1. Fear
There
are three types of fearing God: doing right out the fear of punishment, out of
the fear of losing reward, and out of the fear of broken relationship. The
closer you are to God, the less you will do right out of the motivation of the
fear punishment or of loss of reward. When what you value most is the
relationship, the more you will seek to do right out of the fear of breaking
that relationship because of sin.
Fear
of Punishment: “Dear God, don’t let me go there. Amen.”
Fire
insurance. That is what being a Christian was for me at age 8. I liked Jesus,
God, and all of the stories, but the push over the edge was hell. I will be
honest: I lay in bed, scared out of my wits that I didn’t do it right. I
re-prayed the sinner’s prayer every night, just in case I didn’t wake up.
Because it didn’t hurt to make sure. And it would hurt if I’d messed up.
“No one likes the idea of hell.” My
pastor said, “I mean, who sits around
going ‘hell—yeah, that is my kind of idea!’ Maybe some sickos, but that is
something else. If it were about picking and choosing what we wanted from the
Bible, we wouldn’t throw out “God loves you” and keep the idea of hell. I
wouldn’t.”
Most
of my theological discussions, including those about hell, involve references
to the Narnia book series or
something C.S. Lewis wrote, like “The Great Divorce.” He doesn’t say it is
truth, he just says it is a story of how it might be. Of how he is trying to
wrap his head around things. And I want it. I want it to be right so badly. “I don’t think it is true.” My sister
told me, “They are beautiful ideas and it
made me, for the first time, stop and really think that maybe everything could
be ok. But I don’t think that is what the Bible is talking about.”
To
which I politely thought “Shit.” And I don’t think dirty words often. I don’t
like them. Out loud I said “That is
really honest. I don’t think I am ready to be that honest yet.” I didn’t want
to travel my thoughts about hell down the rabbit hole. Because it is dark down
there. I like forgetting how much I don’t know about everything. Because once I
think about it I come to some conclusion and you are accountable for your
conclusions.
A
current theological hot spot is what you think about hell, and how that fits in
with a loving God. Rob Bell brought the discussion out of the closet with his
book “Love Wins.” I don’t think he got everything right. I don’t think C. S.
Lewis did either. And I know I don’t have it all right. But we are
looking. I can’t explain away all the
references to hell the way Rob Bell did, just like I couldn’t with
homosexuality. Trust me, I tried. And while I think very differently about
homosexuality today than I did in the past, I still know that it is wrong. I
just don’t have all the answers. And that doesn’t make me happy.
Fear
of Loss of Reward: Is it worth it?
Growing
up, I realized if Christianity was just about heaven and hell it wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t feeling suicidal, so I still had this life to deal with. If
Christianity didn’t work now, I wasn’t ready to step out and believe it would
work after death. On the garage, A friend and I graffited the question “Is
there life before death?” I am a child of my generation with an uncanny ability
to piece together what makes sense into a web of semi-solid information that I
feel comfortable living with, but is that enough when it comes to eternity?
“Our
eschatology shapes our ethics. Eschatology is about last things. Ethics are
about how you live. What you believe about the future shapes, informs, and
determines how you live now…so when people ask: “What will we do in heaven?”
one possible answer is to simply ask: “What do you love to do now that will go
on in the world to come?” What makes you think “I could do this forever?” What
is it that makes you think, “I was made for this?” Imagine being a racist in
heaven-on-earth, sitting down at the great feast and realizing that you’re
sitting next to THEM. THOSE people. The ones you’ve despised for years. Your
racist attitude would simply not survive…Paul makes it very clear that we will
have our true selves revealed and that once the sins and habits and bigotry and
pride and petty jealousies are prohibited and removed, for some there simply
won’t be much left. Jesus is interested in our hearts being transformed, so
that we can actually handle heaven.” –Rob Bell
Some
people use hell to scare people. They must not think church is worth it without
the fire and brimstone. Some people use the idea of no hell to think they can
do whatever they want. That is no better. Trying to evade responsibility isn’t
going to help you in this life or the next, whether you add the label
“Christian” or not. I know life is better with Jesus, now and forever. I know
this because of my own life. So I want everyone I love to know Jesus. Because I
want them to have a better life, with a hope and a future. Not because of hell.
Fear
of Breaking Relationship: “Your love is
better than life.” Psalm 63:3
Rob
Bell discusses when someone commented that Gandhi was in hell: “Somebody knows this? Without a doubt? And
that somebody decided to take on the responsibility of letting the rest of us
know?” Were his questions. Is Gandhi in hell? I don’t know. I don’t know
Gandhi. What sends someone to hell? What sends someone to heaven? Are there
certain words that need to be prayed to be saved? How do you know they meant it
for real? That they believed it?
What
about a chance to accept Jesus after people die? Like in The Last Battle and they enter through the door and look Aslan in
the face? Great idea, I think. True? I don’t know. It doesn’t say it in the
Bible. What about more than one chance? Like in The Great Divorce where they could go at any time to heaven from
hell, riding a bus? Great idea, I think. True? I don’t know. It doesn’t say it
in the Bible.
Once
I asked God why he wouldn’t show me more than six months of my life at a time.
He said because then I wouldn’t have to trust him. He is right. I wouldn’t. I would get started
on my life like a “To do” post-it note list. Maybe all of these things about
the afterlife aren’t written in the Bible because God knew that then we
wouldn’t find how great He was while we were here on earth. I don’t know. For
some reason, He left out A LOT of stuff. Stuff that worries me. Stuff that
makes me trust Him instead of being able to write out my beliefs in bullet
point form.
“Religions
should not surprise us. We crave meaning and order and explanation. We’re
desperate for connection with something or somebody greater than ourselves.
This has not caught Jesus off guard. Jesus insisted in the midst of this
massive array of belief and practice that God was doing something new in human
history, something through him, something that involved everybody (John 14:6).” --Rob Bell
Christendom
has given me a vague but general outline of what it means to be saved.
Believing in Jesus, accepting Christ, giving God your life…those are some of
the words I try to describe it as. But really—most of it I have never found
words for. In the end I mostly shrug my shoulders and say it is a personal
relationship with Jesus. Which, when you think about it, sounds absolutely
ridiculous. You know Jesus? God? Creator? HIM? How? When did you talk to Him?
What did he sound like? What did He say? Do you laugh together? Argue? I give
another shrug, and a “yes.”
Boil
down the issue of hell and you come face to face with God. Who is He? Do I have
the right God? Have I warped my image of Him with the same manipulation that I
do in other areas of my life? Is my Jesus just an idol hodge-podge of what is
convenient to me? Of what sounds right? Of what feels right? Can I trust Him?
Yes.
God is big enough not to let me screw it all up. I’ll keep learning. And
probably rewrite this in ten years. When I finally got up the courage to
question God, I hurled all my questions to a big black starless sky. I yelled
really loudly. I scared the neighbors. He didn’t answer a single one. But at
the end of the night, I knew He loved me.
I
sat inside my bedroom, curled up behind the door with tears falling. A close
friend had just committed suicide. Why? I asked God. No answer, but I knew He
was crying too. He loved her more than I did. And from those and other
experiences, I figured I didn’t know the answers, but if God loved me, and if
He loved everyone else as much as He loved me, then the rest could be figured
out later.
I
believe there is a hell. I wish I didn’t. I believe there is a lot about hell I
don’t know. I also know that God is just. And each person will be judged,
punished, and rewarded. Justly. Perfectly. The exact right amount. The exact
right amount of time. Yeah, that is scary. And not just for people who don’t
call themselves Christians. For all of us. I want the people I love—and that
should be everyone—to be happy. It is my default position. And I know the way
they can be happiest is with Jesus. So I tell them about Jesus. Because it
works. Now. Later. In between.
2. Frankenstein
“Don’t reinvent the wheel, just realign
it.” –Anthony D’Angelo
Great thinkers throughout
time have put forth a lot of effort to produce their utopias. I take the
Frankenstein approach—a little from here, a little from there—to create my new
monster.
For a utopia, outwardly,
everyone’s needs must be met, and inwardly, it must be realized that those
needs are being met. Repression (dealing with the balance of freedom and
equality) and human nature (so the inner change can be realized and actualized)
are important parts of making this change or leap into utopia. It only takes
one thing out of place or in disharmony, and utopia has turned into dystopia. Either
people are somehow transformed to not be able to be imperfect (or create
dystopia), or they continue in imperfection, and the disharmony/imperfection is
somehow repressed/controlled.
I don’t think we will ever
achieve the “desire-less” human nature, so my utopia would have a uniting drive
in human nature (a positive objective), and use repression as a personal,
sacrificial decision made to balance freedom and equality. A willingness to
repress some of my own individuality may be needed to maintain the change
toward utopia. Since each person’s utopia looks different, if my utopia
involves working because it brings me pleasure, and for John Doe it does not
involve work because work is enslavement, a collective utopia would, in some
form, involve repression to some extent, since our ideas are incompatible. This
“giving in” of some of my personal freedom is what creates the balance of
freedom and common good for all.
We should never
underestimate the creativity of human nature: when one set of problems are
removed, we are sure to find another. Utopia is a continual work. Where we
should be moving up Maslow’ hierarchy of needs, we instead create a new bottom
level once we have climbed up the previous one. My utopia builds upon what is learned from the
real life example of the utopian project of the Kibbutz.
Spiro points out three
things that happened to create something different (collectivism) that lead to
the beginning of the kibbutz and utopian living: distance from the past,
powerful unifying experiences, and a strong belief system.
My utopia is distanced
through time (set in the future, not too close yet not too far), and is a
non-violent progression. Not all rebellions or revolutions need to involve
violence: perhaps just a (violent) change in consciousness. Marcuse’s idea
(1967) was that to break with present realities and move toward utopia requires
“the simple refusal to take part in the blessings of the “affluent society.”
Refusing the affluence
that could easily be theirs led to positive change. Looking at great men and
women who made a difference in history, there is a commonality among them: they
turned down, or repressed their personal desires for many other things. They
were focused, driven, and would not be distracted by other options to complete
their goals. This is what it would take to create my utopia.
“If it is the future you seek, then I tell you that
you must come to it with empty hands. You must come to it alone, and naked, as
a child comes into the world, into his future, without any past, without any
property, wholly dependent on other people for his life. You cannot take what
you have not given, and you must give yourself. You cannot buy the revolution.
You cannot make the revolution. You can only be the revolution. It is in your
spirit, or it is nowhere.” (LeGuin,
1974, p.301)
The second point made in
the study of the Kibbutzim was that they were united by experiences together. It
is very rare for more than one generation to have the same driving force (as
circumstances change, and the people themselves change) which is why very few
utopias can last more than one generation.
I do not expect my utopia
to continue, for their children will need to take into their own hands their
future and the kind of utopia it becomes. By definition, an education in a
utopia must create this. By letting go, I release them to have the power to
succeed or fail, while hoping to God they fare well, and learn from any
mistakes along the way.
While fear is a very
powerful uniting experience, and useful in creating utopias (for example, the
graphic novel, Watchman), it is not the basis that I want driving my utopia.
Suffering is also a powerful unifying experience, bringing us together in a
much deeper unity than fear—fear is grasping at straws, whereas suffering
together creates a brotherhood that is difficult to break. But I would not wish
suffering on anyone for a utopia, even if it brings about good results.
“It is our
suffering that brings us together. It is not love. Love does not obey the mind,
and turns to hate when forced. The bond that binds us is beyond choice. We are
brothers. In pain, which each of us must suffer alone, in hunger, in poverty, I
hope, we know our brotherhood. You have nothing, you possess nothing, you own
nothing. You are free. All you have is what you are and what you give.” (LeGuin, 2003, p. 300)
Suffering as a motive is
very closely related to brotherhood, a “twin” of what will be my utopia’s
driving force. Brotherhood is the most well-known and common driving force for
utopias—it was foundational in the beginning of our own nation. It is the
picture of moving forward, hand-in-hand, toward a utopia.
In the article on the
Kibbutz, it describes brotherhood as passion for community, or “Communitas.”
Communitas produces this passion, and is "an emotionally powerful social experience consisting of primordial and
reciprocal identifications among the members of a small social group…A
family-type community, between twelve and seventeen young men and women would
sit together every evening after work...and exchange impressions and
opinions...longing of each for his neighbor, a desire to sit together until
late at night." (Spiro, 2004, p. 564-5) This is what I want in my
utopia.
But brotherhood alone
often forgets the personal sacrifice required to make any community, let alone
a utopia, work. Therefore, in my utopia, the “twin” of brotherhood is
motherhood. The picture for this driving force is of a mother carrying her
child into utopia. The suffering component comes in the sacrifice that is given
for the betterment of the next generation.
This final part noted in
the Kibbutz article is the “how” of the day-to-day running a utopia. http://www.lovolution.net/MainPages/artWorks/DesignUtopia/DesignUtopia.htm
has a great list of questions to ask if you would like to create your own
utopia, including the basic structure, goals and values, education, politics,
relationships, religion, and jails.
While smaller utopias are
easier, for it to be a true utopia, I believe it has to be for everyone. My
utopia would be global, for how can you call someone your brother if you allow
for one to receive benefits, and the next one not to. The basic physical
structure of my utopia is similar to the garden-like state of Herland, which
was carefully cultivated with lots of fruit trees and nuts growing everywhere,
making the best use of the space. They were vegetarian because it made the best
use of what they had, but I will not force my ideas on everyone, anyone is free
to have meat—as long as they raise it themselves, taking complete
responsibility from start to finish.
The duty of each member
within this utopia is to pull their own share. This does not mean that each
person is required to produce the same amount, but that each gives the full
amount of effort. This takes the pressure off performance and doing and allows
one to focus on character and being. “The
worker is not a citizen because he works, but works because he is a citizen.”
(Bellamy, 2003, p.122).
The goal is utopia—the
perfect place for everyone. Hopefully everyone has bought into this goal. If
not, and it gets really bad, you can skip to the “jail” section to see what
happens. The values already noted are motherhood and brotherhood, but
specifically, integrity (being
real and trustworthy), commitment
(diligent, consistent, finishing what you start), kindness (compassion, putting others first, helping, friendly), excellence (doing your best no matter
who is looking or how “small” the job), being passionate (know what you want and go after it), curiosity (desire to learn and know
more), and generosity (using
money/ time wisely to give it away wisely).
The amount of children a
family had would not be limited by rules in my utopia, because (hopefully)
through the education each individual would take responsibility for the
children they bore. Children would go into the woods and learn naturally, at
home they would “See books lying about,
manage to read by the time they are four years old” (Morris, 2004, p.25),
and pick up languages naturally from their foreign peers. This is idealistic,
but I like the more natural approach.
I also liked the idea of
education divided into ages, by Robert Owen in “The Book of the New Moral
World.” He has 0-5 year olds getting good food and “ training to think, speak,
and act rationally,” 5-10 year olds in “exercises that consist in that which
will be permanently useful…characters formed physically, intellectually, morally,
and practically.” From 10-15, 10-12 year olds are helping the younger class,
and 13-15 year olds are “engaged in acquiring a knowledge of principles and
practices of the more advanced useful arts of life…to produce, prepare, and
execute whatever society requires.”
By 15-20, they can tell
what each person is best at/likes to do, and so it is “training and educating
to have all his faculties and powers cultivated.” From 20-25, is “the highest
and most experienced class of producers and instructors.” After 25 years of
age, they only work if they want to. From 25-30 they are basically just
preserving the work, and then doing what they find enjoyable to do.
From ages 30-40, they
“govern the home department, and 40-60 year olds are in charge of external or
foreign arrangements…attending to visitors from other
establishments…circumscribe the world in their travels.” (Utopia Reader, 1999,
p. 207-219) Owen tried out his experiment in the New Harmony community in
Indiana. This is lifelong learning and responsibility, which are two very
important pieces of my utopia.
One utopia I read had a
progression from capitalism into socialism. Socialism in history has not
worked, often because it does not reward responsibility or character, and those
lessons from history must be dually noted and brought into the equation, but I
like the idea in general.
In Looking Backward, the
work is done by whoever wants to do it. If there is a job that no one wants to
do, then fewer hours are needed. They make all jobs equally attractive by
increasing/decreasing the hours and benefits. For example, if everyone wanted
to be a doctor, then the normal doctor working day would be 8 hours. But if no
one wanted to be a lawyer, then you would only need to work 4 hours a day at
the lawyer job, making it more desirable.
Jobs are like serving in
the military: everyone does it from 21-45. From 21-24 they do the “common
labor,” first of all, to get the experience, and second of all, because someone
has to do it. This teaches them discipline, and then between 24-30 they can
specialize if they would like to, finishing up when they are 45, and then only
working if they chose to, or for the good of the community.
Technology makes sure to
consider environment and lasting effects of the decisions made in science and
technology. For example, Red Mars has the situation where the longevity
“treatment” is available, but only to a few. Any technology must be beneficial
and available for all. If the utopian world cannot sustain everyone having it,
then they should not introduce it, for it creates disunity. This would be a
question of the “few” repressing, or sacrificing their ability/freedom for the
sake of equality and community.
Most utopias are
anti-marriage because marriage is exclusive and into the realm of “mine” and
“not mine.” Part of what makes love as powerful as it is, is the exclusivity
that it holds. Hopefully the value of commitment would hold together
relationships during difficulties where it often seems easier to just leave,
rather than having a complex set of rules.
Religion in the utopia is
what pragmatically works, and thus freely chosen. There is still the question
of what to do with those who just won’t listen—the real proof in any utopia is
in how they treat the resistors. Instead of jail, In my utopia, the focus is
rehabilitation balanced with restitution, where they need to make right what
they did wrong, working with the community to come to the conclusion of rehabilitation
naturally. Taking personal responsibility is part of the education of anyone,
criminal or not. This takes a lot more work, but brings about the most amount
of closure. If this help is refused, then isolation for the protection of the
general populous might be a last resort. How depressing to include that in an
utopia.
Utopia requires an outward
and inward change from the present—happening simultaneously—balancing personal
freedom and equality as they distance themselves from the past, are united in
motherhood/brotherhood, and find pragmatic solutions. Like Frankenstein, this
utopia is unpolished and contains many gaps, but is full of heart, desire, and
hope for something better. “But I, being
poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread
softly because you tread on my dreams.” –W.B.Yeats
3.
God-Sized Whole
You
have a God-hole inside you. This capacity that is so beautiful and deep that it
makes me cry to think it isn’t being used. I shouldn’t play favorites, but I
have. And you are mine. Many of my arguments with God have been about you. Why
couldn’t He touch you and make everything fit? And I was mad at you too. Why
can’t you just turn and look on His beautiful face? Lay it all down and walk
away. Walk away and into the Greatness.
I
don’t know what is going on in your life. But I know that when things click
with you and God, everyone will see it. The blast will shoot out in all
directions and people will stop and look at the light and wonder. And I will
see you glow in His brilliance and in His glory. I will see His face shine out
from your eyes. I don’t know how this will happen, but I know it won’t be
because of me. And though I would gladly spend my whole life trying, there are
some places that only you and God can tread, and I am left behind.
I
made many deals with God…that I would never question Him as long as He promised
that one day you see. But God doesn’t make deals. Sometimes He is the most
silent on the things that are closest to our hearts. But I know that one day, I
will hear from a friend of a friend a story about you. And I will know it has
happened. And I will be happy.
I
asked God how He could let me love you so deeply, when He knew we couldn’t be
together. He said that love was never wasted. Maybe all of my love for you was
nothing more than to show you a little bit of how much God loves you. I haven’t
been a very faithful reflection of God’s love, but I know you have seen pieces
of Him through me, and I pray you will see more and more of Him until the
memory of me is shattered and all that is left is Him and His consuming love for
you.
4.
Homosexuality
I
was 12 years old, sitting in the back of the church van when I overheard the
conversation: ”Well, you know they are
gay—and I don’t mean happy.” Something hit my heart and I realized there
was a world that I didn’t know existed. My knowledge of homosexuality grew over
the next couple of years, mostly through conversations overheard, and
mean-spirited jokes. Then the rumor that a neighbor was gay. A friend of a
friend. Then my friend.
I
was thrown into confusion. What should I do? What was my responsibility? How
could I help? I just wanted to give him a hug and let him let it out. While I
listened to a friend share her struggle, thoughts scrambled around my head:
“How could this be? How did she allow this to get like it is? It is wrong—I
need to say it is wrong! But she know, she knows.” But as I sat and listened,
those thoughts got more distant.
I
struggled in myself. I saw the pain so strongly. I saw the attempts to do
better and the condemning failure and guilt that permanently crippled. I
wrestled with questions like “When does the person go from being tempted with
homosexual thoughts, to being gay? When does the liar stop being a liar? When
he stops lying? So do you stop being gay when you stop gay-ing? Or what about
the prostitute? Is she no longer a prostitute when her shift ends? Or when she
gets a new job?”
I
studied all the Bible verses. I tried to explain them away. I fought with God.
In the people I knew, homosexuality was not something they chose. They did not
sit down and say “I want to be attracted to the same sex.” On the contrary. It
was something they constantly fought and tried to get away from. One friend
finally stopped fighting. Then I had more questions “If you say you are gay,
does that mean you have given up? You are not going to struggle anymore? You
are embracing your sin and saying that that is who you are? Your identity?”
That
friend looked me in the eye and said “Do
you think I want this? This…thing that that makes me hide who I am from those I
love the most? Do you think I would choose something everyone hates—for the
heck of it? No, I am doing the best I can with what I have been given.”
It
came down to the question of do I believe that God permits temptations/sins
that cannot be
overcome?
Can I look someone in the face, someone who says they are gay and has gone
through more pain and trouble and confusion and struggle than I can imagine,
and say that God won't allow sin that cannot be defeated? I don’t know. But I
can tell them they can be forgiven and made new. Clean. And for that moment,
that is enough.
Really,
I was asking God “Who are you?” I wanted to know Him and I wanted to know that
He was good. And that no one is doomed. That somewhere, there is always a
chance. That there is always an option not to sin. Somewhere. At one church
service I finally heard something that helped. And the pastor didn’t quote
Judges. Or Exodus, or 1 Corinthians. He simply said “Jesus wasn’t afraid to forgive the prostitute. He also wasn’t afraid to
tell her to go and sin no more.” That’s where it’s at.
My
friends know what is right and wrong. It doesn’t need to be stated again. But
what needs to be remembered is that hope is there, because forgiveness is
always there, and is always beautiful. And Someone willing to forgive all the
time also gains the power to say what is wrong and needs to be forgiven.
And
it doesn’t make the struggle go away. Maybe one day it will, but maybe it
won’t. And maybe one day I will understand it more, and maybe I won’t. But I am
learning. And I love my friends—gay and straight. All of them. I have my
struggles and they have theirs. And we still love each other. Because the Bible
tells me so.
I
don’t want my little brother to learn about homosexuality through crass jokes
made by the boys behind the church. I don’t want him to be one of those making
the jokes. I want him to be the one who reaches out to the new boy with the
pink shirt. And the one who reaches out to the one with the blue shirt. I want
him to know that God forgives, and God loves. I want him to know that “Jesus wasn’t afraid to forgive the
prostitute. He also wasn’t afraid to tell her to go and sin no more.”
I
want him to know that it is okay to not have all the answers and to not
understand everything, but to trust that God is still good. I want him to have
gay friends and straight friends and lying friends and stealing friends and
friends that sleep around—because that is life, and you cannot hide from it.
But I also want him to know God and be broken by the sin and the pain, in his
own life and in those around him and desire to be clean and forgiven and to be
transformed into the image of Christ. I want him to know that Jesus is the only
answer for him, those struggling with homosexuality, and for the world.
5.
67% Normal
“You
are 67% normal” says the Facebook test.
Apparently, not everyone agrees with me that life as we know it would be
better with ice cream. I laugh when I
say this now, but it wasn’t always like that. I used to want to score 100.
There was a way that things were supposed to be done, and I was going to follow
that plan. And then God laughed.
Most
of us have heard of “the plan:” Go to school. Get good grades. Turn 18. Go to
college and four years later graduate and feel really good about it being over.
It didn’t work that way for me. In fact, it didn’t work that way for most of
us. Life happens. You learn things. The plan changes. Whoopi Goldberg said, “Normal is nothing more than a cycle on the
washing machine.”
After
nine years, five different colleges in two different countries, with various
credits in various subjects all over the board, I went to IUPUI to finish. To
write a new definition of normal that fit me. A finisher. An achiever of my
objectives. A definition that says it is normal for me to attain my goals and
celebrate a job well done.
Like
all good lessons in life, they are meant to be applied liberally and eaten with
ice cream. My journey required learning that being 67% normal was just a
number, and that I was in charge of writing my own definition of normal. The
challenge for us all is to take the definitions we have written about
ourselves, about what our normal is, and bring it into the world with us.
Someone
told me that if it is worth doing, it is worth celebrating. We have done it,
and so now let us celebrate. Life doesn’t always give us opportunities to stop
and enjoy what we have done—it is a decision we have to make to take the time
to do. But right now we have our moment with Pomp and Circumstance. Remember
it, treasure it, repeat it. Often.
6.
Colors
Every time I
go to Living Stones I feel like I need just as long afterwards to process
everything. Or at least write something down. I am getting used to life in
Brazil with a boyfriend in the USA. It isn’t like I’ve ever tried to portray
myself as a desperate single girl, but you should see the way most of the
people I know congratulate me. You would think I won the lottery rather than
got a boyfriend from their smiles, hugs, and words. It is sweet.
It is
interesting to see how the kids respond. For as much as Brazil says it isn’t
racist, there is still some thoughts and feelings there. I can feel them. But
they haven’t learned how to hide anything in Cajueiro Claro. When I showed them
his picture today, someone said, “Why is he so black?” to which the other kid
said, “He is the same color as you.”
Edivaldo,
the darkest boy, didn’t say anything but gave me an extra hug when we were
done. It said something. Something like “hmmm, maybe you really do love us.”
Funny how sometimes I feel they still doubt it sometimes. Funny the things that
prove my love. Something like “you picked him when you could have picked any
color you wanted. Maybe you really do love my color too.” I do.
How is color
such a big deal? Take away the right and wrong of it, and just wonder…how? I
understand how beauty and ugly is. Even though I still feel guilty when I
notice myself pulling towards the beautiful and away from the ugly. Karine
said, “Rachel, if he were fat and white you wouldn’t have dated him.” And this.
Is. Probably. true.
*
When did we start calling people colors instead of
Nationalities? I am "Proud to be an American," and I know many people
have worked long and hard to be called that, but isn't it just lazy? What about
where you came from before (except Native Americans)?
Call me German, not white. And if you must call me
a color, get a paint swatch to figure out what color I am because I've seen
white paper, white shirts, white shoes...and I am not white.
We have forgotten how to be creative. Or
maybe, we have forgotten to figure out who we are. I don't relate to being
German: beer, chocolate, snow, WW1 and WW2--no thank you please. I don't know
much more about Germany than that. And that is a shame. I haven't tried.
I was watching "Lincoln" with my black
boyfriend, thinking, "Man, this is so applicable to us." But he isn't
black--he is Jamaican. He was born in Jamaica. For him, it was a
conscious choice: he came to America when he was 6 and the children laughed at
his accent. So he lost it, and embraced all that was called being American. He
cried when his sisters told him he was still Jamaican. He turned to me in the
movie and said, "This is our history."
He identifies with American culture--he chose
it--whereas I have always looked for a way out. I never have culture shock
leaving the country: but always have counter-culture shock when returning. So
the American-trying-not-to-be and the non-American-trying-to-be find a middle
ground and begin to create their own culture. And don't call it gray.
7.
Silence
“He who doesn’t understand your
silence will probably never understand your words.” Elbert Hubbard
Two hours of silence. As the time inched closer to begin my
experiment, my ears felt they had to consume as much music as possible. Every
song sounded sweeter, as I passed the restaurant, the live music made me pause.
It is like a hunger, before I’ve even started.
My roommate asked me why I
didn’t leave for my experiment. Because I wanted to eat, I told her, and that
would require talking, communicating. And people just don’t get my…ideas when I
explained them. No music, no movies, no interactions, no texting. Why are you
doing this again? My boyfriend asks. Because it was on my bucket list. Because
every once in a while, I still envy those nuns and monks away in their towers
who have mastered silence. Because I want to know I can.
Thirty hours of silence,
one of my goals to do when I am 30. Two hours into it and I laugh (silently)
because I don’t feel like I’ve stopped talking—I sure haven’t stopped in my
head. Song after song is being sung up there. I wonder how many hours until I
am really silent? Is it even possible? I talk to myself a lot. And sing to
myself even more. Now I am whispering/mouthing words as I write. Does that
count? Silence is for listening. I am not listening yet.
Wikipedia says “Silence is the lack of audible sound, the word silence can also refer to any absence
of communication. Silence is also used as total communication, in
reference to non-verbal communication and spiritual connection.”
I make noise when I wake
up, rolling over and stretching. Noise is startling. I am hungry for noise. In
three separate dreams, I spoke and felt the failure: in one was I was sleeping
in the trash dump with the children and watching the worms climb back into my
matrices, another was getting ready to return to Brazil and needing to say
goodbye, and lastly, shopping and having lost my wallet.
I am beginning to wonder
if the voices in my head will ever quit. I’m creative enough, full enough to
keep feeding them for years, without new material. How long until they wind
down? Silence and accomplishment don’t go together. I lay in my bed doing
nothing, hoping my thoughts will dry out and leave me alone. I want silence
within. How long has it been?
Silence is emptying of
sound, thought, activity. Going through your brain and sorting everything into
its place until you stop and say—good, it is time to rest. Silence is a part of
simplicity, a cleansing return to basics, child-likeness. And I yearn for it. I
know my great need for silence, as does God. He made all these rules for the
Sabbath. He led by example by resting on the 7th day—one day of not
creating.
I make lists so I can make
peace with the nagging voices in my head that say I am going to forget
something, I am going to let someone down, I am going to screw something up. I
work hard to be organized to give myself space for the silence of simplicity.
But often I get stopped on my way. I forget the end result and get tied up in
the project. I get overwhelmed without space for silence.
I think a true silent
retreat requires leaving, someplace alone and simple. And includes fasting:
empty of people, food, things. I once put myself into solitary confinement. It
was a point where I was broken, physically, mentally, emotionally. I just
didn’t want to go on until I’d heard from God. It was a small room with a bed,
chair, and bathroom. I brought paper, pencil, Bible, and change of clothes. I
was left completely alone.
First I just slept until I
could sleep no more. Time crept by, only noted by the big window that I sat
next to and watched because it was the only thing to see. I fell into a routine
of sitting, reading, writing, sleeping, praying, and showering. Whenever I got
tired of one thing, I’d do another. It was healing. And I was starving. After a
little less than 3 full days, I went out for food and returned to life.
Sometimes you just need to know when you are broken and need to stop.
Sixteen hours of silence
(including a good nights’ sleep) and I am starting to feel it. My mind slowing
down. Enjoying the silence. Feeling less anxious and forgetting all the things
I should be doing and just being. Silence and simplicity kiss and the whole
world is right again.
“Silence is full of noise…but we have become deaf to
this thundering silence. But still more difficult than getting rid of that
surrounding din is the achievement of inner silence, a silence of the heart
which goes beyond every man. It makes you wonder if the diversion we look for in
the many things outside us might not be an attempt to avoid a confrontation
with what is inside.”
“But whenever you do come upon this silence, it seems
as though you have received a gift. The promise of this silence is that new
life can be born. Then you realize you can do many things, but it isn’t
necessary. It is the silence of the “poor in spirit” where you learn to see
your life in its proper perspectives.”
“Deep silence leads us to suspect that, in the first
place, prayer is acceptance. A man who prays is a man standing with his hands
open to the world. He trusts that the world holds God’s secret within it, and
he expects that secret to be shown to him. Praying means being constantly ready
to let go of your certainty and to move on further than where you now are. This
is why praying demands poverty, that is, the readiness to live a life in which
you have nothing to lose so that you always begin afresh.” Henri Nouwen
I am going to sleep after
27 hours of silence. When I wake up, I will get dressed and begin my day as if
silence never ruled. The awkward hanging up because I can’t answer my phone.
The time I thought something funny and stopped mid-laugh. But I learned what I
wanted to know: I can do silence. I can be comfortable in my own skin. And it
takes a while to detox, but then things seem clearer and more focused, and I
appreciate that. And somehow, silence always seems a little closer to God.
“He who does not know to be
silent will not know how to speak.” Ausonius
8.
Trees
This Easter season I
printed out Ann Voskamp’s “Trail to the Tree” Devotional. It is free on her
site www.aholyexperience.com
and I highly recommend it. I thought it was going to go through the Bible and
point out all the trees until it came to the Good Friday Tree. It didn’t, so I figured
I would, since it was such a good idea.
Trees were created on the
3th day: right after the ground and before the stars. Two trees were
so special they got capital names: one was called “Life” and the other
“Knowledge of Good and Evil” (rather long, but still). These trees had powers
in their fruit. Sounds like the beginning of a good story. Ehh, not so good.
You know what happened.
Then trees were used for
hiding. Hiding from God, hiding from nakedness. Not used for shade, for sustenance,
but for cowardice. Leaves: the first underwear. Wasn’t our finest hour as
humans. And so those two trees were guarded by an angel with a big sword, and
not for us. But not forever: the tree of life returns…in heaven (Rev. 22:1-2).
Trees are cut and used to
make sacrifices. Trees get cut and built into an ark. They were flooded but
seeds survived. Then the father of nations, Abraham. He liked trees. Sitting
under them, at least. And planting them (Gen. 21:33). I think that is a
beautiful part of calling on God. Plant a tree first. Why aren’t there any
sermons about that?
Jacob used trees to trick
his uncle (Gen. 30:37), and all the trees of Egypt got stripped in the 10
plagues. For the Israelites, there were all kinds of rules regarding the trees
when going into the promised land, and, of course, one out of every 10 pieces
of fruit went to God. Does sharing with my sister count?
In Judges, a particularly
mixed up and ugly part of Israel’s history, a bunch of brothers get killed by a
half-brother and there is a parable about trees (Judges 9—I studied all the
references for trees. I don’t know this off the top of my head). The first king
of Israel also liked sitting under trees, and was then buried under one, after
he lost his head (1 Sam. 31:13). King David’s son, Absalom, got his hair stuck
in a tree and was dangling until he was stabbed to death (2 Sam. 18:9). Depressing.
Trees were used in
decorating the temple Solomon built (1 Kings 6:32—palm trees, specifically),
and will also be in the future temple in heaven (Eze. 41:18). Which leads me to
the point: God’s favorite tree is the palm tree. So is mine. Palm trees are the
specific type of tree mentioned most in the Bible. (Including as a sexual
innuendo in Song of Solomon).
Throughout the rest of the
Old Testament, trees are used as a symbol and physical reminder of God’s
blessing and prosperity (Ps. 37:35), and the lack thereof, or removal of trees
as a punishment (2 Kings 3:19). In Proverbs, four things are like a tree of
life: wisdom (3:18), results of righteousness (11:30), hope fulfilled (13:12),
and a healing tongue (15:4). Nebuchadnezzar had a dream that Daniel explained
about a tree. Sad ending: it gets chopped down.
Then the New Testament and
Jesus. He compares people to trees and our actions to their fruit (Matt. 7:17).
Luke 13 has his story about a man who planted a fig tree: if there are no figs,
what will he do? We find out what Jesus did to a non-fig fig tree: withered it
(Mt. 21:9). I’d rather have the “move mountains” option rather than “tree
withering” if given the choice with my faith.
There is the funny story
of the trees that walked (Mt. 8:24), that always makes me wonder why Jesus had
to heal him twice. In a traditional American folktale called “The Tale of the
Three Trees” there are three trees cut down and made into a manger, a fishing
boat, and a cross. As pretty as the tale is, the manger was probably made out
of stone. But I will give you the other two.
Jesus was a carpenter
during that whole “quiet time” of his life from age 12-30. He probably spent
more time with trees than with people. Makes me wonder what he was thinking. “I
am God…thou art a piece of wood…become a table!”
Galatians 3:13 makes it
clear that you aren’t supposed to get yourself crucified. But there was a plan
for this tree/hanging/crucifixion since before time began. And while I can’t call
this quick review of the 200+ times the word “tree” is used in the Bible “Trail
to the Tree,” this is following through to that culminating tree.
I pause, as scenes from “Passion
of Christ” come racing through my mind. I want to shut them out and skip to
Sunday. But the trail to the tree hasn’t stopped. Jesus died and He rose. He
sent His Holy Spirit to live and guide all those who are His, I am grafted into
that “tree” (Rom. 11:24). And don’t forget, I’m still looking forward to
meeting that tree called “Life.”
9.
Love
My
roommate said love was choosing to do the things listed in 1 Corinthians
13…patient, kind…loving her students, for example. It might not have any
emotion attached to it—sometimes there was, sometimes it followed. But it was
choosing to validate someone else and say they were worth it, worth loving. She
also told me to quit asking hard questions. My neighbor said love was
sacrifice, trust, and respect.
“Love”
and “in love” can be two different words. I am thinking about “love” because I
feel “in love.” I once made a list of how I knew I was “in love,” like
listening to love songs that told my story. Like wanting him to show up and see
what a good job I am doing, or carrying on conversations with him in my head.
Wanting to share everything with him, and whenever I am out, subconsciously
looking for him.
Five things I have
learned about love:
1. Everyone thinks of
something different when they hear the word "Love." We are constantly
growing into and from our definition of love.
2. You can't kill,
force, or control love. You can submit it. give it back or let it go. Love
always involves letting go of your expectations. Letting go of the person.
Letting go of your personal rights and desires.
3. Love is never
wasted. It transforms the average into the best.
4. Love is something
that both happens to you and you choose. the mixture of which is which that is
changing, fluid, and fluctuates.
5. Love is not
attached to actions. I don't love BECAUSE of what you do. If I did, then you
could do something I didn't like and I could stop loving you. But at the same
time, love will lead to actions, because that is what love is. (This nice
little paradox is sort of like faith and works in the book of James.)
As
soon as I switch my thoughts from being “in love” to “love” I realize what a
selfish beast I am. How I make it all about me. “Life is Beautiful” was the
best movie portrayal of love I’ve ever seen. After watching it I realized I’ve
never really loved. Not really. I asked another friend what love was and he
said “sacrifice and altruism.”
Philosophers
like Ayn Rand have an egoism theory—that in reality, all we do is some way
related to getting something out of it. That there is no such thing as altruism.
Even jumping in a lake and saving someone is egocentric because we would have
felt bad if we had let them drown, and we wanted to feel good about saving
them. Most of my life is lived that way. I think there are 3 times in my life
where I did something self-lessly, and I analyzed them so much that it ruined
that. My motives are always infected with me-ness.
“The rule for all of us is perfectly simple.
Do not waste time bothering whether you ‘love’ your neighbor; act as if you
did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are
behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him. If you
injure someone you dislike, you will find yourself disliking him more.”
–C.S.Lewis
Moving
from emotion to action. Love is doing what is best for the other. Not expecting
them to fill me or make me feel special. Not putting them in a place that only
God should fill. This is a whole new way to live.
How
can one be sure it is love? Perhaps it isn’t. Perhaps I have never really known
love. But if I am wrong, it is only because of ignorance of a greater love. I
believe it is love because it is
patient. I don't have to tell you about it. And you don't have to love me back.
It doesn't have expectations, and it doesn't call attention to itself. It is
always present, but it doesn't yell. It doesn't go away, and everything else
fades in its presence. It makes other parts of my life beautiful. It is not in
a rush--it knows that if this is the real thing, I have a lifetime to discover
it. And it doesn't need to be fed. It feeds me and fills me to satisfaction.
10. Abundance
Life
is too short to spend it fighting against
things. I don’t want to survive, I want to thrive. I want the life more
abundantly that Jesus died to give me. Life is too big for me if I only know
what I am not—I want to know what I am. I am not anti-poverty. I am
pro-abundance. I am not working to end scarcity, I am dancing to prove beauty
and plenty.
The
poor will always be with us, so let’s introduce ourselves and pull up a chair
to listen. Because stories are going to be told and no one will go home the
same. For everyone who needs a piece of bread, there is someone who needs to be
able to give that piece of bread to them. There is a great big God out there,
and He is reflected in a thousand different ways by the thousand different
people. Let me see His image in you.
11. I just can’t finish, because I know the best papers
are still in my head, waiting to be written…
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