Tuesday, December 21, 2010

What I learned about compassion from the movie “Saw”

I only saw this movie recently back in June. There was a time, when I was a younger man, that I would have enjoyed such a movie. Of course, in those days I spent more time stoned than I did sober, so anything that invoked intense emotion (mostly pain) that wasn’t at my expense was welcomed being that I was so emotionally numb. 

I don’t want to give away the entire plot of the movie, but in essence, a series of people were caught in an intricate web set for them by an evil mastermind who went by the name of “Jigsaw”. By the circumstances that Jigsaw set out for the people, they made a series of choices which caused them in some way to behave in very inhumane or even evil ways.  It seems the pull for preservation, whether self or familial, is greater than that of nobility. 

For some reason this made me think that the circumstances of life, though not as extreme, condensed, or masterfully manipulated, are not much different than that of “Saw”.
Circumstance causes us to act and react. Environment has instilled in us how we ought to react to negative and positive stimuli. 

People in the everyday rigors of life are in some fashion enslaved to the circumstances which demand response. 

So consider this: When the person on the highway cuts you off (and it might just be me by the way) his behavior communicates that he is responding poorly to some sort of negativity around him. His behavior is communicating far less “Screw you” and far more “I am overwhelmed, angry, and have lost control.”
When someone is rude to you, seek to understand the behavior as being more about their inability to, in a healthy fashion, not project their frustrations on others. 

We look for this in children, knowing that a sudden change in their behavior tells us that something is not right. Why is it that we cannot look at the behavior of those around us and approach it with the same attitude of understanding and compassion? 

I believe this to be a core teaching of my faith. That while we were helpless, caught in the cycle of abuse and brokenness, God ended the cycle through his son Jesus. 

Every wrong, every trespass, and every sin we perpetrated against one another demands a payment. When someone wrongs us, we spend our time making others pay for our wounds, and so we wound those that are closest to us. In so doing, we ensure that this cycle continues. 

I believe that Jesus, the Son of God, took upon himself the payment that such deeds deserve. He paid the penalty in his death, and demonstrates victory over sin by rising again from the dead. In so doing, we who follow Jesus, offer forgiveness to those who hurt us and love to those who hate us.

So the next time someone gives you the finger, tells you where you can go and what you can do to yourself, or hurts you at the deepest level, remember that the wounds that motivate their actions can be healed, wrongs can be righted, and that which is broken can be put back together.

Monday, December 20, 2010

"...and ask yourselves this question. 'Why didn't we do anything about it?'"

This Christmas, when you sit down with your family in joy and in sincere happiness, pause to think about those who will not have presents under the tree; those whose stomachs will not be filled.

You know them. They are your geographical neighbors, your co-workers, those who provide you with goods and services.

Stop, bow your heads, and say a prayer for them. And when you're finished look up from the table, look at one another, and ask yourselves this question. "Why didn't we do anything about it?"

Ask yourselves if this is just: your household on average will spend over $700 on gifts that do not satisfy, while just a few miles a way a family is elated with the gift their child recieved from "Toys for Tots" or the "United Way."

There is no place in God's Kingdom for some to live in excess while others live in want and squaller.

May these words bring shame upon your household and mine if we profess to be followers of the way while still following after the shallow riches of this world.


"If this is going to be a Christian nation who doesn't help the poor, either we have to pretend that Jesus is as selfish as we are, or we have to acknowledge that he has commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition, and then admit that we just don't want to do it." - Colbert

Sunday, December 19, 2010

End of the year clearance: take 2

"The nature of the Gospel is such that it is not (should not be) bound by one culture, and the New Testament is virtually silent concerning form.
What I mean is the universality of its message. The Gospel (should) transcend cultures, societies, ethnicity, class, gender, and any other thing that divides us. Scripture is engaged with its culture, which can be seen for example in Genesis 1-11, as compared to the Enûma Eliš or the Epic of Gilgamesh."

End of the year clearance: take 1

Almost a year ago, my wife gave me a little leather notebook that I could carry around to jot down all of my "epiphanies." The note book is almost full, and the year is almost over, so I decided to start posting what I wrote. Even if it's not profound, I'm just going to throw it out there.

Here's the first thing I wrote: It was in response to a man I had heard sweepingly condemning post-modernity as all that is wrong with our society.

"The assumption is that post-modern thought is bad while a modernist expression of the Christian faith goes unchallenged.
The accusations against post-modernism is that of pluralism, and denial of absolute truth. While pluralism may be an issue in the blending of world religion's (all of which are exclusive in nature), the question is whether or not it is limited to the perspectives that created them.
  • Truth is absolute, but perceptive binds us in acquiring objectivity
  • We parade and champion objectivity to justify our perspective of absolute and objective truth
  • What we come away with is a kind of cultural superiority that makes us look with suspicion at any one who sees it differently."

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Anti-depressed

I know I’ve only been blogging for a few months, but as I go back and read my old blogs I think to myself “wow, they are really good! I can’t believe I wrote that. It doesn’t even seem like the same person.” I hope that these words do not make you think I am a narcissist (I may very well be, but not in this instance). I think that those first posts were like NASCAR, few people watch for the love of the sport, but rather it’s like waiting in anticipation for a bad crash. It’s amazing how misery inspires art.

Recently, with the help of my beautiful wife, I got a little bit of added assistance for my condition. This has come with a great deal of humility for me. Sitting down with Amanda and reviewing the symptoms for adult ADHD, I felt… honestly, I felt relieved. 

I spent the last 7-8 years denouncing such a diagnosis in myself, even denouncing the very existence of the disorder. I had been on medication as a teenager (12-17) and hated it. I hated the questions of “did you take your medicine?” when there were behavioral issues. I hated the thought that my behavioral problems could be dismissed as chemical imbalances’ when they were reactions to external factors. I stopped taking the medicine halfway through my senior year of High school. I do not regret that decision.

I set out to college with a mission to prove that there was nothing wrong with me. Well, that’s not why I went per se, but spite in this regard served as one of the motivating factors for my success.

These last few years have been especially difficult. Long periods of anxiety and days without sleep, followed by long periods of severe depression, bursts of irritation, and pushing people as far away from me as I could characterizes my recent memories (and characterizes the manifestation of this disorder in adults).

I still have a great tension within me… I haven’t fully thought through all of this. I still feel a great compromise in agreeing to go back on medication. I will say that I feel a great deal better than I did. I do, however, feel that it was my angst that drove me and made me a good writer/student. I struggle with things to write about now that my thoughts and feelings are no longer haunted and agonized. I’m like that song by Garbage:
 I'm only happy when it rains
I'm only happy when it's complicated
And though I know you can't appreciate it
I'm only happy when it rains

You know I love it when the news is bad
And why it feels so good to feel so sad
I'm only happy when it rains

Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me
Pour your misery down, pour your misery down on me

I'm only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad, sad songs
I'm only happy when it rains

I only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didn't accidentally tell you that
I'm only happy when it rains

You'll get the message by the time I'm through
When I complain about me and you
I'm only happy when it rains

Pour your misery down Pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me Pour your misery down
Pour your misery down

You can keep me company
As long as you don't care

I am fully functional. I have the concentration of Buddhist cow, my emotions are regulated and in check, I can get my school work done in a timely manner, I can focus at work. I guess a part of me still misses the complications I suffered unnecessarily. I’m still figuring this out…

 I write this so that you, my brothers and sisters, may give more thought to the suspicion with which we oft times look at such things. We sometimes espouse ignorant postures of things that we are unable to sympathize with or understand, myself included.
I ask that you give consideration to this being that I am still in tension with it personally. I’d like to hear your thoughts, although be mindful that you are not talking about “ideology”, but my life.
Thank you

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Why it feels like Christmas this year

For the first time in many years it truly feels like Christmas. I have peace and joy in my heart, and it is not solely because I spend the day listening to Christmas songs (although that does help). No matter how heavy a situation my job brings me into contact with, I feel the presence of God very close to me and to whoever is on the other line. No matter how much hopelessness and despair I hear, I sense that hope and healing and restoration is on its way.

I sense God at work all around me, and I draw near to him as I reflect on his shame:
God, in all of his inexpressible glory, became a child in Mary’s womb. God, in all of his transcendence, was born in a small town in Israel. God, in all of his power and might and authority, became a son to a poor carpenter betrothed to a virgin. God , in all of his eternality, experienced death upon a cross.

God made his dwelling among us, and he chose to love the poor and oppressed, the despised, the rejected, the unwanted and undesirable. 

God became a man and subjected himself to the shame of death on a cross. He was paraded and put on display in his agony and mocked. God most high, became flesh like us, and endured the cross… a scandal to his fellow Jews (for all who were hung on a tree were considered to be under the curse of God), and a sign of betrayal to the Romans (as crucifixion was prescribed for traitors).

There was a time that God seemed so far from me, but as Christmas approaches I am reminded that God is not far from each one of us. It is scandalous to think that God, maker of heaven and earth, would limit himself to becoming like us. 

When I share in someone’s pain, I am reminded how deep God’s love is for us. He is not far away, he is not inaccessible, he is in our midst and he calls us to see that by his wounds we are healed. When I partake of someone’s hurts, I know that Jesus (in whom the fullness of God dwells) partook in the worlds hurt so that we might find relief from the wounds we inflect upon one another. 

God is with us. I am reminded, all around me, that though there is much hurt in this world, Jesus is healing the broken heart, present in the broken home, embracing the forsaken, loving the hated, and accepting the rejected. 

God is not far from each one of us. I feel his embrace every day. May you see his works this Christmas season; This one they call “Emmanuel” (God with us).

May the peace of Christ be with you:
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Amen

Monday, December 6, 2010

Inception: The Consequence of Ideology

If you haven’t seen the movie “Inception”, do yourself a favor and watch it. It’s premise? That an idea planted in the deepest part of the subconscious would become an overarching obsession or theme which would manifest itself in an all consuming fashion within the one whom has received the inception of that idea. It further begs the question of reality and the depth of the human mind, and the layers of human cognition. 

 “Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?” – Edgar Allen Poe

When I first watched the movie, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. It seemed to me, in light of apathetic doctrine, that abstract conceptions deep within the confines of the mind did little to motivate action. Case and point, it has been my personal experience that the cognitive truths of the gospel do very little to motivate or create change within an individual (myself included). When I peer into my soul I find that same man (or child) that resided within me abideth still post-conversion. Is the progression in my life one of spiritual sanctification, or physical and sociological progression of maturity that accompanies the experience of every man? Far be it from me to marginalize the Spirit’s work within the confessing believer, but my conclusion at the time was that the cognitive Gospel made scarce few practitioners of the Christian life. 

Conclusion: Ideology had little or no consequence – therefore the premise of “Conception” was over stated.

If the most central and key component of the Christian faith, “the gospel” did little to motivate adherence to its principles, than all ideology must be useless. 

I have since felt quite differently about the powerlessness of ideas. I have recanted much of my sweeping generalizations and vilification of the tradition under which I have been nurtured into faith. My oedipal desire of slaying that which has created my spiritual construct is beginning to subside.  

I came to a clinching conviction while sitting in class “The Practice of a Generous Orthodoxy.” While unpacking the ways in which a generous orthodoxy is applied I began to probe for areas where reservation and apprehension was pulling the reigns upon my heart which longed to embrace the single holy catholic and apostolic church and recant of a factious, hubris, pseudo practice of faith. In that moment I was given a glaring illustration:

A good friend of mine has high esteem for the nation of Israel. His eschatological views make the state of Israel of utmost importance to the outcome of this world. I once shared similar views, but have since changed my stance drastically (that is another story for another time). I had recently come under deep conviction that the unlimited support American Evangelicals (monetarily and politically) have given to the nation of Israel has undermined the gospel, and has in fact perpetuated racism and injustice against Palestinians (especially Palestinian Christians). The way in which I would later go about broaching this subject, I fear, has greatly jeopardized that friendship. 

I have not found a way to relinquish the importance of what I perceive to be an injustice while remaining generous to my brother in Christ. 

So then, ideology does in fact determine the behaviors and paths of one’s life.
Thoughts and beliefs have consequences. Theology has consequences. 

To further illustrate I turn to an extreme example of conceptual motivation. This is a concept that has been highly embraced by the masses, without ever receiving critical reflection upon its implications. 

In the concept of Karma “humans have free will to choose good or evil and suffer the consequences, which require the will of God to implement karma's consequences.” I do not want to reduce an ancient religious concept to “My name is Earl,” but in essence, “do good things, and good things will happen to you. Do bad things and bad things will happen to you.” Seems innocent enough, right?

Consider that when something bad happens to a person, the ideology of Karma suggests that said person has done something to deserve the despair being brought upon them. What do we say to the victim of abuse, to the childless couple, to the man born blind? That in a past life their actions caused the infliction they now endure? Karma causes us to look with suspicion upon any person in suffering, an antithetical view of the restorative social implications of the Gospel of Christ. This ideology perpetuated the use of the Caste system for centuries in India, yet it is espoused from the lips of Hollywood celebrities and new age adherers without critique.

This is where I am stumped. Given that ideas have consequences, must a practice of a generous orthodoxy be abandoned and the pursuit of unity be forfeited because hermeneutical purity is asserted while moral outcome is ignored? Ideology, belief, faith, theology… they affect the way in which we as individuals and as a corporate body of believers engage the world around us. How can we abandon the process of theologizing and give the old “nod nod, wink wink” to each denominations doctrinal conviction?

I have a series of solutions to the presented problem, but I am not sure they are cohesive enough to address the very difficult dilemma I have approached. Undisputedly, generous orthodoxy is no easy and simple task. I do not submit that we abandon our current traditions in order to join in a watered down “theological jambalaya” as one friend of mine has called it.  I guess a good beginning place would be to acknowledge the strengths of denominationalism.

Denominations are much more like personalities than they are theological camps. Baptist, as much as it has theological distinction, has social distinction and unique personality. Presbyterian, as much as it has theological distinction, has social distinction and unique personality. And so on…

In composing the realization that ideology has consequences, I must ask whether or not the way in which we arrive at theological convictions concerning that nature of God may in fact need to be challenged? The method that I see most heavily used in my own circle is that certain succinct creedal statements becoming the pinnacle of theology, upon which biblical truth can be further extrapolated. Perhaps, in following these rabbit holes deeper and deeper we make it easier for ourselves to come to conclusions that are, dare I be so bold as to say, bizarre? 

So once more, I come to the conviction that a center of orthodoxy must be established (that which has been held by the church at all times). I suggest that from this dogmatic core of absolution we tread with humility into the realm of doctrine and preference. We do not forsake our traditions (as I am in a habit of doing), but rather we glean from those whose traditions have much to teach us. Starting with the center and working our way out means that these central convictions make their way into the deepest regions of our “sub-conscious”. They bury themselves into the caverns of our hearts, and from them we become practitioners of those who profess faith in Christ, and in so doing live in a diverse unity with our brethren.

The power of the gospel is not ideology and cognitive/individual acceptance thereof. The power of the gospel is a flesh and blood reality that is being manifest in this world. Ideas have consequences. May the inception of the gospel within your soul transcend explanation and overtake your life in its consequence.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear

Two tectonic plates sit in tension with one another, the one always pressing against the other. The pressure builds until something slips, and a violent reaction occurs. From this separation a seam is torn, and in its wake several other cracks, creating separate plates in tension with one another are formed. These plates are made of clay, and they are rigid because they are dry. But the plates can be restored in unity, the cracks can be sealed. Water will fall and the clay will once again become malleable. And at the hands of the potter the clay can be reformed into a single entity once again. 

Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear