What happens when the season around you is not the same as the season within you? How are you to proceed when it's winter outside but springtime in your heart, or summer outside but winter within?
I am experiencing such a juxtaposition in this current season of my life, and I've had a discovery which I hope will be helpful to others in navigating the seasons of their life.
At the time of this writing, it is mid-June, and I find myself still at the beginning of a beautiful, Chicago summer, with its blissful sunbeams and the perfect combination of cool and warmth blended in the breeze boasting of promise and long-awaited rest. Everybody in Chicago loves the summer. It's what keeps so many of us here to endure what often feels like a never-ending winter (and a sometimes brutal one at that). So why is it that this summer I couldn't be happier for summer to be over? I daresay it has to do with my internal season.
If you have read any of my previous posts from the past few months, you may be able to infer that the earlier months of this year, those of the winter, actually, were quite a marvelous season for me, given the abundance of life and fulfillment that I was experiencing in the gifts that God had provided for me. Aside from the fact that I have a special place in my heart for snow, I am convinced that my experience of the physical season of winter was tempered by the incredible springtime bursting with new life and hope within my soul and spirit. The springtime (or summer) of my soul brought the flowering of new love, and with it, several new experiences through which God brought immense fulfillment and healing to some very deep parts of me.
As with all seasons, however, some plants survive, while others do not. Externally, winter was turning to spring while whispering wistfully of the summer that would come. Internally, I felt a swift cold front and all that naturally follows.
I was crying to God recently, lamenting all of the pain that I have been experiencing both with the death of this relationship and the ebb of other friendships and landmarks that have been very life-giving to me during my time here in Chicago. I was reckoning the fact that I am going to be leaving this place in a matter of months to begin a new journey in New York City, and while excited for the implications of that new journey, I was keenly aware of the deep loss that will accompany such a relocation. I experienced such a relocation 5 years ago, moving from Houston, TX to Chicago, IL for further pursuit of original theatre work, and while the rewards have been many and worth the cost, the loss and pain preceding the prize was immense. What was adding to my grief and frustration in the midst of my lament before God was the acute awareness of summer, with its festivals, its light, the myriad of joy in fellowship that it always brings...and the fact that my internal temperature was incongruent.
That same night, not long after, God spoke to me gently, saying, "David, this is a winter for you. You just came out of a glorious season, and it was beautiful in its time. Even so, this is a different season characterized by things dying so that other things can grow in their place when the next season begins. Embrace the season, knowing that it is not going to be easy, nor is it supposed to be---death and goodbyes are not fun---and you will experience greater peace in the midst of it."
Was God being morbid? No, I don't think so. He speaks often of the joy that we can have in the midst of abundance or lack and the joy that his presence brings whatever the circumstances. Just see the Psalms or any of Paul's writings for such descriptions. No, it wasn't morbidity that God was after when speaking to me about this season of death, but rather a mature, face-to-face look at the reality as it stood (and stands) at the present moment. This is not going to be easy, and my life is slowly shutting down in this place, so I should proceed in a manner appropriate to the season. You don't plant new seed in the middle of winter or expect a harvest in the middle of a snowstorm. (Yes, anything is possible with God, but I am speaking generally right now.) Funny enough, I did have more peace after recognizing this season and accepting it. Did I receive comfort in that moment? No. But I did receive some peace...and a bit of hope.
Accepting the season as a winter released me from feeling guilty about my lack of festivity and gaiety over the season of summer. It's summer on the outside, and while I will try to enjoy of it what I can, I need not feel bad about wanting it to be over. What I am experiencing is a normal progression, and God is with me in that, not expecting me to be in a place that I am not.
Here is the main reason this gives me such hope. If I am currently in a winter, that means that a springtime is coming soon when ice melts and new life bursts forth with the brilliance of a sunrise after a long, cold night. Ironically, my internal springtime will come in an external season which has always been so life-giving to me, that of the fall--also coinciding with my birthday, celebrating my third decade. What a perfect picture of death and rebirth, the ending of one year and the beginning of another.
Solomon had it right when he said that there is a time for everything, a season for every activity under the sun. I encourage you to consider what season you may be in right now and to ponder how you might work with that season, not against it. Would you wear a wintercoat in the heat of the summer? Or shorts in the winter? Check your soul...and if you can't figure out what season you're in, there is One who knows the weather of your life much better than you or I ever could. He can calm a storm in an instant, calling for peace until you current passage ends and a new one begins. Just ask Jesus. He might even invite you for drink of chai...and chai is good for every season. ;-)
" A Time for Everything
3 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace."
-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Imposter Emotions or How to Walk on Water
Imposters...What comes to your mind when you hear that? An image of unwanted guests breaking into your living space? Somebody hacking into your private information on a computer or other electronic device? How about an emotion?
Yes, you read correctly. Have you ever thought of emotions as imposters? I don't mean all emotions of course, as we all know that emotions are a normal and healthy part of the human life. But what if some emotions that are valid some of the time are, in fact, not valid all of the time? What if some are not actually ours to carry when they come? This is what I want to explore today, as I have had a recent discovery in this area that may be immensely helpful for anyone reading this. Sound interesting? Read on!
The modern (or post-modern), Western society of which I am a part seems to have gotten a very good grip on diagnosing emotions as a normal, healthy part of life as we know it, whereby the more we can be honest with what we are feeling, the better we can assess what is going on and how to move forward. Feeling joy? Be joyful! Feeling sorrow? Perhaps it is time to embrace that sorrow and grieve so that the emotion can have its proper place and joy can come again. But what of times when we feel something like sorrow, grief, or immense fear, seemingly out of no where and are suddenly ambushed by a barrage of negative feelings? Have you ever felt yourself crushed like this, and the more you flailed, the deeper you began to sink in the emotional quicksand, with what felt like little hope of getting out? I have. It is times like these that I think the imposters have come in, and the more sudden the relief, the greater the sign that it was an imposter emotion in the first place. Let me explain.
Two days ago, I read an email that triggered some negative emotions for me. Normal right? Yes, emotional triggers can be quite normal, especially when we are in a process of healing and some of our heartstrings are still tender in areas. However, the intensity of the emotions that I was feeling after being triggered was way beyond what felt appropriate given what I was reacting to and the real scenario at hand. It was as if I had taken a medical cocktail from Dr. Jekyll's personal stash, with sudden, swirling side effects of extreme pain, fear, and an incredibly intense desire to escape with little hope that anything I could do woud help. Sound crazy? It was. I had no reason to feel those intense emotions at that time, especially given what I was reacting to and the reality at hand. Soon enough, I realized that these emotions were not valid for those moments, as opposed to other difficult emotions that I had worked through in a previous grieving period. These, unlike those healthy emotions, were what I am calling the imposters; emotions that make us feel they are in their rightful place yet have no right to enter or stay where they have intruded.
You may now be asking, "How is he so sure that these were lying emotions? Sometimes we just feel what we feel."
Sometimes, yes. But sometimes, no...not at all. Here is part of why I think these were lying emotions and how we can expose them for what they are, towards removing them from where they are not welcome.
1. Healthy emotions, those in their rightful place, are productive. Whether joyful or painful, when we are experiencing emotions in the right way, I have found that they lead to something worthwhile. For instance, if the valid emotion is sorrow or deep grief, experiencing the grief and processing through it (whether through crying, ruminating, or whatever else) typically brings one to a place of release where what's necessary has been felt and the next wave of positive emotions like joy can enter again. Imposters, on the other hand, are not productive at all. They simply keep one stuck in an extreme with no promise of progressing towards something on the other end. This experience that I had the other day was just that.
2. Imposters exaggerate reality and twist it into something much larger than it actually is, making us feel small in the midst of whatever is being imposed upon us. These imposters are often fed when we give into speculation, feeding imaginations of what could be in a scenario (often negative) and what might have happened or will happen, versus looking at whatever facts are known. Healthy emotions, in my experience, often interact with what is known. Imposters, by contrast, offer heaps of the unknown, often presenting worse-case scenarios to partner with our imagination in one of the most destructive of ways. (I am speaking mainly of imposter emotions that mirror the negative. Those which mirror the positive would be best served by another discussion.)
3. Imposter emotions can be rid of quickly when they are dealt with as such. When we expose imposter emotions for what they are, we can readily kick them out, and the result is an expedient, marked shift in one's emotional atmosphere. The quick sand is suddenly dry ground, the tempestuous sky once riddled with dark clouds is surprisingly clear, and the light that has penetrated makes way for clarity of thought and vision. What was overwhelming moments before now seems preposterous, out of place, unnecessary.
How are we to deal with these imposters? As with many of my posts before, I would like to draw upon the wisdom of an age-old text here, one that has proven fruitful in helping me navigate life's complexities on multiple levels. The truth is that the way I got out of the clutches of the imposters I spoke of was by calling out to others and to Jesus in prayer. I have found Jesus to be very effective at driving out imposters, which in my belief sometimes equate with evil, harassing spirits, and other times turn out to be simply lying emotions. More often than not, I think it is a combination of the two. Regardless of what you believe the source of of imposter emotions is, here are two things that I did, both of which are based on practical, spiritual principals from the Bible.
1. Reach out for help. Isolation is a great envrionment for imposter emotions to continue their assault. King David, who experienced a great deal of hardship both before and during his kingship, wrote this in one of his songs to God:
"I have set the Lord always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken." -Psalm 16:8
Rather than isolating and looking inward, David would remember to look outside of himself to the presence of the One who was with him, even at his right hand. Sometimes this looks like reaching out to others to pray for us or encourage us as an extension of God's presence in our life.
2. Expose the lie, cast it down, and declare what's true. Remember what I wrote earlier about speculation and how imposter emotions often feed us heaping spoonfuls of the unknown? It's the equivalent of chewing on gravel; it hurts our teeth, can make us choke, and does nothing good for our digestive system. Speculative rumination is not productive. So determine what the speculations are, declare instead what is known and what is true, and tell those speculations to leave, that they no longer have any power to dominate with their phantom truths. Truth always overpowers the lie when truth is upheld. Often it is helpful or even required to have someone else work with us in separating the truth from the lies in a situation. Jesus is immensely helpful in this. Check out what he did for his friend and disciple Peter when Peter and the other disciples were taken aback by the sight of Jesus walking on the water:
"But Jesus immediately said to them: 'Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.'
'Lord, if it’s you,' Peter replied, 'tell me to come to you on the water.'
'Come,' he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, 'Lord, save me!'
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. 'You of little faith,' he said, 'why did you doubt?' " -Matthew 14:27-31
There is so much to mine from this, but for our purpose here, I will simply point out that Peter was in a risky situation, allowed imposter emotions to get the better of him, and Jesus remedied that by catching him when he was sinking...IMMEDIATELY. Isn't that great? For those who look to Jesus, he will immediately catch us when we cry out to him. Often, he does bring us into situations that can naturally bring doubt, fear, or other difficult emotions. But none of these remain valid when Jesus is leading us into a situation as he was here, because we are safe with him. Jesus is king over fear.
Paul, who wrote much of the New Testament and experienced hardship after hardship, also knew the power of speculation and the greater power of bringing speculation to Jesus:
"We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ." -2 Corinthians 10:5
Once again, there is an emphasis on contrasting the unknown with the known, "speculations" versus "knowledge," and bringing speculation under the authority of one who can do something about it. That's what I did, with the help of my brother as we prayed on the phone the other day. The shift that took place was remarkable.
Wherever you are approaching this from, whether a purely naturalistic standpoint or including the spiritual as I have done (which I believe is the more holistic and complete route to full freedom in these areas), I would like to ask you, what imposter emotions might you be allowing in your life right now? What is valid for the present, and what is no longer necessary for your current emotional journey? And who is there to help you to expose the imposters? Who can you call out to? Might you see Jesus out there, seeking water-walkers like himself?
See you on the water.
Yes, you read correctly. Have you ever thought of emotions as imposters? I don't mean all emotions of course, as we all know that emotions are a normal and healthy part of the human life. But what if some emotions that are valid some of the time are, in fact, not valid all of the time? What if some are not actually ours to carry when they come? This is what I want to explore today, as I have had a recent discovery in this area that may be immensely helpful for anyone reading this. Sound interesting? Read on!
The modern (or post-modern), Western society of which I am a part seems to have gotten a very good grip on diagnosing emotions as a normal, healthy part of life as we know it, whereby the more we can be honest with what we are feeling, the better we can assess what is going on and how to move forward. Feeling joy? Be joyful! Feeling sorrow? Perhaps it is time to embrace that sorrow and grieve so that the emotion can have its proper place and joy can come again. But what of times when we feel something like sorrow, grief, or immense fear, seemingly out of no where and are suddenly ambushed by a barrage of negative feelings? Have you ever felt yourself crushed like this, and the more you flailed, the deeper you began to sink in the emotional quicksand, with what felt like little hope of getting out? I have. It is times like these that I think the imposters have come in, and the more sudden the relief, the greater the sign that it was an imposter emotion in the first place. Let me explain.
Two days ago, I read an email that triggered some negative emotions for me. Normal right? Yes, emotional triggers can be quite normal, especially when we are in a process of healing and some of our heartstrings are still tender in areas. However, the intensity of the emotions that I was feeling after being triggered was way beyond what felt appropriate given what I was reacting to and the real scenario at hand. It was as if I had taken a medical cocktail from Dr. Jekyll's personal stash, with sudden, swirling side effects of extreme pain, fear, and an incredibly intense desire to escape with little hope that anything I could do woud help. Sound crazy? It was. I had no reason to feel those intense emotions at that time, especially given what I was reacting to and the reality at hand. Soon enough, I realized that these emotions were not valid for those moments, as opposed to other difficult emotions that I had worked through in a previous grieving period. These, unlike those healthy emotions, were what I am calling the imposters; emotions that make us feel they are in their rightful place yet have no right to enter or stay where they have intruded.
You may now be asking, "How is he so sure that these were lying emotions? Sometimes we just feel what we feel."
Sometimes, yes. But sometimes, no...not at all. Here is part of why I think these were lying emotions and how we can expose them for what they are, towards removing them from where they are not welcome.
1. Healthy emotions, those in their rightful place, are productive. Whether joyful or painful, when we are experiencing emotions in the right way, I have found that they lead to something worthwhile. For instance, if the valid emotion is sorrow or deep grief, experiencing the grief and processing through it (whether through crying, ruminating, or whatever else) typically brings one to a place of release where what's necessary has been felt and the next wave of positive emotions like joy can enter again. Imposters, on the other hand, are not productive at all. They simply keep one stuck in an extreme with no promise of progressing towards something on the other end. This experience that I had the other day was just that.
2. Imposters exaggerate reality and twist it into something much larger than it actually is, making us feel small in the midst of whatever is being imposed upon us. These imposters are often fed when we give into speculation, feeding imaginations of what could be in a scenario (often negative) and what might have happened or will happen, versus looking at whatever facts are known. Healthy emotions, in my experience, often interact with what is known. Imposters, by contrast, offer heaps of the unknown, often presenting worse-case scenarios to partner with our imagination in one of the most destructive of ways. (I am speaking mainly of imposter emotions that mirror the negative. Those which mirror the positive would be best served by another discussion.)
3. Imposter emotions can be rid of quickly when they are dealt with as such. When we expose imposter emotions for what they are, we can readily kick them out, and the result is an expedient, marked shift in one's emotional atmosphere. The quick sand is suddenly dry ground, the tempestuous sky once riddled with dark clouds is surprisingly clear, and the light that has penetrated makes way for clarity of thought and vision. What was overwhelming moments before now seems preposterous, out of place, unnecessary.
How are we to deal with these imposters? As with many of my posts before, I would like to draw upon the wisdom of an age-old text here, one that has proven fruitful in helping me navigate life's complexities on multiple levels. The truth is that the way I got out of the clutches of the imposters I spoke of was by calling out to others and to Jesus in prayer. I have found Jesus to be very effective at driving out imposters, which in my belief sometimes equate with evil, harassing spirits, and other times turn out to be simply lying emotions. More often than not, I think it is a combination of the two. Regardless of what you believe the source of of imposter emotions is, here are two things that I did, both of which are based on practical, spiritual principals from the Bible.
1. Reach out for help. Isolation is a great envrionment for imposter emotions to continue their assault. King David, who experienced a great deal of hardship both before and during his kingship, wrote this in one of his songs to God:
"I have set the Lord always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken." -Psalm 16:8
Rather than isolating and looking inward, David would remember to look outside of himself to the presence of the One who was with him, even at his right hand. Sometimes this looks like reaching out to others to pray for us or encourage us as an extension of God's presence in our life.
2. Expose the lie, cast it down, and declare what's true. Remember what I wrote earlier about speculation and how imposter emotions often feed us heaping spoonfuls of the unknown? It's the equivalent of chewing on gravel; it hurts our teeth, can make us choke, and does nothing good for our digestive system. Speculative rumination is not productive. So determine what the speculations are, declare instead what is known and what is true, and tell those speculations to leave, that they no longer have any power to dominate with their phantom truths. Truth always overpowers the lie when truth is upheld. Often it is helpful or even required to have someone else work with us in separating the truth from the lies in a situation. Jesus is immensely helpful in this. Check out what he did for his friend and disciple Peter when Peter and the other disciples were taken aback by the sight of Jesus walking on the water:
"But Jesus immediately said to them: 'Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.'
'Lord, if it’s you,' Peter replied, 'tell me to come to you on the water.'
'Come,' he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, 'Lord, save me!'
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. 'You of little faith,' he said, 'why did you doubt?' " -Matthew 14:27-31
There is so much to mine from this, but for our purpose here, I will simply point out that Peter was in a risky situation, allowed imposter emotions to get the better of him, and Jesus remedied that by catching him when he was sinking...IMMEDIATELY. Isn't that great? For those who look to Jesus, he will immediately catch us when we cry out to him. Often, he does bring us into situations that can naturally bring doubt, fear, or other difficult emotions. But none of these remain valid when Jesus is leading us into a situation as he was here, because we are safe with him. Jesus is king over fear.
Paul, who wrote much of the New Testament and experienced hardship after hardship, also knew the power of speculation and the greater power of bringing speculation to Jesus:
"We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ." -2 Corinthians 10:5
Once again, there is an emphasis on contrasting the unknown with the known, "speculations" versus "knowledge," and bringing speculation under the authority of one who can do something about it. That's what I did, with the help of my brother as we prayed on the phone the other day. The shift that took place was remarkable.
Wherever you are approaching this from, whether a purely naturalistic standpoint or including the spiritual as I have done (which I believe is the more holistic and complete route to full freedom in these areas), I would like to ask you, what imposter emotions might you be allowing in your life right now? What is valid for the present, and what is no longer necessary for your current emotional journey? And who is there to help you to expose the imposters? Who can you call out to? Might you see Jesus out there, seeking water-walkers like himself?
See you on the water.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Gatsby, Love, Death, and the Elusive, Green Light
Last night I saw Baz Luhrmann's mesmerizing film adaptation of The Great Gatsby, and given the state of transition that I find myself in currently, the film struck many chords in my heart and mind on multiple levels. I was particularly impacted by what the film seemed to say about the perils of holding to the past too tightly in an attempt to prolong something that is no longer relevant to the present. This I would like to explore with some thoughts from my own musings with God in the Bible the past few days, and a U2 reference thrown in for good measure. If this sounds like interesting food for thought, please, join me as I digress.
For those of you familiar with the book by F. Scott Fitzgerald or who have recently seen the new film adaption (or the old one, for that matter, though I don't know how good it is), the affluent Gatsby spends an incredible amount of time, thought, and personal resource towards reclaiming a past love that in his mind is meant to be his again. (Spoiler alert, important info coming up, fyi.) However, as the story unfolds and Gatsby's plans play themselves out, he is left with little more than a fleeting phantom of the love that he once shared with the ethereal yet earth-bound Daisy. Ultimately, Gatsby's attempts to recreate and reform a fractured past disintegrate in a beautifully tragic sequence of his great love retreating back into herself, away from Gatsby and the subsequent death of our tragic hero. Were this a Greek tragedy, we might say that hope, while his greatest strength, also turned out to be Gatsby's tragic flaw, the hamartia leading to the hero's impending death. Much like Gatsby's fixation upon the green light across the water, flashing on and off in the distance signaling the hope of a dream deferred yet sought after again, so also the object of his desire in Daisy proved to be a waning light, on, then off, beckoning in the distance, yet never to remain steady.
Okay, are you depressed yet? If so, this is not my intent, but I suppose you may be feeling the weight of the above scenario as I am as I write this. Thus, I would like to introduce the hope. If hope can be a flaw, a hope to reclaim a past that is no longer supposed to be or able to be, then where is the place for present hope? I believe it comes in putting the past to death and beginning a new journey, letting the green light fade, and finding a new direction in which to focus one's gaze. Some may take this to mean something relationally, as if I were implying that this is simply about saying goodbye to and old season of love and finding a new object of affection to fixate upon. While this can certainly be the case, I think the concept of hope in a new direction applies in a much broader way. It has to do with new experiences, a new ways of living, being, new environments and circumstances, and a willingness to leave the familiars of the past in order to step into these fresh gifts with eyes and heart clear and open. We've got to leave the state that U2 so poignantly sings about with in their album All That You Can't Leave Behind: "You've got to get yourself together. You got stuck in a moment, and you can't get out of it."
I was in a food establishment recently where I had heard the chai was most excellent, and the time of day finally allowed me test that mettle of this praise. To my great delight, the accolade that this chai had received was well deserved, and I felt supremely blessed to have to found another good place in Chicago to enjoy really GOOD chai (something the quality of which is quite hard to find in a restaurant or cafe). Why do I bring this up? Well, in this time, I was reminded of the rewards that can come with risk in seeking out new avenues of sustenance, new environments and opportunities to engage with which can sometimes only be experienced if one is willing to step out of a comfort zone and risk the disappointment or pleasure that the unfamiliar may provide. In this case, the unfamiliar was Native Foods Cafe, a place that I was familiar with in so far as their Vegan chili (Vegan though I am not), yet not certain as to whether or not the chai would meet my expectations. I am thankful that it did. In that same environment, I was also met with another experience which further affirmed this venture into change. The waitress asked me later if I wanted a refill, to which I replied, "Surely it is not a free refill since it is chai, right?" I was pleasantly mistaken, and upon savoring the substance of another round of that heavenly liquid, I thought how in life God also provides us re-fills once our cup is empty (or almost empty), and how in order for a refill to take place, an emptying to some degree must precede it.
Empty your cup. Give it to Jesus for a refill. The old was good, but it's gone. Time for something fresh. New light. New, green light.........GO.
“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; otherwise the patch pulls away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear results.22“No one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost and the skins as well; but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins.” -Jesus, in Mark 2:21-22
"You've got to get yourself together.
You've got stuck in a moment,
and you can't get out of it.
Don't say that later will be better.
Now you're stuck in a moment,
and you can't get out of it." - U2, from their album All That You Can't Leave Behind
“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning-- So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
For those of you familiar with the book by F. Scott Fitzgerald or who have recently seen the new film adaption (or the old one, for that matter, though I don't know how good it is), the affluent Gatsby spends an incredible amount of time, thought, and personal resource towards reclaiming a past love that in his mind is meant to be his again. (Spoiler alert, important info coming up, fyi.) However, as the story unfolds and Gatsby's plans play themselves out, he is left with little more than a fleeting phantom of the love that he once shared with the ethereal yet earth-bound Daisy. Ultimately, Gatsby's attempts to recreate and reform a fractured past disintegrate in a beautifully tragic sequence of his great love retreating back into herself, away from Gatsby and the subsequent death of our tragic hero. Were this a Greek tragedy, we might say that hope, while his greatest strength, also turned out to be Gatsby's tragic flaw, the hamartia leading to the hero's impending death. Much like Gatsby's fixation upon the green light across the water, flashing on and off in the distance signaling the hope of a dream deferred yet sought after again, so also the object of his desire in Daisy proved to be a waning light, on, then off, beckoning in the distance, yet never to remain steady.
Okay, are you depressed yet? If so, this is not my intent, but I suppose you may be feeling the weight of the above scenario as I am as I write this. Thus, I would like to introduce the hope. If hope can be a flaw, a hope to reclaim a past that is no longer supposed to be or able to be, then where is the place for present hope? I believe it comes in putting the past to death and beginning a new journey, letting the green light fade, and finding a new direction in which to focus one's gaze. Some may take this to mean something relationally, as if I were implying that this is simply about saying goodbye to and old season of love and finding a new object of affection to fixate upon. While this can certainly be the case, I think the concept of hope in a new direction applies in a much broader way. It has to do with new experiences, a new ways of living, being, new environments and circumstances, and a willingness to leave the familiars of the past in order to step into these fresh gifts with eyes and heart clear and open. We've got to leave the state that U2 so poignantly sings about with in their album All That You Can't Leave Behind: "You've got to get yourself together. You got stuck in a moment, and you can't get out of it."
I was in a food establishment recently where I had heard the chai was most excellent, and the time of day finally allowed me test that mettle of this praise. To my great delight, the accolade that this chai had received was well deserved, and I felt supremely blessed to have to found another good place in Chicago to enjoy really GOOD chai (something the quality of which is quite hard to find in a restaurant or cafe). Why do I bring this up? Well, in this time, I was reminded of the rewards that can come with risk in seeking out new avenues of sustenance, new environments and opportunities to engage with which can sometimes only be experienced if one is willing to step out of a comfort zone and risk the disappointment or pleasure that the unfamiliar may provide. In this case, the unfamiliar was Native Foods Cafe, a place that I was familiar with in so far as their Vegan chili (Vegan though I am not), yet not certain as to whether or not the chai would meet my expectations. I am thankful that it did. In that same environment, I was also met with another experience which further affirmed this venture into change. The waitress asked me later if I wanted a refill, to which I replied, "Surely it is not a free refill since it is chai, right?" I was pleasantly mistaken, and upon savoring the substance of another round of that heavenly liquid, I thought how in life God also provides us re-fills once our cup is empty (or almost empty), and how in order for a refill to take place, an emptying to some degree must precede it.
Empty your cup. Give it to Jesus for a refill. The old was good, but it's gone. Time for something fresh. New light. New, green light.........GO.
“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment; otherwise the patch pulls away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear results.22“No one puts new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost and the skins as well; but one puts new wine into fresh wineskins.” -Jesus, in Mark 2:21-22
"You've got to get yourself together.
You've got stuck in a moment,
and you can't get out of it.
Don't say that later will be better.
Now you're stuck in a moment,
and you can't get out of it." - U2, from their album All That You Can't Leave Behind
“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning-- So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Friday, March 29, 2013
The LOVE of God
Love. Romance. Passion. God? "One of these things is not like the other..." Or is it?
Today I want to explore the parallels between human romance and the love of God. I am not planning to cover the various categories of love and their distinctions (for that, I highly recommend The Four Loves in which C.S. Lewis has done an excellent job). Instead, I'd like to take some observations that I've made from own recent romance and how I believe they apply to God's love for us. When I say God, I refer to Jesus, Holy Spirit, and of course, the Father, whom many in the Judeo-Christian world often think of as "God." I am using God as a blanket statement for all three persons of this trinity as I see him. So, let's begin!
I don't typically use bullet points for my blog posts, but bullets seem fitting for this one. So here are a few observations I've made on the connection between romantic love and God's love for us human beings.
1. Love creates a deep longing to be with the other. In my own romantic relationship, I have noticed a growing desire to spend loads and loads of time with the woman I adore. Her presence is somehow life-giving such that I feel parts of myself coming more alive when I am around her. Of course, the same could be said for how some of us feel about our relationship with God, that his presence is life-giving, and that seems to be a common experience for many whom I talk to who are engaging in an active relationship with God. However, how many of us have thought about our presence as being life-giving to God and him craving to be in relationship with us? The more that I grow in my own relationship with my girlfriend, the more I am convinced that God longs to be with those whom he loves, and he will go at great lengths to make that happen. Look at the cross, for starters. "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, Jesus, that whoever believes in him should not be lost in death but experience life eternal, continually in God's presence for all time."-John 3:16 (paraphrase mine) Yes, I daresay God went to great lengths to spend time with his love and that he goes to great lengths still, though this was the most dramatic, costly and clear demonstration of such love. Amazing. How many of us would give the life of our own pet, much less our own flesh and blood (or ourselves for that matter) to create the opportunity for fellowship with those who might not even love us back? Wow.
2. Love does crazy things, especially when it comes to TIME. I have already touched on one of the crazy things that love has done as relates to God, namely that love makes incredible sacrifices to spend time with the loved one, but how does this translate to one's use of time? It has been my experience that when I am with the one I adore, my awareness of or value for my own time easily goes out the window! I enjoy spending time with this girl so much that one or two hours can easily turn into 4 or 5 without me even realizing that so much time has passed. And the funny thing is that I rarely care that I have continued in fellowship longer than I had intended or planned. The only drawback is that it often means less sleep if I have to wake up early for work the next morning, but even then, this is a sacrifice that feels worth it given the life-giving benefit of spending time with such a beautiful creature. And isn't it the same way with God? I don't know about you, but I have found that God often likes to do things way past the timeframe that I gave him to do it in. For instance, when I was in Edinburgh, Scotland several years ago with a group of internationals to share Jesus with the people of Edinburgh Fringe Fest, I recall getting ready for bed one evening, thinking that the best of the day was behind us, and we'd better get our sleep to prepare for what God might have planned the next day. Apparently, God wasn't finished yet, though it must have been 1:00 in the morning when we felt compelled to pray some group members present. And God did some AMAZING things in that prayer time! I thought, "God, you're crazy! Shouldn't we be getting sleep?" And yes, sometimes we should be. But I find that God is much more of a late person than some of us are at times. So I have begun to try throwing out so many parameters of time when it comes to my own pursuit of God, deciding on occasion to simply "waste time" on him, if it can be called a waste at all. He's worth being pursued. And he loves to pursue us. So why not, even if it's 1:00 in the morning? (The Genesis Creation Story points to each day starting the night before, anyway.)
3. Love is a lavish gift giver. I am betting that many of you reading this right now have also read or heard of a book called The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. (If you haven't, I highly recommend it.) In that book, Chapman refers to different ways in which we as human beings like to express and receive love from one another, whereby certain forms, or "love languages," are preferential to others based on the person. One of my love languages is that of GIFTS! Whenever I receive or give gifts, I feel that something very special is being imparted. Does it have to do with the gift itself? For me, not so much. It is the thought behind it and the fact that somebody, whether God or an actual human being, wants to surprise me (or if I am giving the gift, that I get to surprise someone on the receiving end)! In a romantic context, I have discovered the utter joy of having a gift prepared with a delivery date that the receiver knows nothing about. The gift is in motion, I have paid for it and arranged for its delivery, but it has yet to arrive. And the anticipation I have felt is so great that it is hard for me to keep my mouth shut about the surprise that is coming. This caused me to recognize something about the love of God and his incredibly generous character. God has so much in store for his loved ones, much of which has a designated delivery date some time in the future which we are almost always in the dark about. Often, I myself whine about such gifts, having asked God to bless me with something (a romantic relationship, for example, which he finally did! And when he did, it was primo!) yet not seeing them coming fast enough and wondering if he forgot about me. All the while, God is on the other end going, "I've ordered it! It's coming! It's not there yet, but I know when it's going to arrive. I'm getting it ready, so just wait! It's on its way!!!" This kind of perspective, recognizing that God is eagerly anticipating blessing me in some way, though he and I will both have to wait for its arrival due to factors often unseen by me, has helped me to love God even more and to realize that he is not holding out on me. He's just much more patient. ;-) Of course, sometimes God can't even keep his surprises to himself and gives us a snippet of what he's bringing to us. One example of this is in Isaiah 42:9 when God was telling the Israelites about some incredible things he was about to do: "See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare; before they spring into being I announce them to you." If intimacy grows through confiding in one another, then this is surely one of God's ways of developing his love relationship with us.
I was going to list more axioms of romantic and divine love here, but given the specialness of the number 3, I will stop at that. For those of you who have mused on such lovely connections as these, I would love to read your thoughts. Perhaps I will write a second part to this exploration. For those of you reading this and going, "What? Is he crazy? I've never experienced God in that way, not in a tangible, romantic sense," I encourage you that such a crazy, loving God exists, and he is most clearly seen through the person of Jesus! As I write this on Good Friday, the downward/upward slope to Easter, I urge you to drink what the Giver of Chai is offering. He is not relegated to boring, religious ritual (though religious ritual can certainly help seekers and believers to experience God's presence.) He is, instead, a living, breathing, romantic who desires to drink a cup of chai (or coffee, if that floats your boat) with you. Won't you join him and let him caffeinate your soul? He longs for you and for the incredibly caffeinated, soothing drink that you are. The cross says it all.
Today I want to explore the parallels between human romance and the love of God. I am not planning to cover the various categories of love and their distinctions (for that, I highly recommend The Four Loves in which C.S. Lewis has done an excellent job). Instead, I'd like to take some observations that I've made from own recent romance and how I believe they apply to God's love for us. When I say God, I refer to Jesus, Holy Spirit, and of course, the Father, whom many in the Judeo-Christian world often think of as "God." I am using God as a blanket statement for all three persons of this trinity as I see him. So, let's begin!
I don't typically use bullet points for my blog posts, but bullets seem fitting for this one. So here are a few observations I've made on the connection between romantic love and God's love for us human beings.
1. Love creates a deep longing to be with the other. In my own romantic relationship, I have noticed a growing desire to spend loads and loads of time with the woman I adore. Her presence is somehow life-giving such that I feel parts of myself coming more alive when I am around her. Of course, the same could be said for how some of us feel about our relationship with God, that his presence is life-giving, and that seems to be a common experience for many whom I talk to who are engaging in an active relationship with God. However, how many of us have thought about our presence as being life-giving to God and him craving to be in relationship with us? The more that I grow in my own relationship with my girlfriend, the more I am convinced that God longs to be with those whom he loves, and he will go at great lengths to make that happen. Look at the cross, for starters. "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, Jesus, that whoever believes in him should not be lost in death but experience life eternal, continually in God's presence for all time."-John 3:16 (paraphrase mine) Yes, I daresay God went to great lengths to spend time with his love and that he goes to great lengths still, though this was the most dramatic, costly and clear demonstration of such love. Amazing. How many of us would give the life of our own pet, much less our own flesh and blood (or ourselves for that matter) to create the opportunity for fellowship with those who might not even love us back? Wow.
2. Love does crazy things, especially when it comes to TIME. I have already touched on one of the crazy things that love has done as relates to God, namely that love makes incredible sacrifices to spend time with the loved one, but how does this translate to one's use of time? It has been my experience that when I am with the one I adore, my awareness of or value for my own time easily goes out the window! I enjoy spending time with this girl so much that one or two hours can easily turn into 4 or 5 without me even realizing that so much time has passed. And the funny thing is that I rarely care that I have continued in fellowship longer than I had intended or planned. The only drawback is that it often means less sleep if I have to wake up early for work the next morning, but even then, this is a sacrifice that feels worth it given the life-giving benefit of spending time with such a beautiful creature. And isn't it the same way with God? I don't know about you, but I have found that God often likes to do things way past the timeframe that I gave him to do it in. For instance, when I was in Edinburgh, Scotland several years ago with a group of internationals to share Jesus with the people of Edinburgh Fringe Fest, I recall getting ready for bed one evening, thinking that the best of the day was behind us, and we'd better get our sleep to prepare for what God might have planned the next day. Apparently, God wasn't finished yet, though it must have been 1:00 in the morning when we felt compelled to pray some group members present. And God did some AMAZING things in that prayer time! I thought, "God, you're crazy! Shouldn't we be getting sleep?" And yes, sometimes we should be. But I find that God is much more of a late person than some of us are at times. So I have begun to try throwing out so many parameters of time when it comes to my own pursuit of God, deciding on occasion to simply "waste time" on him, if it can be called a waste at all. He's worth being pursued. And he loves to pursue us. So why not, even if it's 1:00 in the morning? (The Genesis Creation Story points to each day starting the night before, anyway.)
3. Love is a lavish gift giver. I am betting that many of you reading this right now have also read or heard of a book called The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. (If you haven't, I highly recommend it.) In that book, Chapman refers to different ways in which we as human beings like to express and receive love from one another, whereby certain forms, or "love languages," are preferential to others based on the person. One of my love languages is that of GIFTS! Whenever I receive or give gifts, I feel that something very special is being imparted. Does it have to do with the gift itself? For me, not so much. It is the thought behind it and the fact that somebody, whether God or an actual human being, wants to surprise me (or if I am giving the gift, that I get to surprise someone on the receiving end)! In a romantic context, I have discovered the utter joy of having a gift prepared with a delivery date that the receiver knows nothing about. The gift is in motion, I have paid for it and arranged for its delivery, but it has yet to arrive. And the anticipation I have felt is so great that it is hard for me to keep my mouth shut about the surprise that is coming. This caused me to recognize something about the love of God and his incredibly generous character. God has so much in store for his loved ones, much of which has a designated delivery date some time in the future which we are almost always in the dark about. Often, I myself whine about such gifts, having asked God to bless me with something (a romantic relationship, for example, which he finally did! And when he did, it was primo!) yet not seeing them coming fast enough and wondering if he forgot about me. All the while, God is on the other end going, "I've ordered it! It's coming! It's not there yet, but I know when it's going to arrive. I'm getting it ready, so just wait! It's on its way!!!" This kind of perspective, recognizing that God is eagerly anticipating blessing me in some way, though he and I will both have to wait for its arrival due to factors often unseen by me, has helped me to love God even more and to realize that he is not holding out on me. He's just much more patient. ;-) Of course, sometimes God can't even keep his surprises to himself and gives us a snippet of what he's bringing to us. One example of this is in Isaiah 42:9 when God was telling the Israelites about some incredible things he was about to do: "See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare; before they spring into being I announce them to you." If intimacy grows through confiding in one another, then this is surely one of God's ways of developing his love relationship with us.
I was going to list more axioms of romantic and divine love here, but given the specialness of the number 3, I will stop at that. For those of you who have mused on such lovely connections as these, I would love to read your thoughts. Perhaps I will write a second part to this exploration. For those of you reading this and going, "What? Is he crazy? I've never experienced God in that way, not in a tangible, romantic sense," I encourage you that such a crazy, loving God exists, and he is most clearly seen through the person of Jesus! As I write this on Good Friday, the downward/upward slope to Easter, I urge you to drink what the Giver of Chai is offering. He is not relegated to boring, religious ritual (though religious ritual can certainly help seekers and believers to experience God's presence.) He is, instead, a living, breathing, romantic who desires to drink a cup of chai (or coffee, if that floats your boat) with you. Won't you join him and let him caffeinate your soul? He longs for you and for the incredibly caffeinated, soothing drink that you are. The cross says it all.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Paradigm Shift: The Advantage of Loss
I want to talk about a paradigm shift, something that may seem backwards but when applied affects one's whole experience of the world. Here is the thought, direct from the words of Jesus: "Whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but she who loses her life for my sake will save it."
In the society of which I am a part, my peers and I are constantly striving to build upon what we've gained in order to secure the life that we want, and this often means keeping and cultivating what we have already established. This could be as basic as protecting the relationships that form our immediate community or making personal investments in a current job that we like and want to grow in further. It could involve building professional connections in a local sector of an industry (in my case, expanding my network in the local, Chicago theatre scene) and staying rooted in one locality in order to sustain and create credibility for oneself in that industry.
While each of the above scenarios are all good and well in themselves and have their proper place in the development of a thriving human life, I believe there are times when to stay in that "preservation" approach can actually undermine the growth that we need for our lives to move forward into realms of greater fulfillment and effectiveness. Once again, I am not saying that being rooted and establishing relationships in credibility in one place is a bad idea. (On the contrary, this can be quite necessary and beneficial in most cases, especially for people whose normal mode of operation is the opposite, simply bouncing from place to place.) But I do feel that there is an equally unhealthy emphasis on maintaining what we have, which keeps us from experiencing what awaits us as we let go of what is safe and predictable in our current state. Confused yet? Stay with me. ;-)
Let's explore this with an example from my life as an eighth grader. For some, the formidable years of middle school (or junior high as you might know it) are years that they would rather quickly forget, including their eighth grade year. For me, however, my eighth grade experience was one of the highlights of my educational, social formation. After two years gaining my bearings and finding my place in the obtuse adventure that is a magnet arts middle school, I arrived at my eighth grade year feeling on top of the game and in control of my destiny. I was well-liked by most of my peers (you can't please everyone, can you?), felt confident and respected as an active member of the theatre department and overall really liked the community of friends and colleagues--alright--teachers--that had been established up that point. That year was one of the most joy-filled years of my life and perhaps one in which I felt the most emotionally healthy.
So here is where this example comes into play with the subject at hand. Would it not be completely wrong and self-stunting for me (and for others with me in that king-of-the-world scenario) to stay in the eighth grade for at least one more year, despite the requirements that I leave my middle school life and advance into the ranks of the high school adventure? Most if not all of you reading this would unequivocally shout a unanimous "Yes!" (or at least think that such a question is ludicrous to ask in a scenario like mind where no academic reason for repeating the grade was necessary). And in this example, it seems all too clear that to move forward from one grade to another would be the obvious progression.
But what if I were back inside that eighth grade head of mine and thinking, "Why leave this place now? My community is solid, my reputation is intact, my artistic pursuits are smiled upon. I've got it made! I need to build in this place where I've developed roots for the past three years. What's another year or two going to hurt? This is where it's at."? I wonder if this is the mentality that we all too often get stuck in when given an increasing measure of success and comfort-level in our current life situations. You may retort, "Well, we're not in middle school anymore. This is adult life. This is different." But I ask, how do we know that the state we are in is in actuality the end of the season, ready to push us forward and out into the next? This is a question that I think is worthy of addressing, but which I will not attempt to address in this moment. Rather, I want to present the thought that there is a time to move on, and that in these times, the way forward feels counter-intuitive. We must often lose to gain, and if we keep too much when it is a time to give up, we can easily lose what we hope to gain as life and others move forward while we remain glued to the past.
I am considering grad school right now in New York City. That is the the looming change that is on the horizon for me, or the possibility thereof, at least. I have been in Chicago for the past four and a half years now, and it was only in the last few months that I was able to finally produce the very show that I came up here to develop. I am brimming with a wealth of rich relationships with the community that God has given me, and in certain work scenarios, particularly in the realm of some of my theatre teaching, I feel very much established and comfortable. However, there are other factors which are not quite settled yet, which I feel leaving Chicago and pursuing graduate study in NYC would further solidify, factors which I do not see as clear a solution for were I to stay in this beautiful city. I don't necessarily want to leave Chicago, the city of dreams (as I like to call it). But if I get into this grad program in New York, I know from my Chicago experience what rewards can come from leaving one city and starting a new life in another, as painful as the losing aspects of that transition can be.
What about you? Where might God or life be directing you to give up what's comfortable in consideration of gaining something greater where risk and unpredictability are assured?
Lose to gain, gain to lose. The cycle continues. What part of the cycle might you be in right now?
In the society of which I am a part, my peers and I are constantly striving to build upon what we've gained in order to secure the life that we want, and this often means keeping and cultivating what we have already established. This could be as basic as protecting the relationships that form our immediate community or making personal investments in a current job that we like and want to grow in further. It could involve building professional connections in a local sector of an industry (in my case, expanding my network in the local, Chicago theatre scene) and staying rooted in one locality in order to sustain and create credibility for oneself in that industry.
While each of the above scenarios are all good and well in themselves and have their proper place in the development of a thriving human life, I believe there are times when to stay in that "preservation" approach can actually undermine the growth that we need for our lives to move forward into realms of greater fulfillment and effectiveness. Once again, I am not saying that being rooted and establishing relationships in credibility in one place is a bad idea. (On the contrary, this can be quite necessary and beneficial in most cases, especially for people whose normal mode of operation is the opposite, simply bouncing from place to place.) But I do feel that there is an equally unhealthy emphasis on maintaining what we have, which keeps us from experiencing what awaits us as we let go of what is safe and predictable in our current state. Confused yet? Stay with me. ;-)
Let's explore this with an example from my life as an eighth grader. For some, the formidable years of middle school (or junior high as you might know it) are years that they would rather quickly forget, including their eighth grade year. For me, however, my eighth grade experience was one of the highlights of my educational, social formation. After two years gaining my bearings and finding my place in the obtuse adventure that is a magnet arts middle school, I arrived at my eighth grade year feeling on top of the game and in control of my destiny. I was well-liked by most of my peers (you can't please everyone, can you?), felt confident and respected as an active member of the theatre department and overall really liked the community of friends and colleagues--alright--teachers--that had been established up that point. That year was one of the most joy-filled years of my life and perhaps one in which I felt the most emotionally healthy.
So here is where this example comes into play with the subject at hand. Would it not be completely wrong and self-stunting for me (and for others with me in that king-of-the-world scenario) to stay in the eighth grade for at least one more year, despite the requirements that I leave my middle school life and advance into the ranks of the high school adventure? Most if not all of you reading this would unequivocally shout a unanimous "Yes!" (or at least think that such a question is ludicrous to ask in a scenario like mind where no academic reason for repeating the grade was necessary). And in this example, it seems all too clear that to move forward from one grade to another would be the obvious progression.
But what if I were back inside that eighth grade head of mine and thinking, "Why leave this place now? My community is solid, my reputation is intact, my artistic pursuits are smiled upon. I've got it made! I need to build in this place where I've developed roots for the past three years. What's another year or two going to hurt? This is where it's at."? I wonder if this is the mentality that we all too often get stuck in when given an increasing measure of success and comfort-level in our current life situations. You may retort, "Well, we're not in middle school anymore. This is adult life. This is different." But I ask, how do we know that the state we are in is in actuality the end of the season, ready to push us forward and out into the next? This is a question that I think is worthy of addressing, but which I will not attempt to address in this moment. Rather, I want to present the thought that there is a time to move on, and that in these times, the way forward feels counter-intuitive. We must often lose to gain, and if we keep too much when it is a time to give up, we can easily lose what we hope to gain as life and others move forward while we remain glued to the past.
I am considering grad school right now in New York City. That is the the looming change that is on the horizon for me, or the possibility thereof, at least. I have been in Chicago for the past four and a half years now, and it was only in the last few months that I was able to finally produce the very show that I came up here to develop. I am brimming with a wealth of rich relationships with the community that God has given me, and in certain work scenarios, particularly in the realm of some of my theatre teaching, I feel very much established and comfortable. However, there are other factors which are not quite settled yet, which I feel leaving Chicago and pursuing graduate study in NYC would further solidify, factors which I do not see as clear a solution for were I to stay in this beautiful city. I don't necessarily want to leave Chicago, the city of dreams (as I like to call it). But if I get into this grad program in New York, I know from my Chicago experience what rewards can come from leaving one city and starting a new life in another, as painful as the losing aspects of that transition can be.
What about you? Where might God or life be directing you to give up what's comfortable in consideration of gaining something greater where risk and unpredictability are assured?
Lose to gain, gain to lose. The cycle continues. What part of the cycle might you be in right now?
Sunday, December 9, 2012
When Community Fails...(or, one reason Christmas is so darn special)
Community. What comes to mind when you read that word? Necessary? Enriching? Elusive? Disappointing? In my experience, community has met each of those descriptors, and in this post I endeavor to explore why it is so elusive and what is to be done about that.
I want to focus my energy on the community which is built within the theatre, as that is perhaps some of the deepest yet most cyclical community I have experienced. For those of you reading this who are involved in the theatre, you understand what I mean almost immediately. For those of you not so involved, let me fill you in a bit.
In the process of putting together a show, a community is a natural by-product, and often this community is one that is very rich. Here you have several people coming together for a set period of time to pursue a common goal, passionately offering up their time, talent, and relational resources to give life to something which they all deem worthy of its stage time (limited stage time though that may be). From rehearsals to production meetings, those involved in a show can suddenly find themselves spending a lot of time with one another over consecutive periods in which a sense of family begins to emerge. Though roles vary, each participant is unified by the work. This sense of community and unification can become heightened when it is time to share the group's work with an audience, thereby inviting them, in a sense, into the community which the group has created.
But what happens when the work has ended, when the goal has been achieved? It seems that the community is slowly stripped away, first by the lessened time actors and production staff are spending with one another due to the lack of rehearsals or frequent production meetings once the show has gone up. At some point in the run, though the actors are still present to share the show each night (or day), the director no longer shows up each time, nor do all of the production team members. Finally, the last performance is at hand, actors and crew members are unified once again in the strike (destroying/putting away the set, costumes, and other materials that manifested the world of the show in the performance space), and suddenly, those actors are without the production and the community it provided.
At this point, you may protest, "Well, if it were real community, these people wouldn't need the show to continue in order for their relationships to keep growing,"
to which I might say, "Ah, good point."
Yet so often the community built over the course of a production feels authentic enough (yes, it varies in intensity and quality depending on the production, the people involved, and other factors). It feels authentic, the cause seems worthy, the passion and effort are there. So why does the community dissolve once the show has ended?
I have seen this happen in church settings as well, where everyone was unified over the course of weekly small group gatherings, praying for one another, studying the Bible, etc.---and when the group ended, some of those relationships were still in tact, but depth of community--the steady coming together of all of the unique parts--was no longer there.
Do we always need a cause, a format, an excuse to develop community together? Perhaps that's the problem; we feel we need an activity to justify the the sacrifice a community requires to exist. But what if the community is a valid enough reason in itself for such sacrifice? What if, in a theatre setting, church setting, or otherwise, the goal was just as much the community as the work which inspired it? What if, as a theatre endeavored to produce a show, it also endeavored to somehow sustain the sense of community that its play-making would inevitably create?
As I write, I realize that this topic is too broad to be contained in just one post. But I would like to offer up something that is lingering in the back of my mind as I write, a name and a concept that is perhaps a key in all of this (and quite fitting, given the Christmas season at hand).
In an ancient prophecy concerning the coming of the Messiah, as recorded in the Old Testament, Jesus is named as "Immanuel," which means "God with us." In a sense, one of the core things we are promised in the coming of God on earth is...community. Not just God over there, God on earth doing his own thing...but God--get this--with us. Hmm...
As the old carol goes, "O come, o come, Immanuel." If God is eternal, and eternal means unending, and we get an eternal God with us, then that must mean...eternal community. Starting when? It has already begun. Jesus, preparing his disciples for his imminent death, resurrection, and temporary departure, told them,
"... I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be[c] in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. 19 Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you." -John 14:16-20
I don't claim to understand how all of this works, but one thing seems clear. Jesus and his Father make their presence available through their Spirit, and as we join with them, we are offered constant community. I haven't worked all of this out practically yet, but I would like to see more of this in my own life and in the life of the theatre.
Immanuel...God with us...in community. I'll drink a chai to that.
I want to focus my energy on the community which is built within the theatre, as that is perhaps some of the deepest yet most cyclical community I have experienced. For those of you reading this who are involved in the theatre, you understand what I mean almost immediately. For those of you not so involved, let me fill you in a bit.
In the process of putting together a show, a community is a natural by-product, and often this community is one that is very rich. Here you have several people coming together for a set period of time to pursue a common goal, passionately offering up their time, talent, and relational resources to give life to something which they all deem worthy of its stage time (limited stage time though that may be). From rehearsals to production meetings, those involved in a show can suddenly find themselves spending a lot of time with one another over consecutive periods in which a sense of family begins to emerge. Though roles vary, each participant is unified by the work. This sense of community and unification can become heightened when it is time to share the group's work with an audience, thereby inviting them, in a sense, into the community which the group has created.
But what happens when the work has ended, when the goal has been achieved? It seems that the community is slowly stripped away, first by the lessened time actors and production staff are spending with one another due to the lack of rehearsals or frequent production meetings once the show has gone up. At some point in the run, though the actors are still present to share the show each night (or day), the director no longer shows up each time, nor do all of the production team members. Finally, the last performance is at hand, actors and crew members are unified once again in the strike (destroying/putting away the set, costumes, and other materials that manifested the world of the show in the performance space), and suddenly, those actors are without the production and the community it provided.
At this point, you may protest, "Well, if it were real community, these people wouldn't need the show to continue in order for their relationships to keep growing,"
to which I might say, "Ah, good point."
Yet so often the community built over the course of a production feels authentic enough (yes, it varies in intensity and quality depending on the production, the people involved, and other factors). It feels authentic, the cause seems worthy, the passion and effort are there. So why does the community dissolve once the show has ended?
I have seen this happen in church settings as well, where everyone was unified over the course of weekly small group gatherings, praying for one another, studying the Bible, etc.---and when the group ended, some of those relationships were still in tact, but depth of community--the steady coming together of all of the unique parts--was no longer there.
Do we always need a cause, a format, an excuse to develop community together? Perhaps that's the problem; we feel we need an activity to justify the the sacrifice a community requires to exist. But what if the community is a valid enough reason in itself for such sacrifice? What if, in a theatre setting, church setting, or otherwise, the goal was just as much the community as the work which inspired it? What if, as a theatre endeavored to produce a show, it also endeavored to somehow sustain the sense of community that its play-making would inevitably create?
As I write, I realize that this topic is too broad to be contained in just one post. But I would like to offer up something that is lingering in the back of my mind as I write, a name and a concept that is perhaps a key in all of this (and quite fitting, given the Christmas season at hand).
In an ancient prophecy concerning the coming of the Messiah, as recorded in the Old Testament, Jesus is named as "Immanuel," which means "God with us." In a sense, one of the core things we are promised in the coming of God on earth is...community. Not just God over there, God on earth doing his own thing...but God--get this--with us. Hmm...
As the old carol goes, "O come, o come, Immanuel." If God is eternal, and eternal means unending, and we get an eternal God with us, then that must mean...eternal community. Starting when? It has already begun. Jesus, preparing his disciples for his imminent death, resurrection, and temporary departure, told them,
"... I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be[c] in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. 19 Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you." -John 14:16-20
I don't claim to understand how all of this works, but one thing seems clear. Jesus and his Father make their presence available through their Spirit, and as we join with them, we are offered constant community. I haven't worked all of this out practically yet, but I would like to see more of this in my own life and in the life of the theatre.
Immanuel...God with us...in community. I'll drink a chai to that.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Steeping...
Today I want to explore the very unpopular topic of WAITING. This is something that I am not too good at yet something I am still forced to do, given the fact that there are many desires that have yet to be fulfilled in my life. Our one-click-away, microwave-and-its-ready culture (here in America) has made it easier for me to resist the practice of waiting. But I am starting to wonder if NOT waiting requires one to wait even longer. Let's take a look.
In my last post, I talked about resource and looking to Jesus to satisfy the deeper needs behind our needs on the surface. But this kind of dependence implies the need to reliquish control of getting needs met ourselves and waiting on someone else to do it for us. That doesn't sound too inviting when experience all too often tells us that others take too long, that they can't be trusted to do things right, or that they may not come through at all. Better to trust yourself, do it yourself, and get it done right. Right?
There's this prophet named Isaiah who, by the Biblical account, was sent by God to the ancient Israelites to reset their destructive course. Many times, the Israelites looked to others or to themselves to get things done, and this almost always in a way that was contrary to God's way of doing things. Often the ways in which they would do things ended up in selfish behavior to the detriment of others, and ultimately themselves. They were caught in a cycle of self worship and idol worship, looking to themselves and other things to get their needs met. But the results were always deceiving or temporary at best. In this context, God provides glimpses of another way through the cries and declarations of Isaiah, such as this description of how God worked for his people before:
"For when you did awesome things that we did not expect, you came down, and the mountains trembled before you. Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him." -Isaiah 64:3-4
In this description of God, I am struck by the idea that he does things that his people do not expect, awesome things in fact. So often, I want to know what's coming and therefore try to act on my own so that I know what is happening. Control. But God here goes beyond and does things that we do NOT expect, awesome things at that. Many times, his surprises are much better than our pre-conceived plans of what will make us feel better.
I'm also struck by the last part that says that God is one who acts on behalf of those who wait for him. Is the converse then true, that he does not act for those who do not wait for him or trust him to come through?
Here's a description elsewhere of what it looks like when trusting in God as the ultimate resource:
Isaiah 30:15 : "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it."
Israel was trusting in abnormal ways of getting their needs met: oppression, deceit, unhealthy alliances, and God said that all of that striving would get them nowhere. Rather, their solution would be in turning from those ways and in resting, in quiet trust. It seems that a solution was offered, but they denied the offer for help by their refusal to quiet their busy lives and stop their striving to take control.
Is the solution any different for us? In what ways are we trusting in things other than God and acting in ways that are harmful to ourselves and to others in order to get what we want? I'll tell you for my own part, it's not working. More and more I'm ready to try out this quiet trust, this restfulness that says, "Okay God, I'll wait. I'll do it your way. Show me what you're doing, and help me to follow in that, even if it takes longer."
Would you rather have home-brewed chai that may take a good while to make, or a few minute steep from a tepid tea bag? Or if God decides to act quickly with a good quality 5 minute tea bag, are you willing to wait the full 5 minutes for a proper steeping? The longer the wait, the greater the strength, the richer the taste, and better the chai.
God knows microwaved tea is an unsatisfying option. He'd rather we drink the good stuff.
In my last post, I talked about resource and looking to Jesus to satisfy the deeper needs behind our needs on the surface. But this kind of dependence implies the need to reliquish control of getting needs met ourselves and waiting on someone else to do it for us. That doesn't sound too inviting when experience all too often tells us that others take too long, that they can't be trusted to do things right, or that they may not come through at all. Better to trust yourself, do it yourself, and get it done right. Right?
There's this prophet named Isaiah who, by the Biblical account, was sent by God to the ancient Israelites to reset their destructive course. Many times, the Israelites looked to others or to themselves to get things done, and this almost always in a way that was contrary to God's way of doing things. Often the ways in which they would do things ended up in selfish behavior to the detriment of others, and ultimately themselves. They were caught in a cycle of self worship and idol worship, looking to themselves and other things to get their needs met. But the results were always deceiving or temporary at best. In this context, God provides glimpses of another way through the cries and declarations of Isaiah, such as this description of how God worked for his people before:
"For when you did awesome things that we did not expect, you came down, and the mountains trembled before you. Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him." -Isaiah 64:3-4
In this description of God, I am struck by the idea that he does things that his people do not expect, awesome things in fact. So often, I want to know what's coming and therefore try to act on my own so that I know what is happening. Control. But God here goes beyond and does things that we do NOT expect, awesome things at that. Many times, his surprises are much better than our pre-conceived plans of what will make us feel better.
I'm also struck by the last part that says that God is one who acts on behalf of those who wait for him. Is the converse then true, that he does not act for those who do not wait for him or trust him to come through?
Here's a description elsewhere of what it looks like when trusting in God as the ultimate resource:
Isaiah 30:15 : "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it."
Israel was trusting in abnormal ways of getting their needs met: oppression, deceit, unhealthy alliances, and God said that all of that striving would get them nowhere. Rather, their solution would be in turning from those ways and in resting, in quiet trust. It seems that a solution was offered, but they denied the offer for help by their refusal to quiet their busy lives and stop their striving to take control.
Is the solution any different for us? In what ways are we trusting in things other than God and acting in ways that are harmful to ourselves and to others in order to get what we want? I'll tell you for my own part, it's not working. More and more I'm ready to try out this quiet trust, this restfulness that says, "Okay God, I'll wait. I'll do it your way. Show me what you're doing, and help me to follow in that, even if it takes longer."
Would you rather have home-brewed chai that may take a good while to make, or a few minute steep from a tepid tea bag? Or if God decides to act quickly with a good quality 5 minute tea bag, are you willing to wait the full 5 minutes for a proper steeping? The longer the wait, the greater the strength, the richer the taste, and better the chai.
God knows microwaved tea is an unsatisfying option. He'd rather we drink the good stuff.
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