daily life as life goes on . . .

We were flying into Bible territory yesterday in our morning church service.  Our pastor was talking about the prodigal son in Luke 15.  We got to verse 13 and he made a point of what a young son was doing – as the New Living Translation says, “wild living”.  This became a bit of unison repetition throughout the sermon by the congregation to emphasize this point.

Of course, with my curiosity to know what the Greek said I turned to the passage.  The living part was easy – it says living!  The wild part?  One English translation just calls this living “prodigally”.  Not much help. 

The Greek word is asotos (with a few accents here and there which I will ignore for your sake).  Akin to another Greek word that really is “a prodigal”.  This is the only time this particular form of the word is used in the New Testament. 

Having said that, here are some words that have been used to describe asotos:  unsavedness (what can’t be saved – waste), wastefulness, wantonness, profligacy, dissipation, incorrigibleness, abandoned, debauchery, excess, riotous, loose.  Of course, you need to compare this to other Greek writers of the time to get context for what this word may have meant.  Perhaps all of these things or maybe just one or two?

In some ways you can choose your definition.  I would want to make the point that the older brother (who presumably kept up with spying out the younger brother) points out a few verses later that the younger brother was with prostitutes.  Maybe not all he was doing, but something he was doing.  Thus I would want my definition to include prostitutes in some way. 

At the very least, the “away from home” behaviour was not good. 

I guess “wild” could describe it!

These last few days I’ve been reminded, revitalized and reenergized to return to music.

Some friends of mine (working with a group called Deeper Life out of Strasbourg, SK – and in collaboration with Eston College and some other musicians I know) have put out some new music tracks.  They are great!  Professional and accessible.  I’ve linked to these previously.

What does this do to me? 

Let me take you back to my early adult years.  I sang in music groups throughout my undergrad (and even some grad) days.  Some were short summer tours, one was a year long throughout US and Canada, another was two couples just singing together in a quartet – and there were more.

Everywhere I have gone, I somehow end up doing music.  I have had other desires (and been able to head in those directions).  But when I hear good music, see great musicians, and attend artistic venues I’m stirred to promote or participate in music. 

When the music produced by Deeper Life came out in the last week, I was all on board to get back into the music scene.  I pulled out some old recordings I have done with others.  I listened to the music and mood of the recordings.  I was struck that these are accessible songs.  Maybe they need to be revived and put out to a broader audience.

That was just the start of my thinking.  So much more has run around in my head – and maybe this is the solid beginnings of a new venture.  We’ll see.

I’ve often thought about thinking.  How does this work?  Why do I need to think?  What happens when I think too much?  Can I think too much?

Yesterday was no exception.

The roads were not good so I didn’t travel down to my work at Eston College.  The evening session I was to attend was cancelled.  My wife is currently in Calgary enjoying the grandson!

Now, I could have moved into the mindlessness of entertainment – internet has more than enough (I did spend some time on entertainment, but much less that I might have expected).  Or I could have slept all day (I find that a great past-time – and it really does pass time).

Or I could read, work out details for a class I am teaching, and just think.

I chose the latter and at the end of the day – it was a good day.

My next in line brother was a world traveller!  His life was too early snatched away by cancer in 2005.

At his funeral we were reminded of two ladies he had met in New Zealand a few years back.  They had become known to the family as they visited Canada and as my parents visited them in New Zealand.  And then the yearly Christmas greetings continued.

Now years later, at my mother’s death, they have sent a note of condolence.  A touching reminiscence of the years of contact, of the impact the family had on them, and of pure graciousness in our time of sorrow.

This is certainly one way to gauge friendship!