Showing posts with label absence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label absence. Show all posts

Saturday 17 November 2012

Branding instead of Beauty

It's the third day of my Nativity Fast, and I'm feeling fond of emotional capitalization. At least, I think so. The weather is cooling, though not cold, as though the days are a preface to sacredness, but not the Thing itself. I have to admit that I'm awful at fasting. Why do I even attempt it? I think one day I'll move past the rudimentary acquisition of discipline and begin to gain something from these moments of self-denial. I've begun reading through Isaiah, which seems fitting, because it starts out in a tone as morbid as my own feelings. Oh, how my thoughts are wandering just now. Yesterday, I finished re-reading Home, by St. Marilynne Robinson, and I feel closely connected to the character of Jack Boughton. 

Jack, the Prodigal Son, can't come home even when he is home. I feel like that sometimes. Jack hears but does not understand, and he sees but does not perceive. And he is lonely. Jack is a faithless character who was raised within the Faith (see the emotional capitalization again?). He is surrounded by others whose lives are filled with Love and Virtue, people who are reaching their arms out to him, longing to comfort him, all day long. But Jack cannot be comforted, it is the nature of his affliction to be alone in his vice. I think his character scratches at my heart so sharply because I often feel like him. I think this is one of the reasons it comforted me to read Home again, because sometimes I need to be reminded that loneliness is part of the human experience. We are born into sin, and alienated from God, after all. What could be more lonely than being at odds with the All-Perfect Creator of your own soul?

So people are lonely. Is there anything more to be said?

I'm currently terrified of reaping what I sow. There are so many verses in the Bible concerned with this general principle: "whatever one sows, that will he also reap." I'm more comfortable thinking that the great Gospel Narrative is about helping me not to reap what I sow.   . . .for all have sinned. . .   No one wants to reap the misery of a fallen humanity.

"Tell the righteous that it shall be well with them,
        for they shall eat the fruit of their deeds.
    Woe to the wicked! It shall be ill with him,
        for what his hands have dealt out shall be done to him.


In these next 37 days, I'm going to try to sow actions I'd actually be glad to harvest."



Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things and give me life in your ways.

Saturday 16 June 2012

The Fullness of Absence

What is life, but to be near you?  

If God is perfectly happy, then he must act in ways which tend to his, and our own, happiness. This brings me to the subject of the Ascension. During Advent, or any other time of the year when the church reflects on the incarnation of Christ, we dwell on the wonder of his humanity. Jesus had ears, and he ate fish, and he took walks with his friends, and he cried, and he laughed. And he touched the sick and blessed them. After such pondering, we sing a hymn and go home. But this is just what frustrates me. If the wonder of God-With-Us moves us to worship, how are we to feel about God-With-Us going back to God, leaving us here all alone?

I'll tell you how it makes me feel. It makes me feel lonely, and sad. Angry, too. Sometimes, it seems that it would be best if Jesus could come over for tea, or sit next to me in church, or be one of my co-workers, or walk with me to the library. He can't though, because he's gone. His physical presence, the thing we celebrate so often--the catalyst of our redemption--is absent. That is an ache.

And it aches. I want him to come back, because I'm lonely without him.

So, I struggle with God's physical absence. God-With-Us isn't (physically) with us anymore. How can there be good in this? So much of my struggle is walking in the reality of the life of God. It's easy to forget that God is who he is (Ever-Present, Faithful, Loving, True, Happy, Real) when he doesn't drop by for dinner.

There are a few things I've been reading lately that have helped immensely with this angst:
Christ said that it would be BETTER for us if he went away, because the Holy Spirit is just that good. He said that though he, our Tender Pioneer, was leaving us, he was sending The Holy Spirit to be our Friend in his place.

What's more, Christ's primary allegiance is to the Father. Jesus went back to God, his Father, and he sat down beside God in the place of honor. He deserved to go back to God: think of all he endured. It was owed to him.  I forget to ask myself about what Jesus is doing at the right hand of the Father. I'm so concerned about what he isn't doing here, that I forget Christ might have any work to do in heaven. I also forget that it might interest the second person of the Trinity to pick up all his former glory and spend time with his Dad. What would God be doing if we, if all of creation, were out of the picture? God is eternal, but what does he spend most of his time doing? Is that a stupid question? I think the answer is that God needs to spend time with himself. His own Triune priorities come first. Since he is the most Real, Important, and Eternal being, his main goal is to glorify himself, without creation he would still have plenty to do, basking in the light of his own glory. And this is as it should be. But still, creation does exist: up in heaven he also intercedes for us, prepares a place for us, and loves us. 

And so Jesus left.
But the disciples' response was that of worship, they didn't sit around and cry. They rejoiced and they waited. Hear this:
"You're the first to hear and see it. You're the witnesses. What comes next is very important: I am sending what my Father promised to you, so stay here in the city until he arrives, until you're equipped with power from on high." He then led them out of the city over to Bethany. Raising his hands he blessed them, and while blessing them, took his leave, being carried up to heaven.And they were on their knees, worshiping him. They returned to Jerusalem bursting with joy.They spent all their time in the Temple praising God. Yes.
Pentecost (which was a really big deal) brought with it a sense of universal presence: God reaching out to the ends of the earth, drawing all peoples toward himself. Do you hear that? Pentecost--the presence of the Holy Spirit and the absence of Christ--made God available to everyone.  . .not just in Nazareth, not just two thousand years ago. . .but even in our own time. . .even to the ends of the earth. The Friend brought, and continues to bring, presence, truth and fullness.
  There are some practical realities to be considered here as well. One, Jesus didn't speak English. Would we be able to communicate if he were still here? Two, Jesus lived in Israel, but I live in America. Plane tickets are expensive. Three, if Jesus were still on earth, why do I think he'd have time to hang out with me when every other Jesus-follower & Jesus-hater would be clamoring for his attention? I mean, really. Who says I'd be one of the disciples in Jesus' inner circle? Plus, he'd be so old. He couldn't die, since death has no authority over him, but what would it be like for Jesus to walk around, 2,000 years old? Clearly this speculation is ludicrous. I'm glad of it. It's good that he went away. It's best.   So, it aches. But it is better so. Ascension is followed by Pentecost. And Pentecost is a big deal. "You Galileans! - why do you just stand here looking up at an empty sky?"
  "You've heard me tell you, 'I'm going away, and I'm coming back.' If you loved me, you would be glad that I'm on my way to the Father because the Father is the goal and purpose of my life."   Not as I will, but as You will. 

Saturday 11 February 2012

Lenten Preparations

I'm trying to decide what I should give up for Lent. This will be my second year actually observing all forty days. It's so strange to consider giving up something I'd rather keep. It's also strange because I remember how very endless Lent felt last year, and how the best part of that experience, was growing in an awareness of my own wickedness. It's terrible to contemplate one's faults. But, this is the point I think. I want to give up an unnecessary thing that I have come to believe is necessary. Something I turn to for comfort, entertainment, or solace instead of turning to God, or simply sitting in the presence of my own emptiness. There are some options spinning around in my head right now, but I sometimes find it hard to choose wise self-denial over masochism. I also learned last year that fasts really reconfigure human relationships. If I give up, say, going to the movies, or eating out, then I'm denying pleasures for other human beings besides myself. Lent is great, I tell you, because it also made me aware that my actions happen in community. Maybe I should just decide to do everything more slowly. I want this year to be about slowing down in meaningful ways. I want to calmly savor life, instead of swallowing it whole and running for the door.

Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things, and give me life in your ways.

Friday 15 October 2010

Trinkets make me feel loved.

I feel SO loved today. Why? Because I'm eating spaghetti and chocolate layer cake for lunch made by my roommate Kaitlin; because I'm wearing earrings and bangles from my friend Katelyn in India; because I will eat Jamaican food for dinner tonight sent from my home by my mama; because I have rainbow ribbon ballet flats that used to belong to my friend Emily; because I have pretty pink Gerber daisies on the coffee table beside me from my roommate Melissa; because I'm using for a bookmark a postcard from my friend Amber in New Mexico; because I hugged a lot of Kindergartners today. I love stuff. Judge me if you need to. I love having pretty things around me that remind me of the dear ones far away. And, let me tell you, 98% of all the dear ones there are, are far away. It's the saddest thing. But it makes me feel better to drink from the little white teapot that served as a centerpiece at my friend Jenn's wedding in Idaho; or to wear the cameo that was my bridesmaid gift from Bethany who's living in Istanbul. I am not denying my materialism. I should probably sell all I have and give it to the poor and seek treasure in heaven. But, the point is, that being surrounded by aesthetically pleasing, visual reminders of friendship is really important to me.

That's why I've got so much stuff. That's why when I'm homesick for a place it's the trees I miss most. It's raining today.