Tuesday, October 30, 2018

The Dream Vision

I had a dream the other night. I was in the car and Calvin was there. My consciousness was floating above my head in a unified field of white-yellow shimmering light. The thought in the dream that presented itself was the idea that our calling is to come to peace with seemingly opposite ideas so that they may be unified and not in conflict.

I remember once my mom in speaking about the Bible mentioned how one could find everything in there and its opposite. I am not so sure about everything — some things are pretty clear-cut, but she made a good point. There are many opposites or seemingly contrary ideas, which of course makes it important to examine context and not simply pull a verse out and call it randomly ultimate truth because it aligns with our personal cause. My friend’s mother once spoke about the Bible being the living bible. I like this thought and idea. I have had the experience where a word or a phrase literally comes to life. I know what she means. I do think there is a place and a mystery for something that resonates with our own personal story that may not do so with our neighbor in that moment in time.

All that to say, it is not difficult to thoughtfully consider perhaps Jesus' words to Martha — “You are anxious and troubled about many things” (Luke 10:41) — and understand that busy Martha is missing the subtleties in life, the sweet message and presence of Christ, because she is too busy doing, to notice. Too preoccupied, too caught up. For the naturally slothful person Christ might admonish them on the contrary to get up and do, go help their neighbor — “Go to the ant, O sluggard; consider her ways and be wise. Without having any chief, officer, or ruler, she prepares her bread in summer and gathers her food in harvest” (Proverbs 6:6-8). So opposing ideas can both be right and good and grounded in truth. This idea seems to hold a key that gets easily misplaced when trying to unlock the mysteries of those others, or ideas that somehow bother us, or we just can't quite accept as right.

I had an observation the other day while scrolling through Facebook. I pretty much know what to expect from certain people, their political perspectives, or areas of grievance. The idea that came to mind was how people tend to project into the world and feel passionate (and often very righteous) about certain subjects. They want to change these certain aspects of the world. It seemed the more I examined this, the more it seemed to make sense that the very thing they are angry about in the world and trying to change, seems to tie into an aspect of their own being that perhaps is not acting in accordance with a certain moral law, or at peace within, and so the MO is to fix it — not within their own being, but rather by fighting the world.

A priest the other day preached on the passage where Jesus referred to the Syrophoenecian woman as a dog (“It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” — Mark 7:27). She was in an uproar about this. She even said something to the effect of perhaps Jesus meriting a proverbial slap from the Holy Spirit!! To say that I was shocked was an understatement. Her understanding is: here is a poor woman, and this is how Christ treats her. But the very fact that he uses the words he uses are the exact tool from which she can then show her perfect humility. She does not buck in self-righteousness, but rather persists and in a certain way agrees with Jesus' description. He follows by recognizing the state of her heart and heals her. This priest was offended. She was not OK  with this — and yet there is such a powerful and beautiful way to understand this passage. Being caught up in her modern day human understanding of right and wrong, there was no way that reference to a woman as a dog was OK — ever. And yet, if we look at the God-incarnate, sinless God-man and worship he who is the savior of the world, don't we all fall short of that kind of glory? If he is our Master it seems that men, women and children are all in some respect dogs in comparison to the One who is sinless. Masters in fact love their dogs but can recognize a proper order and relationship.

Apparently there is an aspect in Eastern religions where young devotees are given riddles to sit with. They are riddles that bother the mind in the sense that they are paradoxical, and yet there is a place with the right amount of work in wrestling with these riddles where the mind releases the struggle and is enabled to accept the paradox. Or from a Christian perspective, perhaps the Holy Spirit moves the spiritual sludge into clean flowing water, the crooked is made straight. It seems there are two ways to approach those things that prick us, make our stomachs tighten, and our minds begin to whirl. One is to lash out at the world and try to move a mountain and the other maybe to go deep inside and gaze into a reflection that is not the one we want to see — to call on a Savior to illumine the way out, and wait for the Holy Spirit to move the molehill and continue in the dance of life.



Friday, October 12, 2018

Weather to Believe

I felt encouraged the other day while listening to NPR. The subject at hand was "Climate Change". If ever there were two words to stir up a heated debate with religious proportions, these would be the two. It seems there are two schools of thought when it comes to this "oh so controversial" issue. One is that man has been careless and reckless and created destructive outcomes for the earth and planet, and we darn well better do something about it, or Armageddon is about to become real. “The earth lies defiled under its inhabitants; for they have transgressed the laws, violated the statutes, broken the everlasting covenant” (Isaiah 24:5). The other seems to be that the earth has always gone through cyclical changes over vast amounts of time, and something greater than ourselves is ultimately perfectly in charge and in control and we need not worry. So maybe those are the extreme versions, but that is my basic understanding. 

I don't always agree with my mother-in-law, but one time she said: "Everybody thinks their version of right is the right version of right". For some reason this really stuck with me, and the more I thought about it, the more I agreed. To take it a step further though, I don't think people always act in a way that even corresponds with their own version of right. Sometimes one may actually not be sure which right is most right and act in a way that is comfortable and could be right, but maybe is not. 

I do believe in grey. I think there is room for gray in climate change too. Maybe we have not been good stewards of the earth. “Let them have dominion over all the earth” (Gen. 1:26). Due to sin in the form of greed and gluttony. Maybe Mother Earth is desperately calling out to us and saying “pay attention”. Maybe God has a plan for the planet that no man, woman, or child can change despite the most heartfelt efforts. 

I was encouraged though listening to this podcast because the gentleman who was speaking was someone who works for clean energy. He in fact is a proponent of "Climate Change", but at some point he said: "It does not really matter what you believe". It rang like music to my ears. He went on to say how many "red" states are actually leading the way in clean energy, particularly wind powered in this case. He said that pretty much everyone agrees in lower pollution; healthier air to breathe, and everyone agrees with lower costs. Bam. So beautiful. I just love this because people waste so much time trying to convince the other that their right is the right version of what is right. Most people are not willing to give that up, and maybe rightly so. Who is to say that what may be right for me at a certain time might be wrong for you etc. I am not saying that I do not believe in an objective reality where no moral laws exist—clearly I do. But God works in mysterious ways and can turn hearts in ways we can not imagine or even begin to understand. “For those who love God all things work together for good” (Romans 8:28). 

As mere mortals we can not read the hearts of men nor tell the future, but we can find areas of agreement and work towards mutual goals. I realize some areas are harder than others and the road seems more fog filled when such disparate priorities are in play, but I love the idea that it does not matter what you believe. I don't know if I have completely carved out the depth of that, but it seems there is something good there. Even people with supposed same or similar beliefs can have large areas of discord. It seems there is a meeting ground for humanity that lies not in one's beliefs but rather in one's actions for a common good. I felt a glimmer of hope in this unique gentleman's approach to such a divisive subject. “For in this hope we were saved” (Romans 8:24). 

I once knew a friend who said something to the effect of: "If there are only two choices, right and wrong, black and white, then there is not God". Kind of like Bishop Curry's where there is not love, there is not God. “God is love”; “Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him” 1 John 4:8 and 4:16b). God is life. God is far more complex than mere black and white, for all the colors of the rainbow exist within white (reflects all colors). Black is an absorption, lack of its own hue. Sometimes things are not what they seem and when it comes to God, certainly how much more so.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Predicament

I am a follower of Christ, and I hate my neighbor. There, I said it out loud. How can this be, I ask myself? Is this not against all that I not only embrace but am called for? (“You shall love your neighbor as yourself”). Yet, here I am. Ok, maybe hate is the wrong word, but it kinda feels that way. I am angry, and I know that anger is hurt — hurt at another's misguided sense of purpose and hurt at my own ignoring of my inner story. This is about a woman who from day one since we moved to this neighborhood has felt free to comment on our child and parenting choices. She has not been kind, nor helpful. Usually it is about controlling the situation all the while presenting it under the pretext of caring so very much. She has been petty and made passive aggressive comments that say, "You are doing it wrong, you are a bad parent, it is not good enough". 

The other day at the bus stop she approached me and really caught me off guard. It just happened, of course, that I woke up late that particular day. I rushed to get dressed but was literally still in a half-dream state when she lambasted me — first with several of her typical "savior stories": “Oh, the kids were playing hide and seek, under the car, then in the car in the heat. But yes: I was there to save the day.” The reality is we live in a very kid-friendly neighborhood. Our street ends in a cul-de-sac, and kids play along the street between us and a few other houses in a row. Off hand, I count about 15 kids and they all play together all the time. All the parents take part in watching out, keeping an eye on these little ones.

One thing she probably is not even aware of is that we actually have a perfectly clear view of her yard from our window. However, nonetheless, she went on to basically say that my children were responsible for her child's anxiety, that Pierson (whose little brother Soren follows and plays with her child) is also the problem. Sometimes Soren cries (surprise he's 3!), and this is causing her son anxiety because he does not know how to handle the situation. She continued with her passive aggressive insults: "I don't know what your parenting style is...blah blah blah", and per usual, each time I tried to explain my side of the story, view, etc., she immediately shut me down and said: “No, that's not the way it is.” 

Still half asleep my head began to spin. I basically muttered something to the effect of: "Well, maybe it is better if they just play at our house" and walked away. But that was it, I was done. I went home and cried. I cried because in that moment I felt empty and broken. I felt like I don't know how to do better, there is nothing left to give. I just don't know what it is and I definitely don't have it. Then I got mad. Mad that for five years I have been gracious and compliant. There was the time her babysitter came over to our house to ask for Pierson to play with his friend. This would have made the baby sitter’s life easier to have a happily entertained little boy to watch, both boys happier — and frankly given me a break too. She immediately came over when she returned from work that day explaining how this was absolutely not feasible since she could not burden her poor babysitter with two children when she was only paying for one. Once again being oh-so-conscientious. 

There was the time we were on a family walk in the neighborhood and Pierson was playing with his other neighbor friend, and she so sweetly said: "Where is the other member of your family'?”, full well knowing that he and his little friend decided to jump the fence that day and had just been caught when his other little friend’s parents went looking for them. We subsequently—all of five to ten minutes later—found this out ourselves. There was the time at the swimming pool when I was only a few weeks postpartum and desperately made it to the pool to get Pierson out of the house. With baby Soren on my lap under the umbrella, her husband came over to me whining that Pierson had splashed him in the face and would not apologize. If I had had my wits about me, I could have responded: "Deal with it, you're a principal after all". But again, vulnerable and caught off guard, I explained our struggles with getting Pierson to listen, that we have tried the being-nice route, tried the cracking down route, and nothing seems to work. I apologized profusely and tripped over my words, my heart feeling raw and helpless. I could go on but I think the picture is clear. 

After the last incident at the bus stop that morning, I forbid my boys to be on their property, but something in me broke. I am done being compliant, gracious, trying to explain, only to be brushed off or down right shut down. I AM DONE. And yet — I can no longer look her in the face. And yet — I am called to love. Hmmm. gosh darn it. Even this morning, a father at the bus stop said goodbye to Pierson, and Pierson ignored him. Usually she sits in her car, but today she happened to come out to be social (how does she do that?). When Calvin went up to Pierson and gently corrected him about his behavior, the fellow kind of said: "Oh,  it doesn't matter", and she immediately joined him in agreement, criticizing that Calvin is being overly serious and correcting. I was standing directly on the other side and so could hear and see.

So which is it? I want to say, one minute we are not correcting and cautious enough with our child, and the other we are too much so? But I don't. I quietly tell Calvin she's at it again. I was looking forward to a nice breakfast, but am no longer hungry. I am angry, and here I am — I hate my neighbor. It's ok, it's my problem, I know it, and I own it. How do I get from here to love, I wonder? Where is my compassion for a woman who is desperately trying to feel that she has a stake in something in which she does not. Wanting to be a good and charitable being, yet stuck in controlling, critical behaviors that in her mind are out of caring, yet are hurtful and stressful to those on the receiving end. One who cannot listen but must always be the speaker. I can learn from you dear women. I am you too. 

My sadness perhaps lies in giving too much, to not be received, trying to enter into true relationship — and yet that door is not open. Where do my own secret sins lie? Do I use in other areas these same tricky tools of the devil's deception? I feel calmer now. I feel grace, and I feel peace. It was not in my time (which is the immediate, or better said, yesterday), but in the trust the time does come. “They who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength” (Isaiah 40:31). I feel grateful that she has energized me to have some fierce workouts burning off the spin of my mind (things I would like to say, but will not). I am grateful for writing and the cathartic nature of pen to paper. I will try to love you as my neighbor, but I may fail, and that is ok. Somehow your constant poking has emptied me, and from this space, the Lord can now fill me, and that is a gift. 

I don't know where to go from here, but I know I can let go of knowing, trying, explaining and justifying. Pierson is my gift from my Father above. He is my first born and my love. Certainly I have failed—sometimes too harsh, sometimes not enough so—but all I can give is what I have and somehow that must be enough. Maybe you push me to push myself to be a better parent, and maybe you teach me that enough is just right. So I sink in the gratitude and begin to feel the forgiveness. I can love you not by trying but rather by letting go. Through him all things are possible (“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”). And for now that is abundantly so, and so much more than enough.