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patterns of ink

How fruitless to be ever thinking yet never embrace a thought... to have the power to believe and believe it's all for naught. I, too, have reckoned time and truth (content to wonder if not think) in metaphors and meaning and endless patterns of ink. Perhaps a few may find their way to the world where others live, sharing not just thoughts I've gathered but those I wish to give. Tom Kapanka

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Location: Lake Michigan Shoreline, Midwest, United States

By Grace, I'm a follower of Christ. By day, I'm a recently retired school administrator; by night (and always), I'm a husband and father (and now a grandfather); and by week's end, I sometimes find myself writing or reading in this space. Feel free to join in the dialogue.

Monday, March 30, 2020

There Will Come Soft Rain...

On Saturday morning, March 28, 2020, I went out to get the mail (for the first time in several days) and saw large puddles everywhere. I had not heard the hard rain in the night, and now it was a very soft rain. I also noticed that mourning doves and song birds and cardinals and blue jays and crows were out in full chorus. It was as if spring had awakened, but I had not noticed until then. The calling birds and the soft rain immediately brought to mind Sara Teasdale's poem from 1918, "There Will Come Soft Rains." Teasdale's poem later inspired Ray Bradbury's classic sci-fi short story by the same name (1950), Both works serve as warnings that man's own actions will lead to his end, while non-human life will go one. (It's a premise for other fiction such as the Planet of the Apes franchise.) I contend, however, that whether by war or by virus, if the world as we know it is no longer inhabited by man, it will not be left to animals. God's plan for a new earth will not be altered from the metanarrative outlined in the Bible (creation, fall, redemption, restoration).
In Act III of Thornton Wilder's play Our Town, Emily comes out of her "flashback" and asks the Stage Manager this question: “EMILY: "Does anyone ever realize life while they live it...every, every minute?" STAGE MANAGER: "No. Saints and poets maybe...they do some.” Teasdale was a gifted poet, but her beautifully written lines reflect underscore a juxtaposition between "saints and poets" (maybe). That is to say, Teasdale's warning to her fellow man during the First World War makes the Darwinian assumption of "Nature's" protection of "fittest animals" while scripture tells "saints" quite the opposite about their Creator's attention and affection for man "made in His image. In Luke 12:6 and Matthew 6: 28, Jesus tells us clearly that while our Heavenly Father indeed takes care of birds who neither sow nor reap nor build barns, etc. that care is nothing compared to how He will take care of his children. These are the passages that inspired the old gospel song: "His Eye Is On the Sparrow." In the video, I also allude to Robert Burn's poem "To a Mouse" (1785) which reflects an understanding of of the Genisis mandate establishing man's dominion (Genisis 1:26 and 28) over the very creatures and trees that Teasdale imagines surviving after man is gone. It is the responsibility of that "dominion" that distinguishes the difference between the kind of cares that man has compared to the animal kingdom. Instinctive nesting, breeding, feeding, migration, etc. in the "Circle of Life" as the song says, is a marvel indeed, but it is quite different from the burdens of civilizations and the complexity of human coexistance. Man is prone to cares from our past and dread of future unknowns--especially when "the best laid plans of mice and men" do not pan out. (Or when viruses spread or travel plans halt or stock markets tumble or lay-offs loom large.)
It is for this reason that Christians take comfort in being able to "cast all our cares on Him" and songs like "His Eye Is On the Sparrow," which comes from Luke 12:6 and Matthew 6: 28. Keep that in mind as you watch the following:


The song "His Eye Is On the Sparrow" comes from Luke 12:6 and Matthew 6: 28. That well-known gospel song was written by Civillia D. Martin in 1905, thirteen years BEFORE Teasdale wrote her poem, and provides an encouraging contrast to "There Will Come Soft Rains."

Sunday, March 08, 2020

"Until a Tiny Hand"

We seldom see the struggle of what we’re
up against. Rarely do we understand
that first we must be fenced-in to know when
we are free; that joy and sorrow both burn
bright but more so in the darkness of night;
that battles are not for the strong alone—
in fact, He sometimes chooses things thought frail,
like one small boy or one smooth stone to fell
whatever stands…no matter what the odds.
Sometimes it’s not until a tiny hand
takes hold of ours... that we take hold of Gods.
© Tom Kapanka, 3-8-2020

Line 1: "What we’re up against..."  Ephesians 6:12 reminds us that not all of our struggles are in the physical world, but this does not mean that all physical issues are a result of spiritual things unseen. Like all things, they do reflect the fact that we live in a broken world--once made perfect but now fallen and awaiting a time of restoration. In the meantime, the concept of "common grace" means that sometimes what man calls "bad things" happen to good people" just as the rain falls on the crops of those who do not pray for rain and parched earth can befall the prayerful.

Line 2: "Rarely do we understand..."  I Corinthians 13:12 says, " For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
© Tom Kapanka, 3-8-2020





Wednesday, March 04, 2020

The Maker of Metaphor and Meaning

I discovered this unpublished draft in the files at my blog from March 2020.  I'm printing it now because it may otherwise be lost and never finished.... May 2,2025

The title poem of this blog includes the line: "I, too, have reckoned time and truth (content to wonder if not think) in metaphors and meaning and endless patterns of ink." This post is about a certain kind of metaphor that I have discussed with my sister Kathy who has done extensive research on the human brain.

A typical metaphor (similar to "simile") uses an image to help describe an unrelated image. An example would be "Jesus is the rock of my salvation." The "rock" or "cornerstone" image is found throughout scripture. A simile is another example of figurative language but it uses the word "like" or "as." An example would be Psalm 1:3 which says that a man who delights in the law of the Lord "shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water..."

We can understand the implied advantages of being like a tree by a river, but what do we call a metaphor when the similarity between two very different things seems to reflect a common creator, an intelligent design that is replicated in two dissimilar things?  This may be a bit of a reach, because by definition, metaphors are not to be taken literally, and the two comparisons I'm about to describe are in fact so similar in design and appearance that this discussion may transcend literary terms and reflect a more literal reality.

Let's take that simile from Psalm 1:3 again. There are two realities inside a healthy human being that are indeed very like a tree. Until recently, we were unaware of these similar designs and functions.

The image at the left is inside our body. The image at the right is a 250-year-old oak tree in my back yard. It takes little imagination to see that the two things are like each other in structure but unlike each other in substance. One is a vascular system and the other resembles a vascular system while relying on a similar internal system for transporting fluid.

The first photograph above is of the veins and arteries of the human heart  which in turn pushes blood to the lungs and entire body. (The photo is up-side-down for effect.) In that vascular system, the function is called circulation; in the oak tree is called transpiration (not circulated but drawn up from the roots in the ground).

A similar "branch" structure appears when brain cells grow in a system of dendrites from one common "trunk" into ever-smaller bifercating "branches."

The third photo shows dendrites in the brain. The bottom photo is another oak tree.
 When scripture talks about the renewing of your mind, it is not figurative language. The process of transforming the mind--renewing it--is a literal physical "growing" of dendrites, branches from branches.

Here is the reason these images have been on my mind this week...

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