Tag Archives: faith

Abstract

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abstract: (adj.) existing in thought or as an idea but not having a physical or concrete reality.

Isn’t that religion?

I mean, I’m not trying to be provocative, but I believe that would actually be the definition of a religious experience–something that exists in thought or in belief, with no actual physical manifestation readily available.

People would object to that characterization. They would say that their particular brand of spirituality was ripe with fruitfulness and examples of prosperity. But there are those who would contradict them by saying that the cases they cite could easily be explained by pointing out the individual’s  talent, perseverance or by what some would view as “dumb luck.”

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

In other words, faith is abstract.

And even though “abstract” is considered to be an insult, especially when we sling it at someone else to explain their reasoning powers or value to us, the removal of the abstract is an attempt to live on a diet of mere practicality–things that can be handled, observed or studied. Believe you me, that kind of intake is very similar to attempting to convince yourself that the Caesar salad you had for lunch is great–and JUST as tasty as partaking of the pizza buffet.

Yes, spirituality is the pizza buffet. It is the intake of emotional and eternal calories which plump up our spirits with joy and hope.

That’s why I make a distinction between spirituality and religion. Religion points out how I’m different from the person kneeling next to me. Spirituality reminds me that I’m part of a much larger earth family.

So in a discussion with anyone about the integrity of atheism or agnosticism over believing in an eternal spirit and Creator of us all, those who share a Father in heaven rather than a mere common ooze will always lose out and be accused of being ignorant and believers in fairy tales.

But amazingly enough, when a bomb blows up in Boston or a fertilizer plant explodes in Texas, nobody ever runs to the library to gain greater knowledge. We turn, instead, to the abstract. We bow down and supplicate. We hope, deep inside ourselves, that life has a greater meaning than the mere passage of hours, days, months and years.

I guess some people would insist that in our hour of need, we become more ignorant. I think we just become more thirsty for the power and the comfort … of the abstract.

 

Absonent

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Absonent: (adj.) discordant or unreasonable.

Actually, my “discordant brothers and sisters” in music thought I was the unreasonable one. Almost universally, they decided to pursue a life of making absonent compositions that were completely atonal and vacant melodic and harmonic tenderness. They contended that all the possible linkage of notes had already been achieved, and anything done now would simply be a rehashing of former inspiration.

I just found it sad. It’s very similar to going to a meeting and having the moderator inform all those attending that it was decided not to do much of anything because everything that was brought up seemed to be either impossible or just a remake of old ideas.

When did we become so cynical? When did we discover we lacked faith in the abilities that pulsate through our bodies–so much so that we can’t take the chance that something original could spring through our gray matter? Why do people feel intelligent nowadays by finding reasons that things should not work instead of taking the time to champion a cause and risk trying something that could be beneficial?:

I don’t know.

But in a six-year period, I sat down and wrote twelve symphonies. I did. I don’t know if they’re great. I don’t know if someone would listen to them and insist they heard hints of “this and that” and garnishes of “whatever.” In the moment I composed them, they were original to me, and they thrust my soul light-years ahead in awareness and jubilation. That can’t be bad, right?

So the next time you get around someone who insists that the intellectual approach to any situation is to be discordant or nasty, just quietly slip away to your room, write a melody that comes from your heart, and sing it with the confidence that it is yours and yours alone.

For after all, in that moment … it truly is.

Absence

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Absence: n. 1. the state of being away from a place or person 2. the nonexistence or lack of

Sometimes it’s just knowing that if you had something you’d be happier or if you were with someone, you could be content.

You see, that’s the danger of experiencing happiness. I think it’s why some people avoid it. I mean, if you just go neutral, pretending that things are supposed to be hard, tough or mean, then when things end up being exactly that way, you can comment that you really are not surprised because it’s what you expected.

Absence happens when we have taken the risk to allow something to fill our space, knowing that it might not last. Sometimes we wonder why life seems mediocre, as we purposely walk away from everything that might give it meaning.

But I am sympathetic. It’s a scary thing to live a life where you pursue joy and fulfillment because if it goes away, the pain and sadness are even deeper.

Yet the absence we feel in our soul over failing to participate is a bottomless well.

What a mess! If we chase the moon and we never escape Earth’s atmosphere, we will be disappointed. If we stare at our shoes and pretend there is no moon, we are equally as deprived. So it’s really a question of which “absence” you want to experience. Do you want the absence of ANY possibility of excitement and risk? Or do you want the absence of pursuing excitement and risk, tasting the first fruits, but forfeiting the blessing?

I don’t know.

But I am aware of this:

  • The human body was meant to be active.
  • The human heart was meant to feel.
  • The human soul was intended for faith
  • And the human brain was constructed to gain knowledge.

So I guess, whether we like it or not, the only way to be happy is to risk the absence of it in our lives.

Abraham

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abraham: (n.) the Hebrew patriarch from whom all Jews trace their descent.

Yeah, let’s talk about Abe.

You see, the problem is, he had two families. Like so many men, he may like to forget the first one when he finds that “love is better the second time around.” But it doesn’t change the fact that he is also the father of the Arab nation.

One daddy, two families–with one of the families somewhat ignored by Papa in favor of the other, more acceptable choice.

This whole problem in the Middle East is really just a giant family squabble. Abraham decided to take his servant girl as a lover and even though his wife approved, supposedly, she later became jealous when the baby born through the process started growing up and hit puberty.

Then the story gets all messed up. One woman gets jealous of another woman, chases her out of the scene, and a young man grows up without his daddy–but still definitely linked to him.

So you can see, it would be very difficult for the Jews and the Palestinians to come to the peace table when the Jews are convinced they are Abraham’s ONLY children and the Arabs believe they deserve a piece of the matzoh.

And Abraham comes out of this whole thing unscathed. Even Christians try to tie themselves back into the “seed of Abraham,” although Jesus made it clear that God was “able to take stones and make children of Abraham.” Matter of fact, that pretty well describes the children of Abraham, doesn’t it? Stubborn people with rocks in their heads.

We see the same situation in this country today, as people divorce and think they can maintain a couple of different families without there being any friction. It never works, though we will continue to do it simply because our lust, passions and preferences demand it.

So you can feel free to talk about the faith of Abraham–but even the Bible that tells his story lets us know that he was just a man who occasionally lied, took short cuts, and let his wife push him around, leading him to abandon a little family he’d put together, which has now turned into a great nation at odds with his other family-nation.

What a mess.

Sometimes it’s just better if you keep it in your pants–or, in the case of Abraham, your robe.

Abide

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abide: 1. v.  accept or act in accordance with a rule, decision or recommendation 2. unable to tolerate: “I cannot abide…” 3. of a feeling or memory–continue without fading or being lost

As is often the situation when I hear the definitions for these words, I realize that I have created my own mental dictionary of what things mean, frequently having absolutely no basis.

I always thought “abide” meant to hang around, like three guys on a Saturday afternoon sprawled across the room, telling stories about what they wish they could do, will probably never do, but will insist someday when they’re old that they did.

I thought abiding was what faith, hope and love did because they were built into the woodwork and history of the framework.

Abiding is NOT hanging around. Abiding is hanging in there.

I realize that’s what’s missing from my life, and maybe the lives of many Americans. As long as you want us to just “hang around,” we’re fine. But the minute you define the cause, point out a specific direction or demand a commitment, we put into practice our well-rehearsed list of excuses and go “splitsville.”

Hanging in there is a tough thing.

I remember once playing a football game, and at the end of the first quarter our team was down 32-0. The prospects of victory were slim. We were unable to stop the other team from scoring and only felt satisfaction that we were bolstering their egos and padding their stats. But you see, it was the end of the first quarter. There were three more of them to come. The danger in football is that if you play the game halfway, you’re much more likely to get injured. So it was definite that even though we were going to get smeared, we would have to see the game through to the end.

So we set some small goals. For instance, hiking the ball and handing it off without fumbling. Another one was tackling the opponent before he gained twenty yards. And certainly the most important aspiration that kept us “hanging in there” was to make sure the final score was not 128-0.

We lost the game 64-0, having held them to 32 points in the final three quarters.

Although humiliating, we left the field uninjured and just a little bit tickled that we survived such an absolute cataclysmic event without committing suicide.

Abiding is hanging in there–which only gives us one major goal: find something worthy of our hanging.