On Holy Optimism

Anne: Can't you even imagine you're in the depths of despair?
Marilla: No, I cannot. To despair is to turn your back on God. 

I used to laugh at this part of the movie when I was a child, but now Marilla's words ring true. I don't think Christians are supposed to be the glass-half-full types, exactly. But, I do think that a Christian's outlook on life should be pretty rosy, because Jesus is the lens, and the light, by which we see.

That entire paragraph was full of cliches and quotations from other people. I'll offer you my own thoughts now. I'm a pessimist. I'm also a Christian. Sometimes, I don't feel that these aspects of my nature are at odds with one another. But, they are. Oh, how they are! People who are bubbly, consistently positive, or over-given to smiling tend to get on my nerves--but mainly because I feel that there is something false in, or absent from, a thoroughly optimistic person. Surely a happy person is happy either because they have never suffered or because they are faking it, that's my usual explanation. This is silly though, because the truest, most real Thing is God. And God is, in his essence, perfect happiness. Do you know how profound that is? God is happy.

God is happiness in the same way that God is love. It is one of his perfections, and God is the sum of all perfections: perfect power, perfect being, perfect goodness, perfect contentment. The realization that the foundation of reality is happiness hits me like a ton of bricks. It really does. God doesn't promise a happy life in the way that I tend to define happiness. My picture of happiness tends to be anti-Boethian. Boethius (and God, too I think) says that true happiness does not come from that which can be taken away. Think about that: if you can lose it, it cannot make you happy. You can lose things, relationships with people, your own health, a home. Happiness is not in these things then. Happiness is inherent in that which is secure, perfect, and eternal. God does not promise the happiness that I think will come with adequate personal space, a fulfilling career, or meaningful and healthy relationships. God does promise, however, perfection and eternal bliss. God promises a happiness that I cannot even conceive of, and the best part is that this happiness flows from his own laughing, loving nature.

I need to dwell on this idea a little more, because it's hard for me to think of God this way. And that's just my problem: unbelief. I'm unhappy, I'm given to pessimism and despair so often, because I'm given to unbelief. It's hard for me to believe what God says about himself when it relates to my own personal well-being. It's easy for me to believe, say, that God exists; it's easy for me to believe that he is all-knowing and all-powerful. It's easy for me believe that Jesus died for the sins of the masses, for the nations, for the world, for my friends. It's hard to believe that Jesus' salvation extends to me, also. It's hard for me to believe that he is genuinely interested in my life, in my particular life. It's hard for me to believe that God is happy, and that he wants me to be happy, too.

My patterns of sinfulness begin and end in unbelief. Anxiety, worry, fear, doubt--these are all differing manifestations of the same basic lie: that life is essentially a burden and that God is essentially grim. Therefore, because I spend so much time believing a lie, I spend a great deal of time doubting the truth. Hence, despair. And in my despair, I turn toward deception, giving my back to God. Marilla is a wise woman.

It's important for me to know that God is happy. God is happy, and he has invited me to share in his own divine happiness: the glorious perfect beatitude of the Trinity.

More on this from desiringgod.org:

So often we think of God as non-enthusiastic or even gloomy. The exact opposite is true: He loves to be God, He takes great pleasure in all that He does, and He is enthusiastic about serving His people and working for their welfare. For example, God says in Jeremiah 32:41: "I will rejoice in doing them good." Jesus said in John 15:11, "These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you." And Paul writes in 1 Timothy 1:11 of "the glorious gospel of the blessed God." Blessed means happy. So Paul is saying: "the glorious gospel of the happy God."

God is infinitely happy because he is infinitely glorious. And, the good news is that he invites us to enter into his happiness. Here is what Piper writes in The Pleasures of God (p. 26): "It is good news that God is gloriously happy. No one would want to spend eternity with an unhappy God. If God is unhappy then the goal of the gospel is not a happy goal, and that means it would be no gospel at all. But, in fact, Jesus invites us to spend eternity with a happy God when he says, ‘Enter into the joy of your master' (Matthew 25:23). Jesus lived and died that his joy-God's joy-might be in us and our joy might be full (John 15:11; 17:13). Therefore the gospel is ‘the gospel of the glory of the happy God.'"

So. The expectation for happiness is grounded in reality itself. 

Cheer up. Believe. God is happy.

And now, something to lift your spirits, courtesy of my friend, Sara:
Ignore the early 90's aesthetic and Christian materialism, pay attention to the chorus

Stupid Mod Cloth

All the dresses I like best on Mod Cloth are either $300 or sold out.

$294.99 Out of Stock

$124.99 Out of Stock

$129.99

$294.99

Out of Stock

$244.99

$287.99

OK, this one is from J. Crew. $265.00

$157.99



Now. Go to the Mod Cloth website, and note what happens when you search for dresses by "lowest price":

That's right, and they're in stock, too.

Grace Wholly Gratuitous, I Mean Pictures

Badgers, Virgins, & Saints

Art, Books, &tc.

Bulletin: for important news, clearly.

Oxie: Magdalen College & New College, respectively.

I've been decorating.
Sorry the pictures are so fuzzy.

A Living, Rushing Wind: On Creativity

Even in California, it's springtime. Birds are singing from the depths of their quick-beating, tiny bird hearts.

I'm re-reading Madeleine L'Engle's Walking on Water, and I'm discovering reality again. Why do I, a creative person, produce so little? Why isn't all of my free time given to writing diligently, like I ought to do? It's because I often choose to consume rather than to create.

Every day, every moment, I have to choose between consumption and creativity. I rarely choose creativity. In this materialistic world, it's really, really easy to waste your life consuming things instead of creating them.

When a person creates they are giving life, adding cosmos/truth/beauty to the world. When a person consumes they are using up resources--killing and destroying--ushering in a state of chaos. Cooking, reading, writing, loving, praying, worshiping--these create. Shopping, eating, Facebook, watching The Office, hating--these consume.

 Facebook and shopping are not evil, but they take away from the world. I am a consumer of life. Most of my existence has been spent taking.

Perhaps it's a question of balance. Consuming is all right, some forms of it are all right, if most of my life is spent creating. 

I think creativity is a way--a quite natural and simple way--to give to the world. The problem is that creativity is often difficult, exhausting, and frustrating, while consumption is easy and entertaining.

But, I would be a life-giver.

Creating is life giving, and holy, because it is an aspect of God's own Self. God benevolently gives. He lives. He creates life. If we are to reflect his nature, we too must create generously. Creation is an act of worship because to create is to imitate God's nature, and what is more worshipful than living in imitation of the One you adore?

It is much, much easier to consume when I come home tired at the end of a long day. To create I must be ready and attentive. It's hard to push past all of the noise and movement until I reach that still place, the still point, where creativity comes like a rushing wind.


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

Icons of the Real, pt. 2

I'm still mulling over the Mother Theresa prayer:

"Though you hide yourself behind the unattractive disguise of the irritable, the exacting, the unreasonable, may I still recognize you, and say: 'Jesus, my patient, how sweet it is to serve you.'"

Seeing Jesus in the faces of others is not, perhaps, a panacea to making you more loving toward them. At least, not yet.

I've been trying, these last few weeks, to see Jesus in the faces of people who try my patience. But, I've discovered a PROBLEM: people sin. Jesus didn't. How does one see Jesus in the face of a child throwing a tantrum, for example? Or in the face of some creep who drives slowly beside you, offering you a ride as you walk home?

I've been trying this out at work. I think the principle is that a Jesus-follower strives to treat Jesus with all the glory, love, and attention He deserves. Therefore, if I see Jesus in the faces of roommates, family members, or the displaced, I will treat them with loving esteem and attentiveness. But, it's sort of easy to esteem Jesus. He doesn't annoy me, he doesn't smell bad, he doesn't talk back, he cleans up after himself. How can I honor Jesus through a person who sins, or who sins toward me?

I don't know.

But, goodness, think of how holy I'd be if I could do that! I'd be like God. Isn't that just what God does? He looks at my ugly sinfulness and sees Jesus. On that basis, we're friends. How does God do it? It seems impossible.

". . .All the other Distance/He hath traversed first—/No New Mile remaineth—/Far as Paradise—. . ."

Did Jesus look at "tax collectors and sinners" and see his own face?

Hymns are Nice, Sometimes

Michaela Rae's blog post today reminded me that I like hymns, too. Here's one I'm especially fond of:

1. O Love that wilt not let me go,
   I rest my weary soul in thee;
   I give thee back the life I owe,
   That in thine ocean depths its flow
   May richer, fuller be.
2. O light that foll’west all my way,
   I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;
   My heart restores its borrowed ray,
   That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
   May brighter, fairer be.
3. O Joy that seekest me through pain,
   I cannot close my heart to thee;
   I trace the rainbow through the rain,
   And feel the promise is not vain,
   That morn shall tearless be.
4. O Cross that liftest up my head,
   I dare not ask to fly from thee;
   I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
   And from the ground there blossoms red
   Life that shall endless be.

Icons of The Real

To see Jesus in other people you have to first see Jesus in himself, I think. If you would treat a person with reverence and kindness because you see Jesus in them, you first have to become a person who treats Jesus with kindness and reverence.

To see Jesus in the faces of the sick, means that to see Jesus in the face of God is already meaningful.

What would you do if Jesus was physically present at your workplace? In your home? Maybe the answer to these questions is not as straightforward as I used to think.

I can ignore him while invisible, so why am I certain I'd pay attention to him if he was close enough to poke in the arm?

I want to treat Jesus with love and hospitality, and then I want to see Jesus in the students I work with.