show of hands: who remembers the story about the prodigal son? i've heard it what feels like a gazillion times. even though gazillion isn't a real number. it's a beautiful depiction of God's love for us, about being lost and then found, amazing grace, etc. etc. etc.
as of late, my mom has described her feelings towards my brother as the father's from that story. even though the son walked away and fell apart, the father still waited for him. he still wanted his son back. she told me that, unless you're a parent, there's really no way to compare a connection like that. she explained that, in parenthood, all bets are off - you would do anything for them. and of course, the father rejoiced when he got his son back.
since i don't have a child, i don't know that i can relate. and since i haven't deserted my family, i can't relate to the prodigal son either. the person i've always understood on some level, however, is the faithful son. which probably shouldn't be the case, because he's not the point of the story. also, i'm pretty sure Jesus wanted us to know that we are all, on some level, prodigal sons. still, i couldn't help but feel that he was justified in his resentment of his brother. here he was, the faithful son, watching his brother who'd screwed up and made a big mess of his life and his father's life, receive the full inheritance back. i fully sympathize with his anger. he, the faithful son, had stayed behind to work and make something of himself. he, the faithful son, hadn't broken his father's heart. he, the faithful son, had treasured his inheritance and lived a life worthy of it. in addition, which isn't mentioned in the story, but he, the faithful son, had probably spent a good amount of his life piecing his father's heart back together. he'd probably try to show his father that there wasn't a need to be shattered, that one of his children wanted to please and honor him. and then his brother, who he had seen hurt his father so, came back and it was as if he'd never left. in fact, they even threw him a party!
i think that, at times, my parents wish that my brothers and i would show a little more compassion towards the one. that our first desire wouldn't be to slap his face off. i've tried, and i think my brothers have tried as well, but that compassion has become hard to find these days. really.
so in the midst of our discussion, we revisited that story. i said that we've run out of compassion in the same way that the faithful son had. that we strive to honor and obey, and that, in the deepest regions of ourselves, we can't understand why our parents are broken. we all know that, should anything happen to us, our parents would feel just the same, but it's difficult to watch what our sibling does to them and still try to find that same compassion. we wonder, as the son probably wondered, what gives our sibling the right? our parents loved us all the same, gave us all the same things, and treated us the same. so why does this one feel that he should have the right, the ability, the gall, to act the way he does? why should his meager (and sometimes downright pathetic) excuses for faithfulness be rewarded - rejoiced over, and ours accepted or assumed?
i suppose that we, like the son, rest in the knowledge that we're loved and rejoiced over the same, though it manifests itself in different ways. that perhaps, what the prodigal son didn't have, we still have, though it might be difficult to identify or even accept these things. and perhaps, just perhaps, the difference in all this is that the prodigal son displayed humility, something that the rest of us have yet to see.
all the same, it doesn't make it any less difficult for us, the un-prodigal, to understand our brother(s). that son wasn't greedy or even wrong. he might have just wanted to remind his father that, while the other one was doing the destroying, it wasn't easy or enjoyable to pick up the pieces.
Showing posts with label literary parallels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label literary parallels. Show all posts
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Saturday, September 08, 2007
environmentalism for amateurs
"the times, they are a-changin."
or so the saying goes.
global warming. what do i think about it? to be completely honest, i'm not sure how i feel about it. these days, it seems like questioning the concept always produces a very specific response. the person stares at you in disbelief, as if you've just questioned the existence of gravity. their jaw drops a bit. you can sense their thoughts running rapidly through their mind, as they try to pick an appropriate thing to say to you. you see them discarding the most offensive ones in hopes of finding something that suits both your comment and their relationship to you. ah, here's one... "how can you say that?"
"it hasn't been researched very long, and i'm very confused. researchers tell me that you can feel the world warming up during our warm season, yet the news reports that we've had the coldest winter in a decade, so..."
"don't be ridiculous; it's a fact. the world is warming up."
"sure."
or so the saying goes.
global warming. what do i think about it? to be completely honest, i'm not sure how i feel about it. these days, it seems like questioning the concept always produces a very specific response. the person stares at you in disbelief, as if you've just questioned the existence of gravity. their jaw drops a bit. you can sense their thoughts running rapidly through their mind, as they try to pick an appropriate thing to say to you. you see them discarding the most offensive ones in hopes of finding something that suits both your comment and their relationship to you. ah, here's one... "how can you say that?"
"it hasn't been researched very long, and i'm very confused. researchers tell me that you can feel the world warming up during our warm season, yet the news reports that we've had the coldest winter in a decade, so..."
"don't be ridiculous; it's a fact. the world is warming up."
"sure."
to the dismay to some of my republican family members, i am, indeed, an environmentalist. okay, so i do a lot of things to their dismay. i believe in walking whenever i have the chance, in public transportation, in energy-efficient products, and in driving fuel-efficient vehicles. certainly, some things are unavoidable. no doubt, we are often forced to buy cars instead of using public transportation because of our location, particularly in the states. i understand this. but i am whole-heartedly against abusing our natural resources. this is not because i think the world is heating up or that it will one day explode. it's must simpler than that. and in terms of my reasoning, i direct your attention to psalm 19:
the heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork. day unto day utters speech and night unto night reveals knowledge. there is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. their line has gone out through all the earth and their words to the end of the world.
or isaiah 55:
for as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven, and do not return there, but water the earth, and make it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return to Me void, but it shall accomplish what I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it. for you shall go out with joy, and be led out with peace; the mountains and the hills shall break forth into singing before you, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.
these passages have always struck me as extremely powerful. while people often quote passages that claim that we have been given dominion over the world, my mind is constantly drawn to these passages. God likens his Word, His being, His truth, and His glory with the things of nature. He speaks of even the dormant natural objects around us proclaiming His name. of the many metaphors the writers of these passages may have chosen to explain the Word, it is interesting that they found these the most powerful and poetic. yet we continue to rip away at this. many a religion has claimed that divinity actually inhabits these objects, but i think that this image is even more powerful. nature is an expression of the glory of God, of His presence around us. though we tear it down in the name of humanity and the advancement of civilization, all these things abound without our help. they, quite literally, come directly from God, without our hand at all. and in their silence, they shout louder than everything around us, as our world becomes deafened to His call by the day. how foolish would be if we, then, remove it all? the things that we can't reproduce, the things which praise Him without any human intervention, of which, praises resonate even in the starkest stillness. their worship screams louder than any of the things we erect.
when i climbed mt. rinjani this summer, one of the most noticeable aspects of elevation is the removal of all human sounds. you cannot hear cars, or planes, or boats, or the white, monotonous buzz of something as plain as electricity. for the first time, possibly ever, i heard nothing. God says that we can hear Him in a still, small voice, and on top of the mountain, i think i understood the meaning of that phrase for the very first time. with the extraneous noises removed, you can hear a whisper of His glory so loud that almost compels you to cover your ears, see such a small glimpse that it's almost blinding. the trees clapped their hands and the mountains sung, but it was not as we might expect, with all innocuous sensory stimulants around us - the kind that almost make us numb. it was in the stillness, in the absolute quiet that i could hear His glory, and the shouts, the proclamations of His handiwork, weren't even audible. despite our ability to push the sound barrier to ever-increasing limits, how much more amazing is it that one does not even need to hear anything to be utterly overwhelmed by the shouting of His creation?
i once read an essay by a jewish ethicist that explained, as clearly as he could, why he believed in environmentalism. he argued that he saw the world as God's body - the physical manifestation of something we could not otherwise understand. he saw protecting the environment as simply a way of honoring and praising God. as one does not desecrate the temple, so should one respect the natural world around us. he encouraged his readers not to think of themselves as having dominion over the world, but as having been entrusted to take care of the world.
i am not, and have never been, scientifically inclined. you can throw research and data at me, and it will not affect me. with all the research on why we're dying so much or what will surely happen to us if we don't stop, i am no more compelled to change anything. but when faced with something as moving as the glory of God, shouting from the tops of mt. rinjani, i am certain that it should be - nay - it must be preserved.
Friday, August 31, 2007
i happen to think witches are pretty cool.
"better late than never."
or so the saying goes.
i've been working my way through harry potter.
it took me 10 years, but i decided it's time to suck it up and give it a try. truthfully, i have always believed harry potter to be merely a fad. i expected that its popularity would eventually die out, as i generally have a great deal of skepticism in terms of pop literature. but it's been about 3 weeks since i began my venture, and i'm already on book 5. i confess: i just can't put the books down. with each installment, they get a little bit darker, a little bit more mature, a little bit more complex, and a little more compelling. quite frankly, i'm impressed.
over the past few years, i've heard a great deal of dissent regarding the harry potter books from the christian community. as they're about witches and wizards and other subjects of that nature, the great conundrum arises: to allow or not to allow? should it find a place among shelves with narnia or frodo, or should it be discouraged and indeed, banished? i've read a few reviews over the years, all of them saying to stick with lotr and that the themes within harry potter are spiritually destructive.
now that i've read for myself, i couldn't disagree more. for one thing, simply based on literary merit, i think rowling has achieved an enormous imaginative feat. it is rare to find such compelling writing on a fantasy world such as this. in narnia and the world of tolkien, they invent complete alter-universes. they exist outside of time and space as we know it. their worlds have different histories, different physical and metaphysical boundaries, different races and species - all of it outside of what we know and understand. rowling's world is similar. she invents a reality that exists both separately and parallel to the supposed real world. it too has its own histories, its own boundaries of possible/impossible/physical/metaphysical, and its own species. she indulges our fantasies: what if magic really existed? what if there was a world where we could disappear, change forms, move things around, read minds, see/walk through walls, or fly without technology? a world where people could do this at will? don't pretend like you don't think it, because - seriously - how cool would that be? rowling invents a world where all these exist, and so much more. where people not only have the ability to do these things, but must learn to use them. that exists along with the regular human race, and it intimately entwined with it. a place among the genetic code where some have the powers and some don't. some know about the alter-universe and others don't. some rely on technology and others don't. two worlds existing together, one in time and space as we know it, with all the histories and all the happenings of our own world, and another one right beside it, with its very own history and its very own struggles.
but all this is superfluous, right? that's not the threat. the threat is the existence of magic, the employment of witchcraft, and, probably most importantly, the absence of God. after all, what about all the underlying themes - is rowling championing witchcraft? is she encouraging a generation of children to become fascinated with satanism, deception, and magic? upon my own examination, i believe that christians that get hung up on this have simply not looked past all the innocuous, superficial aspects of these texts. they truly haven't thought critically about it at all.
true, there's witchcraft and magic, but the stories have much more universal and, i would suggest, nobler themes than these. these simply serve to indulge the imagination - to feed into all the things we've thought about as children.
and true, there is no question of God or spirituality in her books. but i see this as no different than any other addition to the fantasy genre. it's an alternate universe. think about all the great fantasy adventures of our day. even in a God-less piece of art, we cannot discount them, because they open up our imagination to what something might be like if the world didn't have the same boundaries and existential quandaries we have now. in star wars. or narnia. or middle earth. or any of the comic books with batman or superman or the x-men. and we do not dismiss these things based on the God principle. we see them as literary or artistic achievements. if we are to be consistent, we cannot dismiss rowling based on this characteristic.
more important than God or witchcraft, i think, is the existence of a moral and spiritual duality in rowling's books. it's not simple floundering, not remotely about idle dabble in magic and imagination. there is a war being waged. and not just any war, but a clear battle between good and evil. a championing of hope, compassion, generosity, sacrifice, and love, and disdain for cruelty, selfishness, and the heartlessness. there is a duality: between voldemort and dumbledore and everything they stand for. voldemort is cruel and power-hungry. he's an elitist, a murderer, a wager of chaos and mass genocide. dumbledore stands for all the things that we need even in our own world: acceptance of other people, kindness to all, reason, compassion, and a firm stance on what is right. i'm on book 5, and talk of war is stirring. most of the wizarding world believes that the dark side is not rising - that their troubles were over years ago, but dumbledore knows better. and though the world strips him, one by one, of titles. though people call him crazy, pelt him with insults, and his credibility slowly slips away, he stands firm in his beliefs. he knows that the good will have to stand against the evil sooner or later, and wisely chooses not to ignore it, despite protest. and even in the face of his enemies, he is polite, kind, reasonable, and steady. never behaving out of emotional preference, but out of what is good and what is right. and i can't help but find it to be encouraging in our spiritually non-committal world. if children of our own generation need an example in the books they read, i'm glad dumbledore serves as one. it's not good enough to simply deny that bad things are happening. it's not good enough to pretend. it's not good enough to remain neutral. one must stand up for what is right, simply because it is so. because it's an insult to principle not to. not all things are just okay. some truly are bad and such things must be fought, but never at the breech of justice. and never in a way that even remotely compromises the sanctity of human life.
in such a lifeless world, a world that so disinterested in picking sides, i'm glad to see such a fierce dichotomy. such a decided understanding of good and evil, and that, in the face of adversary, the good is always upheld.
i've also read articles that these stories undermine family values, championing only the wizard families and encouraging children to fight against their parents. harry's family treats him horribly and in return, he fiercely hates them. first of all, has this person ever read british literature? this is the classic situation in story after story. it's very dickens-esque. if you disallow harry potter for this reason, you should also disallow every book that has a child rebelling against his or her parents or family's expectations. even the girls in jane austen are resistant to what their parents want. it is too simple to say that rowling devalues human families and encourages wizard families. while harry is treated poorly by his aunt and uncle, families like the blacks or the malfoys, both wizard families, are worse. they go so far as to ostracize family members for being to benevolent to the human race (the "inferior" race). according to such families, if you don't hate the humans ("muggles"), you're a disgrace. in the face of racism, sirius chose not to partake, and as a result, his family pretended he never even existed. the malfoys, though a strong family unit, are plain horrible. the best example of a functional family is the weasleys, a very large, but very poor wizard family. rowling makes it clear, however, that compassion and acceptances of others is far more important than money. it doesn't matter what you have - what matters is how you treat others. and not all human families are dysfunctional. hermione, for example, comes from a human family, and has a very good relationship with her parents. they treat her well and she loves them dearly.
aside from this, i find it interesting that many christians aren't moved simply by the first almost-annihilation of voldemort. he was relieved of physical form by hubris. attempting to murder harry, his own spell rebounded onto himself. harry only survived because of his mother's sacrifice. she died holding him in his arms, protecting harry - she died sacrificing her life for his - and it was the only thing that could deflect the curse. in the books there are three unforgivable curses... curses that send wizards to azkaban - a veritable hell. imposing your will onto another's. the torture curse. and the death curse. because they take away inalienable human rights - the right to free will, to bodily preservation, and to life. which christians, exactly, would disagree that these should be, indeed, unforgivable? it was using the third that voldemort was destroyed. by sacrifice. sacrifice conquers even death.
sacrifice conquers death.
sacrifice conquers death.
now that's funny, because i vaguely remember a bible story about that...
or so the saying goes.
i've been working my way through harry potter.
it took me 10 years, but i decided it's time to suck it up and give it a try. truthfully, i have always believed harry potter to be merely a fad. i expected that its popularity would eventually die out, as i generally have a great deal of skepticism in terms of pop literature. but it's been about 3 weeks since i began my venture, and i'm already on book 5. i confess: i just can't put the books down. with each installment, they get a little bit darker, a little bit more mature, a little bit more complex, and a little more compelling. quite frankly, i'm impressed.
over the past few years, i've heard a great deal of dissent regarding the harry potter books from the christian community. as they're about witches and wizards and other subjects of that nature, the great conundrum arises: to allow or not to allow? should it find a place among shelves with narnia or frodo, or should it be discouraged and indeed, banished? i've read a few reviews over the years, all of them saying to stick with lotr and that the themes within harry potter are spiritually destructive.
now that i've read for myself, i couldn't disagree more. for one thing, simply based on literary merit, i think rowling has achieved an enormous imaginative feat. it is rare to find such compelling writing on a fantasy world such as this. in narnia and the world of tolkien, they invent complete alter-universes. they exist outside of time and space as we know it. their worlds have different histories, different physical and metaphysical boundaries, different races and species - all of it outside of what we know and understand. rowling's world is similar. she invents a reality that exists both separately and parallel to the supposed real world. it too has its own histories, its own boundaries of possible/impossible/physical/metaphysical, and its own species. she indulges our fantasies: what if magic really existed? what if there was a world where we could disappear, change forms, move things around, read minds, see/walk through walls, or fly without technology? a world where people could do this at will? don't pretend like you don't think it, because - seriously - how cool would that be? rowling invents a world where all these exist, and so much more. where people not only have the ability to do these things, but must learn to use them. that exists along with the regular human race, and it intimately entwined with it. a place among the genetic code where some have the powers and some don't. some know about the alter-universe and others don't. some rely on technology and others don't. two worlds existing together, one in time and space as we know it, with all the histories and all the happenings of our own world, and another one right beside it, with its very own history and its very own struggles.
but all this is superfluous, right? that's not the threat. the threat is the existence of magic, the employment of witchcraft, and, probably most importantly, the absence of God. after all, what about all the underlying themes - is rowling championing witchcraft? is she encouraging a generation of children to become fascinated with satanism, deception, and magic? upon my own examination, i believe that christians that get hung up on this have simply not looked past all the innocuous, superficial aspects of these texts. they truly haven't thought critically about it at all.
true, there's witchcraft and magic, but the stories have much more universal and, i would suggest, nobler themes than these. these simply serve to indulge the imagination - to feed into all the things we've thought about as children.
and true, there is no question of God or spirituality in her books. but i see this as no different than any other addition to the fantasy genre. it's an alternate universe. think about all the great fantasy adventures of our day. even in a God-less piece of art, we cannot discount them, because they open up our imagination to what something might be like if the world didn't have the same boundaries and existential quandaries we have now. in star wars. or narnia. or middle earth. or any of the comic books with batman or superman or the x-men. and we do not dismiss these things based on the God principle. we see them as literary or artistic achievements. if we are to be consistent, we cannot dismiss rowling based on this characteristic.
more important than God or witchcraft, i think, is the existence of a moral and spiritual duality in rowling's books. it's not simple floundering, not remotely about idle dabble in magic and imagination. there is a war being waged. and not just any war, but a clear battle between good and evil. a championing of hope, compassion, generosity, sacrifice, and love, and disdain for cruelty, selfishness, and the heartlessness. there is a duality: between voldemort and dumbledore and everything they stand for. voldemort is cruel and power-hungry. he's an elitist, a murderer, a wager of chaos and mass genocide. dumbledore stands for all the things that we need even in our own world: acceptance of other people, kindness to all, reason, compassion, and a firm stance on what is right. i'm on book 5, and talk of war is stirring. most of the wizarding world believes that the dark side is not rising - that their troubles were over years ago, but dumbledore knows better. and though the world strips him, one by one, of titles. though people call him crazy, pelt him with insults, and his credibility slowly slips away, he stands firm in his beliefs. he knows that the good will have to stand against the evil sooner or later, and wisely chooses not to ignore it, despite protest. and even in the face of his enemies, he is polite, kind, reasonable, and steady. never behaving out of emotional preference, but out of what is good and what is right. and i can't help but find it to be encouraging in our spiritually non-committal world. if children of our own generation need an example in the books they read, i'm glad dumbledore serves as one. it's not good enough to simply deny that bad things are happening. it's not good enough to pretend. it's not good enough to remain neutral. one must stand up for what is right, simply because it is so. because it's an insult to principle not to. not all things are just okay. some truly are bad and such things must be fought, but never at the breech of justice. and never in a way that even remotely compromises the sanctity of human life.
in such a lifeless world, a world that so disinterested in picking sides, i'm glad to see such a fierce dichotomy. such a decided understanding of good and evil, and that, in the face of adversary, the good is always upheld.
i've also read articles that these stories undermine family values, championing only the wizard families and encouraging children to fight against their parents. harry's family treats him horribly and in return, he fiercely hates them. first of all, has this person ever read british literature? this is the classic situation in story after story. it's very dickens-esque. if you disallow harry potter for this reason, you should also disallow every book that has a child rebelling against his or her parents or family's expectations. even the girls in jane austen are resistant to what their parents want. it is too simple to say that rowling devalues human families and encourages wizard families. while harry is treated poorly by his aunt and uncle, families like the blacks or the malfoys, both wizard families, are worse. they go so far as to ostracize family members for being to benevolent to the human race (the "inferior" race). according to such families, if you don't hate the humans ("muggles"), you're a disgrace. in the face of racism, sirius chose not to partake, and as a result, his family pretended he never even existed. the malfoys, though a strong family unit, are plain horrible. the best example of a functional family is the weasleys, a very large, but very poor wizard family. rowling makes it clear, however, that compassion and acceptances of others is far more important than money. it doesn't matter what you have - what matters is how you treat others. and not all human families are dysfunctional. hermione, for example, comes from a human family, and has a very good relationship with her parents. they treat her well and she loves them dearly.
aside from this, i find it interesting that many christians aren't moved simply by the first almost-annihilation of voldemort. he was relieved of physical form by hubris. attempting to murder harry, his own spell rebounded onto himself. harry only survived because of his mother's sacrifice. she died holding him in his arms, protecting harry - she died sacrificing her life for his - and it was the only thing that could deflect the curse. in the books there are three unforgivable curses... curses that send wizards to azkaban - a veritable hell. imposing your will onto another's. the torture curse. and the death curse. because they take away inalienable human rights - the right to free will, to bodily preservation, and to life. which christians, exactly, would disagree that these should be, indeed, unforgivable? it was using the third that voldemort was destroyed. by sacrifice. sacrifice conquers even death.
sacrifice conquers death.
sacrifice conquers death.
now that's funny, because i vaguely remember a bible story about that...
Monday, March 26, 2007
the church, christians, and the gross unpopularity of believing
"not all who wander are lost."
or so the saying goes.
"augustine just woke up with a broken heart
all this time, he's never been awake before
at thirty-one his whole world is a question mark
all this time, he's never been awake before
watching dreams that he once had
feed the flame inside his head
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You...'"
nearly 3 years ago, i read augustine's confessions. and while i maintain that he's a bit dry, there was something about his story that captivated me, that felt like an iron clasp on my soul. i would never claim to know as much, to ever hope to change the world as much as he did, or even that i think as hard as he did, but i related to the things he said. growing up with a mother that believed fervently in God and practiced her religion with devotion, augustine found himself rebelling against her faith. he loved and respected her, but there was something about it that he could not accept, could not feel, could not practice with sincerity. so he searched, and made numerous bad choices in the process. he ran from God and from religion as he understood it. even though his mother tried and pleaded, he couldn't - wouldn't - change. it wasn't for many years and after many, many poor decisions that he found himself before God, finally humbled. i have always felt that the most remarkable, powerful part of the story is not that he was lost and then was found, nor that he was blind and then saw. rather, i felt something when he was alone in a garden that one day, the day that everything changed. augustine, a man who thought he was too smart for everyone else, especially for tradition and God as his mother followed Him, cried out because he had reached the end of himself. because something inside his soul ached for what he knew he did not have, what he had been escaping for so long. i love that it defied logical explanation, that it was so intangible, but from which he could no longer hide.
i feel vindicated by augustine, because his belief in God was something that simply happened - a burst of faith that he later intellectualized. i walk so much by faith, perhaps not enough by academic and intellectual realization. i feel pulled, that there must be something more, that i can't run, yet there are aspects of christianity that i run away from, even hide from. augustine couldn't practice traditionally, but he knew God's presence when his soul cried out that day.
for the past year, perhaps even longer, i feel like i've been in the midst of an existential crisis. i've decided to stop attending church, and have spent significantly more time with people who have differing points of view on religion, faith, spirituality, the works. at times, i have even asked myself why i keep following Jesus. to those who don't see why this is a big deal, i think some perspective is necessary. while it's safe to say that temecula is a bubble, there exists dozens of sub-layers of bubbles beneath that one. there is temecula. then long-time temecula residents. then church-goers. then home-schoolers. and to top it all off, there are the home-schoolers of cornerstone academy - the christian home-schooling community where i spent 12 glorious years of my life. yes, i grew up in bubbles within bubbles. to those who think this must have been cruel, you misunderstand me. i liked being home-schooled. i liked growing up in the church. i wouldn't change any of it. when i'm honest, it's probably good, because i might have turned out to be a terror without such a morally strict community. with all this background, it's strange for me that i find myself so far away from where i once was. to some, it might seem natural, but to me, it's difficult.
i think the reason i haven't walked away from it all, however, is that, fundamentally, i believe in Jesus, what He said, and what He lived, died, and lived again for. my problem, i suppose, is all the small, unimportant characteristics of christianity today. church feels like it's so much about saying or doing or knowing the right thing, that it doesn't even feel sincere for me to participate. i sing the words, but they're simply words. i don't feel them resonate in my soul anymore. the jargon is probably what bothers me the most. things like: "God put it on my heart to..."
i've always hated phrases like that, because it makes anything that follows it irrefutable. if you told me God told you to do something, am i going to argue with you? me, argue against the very voice of God? and when i'm struggling with something - with a job, a relationship, school - i don't need to hear that it's because i'm not in communion enough with God, because i haven't gone to church, or because i don't pray enough. unfortunately, these are all cookie-cutter, classic aspects of christians today. they make me writhe with frustration, because people who struggle or who don't hold fast to that sort of faith in God cannot relate. i can't have a discussion with someone who hasn't found his or her place in the cosmic hugeness of God and tell that person that i heard God, that i know what God told me. i also feel silly making such assumptions. i believed God's will was a lot of things, and the majority of them have blown up in my face, revealing new purpose and direction in my life. so i've stopped feeling that in my heart, that i know that this is what God wants because His ways aren't mine. i tell others that some things make sense or that i believe everything happens for a reason and that God is intimately connected with my existence, but i don't claim to know what's going on. for all the bad/unexpected things that have happened in my life, i am grateful for their results, and i choose to abide by a good attitude and constant movement.
my problem lies with christian sub-culture rather than the faith itself. we separate ourselves with fences made of jargon, cross necklaces, and the gross blatancy that we disapprove of the vast stupidity of humans.
true, it seems counterproductive to assign such a cliche to something to which i align my life and even claim to be my salvation. and it's fair enough that postmodern culture is effective enough at this without my help. i would argue that the labels are unfair, but we often make ourselves easy targets. just browse websites like myspace or have a trivial conversation or two. we're easy to spot. our favorite books consist of the purpose-driven life and the bible, or maybe a little c.s. lewis if you're very lucky. it angers me to see "blue like jazz" as the "best book ever" and no mention of dickens or plath or flannery or tolstoy or chaucer or homer or austen. we just make it so easy, because we don't venture outside of the comfortable. we say "f-ing" when the whole world knows that what we really mean is "fucking." and of course, there's the constant talk of "praise the Lord," "grace," and true "love." yet the terms are so steeped in subcultural meanings that they have disintegrated into mere words, void of any genuine meaning or action. we speak of grace, but quickly shake our heads without listening or trying to understand. the world is full of black and white, but many people only feel the judgment, the lack of redemption, the inherent absence of His-ness in their relationships with christians.
i believe that, deep down, we are seeking righteousness. we do love others, but we present ourselves in all the wrong ways. we don't let them get too close, lest we be termed hypocrites. i've discovered in all the most painful ways that being wrong is not hypocritical if you can own up to it, if you can tell someone when they're wrong, yet admit your shortcomings as well. love God. follow Him whole-heartedly. know your faith. know that there is black and white, not just gray. seek His will, and actively pursue intimacy and purpose. but be still as well. find out what makes a person move, and they will want to know what moves you. and He, if He is real and if He is there, will pique their interest, will open them up to who He is and what it means to follow.
i pray sincerely, the way that i know how, the way that feels natural. separate yourself from the subculture, as tempting as it is. and be.
on a separate, though related, topic, i wanted to touch on another phenomena that i have observed about modern intellectual culture. these are the qualities of spirituality, non-commitment, and homogeneity. we claim that the world would be fine so long as people would seek inner peace or religion would separate itself from all other faculties - from education, politics, entertainment. what i don't understand is why, when we are so critical of religion, so detailed about how it contradicts itself, we are so vague about how we see purpose in our lives. it's as though a person can't possibly hope to live progressively if one has a religion or hasn't invented one's own spirituality - a spirituality which states that nobody's wrong and nobody's right. except maybe buddhism. but even buddhists are radical. they lock themselves up in monastaries, seeking enlightenment, because they are so convinced that their ways are right.
one of my best friends (my best friend?) is catholic. we talk about religion all the time, because we both ascribe to a set of beliefs. i am protestant because i believe luther was right, though i appreciate a lot about the catholic church. about commitment. about beauty and tradition. we talk about how uncool we are for picking a side. what people hate to admit is that committing to a side means that we think we're right and they're wrong. it must. it doesn't mean we don't respect those who choose otherwise, nor will we kill someone who contradicts us. but we will tell them that they're wrong. there is something wrong with a society that lives only by personal conviction - by only personal spirituality, which won't admit anyone is right or wrong. religion forces a series of pleasant and unpleasant tasks to each of us. it forces us to be outside of ourselves, to align ourselves and be responsible to more than simply what is inside our heads. to stand up or sit down. to surrender ourselves. to love others. because our faith in God and our adherence to His will commands that we do so. because we believe that such a commitment yields absolute truth.
in a world of radicalism, i find it ironic that we lack the motivation to be radical about the state of our souls or about truth. we pick sides all the time, but somehow lack the ability to do so in religion.
as i step into my future, i am slowly finding how much i pray for what augustine had. i pray for the conviction to cry out to God, to stick to God, to know God, to yield to God. i pray that God will humble me as he was humbled; i pray for a broken heart that finds its only solace in Him. i pray for the ability to say "yes, there is one God, only one way, and i know it. i surrender." i pray against mere personal philosophy, mere inner peace, mere spirituality. yet i also pray for his cynicism towards the concept that all must know Him the same way, for his inability to simply slip into what christianity appears to be rather than what it means. i pray for his sincerity, for his desire to know God because He is God, not because it's simply what christians do, what appears holiest. and i pray that my genuine commitment to a genuine faith is what motivates others towards God, not a mere attempt to adhere to goodness nor an ability to hide my shortcomings from others. i pray.
"...augustine, all his fears keep falling out
all this time, he's never been awake before
finding out all his dreams aren't panning out
all this time, he's never been awake before
but he's glad to be alive
and he's dying to be met
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You
hey, i give it all away
nothing i was holding back remains
hey, i give it all away
looking for the grace of God today...'"
-switchfoot
or so the saying goes.
"augustine just woke up with a broken heart
all this time, he's never been awake before
at thirty-one his whole world is a question mark
all this time, he's never been awake before
watching dreams that he once had
feed the flame inside his head
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You...'"
nearly 3 years ago, i read augustine's confessions. and while i maintain that he's a bit dry, there was something about his story that captivated me, that felt like an iron clasp on my soul. i would never claim to know as much, to ever hope to change the world as much as he did, or even that i think as hard as he did, but i related to the things he said. growing up with a mother that believed fervently in God and practiced her religion with devotion, augustine found himself rebelling against her faith. he loved and respected her, but there was something about it that he could not accept, could not feel, could not practice with sincerity. so he searched, and made numerous bad choices in the process. he ran from God and from religion as he understood it. even though his mother tried and pleaded, he couldn't - wouldn't - change. it wasn't for many years and after many, many poor decisions that he found himself before God, finally humbled. i have always felt that the most remarkable, powerful part of the story is not that he was lost and then was found, nor that he was blind and then saw. rather, i felt something when he was alone in a garden that one day, the day that everything changed. augustine, a man who thought he was too smart for everyone else, especially for tradition and God as his mother followed Him, cried out because he had reached the end of himself. because something inside his soul ached for what he knew he did not have, what he had been escaping for so long. i love that it defied logical explanation, that it was so intangible, but from which he could no longer hide.
i feel vindicated by augustine, because his belief in God was something that simply happened - a burst of faith that he later intellectualized. i walk so much by faith, perhaps not enough by academic and intellectual realization. i feel pulled, that there must be something more, that i can't run, yet there are aspects of christianity that i run away from, even hide from. augustine couldn't practice traditionally, but he knew God's presence when his soul cried out that day.
for the past year, perhaps even longer, i feel like i've been in the midst of an existential crisis. i've decided to stop attending church, and have spent significantly more time with people who have differing points of view on religion, faith, spirituality, the works. at times, i have even asked myself why i keep following Jesus. to those who don't see why this is a big deal, i think some perspective is necessary. while it's safe to say that temecula is a bubble, there exists dozens of sub-layers of bubbles beneath that one. there is temecula. then long-time temecula residents. then church-goers. then home-schoolers. and to top it all off, there are the home-schoolers of cornerstone academy - the christian home-schooling community where i spent 12 glorious years of my life. yes, i grew up in bubbles within bubbles. to those who think this must have been cruel, you misunderstand me. i liked being home-schooled. i liked growing up in the church. i wouldn't change any of it. when i'm honest, it's probably good, because i might have turned out to be a terror without such a morally strict community. with all this background, it's strange for me that i find myself so far away from where i once was. to some, it might seem natural, but to me, it's difficult.
i think the reason i haven't walked away from it all, however, is that, fundamentally, i believe in Jesus, what He said, and what He lived, died, and lived again for. my problem, i suppose, is all the small, unimportant characteristics of christianity today. church feels like it's so much about saying or doing or knowing the right thing, that it doesn't even feel sincere for me to participate. i sing the words, but they're simply words. i don't feel them resonate in my soul anymore. the jargon is probably what bothers me the most. things like: "God put it on my heart to..."
i've always hated phrases like that, because it makes anything that follows it irrefutable. if you told me God told you to do something, am i going to argue with you? me, argue against the very voice of God? and when i'm struggling with something - with a job, a relationship, school - i don't need to hear that it's because i'm not in communion enough with God, because i haven't gone to church, or because i don't pray enough. unfortunately, these are all cookie-cutter, classic aspects of christians today. they make me writhe with frustration, because people who struggle or who don't hold fast to that sort of faith in God cannot relate. i can't have a discussion with someone who hasn't found his or her place in the cosmic hugeness of God and tell that person that i heard God, that i know what God told me. i also feel silly making such assumptions. i believed God's will was a lot of things, and the majority of them have blown up in my face, revealing new purpose and direction in my life. so i've stopped feeling that in my heart, that i know that this is what God wants because His ways aren't mine. i tell others that some things make sense or that i believe everything happens for a reason and that God is intimately connected with my existence, but i don't claim to know what's going on. for all the bad/unexpected things that have happened in my life, i am grateful for their results, and i choose to abide by a good attitude and constant movement.
my problem lies with christian sub-culture rather than the faith itself. we separate ourselves with fences made of jargon, cross necklaces, and the gross blatancy that we disapprove of the vast stupidity of humans.
true, it seems counterproductive to assign such a cliche to something to which i align my life and even claim to be my salvation. and it's fair enough that postmodern culture is effective enough at this without my help. i would argue that the labels are unfair, but we often make ourselves easy targets. just browse websites like myspace or have a trivial conversation or two. we're easy to spot. our favorite books consist of the purpose-driven life and the bible, or maybe a little c.s. lewis if you're very lucky. it angers me to see "blue like jazz" as the "best book ever" and no mention of dickens or plath or flannery or tolstoy or chaucer or homer or austen. we just make it so easy, because we don't venture outside of the comfortable. we say "f-ing" when the whole world knows that what we really mean is "fucking." and of course, there's the constant talk of "praise the Lord," "grace," and true "love." yet the terms are so steeped in subcultural meanings that they have disintegrated into mere words, void of any genuine meaning or action. we speak of grace, but quickly shake our heads without listening or trying to understand. the world is full of black and white, but many people only feel the judgment, the lack of redemption, the inherent absence of His-ness in their relationships with christians.
i believe that, deep down, we are seeking righteousness. we do love others, but we present ourselves in all the wrong ways. we don't let them get too close, lest we be termed hypocrites. i've discovered in all the most painful ways that being wrong is not hypocritical if you can own up to it, if you can tell someone when they're wrong, yet admit your shortcomings as well. love God. follow Him whole-heartedly. know your faith. know that there is black and white, not just gray. seek His will, and actively pursue intimacy and purpose. but be still as well. find out what makes a person move, and they will want to know what moves you. and He, if He is real and if He is there, will pique their interest, will open them up to who He is and what it means to follow.
i pray sincerely, the way that i know how, the way that feels natural. separate yourself from the subculture, as tempting as it is. and be.
on a separate, though related, topic, i wanted to touch on another phenomena that i have observed about modern intellectual culture. these are the qualities of spirituality, non-commitment, and homogeneity. we claim that the world would be fine so long as people would seek inner peace or religion would separate itself from all other faculties - from education, politics, entertainment. what i don't understand is why, when we are so critical of religion, so detailed about how it contradicts itself, we are so vague about how we see purpose in our lives. it's as though a person can't possibly hope to live progressively if one has a religion or hasn't invented one's own spirituality - a spirituality which states that nobody's wrong and nobody's right. except maybe buddhism. but even buddhists are radical. they lock themselves up in monastaries, seeking enlightenment, because they are so convinced that their ways are right.
one of my best friends (my best friend?) is catholic. we talk about religion all the time, because we both ascribe to a set of beliefs. i am protestant because i believe luther was right, though i appreciate a lot about the catholic church. about commitment. about beauty and tradition. we talk about how uncool we are for picking a side. what people hate to admit is that committing to a side means that we think we're right and they're wrong. it must. it doesn't mean we don't respect those who choose otherwise, nor will we kill someone who contradicts us. but we will tell them that they're wrong. there is something wrong with a society that lives only by personal conviction - by only personal spirituality, which won't admit anyone is right or wrong. religion forces a series of pleasant and unpleasant tasks to each of us. it forces us to be outside of ourselves, to align ourselves and be responsible to more than simply what is inside our heads. to stand up or sit down. to surrender ourselves. to love others. because our faith in God and our adherence to His will commands that we do so. because we believe that such a commitment yields absolute truth.
in a world of radicalism, i find it ironic that we lack the motivation to be radical about the state of our souls or about truth. we pick sides all the time, but somehow lack the ability to do so in religion.
as i step into my future, i am slowly finding how much i pray for what augustine had. i pray for the conviction to cry out to God, to stick to God, to know God, to yield to God. i pray that God will humble me as he was humbled; i pray for a broken heart that finds its only solace in Him. i pray for the ability to say "yes, there is one God, only one way, and i know it. i surrender." i pray against mere personal philosophy, mere inner peace, mere spirituality. yet i also pray for his cynicism towards the concept that all must know Him the same way, for his inability to simply slip into what christianity appears to be rather than what it means. i pray for his sincerity, for his desire to know God because He is God, not because it's simply what christians do, what appears holiest. and i pray that my genuine commitment to a genuine faith is what motivates others towards God, not a mere attempt to adhere to goodness nor an ability to hide my shortcomings from others. i pray.
"...augustine, all his fears keep falling out
all this time, he's never been awake before
finding out all his dreams aren't panning out
all this time, he's never been awake before
but he's glad to be alive
and he's dying to be met
in the quiet desperation of the emptiness he said,
'there's got to be something more, than what i'm living for
i'm crying out to You
hey, i give it all away
nothing i was holding back remains
hey, i give it all away
looking for the grace of God today...'"
-switchfoot
Friday, March 16, 2007
dante had it easy
"so it goes."
or so the saying goes.
let's reflect on one of the circles of hell in my life.
today, about 8:30am at starbucks, our filtered water simply stopped working. this meant no coffee, no hot tea, and no espresso drinks, including no steamed milk, as all the machines that we use to make the drinks are directly connected to the filtered water system. we were, however, capable of the following: pastries, iced tea and iced tea lemonades at full strength, iced chai, iced coffee, and frappuccinos... at least until the ingredients ran out, as filtered water is required to make prep for them. as luck would have it, today was also national coffee break day, which meant that we were giving away free coffee from 10am to 12pm. with no coffee brewing capabilities. fuuuuun.
as a result, 2 hours of my day went something like this:
customer: i'd like a venti latte with nonf--...
me: (interrupting), i'm afraid we can't make lattes right now. there is a sign on the front door explaining that our filtered water system stopped working this morning, meaning that we can't make brewed coffee, though my partner is demoing some on the floor, and we can't use our espresso machines.
customer: so your espresso machine's not working?
me: no, it's working. it's just directly connected to the filtered water system, and there's no way around this fact. without filtered water, it can't produce espresso shots or steam milk.
customer: (annoyed) oh. so what can you make?
me: we can make iced chai, frappuccinos, iced tea, and iced coffee, because none of these require filtered water or steamed milk. if you want coffee, we're giving it away for free, and if none of those work, i can direct you to the nearest starbucks about a mile down the street.
customer: oh. so can you make me a caramel macchiato?
me: no, because the caramel macchiato requires espresso shots.
customer: oh, i see. what about a cappuccino?
me: no, because the cappuccino requires steamed milk.
customer: iced caramel macchiato?
me: no, because we can't make espresso.
customer: well... can you blend the caramel macchiato?
me: it would taste similar to the caramel frappuccino, and we can make those if you'd like. if not, we have free coffee behind you.
customer: okay, i'll take that.
*pounds head against wall. repeatedly.*
i like my job, but i'm tired of having a degree and having to deal with people of this sort all day long.
i was surprised by two things in today's saga of disheartening lessons about the human race. namely:
1. people refused free shit. okay, so maybe coffee isn't your favorite, or maybe you haven't tried it. it's free. i'd try it for that very reason, and if i didn't like it, that would be okay. no skin off my nose, because it didn't cost me anything!!
2. people really get upset if they have to vary from their usual routine. and also, they have no idea what goes into their drinks. so to those who think they're cool because they have a complicated drink: please shut up, because really you don't know anything. if you continue to ask for lattes and cafe au laits after i've explained to you that we have neither espresso-making capabilities nor milk-steaming abilities, you really don't know what constitutes the drink. in which case, just ask! i love talking about it; it's one of the few highlights of my dreary existence. we go through weeks of training and months of perfecting our skills (seriously, we're nerdy enough to argue about this and compete for title of most glorious foam... mine's pretty good, i'll have you know), and we'll gladly talk about it if you sincerely don't know what's in it. at least know the difference between a macchiato and a cappuccino... it's good to know.
my days living a latte-free existence during lent have truly given me an appreciation for black coffee and the doppio. and also, my next boyfriend needs to love coffee.
or so the saying goes.
let's reflect on one of the circles of hell in my life.
today, about 8:30am at starbucks, our filtered water simply stopped working. this meant no coffee, no hot tea, and no espresso drinks, including no steamed milk, as all the machines that we use to make the drinks are directly connected to the filtered water system. we were, however, capable of the following: pastries, iced tea and iced tea lemonades at full strength, iced chai, iced coffee, and frappuccinos... at least until the ingredients ran out, as filtered water is required to make prep for them. as luck would have it, today was also national coffee break day, which meant that we were giving away free coffee from 10am to 12pm. with no coffee brewing capabilities. fuuuuun.
as a result, 2 hours of my day went something like this:
customer: i'd like a venti latte with nonf--...
me: (interrupting), i'm afraid we can't make lattes right now. there is a sign on the front door explaining that our filtered water system stopped working this morning, meaning that we can't make brewed coffee, though my partner is demoing some on the floor, and we can't use our espresso machines.
customer: so your espresso machine's not working?
me: no, it's working. it's just directly connected to the filtered water system, and there's no way around this fact. without filtered water, it can't produce espresso shots or steam milk.
customer: (annoyed) oh. so what can you make?
me: we can make iced chai, frappuccinos, iced tea, and iced coffee, because none of these require filtered water or steamed milk. if you want coffee, we're giving it away for free, and if none of those work, i can direct you to the nearest starbucks about a mile down the street.
customer: oh. so can you make me a caramel macchiato?
me: no, because the caramel macchiato requires espresso shots.
customer: oh, i see. what about a cappuccino?
me: no, because the cappuccino requires steamed milk.
customer: iced caramel macchiato?
me: no, because we can't make espresso.
customer: well... can you blend the caramel macchiato?
me: it would taste similar to the caramel frappuccino, and we can make those if you'd like. if not, we have free coffee behind you.
customer: okay, i'll take that.
*pounds head against wall. repeatedly.*
i like my job, but i'm tired of having a degree and having to deal with people of this sort all day long.
i was surprised by two things in today's saga of disheartening lessons about the human race. namely:
1. people refused free shit. okay, so maybe coffee isn't your favorite, or maybe you haven't tried it. it's free. i'd try it for that very reason, and if i didn't like it, that would be okay. no skin off my nose, because it didn't cost me anything!!
2. people really get upset if they have to vary from their usual routine. and also, they have no idea what goes into their drinks. so to those who think they're cool because they have a complicated drink: please shut up, because really you don't know anything. if you continue to ask for lattes and cafe au laits after i've explained to you that we have neither espresso-making capabilities nor milk-steaming abilities, you really don't know what constitutes the drink. in which case, just ask! i love talking about it; it's one of the few highlights of my dreary existence. we go through weeks of training and months of perfecting our skills (seriously, we're nerdy enough to argue about this and compete for title of most glorious foam... mine's pretty good, i'll have you know), and we'll gladly talk about it if you sincerely don't know what's in it. at least know the difference between a macchiato and a cappuccino... it's good to know.
my days living a latte-free existence during lent have truly given me an appreciation for black coffee and the doppio. and also, my next boyfriend needs to love coffee.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
on God, control, and the laborious process of moving on
"when one door closes, another one opens."
or so the saying goes.
"There was utter silence all around me. And now for the first time I knew what I had been doing. While I was reading, it had, once and again, seemed strange to me that the reading took so long; for the book was a small one. Now I knew that I had been reading it over and over – perhaps a dozen times. I would have read it forever, quick as I could, starting the first word again almost before the last was out of my mouth, if the judge had not stopped me. And the voice I read it in was strange to my ears. There was given to me a certainty that this, at last, was my real voice."
-c.s. lewis, till we have faces
i love this part of the story. for those who don't know, i wrote my senior thesis on it. it seemed appropriate, since i first read it in 8th grade and my understanding of the world has changed considerably since then.
i suppose i identify with orual. she's reading her complaints about the various injustices of her life to the gods, and she realizes that it never mattered that the world was unjust to her. somehow, she came in with a sense of entitlement. it's at this moment in the book that she sees her true self. that all her complaints never mattered to begin with. she keeps insisting that it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, but she doesn't move on until she realizes that what's fair and unfair to her is insignificant. how she reacts is. nobody will ever find it fair. acceptance of one's inability to change this or to change other people is significant.
a few weeks ago, i received an email. i didn't expect it and i still don't know how to respond to it, or even if i can respond to it. i think that when i'm honest with myself, it makes me a bit angry. it wasn't an apology or anything. perhaps it was just an attempt to move on, or to prove a point to me. but it came out of the bluest of blue depths. 4 months and no words after the fact.
when that obnoxious day that has burnt itself in the depths of my brain came last fall, i resorted to all the usual feelings. it's not fair, i didn't deserve it, i can't believe it, i thought it would be different this time, why is this happening to me. all the same questions, all over again. and i suppose it is fair that he told me that he wasn't happy before we went any further, but i do know that i didn't deserve it; i think most would agree that i deserved better.
they say that you can't control other people, just how your respond to them.
i've learned a great deal about this statement. it occurred to me that it didn't really matter what was and wasn't fair. it is what it is. i believe in a just God. and i believe in a faithful God. just because i wanted it to be different or better doesn't mean that He has to make it that way. He gives and takes away, according to His will, whether or not i find it fair. who am i to decide fair?
of my break-ups, this one has been the most liberating. orual stopped complaining when she realized that she couldn't control everything. i finally realized that beating the ground was also accepting defeat, and that constantly repeating to myself that it was so so so unfair was only driving me mad. fair or unfair, i had to change my approach. so i did, and it was difficult and painful and all the rest. but moving on has come far more naturally this time around. and the constant need to be with someone has begun to dissipate. for the first time since i was 16, i can honestly say that i'm okay with this, that i might actually prefer this.
as much as i love my faith, the church bothers me because all my years of growing up have instilled in me that i'm somehow incomplete until i find someone to fill the void. like marriage will be my miracle drug, and that when i meet him, i'll know. like i'm searching the world for the missing pieces of myself. since last september, this concept has perplexed me. why am i looking so hard, and why do i feel compelled to think of that as the beginning of my life. am i ignorant or just somebody that was meant to be alone? i like to think that my heart burns too much for relationship for this to be the case, but my attitude towards relationships is cynical at best. i'm so jaded by the supreme laziness i've experienced.
fair or unfair, right or wrong, things have changed. i'm of the opinion and joy is a choice we all make. i can run around asking why or i can accept that what is, simply is, and choose to let go. everything happens for a reason, and i've given up trying to understand why or why not. i'm only as stuck as i choose to be. life requires proactivity. in the spirit of joy and choosing it, i am grateful that all this has happened. it surprises me sometimes that this process has revealed so many anti-me characteristics. i'm more guarded, and i find that i care less. not so much that i would use another person, but enough that i can say done is done is done is done, and forget it. i don't like not caring, but i do like not getting hurt anymore. You have a purpose. damned if i know what it is, but i'm choosing to not look too hard for it. i'm sure it will be, in the most cosmic sense, more fair than any way i could envision it.
or so the saying goes.
"There was utter silence all around me. And now for the first time I knew what I had been doing. While I was reading, it had, once and again, seemed strange to me that the reading took so long; for the book was a small one. Now I knew that I had been reading it over and over – perhaps a dozen times. I would have read it forever, quick as I could, starting the first word again almost before the last was out of my mouth, if the judge had not stopped me. And the voice I read it in was strange to my ears. There was given to me a certainty that this, at last, was my real voice."
-c.s. lewis, till we have faces
i love this part of the story. for those who don't know, i wrote my senior thesis on it. it seemed appropriate, since i first read it in 8th grade and my understanding of the world has changed considerably since then.
i suppose i identify with orual. she's reading her complaints about the various injustices of her life to the gods, and she realizes that it never mattered that the world was unjust to her. somehow, she came in with a sense of entitlement. it's at this moment in the book that she sees her true self. that all her complaints never mattered to begin with. she keeps insisting that it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, but she doesn't move on until she realizes that what's fair and unfair to her is insignificant. how she reacts is. nobody will ever find it fair. acceptance of one's inability to change this or to change other people is significant.
a few weeks ago, i received an email. i didn't expect it and i still don't know how to respond to it, or even if i can respond to it. i think that when i'm honest with myself, it makes me a bit angry. it wasn't an apology or anything. perhaps it was just an attempt to move on, or to prove a point to me. but it came out of the bluest of blue depths. 4 months and no words after the fact.
when that obnoxious day that has burnt itself in the depths of my brain came last fall, i resorted to all the usual feelings. it's not fair, i didn't deserve it, i can't believe it, i thought it would be different this time, why is this happening to me. all the same questions, all over again. and i suppose it is fair that he told me that he wasn't happy before we went any further, but i do know that i didn't deserve it; i think most would agree that i deserved better.
they say that you can't control other people, just how your respond to them.
i've learned a great deal about this statement. it occurred to me that it didn't really matter what was and wasn't fair. it is what it is. i believe in a just God. and i believe in a faithful God. just because i wanted it to be different or better doesn't mean that He has to make it that way. He gives and takes away, according to His will, whether or not i find it fair. who am i to decide fair?
of my break-ups, this one has been the most liberating. orual stopped complaining when she realized that she couldn't control everything. i finally realized that beating the ground was also accepting defeat, and that constantly repeating to myself that it was so so so unfair was only driving me mad. fair or unfair, i had to change my approach. so i did, and it was difficult and painful and all the rest. but moving on has come far more naturally this time around. and the constant need to be with someone has begun to dissipate. for the first time since i was 16, i can honestly say that i'm okay with this, that i might actually prefer this.
as much as i love my faith, the church bothers me because all my years of growing up have instilled in me that i'm somehow incomplete until i find someone to fill the void. like marriage will be my miracle drug, and that when i meet him, i'll know. like i'm searching the world for the missing pieces of myself. since last september, this concept has perplexed me. why am i looking so hard, and why do i feel compelled to think of that as the beginning of my life. am i ignorant or just somebody that was meant to be alone? i like to think that my heart burns too much for relationship for this to be the case, but my attitude towards relationships is cynical at best. i'm so jaded by the supreme laziness i've experienced.
fair or unfair, right or wrong, things have changed. i'm of the opinion and joy is a choice we all make. i can run around asking why or i can accept that what is, simply is, and choose to let go. everything happens for a reason, and i've given up trying to understand why or why not. i'm only as stuck as i choose to be. life requires proactivity. in the spirit of joy and choosing it, i am grateful that all this has happened. it surprises me sometimes that this process has revealed so many anti-me characteristics. i'm more guarded, and i find that i care less. not so much that i would use another person, but enough that i can say done is done is done is done, and forget it. i don't like not caring, but i do like not getting hurt anymore. You have a purpose. damned if i know what it is, but i'm choosing to not look too hard for it. i'm sure it will be, in the most cosmic sense, more fair than any way i could envision it.
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