The Devil's Disciple

Last night I watched a BBC production of George Bernard Shaw's The Devil's Disciple. It's a story about Richard, a young man in 1777 New England, who advertises himself as "The Devil's Disciple," having rejected the grimly proper and abusive-to-children Christianity he endured growing up. However one night he is mistaken by the village pastor by invading British troops and allows himself to be taken in the other man's place, knowing he will be hanged -- much to the consternation of the pastor's beautiful young wife who had vehemently rejected him as a wicked man.

The production could have been better. Despite the fine actors in the cast (including Patrick Stewart as the pastor), the director pushed the uptight nature of the village society and the British officers a bit too far in most scenes, and everything and everyone was far too tidy and clean. Still, Shaw is Shaw, and overall it was a pleasant way to spend two hours.

Crucifix

Growing up Protestant, crucifixes weren't a significant part of my iconography. As an adult who has rejected the theology of the necessity of Christ dying to atone for the sins of humanity and the idea that God required the death of his son (or anyone), I have had even less interest in them.

But yesterday afternoon I was browsing the online catalog of The Museum Company store and found this image, called the Crucifix of Athlone, from Ireland's County Roscommon, AD 800:



I was mesmerized.
I went back to the site three times.
Then I ordered one for myself.

Maybe its the Celtic spirals adorning and in some way exposing both the visceral reality and the eternal mystery of the body of Yeshua/Christ. Maybe its the stylized formality that jolts me back into an older, more primitive connection with the idea of voluntary sacrifice as part of spirituality, something I can't even put words to but which thrums in my gut.

There's something very deep here, something ancient and startling, the likes of which I have not encountered in a very long time. I am reminded of Aslan telling Lucy and Susan about the "deeper magic from before the dawn of time." Whatever it is that fascinates me here, it's not something I remember feeling during my orthodox (small "o") Christian days.

I don't have words for it now -- but I think this crucifix and I are going to have interesting conversations in the days to come.


[The listing for the piece, with background text, is here: http://museumstorecompany.com/product_info.php?products_id=1912 ]

Project

I'm feeling just a bit intimidated by the project I'm managing at work.
It doesn't help that all the leaders around me have faith in me and are offering all kinds of support.
It's big, it's complex, and some of the most significant participants are expensive outside consultants I don't have personal relationships with.

I'm entirely capable of doing this, and doing it well.
But I never feel that way sitting at my desk.

[ETA: I'm going to take the affirmation above and post it on my monitor, so I remember it.]

I don't like feeling intimidated by something that's within my capabilities.


This afternoon we had our quarterly division meeting.
My project was listed as one of the top three major initiatives for my group.

If when I bring this to a successful conclusion, it will be a very big, very public win for me and a major boost to my career at this company.

Time to put on my kick-ass-and-take-names boots.