I happened to be driving.

On the 80 today, the driver of a white pickup truck gave me the finger as he passed. I wish I meant a thumbs up, but obviously I don't.

I assume that he did so because of the bumper stickers adhered to the back of my car. 

They express a lot of opinions in a kind of similar wheelhouse, I think, being that that wheelhouse is mine. 

Mostly they have to do with love, I think.

And so it always surprises me when people respond the way that this man has. This is not the first time this has happened, and likely won't be the last. 

I'm lucky (I was going to say he is lucky, but, truly, I am lucky) that this happened while I was listening to an old On Being episode in which Krista is interviewing Mary Oliver. You know, the poet? I've gushed about her work before. 

She was telling me about poetry being a "life-cherishing force" and, because of that, I am responding to his action with this, instead of anything rude or hateful in return.

Right before he passed me, she had just read "I Happened to be Standing", a poem in which she notices the sounds of prayer in the wild. And so I am going to cherish life today and focus not on him, in particular, ever again, but rather listen to prayer in the wild and pray in my natural habitat.

Because that's what Mary Oliver would have me do. Mary Oliver would not have me hold any number of fingers in the air, unless they are holding a pen.

A Thank You Note to Lin-Manuel Miranda

Dear Lin-Manuel Miranda,

It seems absurd to send words to you. Whichever words I choose and whatever order I put them in, you could do it better, I'm sure of it. To me, words are everything. Sir, your words are everything.

Moments ago, I finished listening to the NPR stream of Hamilton and I am convinced for the second time that you've written a musical meant to change me. I first heard In the Heights several years ago and I last heard In the Heights sometime last week. When I sing along with it, I sing every part (of course not the harmonies all at once, that'd be magic) because the layers of words and notes and rhymes and themes are just too intricate to discriminate against. I cannot adequately express this.

This evening, as I sat down to experience Hamilton, I could hardly contain myself. My brain, accustomed to your sounds, tried to sing along, tried to anticipate, tried to hear Usnavi in the chorus. And did, to the extent that to hear Usnavi in the chorus is to hear Lin-Manuel Miranda in the chorus.

Each time I heard a character's motif come through, in song after song, I said, "damn!" out loud, so impressed by your incredible skill. Not surprised in any sense--if you cannot already tell, I revere you, deeply--but as line after line wove itself into this hip-hop history lesson I threw up my hands. Each lilting syllable, each syncopated storyline...I'm laughing at myself because I can't even put together a sentence to try to explain to you how much I love your ability to put together sentences!

I suppose at some point in a thank you note it is customary to say thank you. Thank you for teaching me. Thank you for getting under my skin and into my lungs, rattling my bones and making me feel inexplicably human in this music. Thank you for showing this Californian how the city of New York has crossed time and space to be the place all these people call home. Thank you for giving such large pieces of yourself in these performances. Thank you for writing. Thank you.

xo Case

Two Alexes Are Better Than One Alex -- A&A 10/4/14

I officiated the wedding of my brother (Alex) and my now brother-in-law (Alexander) earlier this month. These are the words I preached about what their union could be like.

 Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

 Much to my chagrin, today (like each day before it) is not about me. Today is about a God who has blessed two giant families with two wonderful men named Alex. And as our main man Ecclesiastes has just proclaimed, two Alexes are better than one Alex.

And Hafiz, who, in the 14th century, wrote the poem that Aunt Jackie read, knew that your union could be like this.

Alex and Alexander, you chose this poem, I believe, because of its extraordinariness and ordinariness. In the poem, Hafiz explains, “You felt cold, so I…” and “A hunger comes into your body, so I…” and “You ask for a few words of comfort and guidance, so I…” Hafiz responds to the needs of his partner, as you are promising to do. Here, you have recognized that this wonderful celebration (while the end of a year of planning and anticipating) is in fact the beginning of a lifetime of regular old togetherness. You will go through the ordinary and extraordinary experiences of life, now, together. You will make ordinary experiences into extraordinary ones, by your togetherness.

The Ecclesiastes reading dealt in twos—two Alexes are better than one Alex. If one falls, the other catches. If one is cold, the other warms. If one feels weak, the other strengthens. But then the last line suddenly mentions that a threefold cord is not quickly broken. It’s like, thanks for the advice, Eagle Scout, but what does that have to do with anything? It turns out that the relevant information in this passage is not just that two Alexes are better than one Alex, but that there’s even a third ply at play. Congratulations, y’all—it’s you.

Earlier in this very ceremony, you, the third ply, agreed to “support and care for them, sustain and pray for them, give thanks with them, honor the bonds of their promise, and affirm the love of God reflected in their life together.” You promised that. Thank you.

We’re gathered here today as people of a variety of faiths, cultures, and political persuasions. And we’re gathered here today because Alex and Alexander are our beloved brothers, sons, cousins, nephews, friends, colleagues, classmates, comrades. We’re gathered here because we believe—or are coming to believe—that this marriage is about love and commitment and joy, and that this union does nothing to threaten anyone. The only thing this marriage threatens to do is celebrate in the midst of those who would tear it down.

Because while we—all of us present today and all those who will be present later this month in Sterling Heights—are that threefold cord, we find the strength to be so because God, too, is with us.

For me as a Christian, the most important words I ever preach are, of course, the greatest commandment Jesus ever preached—love one another. That’s what we’re here to do today. We’re not here to do anything if not to celebrate love and multiply love. This is radical and this is exponential.

Like you promised, when you support and care for Alex and Alexander in the coming years—as you have always done—that will radiate. When you pray for them—as you have always done—that will radiate. When you give thanks with them—as you have always done—that will radiate. When you honor the bonds of their promise, and uphold yours, that will radiate. When you affirm that love of God reflected in their life together—the love of God will radiate.

When I look at your faces, Alex and Alex, my dear ones, the love of God radiates. 


Thanks be to God! Amen!