Introverts in the Church

Today I've been reading and marking up a couple of really interesting articles that I found by following links from Tonia's blog. One of them is a sample chapter from a new book by Adam McHugh. The book is called Introverts in Church, and the sample chapter is called "Extroverts in the Church." The premise is that Americans' admiration for extroverted behavior, especially in leadership, has spilled over into they way our churches, and especially our evangelical churches, are structured. The result is that introverts sometimes feel spiritually inferior because they can't keep up the level of involvement that others do, or because they don't like to share every detail of their thoughts.

While McHugh rightly points out that no one should use personality as an excuse for stagnation, I found the article inspiring. Renewal often comes from within the hearts of quiet and thoughtful Christians as they seek the will of God in prayer. And many Christians badly want to know that they can work for the good of the Kingdom without having to force themselves into a mold that feels not merely like a stretch, but like a round peg in a square hole. McHugh encourages introverts not to automatically disqualify themselves from leadership positions, because sometimes their steadiness and insight is just what a group needs.

I've put a link at right in the Delicious bookmarks.

If I don't post again for a while, it's just because I'm finding that my thoughts are too slow and tentative to make posts lately. I'll be back when the atmosphere becomes conducive to posting once again.

Good Advent to you!

Metropolitan Museum today

Johannes Vermeer (Dutch, 1632–1675)

The Milkmaid, about 1657–58

Oil on canvas; 17 7/8 x 16 1/8 in. (45.5 x 41 cm)

Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Purchase, 1908, with aid from the Rembrandt Society

This morning we made our annual pilgrimage to see the Angel Tree at the Metropolitan Museum. Again, we took no photos. But we still noted the variations in the figures. CZ never seems to get too old for the Angel Tree or the Nutcracker, which we'll go see tomorrow night. They are her childhood Advent memories.

We were also there because Bob wanted a chance to see Vermeer's The Milkmaid, on loan from the Rijksmuseum. CZ and I had been to the exhibit before, but you can never go too many times, because it's always crowded and you only get a glimpse of the small, intimate painting. I am always struck by how clear and vibrant the color is in the painting compared to its reproductions, so I look mainly at the color and luminosity when I go. Everyone else, it seems, is looking for the tile with Cupid on it, which I guess explains why someone's head is always six inches from the painting. I think the next time they create an audio guide, they ought to talk about some esoteric effect that can only be seen from ten feet back.

;-)

After Vermeer and the Angel Tree, we wandered around way upstairs in the Early American section, to escape the crowds. I hadn't thought about it beforehand, but when CZ and I were standing in the Wentworth Room, I noticed some similarities between the furnishings in the room and those in the Vermeer paintings downstairs. "Hey, do you notice anything in particular about these furnishings?" I commented to CZ. (I was trying not to be too obvious, because sometimes she thinks I am.)

"No," she responded.

"The furnishings are like those in the Vermeer paintings," I pointed out, again trying not to be too didactic. "Like the rug on the table. And the tankard on the mantlepiece..."

"And the Splenda packet on the floor," she added.

I looked down, and there was indeed an used Splenda packet just on the other side of the railing. I remember reading somewhere that this was where E.L. Konigsburg got the idea to write The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. She and her sons were in one of the rococo rooms on the first floor and saw a piece of popcorn in a chair...

Thanksgiving

Having started and abandoned several thoughtful posts because of interruptions, I am going for the newsy.

It was a lovely Thanksgiving. I took not one photo of turkey, wild rice salad, pumpkin pie, or any of the rest of it, but if a turkey doesn't get blogged, it's still a turkey. We had another family over for dessert, which was a nice compromise between preserving some tradition for just the three of us, and sharing hospitality. When she wasn't involved in preparing the dinner, CZ was strolling through the house with her violin, alternating between 19th century violin concertos and "Old French" or the hoedown. I thought the fiddle pieces fit the feel of the day nicely.

In between dinner and dessert, I called my sister, who entertained me with a story about how she and my parents had agreed not to cook a Thanksgiving dinner this year and only have dessert, yet each had privately started cooking, and they wound up with more than enough dinner for two families after all.

My heart was at least partially in Georgia already, since between cooking tasks, I sat down and read most of the journal I kept for CZ between the time she was born and our move to NYC when she was three. I thought to do this because of a conversation I'd had with a friend about CZ's funny habit of memorizing states when she was two. So I went back to make sure I had the timing right, and then read the rest of the journal as well. The two-year-old CZ was, of course, endearing, and I even came to the conclusion that I was a better parent then than I am now. (Maybe the job was simpler.) I also came to the conclusion that CZ's personality was well established before her third birthday. Simply by writing what I observed, I had made an uncannily prescient sketch of who she is today.

But what struck me most was the simplicity of our lives. When we lived in Georgia, our lives had a definite and given structure due to our status as a student family, our roles as the parents of a toddler, and the small size of the town where we lived (Athens). I had never heard of the MacLaren stroller that is the staple of Manhattanites, much less the Bugaboo. I was happy to have something decent to wear and didn't worry about being hip. CZ wore hand-me-downs. About the only extra-curricular offering for toddlers was a gymnastics class, and our other outings included watching the UGA marching band practice and going to the library. I spent CZ's naps painting portraits, for grocery money. (CZ carried on conversations with these two-dimensional children, as though they were dolls, and tried to share her sippy cup with them.) I cleaned a lot, left the windows open and turned the heat down, and cooked really inexpensive food. And when exam time came, I went to Grandma's for a few days.

I was reminded of all this yesterday, not only because I read the journal, but because I spilled some water from the drip pan into the oven and smoked up the whole apartment. We opened all the windows as wide as they would go, and somehow with the cool breeze and the smoky smell, I felt was in Georgia in fall. Smells can evoke very specific memories, and these were just what I needed to get some perspective on our busy fall.

Window shopping

Bob took a business trip to Germany a couple of weeks ago, mostly staying in Mainz and Munich. He usually gets a little free time during these trips, but only an hour or two, so he tries to walk around and get a feel for whatever city he's in. And he takes along our camera so he can bring back a bit of the flavor to us. Bob has his favorite subjects to photograph, and one of them is shop windows. I think this is because New Yorkers spend a lot of time passing by display windows, so it's interesting to see another country's twist on the same theme.

We were rather amused by this ad, which is obviously supposed to evoke New York. The photo editor must have thought red would stand out better than orange, though, because he/she changed the color of the subway line.

I can tell Bob must be looking forward to ski season. The Germans have such techno-style!

Anyway, I have a few more of these I may post as I have time. We are still much busier than usual, but every now and then I have a bit of time to reflect, and it's so nice!

Recording session

One of the things we did last week was to record C.Z.'s jury pieces, a Bach Partita and the first movement of Mozart's Violin Concerto No. 3. I'm posting the Partita below. (Thanks, Rick, for helping me upload this music file!)

The Partita is spare, unaccompanied, and lasts about four-and-a-half minutes. The recording isn't perfect, but it's a good first try for a student, and shows what kind of quality recording is available in New York City for young violinists.

The make-up jury seemed to go well, and C.Z. got some nice compliments, though she probably won't get her jury score for a week or two. It's a really nice way to mark the passage from last year's injury setbacks to what we hope will be smoother sailing this year. We'll still be going to physical therapy for a while, but I'm glad to see C.Z. practicing again, because that's what she likes to do.

Oh, yes, and there was an orchestra concert, too! Nutcracker, Merry Wives of Windsor, and Weber's Konzertstucke with the solo performed by last year's piano concerto competition winner. Bob's mother came up from Georgia, we had some family friends in attendance, and we invited C.Z.'s stand partner's mother to sit with us as well. They just moved here from China two months ago and speak almost no English, but luckily, our friends spoke Mandarin and were able to translate. Great fun!

An American wins the New York City Marathon!

Here are a just few pictures from today's New York City Marathon. Meb Keflezighi became the first American to win the New York City Marathon since Alberto Salazar in 1982. And the Americans did very well overall this year, taking six of the top ten men's places, and four of the top ten women's places.

Robert Cheruiyot and Meb Keflezighi on Fifth Avenue in Spanish Harlem, just before mile 23. Cheruiyot is still ahead, but Meb is right behind him! (You can enlarge any of these photos by clicking on them.)

Ryan Hall is in fifth place here, but he finished fourth. (I put this photo in just for you, Susan!)

The lead women, including Paula Radcliffe, Christelle Daunay, Ludmilla Petrova, and eventual winner Derartu Tulu. (Paula Radcliffe sustained an injury during the race.)

A couple of our own local heroes. Bob and his friend David engaged in a bit of banditry by jumping in for four miles with their friend Roberto.

This was the first time in ten years that Bob hasn't run in the marathon, so although he got to see the lead runners for once, we could tell he missed it. I think he and David are already making their training plans for next year!

And just for fun, here's Mayor Mike Bloomberg's limousine. Bloomberg is behind the second windshield, so you can't really see him. A bit of campaigning, perhaps? The mayoral election is Tuesday.