parabolic living and anecdotal education

I have mentioned in this space my ongoing quest to live and see more parabolically, to see as Jesus saw in an effort to walk as Jesus walked. Maybe it is that push that drove me to read a book called “How Soccer Explains the World” by Franklin Foer. Maybe I just wanted an easy history lesson for my own pursuit of some bizarre/trivial academic elitism.

Using soccer as the lens through which to view world history, the book dives into such varying subjects as Serbian militias, Spain’s autonomous/anti-Castilian regions, the Balkan Wars, anti-Semitism, the Scottish proclivity towards religious persecution, and an American xenophobia that percolates just under the surface of our everyday life.

I enjoyed the book in its ability to see more than what is happening on the surface and for its ability use simple anecdotes to educate me about larger realities. Education by anecdote – the choice of a new generation.

con le parole

con le parole...

this is your life

I am late to the party on this one...

Still...working through some of the truth within. Don't close your eyes...

ellis park, johannesburg: the silliness of soccer and the memories it made

There was a day, as residents of Johannesburg, when Stef and I welcomed some Americans and decided to show them what we thought South African culture really was. This small group was interested in something authentic, something real. They had been knee-deep in the most impoverished places in the world and wanted to see what really substantiated a South African existence.

We took that group to the Apartheid Museum and jokingly separated them by race (see photo) and then we stopped by historic Ellis Park to catch an international soccer match between the USA and South Africa. The Museum was heavy history and perspective. The soccer was light fun, a window into the diversionary passion of South Africa's Everyman.

At Ellis Park, the vuvuzelas were in full force and our folks got a true taste of life for everyday South Africans. There was chanting and dancing and some funny smelling smoke floating in the air battling the smell of sidewalk pap and chicken for nostrilian dominance. We sat in the cheap seats with the poor folks and just generally enjoyed blending into a culture to which we did not belong.

This Sunday, the USA again plays soccer in Ellis Park, this time in the final of a high-profile international tournament, the Confederations Cup. The vuvuzelas will again hum and the smell of pap and chicken will waft in the air. I can still see it, smell it, and taste it. I am thankful that something as silly as soccer can bring such warm memories.

that album that feels like home...

I was organizing some iTunes this week and re-discovered an album that was really transformative in my journey. I listened to the words and realized just how much they meant to me and how I can now imagine the scenes of that season as vividly as if it were right in front of me.

Do you remember that album that seemed to change your trajectory, define a season, or bring perfect meaning to a place? What is on your transformative album list? Is there anything embarrassing in hindsight? Are there albums you didn't even know were that important at the time but now seem so monumental? Leave a comment. I'd love to know that I'm not alone here.