately strike a recognizable pose of relieving himself.

The fact that it would be a man is obvious due to the structure’s empty interior design that is large enough to accommodate one standing person. Which begs the question - no, not  “Is there anything on the wall to read?” but rather, “Does the city think that only men have the need to respond to the call of nature?” The public roadside pissoir’s minimally hidden privacy, designed for dudes who have had a few too many drinks after work, is so representative of what is still alive and well in modern France - the vestiges of archaic male privilege and preference.

What is obvious by their design covered by green corrosion is that the  pissoirs of Grenoble are quite old. In fact, they were first introduced to France in 1830. They often are used as a convenient place for the plastering of posters and handbills. At certain moments in the day, however, you may not want to take a second look at that advertisement that initially caught your eye. What does get my attention, though is that here in the 21st century, an unhygienic distasteful relic such as this endures. I guess to the urgent modern male of 2018 that may still be a great relief.

All of this is just another example that modern society is not the place where anyone is going to learn self-control, whether it is in the public excessive displays of road rage and racism, or debauchery and immodesty. But I am thankful that the place I learned self-control was in church.

My pastor-father was determined to teach his boys that a house of worship is a place of honoring God. He emphasized with words (and worse) that we were to learn to control our need to laugh, talk, run or even to smack our gum in the church meeting so that we would never detract attention of those around us from being focused exclusively on God. This included all trips to the restroom once the service started, no matter how urgent the need. In our little Pentecostal church, my shaking and rocking was a lot more desperation than inspiration. Speaking in tongues was a necessity because I needed all the supernatural power I could get to not wet my pants before the last amen. Let’s just say the fear of the rod and reproach after the meeting was greater than the urgency to go to the men’s room.

Church is still the place where we can learn self-control. Through the instruction of God’s word, the conviction of the Holy Spirit, the example and encouragement of the community of faith around us, we can find the secrets of how God helps sate our hungers, damper our drives, and gives the rest and relief found in His power rather than in obeying our every impulse or in search for immediate satisfaction of our urgent needs.

I can say today that I gained at least one thing from my upbringing, beside a bladder infection. I have learned that I can endure longer than my selfish desires tell me I can. I suppose this is why I am utterly amazed and more than a little annoyed at observing some indiscreet man fully on the highway shoulder or turned toward a public wall who just cannot seem to wait another minute.  I have learned through experience, that you can endure longer than you think, and that if you stop telling yourself you can’t, you’ll find that you can. Yes, sir, you really can hold it. A little self-control makes it easier on everyone, instead of subjecting civilized eyes to rather uncivilized behavior.

I have no need for the pissoirs of Grenoble. But I still need the lessons first learned as a boy in God’s house.There are some things far more important than my immediate convenience. Whatever I feel I just have to say, just have to do or just have to possess, the truth in a #MeToo society is that we need more men of modesty and self control who have learned to just hold it.

Whirlwind - (A Slam)

A wind blows, tries to bowl me over
Billowing over me, around me, surrounds me.
A scorching east wind sent towards us to strip us and torch us.
It’s a swirling storm of lists to do whose doing I missed
That never quits.
Pressures, not pleasures, that distress me,
because success is so hard to measure,
Stealing away life’s true treasures.

Like a smile on my daughter’s face, my mate’s embrace,
And time in the quiet place
Have all been replaced by what I’ve made first place.
It’s such a sad state and a waste to always have a full-plate and yet be left with an empty taste.\

I’ve been chasing after the wind
And what I’ve sown has made me so winded that
I’ve reaped the whirlwind
Whirled and warped by the world – its words of wisdom
And ways of warranting worth
Are worlds away from the truth and not the last word
Because THE Word, breathed by the Spirit
Whispers to me and bathes me in a breath of life
Calling me to a life-style.
A pleasant pleasurable stroll that restores the soul
from a rat race with a relentless pace
I’m phat with all that peace, and now walk, slower, more whole.

There’s something like a rushing wind, a mighty sound from heaven,
Waves gushing over me.
I catch my breath as the Ruach that abounds and bounds over every barrier
Comes to carry my weary soul.
It doesn’t spin me or spend me but descends on me
like Elijah’s whirlwind.
It turns and sends me closer, returned to Sender.

And I catch this wave of God’s glory instead of the same old same old
Story of wind at my back, working me over, and over-working to the point of heart attack,
chasing after dreams with a false sheen that are deemed elusive
and never ever what they seem.

Carry and lift me, whirlwind of God.
Fill my sails and take me above all that assails me, these sad pursuits that always seem to fail me
Are now so far below me cause this God-wind just blows me away,
chasing all that was insignificant, elusive, and actually abusive,
Erasing the gaping hole that existed between my existence and God’s intended goals.
And it’s in this holy whirlwind that I am carefully carried by this caring Creator
Who fully pursues me, renews me and infuses new life in me.

(Gen. 41:27; Eccl. 2:11; Nah. 1:3; Hos. 8:7; 2 Ki. 3:11; Acts 2:1-2)