He Gets Us, but do we? Standing on the shoulders of Solzhenitsyn, and stealing Canadians cars.
3 Things from the week and a poetic inventory of God.
To quote my sleep-talking youngest brother, “It's all about family!” We're on the road again, taking advantage of the Family Day long weekend.
I have seen the biodome in Montreal now, friends. Step one in my training to live on Mars is now complete!
Thanks for spending part of your weekend with Things I Wrote Down. Hug a loved one!
1. Do we get us?
Wow wow wow wow wow. So much to unpack and discuss about the He Gets Us campaign and their new Super Bowl commercial. (I’ve been watching with express interest because a friend that I admire is working on the project).
From a marketing standpoint, what a win! There has been so much discussion and talk. If you hold to the “no press is bad press” mentality, you’re doing backflips right now.
But what about the theology? What about the politics?
Did they expect to tick everybody off?
From thoughtful op-eds in the New York Times, to scathing call outs on Twitter from people like Matt Walsh, the criticism has rained down like brimstone from the political left (eg. Vox) and right (eg. the satirical Babylon Bee’s Satan: He Gets Us - which was pretty funny). There’s been no shortage of commentary and“this is the ad you shoulda made” videos that went viral, like this:
What a fascinating conversation for our time! One thing it did was introduce me to the work of Julia Fullerton-Batten, the photographer commissioned for the campaign. And, it made me wonder, “Do we get us?”
Thank God Jesus does, and gave his life anyway!
What did you think of the ad campaign? I'd love to hear your take!
2. Standing on the shoulders of Solzhenitsyn
writes a powerful piece about the brave stance and courageous example of Alexi Navalny, the dissident who died this week in a Russian gulag. She traces his courage back to Solzhenitsyn who still serves as an example of speaking truth and weilding art as a weapon against the tyranny of lies.
If you've seen his name all over the news and want insight into the real stakes, this is the place to start.
3. Stealing cars in Canada
Whether you're a real estate agent trying to get to showings or the Justice Minister himself, apparently your car isn't safe in Canada. Did you know 90,000 cars are stolen in Canada each year and it's a billion crime racket?
Um, what?
This woman's Range Rover was stolen thrice and then they got her rental Jaguar.
Where there's no will to go after criminals, then there's a way! Perhaps the sudden signals that the government will crack down on auto theft has to do with the fact that our Justice Minister has also had his government-issued wheels stolen three times as well.
Besides the price tag, I have yet another reason to buy decades-old (or older 😂) vehicles.
An inventory of God - poem
Ever feel like there’s just a hole in the bucket and there’s not much to fill it with, dear Liza?
Yeah. That was a big part of my week.
I was reminded of the short conceit from my poem an inventory of God: “overcome / by will / willing.”
It profoundly helped.
So, I’m sharing the poem this week and hope it blesses you.
(an) inventory of God
nubile silence
knowing
breath of life
bringing shape
to the void
first sound
to reach across
the barrier of
silence
enter the world
pulling
man
from rich
seedbed of
clay
that first
smile of delight
floral arch
of time
eternity of
fellowship plus one
satisfaction
from good work
two
breath
stopping
kick
of sin
world deflated
old
first soul burnt
feeling
storm cloud
darkness
covering
sun bright world
heaven not quite
home
betwixt
between
sensations of
longing, anxiety
incarnation
confines of
a body a
mind
separation
light blind
world
dark and heaving
loneliness
human womb
passage
to cold unquiet
earth
first cry of helplessness
heart racing
touch
love at woman’s
breast man’s
whispered song
great risk of
divine plan
heaven ready
teeth on edge
wind burnt
face of time
first great feat
since history
unnoticed
forgotten
in muck a muck
business of man
clear voiced
breath of life
hidden behind
textures of
regional accent
crow’s feet pinching
eyes
travel weary companions
laughter like first
Adam walking in
cool of day
unknown mirth
songs
midnight fire
in the garden
displaced by
generations
of waiting,
wanting
wrestling with God
unable, like Jacob,
to hold on for blessing
overcome by
will
willing
slow motion
watchfulness
time curled and
bent
with age
heaven coaxing
hell screaming
earth urging on
confusion over
allegiance to place
pushed beyond
pain
lung tearing shout
three black
days of
hell foaming
darkness
nameless
separate
unknown
brand hot
scar of
sin
torment of
each human
name
whispered
prayer
stinging
false concept
of God
poured over
wound
soul bursting
thrust of
hope
thrown through
tomb
of earth
shell of death
discarded
heart pounding
return
life shattering
cry of
victory
silence knowing
breath of life
abiding
thoughts and
woven strands
of mystery
leaning against
the threshold
of earth
waiting