My sister points out that my June blog post titles, read in sequence actually make an interesting paragraph:
"Get out of the Boat! You are not a tasty piece of meat. Calvinists, Arminians, Meritocracy, and Coffee: until we meet again, Entschuldigung. Thank you, Lord, for my knees' patterns of behavior, the lie grab-bag asking the question, "Why?" Remember, tell Checkers what you want me to do, unemotional woman."
Perhaps from here on out, I should come up with less creative titles? :-)
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Get out of the Boat
and after a long days night,
we have nothing to show.
why would we put out into deep water
in the late morning sun?
is Jesus big enough?
can I believe that?
will I fall to my knees amidst
smelly fish,
or be satisfied mending nets
stuck in my boat
as the great Fisher of Men
walks away?
or casting nets.
dare you to dream,
to dock the boat,
set foot on dry ground,
smelly fish still flopping?
ludicrous in a fisherman's world.
“follow me,” says he.
“I’m calling you to something
so much greater.”
“come. follow. me.”
three commands, not one.
is your vision big enough,
to get out of the boat?
Jesus got in the boat;
will you get out?
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
you are not a tasty piece of meat.
I live about three miles from campus... so during the summers when my schedule is somewhat more flexible, I like to walk to campus. It's good exercise, good thinking time, gas-saving, and more environmentally friendly. But before I begin that long trek, I careful pick out my outfit:
... baggy t-shirt, athletic shorts or loose fitting pants, and baseball cap...
Basically anything that hides my figure and discourages stares.
Now, for those of you who know me, you know that I don't dress particularly immodestly, as a rule. But when I go out walking roadside, I feel the need to take special precaution, not just to be modest, but even to make myself unattractive. Why? Because somehow, the fact that I'm walking beside the road apparently gives permission for men to beep their horns, gawk in rear-view mirrors, yell obscene comments, and slow down to peruse more closely. Perhaps this happens in shopping malls and grocery stores as well, but is less apparent since shopping carts don't come equipped with horns.
Regardless. In one three mile trek, I often feel that I lose my humanity, my individuality, and my femininity. Perhaps the grocery store would be a more appropriate location to be, because then, treated as a piece of meat, I could at least find my way to the frozen foods section.
But, before you get huffy... my guess is... most of the women (and some of the men) reading this can identify in some way, shape or form with the tenderized meat sensation. And most of the individuals reading this would never dream of treating a woman (or man) in said manner. So breathe. But keep reading...
I initially crafted this post as a rant against car horns, degrading comments, and cat-calls. But, as I think about it more, I think that misses the point. The deeper question which I think we have to ask ourselves, is: do I treat every man, woman and child with the respect which their image-bearing identity merits?
Women: we might not holler obscenities out the windows of our cars, but if we see a handsome man, and immediately picture him holding our two and half children, and opening the door to our shiny blue mini-van (hybrid, of course), are we really respecting his individual identity and humanity? Really?!?
Or, men: you might not gawk in rear-view mirrors, but if you are coming down hard on another guy because he's a "pansy" or he's "not like the other guys" or he's "acting like a girl," are you really affirming his masculinity and identity?
Or, if we stare with distaste at the noisy children on aisle 7 of the grocery store, tilt our noses down at the prostitute on the street corner in downtown Raleigh, talk about our female classmates or friends as "sluts" or "whores," thumb our noses at the food-service employee who can't speak enough English to take our order, or curse the driver on I-95 who can't seem to drive straight, are we really and truly affirming them as made in God's image, human by definition? Individuals? Masculine and feminine?
I guess the question is, can we use our voices to restore individuality, to affirm femininity and masculinity, rather than to denigrate and tear down?
Or, can we, you and I, strive to see the image-bearer in everyone, be that the prostitute on the street-corner, the bad driver on I-95, or the annoying teenager holding the hot dogs in the grocery store line beside you?
... baggy t-shirt, athletic shorts or loose fitting pants, and baseball cap...
Basically anything that hides my figure and discourages stares.
Now, for those of you who know me, you know that I don't dress particularly immodestly, as a rule. But when I go out walking roadside, I feel the need to take special precaution, not just to be modest, but even to make myself unattractive. Why? Because somehow, the fact that I'm walking beside the road apparently gives permission for men to beep their horns, gawk in rear-view mirrors, yell obscene comments, and slow down to peruse more closely. Perhaps this happens in shopping malls and grocery stores as well, but is less apparent since shopping carts don't come equipped with horns.
Regardless. In one three mile trek, I often feel that I lose my humanity, my individuality, and my femininity. Perhaps the grocery store would be a more appropriate location to be, because then, treated as a piece of meat, I could at least find my way to the frozen foods section.
But, before you get huffy... my guess is... most of the women (and some of the men) reading this can identify in some way, shape or form with the tenderized meat sensation. And most of the individuals reading this would never dream of treating a woman (or man) in said manner. So breathe. But keep reading...
I initially crafted this post as a rant against car horns, degrading comments, and cat-calls. But, as I think about it more, I think that misses the point. The deeper question which I think we have to ask ourselves, is: do I treat every man, woman and child with the respect which their image-bearing identity merits?
Women: we might not holler obscenities out the windows of our cars, but if we see a handsome man, and immediately picture him holding our two and half children, and opening the door to our shiny blue mini-van (hybrid, of course), are we really respecting his individual identity and humanity? Really?!?
Or, men: you might not gawk in rear-view mirrors, but if you are coming down hard on another guy because he's a "pansy" or he's "not like the other guys" or he's "acting like a girl," are you really affirming his masculinity and identity?
Or, if we stare with distaste at the noisy children on aisle 7 of the grocery store, tilt our noses down at the prostitute on the street corner in downtown Raleigh, talk about our female classmates or friends as "sluts" or "whores," thumb our noses at the food-service employee who can't speak enough English to take our order, or curse the driver on I-95 who can't seem to drive straight, are we really and truly affirming them as made in God's image, human by definition? Individuals? Masculine and feminine?
genesis 1:27, 31"so God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them... God saw all that he had made, and it was very good..."
I guess the question is, can we use our voices to restore individuality, to affirm femininity and masculinity, rather than to denigrate and tear down?
Or, can we, you and I, strive to see the image-bearer in everyone, be that the prostitute on the street-corner, the bad driver on I-95, or the annoying teenager holding the hot dogs in the grocery store line beside you?
Monday, June 23, 2008
Calvinists, Arminians, Meritocracy, and Coffee
The other day, I was sitting with some friends in Barnes and Noble, drinking a cup of coffee, as per usual, and the conversation fell, as per usual, to theological issues. Today, the topic of discussion was predestination versus free will. And as one friend eloquently gave his dissertation on predestination, I found myself departing from the conversation into my own world of reflection... allow me to take you there for a few moments...
There are several tenets of faith that both Calvinists (predestinationalists) and Arminians (free-willers) hold to be true. While they differ on election and irresistibility of grace, both agree on the total depravity of mankind and the substitutionary nature and effects of Christ's death, limited to and only received by the elect. Further, both agree that humankind is unable to know their need for salvation or fully understand the Gospel, unless the Holy Spirit first shows them their need. While Arminians then go on to claim that such a nudging from the Holy Spirit is resistible, and Calvinists would say that it is irresistible, both (with a few exceptions) agree that humankind cannot recognize their own depravity or fully grasp the Gospel hope without the Holy Spirit.
So why the theology lesson?
You see, friends, my revere was sparked, not by deep intellectual thought, but by a profound sadness in realizing that I had once again fallen into the pattern of missing the Gospel.
Don't miss what I'm saying for the words: I fully believe the Gospel to be true. And I live my life accordingly. Yet, often times, I fall into a system of meritocracy in which I begin to realize my own depravity, but rather than leaning into the cross, I start buying into the idea that I don't deserve love, grace, salvation, friendship, funding, good things, you name it. And the truth is, I don't deserve any of those. But instead of seeing my own depravity as a source of freedom, I see my failures as a reason to strive harder. To work harder. To punish myself, until I am sufficiently pardoned. Even to work harder to understand the Gospel. And when I fail, we begin that cycle again. Meritocracy. You are only given what you deserve. And the fact is, I don't deserve very much at all.
But friends, therein, I miss the Gospel.
The power of the Gospel is that Jesus died for me while I was entirely undeserving, merit-less, and messed-up. Total Depravity. I can do nothing to earn it. In fact, I cannot even recognize my need for the Gospel, or its totality, without the Holy Spirit's nudging. The beauty of the Gospel is that it is entirely substitutionary-- Jesus' actions, not mine. And it is God's free gift to you and to me. I am given worth and meaning, because God created me in his own image, called it good, and is now actively redeeming, restoring, and making me whole. Not on my own merit, but because of His goodness. And it is only through the Holy Spirit that we begin to grasp the fullness of that gift.
So friends, forgive me if I disappeared temporarily from the conversation over coffee. But thank you, for sparking a conversation which left room for the Holy Spirit to do His work.
Simply put: no matter how old you are, no matter how many times you've heard or spoken the Gospel, the Holy Spirit always will have work to do, revealing to us, over and over again, the depths of our depravity and the incomparable depth of the Gospel freedom.
There are several tenets of faith that both Calvinists (predestinationalists) and Arminians (free-willers) hold to be true. While they differ on election and irresistibility of grace, both agree on the total depravity of mankind and the substitutionary nature and effects of Christ's death, limited to and only received by the elect. Further, both agree that humankind is unable to know their need for salvation or fully understand the Gospel, unless the Holy Spirit first shows them their need. While Arminians then go on to claim that such a nudging from the Holy Spirit is resistible, and Calvinists would say that it is irresistible, both (with a few exceptions) agree that humankind cannot recognize their own depravity or fully grasp the Gospel hope without the Holy Spirit.
So why the theology lesson?
You see, friends, my revere was sparked, not by deep intellectual thought, but by a profound sadness in realizing that I had once again fallen into the pattern of missing the Gospel.
Don't miss what I'm saying for the words: I fully believe the Gospel to be true. And I live my life accordingly. Yet, often times, I fall into a system of meritocracy in which I begin to realize my own depravity, but rather than leaning into the cross, I start buying into the idea that I don't deserve love, grace, salvation, friendship, funding, good things, you name it. And the truth is, I don't deserve any of those. But instead of seeing my own depravity as a source of freedom, I see my failures as a reason to strive harder. To work harder. To punish myself, until I am sufficiently pardoned. Even to work harder to understand the Gospel. And when I fail, we begin that cycle again. Meritocracy. You are only given what you deserve. And the fact is, I don't deserve very much at all.
But friends, therein, I miss the Gospel.
The power of the Gospel is that Jesus died for me while I was entirely undeserving, merit-less, and messed-up. Total Depravity. I can do nothing to earn it. In fact, I cannot even recognize my need for the Gospel, or its totality, without the Holy Spirit's nudging. The beauty of the Gospel is that it is entirely substitutionary-- Jesus' actions, not mine. And it is God's free gift to you and to me. I am given worth and meaning, because God created me in his own image, called it good, and is now actively redeeming, restoring, and making me whole. Not on my own merit, but because of His goodness. And it is only through the Holy Spirit that we begin to grasp the fullness of that gift.
So friends, forgive me if I disappeared temporarily from the conversation over coffee. But thank you, for sparking a conversation which left room for the Holy Spirit to do His work.
Simply put: no matter how old you are, no matter how many times you've heard or spoken the Gospel, the Holy Spirit always will have work to do, revealing to us, over and over again, the depths of our depravity and the incomparable depth of the Gospel freedom.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Until we meet again...
Guilty confession 1: I absolutely love Jane Austin's "Pride and Prejudice." Rarely will I confess to truly loving a so-called "chick-flick," but the reality is... the movie is absolutely brilliant, and the book even more so. Bravo, and well done.
Guilty confession 2: I am absolutely terrible at goodbyes. I loathe them. I resist them. And I do not know how to do them well. So, I compromise with a two-armed hug and awkward two-thump back-pat, saying a quick "goodbye," and then turning towards the door.
The other night, my Rachel, Betsey, and Whitney and I were talking about goodbyes, as we near the necessity of our own goodbye. The conversation has stuck with me, and I have since pondered the subject many a time. I realized that one of the reasons that I hate goodbyes so adamantly is that they represent the in-between, a period of finality and uncertainty simultaneously; they are, in a word, the middle-ground. Goodbye represents the closing of one door before another is opened. And in so doing, I often feel that I am caught in between two realities, past and future, without being fully present in either.
J.K. Rowling, British author of the Harry Potter series, creates many terms, concepts, and wizarding devices in her extraordinary creativity. Her characters, when they reach a suitable age, of course, are able to practice disapparition, which is a nifty method of disappearing from one place to instantaneously re-appear in another (similar to teleportation). The risk, for an inexperienced wizard, is splinching, or only taking half of one's body along. In other words (and I promise, this has a point), a wizard haphazardly practicing apparition might find his body split between two locations.
Goodbye, to me, often feels similar: half of me remains where I have been, while the other part continues on to the new destination.
And perhaps this is why I hate goodbyes so desperately... I detest feeling as if I am woman divided. Yet, inevitably, I must move forward. It is entirely futile for me to attempt to remain in the past or forgo the future. But how to do it well?
Perhaps the trick is quite simple, really. Perhaps the trick is to never say goodbye. In German, the expression for "goodbye" is auf wiedersehen. Translated literally, it means "on see again." In French, it is "au revoir" or "with again to see." In Russian до свидания means "towards with seeing." Goodbye simply does not cut it, because without the hope of a future which encompasses and is firmly anchored in the present, our lives do feel splinched, divided, incomplete.
So instead of goodbye, let me boldly declare "until I see you again," in the hope and expectation that our paths will again intersect. Therefore, at the risk of being sappy and cheesy all rolled-into-one, let me borrow from Vitamin C, and quote:
As we go on, we remember/All the times we had together/And as our lives change, from whatever/We will still be, friends forever
I keep, I keep thinking that it's not goodbye/Keep on thinking it's a time to fly
Guilty confession 2: I am absolutely terrible at goodbyes. I loathe them. I resist them. And I do not know how to do them well. So, I compromise with a two-armed hug and awkward two-thump back-pat, saying a quick "goodbye," and then turning towards the door.
The other night, my Rachel, Betsey, and Whitney and I were talking about goodbyes, as we near the necessity of our own goodbye. The conversation has stuck with me, and I have since pondered the subject many a time. I realized that one of the reasons that I hate goodbyes so adamantly is that they represent the in-between, a period of finality and uncertainty simultaneously; they are, in a word, the middle-ground. Goodbye represents the closing of one door before another is opened. And in so doing, I often feel that I am caught in between two realities, past and future, without being fully present in either.
J.K. Rowling, British author of the Harry Potter series, creates many terms, concepts, and wizarding devices in her extraordinary creativity. Her characters, when they reach a suitable age, of course, are able to practice disapparition, which is a nifty method of disappearing from one place to instantaneously re-appear in another (similar to teleportation). The risk, for an inexperienced wizard, is splinching, or only taking half of one's body along. In other words (and I promise, this has a point), a wizard haphazardly practicing apparition might find his body split between two locations.
Goodbye, to me, often feels similar: half of me remains where I have been, while the other part continues on to the new destination.
And perhaps this is why I hate goodbyes so desperately... I detest feeling as if I am woman divided. Yet, inevitably, I must move forward. It is entirely futile for me to attempt to remain in the past or forgo the future. But how to do it well?
Perhaps the trick is quite simple, really. Perhaps the trick is to never say goodbye. In German, the expression for "goodbye" is auf wiedersehen. Translated literally, it means "on see again." In French, it is "au revoir" or "with again to see." In Russian до свидания means "towards with seeing." Goodbye simply does not cut it, because without the hope of a future which encompasses and is firmly anchored in the present, our lives do feel splinched, divided, incomplete.
So instead of goodbye, let me boldly declare "until I see you again," in the hope and expectation that our paths will again intersect. Therefore, at the risk of being sappy and cheesy all rolled-into-one, let me borrow from Vitamin C, and quote:
As we go on, we remember/All the times we had together/And as our lives change, from whatever/We will still be, friends forever
I keep, I keep thinking that it's not goodbye/Keep on thinking it's a time to fly
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Entschuldigung...
In 2006, during my travels through Europe, I took a brief hiatus through Switzerland. A friend and I met up, and were staying in a hostel in Geneva. Tom was rooming with a German guy (let's call him Hans) who had wicked awesome hook-ups, and was trying get us tickets to the World Cup. Hans' English was pretty limited... and my German is pretty limited... so the two guys had their conversation in German whenever we ran into each other, and I pretty much just stood there, looking pretty.
On one particular occasion, however, Hans stopped mid-conversation and nodded his head towards me, saying something akin to, "Entschuldigung, ich unhöflich bin und auf Deutsch vor Ihrer Freundin spreche, aber mein Englisch sehr schlecht ist," roughly translating "I'm sorry I am being rude speaking German in front of your friend, but my English is very bad."
I, however, in my limited German, heard only "Deutsch, Ihrer Freundin spreche" or "German, your friend speaks?" So, I responded confidently, "Ja, kann ich auch sprechen!" meaning "Yes, I can speak also!" Hans looked at me, aghast; meanwhile, I just smiled proudly, thinking I had finally contributed to the conversation.
It wasn't until later that I understood that he had apologized for being rude, and I had just agreed that in fact he was being rude.
Cultural lesson 101: Always be able to laugh at yourself, because you will assuredly need that skill for your many social oopsy daisies!
Cultural lesson 102: Learn how to apologize in the language of the country you are in. :-) You will also need that skill.
On one particular occasion, however, Hans stopped mid-conversation and nodded his head towards me, saying something akin to, "Entschuldigung, ich unhöflich bin und auf Deutsch vor Ihrer Freundin spreche, aber mein Englisch sehr schlecht ist," roughly translating "I'm sorry I am being rude speaking German in front of your friend, but my English is very bad."
I, however, in my limited German, heard only "Deutsch, Ihrer Freundin spreche" or "German, your friend speaks?" So, I responded confidently, "Ja, kann ich auch sprechen!" meaning "Yes, I can speak also!" Hans looked at me, aghast; meanwhile, I just smiled proudly, thinking I had finally contributed to the conversation.
It wasn't until later that I understood that he had apologized for being rude, and I had just agreed that in fact he was being rude.
Cultural lesson 101: Always be able to laugh at yourself, because you will assuredly need that skill for your many social oopsy daisies!
Cultural lesson 102: Learn how to apologize in the language of the country you are in. :-) You will also need that skill.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Thank you, Lord, for my knees.
Today I am thankfully for two knees that work.
When I get stressed or over-stimulated or angry or sad, I run. It's my way of getting out emotion in a healthy manner. So, when my knees complain of overuse or stress, my life becomes doubly difficult. My manner of relieving stress is stressed-out, so to speak. And I often get more stressed or angry or sad as a result. But, I rarely, if ever, thank God for the days in which both of my knees function as they were intended, without pain or aches or weird squeaking noises.
Such is the case with many of the blessings in my life:
I rarely, if ever, thank God for the days in which I see these blessings in full.
But I always, without fail, whine and complain and ask Him to change things, when I have a headache, when my internet is down, or when my knees hurt too much to run.
So, today, I want to be thankful for two knees which work. God has blessed me abundantly; it's probably time that I started saying "thank-you" more often.
When I get stressed or over-stimulated or angry or sad, I run. It's my way of getting out emotion in a healthy manner. So, when my knees complain of overuse or stress, my life becomes doubly difficult. My manner of relieving stress is stressed-out, so to speak. And I often get more stressed or angry or sad as a result. But, I rarely, if ever, thank God for the days in which both of my knees function as they were intended, without pain or aches or weird squeaking noises.
Such is the case with many of the blessings in my life:
- a head which, 25 days out of 31, does not suffer from migraines or severe headaches
- internet which, most days, functions wonderfully well
- the luxury of having enough food that I even could consider the option of overeating
- a car which, despite guzzling gas, runs and runs well
I rarely, if ever, thank God for the days in which I see these blessings in full.
But I always, without fail, whine and complain and ask Him to change things, when I have a headache, when my internet is down, or when my knees hurt too much to run.
So, today, I want to be thankful for two knees which work. God has blessed me abundantly; it's probably time that I started saying "thank-you" more often.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Patterns of behavior...
Have you ever noticed patterns in your life?
A few days ago, upon a moment of reflection (and scanning of my phone book), I discovered that of the oh say six to eight men that I have found intriguing in the past few years, five of them (six, if you transcribe the Czech) not only have names which start with the same letter, BUT they also fall alphabetically in my phone book AND they're all Biblical names. There are times in which my life is down-right terrifying and simultaneously giddy in its "ah ha" moments...
Thankfully, this does not appear to be a pattern that I am bound to or stuck in...
But, while many of the patterns in my life are somewhat less than esoteric or permanently binding, still, I find myself falling into repeated patterns of behavior...
Are patterns or habits a bad thing, in and of themselves?
No, absolutely not. But do they have the potential to become ruts of security or dependency, in which we become unable to change, grow, or adapt? Absolutely.
... a pattern of coffee drinking that becomes an addiction and "must-have-in-order-to-function."
... a pattern of doing things one way, that leaves one unable to culturally adapt or see the beauty of other peoples' ways of doing simple tasks.
More thoughts to follow on this later...
A few days ago, upon a moment of reflection (and scanning of my phone book), I discovered that of the oh say six to eight men that I have found intriguing in the past few years, five of them (six, if you transcribe the Czech) not only have names which start with the same letter, BUT they also fall alphabetically in my phone book AND they're all Biblical names. There are times in which my life is down-right terrifying and simultaneously giddy in its "ah ha" moments...
Thankfully, this does not appear to be a pattern that I am bound to or stuck in...
But, while many of the patterns in my life are somewhat less than esoteric or permanently binding, still, I find myself falling into repeated patterns of behavior...
- I like breaking societal norms and expectations, and delight in shock value.
- I always drink at least two cups of coffee in the morning.
- I always do house cleaning on Saturdays.
- I don't wear shoes unless I absolutely have to.
Are patterns or habits a bad thing, in and of themselves?
No, absolutely not. But do they have the potential to become ruts of security or dependency, in which we become unable to change, grow, or adapt? Absolutely.
... a pattern of coffee drinking that becomes an addiction and "must-have-in-order-to-function."
... a pattern of doing things one way, that leaves one unable to culturally adapt or see the beauty of other peoples' ways of doing simple tasks.
More thoughts to follow on this later...
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The Lie.
sitting silently, minding my own,
when a deep undertone resonates,
"you will never be enough."
caught off guard, i scramble to my mental feet,
"who's there?" say i.
"does it matter?" groans my past,
"because you're a disappointment still."
doesn't have to be a garden,
under the shade of forbidden fruit,
the accuser accuses still.
"failure. fraud. mockery."
i can hear the voices rumble.
taking on accents, personality and tonality,
even individuality of words i've heard before.
permanently engraved on my heart,
the accuser simply reads the script.
who needs others to verbalize them,
when my own diction and emphasis is flawless?
"comparison. ugly. lacking. worthless. "
like a never ending track.
none of my fig leaves seem thick enough,
but even my walls of stone cannot block it:
the voices are inside my head.
my tape must be re-recorded,
the cartridge must be re-filled,
the house must be cleaned through and through.
temple torn down and rebuilt in three days?
"i'll turn this den of thieves and liars
into my Father's house once again."
says He.
torn down, rebuilt, made new;
the liars homeless, the truth lodging well.
Father, would you clean this shoddy shack,
and take up lodging here?
would you turn this disarray,
with ugly graffiti written on the walls,
into a beautiful mansion, fit for your honor,
with poems of worship, written on her doors.
banishing the serpent forever from the garden?
when a deep undertone resonates,
"you will never be enough."
caught off guard, i scramble to my mental feet,
"who's there?" say i.
"does it matter?" groans my past,
"because you're a disappointment still."
doesn't have to be a garden,
under the shade of forbidden fruit,
the accuser accuses still.
"failure. fraud. mockery."
i can hear the voices rumble.
taking on accents, personality and tonality,
even individuality of words i've heard before.
permanently engraved on my heart,
the accuser simply reads the script.
who needs others to verbalize them,
when my own diction and emphasis is flawless?
"comparison. ugly. lacking. worthless. "
like a never ending track.
none of my fig leaves seem thick enough,
but even my walls of stone cannot block it:
the voices are inside my head.
my tape must be re-recorded,
the cartridge must be re-filled,
the house must be cleaned through and through.
temple torn down and rebuilt in three days?
"i'll turn this den of thieves and liars
into my Father's house once again."
says He.
torn down, rebuilt, made new;
the liars homeless, the truth lodging well.
Father, would you clean this shoddy shack,
and take up lodging here?
would you turn this disarray,
with ugly graffiti written on the walls,
into a beautiful mansion, fit for your honor,
with poems of worship, written on her doors.
banishing the serpent forever from the garden?
Sunday, June 8, 2008
grab-bag
- This morning in church, a guest speaker from Brazil gave a mission update. In the midst of it, he said, "A church should be a hospital, not a hotel." I thought that was rather profound, yet simple. Think about it.
- Last night, some friends and I went contra dancing down in our small granola-y town... and after two and a half hours of gypsying and allemande-ing, hot and sweaty, we decided to go through the "open until 2am" drive-thru at a local fast-food joint. Since there were too many of us to fit in one car, we decided to just walk through the drive-thru. Low and behold, they actually call it a "drive-thru" for a reason... apparently, they don't serve two-footed (four would be ok?!) pedestrians. Hypothetically, it violates a fast-food code of conduct (apparently they have those??)...
- And friends, at ninety-four degrees and humid, I think I finally understand why the phrase "hot as h-e-double-hockey-sticks" came into being. I was not made for this heat...
- Last night, some friends and I went contra dancing down in our small granola-y town... and after two and a half hours of gypsying and allemande-ing, hot and sweaty, we decided to go through the "open until 2am" drive-thru at a local fast-food joint. Since there were too many of us to fit in one car, we decided to just walk through the drive-thru. Low and behold, they actually call it a "drive-thru" for a reason... apparently, they don't serve two-footed (four would be ok?!) pedestrians. Hypothetically, it violates a fast-food code of conduct (apparently they have those??)...
- And friends, at ninety-four degrees and humid, I think I finally understand why the phrase "hot as h-e-double-hockey-sticks" came into being. I was not made for this heat...
Friday, June 6, 2008
Asking the question "Why?"
If you know me well at all, have been discipled by me, or have even sat down with me for any amount of time, you know that one of my favorite questions of all time is "why?"
When I was four (to eighteen), this question drove my parents insane...
... why do you do want to wash the dishes this way?
... why do people get wrinkly when they get older?
... why do we have to sleep at night?
... ad infinitum.
But as I have *matured* I have realized that my child-like questioning actually served to create the base for I am. And I would argue, now, that "why" is the single most important question that we can ask, followed by "how," "who," and "what."
The Greek play-write, Euripides (480-406BC) once said, "Question everything. Learn something. Answer nothing." He then went on to say, "Leave no stone unturned."
A few years down the road, rapper Tupac Shakur (1971-1996AD) also said, "Don't cry, just ask why."
Now, if I've phrased this correctly, I'm sure that you're wondering, "Well, why is "why" the most important question?!" GREAT QUESTION!
"Why" is the single most important question that you can ask because it is the question which confers meaning to everything that we do. There is no purpose to the "how" "who" or "what" if we don't first ask, "why does it matter?"
Last summer, a friend and I had an extended conversation about God. I challenged her to answer the "why" questions, without God or the idea of God.
... why are we here?
... why species evolve the ways that they did?
... why did evolution stop at the human level?
... why do we even search for purpose or meaning in life? where did that come from?
"How" "who" and "what" are observation questions. They are good, and necessary questions. Science can easily attempt to answer the "how" and the "what" questions. Even the "who" question can be given a whirl and a non-committal answer. But "why" is the harder question to answer. But inevitably, it is the question that we need to ask ourselves the most often. Inevitably, it is the question from which the most growth, change, and depth of meaning stem. What would have happened if...
... Abolitionists hadn't asked "why do we think slavery is OK?"
... Scientists never asked "why does this happen, when I do x, y or z?"
... Doctors never asked "why did this patient die? and how can I prevent it in the future?"
... We never asked "why do we do things this way? why do we believe what we believe?"
The question "why" is fundamentally necessary for growth, change, and the conference of true meaning. Both Euripides and Tupac hit the nail on the head, when they suggest that we need to begin our search for meaning, truth, and change, with the question "why."
Perhaps my inner five year old actually continues to exist for a reason. :-)
When I was four (to eighteen), this question drove my parents insane...
... why do you do want to wash the dishes this way?
... why do people get wrinkly when they get older?
... why do we have to sleep at night?
... ad infinitum.
But as I have *matured* I have realized that my child-like questioning actually served to create the base for I am. And I would argue, now, that "why" is the single most important question that we can ask, followed by "how," "who," and "what."
The Greek play-write, Euripides (480-406BC) once said, "Question everything. Learn something. Answer nothing." He then went on to say, "Leave no stone unturned."
A few years down the road, rapper Tupac Shakur (1971-1996AD) also said, "Don't cry, just ask why."
Now, if I've phrased this correctly, I'm sure that you're wondering, "Well, why is "why" the most important question?!" GREAT QUESTION!
"Why" is the single most important question that you can ask because it is the question which confers meaning to everything that we do. There is no purpose to the "how" "who" or "what" if we don't first ask, "why does it matter?"
Last summer, a friend and I had an extended conversation about God. I challenged her to answer the "why" questions, without God or the idea of God.
... why are we here?
... why species evolve the ways that they did?
... why did evolution stop at the human level?
... why do we even search for purpose or meaning in life? where did that come from?
"How" "who" and "what" are observation questions. They are good, and necessary questions. Science can easily attempt to answer the "how" and the "what" questions. Even the "who" question can be given a whirl and a non-committal answer. But "why" is the harder question to answer. But inevitably, it is the question that we need to ask ourselves the most often. Inevitably, it is the question from which the most growth, change, and depth of meaning stem. What would have happened if...
... Abolitionists hadn't asked "why do we think slavery is OK?"
... Scientists never asked "why does this happen, when I do x, y or z?"
... Doctors never asked "why did this patient die? and how can I prevent it in the future?"
... We never asked "why do we do things this way? why do we believe what we believe?"
The question "why" is fundamentally necessary for growth, change, and the conference of true meaning. Both Euripides and Tupac hit the nail on the head, when they suggest that we need to begin our search for meaning, truth, and change, with the question "why."
Perhaps my inner five year old actually continues to exist for a reason. :-)
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Remember
While we're kind of on a news feed for the blog (I promise, non-news subjects to come), it is worthwhile to note that today is the 19th anniversary of Tienanmen Square.
On June 4, 1989, during a pro-democracy rally in Tiananmen Square, PRC, the government rolled in PLA tanks and troops, killing hundreds, if not thousands of peaceful protesters, in a bloodbath which has been largely removed from history books, even disavowed as having occurred for many years.
The Guardian newspaper reported today that "Human Rights Watch said 130 people are still in prison as a result of their roles in the pro-democracy demonstrations..." and notes that "Civil rights activists called on the Chinese government today to release more than 100 prisoners from the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests as a sign of its commitment to improve human rights ahead of this summer's Olympic Games."
Many have suggested the government is now at a place wherein the wrong-doings of the past can be owned and amended... yet thus far, no action has been taken.
Tiananmen Square is no longer a hot topic. We have moved on to other atrocities and injustices. But the fact of the matter is, the injustices, while no longer keenly felt by the majority of the world, still have not been rectified. The fact that it has been 19 years, to me, sounds the call that the battle for justice is not something in which we engage only when it's "hip" to do so.
The question is, will we still fight for justice even when it's not the topic of the hour? Even 19 years after a travesty begins or occurs, will we be people who fight for justice? Or, when the headlines fade, will our interest and passions fade as well?
On June 4, 1989, during a pro-democracy rally in Tiananmen Square, PRC, the government rolled in PLA tanks and troops, killing hundreds, if not thousands of peaceful protesters, in a bloodbath which has been largely removed from history books, even disavowed as having occurred for many years.
The Guardian newspaper reported today that "Human Rights Watch said 130 people are still in prison as a result of their roles in the pro-democracy demonstrations..." and notes that "Civil rights activists called on the Chinese government today to release more than 100 prisoners from the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests as a sign of its commitment to improve human rights ahead of this summer's Olympic Games."
Many have suggested the government is now at a place wherein the wrong-doings of the past can be owned and amended... yet thus far, no action has been taken.
Tiananmen Square is no longer a hot topic. We have moved on to other atrocities and injustices. But the fact of the matter is, the injustices, while no longer keenly felt by the majority of the world, still have not been rectified. The fact that it has been 19 years, to me, sounds the call that the battle for justice is not something in which we engage only when it's "hip" to do so.
The question is, will we still fight for justice even when it's not the topic of the hour? Even 19 years after a travesty begins or occurs, will we be people who fight for justice? Or, when the headlines fade, will our interest and passions fade as well?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Tell Checkers what you want me to do...
Ah friends, it appears that the US election is going to continue to be a heated battle, within the democratic party at least for the next few days... then between parties for the next few months.
If anyone is interested in looking at the candidates a bit more candidly through the lenses of the issues, I have found the website: Campaign Issues 2008 to be pretty helpful, in years prior, and currently. :-)
If anyone is interested in looking at the candidates a bit more candidly through the lenses of the issues, I have found the website: Campaign Issues 2008 to be pretty helpful, in years prior, and currently. :-)
Monday, June 2, 2008
Unemotional Woman?
A moment of clarity: for those of you in doubt, I am in fact a woman.
Hope there were not too many of you who were questioning that.
Moreover, I am a woman in ministry. I work for an interdenominational Christian campus ministry called InterVarsity. And I thoroughly love and believe in what I do.
And, in the past few weeks and months, I have a number of conversations about women in ministry. Theologically, Epistemologically, Analytically, Logically, Methodologically, Isomorphically, Anthropomorphically... well, you get the point. But if you notice, one word is missing from that list of "-ally's." In fact, it should be an obvious one because it a word that is used to describe women's reactions fairly frequently.
The word that is missing from the list is emotionally.
I realized the other day, amidst another conversation with a few friends, that I am able to have the conversation about women in ministry quite regularly without emotional kickback.
Part of that is just personality. I am not by nature particularly emotional. But part of it is, I have realized in my *long* life that I find it hard to emotionally engage on the topic without taking it as a personal affront.. And I think there is a lot of wisdom and grace given through that reaction: I think it is beneficial and helpful to others for me to be able to engage with a difficult subject which affects me personally, without taking it personally.
But at the same time, my fear is that by emotionally distancing myself from the subject of women in ministry, I do something which is equally detrimental: I allow participants in the conversation the liberty of having a hypothetical or theoretical discussion, without realizing that the topic of the conversation affects real people, with real emotions, and with real and individual gifts.
Somehow I think there must be a balance...
Hope there were not too many of you who were questioning that.
Moreover, I am a woman in ministry. I work for an interdenominational Christian campus ministry called InterVarsity. And I thoroughly love and believe in what I do.
And, in the past few weeks and months, I have a number of conversations about women in ministry. Theologically, Epistemologically, Analytically, Logically, Methodologically, Isomorphically, Anthropomorphically... well, you get the point. But if you notice, one word is missing from that list of "-ally's." In fact, it should be an obvious one because it a word that is used to describe women's reactions fairly frequently.
The word that is missing from the list is emotionally.
I realized the other day, amidst another conversation with a few friends, that I am able to have the conversation about women in ministry quite regularly without emotional kickback.
Part of that is just personality. I am not by nature particularly emotional. But part of it is, I have realized in my *long* life that I find it hard to emotionally engage on the topic without taking it as a personal affront.. And I think there is a lot of wisdom and grace given through that reaction: I think it is beneficial and helpful to others for me to be able to engage with a difficult subject which affects me personally, without taking it personally.
But at the same time, my fear is that by emotionally distancing myself from the subject of women in ministry, I do something which is equally detrimental: I allow participants in the conversation the liberty of having a hypothetical or theoretical discussion, without realizing that the topic of the conversation affects real people, with real emotions, and with real and individual gifts.
Somehow I think there must be a balance...
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