So, once again, awesome Wesley devotions for Lent. (To check out more, see the Wesley blog: http://uncwesleyfootprints.wordpress.com/
.) But this one kinda grabbed me- I like the way old things are said in new-ish ways. It's a conglomeration of a lot of good phrases. Enjoy!
Romans 5:1-2
Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him, we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.
This passage reminds us of the sheer magnitude of the impact of Christ’s sacrifice on our lives. We remember, as we prepare for the celebration of the Resurrection, the new life we have been given in the Spirit through Jesus. We remember God’s unconditional love, that no matter what we may do, no matter how far we may try to stray from the path that God has set before us, God is with us, always. We remember the example Christ has set before us, when He said, “Yet not my will be done, but Yours,” as we recognize that our justification through faith is not a license to stray but an invitation to stay, a call to relationship with God. Through Christ, we find that we are indeed able to be at peace, and it is a gift freely given, but it is a gift that we must strive to accept each and every moment of our lives. Finding our way in the world, how we relate to the world and how we live our lives while focusing on something beyond ourselves, is a real challenge, and I hope that we can find it in ourselves to live that challenge. It is difficult, it is perhaps the hardest thing we’ll ever have to do, to live counter-culturally in a society that encourages conformation, but the reward is greater than we can imagine...a life of joy and peace in God.
Gracious God, we thank you for the amazing gift you’ve given us, for the fact that, despite the enormity of our debt, you have forgiven us, and you still seek us out even when we run from you. Lord, we pray for the wisdom to seek you with as much fervor as you seek us, and for the strength and patience to return to you even when we stray. Amen
BWAlmostThere!L,
Jake
Showing posts with label Wesley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wesley. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Lenten Devotion
I've kinda been skipping reading the awesome devos that my friends at the UNC Wesley foundation have been sending out, but I was going through my email and this one made me feel better, so I hope it does the same for you.
PS BWL= Big Wesley Love
Matthew 26:59
“Now the chief priests and the whole council were looking for false testimony against Jesus so that they might put him to death.”
Not to point out the obvious here, but it’s kind of unfair that the good guy gets put to death just because the powers-that-be had a certain mindset that would not allow them to see what was right in front of their faces...namely, that Jesus was the Son of God. It’s kind of a symptom of the human condition thus far, isn’t it, though? The self-righteousness, the immobile worldview, the rush to condemnation...it’s all been a rather consistent short-coming of our kind throughout history. As much as it affects our relationships with the world at large, though, I’d like to talk about how we bring those same symptoms to bear when we pass judgment on ourselves. Lent is far too often a time of beating ourselves up—we focus on what we’re not doing well enough, try to “fix” it, and then pound our heads against the wall in frustration when we inevitably slip back into old habits. I’d like to take this moment to remind you that you are God’s creation, and you are loved. You are loved in totality, not just that which you consider good. This is not to say that we shouldn’t try to be the best possible versions of ourselves. On the contrary, I’ve found that there’s no greater motivating factor than the fact of such a great love. The point is, though, that we should be who we are created to be. We all have our limitations and our flaws. Figure out how to function and thrive in life through the wholeness of your personality, not just how to survive in spite of your weaknesses. Learn how you work in community, how even what you perceive as a weakness can help strengthen and guide others.
Prayer: Loving God, we are grateful for the gift of Your creation. We ask that you’ll help us to appreciate all of it, including ourselves, and to see it with fresh eyes everyday. Help us, during this Lenten season, to discover our true selves, and to become, in whole, that which You have created us to be. Amen.
BWLisReallyAnAwesomeThing,Isn'tIt?,
Jake
PS BWL= Big Wesley Love
Matthew 26:59
“Now the chief priests and the whole council were looking for false testimony against Jesus so that they might put him to death.”
Not to point out the obvious here, but it’s kind of unfair that the good guy gets put to death just because the powers-that-be had a certain mindset that would not allow them to see what was right in front of their faces...namely, that Jesus was the Son of God. It’s kind of a symptom of the human condition thus far, isn’t it, though? The self-righteousness, the immobile worldview, the rush to condemnation...it’s all been a rather consistent short-coming of our kind throughout history. As much as it affects our relationships with the world at large, though, I’d like to talk about how we bring those same symptoms to bear when we pass judgment on ourselves. Lent is far too often a time of beating ourselves up—we focus on what we’re not doing well enough, try to “fix” it, and then pound our heads against the wall in frustration when we inevitably slip back into old habits. I’d like to take this moment to remind you that you are God’s creation, and you are loved. You are loved in totality, not just that which you consider good. This is not to say that we shouldn’t try to be the best possible versions of ourselves. On the contrary, I’ve found that there’s no greater motivating factor than the fact of such a great love. The point is, though, that we should be who we are created to be. We all have our limitations and our flaws. Figure out how to function and thrive in life through the wholeness of your personality, not just how to survive in spite of your weaknesses. Learn how you work in community, how even what you perceive as a weakness can help strengthen and guide others.
Prayer: Loving God, we are grateful for the gift of Your creation. We ask that you’ll help us to appreciate all of it, including ourselves, and to see it with fresh eyes everyday. Help us, during this Lenten season, to discover our true selves, and to become, in whole, that which You have created us to be. Amen.
BWLisReallyAnAwesomeThing,Isn'tIt?,
Jake
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Please Tell Me I'm Not Destined for Apologetics
To avoid getting emotionally involved in the slaughter that is occurring right now on my television (gotta hate those orange teams), I'm going to write. You know, trade one passion for the other. Because I got something on my mind and I don't think it's going to go away.
So I'm in this religious studies learning community, right? It's supposed to be supporting a pluralistic way of life. I didn't know what pluralistic was at the beginning of the year and I had to look it up. Religiously, it's the view that all religions are equally valid, without anyone holding the market on truth and rightness, and it pushes coexistence. Now, currently, I'm all for coexistence because, as Voldemort said in a Very Potter Musical, "You think that killing people would make them like you, but it doesn't. It just makes them dead." And then it makes their descendants bitter and then any chance at reconciliation and understanding is put off for millenniums, and that only if neither one of you does anything to make the other mad.
But, you know, I'm realizing more and more that I don't think that all religions or lack thereof are equally valid. Now, before you go hating on me, I'm not going to judge anyone on their religion. I'm reading God is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens and he said something like religious people can't leave other people alone. Maybe this is one of my failings as a Christian, but I can leave people alone. If there is not something about my life that sets me apart, that makes me different, something that I have that you don't that you want, if you are completely content in your religious choice, then I'm not going to offer any advice or leave you with any statements. Now, I might pray for you, but that's between me and my God, who is working in you and has been working in you since the day you were born, whether you want Him to or not.
I'm not going to sit back and bash all other religions. I'm not. I think there is value in different religion. I don't think that they're all basically the same, but I do think that things like doing good and searching for truth and being moral are all of merit. I like the Muslim's devotion and I think the practice of praying five times daily is a beautiful thing. I like the Buddhist meditation idea. I love the bittersweet faith of Judaism, the Psalm that comes out of exile, the way of living with a life that's not going to treat you right. And honestly, I love seeing beauty and wisdom in every day life and thank God you don't need a knowledge of Him to see that there is good in this universe.
I said something tonight that I couldn't believe once it left my mouth. We were going around saying our favorite spiritual quote of the moment and the guy next to me quoted LBJ: "Sometimes you have to hunker down and take it like a jackass in a hailstorm." Solid. True. When we were explaining to the larger group the most talked about quote in our smaller group, we had to explain what the group liked about it. Our group used the LBJ quote because it was funny and I happened to justify it by saying, "You know, it's good to hear things like God created the heavens and still cares about man, but sometimes you just need something practical for your everyday life, you know, step down into the real world." Callous. Dismissive. The guy next to me said, "My thoughts exactly."
We went onto the next group and one of the guys I know is Christian said, "Well, I don't know if I can agree with that last statement." They went on and talked about their quote ("Those who don't know how to weep with their whole heart, don't know how to laugh either." -Golda Meir, former Israeli prime minister) and the meeting carried on. I shook my head. I don't know if I can agree with my last statement either.
You know, I was just saying it to be rational. I was just saying it to make a Christian seem like a reasonable human being instead of someone who's got too much heaven on their minds. I'm a practical person. You can't feed your children on God and the heavens, try as I might later in life. And John Wesley was a proponent of meeting people where they are. That's totally what I was going for, right?
Incorrect. I was saying something that I knew would be popular. It was accepting. It was understanding. It was me being a pansy and denying what I should have said. The take home message from Passion is that it's all about God's glory. God is glorified in many wonderful things. In every beautiful things that a human being can do, God is glorified. In every preserved bit of this great creation, God is glorified. In the pristine, thankfully untouchable stars, God is glorified. It's all about the Creator who loves us with an unfathomable love and we only get our significance through that.
And that's not accepting of all other religions. I need that glory in my life. I don't think I realized how much my religion needs a heart, how much I have longed to long after God until I went on Passion. It's good for that. It's also good for falling into the emotional high trap and thinking that loud music and good speakers is what modern Christianity is all about. But the people who spoke I truly believe really meant what they were saying and really believed in God. Really believed in God and His great ability to redeem and restore, to prepare and repair. And it's hard to sit back and say that there is meaning in atheism. I love the idea in The Shack, that all roads don't lead to Jesus, but He will walk down any road to find you. He's searching for you more than you could ever search for Him. God wants us more than we could ever want Him.
Sorry that this has just been a rant, but, goodness, I am frustrated by people who believe that they are their only god because I think the bigger picture of humanity forever escapes them. I am frustrated by my willingness to concede to everything when I know that one day I am going to have to stand up and say what I really mean and that means that the lies will come forward. Listening is good. Understanding is good. You can't take Christ to people without knowing where they are. But it's God we're talking about here. I'm not going to let Him be lowered in my speech for the benefit of someone else's confusion.
Call me crazy.
Call me a Christian.
So I'm in this religious studies learning community, right? It's supposed to be supporting a pluralistic way of life. I didn't know what pluralistic was at the beginning of the year and I had to look it up. Religiously, it's the view that all religions are equally valid, without anyone holding the market on truth and rightness, and it pushes coexistence. Now, currently, I'm all for coexistence because, as Voldemort said in a Very Potter Musical, "You think that killing people would make them like you, but it doesn't. It just makes them dead." And then it makes their descendants bitter and then any chance at reconciliation and understanding is put off for millenniums, and that only if neither one of you does anything to make the other mad.
But, you know, I'm realizing more and more that I don't think that all religions or lack thereof are equally valid. Now, before you go hating on me, I'm not going to judge anyone on their religion. I'm reading God is Not Great by Christopher Hitchens and he said something like religious people can't leave other people alone. Maybe this is one of my failings as a Christian, but I can leave people alone. If there is not something about my life that sets me apart, that makes me different, something that I have that you don't that you want, if you are completely content in your religious choice, then I'm not going to offer any advice or leave you with any statements. Now, I might pray for you, but that's between me and my God, who is working in you and has been working in you since the day you were born, whether you want Him to or not.
I'm not going to sit back and bash all other religions. I'm not. I think there is value in different religion. I don't think that they're all basically the same, but I do think that things like doing good and searching for truth and being moral are all of merit. I like the Muslim's devotion and I think the practice of praying five times daily is a beautiful thing. I like the Buddhist meditation idea. I love the bittersweet faith of Judaism, the Psalm that comes out of exile, the way of living with a life that's not going to treat you right. And honestly, I love seeing beauty and wisdom in every day life and thank God you don't need a knowledge of Him to see that there is good in this universe.
I said something tonight that I couldn't believe once it left my mouth. We were going around saying our favorite spiritual quote of the moment and the guy next to me quoted LBJ: "Sometimes you have to hunker down and take it like a jackass in a hailstorm." Solid. True. When we were explaining to the larger group the most talked about quote in our smaller group, we had to explain what the group liked about it. Our group used the LBJ quote because it was funny and I happened to justify it by saying, "You know, it's good to hear things like God created the heavens and still cares about man, but sometimes you just need something practical for your everyday life, you know, step down into the real world." Callous. Dismissive. The guy next to me said, "My thoughts exactly."
We went onto the next group and one of the guys I know is Christian said, "Well, I don't know if I can agree with that last statement." They went on and talked about their quote ("Those who don't know how to weep with their whole heart, don't know how to laugh either." -Golda Meir, former Israeli prime minister) and the meeting carried on. I shook my head. I don't know if I can agree with my last statement either.
You know, I was just saying it to be rational. I was just saying it to make a Christian seem like a reasonable human being instead of someone who's got too much heaven on their minds. I'm a practical person. You can't feed your children on God and the heavens, try as I might later in life. And John Wesley was a proponent of meeting people where they are. That's totally what I was going for, right?
Incorrect. I was saying something that I knew would be popular. It was accepting. It was understanding. It was me being a pansy and denying what I should have said. The take home message from Passion is that it's all about God's glory. God is glorified in many wonderful things. In every beautiful things that a human being can do, God is glorified. In every preserved bit of this great creation, God is glorified. In the pristine, thankfully untouchable stars, God is glorified. It's all about the Creator who loves us with an unfathomable love and we only get our significance through that.
And that's not accepting of all other religions. I need that glory in my life. I don't think I realized how much my religion needs a heart, how much I have longed to long after God until I went on Passion. It's good for that. It's also good for falling into the emotional high trap and thinking that loud music and good speakers is what modern Christianity is all about. But the people who spoke I truly believe really meant what they were saying and really believed in God. Really believed in God and His great ability to redeem and restore, to prepare and repair. And it's hard to sit back and say that there is meaning in atheism. I love the idea in The Shack, that all roads don't lead to Jesus, but He will walk down any road to find you. He's searching for you more than you could ever search for Him. God wants us more than we could ever want Him.
Sorry that this has just been a rant, but, goodness, I am frustrated by people who believe that they are their only god because I think the bigger picture of humanity forever escapes them. I am frustrated by my willingness to concede to everything when I know that one day I am going to have to stand up and say what I really mean and that means that the lies will come forward. Listening is good. Understanding is good. You can't take Christ to people without knowing where they are. But it's God we're talking about here. I'm not going to let Him be lowered in my speech for the benefit of someone else's confusion.
Call me crazy.
Call me a Christian.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
A Stance
I need to know what I believe and I need to write that down, for my own benefit more than for others. So even though this is super public and open to the world, it's a much more selfish post (like the other ones haven't been...). Maybe someone will see it and hold me to it.
First off, I am obviously a Christian. I believe everything in the Apostle's Creed and that is the rock basis of my faith. I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth. Without a real, present God, none of this can happen.
I believe in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord. I do believe that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah, the Christ, I believe He was the Son of God and I recognize Him as the guiding force in my life. Now, whether I listen to that force all the time or not is irrelevant to this conversation. I'm just trying like everyone else. But I believe that He is something much more than a dead leader.
Now things that aren't totally necessary to my faith, but I still believe: that He was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. If one day that turns out to be something we've misunderstood, it won't rock my core.
This next bit, however, is quite important. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day, He rose again. He ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father, from whence He shall come to judge the living and the dead. I remember reading Mere Christianity and CS Lewis saying something like the early Christians were convinced by one fact: the Resurrection. My faith hangs on that too. If Jesus of Nazareth died by crucifixion and stayed dead, then I might as well leave him on my cross because the world was not changed. But if He arose and defeated death and changed the order of the universe and freed me from captivity to sin and death, then I need to live out some thanks for that. The distant God the Father didn't save me until Jesus did.
And finally, I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. Put a parenthetical note around the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. I'm not sure it means what I always thought it meant and I'm not sure how much the gospels preach it but I'll build up that house over time. I believe in the church universal with all my being and I want to see her on this earth as she was meant to be. The Holy Spirit is the practical result of what happened when Christ came.
So that's the basics. From that, I build a little hesitantly. I am a huge fan of prevenient grace, God through the Holy Spirit working in you even before you know it. I also believe that what Christ did enables us to be delivered from sin and death by justifying grace and I believe that through the Holy Spirit again, He gives us sanctifying grace to make us more holy, to make us better. I mean, what can I say? I'm a Wesleyan sucker. But I will admit that this is all dogma that I like. I like the 'Wesley quadrilateral' too, where you make decisions based on scripture, tradition, reason and experience. Let me unpack that a little for you, as my professors are fond of saying.
Here's where I get a little annoying to other Christians, I think. I'm probably a good bit too liberal but, you know, I was this way even before I went away to college. I think I kinda hid this while I worked at camp because there's no reason to confuse kids and there's no reason to kill a good message. But this is what I think. This is how I read my bible and what other people have to say about it and this is why I get a little annoyed at people sometimes. I believe that the Bible was written by men and men with a purpose in mind. I love what my Hebrew Bible professor said about the Old Testament: It's the story of a people trying their best to worship a holy God. It was complied and edited by men who legitimately thought they were doing good by combining multiple sources and traditions together to help preserve their culture and the worship of their national God who I think is the God who created the universe. But that doesn't mean that it was written with me in mind, this far away. Even Paul's letters weren't written with me in mind. I think it's wonderful how the Holy Spirit can take things that weren't intended for me and show me something that I need to see in order to worship God with my words and my life. But that doesn't mean that I agree with the story of Joshua, which is neither historically accurate nor faithfully comforting. Maybe I'm too much of a pacifist, but I think that do not murder means don't kill, regardless of who the person you're killing is. I'm guilty right now of using the commandments in Exodus without a complete understanding of their placement in the Bible due to the historical and cultural influences at the time, so I'm as bad as the next person, but I see that I'm that bad and I see that, even from a faith perspective, you can't just sit down and say, 'What does this mean for me?' Read the Bible allegorically all you want and maybe that's the meaning that you're supposed to get out of it, but don't dream for a second that it's all about you.
I'm big on tradition, too, because it's comforting, but I'm also big on reasoning. There's an agnostic in my learning community who said that he reads Job as the powers that be, whatever they are, sending a message to man, saying, 'How dare you presume to know what I think, what I mean and what I want? Stop with your pathetic little religions. You can't even comprehend who I am.' He takes that a step farther to express his disbelief that any race can claim to have any kind of special relationship with that power that is. This makes reasonable sense to me. If I didn't have proof in the form of Christ that God cares, I might be inclined to believe what he says. I'm big on thinking for yourself, for not taking any doctrine that's shoved at you without comparing it to what makes sense and what's in the Bible, taking into account everything the Bible's got in it. I'm not saying there's layers and layers of interpretive meaning in the Bible, though I do know that you can read something new in it every time you read a passage, something that didn't make sense to you before that's revealed by the Holy Spirit. You just gotta think. God gave you a brain and free will for a reason. Now that reason might be different from what I think it is, but there's always a decent reason with my God.
And then, just to roundly make people mad, I hate altar calls. I'll come up and pray, but I am not going to tell you that every person who ever walked up in front of a congregation understands what they're getting into. There's an ocean to Christianity, to the following of the Christ, that cannot be summed up in 20 seconds praying at an altar. I hate the idea that it's all just about our 'personal relationship with Jesus Christ.' I think it's important, don't get me wrong, but there's so much more to be done for the Christian community and the community at large that gets left out when we're just good out of our personal relationship. We were made for community (arbitrary statement with proof following sometime). So I hate it when religious leaders pray out loud and give someone a single prayer to pray that's going to make everything better because that's not all that it's about. No, I realize that there's a moment, that there was a moment, when I realized that I needed help from God and that God had already made plans for this and carried them out almost 2,000 years ago. But that doesn't coincide with the time that I answered an altar call and I don't think it has to. So I hate the word 'saved.' I'm not as much of a fan of the emphasis on a personal relationship as I used to be. And I am so against forgetting how big God is and how much we don't know about Him yet and how much we presume that we understand, because at the end of the day we're all trying to control things too big for us.
So that's it. Explanation over. I mean, there are logical consequences and there are things that the jury's still out on, but it's a springboard to launch off of, you know. It doesn't mean that I hate Baptists and it doesn't mean that I doubt the validity of your faith if you recognize that your journey started at an altar. We're all different and we've all got different ways of relating to the Creator. I'm not saying that there's not a universal truth, I'm saying that it's not that easy. It's not all mind and it's not all heart. And I'm not judging (as much as you think I am) and I'm not saying I've got it all figured out. But you can't say to me that 'Well, I can't give you a reason why, it's just what my faith tells me.' That is a sidestepping of the real point. Your faith is not your answer without thought. I agree, sometimes there are things that just don't make sense, that are wonderfully nonsensical, like the God of the universe that loves even me. But not every cold, hard fact and implication of your faith can be explained away with warm fuzzies. And that's where I stand.
First off, I am obviously a Christian. I believe everything in the Apostle's Creed and that is the rock basis of my faith. I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth. Without a real, present God, none of this can happen.
I believe in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord. I do believe that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah, the Christ, I believe He was the Son of God and I recognize Him as the guiding force in my life. Now, whether I listen to that force all the time or not is irrelevant to this conversation. I'm just trying like everyone else. But I believe that He is something much more than a dead leader.
Now things that aren't totally necessary to my faith, but I still believe: that He was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. If one day that turns out to be something we've misunderstood, it won't rock my core.
This next bit, however, is quite important. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day, He rose again. He ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father, from whence He shall come to judge the living and the dead. I remember reading Mere Christianity and CS Lewis saying something like the early Christians were convinced by one fact: the Resurrection. My faith hangs on that too. If Jesus of Nazareth died by crucifixion and stayed dead, then I might as well leave him on my cross because the world was not changed. But if He arose and defeated death and changed the order of the universe and freed me from captivity to sin and death, then I need to live out some thanks for that. The distant God the Father didn't save me until Jesus did.
And finally, I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. Put a parenthetical note around the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. I'm not sure it means what I always thought it meant and I'm not sure how much the gospels preach it but I'll build up that house over time. I believe in the church universal with all my being and I want to see her on this earth as she was meant to be. The Holy Spirit is the practical result of what happened when Christ came.
So that's the basics. From that, I build a little hesitantly. I am a huge fan of prevenient grace, God through the Holy Spirit working in you even before you know it. I also believe that what Christ did enables us to be delivered from sin and death by justifying grace and I believe that through the Holy Spirit again, He gives us sanctifying grace to make us more holy, to make us better. I mean, what can I say? I'm a Wesleyan sucker. But I will admit that this is all dogma that I like. I like the 'Wesley quadrilateral' too, where you make decisions based on scripture, tradition, reason and experience. Let me unpack that a little for you, as my professors are fond of saying.
Here's where I get a little annoying to other Christians, I think. I'm probably a good bit too liberal but, you know, I was this way even before I went away to college. I think I kinda hid this while I worked at camp because there's no reason to confuse kids and there's no reason to kill a good message. But this is what I think. This is how I read my bible and what other people have to say about it and this is why I get a little annoyed at people sometimes. I believe that the Bible was written by men and men with a purpose in mind. I love what my Hebrew Bible professor said about the Old Testament: It's the story of a people trying their best to worship a holy God. It was complied and edited by men who legitimately thought they were doing good by combining multiple sources and traditions together to help preserve their culture and the worship of their national God who I think is the God who created the universe. But that doesn't mean that it was written with me in mind, this far away. Even Paul's letters weren't written with me in mind. I think it's wonderful how the Holy Spirit can take things that weren't intended for me and show me something that I need to see in order to worship God with my words and my life. But that doesn't mean that I agree with the story of Joshua, which is neither historically accurate nor faithfully comforting. Maybe I'm too much of a pacifist, but I think that do not murder means don't kill, regardless of who the person you're killing is. I'm guilty right now of using the commandments in Exodus without a complete understanding of their placement in the Bible due to the historical and cultural influences at the time, so I'm as bad as the next person, but I see that I'm that bad and I see that, even from a faith perspective, you can't just sit down and say, 'What does this mean for me?' Read the Bible allegorically all you want and maybe that's the meaning that you're supposed to get out of it, but don't dream for a second that it's all about you.
I'm big on tradition, too, because it's comforting, but I'm also big on reasoning. There's an agnostic in my learning community who said that he reads Job as the powers that be, whatever they are, sending a message to man, saying, 'How dare you presume to know what I think, what I mean and what I want? Stop with your pathetic little religions. You can't even comprehend who I am.' He takes that a step farther to express his disbelief that any race can claim to have any kind of special relationship with that power that is. This makes reasonable sense to me. If I didn't have proof in the form of Christ that God cares, I might be inclined to believe what he says. I'm big on thinking for yourself, for not taking any doctrine that's shoved at you without comparing it to what makes sense and what's in the Bible, taking into account everything the Bible's got in it. I'm not saying there's layers and layers of interpretive meaning in the Bible, though I do know that you can read something new in it every time you read a passage, something that didn't make sense to you before that's revealed by the Holy Spirit. You just gotta think. God gave you a brain and free will for a reason. Now that reason might be different from what I think it is, but there's always a decent reason with my God.
And then, just to roundly make people mad, I hate altar calls. I'll come up and pray, but I am not going to tell you that every person who ever walked up in front of a congregation understands what they're getting into. There's an ocean to Christianity, to the following of the Christ, that cannot be summed up in 20 seconds praying at an altar. I hate the idea that it's all just about our 'personal relationship with Jesus Christ.' I think it's important, don't get me wrong, but there's so much more to be done for the Christian community and the community at large that gets left out when we're just good out of our personal relationship. We were made for community (arbitrary statement with proof following sometime). So I hate it when religious leaders pray out loud and give someone a single prayer to pray that's going to make everything better because that's not all that it's about. No, I realize that there's a moment, that there was a moment, when I realized that I needed help from God and that God had already made plans for this and carried them out almost 2,000 years ago. But that doesn't coincide with the time that I answered an altar call and I don't think it has to. So I hate the word 'saved.' I'm not as much of a fan of the emphasis on a personal relationship as I used to be. And I am so against forgetting how big God is and how much we don't know about Him yet and how much we presume that we understand, because at the end of the day we're all trying to control things too big for us.
So that's it. Explanation over. I mean, there are logical consequences and there are things that the jury's still out on, but it's a springboard to launch off of, you know. It doesn't mean that I hate Baptists and it doesn't mean that I doubt the validity of your faith if you recognize that your journey started at an altar. We're all different and we've all got different ways of relating to the Creator. I'm not saying that there's not a universal truth, I'm saying that it's not that easy. It's not all mind and it's not all heart. And I'm not judging (as much as you think I am) and I'm not saying I've got it all figured out. But you can't say to me that 'Well, I can't give you a reason why, it's just what my faith tells me.' That is a sidestepping of the real point. Your faith is not your answer without thought. I agree, sometimes there are things that just don't make sense, that are wonderfully nonsensical, like the God of the universe that loves even me. But not every cold, hard fact and implication of your faith can be explained away with warm fuzzies. And that's where I stand.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
A Summer Well... Spent
I saw my last firefly of the summer. A flash, seen out of the corner of my eye, was like a door closing in my face. And now that I'm doing my first laundry of the year in the bottom of Manly in a room that feels like summer hasn't left the building, I feel like reflecting on what's on the other side of that door. Things I learned this summer (in no particular order):
1. You can do many, many, many things with LEGOs. Many things. Trebuchets being my favorite, of course.
2. All children under the age of 12 think that you are over the age of 35, at best.
3. Kickball is intense and there is a real strategy to Mancala.
4. Sidney Carton is quite possibly my favorite hero in a novel.
5. You can survive off of pasta, Parmesan cheese, water and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for at least a month and a half.
6. God really is good, all the time.
7. You may not smoke, eat or drink while practicing the organ at Wesley.
8. The lights in the alley in between Newman and Wesley stay on until 12 AM.
9. Campus is gorgeous at dawn.
10. Sometimes you think that you'll ruin something just by being there.
11. Sometimes you're very wrong.
12. Where you are is where you're meant to be. If it's not, you wouldn't be there. If it's not where you're going to be, you won't be there.
13. Your heart can break and rejoice in the space of 2 seconds.
14. Mephibosheth was spared by King David. Go read about it in 2 Samuel.
15. I really don't know my summer constellations.
16. I don't know what it's like to be in love, though I do know what it's like to love Someone you can't see.
17. The Star Theater is cold. Bring a jacket.
18. Spider bites are TERRIBLE.
19. You can't swipe guests into the pool.
20. Campus is much more apparently hilly on a bike.
21. Pluto's official designation is a 'plutoid.'
22. Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is AMAZING, as is Godspell.
23. The roasted almonds are in between the pecans and the walnuts and cotton candy ice cream with butterfingers mixed-in is more popular than you would think.
24. Wesley really is like my pre-college life: The downstairs looks like South, the upstairs has the same amount of random stuff as my house, and the sanctuary reminds me like the old sanctuary at St. Luke's.
25. I should like very much to defy gravity.
Everyone asks how your summer was the first time you see them when you get back to school. What am I supposed to say? Boring? Incorrect, as I was quite busy and engaged. Unproductive? Also incorrect, I made a good little chunk of change and read a couple of books. Interesting? Perhaps, but that's not its defining feature. Oddly painful, comforting, restricting and freeing at the same time? Yes.
But I want something to show for it, something that will make me remember and make me forget, something that will cement it into my mind and be my defining triumph, like the lift in Dirty Dancing. I probably simply want to prove to myself something that cannot be proved.
For now, though, I'll carry on with school, my jobs and my friends, sit back and label the memories as summer and my summer love as God. One day that'll change, but only when the change doesn't matter.
1. You can do many, many, many things with LEGOs. Many things. Trebuchets being my favorite, of course.
2. All children under the age of 12 think that you are over the age of 35, at best.
3. Kickball is intense and there is a real strategy to Mancala.
4. Sidney Carton is quite possibly my favorite hero in a novel.
5. You can survive off of pasta, Parmesan cheese, water and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for at least a month and a half.
6. God really is good, all the time.
7. You may not smoke, eat or drink while practicing the organ at Wesley.
8. The lights in the alley in between Newman and Wesley stay on until 12 AM.
9. Campus is gorgeous at dawn.
10. Sometimes you think that you'll ruin something just by being there.
11. Sometimes you're very wrong.
12. Where you are is where you're meant to be. If it's not, you wouldn't be there. If it's not where you're going to be, you won't be there.
13. Your heart can break and rejoice in the space of 2 seconds.
14. Mephibosheth was spared by King David. Go read about it in 2 Samuel.
15. I really don't know my summer constellations.
16. I don't know what it's like to be in love, though I do know what it's like to love Someone you can't see.
17. The Star Theater is cold. Bring a jacket.
18. Spider bites are TERRIBLE.
19. You can't swipe guests into the pool.
20. Campus is much more apparently hilly on a bike.
21. Pluto's official designation is a 'plutoid.'
22. Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is AMAZING, as is Godspell.
23. The roasted almonds are in between the pecans and the walnuts and cotton candy ice cream with butterfingers mixed-in is more popular than you would think.
24. Wesley really is like my pre-college life: The downstairs looks like South, the upstairs has the same amount of random stuff as my house, and the sanctuary reminds me like the old sanctuary at St. Luke's.
25. I should like very much to defy gravity.
Everyone asks how your summer was the first time you see them when you get back to school. What am I supposed to say? Boring? Incorrect, as I was quite busy and engaged. Unproductive? Also incorrect, I made a good little chunk of change and read a couple of books. Interesting? Perhaps, but that's not its defining feature. Oddly painful, comforting, restricting and freeing at the same time? Yes.
But I want something to show for it, something that will make me remember and make me forget, something that will cement it into my mind and be my defining triumph, like the lift in Dirty Dancing. I probably simply want to prove to myself something that cannot be proved.
For now, though, I'll carry on with school, my jobs and my friends, sit back and label the memories as summer and my summer love as God. One day that'll change, but only when the change doesn't matter.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
About Standards
Lafou, I'm afraid I've been thinking. A dangerous pastime, I know.
My thinking is more of the to-get-me-off-the-hook kind of thinking than anything else. I've been thinking about people and how we are and whether we're all really messed up or whether we're really OK on the inside, with a few bumps and bruises (or major amputations and gushing flesh wounds for some) on the outside. If we're all pretty much good, if par for the course is being a decent human being, then this whole savior business is a bit over the top. I mean, we'll get along just fine here, if we're all decent at the core, and then we'll see what happens afterwards, no need for divine intervention in each human life. But if we're screwed up inside and we're headed forever in the wrong direction, then we're screwed for here and the hereafter if there's no savior. So it really depends on us, how we really are, whether there's a need for me to go through all the 'saved life' trouble.
Enter Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. I've been wanting to reference this for some time (and what does that say about my life?). At the beginning of Act Two, Dr. Horrible (LOVE Neil Patrick Harris) and Penny sing about their views of the world. 'I cannot believe my eyes, how the world's filled with filth and lies,' and 'I cannot believe my eyes- is the world finally growing wise?' Penny's got the happy view, obviously, since she doesn't end the musical by being inducted into the Evil League of Evil, with good in the homeless people and Captain Hammer, corporate tool. She also sees the good in Billy, aka Doctor Horrible, but he only sees the problems in the world. Now, I'm sure that someone out there has come up with the perfect idea- combine the two together. See the bad and the good in the world and fix the bad while you cherish the good. Which is lovely, I'm all for that instead of cutting off the head of the human race, but the question still remains- is the bad from our cores, or is it from the outside? Is there good in everybody's heart, to keep safe and sound, or do we listen close to everybody's heart only to hear the breaking sound?
So say that nobody's perfect, but nobody's perfectly bad either. Can I say that? Is that right? Because it seems to me that we've all got that part of us that needs to die- in some, it's bigger than others, but remember the good thief is just as clean as the rest of us. At the same time, we've all got some good, some something that is worth saving, something that demands a savior because it cannot be allowed to perish with all the rest of the junk that we toss out when we throw in the towel at the end of our metaphorical day. If you like to toss around the world soul, I'd call that our soul. At the end of a semester talking about heaven and hell (for class credit, I may add), my last essay for my exam about the nature of the soul ended with the idea that perhaps a soul isn't something that we can identify. Maybe it's the part of us that God loves, for whatever reasons He loves us. The part worth saving.
Now to the getting-me-off-the-hook part. If everyone's broken on some level, then I'm fine if I'm broken too. Par for the course. And if I'm just as worth saving as the next person, then just being saved is enough, like the next person. Except I'm not off the hook. No matter how I reason that no one's perfect, that they don't have to be better so why do I, that I don't have to change the status-quo in my life because my life isn't really that bad, I still get stuck with this discomfort, like I know better and I'm ignoring something. I know what causes the discomfort. I know why it's here and I know what I need to do.
I just can't try hard enough to be good enough to make the discomfort go away. If it's not one thing, it's another. We're called to be better, to do better, to show the world that there is better out there and to tell them how to get to it, to work on the metaphorical evil laugh, if you will. But these results of our call are all just symptoms. The cause is something crazy-scary-terribly deep. We're not doing anything for our own sanctification, or we're not supposed to be, anyway. We're not in this to get something out of it, heaven or a better life or whatever. We are in this because we love this Man and we're ready to follow Him with everything. Christian meets the cross pretty early in Pilgrim's Progress. There's so much more to life after salvation. But you can't live it peaceably unless you're willing to live it. Every second of every day, you're called to do superhuman things not for yourself, not even for others, but for Him. You don't sneak candy bars off the line and call it part of your shift treat when you really just wanted one. You don't sleep in until 11 because you don't want to be bothered with living any more hours of life than you have to. You don't write off a kid because he's not paying attention, a problem causer and just kinda out there. You don't cut corners on any job. You don't assume that someone else is going to help. You be better because He deserves your better, your best, not your barely coping.
And you can't do this by yourself. You can't be the best every second of every day. It doesn't happen. You break down- gravity stops us, I think, or something kinda like it. The friction of a soul that's fighting the system. So after you try to do this alone and fail, you realize that you need something else and it has to be supernatural. No promises that you won't still fall, but promises that you will be what you were meant to be all along. Oh, the Holy Spirit. I wish I understood this better. Somewhere along the way, after you've promised Christ that you can indeed pick up your cross and after you've realized that the spirit might be more willing than the weak flesh, but it's not winning any races, you realize that your spirit has to be His. You have to trade out your brokenness for His peace, His wholeness, because your brokenness patched up isn't going to cut it.
But even then, you still have to pick up your mat. The wonderful thing about God is that He'll take your barely coping, He'll take your brokenness, anything you want to offer up, He's ready and willing to have because He isn't prideful like us. He doesn't say to us, 'No, you rejected me. I'm not going to take your crap anymore.' He doesn't deserve it, but we can't give Him what He deserves until He brings us to it. We have to be better- and I just found this out: To be better, you have to do better. No one's going to study for you, to make you the best in the class. Those people actually work for it. No one's going to keep you accountable every step of your every day. You've got to choose to do the supernatural- the Spirit is willing when you are. Oh, but what a choice!
Last day at Wesley. I vacuumed up a ton of hair and blue fuzz (why is the entirety of my life covered in blue fuzz? Isn't dust grey?) and I cleaned the shower and the sinks and washed some dishes and moved a couch and rearranged my room. Feeling celebratory and hoping that that one guy who was supposed to move in hadn't yet or at least didn't mind piano playing, I headed down to the sanctuary. Last time in there, just me and God chilling. Sometimes I'm not sure that He wouldn't rather me stay in my room where I can keep my hypocrisy to myself and not pretend like we're on good speaking terms when I sing to Him, but I can find Him there. Or maybe it's that I'm more willing to search for Him there. Anyway, I walked out, past the furnishings and random things that remind me of the home I grew up in and down the staircase to the bricks and chairs that remind me of the high school I should have wised up in and into the room that if it had green carpet would remind me of the sanctuary that I first sang in. You get to be privy next to the hymn that I ended on. 'Are Ye Able?'
“Are ye able,” said the Master,
“To be crucified with Me?”
“Yea,” the sturdy dreamers answered,
“To the death we follow Thee.”
Lord, we are able. Our spirits are Thine.
Remold them, make us, like Thee, divine.
Thy guiding radiance above us shall be
A beacon to God, to love and loyalty.
I've been a sturdy dreamer (Mark 10:35-40, BTW) for quite some time. I'm a talker. I'm big on telling people to do, but I'm not so big on actually doing, you understand. That's why there's a refrain, so people like me can get it into our minds by singing it multiple times. Yes, I'm able, when my spirit's His and I'm made like Him. And it has happy consequences. Now I know the fine print is important and that you have to do everything in the fine print to make life work out, but that's not the point. The point, my friends, the point is, that I am able. So I will.
My thinking is more of the to-get-me-off-the-hook kind of thinking than anything else. I've been thinking about people and how we are and whether we're all really messed up or whether we're really OK on the inside, with a few bumps and bruises (or major amputations and gushing flesh wounds for some) on the outside. If we're all pretty much good, if par for the course is being a decent human being, then this whole savior business is a bit over the top. I mean, we'll get along just fine here, if we're all decent at the core, and then we'll see what happens afterwards, no need for divine intervention in each human life. But if we're screwed up inside and we're headed forever in the wrong direction, then we're screwed for here and the hereafter if there's no savior. So it really depends on us, how we really are, whether there's a need for me to go through all the 'saved life' trouble.
Enter Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. I've been wanting to reference this for some time (and what does that say about my life?). At the beginning of Act Two, Dr. Horrible (LOVE Neil Patrick Harris) and Penny sing about their views of the world. 'I cannot believe my eyes, how the world's filled with filth and lies,' and 'I cannot believe my eyes- is the world finally growing wise?' Penny's got the happy view, obviously, since she doesn't end the musical by being inducted into the Evil League of Evil, with good in the homeless people and Captain Hammer, corporate tool. She also sees the good in Billy, aka Doctor Horrible, but he only sees the problems in the world. Now, I'm sure that someone out there has come up with the perfect idea- combine the two together. See the bad and the good in the world and fix the bad while you cherish the good. Which is lovely, I'm all for that instead of cutting off the head of the human race, but the question still remains- is the bad from our cores, or is it from the outside? Is there good in everybody's heart, to keep safe and sound, or do we listen close to everybody's heart only to hear the breaking sound?
So say that nobody's perfect, but nobody's perfectly bad either. Can I say that? Is that right? Because it seems to me that we've all got that part of us that needs to die- in some, it's bigger than others, but remember the good thief is just as clean as the rest of us. At the same time, we've all got some good, some something that is worth saving, something that demands a savior because it cannot be allowed to perish with all the rest of the junk that we toss out when we throw in the towel at the end of our metaphorical day. If you like to toss around the world soul, I'd call that our soul. At the end of a semester talking about heaven and hell (for class credit, I may add), my last essay for my exam about the nature of the soul ended with the idea that perhaps a soul isn't something that we can identify. Maybe it's the part of us that God loves, for whatever reasons He loves us. The part worth saving.
Now to the getting-me-off-the-hook part. If everyone's broken on some level, then I'm fine if I'm broken too. Par for the course. And if I'm just as worth saving as the next person, then just being saved is enough, like the next person. Except I'm not off the hook. No matter how I reason that no one's perfect, that they don't have to be better so why do I, that I don't have to change the status-quo in my life because my life isn't really that bad, I still get stuck with this discomfort, like I know better and I'm ignoring something. I know what causes the discomfort. I know why it's here and I know what I need to do.
I just can't try hard enough to be good enough to make the discomfort go away. If it's not one thing, it's another. We're called to be better, to do better, to show the world that there is better out there and to tell them how to get to it, to work on the metaphorical evil laugh, if you will. But these results of our call are all just symptoms. The cause is something crazy-scary-terribly deep. We're not doing anything for our own sanctification, or we're not supposed to be, anyway. We're not in this to get something out of it, heaven or a better life or whatever. We are in this because we love this Man and we're ready to follow Him with everything. Christian meets the cross pretty early in Pilgrim's Progress. There's so much more to life after salvation. But you can't live it peaceably unless you're willing to live it. Every second of every day, you're called to do superhuman things not for yourself, not even for others, but for Him. You don't sneak candy bars off the line and call it part of your shift treat when you really just wanted one. You don't sleep in until 11 because you don't want to be bothered with living any more hours of life than you have to. You don't write off a kid because he's not paying attention, a problem causer and just kinda out there. You don't cut corners on any job. You don't assume that someone else is going to help. You be better because He deserves your better, your best, not your barely coping.
And you can't do this by yourself. You can't be the best every second of every day. It doesn't happen. You break down- gravity stops us, I think, or something kinda like it. The friction of a soul that's fighting the system. So after you try to do this alone and fail, you realize that you need something else and it has to be supernatural. No promises that you won't still fall, but promises that you will be what you were meant to be all along. Oh, the Holy Spirit. I wish I understood this better. Somewhere along the way, after you've promised Christ that you can indeed pick up your cross and after you've realized that the spirit might be more willing than the weak flesh, but it's not winning any races, you realize that your spirit has to be His. You have to trade out your brokenness for His peace, His wholeness, because your brokenness patched up isn't going to cut it.
But even then, you still have to pick up your mat. The wonderful thing about God is that He'll take your barely coping, He'll take your brokenness, anything you want to offer up, He's ready and willing to have because He isn't prideful like us. He doesn't say to us, 'No, you rejected me. I'm not going to take your crap anymore.' He doesn't deserve it, but we can't give Him what He deserves until He brings us to it. We have to be better- and I just found this out: To be better, you have to do better. No one's going to study for you, to make you the best in the class. Those people actually work for it. No one's going to keep you accountable every step of your every day. You've got to choose to do the supernatural- the Spirit is willing when you are. Oh, but what a choice!
Last day at Wesley. I vacuumed up a ton of hair and blue fuzz (why is the entirety of my life covered in blue fuzz? Isn't dust grey?) and I cleaned the shower and the sinks and washed some dishes and moved a couch and rearranged my room. Feeling celebratory and hoping that that one guy who was supposed to move in hadn't yet or at least didn't mind piano playing, I headed down to the sanctuary. Last time in there, just me and God chilling. Sometimes I'm not sure that He wouldn't rather me stay in my room where I can keep my hypocrisy to myself and not pretend like we're on good speaking terms when I sing to Him, but I can find Him there. Or maybe it's that I'm more willing to search for Him there. Anyway, I walked out, past the furnishings and random things that remind me of the home I grew up in and down the staircase to the bricks and chairs that remind me of the high school I should have wised up in and into the room that if it had green carpet would remind me of the sanctuary that I first sang in. You get to be privy next to the hymn that I ended on. 'Are Ye Able?'
“Are ye able,” said the Master,
“To be crucified with Me?”
“Yea,” the sturdy dreamers answered,
“To the death we follow Thee.”
Lord, we are able. Our spirits are Thine.
Remold them, make us, like Thee, divine.
Thy guiding radiance above us shall be
A beacon to God, to love and loyalty.
I've been a sturdy dreamer (Mark 10:35-40, BTW) for quite some time. I'm a talker. I'm big on telling people to do, but I'm not so big on actually doing, you understand. That's why there's a refrain, so people like me can get it into our minds by singing it multiple times. Yes, I'm able, when my spirit's His and I'm made like Him. And it has happy consequences. Now I know the fine print is important and that you have to do everything in the fine print to make life work out, but that's not the point. The point, my friends, the point is, that I am able. So I will.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Thundering Whispers
I've been racing in front of the storm for a while.
It's my favorite kind of weather, right before a storm. The wind picks up, huge clouds billow around, the air smells like rain and the world waits, anticipating the rain that comes to clean the ground and the thunder that comes to shake loose our hearts. I love the smell of rain, especially summer rain, coming down onto hot pavement and giving the world a momentary reprieve from the sun. It makes me feel alive, to listen to the electricity crackling in the air and let the wind blow through my hair and the rain kiss my face. I know that one day, far too soon, these things will abandon me to the deadness of the dull winter sun or the chillness of a sad winter rain. I hang onto my summer storms, running out from the dry safety of a building to dance in them, sing in them, stand in them, as long as the ground holds me up and the air lets me breathe. How much more do I hang onto those fleeting moments before the sky opens up, when you can still see a little bit of the blue heaven before the clouds cover it entirely, when the wind greets you like an old friend and challenges you to a race before the world? These things, my friends, are glorious and come into my life just rarely enough to be always welcome.
My heart still beating entirely too fast for the simple approach of a storm, I almost fly across a darkened quad, mistaking the lights of cars going down Cameron for fireflies and wishing that there really were lightning bugs to distract my attention from their namesake. The quad is quiet- for all I know, it could just be me, the quad and the storm stealing minutes from eternity. Keys out, I unlock my bike, take off the rain cover and actually hop on, pedaling like crazy to outrun the downpour, to escape the clouds, to hide in safety from the still-distant lightning. I speed by Hill Hall and perhaps on another night I would be struck by its proud stance in the face of such a storm, but not tonight. My mind is racing as fast as my bike, jumping from seventeen to nineteen to twenty and the things I would take back and the things I would keep and everything that I would have done. I'm coasting down the small hill across the street from Phillips and Peabody before my mind takes up the idea that my fear, my urgency, my race is quite ridiculous. The thunder, right on cue, claps again, and I wake up and pedal faster.
Across Columbia, flitting by frat houses and my bike begins to feel like my noble steed, carrying me far from the troubles that chase me. Victorious, I come down a hill and turn on to Pittsboro, pedaling like a child who rides his bike fast just because he can or who stands at the top of a hill on her rollerblades, taking a breath just before she starts down, flying into the grassy bank at the bottom, speeding up on the way down just to say she did. It's the only kind of speed I indulge in these days, the kind that says that I can but choose not to, the kind that lets you feel empowered because you and nobody but you taught that bike how to fly or those shoes how to soar. I run to feel the power in my legs, not because I need to. Needed to.
Lightning flashes in front of me as I swing into the driveway by Wesley but no matter- I'm back now, I'm safe. I wonder why I don't just sit down on the picnic tables, wait for the storm to come before heading inside. I lock up my bike and suddenly the urgency's back. I fumble with my keys before opening the door in a hurry and almost run up the stairs once I'm inside. I could sit in the sanctuary and listen to the storm before darkness takes over the world, but I don't. I'm safe, inside, doing household chores for a quarter of an hour before my heart slows down and I stop listening for the rain. I don't understand my panic, the need to run away from the storm instead of just dancing in it. Storms scare us all, as kids, even if it was only the first time we heard the thunder and didn't know what it was, but I've long since learned that there are much more terrible things in the world than summer thunderstorms. Why should I want to hide from one?
I'm not courageous. Sometimes I think I'm the most cowardly person I know. But then again, I always doubted whether the Cowardly Lion was just faking when I was little. I mean, sure, the Tinman couldn't help that he didn't have a heart, poor dear, and the Scarecrow didn't have much choice, with straw for brains, bless his soul. But the Cowardly Lion never made sense to me. Where does courage come from anyway?
Storms mean change. The world is never quite the same after its been rained on. Every good story needs a storm. Maybe that's why I love standing in front of one so much- it's like reading a book when you know what the end must come out to be, but you have no idea how it will get there. Before a storm, you know that things are going to be wet, that there will be puddles to jump in, but you have no clue how the clouds are going to achieve this. Will there be torrential downpours for a few minutes or light drizzle with a good solid rain near the end? Will the wind pick up and sling the drops invasively into people or will it lie low once the rain has started, letting it drop gently onto the waiting earth? Before a storm, existence is uncertain expectation with an end in mind. I think that I would love to live life that way.
Sometimes I think the thunderclouds know the great questions in my life. Maybe I stand in front of them because I want to listen. Maybe I ran because I've heard them talking and I'm not ready to do what they say. You know, when you hear, there's no excuse not to do.
Are you going to leave Me? No? Then do you love Me? More than you know?
Then follow Me.
Where? Does it matter? You're with Me. I'm not going to let you get lost. I love you. How will we get there? You'll see. Do you trust Me?
Then come.
It's my favorite kind of weather, right before a storm. The wind picks up, huge clouds billow around, the air smells like rain and the world waits, anticipating the rain that comes to clean the ground and the thunder that comes to shake loose our hearts. I love the smell of rain, especially summer rain, coming down onto hot pavement and giving the world a momentary reprieve from the sun. It makes me feel alive, to listen to the electricity crackling in the air and let the wind blow through my hair and the rain kiss my face. I know that one day, far too soon, these things will abandon me to the deadness of the dull winter sun or the chillness of a sad winter rain. I hang onto my summer storms, running out from the dry safety of a building to dance in them, sing in them, stand in them, as long as the ground holds me up and the air lets me breathe. How much more do I hang onto those fleeting moments before the sky opens up, when you can still see a little bit of the blue heaven before the clouds cover it entirely, when the wind greets you like an old friend and challenges you to a race before the world? These things, my friends, are glorious and come into my life just rarely enough to be always welcome.
And yet, tonight I wanted to run from the storm, from any indication of a storm. The story starts mundanely, as all the best ones do- business wasn't exactly booming on Franklin and I left work early. On the way out, I passed the homeless man sitting on the bench outside of the store, almost hid my face from the two down the road because I had bought them dinner last Monday and didn't have the same means tonight and power walked down to the corner before the lightning caught my eye. My heart sped up, my chest felt tight and I'm sure a little panic flashed over my face. I cross the street and another glance up at the sky finally links back into my mind that my bike is sitting behind Graham Memorial with its seat rain-cover on, waiting on me to save it from the storm. Thunder cracks, and not too far in the distance as I speed down the other side of Franklin. On the steps of University United Methodist, the homeless man from in front of Cold Stone fluffs his newspaper pillow and settles down behind a column. At the bus stop in front of the church, the pregnant lady I served chocolate with marshmallows and roasted almonds to sits and laughs with her mother, unaware that someone behind her won't be listening to the sounds of the rain on his roof, safe from the wet, as she will be as soon as the bus pulls around to take her home.
My heart still beating entirely too fast for the simple approach of a storm, I almost fly across a darkened quad, mistaking the lights of cars going down Cameron for fireflies and wishing that there really were lightning bugs to distract my attention from their namesake. The quad is quiet- for all I know, it could just be me, the quad and the storm stealing minutes from eternity. Keys out, I unlock my bike, take off the rain cover and actually hop on, pedaling like crazy to outrun the downpour, to escape the clouds, to hide in safety from the still-distant lightning. I speed by Hill Hall and perhaps on another night I would be struck by its proud stance in the face of such a storm, but not tonight. My mind is racing as fast as my bike, jumping from seventeen to nineteen to twenty and the things I would take back and the things I would keep and everything that I would have done. I'm coasting down the small hill across the street from Phillips and Peabody before my mind takes up the idea that my fear, my urgency, my race is quite ridiculous. The thunder, right on cue, claps again, and I wake up and pedal faster.
Across Columbia, flitting by frat houses and my bike begins to feel like my noble steed, carrying me far from the troubles that chase me. Victorious, I come down a hill and turn on to Pittsboro, pedaling like a child who rides his bike fast just because he can or who stands at the top of a hill on her rollerblades, taking a breath just before she starts down, flying into the grassy bank at the bottom, speeding up on the way down just to say she did. It's the only kind of speed I indulge in these days, the kind that says that I can but choose not to, the kind that lets you feel empowered because you and nobody but you taught that bike how to fly or those shoes how to soar. I run to feel the power in my legs, not because I need to. Needed to.
Lightning flashes in front of me as I swing into the driveway by Wesley but no matter- I'm back now, I'm safe. I wonder why I don't just sit down on the picnic tables, wait for the storm to come before heading inside. I lock up my bike and suddenly the urgency's back. I fumble with my keys before opening the door in a hurry and almost run up the stairs once I'm inside. I could sit in the sanctuary and listen to the storm before darkness takes over the world, but I don't. I'm safe, inside, doing household chores for a quarter of an hour before my heart slows down and I stop listening for the rain. I don't understand my panic, the need to run away from the storm instead of just dancing in it. Storms scare us all, as kids, even if it was only the first time we heard the thunder and didn't know what it was, but I've long since learned that there are much more terrible things in the world than summer thunderstorms. Why should I want to hide from one?
I'm not courageous. Sometimes I think I'm the most cowardly person I know. But then again, I always doubted whether the Cowardly Lion was just faking when I was little. I mean, sure, the Tinman couldn't help that he didn't have a heart, poor dear, and the Scarecrow didn't have much choice, with straw for brains, bless his soul. But the Cowardly Lion never made sense to me. Where does courage come from anyway?
Storms mean change. The world is never quite the same after its been rained on. Every good story needs a storm. Maybe that's why I love standing in front of one so much- it's like reading a book when you know what the end must come out to be, but you have no idea how it will get there. Before a storm, you know that things are going to be wet, that there will be puddles to jump in, but you have no clue how the clouds are going to achieve this. Will there be torrential downpours for a few minutes or light drizzle with a good solid rain near the end? Will the wind pick up and sling the drops invasively into people or will it lie low once the rain has started, letting it drop gently onto the waiting earth? Before a storm, existence is uncertain expectation with an end in mind. I think that I would love to live life that way.
Sometimes I think the thunderclouds know the great questions in my life. Maybe I stand in front of them because I want to listen. Maybe I ran because I've heard them talking and I'm not ready to do what they say. You know, when you hear, there's no excuse not to do.
Are you going to leave Me? No? Then do you love Me? More than you know?
Then follow Me.
Where? Does it matter? You're with Me. I'm not going to let you get lost. I love you. How will we get there? You'll see. Do you trust Me?
Then come.
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