Another Letter

Here is another letter I found written about 10 months after I wrote the first letter I posted. Its a little juvenile but I have found that everything you write is that way once you've outgrown it.

Dear you,

I know you want me to trust you. You should know that I want to very badly to. Let me tell you a story that might help you understand why it takes so long for me to give my entire heart to you. It’s not an excuse but a plea that you will be patient with my scarred heart.

It started almost 9 months ago when I met someone who I loved very deeply. Unfortunately for me, he chose to break my heart into a million pieces. I am not going to get into the messiness of the whole thing because I don’t think you want to hear that all. From that I began guarding my heart, well not really guarding, but saving my heart. I, unconsciously learned that the more I trusted, the more I loved, the bigger the pain was when I was crushed and left alone. It’s a lot like the whole having a dog thing. I have learned to carefully analyze the cost and benefits of a relationship. This is not fair, and it’s a habit that I am learning and really trying to break.

God is really been the person putting me back together. For the first time, possibly in my entire existence, I am ok with being “alone”. I am not saying I want to be, but if that’s what it takes I am willing to follow that path. I know that God has big plans for both of our lives. While that is not necessarily holding me back, it does come into account. It’s one of those things that I question and that bring me doubts. I am sorry and I know that it is really hard for you to get to know me because often times, I am a fortress. It really will take time because that is the only way I will be able to tell if you’re for real. But we do have a long time to figure this out.

I can tell you that I really like you. You are a really good person and the more I get to know you, the more I can see you being in my life. I think at first I was really careful about you because I cared so much about the kids that I wanted to make sure you were legit. But now that I have seen you, I know your heart is good. I am sorry I have such high standards. But you haven’t failed at any of them so far. I know that I already said that I didn’t like you, but I hope you’ll ignore that. I will also never let you read this because it’s silly, and the way I piece together my thoughts in a concrete way. I have never communicated in a better way. But I am chicken to give people these because then they will never forget the things I’ve said. But I’ve decided to start letting you in.

Yours Truly,

Me.

A Little Thought

Where we are, is not where we have always been. The tricky thing about living in history is blindness to one’s own situation. It is like living with a hand in front of one’s face. The hand is culture and family ties, and personal interpretation of all that passes over the senses. The hand is dreams, desires, hopes, failures and pain. We are so set in our way of thinking that all we can see is what is right before us. In different lights and moods our hand looks different (especially as we grow older and start to see lines and wrinkles) however we can only see as if in a tunnel. If we begin to put into context that our hand is connected to a wrist we must move our hand away to keep seeing more. Suddenly there is an elbow, and then we look down and see our feet, a strong foundation. Our perspective shifts when we realize that we not only have a hand but that it works with so many different parts to allow movement, or stasis.

Where we are is not where we have always been. As we study history there is cause for rejoicing. Our particular vein of Christianity, a stream of Protestant, Evangelical, pop-culture-informed, Christianity is not the only way to follow Christ. We must remove this hand to discover what lies just after the wrist. If we were to take a survey of the Christian past we could see our rich faith more clearly. I like to think that as Paul writes, “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (1 Cor. 13:12) We can apply this even to our study of history. That by finding our fathers and mothers we draw closer to the kind of faith that sees completely

Although there has been much advancing in our understanding of Biblical interpretation and theological conversation, we cannot simply address the good without a healthy balance of bad. The modern criticism and confluence of philosophy, world cultures and globalization in combination with almost a century of war left our parent’s generation in a dangerous situation. The possible outcomes were a state of apostasy or the therapeutic moralistic Christianity that is prevalent today. In one stream we have the destruction of faith an in the other, a distortion of it. In either case, we are at a loss when it comes to figuring out our own identity. Greta Scacchi said, “I have done everything I can to make sure my daughter knows her father because you form your own identity by rebelling against your parents - but first you have to know them. “ The past 5o years or so have disconnected us from our fathers, and we are having a troubling time forming our own identity.

This potentially impacts the way that we function in roles. We discussed in class the need for mentors as well as rites of passage. Without the passage into adulthood (whatever that looks like) we do not feel quite as enabled or allowed to grow up into the great things that are set out before us. This is to our downfall. The church has in the past been a leader and a full family for the fatherless. We are left with such a sense of loss and disparity. We are left to the freedom of creating our own traditions and standards. This is not to say that we have lost all hope. This is why diligent study is necessary. Our fellow humans are at a loss. They have such differing ideas of truth, and many are lost in the sway and tide of popular norms. Some of our fellow Christians believe but are on a state of tottering faith, not knowing why they believe what they believe.

This is why we must study historical theology. Not only do we discover a rich history of influences that have lay under the radar that need a closer examination, like a foreign spider to the naturalist, but we find reasons for drawing into the way things which have unfolded. We must study history, like a child to see our parents and form our identity in comparison or contrast to what we see. Our praxis and doxa must be informed by our history.

In American post modern culture I would argue that we have too much freedom. We have our practices set so varied among structures that have no form. A stanza in a poem by AR Ammons reads,

if the web were
perfectly adaptable,
if freedom and possibility were without limit,
the web would
lose its special identity:

Like the spider with the perfectly adaptable web, there are simply too many different webs that we are weaving to really identify what species (identity in relation to community) we are. No longer can we look at the things the church does to identify it with the greater whole. We have lost historical witness. There should be a greater emphasis, not on correct liturgy and practice but on catholic liturgy and pillar-ed tenets of faith (such as baptism, communion, and confession). In the canon we see such beautiful diversity and rich unity. Our church should be the same way. We should turn, with historical example to a church that has the diversity that we have, but also unified in our familial and communal history as a part of God’s continually unfolding story.

When we understand the value of our historical faith, not only do we look past our hand to see a wrist, but when we realize that we are standing we look beyond ourselves to the horizon. There lays a brilliant sunrise, milky and vibrant, we have no choice but to take a deep breath and wonder what part we play in this grand scheme. We are put into humble context as the followers of a beautiful Creator-God. It is not our story, rather we reflect the chronicle of God.

The Shift

The day I saw

you were talking

to some younger boys.

In bold contrast

it was you

who were wise.

There was a shift

and in perspective

the veil lifted.

I knew you

as someone to know

the deep and shallow.

I desired you

to know my

self.

Say What You Need To Say

Recently, and I am unsure as to why, I have had this surge of emotion, triggered by people or issues Theology. Usually these emotions are like a surge of anger, or frustration or just this desire to be contradictory. I don't think, however, I am just trying to argue or be contradictory for no reason. I feel like I must be wrestling with something really powerful. Here is my attempt to hammer this out. I must apologize because I feel like I must not suppress this.

I believe a large part of what I have been feeling had stemmed from a conference I went to with a bunch of boys. I call them boys because I just see so much growth that needs to happen. I was accosted by pride and testosterone and this wall. By wall I simply think of something that you talk at, yell at, push around but it never moves. I don't think I was listened to the entire weekend. I would ask a question, not looking for a sermon, but that is what I got and they wouldn't listen to objections or the things I had to say. Then when I got home it just seemed like the same thing but with different friends. I wanted to talk about how great some of the conference was and how frustrating other parts were, but there was no one to listen. This made me especially notice when on Monday night last week I tried to tell a friend, who asked what was wrong, and after I told him he switched the subject to some stupid thing about Complementarianism, completely without a point. Sometimes, I just need someone to listen. I have things I need to say and just a friend to listen and not chime in right away.

Then, in a lot of my classes this past week, I'll need to say something, but I just don't, I am not sure why I don't just say what I need to say. Then I was very rudely asked, "Why are you talking?" in a very heated discussion. This hit so closely to this silencing that I have either done to myself, or unknowingly, people have done to me.

When I do attempt to speak what is on my mind it comes out just so horrible. I am angry or mean and un-compassionate. I hate that. But its just this surge of feelings because I will not be silenced, and I fight against a lot of things to be heard. But I also like to listen because I know that I don't know best. I know that there are many things to learn and if I am always talking then I cant ever see that. There is a humility in remaining silent, but there is also humility in understanding when its time to speak. And that is something that I must learn to distinguish better. A time for everything the writer of Ecclesiastes says.

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven--
A time to give birth and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal;
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost;
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;
A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace.

~ Ecclesiates 3:1-8

Safer

Safer

It is safer in the knowing.

Here is unsafe.

It is not the know but the unknow.

Where I am upside down

Beside myself with fear

The unknow is not dark but light.

A different kind of confusion.

The safer place may be found

But the key to the dark is lost.

Organic Bits

Organic Bits (9/1/09)

Insects floating and organic bits illuminated
as moving lace, bolted across the brilliant close of day
A gentle breeze playing the summer melody,
making the lace dance in spiraled reels
And my heart finds peace with the timeless flow of life.

DOMINATION.

A catch phrase this past semester as I delve into the waters of feminist theology is domination. I have experienced this word over and over again in readings and have begun to understand the implications of a Christianity that has domination of some in a hierarchical scheme. While I understand that our entire system is built on a method of leadership and social constructs that rely on one person being the "head" and the other person (or people) being the body, I simply do not think that the dominating of any part of humanity is Biblical.

There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear. When there is leadership that requires another group of people to be submissive, either unwillingly or willingly because of innocence, that incites fear and the possibility for our tendency to exploit good things. Domination stems from this idea or concept of "better". "I am better than x,y,z." or "You are better than me because x, y, z." These things lead to this degrading of ourselves, or of others. Which must come first. Well I think Jesus was the first to upend the idea of first and last within the Kingdom. I think that it would be along the same vein to now discuss the idea of not first and last or better and lesser, but equals. Equality demands that there be no domination by mutual and complete submission to one another. I think as we move back toward the wholeness of the Kingdom, we will need to see this equality, with only Christ for Master. He is the only one deserving.

I think if we look back to the Israelites we can see the same thing. This idea that the people group wants a leader, a king instead of the Almighty God. It was humanities need and desire to be a nation like every other that established a king, that could not live up to the way that a true monarch, Like the Godhead, could rule. I don't think that any part of humanity was made for dominion.

I see this infiltrate even my relationships. I had a friend recently take something of mine, that I had in fact given freely when he had asked. He decided that he needed and wanted more of this thing that was mine, and so he took it, establishing his control based on the necessity of the object. I returned to where he was and saw what he had done. What I did not understand was why someone would want to put themselves above a fellow Christian. If we truely were all equal, both among the classes, races and genders, would we still have this want? Is it simply so ingrained in our human nature to grasp at what is not ours and try to control that which does not belong to us? I cannot but hope that there is room for redemption in the human (both male or female.) WE must continue to strive for this perfect love to drive out all the fear that sin insinuates within our experience. If my friend was not afraid that I would not give him more than he would never have taken without asking. This of course is just a minor illustration in the grand scheme of things to bring it to earth.

Another thing to think about is something a friend of mine, Nathan, said in a class. It is so tragic when the dominant hierarchy on which we base our lives on falls apart. A lot of time we associate this with the problem of pain, and evil. I am thinking that it is more than that. I think that this is an indication of how our assertion of that hierarchy being correct is untrue. Maybe the failing of our systems of power fail because they are not true and real structures that God would have in Her kingdom.

These are just my thoughts as I experience the word.

The Silence

Ok, right now, I am experiencing a great amount of silence. Not a literal silence, but a great internal silence. Usually my thoughts are running around a mile a minute inside of my head but right now its as if they've hung up their track shoes and have their bunny slippers. I'll be trying to have an intellectual conversation, or just think deeply about things and its as if I zoom out to the big picture and everything blurs as if I just took off my glasses. And then there is stillness. Its been a beautiful thing: a gift in itself. In my stillness I am allowed by whoever it is directing my narrowed focus to dwell on things in a different light.

It is a peace that can look on tempests and not be shaken, to quote a little Shakespeare. I think that this gift has given so that I can look back on the relational pain that I have experienced this past year and understand why there are those things in life, and how I shouldn't be afraid of them. I am reading this book right now called Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy and Fairy Tale. In the part that I am reading, it is talking about how truth is silent. It is the great awkward pause before we can frame truth with words. The expecting of ourselves for the answer, then the receiving and digesting of that framing of that silence.

This Gospel must be tragedy before it can be redeemed. On the cross, Christ experienced this absence, this tragedy of knowing how far apart God is from us. "[He] shares with us the darkness of what it is to be without God as well as shoing forth the glory of what it is to be with God." I think that darkness has been what I have been going through. I see how far from God that I am but how Gods-self is continually finding me. This is why I am given the gift of silence. To understand through the absence the tragedy in the Gospel, even if it is only a fraction of what others experience.

And for that I am truly thankful.

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is error, the truth;
Where there is doubt, the faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled, as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.
- St. Francis of Assisi

Just An Old Letter.

This was written several years ago. In the effort of allowing myself to be heard, I decided that I would publish it, even if you aren't my intended reader. You might not understand it.

Dear You,

I do not understand you. I can barely write the words to describe what I think about you. You are complex and smart, too smart for your own good. I think that you have found that putting your heart into another person’s hands is hard and it takes a lot of trust. I think that you must have had your heart broken very badly for you to be like this. I can’t tell if you are afraid of being loved or afraid of the risk. I think that you also fear things falling apart and crashing down around you. That hurt is terrible too. I think that is why you sabotage the good things in your life. I think this is why you mess up. It’s not because you can’t do well, it’s because you are afraid of people knowing that you messed up and letting them down. You can’t let people down when they don’t have high expectations, right?

I think I scare you. I like you very much and you know that. I think you also know that I have high expectations. There is nothing safe about me to you. I have seen the way you look at me. I hate you for that because now you are saying different things then what I think you really mean. Your silence, when I question you, is a betrayal that stings. You asked me for a chance and it’s not the first chance I have given you. And it’s not the last. I know that because I also know that you are so much more worth being loved than you think you are.

I don’t understand why you would pick me to do this to. I didn’t ask you to want me. I didn’t ask for your attention. I have found that I can get by without you. But that’s not what I want and I don’t think it’s what you want either. When I tried to get over you, the way you acted betrayed your feelings. I asked you why you didn’t call and you asked, “What happened to the dude?” I don’t think that would have been your response had you not wanted me too. Before that you distanced yourself. Why? You acted like you wanted to be just friends, but I don’t want to be just friends! And that’s why you sabotage everything. I don’t think that you’re going to fail. I don’t think that would be possible. I gave you me, why can’t you do the same? I trusted you, why can’t you trust me? As long as things remain unspoken and confined to your house when your roommates aren’t home you are fine.

I am really mad at you but I know that every time I see you or talk to you or am completely honest with myself when I think about you I know that my heart is invested in you. I keep trying to get over you. I wish I didn’t have to try. You see the thing is, I’d rather be heartbroken than to not have known you. But I’d also rather not be heartbroken. Why would you ask for me to give you a chance? Why wouldn’t you take it? I can’t wait for you to find someone you trust enough to give yourself to. You’ll finally learn that all the pain and expectation and fear and trust and hope is completely worth it. You’ll understand what I was offering you and I hope you regret the way you abandoned me. By then it won’t matter because you’ll have forgotten all about me.

I want this to be a goodbye letter but I know I won’t send it. I know you’ll never read it unless, that is, if you find a way to trust me. Then I might let you in a little more. The door is cracked because you knocked once upon a time. I’m not sure you remember doing that. All you need to do come in and start taking off your coat. That might be a lame metaphor but it’s kind of how it is. I think you’re better than how you act and so you should know that I give second chances, and third chances. Actually I’ve never denied anyone any sort of chance. I like you and that is why this is so hard. But I need to protect my heart right now. If I let you have your way with it right now, I won’t have anything left. I wish it was different. When you weren’t sabotaging me, you never let me down. I wish you weren’t afraid. I hope someone finds a way to heal you.

Love, me

It’s not everything because there are a lot of good things about you but I think this is what I needed you to hear.