chasing the sun

I feel peaceful and forlorn today…maybe it’s because I’m tired and out of energy. I could use a good nap or a long vacation. Mostly, though, I think my heart is broken.

Not to worry, no romance has gone awry; it’s just an overwhelming feeling of sadness. It’s not because I have lost anything, or because I have been sinned against. No. It’s the death of “me”-ness. The fog of self-absorption that has controlled my thinking for the last few months is dissipating, clearing a path and making visible the world around me. But I miss it…in a sick and twisted way… I miss the comfort of being on the fringes of my life and I no longer having any sort of excuse for not participating.

It feels both very pleasant and almost horrifying.

It comes in waves, doesn’t it?
Brilliance – emotion – enlightenment – oppression – grace - compassion.
They cycle through me like seasons, taking me from below freezing temperatures to sunny days without a moment’s notice.

What happens now, God? Now that you’ve saved me from myself and slapped some sense back into my wandering heart and mind?

Do you ever feel like you’ve come just so far and you are reaching out and you are poised, ready to leap, when something…an unseen force of grace and wisdom…holds you back, whispering words like “patience” and “trust” in your ear?

There was no peace before this peace
There was not love before this love

Maybe tomorrow, or the next day, when I settle back down to earth and I’m thinking clearly again, I’ll forget how I feel right at this moment, free and still in my soul. But for now I wait and pray, as often as I remember to, for the next step.

I think He knows and He’s waiting, waiting to see if I’m serious this time, if I’m really ready for what I am asking Him to show me.

I went to a conference this weekend. It was for college students from across the country to talk about AIDS, primarily in Africa, but other places like Russia and India were mentioned as areas where the disease is starting to gain momentum. Tragically, however, I began to see signs that these passionate and motivated students were being hindered by their own short-sightedness. They have a lot of passion and desire to make the world a better place and to rid the world of HIV and AIDS, yet they do not see that God has given the church this task and that they are a part of that church.

For better or for worse, as Christians, we belong to this body called the church…the body of Christ. It is not an institution or a corporate entity in a formal sense, but rather it is a living, breathing organism…capable (at times) of intelligent thought and aggressive action. And, as one of the speakers, a doctor from South Africa, so boldly stated,

“The body of Christ is HIV positive.”

There are over 300 million Christians in Africa, the speaker said. That’s more than the entire population of the United States. We can no longer ignore a part of our body that is infected and dying. We just can’t. Nor can we give up on the part of the body that only watches suffering and tragedy on the evening news and continues to do nothing. For reasons that sometimes are only known to God, we need every part.

Most discouraging of all was when I came back from the conference and spent the better part of a day looking on the internet at different organizations that are dealing with these problems. Bold faith and compassionate social justice don’t seem to find home where they can peacefully and effectively co-exist. Most organizations forsake one for the other, which is just unacceptable.

So, I ask you…what are we, the so-called “emerging church,” going to do? We’re trying to re-discover this ancient faith and to re-connect spirituality and theology. But we have to choose to honor God by remaining faithful to Christ, to his body, no matter how sick or poor or ignorant or stubborn it may be. As much as I long for a whole-life faith, I cannot help sever ties that make it possible for that faith to exist in the world. No, I must work, we must work to strengthen our ailing body, its physical condition, spirituality and heart need to be healed.

There’s this girl…she doesn’t actually exist, well, maybe somewhere she does, but I don’t know her personally…she’s the girl I wish I was. She’s brilliant, passionate, fun, encouraging, strong, secure, compassionate, kind, thoughtful, and gentle…

And then there’s this other girl…she’s terse, fearful, angry, mean, stubborn, cold, forgetful, insecure, and a loner…this is who I am most days…I despise this girl.

I can feel myself responding badly to people and I am aware of almost every stupid and rude thing I do. But I don’t stop myself!! Instead I just react and then feel guilty about it, adding each incident to the pile I have stored up in my crazy head. They swim around for hours, days, years even, not really resolving or landing. This clearly isn’t healthy.

People will tell you that you need to learn to “let go” of that stuff. That “guilt is a worthless emotion.” But who can really do that? And won’t you teach me how to stop torturing myself??

I’ve been reading a lot lately about my personality type (those personality tests really are both wonderful and wretched, I might add) and I can’t help but think that I have been blessed with the most undesirable personality type in the lot. Apparently, some of the things I perceive as flaws are actually personality traits that will be with me forever. Because you can’t really change your personality, can you?

Anyway, from now on I’m wearing a t-shirt that says: “No, this really is the way I am. I’m sorry.”

Arrrggghhh!

I don’t often take taxis. They’re expensive; and I am, after all, a poor grad student. Not to mention, I got one of those 30-day CTA passes for free and I feel compelled to use it like crazy since they’re normally $75. But, at the insistence of a friend (because it was after midnight), I hailed a cab instead of waiting for the bus. What followed was one of the most interesting conversations I’ve had in a long time.

The driver, Mike is his name, started asking me all kinds of questions almost immediately. Do I like Chicago? What do I do? Where am I from? The conversation soon turned to politics and he was surprised to hear that I was from Texas but not a Republican. When I told him I was a Bible college student, he got excited and started asking some very practical moral questions as if I was the standard of truth he’d been searching for, the one who would validate his moral decisions. When we finally arrived at my apartment, he turned the meter off and we talked for about 20 more minutes.

Mike is a friendly sort of chap of undetermined origins who has pert opinions concerning minorities who have too many children. I listened thoughtfully, hoping maybe I would have a chance to sneak in something about systemic oppression and its long-term affects on the poor, disenfranchised and marginalized in our society (mental note: that’s a great topic for my dissertation).

Anyway, I think I left the cab with more questions than answers, but what I did come away with only made sense to me the following day when I was reading about Soren Kierkegaard for a Church History assignment. I wondered why, with all my years of schooling and theological education, I had no convincing response to Mike’s doubts about the nature of life and truth. Kierkegaard strongly believed that the only way we can endure this existence, which more often than not is painful and difficult, is by faith. To quote from the book I’m reading:

“To Kierkegaard, faith is not a mental conviction about doctrine, nor positive religious feelings, but a passionate commitment to God in the face of uncertainty. Faith is a risk (the “leap of faith”), an adventure that requires the denial of oneself. To choose faith is what brings authentic human existence.”

Truth is truth, but it is faith which helps us understand just how true truth is…a choice to believe that something exists outside of ourselves that we cannot see or understand fully, but yet are mysteriously drawn to in a very real way. In other words, you aren’t really living until you choose to believe in something outside yourself. This brings your whole self into full focus, your reality becomes tangible.

For folks like Mike, accepting blanket truth is difficult because no one has bothered to explain faith to them. Who could tackle such an assignment…other than the author of Hebrews, of course? [“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” (Heb 11:1)] Realism is not true realism without acknowledging the existence of something other, isn’t that strange? Christians may stand on truth, but in the end, that’s just the law if it is not presented with an understanding that faith and not simple self-discipline enables us to believe the truth.

Heretical? Maybe…Cryptic? Definitely…but I love Kierkegaard’s beautiful prayer,

“Teach me, O God, not to torture myself, not to make a martyr out of myself through stifling reflection, but rather teach me to breath deeply in faith.”

Mike said he thought I was a nice person and a “good Christian” (not sure what he meant by that). He very graciously shaved two dollars off my fare and refused the tip I offered him. And he only gave me one bit of advice before I got out of his cab…”Jenn, you should get married!!”
Thanks, Mike!

Do you think every generation feels
the sense of longing and desire
for peace and true communion
that we feel?
Do you think they could put it into words,
or did they just act out in aggression,
or make controversial music,
or start chain-smoking?

I think the true hippies felt it.
I think Israel in bondage in Egypt felt it.
I think Martin Luther felt it when he penned his 95 Theses and nailed them to the church door.

God is becoming more real to me.
He’s doing the very thing I have asked and pleaded with Him to do
I see His schemes,
His vision…
I see Him for who He truly is.
More than mere superhero,
He is,
in His very being,
the response to all questions
of “Why?” and “How?”
I could ever ask.

I wish I knew how,
without speaking the muddled language of commercial Christianity,
I could describe the God who is revealing Himself to us…to me.
It’s not so mysterious that it cannot be felt,
the presence of God.
Neither is it so systematic that it can be understood fully…

The word that comes to mind first is ALIVE.

If God is a person,
yet more than a person,
but still a person,
then He is alive.
And just like me and you,
He is a bit of the practical and mysterious intertwined,
though perhaps a more perfect blend
than you or me.