Serious Thoughts on Pie

I’ve been copying posts from my old Xanga blog to a document for safe keeping today and I came across this delightful post from 2004 which I feel the need to share again. My thoughts on pie remain adamantly so formed:

Originally posted, Tuesday, November 23, 2004

I get to make pies tomorrow morning.  On Sunday, my sister made the comment that she was tired of apple pie.  I consider that statement to be utter sacrilege.  There is no way a good human being can be tired of apple pie unless they have made a pact with the devil.  That is my firm belief.  But then, my sister is far more of a chocolate fanatic than I, and apple pie does not go well hand-in-hand with chocolate.  But in my opinion, cinnamon can take the place of chocolate in most situations - I do not disavow the necessity for chocolate at certain points in everyone's life, but cinnamon is a close partner in satisfaction.

That stated, you now have my views on chocolate and cinnamon, but have you completely caught my love of pie?  I hereby state emphatically that pie is next to godliness.  In almost any form, pie is the perfect dessert.  And fruit pie is the perfect dessert, or breakfast, or lunch, or even dinner.  I'm not a great fan of blueberry pie - I prefer my blueberries to still resemble berries, nor am I a great fan of cherry pie, unless it is homemade without using that canned slop.  But apple, raspberry, multi-berry, even peach pies are edible at any time, in any place.  Pumpkin pies are best when enjoyed with a slathering of whipped cream on top, and are also edible for most meals of the day.

Making pie crust is a delicate art, one which I strive to perfect, though my father is leaps and bounds ahead of me in the practice--and he's only been making pies for three years.  A good pie crust is light, buttery, flaky, etc.  It falls apart when one's fork punctures it, and the innards of the pie should ooze all over the plate, tempting the eater to lick his plate when finished with his pie (reason X why pie should be enjoyed solitarily, so that the eater can lick his plate without facing censure from society).  A good pie crust is not at all sweet - thus giving the eater the joy of the sweetness (preferably tart sweetness) of the pie innards without interference from the crust.

One final note - it is my firm belief that crumble tops are of the devil - they are cop-outs to making a pie top and get soggy too quickly.

In her own defense, Loren posted this comment:

My dear little sister >:)~

I am mortally anguished by your associating my boredom with apple pie and any sort of pact with the devil…But then, come to think of it, there is certainly a common link made between that dark creature and chocolate…No, I will not recant!

Much love, Loren
 

The Center Point

It often seems that my Advent meditations center around a single idea - often something meaningful to my reflections on the past year. Sometimes they're painful meditations. Sometimes they are joyous. Sometimes they are revelations. Sometimes they're old truths.

This year's meditations have focused the coming of the Christ as the center point of history. From creation to new creation, it all revolves around this one moment, in a little town in Judah, when the Redeemer of the world arrived as a newborn infant. Creation, Fall, Redemption: all wrapped together in skin and laid in a manger. 

Jesus: the Lord saves. Emmanuel: God with us. 

This has been, for me, a Rabbit Room year. Yes, technically my sister introduced me to the place more than a year ago, but this is the year when I've really experienced the community: had my eyes opened to the life being lived in that community and joined it myself. The Rabbit Room had a community Christmas gift exchange this year, and, while I didn't have the time to get involved myself, I wanted to share my thanks for the gifts the Rabbits have given me.

The artists who lead the community have blessed me beyond measure with the liturgy they've worked. Their songs, their stories, their essays, their insights have opened my eyes to new ways of looking at the world God has made and our role in it as Christians. 

The people who populate this cyber community have impacted me in ways they may not know. They've guided my steps as I've started this journey of discovery; they've shared their stories, their lives, their sorrows, their risks, their hearts. I have been encouraged. I have been challenged.

Without these groups, I may have considered Christmas differently this year. I may not have seen a Boy's birth as the center point of all history. Perhaps this was what God intended me to see this year anyway, but He used the members of the Rabbit Room to point and say, "Look." So here are some glances at the Christmas story as I've experienced it this year. May you see the Center Point and never look away.

from N. D. Wilson's Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl:

"Plan the event. Arrange the reception. The King of kings is coming. He will shoulder governments. He will be called the Prince of Peace, Wonderful Counselor...

"The Lord of all reality is coming to your hemisphere. And He, the pure Spirit, will take on flesh and need to eat and breathe and move His bowels, and have His diaper changed...

"He will be a carpenter, with splintered and blistered hands and cracking nails. One of His grandmothers was a whore of Jericho. He will enter the womb of a virgin and expand in the normal way. He will exit her womb in the normal way. And then she will suckle Him as the cows do their calves. Because, well, He will be mammal...

"The Lord came to clean the unclean. He brought the taint of Holiness, and it has been growing ever since. He was born in a barn and slept in a food trough. Maybe the livestock all took gentle knees, cognizant and pious, like the back page of a children's Christmas book. Maybe they smacked on their cuts and continued to lift their tails and muck in the stalls.

"The angels knew what was going on even if no one else did. They grasped the bizarre reality of Shakespeare stepping onto the stage, of God making Himself vulnerable, dependent, and human--making Himself Adam. And so, in a more appropriate spirit, they arranged a concert and put on what was no doubt the greatest choral performance in planetary history. 

"Were the kings gathered? Where were the people with the important hats? Where were the ushers, the corporate sponsors?

"The Heavenly Host, the souls and angels of stars, descended into our atmosphere and burst in harmonic joy above a field and some rather startled shepherds.

"But the crowd was bigger than that. The shepherds were a distinct minority. Mostly, the angels were just singing to sheep.

"I'm sure those animals paid attention, and not just because there was a baby in their food bowl."

from Russ Ramsey's Behold the Lamb of God: An Advent Narrative

"Though no one could have known all of this at the time, Jesus was the priest who became the sacrifice, the king who took on the form of a servant, the prophet who was himself the Word of God. He was Immanuel, God with us--Son of God, Son of Man.

"But the death and resurrection of Jesus only makes sense through the lens of his birth. God's eternal Son, who was present at creation when God made man in his likeness, humbled himself and took on flesh, born in the likeness of man. The Maker knitted him together in Mary's womb, fearfully and wonderfully forming each tiny part in the depths of her waters. God saw his unformed body. Every day ordained for him was recorded in his Father's book of life before a single one had come to pass.

"And now he has come.

"Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world."

from Andrew Peterson's Behold the Lamb of God: The TRUE Tall Tale of the Coming of Christ

So sing out with joy for the brave little boy

Who was God, but He made Himself nothing

He gave up His pride and He came here to die

Like a man

So rejoice, ye children sing
And remember now His mercy
And sing out with joy
For the brave little boy is our Savior
Son of God,
Son of Man

The Real Battle

As I listened to The Hobbit on CD today on my drive, I was struck by Tolkien's comments about Bilbo just before the hobbit sees Smaug for the first time.

"Wisps of vapour floated up and past him and he began to sweat. A sound, too, began to throb in his ears, a sort of bubbling like the noise of a large pot galloping on the fire, mixed with a rumble as of a gigantic tom-cat purring. This grew to the unmistakable gurgling noise of some vast animal snoring in its sleep down there in the red glow in front of him.

"It was at this point that Bilbo stopped. Going on from there was the bravest thing he ever did. The tremendous things that happened afterward were as nothing compared to it. He fought the real battle in the tunnel alone, before he ever saw the vast danger that lay in wait."

So often it is our own fear that is the greatest obstacle we face. Whatever the adventure that lies before us, whatever the risk we may take, the real battle is fought in the tunnel alone. We must first choose to step forward, before any tremendous adventure can come our way.

The Blind Writer

I had a professor once who said, “The writer is the one who points and says, ‘Look.’” I’ve internalized that idea so deeply that I can no longer recall who said it – the words are now mine, and I repeat them from time to time when I’m called upon to say what it is I do – I point. I say, “Look.” I write.

Monday was, as Anne Shirley so appropriately described, “a Jonah day.” It started with misplacing my phone before work and having to leave without it, continued through ordering the wrong drink at the coffee shop, realizing I forgot my lunch, discovering a project at work hadn’t been completed, speaking sharply to a coworker, apologizing to said coworker, learning no contact had been made with a prospect for a book endorsement when I had requested it two weeks earlier…the list goes on. Through it all I was working on the tedious task of implementing proofreading notes on a book manuscript. I left work at the end of the day, having told my roommate I would text her when I was on the way so she could put the rice on, only to realize that was impossible without a phone, and dinner would consequently be twenty minutes later for my hungry belly.

I found myself in the car, weeping, crying out to God and asking Him why I hadn’t realized I’d been cruel to my coworker, kicking myself for how I handled it all, angry that I hadn’t followed up on the missed pieces sooner, wracking my brain to figure how I would finish all the work on the manuscript before the deadline.

Even Anne’s perfect description for my day, when it came to me as I drove, gave me no comfort. Along with it came her other thought on the topic: “Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?” It’s that little word at the end that’s the problem: “yet.” It mocked me: “You’ll just do it all again tomorrow.”

The tears clouded my eyes; the thoughts crowded my mind. I ached at my own sinfulness and I couldn’t see a way out of it. The writer was blind. In such a state, how could she point? How could she look?

And then a new song started on the CD. It began with quiet strings and piano before Andrew Peterson’s voice began to gently prod,

Behold the Lamb of God

Who takes away our sin

Behold the Lamb of God

The life and light of men

Behold the Lamb of God

Who died and rose again

Behold the Lamb of God who comes

To take away our sin

“Behold.” Look.

My mind would wander back to the troubles of my Jonah day and AP would point again with that word, “Behold.”

Over and over again the phrase repeats in the song: “Behold the Lamb of God.” Look at the Son of God, Emmanuel, the hope of man. When the song ended, I went through again and again. “Behold.” Do not look elsewhere. Keep your eyes on the Lamb. Will you sin again tomorrow? Yes, and the Lamb of God will take away that sin, too. “Behold.”

When the writer is blind, who will point and say, “Look"? The voices of the prophets, of the musicians, of the artists, of all those who have beheld the Lamb and come to Him with their broken hearts, fallen far away from Him, only to see them renewed and restored by the One who died and rose again – they will echo together the call of John the Baptist, pointing and saying, “Look.”

To hear Andrew Peterson’s song “Behold the Lamb of God,” click here.

Starry Nite

The evening’s activities put me in mind of the event a year earlier. The tone both similar and worlds apart – a celebration of the start of the Christmas season, but this year without the aching heart and scratchy eyes of the day’s grief. As I walked away, the voices, amplified by microphones, echoed off the trees, the strains of the violin soaring above them.

I walked toward my car, alone in the deserted lot at the far end of campus. The tenor, the alto, and the violin together, haunting echoes of the originals, rode the chilly, crisp air: “O night, O Holy night, O night divine!”

And alone, I wept at the beauty of it all, that the Conqueror came in peace¹, on a quiet, holy night, to be pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; to take upon Himself the chastisement that brought us peace, to turn our sorrow into joy and our mourning into dancing. The power of Death was undone by an Infant born of glory². 

¹ Jason Gray. "Easier." Christmas Stories: Repeat the Sounding Joy.
² Andrew Peterson. "Gather 'Round Ye Children, Come." Behold the Lamb of God.

It's the moment you've all been waiting for...

In the 1998-1999 school year at Plymouth-Canton Educational Park, more commonly called "PCEP" or just, "the Park," my days as a high school senior were enlivened with a regular column in the PCEP Perspective student newspaper: "Ahmed's Top 11," written by my friend, Ahmed Baset.

Recently home to visit my parents for Thanksgiving, I came across clippings of my favorite columns, and, with Ahmed's permission, have decided to share them with the world. They are so classically representative of the late-90s high school zeitgeist and the Park's culture that they simply must be shared (plus, they're pretty funny).

So, to begin:

Ahmed's Top 11 Reasons You Should Go Trick-or-Treating

11. You can never get enough Dum-Dums and Smarties
10. It gives you an excuse to dress up as your favorite Spice Girl/Hanson member.
9. You can get a free slurpee at 7-11.
8. It's a chance to restock next year's Halloween candy supply to give out.
7. Two Words: King Size
6. It's the only day of the year you can cross dress and not get beat up for it.
5. The candy gives you something to throw at the people who dressed up as Spice Girls/Hanson members.
4. It'd be cool to bust out your old school Alf Costume.
3. You can try to find a wrong way to eat a Reece's Peanut Butter cup.
2. If you're a Marilyn Manson follower, it's the one night of the year you can get away with dressing like a prep.

And the drum roll please...
1. There's really no feeling like robbing a little kid's bag.

Ahmed's Top 11 Reasons Not to go to Canton's Homecoming

11. Math test on Monday.
10. None of your friends are going so you obviously can't go.
9. "Have to organize the sock drawer."
8. It's not cool to go to homecoming anymore.
7. You're saving your money for the Titanic video.
6. Your favorite blow up doll has a hole in it.
5. Like the guy you like was like such a jerk 'cuz he like liked your best friend who had the guts to like him back and you were like "like Dude no way!" and so like they're going to homecoming and like you're sitting at home painting your nails.
4. You decided it'd be cooler to key everyone's car that's at the dance.
3. Elton John concert is the same freakn' day.
2. No, "moshing, freaking, slam dancing," ...so what's the point?
Drum Roll Please...

1. Big America Online Night. Leonardo DiCaprio will be in a live chat room under keyword "Titanic."

Ahmed's Top 11 things to get your significant other for Valentine's Day

11. Dinner (everybody loves White Castle) and a movie (renting Home Alone 3 counts, right?)
10. Matching Tatoos. Display your love FOREVER.
9. A calendar of yourself for every month of the year.
8. The Ken Starr Report. Makes for good bathroom reading.
7. A chia pet. It really grows and lasts longer than roses.
6. Pez dispenser. Cheap and sexy.
5. Liz Isakson jumping out of a cake in nothing but a shoelace.
4. This guy right here.

3. N'SYNC tickets
2. A pink frisbee (Especially if your significant other happens to be Mikey Haddad)
1. You...lying on their bed...in nothing but whipped cream

And, finally, my personal all-time favorite:

Ahmed's Top 11 Reasons You Know You are Cool

11. You still hang out at what is known as "the tree."
10. You got those new pair of 18 dollar Abercrombie boxers.
9. You were on Gershon Leventhal's PolTalk debate on pornography.
8. You wear a colorful Yankee's hat curved toward the WEST SIDE!
7. You drive a Mercury Cougar.
6. You have a need to make out with your significant other between passing time. GET A ROOM!
5. You can clap and jump at the same time. GO TEAM!
4. You have a long neck key chain hanging out of your pocket.
3. You write a column called the top 11 that pisses a lot of people off.
2. You, Homer, Penny and other security guards hang out at Jeff's house on the weekends...
1. You're white and you wear FUBU.

Don't You Want to Thank Someone

I heard this song for the first time about a week ago at Andrew Peterson's Light for the Lost Boy release concert, and it's been in my mind ever since - not in the "stuck in my head" sense so much as the "stuck in my soul" sense. I've been washing it through my mind's ear over and over again...

I can't find anywhere online where you can hear the whole thing, but seriously, just go buy the album, this is the culmination of ten songs' worth of meditation on the Fall and Redemption - and the beauty of the Kingdom that we see now through a glass dimly.

Don't You Want to Thank Someone

Words and Music by Andrew Peterson / 1/10/2012, The Warren

Romans 8:19

Ephesians 1:13, 14

“The world is charged with the grandeur of God.” –Gerard Manley Hopkins

Can’t you feel it in your bones

Something isn’t right here

Something that you’ve always known

But you don’t know why

‘Cause every time the sun goes down

We face another night here

Waiting for the world to spin around

Just to survive

But when you see the morning sun

Burning through a silver mist

Don’t you want to thank someone?

Don’t you want to thank someone for this?

Have you ever wondered why

In spite of all that’s wrong here

There’s still so much that goes so right

And beauty abounds?

‘Cause sometimes when you walk outside

The air is full of song here

The thunder rolls and the baby sighs

And the rain comes down

And when you see the spring has come

And it warms you like a mother’s kiss

Don’t you want to thank someone?

Don’t you want to thank someone for this?

I used to be a little boy

As golden as a sunrise

Breaking over Illinois

When the corn was tall

Yeah, but every little boy grows up

And he’s haunted by the heart that died

Longing for the world that was

Before the Fall

Oh, but then forgiveness comes

A grace that I cannot resist

And I just want to thank someone

I just want to thank someone for this

Now I can see the world is charged

It’s glimmering with promises

Written in a script of stars

Dripping from prophets’ lips

But still, my thirst is never slaked

I am hounded by a restlessness

Eaten by this endless ache

But still I will give thanks for this

‘Cause I can see it in the seas of wheat

I can feel it when the horses run

It’s howling in the snowy peaks

It’s blazing in the midnight sun

Just behind a veil of wind

A million angels waiting in the wings

A swirling storm of cherubim

Making ready for the Reckoning

Oh, how long, how long?

Oh, sing on, sing on

And when the world is new again

And the children of the King

Are ancient in their youth again

Maybe it’s a better thing

A better thing

To be more than merely innocent

But to be broken then redeemed by love

Maybe this old world is bent

But it’s waking up

And I’m waking up

‘Cause I can hear the voice of one

He’s crying in the wilderness

“Make ready for the Kingdom Come”

Don’t you want to thank someone for this?

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Come back soon

Come back soon

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