Song of the Abased

Song of the Abased

by Tim Reed

We reach out from the sackcloth and the ashes

From the pit of the grave, we emerge

We are called to the invisible path of Faith

We can't deny the purpose for which we've been made

Is what we see truly all there is?

Or are we living our lives in a world not our own?

Pressed down, we are crushed, torn, and battered

with our faith that as a pauper, we will wear a crown

Despised, hated, and rejected - we hold a thread unseen by all

This faith we have will never be easy,

but hold we must, no matter how low we fall.

Falling, we rise.

Dying, we live.

Dead, we arise.

Cursed - we live again. 

We reach out from the sackcloth and the ashes

From the pit of the grave, we emerge

We are called to the invisible path of Faith

We can't deny the purpose for which we've been made

How can we truly go on living,

when all we have is ripped away?

How can we cope with such great sorrow,

when all are are is fallen away? 

These flames of doubt tear at our being

but they've forgotten that their day is Near.

Through the clouds, in crimson path descending

on a Steed as white as Snow

Will come our King, the victory shout resounding

All doubt will Cease - no more crying now.

Falling, we rise.

Dying, we live.

Dead, we arise.

Cursed - we live again. 

We reached out from the sackcloth and the ashes

from the pit of the grave, we Emerged

We held fast - sure is our Faith

We Behold the Purpose for which we've been Made

Fallen, we rose

Dying, we lived

Dead, we arose

Cursed - we live again. 

 

Ode to Antiquity

by Tim Reed

I read into your eyes

- I see a half century

I gaze on your words

- I see a full epoch

 Strong hands grip my shoulders

- I know your thoughts

Dangling mosses caress my brow

- I know your pain

Ink forms puddles about my feet

 - the same book, a different line

 Pages flow through my soul

- your voice echoes to eternity.

opus 43

opus 43

by Tim Reed

Come, o White-hair

and let us discourse together.

Instruct me in the ways of the aged,

teach me from the heart of experience.

Lead me on a path far from the snares of youth,

that I may take sure and wise paths.

You who have dined with kings

and laughed with fools -

how do you slake your Thirst?

You who have tasted

both water and wine -

how do you satisfy

the Burning within?

You who have walked

with knights and knaves -

what is the reward

of Justice?

The sluggard and the acolyte -

both you have known.

But both are drawn together to Sheol.

What then is the sum of our travail?

You who have loved and hated -

what does the vexation of our heart profit us?

You who have searched out the secrets of the heavens -

and seen the horrors of war -

what is the merit of learning and strategy?

You who have revealed and disclosed -

guarded and obscured -

what good does a shrewd mind bring forth?

Tell me, Old Man,

for I am waiting.

Tell me, Old Man,

if you know such things.

Tell me, Old Man,

the one bitter secret to make life sweet.

Tell me, Old Man,

if you know.

Let us reason together, if that has merit.

Let us discuss the heart, if that is profitable.

Let us speak of fools and kings, of knights and knaves, if indeed justice is just.

Let us reveal and obscure deep secrets, if there truly are any.

Let us build and tear down empires, if there truly are riches to be had.

Tell me, Old Man,

if indeed you have learned

these things unseen,

unknown,

unfelt.

Tell me, Old man,

if you know.

On the Devaluation of Communication and Relationships

by Tim Reed

     It's apparently that time of year again- the time for the obligatory young-adult Facebook purge. Pardon me if I'm not excited by your valiant "counter-cultural effort". But if you have an interest to know why I'm disinterested, please read on.

     Economics. The reason I have lost my interest in the vast majority of social media is economics. Let me illustrate. You have something of extreme value to you - perhaps a priceless family heirloom. All of a sudden, a man knocks on your front door and offers to buy this treasure from you. As you are hard up on cash, you are interested in the man's offer and ask him how much he is willing to pay you. With a gleam in his eye, he gives you the choice between 10 pounds of gold or 10 pounds of dirt. 

What would you choose? 

    Wouldn't you choose the gold (banning the idea that you are, perhaps, a fanatical gardener)? Why? Don't we value more what is rare and beautiful? Why isn't dirt as valuable? Isn't it because it is everywhere and we see it all the time? Why are people willing to pay so much for priceless art? Isn't it because it's absolutely unique and almost never seen? At this time, I think my parallel should be blatantly obvious. 

     What value do we place in communication when it is so easily done and so readily received? What value is there in people's words and voices when we see them every day, in an endless barrage of social media? All day long, everyday we receive idea after idea after idea with no cost to us. Routinely we share thoughts, post after post after post with decreasing impact. In the wake of the electronic age, we have lost the necessary cost of relationship. We have lost our meaning as a society, and what have we gained instead? 

Insecurity. 

Fear.

Meaningless communication.

Shallow relationships.

Call me an old soul if you like - it's not an insult to me. I don't mind criticizing the new if it's meaningless.

     There was a time when communication actually mattered - when people mattered. There was a time when communication was weighty - when you remembered what was said to you by those people you choose to be in fellowship with. Words had value - but they were more rare. Words had value because they were more rare. You knew people - but you knew less people. People had value because you knew them, because you knew less people. Friendship meant more when we were more concerned with the quality of our friendship rather than the quantity of our friendships.

    Relationships used to cost us something. Communication used to cost us something. It came as an epiphany to me when I realized that when I removed all barriers for people to be friends or to communicate, something strange happened. People didn't form friendships. People didn't participate in deep communication. Friendship without cost is like breathing without air - it doesn't work. I can think of two of the best forms of communication (and therefore friendship - for how can friendship exist without communication?), and neither of them is without barriers, and both require investment. First of all, I can think of spending intentional time with people, face-to-face. This requires that we set aside time!

 "But I don't have any time to give!"

    You don't know how many times I've said that. And here's the truth for you - you never will have enough time. But true friendship isn't about cramming meaningful relationships into the open places in our life - it's about carving time out of our schedules because we value something. It's going to cost us something somewhere, but the reward of true friendship and communication is priceless. When you look at it this way, prioritization becomes pretty straightforward.

    Secondly, I think that we should bring back writing letters.

"But it's so awkward!" "I have horrible hand-writing!" "I don't have the time to write a letter!"

Again, I used to believe all of these things until I really looked at letter-writing. First of all, it takes time. Valuable time. Ring any bells yet? It costs us, and sometimes dearly. We have to set apart time to write (an archaic skill for many of us who have a keyboard-centrism that is alarming in and of itself for a myriad of reasons). We have to work through hand cramps and live without the world of "backspace" and "autocorrect". Transparency comes more naturally because our flaws and humanity comes through in a profound way - flaws that need to be shared. In addition, it costs us postage! But it just adds another layer of meaning to our communication. That person is valuable - my communication with that person is valuable.

    My day lights up when I receive a hand-written letter because I see the value! I know that whoever wrote to me thought that communicating with me was worth the cost - they think that I'm worth the cost. And when I work my way back through all of those same barriers, I am privileged to show the same thing.

     As much as people don't stress the vehicle for communication and the medium for friendships these days, I want to leave a golden legacy behind me. I don't want to participate in the deluge of information anymore - I want to breathe value into my words and relationships. I want people to remember me as a real person - flawed and messy, but real. Maybe you won't be comfortable with my transparency, but I'm going to be transparent anyway.

 These are my thoughts, and they're gritty - my sister says that I'm "abrasive". But that's real. I don't just want to be real, I want people to experience how real I am and experience the value I place on them. And I want to know the real people around - I want to learn about them in real ways.

     And this is fundamentally why I'm not impressed with these temporary social media purges. Since when has sacrificing shallow fellowship for two weeks become something that is laudable in and of itself? Inevitably, you come back to your stream of endless communication, like a pig to the slop - too afraid to leave behind a part of your culture you view as indispensable.I've gotten sucked in too, so I'm not just writing inflammatory anti-social-media propaganda as a person with their head stuck in the sand. I know how hard it feels, but isn't it worth it to reclaim a part of our humanity that is so distorted by our concept of friendship and communication?

    So what about my fear of missing out? It's there. I'll freely own up to that. But I'm also willing to fight for real, valuable communication. I'm willing to fight for costly, messy relationships. I'm not asking you step out with me, but I am asking you to think about the importance not only of what we say, but how we say it.

I think that the difference could be just what we've been missing.