Matt Maher is producing a variety of materials in the weeks before Easter.
One is this recording of his song Clean Heart.
Matt Maher is producing a variety of materials in the weeks before Easter.
One is this recording of his song Clean Heart.
I’m reading Can’t Even by Anne Helen Peterson, a social exploration subtitled How Millenials Became The Burnout Generation.
The generalisation that an indulgent society raised a generation of individuals who lack resilience is challenged by the notion that preceding generations have instead nurtured a culture that present generations are now experiencing in full flower, a culture with constant striving but no pay-off.
That western culture in the past 100 years or so (particularly after World War 2) is something of a pyramid scheme that functions by drawing on a greater and greater sense of aspiration until we’ve finally hit a point where the normal expression of that sense of aspiration (achieving and having more than the generation that preceded – that raised – it) just cannot ordinarily be achieved.
As church and ministry cultures have changed, this brings a question in my mind as to whether that dominant cultural expression has been subconsciously informing those new church and ministry cultures mirroring the trend toward producing burnout.
This means we don’t try to demand more resilience, but ask whether the culture itself is creating the damage.
Church culture should be the opposite, a culture that refreshes instead of drains, a culture that encourages faithfulness for its own sake rather than demanding results that only lead to an expectation of further results.
We’ve been perfecting very good nachos.
This is something else again.
Eerily disquieting.
I only vaguely wonder what it tastes like.
A couple of years ago I posted about Gene Kelly dancing on roller skates in the movie It’s Always Fair Weather.
I finally got to see the movie today.
After an exuberant opening, the storyline is somewhat downbeat for the majority of the movie, dealing with the experiences of three returned servicemen reuniting for the first time, ten years after the conclusion of World War 2.
Oddly enough, the less sentimental treatment may suit modern sensitivities more than the preferences of audiences back in 1955 when it was released.
For some reason two years ago I was somewhat dismissive of Kelly’s roller skate inspired solo dance, which is really quite impressive.
Another couple of signature Kelly pieces of choreography include the three male leads dancing with a metal rubbish lid on each of their left feet, and later the trio share a three-way split screen dance that makes imaginative use of the Cinemascope width of the screen.
The ending is somewhat hopefully wistful, as obstacles are more recognised, than definitively done away with.
Which is more like life.
Cyd Charisse also features, curiously not dancing with Kelly, but rather featuring with an ensemble in a boxing gym of all places; where she impresses the patrons with her command of relevant sporting knowledge. Among other things. Her singing is dubbed, but the dancing is all Charisse.