Many-Sided Tug-of-War

Recently, I've had no idea how to put my thoughts and feelings into words. Or, perhaps more appropriately, I have no idea what my thoughts and feelings are. There is a mass of colors and movements and undercurrents and angles of light that are all mixed together and I have no idea how to separate them out. I am moving and being moved, but I have no idea how or where or why. My supervisor, since the very beginning of my internship, has advocated the learning of what it means to live in community. At first, I thought that he simply meant listening to others, living with them, learning to live in forgiveness. And I'm sure that's part of it. But the more I think about it, the more I come to believe that it also means learning how to work towards an understanding of the community, the world, and God. Because since coming to Berlin and living in this particular community, my ability to self-differentiate, understand God, and think about life has been both greatly diminished and also opened up beyond imagination. This community has overwhelmed me in so many ways that I don't know what to think or where to go. I have nothing to say, and everything to say. I just don't know how.

There are many here who are marked by living during the time of the Berlin wall. And it affects every part of their being. One woman remarks on that time and then about the other tragedies around the world and wonders where God is. But in the next breath looks around at creation and comments that she doesn't understand how anyone can deny the existence of God. Some were protesters at the wall. Many have had to learn Russian and have tried hard to forget it. Another actually is Russian. Others are from Africa, some who are here because of the politics in their regions. Many started out as asylum seekers. Several others are here to try to "make it" in the entertainment and music scene. And then I believe 20% of Berlin is unemployed; we reflect that statistic. With all of their life situations, there are some who participate in the church, but I have no idea why, because they have made it known that they don't actually believe that God loves them. Others really believe that God has life planned out for them and their community. And yet still others believe that if they are only faithful enough, then God will be "faithful" in return; only, they can't say what they mean when they talk about the faithfulness of God.

In all of this, where am I? I have been called to learn from them, to listen to them, to preach to them, to love them. But I don't know what that means. In theory, it appears to be very easy, especially when one is strong in their beliefs and convictions. But to preach the gospel to a people that you so deeply love; to preach the gospel to a people that are so varied and diverse - what does that look like? For that matter, what does learning from them look like? One can't just take in all the information and leave it there. But where to put it and how to understand it is a task that I have no instructions for.

I suppose it is continuing to ask questions and not be put off by the quest. I suppose it is realizing that curiosity and ambiguity work together. I suppose it is understanding that the questions are more important than the answers and knowing that it is God's faith that provides the questions in the first place.

Skyscrapers and Spiderwebs

It's amazing what people will tell you. Something that I worried about before starting internship was being so dense that I would miss everything that was "happening" at the church. I really thought that I would be too blind to see all of the background politics that were flowing and too blind to see the veins of the spiderweb of relations there. But I was wrong. It's impossible to miss. These "spiderwebs" are more like skyscrapers with neon, flashing lights. Why? Because people just flat-out tell you what they are.

My supervisor believes that the church is the only place where people can work out their unresolved family issues. I thought that was an interesting comment, and am coming to agree with him. Not only am I finding out who (for better or worse) are personifying my own family members and issues to me, but I am learning who the "parents" of this congregation are - not by their actions, but by the various "children" literally telling me who they are. The "grandparents" are especially interesting, as they are the ones who used to run the show, but now find themselves in this peculiar time of life where they have been left behind by their children, are still in great need of belonging and having something to contribute yet feeling that they've already done their part, and finding themselves incapable of doing what they once did. The young ones aren't taken seriously. And the middle-aged ones are so lost as to how to balance their life and their faith that they continue to act and act and act, all the while never knowing what it is that they're doing. It's absolutely fascinating. And terrifying. All at the same time.

It's so crazy to me that the church manages to stay together. In just the past week, I have talked with people who (because of their life circumstances) need worship to be one way. Another person (with equally compelling reasons) needs worship to be almost the exact opposite. One person feels entirely left out of the community and is crying out; not for attention to be specifically placed on her, but for "others" to create a better sense of "community". Another needs to be left alone and can't understand this woman's need for a defined place. And yet somehow, all of these people come together and call ACB home. All of them arrive on a Sunday morning and expect to receive grace, forgiveness, and love - not only from the sermon and the service, but - from everyone else there. They all gather around the table together. Even though they sometimes come with deeply rooted fears, insecurities, distrusts, and angers.

I guess, in a way, skyscrapers are more manageable than spiderwebs, because they are easier to see and they generally have signs on them as to who built and occupies them. They just hurt more when you run into them.

Ecclesiastes

There are some things that just cannot be explained. Cannot be understood. No amount of curiosity, brilliance, or analytical skill will ever be a match for them. They are things that can only be walked out, lived out, or slept out, so to speak. One just has to keep walking, keep living, keep sleeping. It's not even a faith thing. There is no faith that "it will work out" or "be ok" or "it will come". Because faith has nothing to do with it. They just are. The most insecure and helpless of people physically and emotionally survive the "worst" of tragedies. The most independent collapse at the first hint shaky ground. The most generous and caring people are despised and the most cold-hearted, loved. Hopes, that are so deep that those who hold them don't even understand them, never come to pass even after years of struggle. Random ideas that occur happen with hardly a second thought. And yet, the opposite of these are true as well. We hear the stories of those who hope against hope and, after a lifetime of waiting, receive their joy. The people who go and do according to their own wishes and desires, and not those of anyone else, are happy and overcome seemingly impossible obstacles. And the aloof are left in their own misery.

What is the "rule"? There is none. Some hopes, some efforts, some actions may be more "rational" than others, but really, there is no knowing the outcome. Our best educated guesses turn out to be incorrect. Our actions that we do out of pure folly end up being the best moments of our lives. And only those who have thought their actions through survive. So in all of this, what is there to keep us from joining the Ecclesiastical writer and saying that "everything is meaningless, a chasing after the wind"?

Why I love Berlin

1. The traffic light men. Former East Germany had the now-famous "Ampelmänner", or "traffic light men". They're awesome. Hopefully a picture soon to come.

2. The beauracracy. I've already waited a whole morning to be registered with the Rathaus, and a day and a half with the transportation people. Up next is the "foreigner's office". From what I hear, that could take up to 3 days.

3. Speaking of the transportation people (the BVG)...my friend/colleague/native-German took me to get a student transportation pass. We arrived at the first place. They were still open, but wouldn't let us get in line because a co-worker was ill and they were going to shut down. We walked to the next station...which didn't have an office. Rode the S-Bahn to the next and they had closed 5 minutes before. The next day we go to a different office (after my getting lost on the way there), and found out that we needed yet another signature on an already signature-saturated paper, AND an "official" stamp. We go back to the office to get the pastor's signature - he wasn't there. So we sat and drank coffee until he got back. We went to yet a different station and it took all of 20 seconds to get my pass.

4. The phone companies. They send out a general phone bill once a month, yes? Well, if you want a detailed one, you must first pay €15. Now, if you request them on future bills, it's free. But to find out why certain charges are on a current bill, you must pay first.

5. Alles in Ordnung. We are having the front of the church painted. They started right before I got here, so I still haven't seen the altar area because it's completely covered. But, in order to have this done, not only the painters had to come for a meeting, but the electrician, the heating company, and some other people. The reason? The painters didn't want to paint by the electrical sockets. They actually moved "things" (?) around so the painters didn't have to worry about it.

6. Today I met the ambassador. From the United States to Germany. Now, one can say what they want about Bush or the administration or why various people have become ambassadors. BUT, one still can't deny that it's fun that I met him and various other diplomats from other countries.

So transition might not be the most fun time in life, but there are definitely some fun advantages to this particular one...

Andere Blog

A week and a half ago, I moved to Berlin. I even registered with the local Rathaus and was told by my friend (and congregant) that I am now truly a Berliner.

Because of my work there, I have started another blog that will be specifically for writing about my experiences in ministry there. I will continue with this blog as a place to write about life observations and thoughts. But if you are interested in keeping up with the thoughts of internship, the other blog is Warte für die Ampelmänner.

And by the way, Berlin has more than enough coffee shops to satisfy me. They're not open either early or late, which is unfortunate, but they are there nonetheless. So there will be many chances to meet seriously fascinating people. :)

home away from home

There’s something about coffee shops. I’m completely in love with them. I love the atmosphere; I love the coffee; I love the smell; I love the music; I love the people; I love the conversations; I love the distracted solitude. I love that I’m a true coffee drinker and always take it black. I came here initially tonight because I wanted to get to the internet since my apartment doesn’t allow that for the time being. But I’ve finished what I came to do and I just can’t leave. In one hour, I’ve watched a child - with a bike helmet on - search through all the cushions on the couches and chairs, seen a black man, a pregnant Asian woman, a Latina mother with two small children, heard comments about how (theoretically) this coffee shop only wants the children of their owners to patronize them and not the community, about a recent break-up with an ex of 4 years, and seen 3 people with books and computers, including myself. Bliss.

I love that I can come here and do whatever I want. I can sit here and study, write papers, write novellas of thoughts and comments and analyses to and about myself or others, blog, bring friends for good conversation…I love that it can be a place of extreme productivity or complete mind-numbingness or of deepening friendships all at the same time, and have all things be a form of complete relaxation and stress relief. In the same bag I put my new favorite novel, The Brothers Karamazov, (1) and my current theological reads, Judaism Despite Christianity (2) (which unfortunately just had to be returned to the library), and A More Radical Gospel (3). The three are drastically different, and pull me in wildly antithetical directions, but all end up at the same place at the same time.

I love the people I meet. Most recently there was a man who was from Miami, taught 6th graders in Boston, and then went to Chicago to study law and just took the bar exam. There was another who taught high school history and was a football coach, joined the military, and was in Alaska for a while with them. There are the graduate students who are working and say hello and smile intriguingly at me every time I walk in…yet never say another word. There was another who wrote textbooks for computer programming...and looked like my high school biology teacher. And there are those I see almost every time I walk in – yet I never know their name until virtually the last time I’m there.

I don’t know who came up with the idea of coffee shops, but if they were still alive, I would find them and kiss them. There is really nothing on this earth to compare with the utopia found here. Maybe the shops in Germany will be just as wonderful.

(1) Fyodor Dostoyevsky
(2) Letters between Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy and Franz Rosenzweig
(3) Gerhard O. Forde

Learning to Just "Stand There"

This past week has been something of a new experience for me. All I’ve done is sit in logistical sessions with 40 other people. But yet this week has made me feel completely incompetent, overly excited, humbled, in awe of others, like I don’t fit in, and like I’m part of something magnificent all at once. It seems like every 15 minutes there are more questions that could receive days of thought; my mind has been on overload. And many times it’s because something was said that convicted me to the core. But for a start:

“In our desire to help others, we often do more harm than good.” There was a story about a woman from Kenya who came up to a missionary and asked her to put in a word for her so that she might obtain a visa to the U.S. so that she could relocate. Even though she was pleading, the missionary said “no”. The missionary went to the church representative to tell him about the situation and found out that that woman had tried so often that the high commissioner in their country had her on his list. Had one more American asked about this lady, there would have been no chance for her to relocate. Ever. Through other circumstances that went through correct channels and with appropriate cultural norms, this woman is now living in the U.S. and doing well. The point was that we need to spend time in our countries and cultures and learn about them and their system and respect it in every way. People will ask for many things, believing that we can do whatever they ask. But if we try to act on our own and in whatever ways we deem worthy, without a clear understanding of how that culture operates and what has been done previously, we often do them more harm than good. What does that do to our understanding of Jesus? People so often label him as kind and compassionate, when there were many instances when it seems like he was anything but that. How does this concept fit into that?

“Don’t just do something; stand there.”

“God’s mission is to restore community with the world.”

“If you are in a losing streak, don’t play fantasy baseball. Go back to the basics.”

“Bread and wine in the hands (of Father Delatorio) is an instrument of revolution.”

“We can’t just continue to do things the way we have because we think it’s the same old…we have to understand the culture, which is under construction.” What if that were applied to those of us still working at home…

“Accompaniment”. The underlying belief in global mission in the ELCA is accompaniment. What does it mean to accompany people?

“It’s about humility…it’s like a novel. The story is not about us. It’s God’s story and the plot is God’s mission in the world. Neither the story nor the plot are about you. The principle characters are the people in the country where you serve. Your service is about being a minor character in a major novel. You are privileged, however, to contribute to the story and the story line is richer for your roll, small though it may be. Remember, you are not called to be great or important. You are called to be faithful. Embrace the humility.”

There have been so many other things that have been brought up that I can’t possibly expound upon. I could talk for days just from what I’ve been given in the past 4 days, and I have 2 ½ weeks to go yet. And theoretically we are just now getting into the conceptual stuff. However, as a closing thought:

“But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7

Failing Fools

I overheard someone complimenting another this morning with the words, “…that’s why he’s so good at what he does. He’s not afraid to make a fool of himself.” I find this interesting. It’s not a new concept; in fact, it’s one that I’ve heard exhorted many times. That in order to be really great at something, you have to be willing to not only fail, but fail with flair.

I am generally not someone who is willing to fail. It’s actually something that I’ve been anticipating coming up in one of my first conversations with my supervisor in a few weeks. “What are you hoping to get from this experience?” “The ability to fail.” It’s not so much that right now I never fail, but the fact that I try not to put my self in positions in which I believe I will fail. I never do anything that I don’t know I can already do to some degree of competency. This generally doesn’t work if one wants to get anywhere.

This, of course, begs the question – where are you trying to get, and why? Why should I need to “get” anywhere? It’s one thing to continue to change over the course of life because that’s just what humans do, whether they want to or not. Situations and experiences and conversations and people shape us. But it’s another to seek change. And for what benefit? The faith would teach us that we don’t become “better” and that God loves and saves us no matter where and who we are. So the point? None that I can see. And yet it is something that is generally upheld as a virtue: the desire for and the accomplishment of growth. The need to be “great”.

So is there really an impasse? Can we embrace failure for the sake of learning and not for the sake of greatness? Can we fail others for the sake of others and not simply to “further” ourselves? But at the same time never actually aim for failure? Is it possible to truly accept the change that happens in ourselves that comes as a result of life, yet not try to create “inner change” ourselves? What would that look like?

Adaptation out of Need

There's a song on the radio that fascinates me and I looked up the music video to it. It's "Older I Get" by Skillet. Part of it reads:

"The time between those cutting words built up our defenses. Never made no sense, it just made me hurt. Do you believe that time heals all wounds? It started getting better, but it's easy not to fight when I'm not with you. The older I get, will I get over it? It's been way too long for the times we missed, I didn't know then it would hurt like this. But I think the older I get maybe I'll get over it. It's been way too long for the times we missed; I can't believe it still hurts like this."

Now before you start thinking that I'm a silly 24-year-old who thinks she's getting old or who thinks she has too much pain to work through, hear me out as to why this is interesting to me. It was not so much the words in and of themselves, but the video they put to it. Almost the entire video showed the band having a good time with one another. They were in relationships with one another that obviously meant a great deal to them and were encouraging and fun. So this made me think about how life works. There are so many things that cause such a great deal of pain, and some of them we never move beyond. We adapt and we live with whatever scar was given, but people and events become a permanent part of our lives. And yet, with all of that pain, we continue to love. We continue to seek people out. We continue to laugh and sigh and be content and, yes, even happy. I find that amazing.

This is my prayer, that your love may overflow

Tonight I was at a sort of derivative of a worship service. It was a service to send off everyone going to Mexico next week for a mission trip. And a man was talking about how wonderful it is that we're giving so much to the people of Juarez. How we're giving a week of our lives to build homes and rework plumbing and electrical wiring and such. Yes, we are saints indeed. God must certainly be pleased with each and every one of us.

Isn't it our call as Christians to do this? Maybe not in Mexico, but anywhere? And maybe not to build houses, but to serve in whatever capacity that might be, whether that is psychological, physical, etc.? We should not be praised for this; we should be doing this as an automatic reaction to the faith that has been given us by God. We are to serve not for the sake of our glorification, and not for the sake of converting people, but because God is working through us for the sake of the world.

This brought me to thinking about this another way, though. If it is our duty, which is what I have been taught since birth, then it seems that there is automatically a weight that comes with it. I HAVE to do this. It becomes a burden, and not a joyful reaction. And that is how I'm feeling about this trip right now. I have absolutely no desire to leave for Juarez on Saturday. It's hard for me to care about the people we're going there to serve, or to care about the youth that I will be serving as a leader. It's hard for me to care about others in general right now. And I hate that, but don't know what to do about it. I have been pushed into a trip that I never wanted to participate in in the first place, and so everything that has gone into it has been full of resentment for me. I am spiteful towards those who love me instead of figuring out how to serve them best. What is that? Why is that? These things, again, should be something that I do because God has called me to it - not because I am an ungrateful child who has been forced or because my heart is so spectacular. How does one go from resentment of the burden to reveling in the joy of giving? Where is the line between human nature and the reality of sin...and that of the work of God in and through us?

Trust

So the topic of the day is trust. I think there are certain types of trust that I'm not very good at. Or rather, I KNOW that there are kinds of trust that I don't exhibit, and that I sometimes wish I did. Believing people when they tell me about themselves or about situations isn't difficult and, (most of the time) if someone tells me they'll do something, I'll rely on them to do it.

The problem is that I don’t trust humanity, or human nature. I don’t trust people to really love. I somehow think that there is the capacity to love - I just don’t believe that people actually do love. So when it comes to relationships, and trusting that the other person is not trying to hurt me, I have problems. I a) think that at the first sign of a problem, they will run, and b) that these “problems” are my fault. When hurtful comments are made, when someone retracts their previous words or actions, when someone appears to be avoiding me, etc., I unfairly put the fault of the cause upon myself, but the fault of the ensuing fight upon them. I get upset with them for not understanding me and what I’m trying to say, but the reality is that there’s just as much misunderstanding on my part as on theirs.

Afterwards, of course, I feel badly about my own words and actions, and then come to the conclusion that the other person is so upset with me that they simply won’t want to deal with me anymore. I don't trust their desire to be my friend. I don't trust them to want to work on a relationship. I don't trust them to be able to handle conflict. I don't trust their willingness to accept me as an imperfect human. And not only is that unfair to them, but it is unfair to me.

I'm trying to understand the underlying cause of this. Is it narcissism? Am I so caught up with myself that I can't see any life situation outside of myself that could possibly be affecting someone else? Is it a derivative of narcissism: an extremely low opinion of myself that drives me to assume that I am always the problem? Or is it simply that enough of my past relationships have failed that I come to the conclusion that I am doing something wrong? I don't know.

So now I’m stuck. My beliefs about humanity are necessary for my theology and for the rest of my life. And yet it hurts any and all relationships that I’m in. It seems that no matter if I put my trust in peoples’ good will, or if I put it in their inability to truly love, I end up hurt. And I realize that it’s not necessarily one or the other. But it seems that the former is preferable. How does one learn to trust in that way?

Rain

I love rain. It's just cleansing. It cries with you, it washes out hurt, it's peaceful. I need rain; there are few things that are as calming to me. And when things are going well, it just adds to the contentedness. But it never lasts long enough. Maybe I should move to Seattle.

Universal Malfunction

I am someone who needs to learn better organizational skills and learn to prepare ahead and just generally be a less chaotic person. I think. So when days like today happen, it frustrates me, because it throws all of that out the window. I think it was one of those times when there must be something in the universe causing all children to be completely unfocused. And I don't mean simply paying attention to whatever. I mean that there are very real, physical wanderings of the body. Arms kind of float around, feet trip over themselves in ways you have never seen before, and foreheads somehow find their ways into paint. They can't help it; it's not a choice. They simply malfunction on an entirely new level.

Now, I love my jr. high students. They are fun; they are chaotic; they are the personification of energy; they are fabulous. But today wasn't even high-energy for all of them. It was simply chaos. I was completely exhausted after 10 minutes. I don't know how to describe it. We made it through tie-dying shirts and painting a collage (kind of) - but even that was a feat. Hopefully they heard something about John the Baptist and baptism in there somewhere, but God only knows.

So when I was much more prepared today than yesterday, and yesterday went 14x better than today, it tells me that I should never work on anything. I should just run with whatever and not even try to prepare anything, because it won't matter. They will never know the difference. They have no clue whether I worked 40 hours on something or 40 minutes; it all comes out the same.

I don't know. I don't feel completely defeated yet; just exhausted. But if tomorrow is like today, making it through the week could be quite the challenge. Praise God for hope and strength. And praise God that I still love these malfunctioning creatures, draining though they are.

Demanding Imperfection

"A person doesn’t have to be perfect to be exactly what you need." – J.D. on Scrubs

I’ve been thinking about this lately. I have a friend who continues to point out to me that I am human. And this is a good thing. Because being human means that I will mess up, demand what cannot be demanded, and be incredibly hurtful to others. But it also means that I have the capacity to love, serve, and give to others.

The thing is that when I think about other people and their relationship to me, I don’t expect or want them to be perfect. If they were, that would just make me feel like I could never live up to them and it would do more damage than if they just screwed up once in a while. But yet I feel the need to be exactly what the other person “needs” all the time. I try so hard to figure out what role I need to play, that not only do I guess the wrong “role”, I also am inept at playing said role, and the whole thing ends up in a mess. I forget that the reason the person is talking to me or spending time with me in the first place is because they wanted to be with me, and not some character that I’ve chosen to play. And really, it’s through the arguments and the conflicts and the hurt that we know each other, as much as through the fun and laughter, yes? Learning boundaries and why what words mean what to the other, and why what actions have the effect they do is a fascinating process.

I know none of this is a new thought, and that thinking through this isn’t going to make me stop trying to compensate or stop being a demanding friend. It’s not going to make any of my relationships less frustrating. But it is nice to know that there are people who don’t expect me to be perfect around them and will still love me when I not only fall flat on my own face, but also bring them down with me.

Running Headlong into the Thud

So I love cartoons - always have. My parents still save the Sunday comics for me and send them up once in a while. And every so often there is one that just speaks to life more than others. I tried to upload one of them here, but it was too big, and being the not-computer-literate person that I am, I am going to have to describe it for you. So imagine Charlie Brown and Lucy standing in the field, Lucy with football in hand. And Lucy says to Charlie Brown...

"The whole trouble with you is you don't trust anyone!"
"Look...every year you pull the same trick on me...you say you're going to hold the ball while I kick it, but you never do! You always pull it away, and I land flat on my back! Every year you pull the same trick! EVERY SINGLE YEAR!"
"Listen, Charlie Brown, if you're going to get along in this world, you have to learn to be TRUSTING...anyone can trust someone who's trustworthy...I'm giving you a chance to learn to trust someone who is NOT trustworthy!"
"You're right..I've got to learn to be more trusting...you hold the ball, and I'll kick it..."

He runs with great speed.

"SHE DID IT AGAIN!" (As she pulls out the ball and he goes flying.)

WHAM! (thud.)

She looks down at him lying on the ground and says, "See you here again next year?"


THAT cartoon is my life. I chose to put that one on my board, not so much because of it's funniness, but as a reminder to me. I continuously get myself into the same situations. And I always fall flat on my back. And for some reason, just like Charlie Brown, I can't seem to force myself to do otherwise. I consciously "know" the outcome. I can explicitly tell you all of the repercussions. And yet, I can't do anything different, even if my life depended on it. And on top of that, just like the cartoon, both Charlie Brown and Lucy KNOW that this will happen again the following year. It's not even a question. Why is that? I think the process of running headlong into that elusive ball is just way too much fun.

So maybe by having this cartoon on my board, if I happen to look at it before entering once again onto the football field, I'll at least contemplate the headache from the fall. Maybe? Nope. Probably not.

By the way, I learned today that Tide pens get communion wine out of white confirmation gowns. Good to know, yes?

Sabotage

I remember sitting in Sunday school in jr. and sr. high and getting these sheets that had what I would now call “case studies” on them. A situation would be outlined, and being the good LC-MSers that we were, we would figure out the “right” and “moral” thing to do. And you know what? The answer was always incredibly easy. In fact, I despised these exercises, because I thought the people portrayed in them were just dumb. How could their issue be all that difficult? You tell the truth. You don’t cheat. You obey your parents, and you never gossip.

But then I started to actually be in relationships with people. And I am still learning, the hard way, that relating with humans is always messy and never simple. There is never any part of a relationship that is not violent. You are either fighting against one another, or in a free fall with them, or both. Even in good relationships it’s scary, and it leads to realities that are far from understandable. You think back to when you first met whoever it was, and try to remember how you had no clue what you were getting yourself into. You were starting one of the most wonderful, and yet at the same time, most crushing, relationships. And at every turn, if you took the time to stop and think, you’d understand that you had no idea what to say or do. From an outside, “objective” viewpoint, there might be a logical answer; maybe even a “right” answer to every situation. But there is never an easy one. And there is never a painless one. And from the inside, there is never even those logical or right ones.

So which is worse? To be in a relationship that creates dysfunction, or to be alone? Logical answer: to be dysfunctional. Reality: to be alone.

Which is worse? To hurt others (indirectly?) through your actions, or to be hurt yourself? Moral answer: to hurt others. Reality: to be hurt.

And what makes this even harder, is that these questions don’t even work, because it’s never as simple as an either/or. It is not this OR that. All options, and all combinations of options, are hurtful. So it ultimately comes down to what you can handle. And as humans, that’s not much. The ability to do the “right” thing is never there. People continue to abuse the absolute blessing of the relationships that they are in. We continue to grasp at FEELING loved as though it were salvation itself, even though it necessitates an overwhelmingly sharp pain. And we never are allowed to understand what truly being loved is like, mainly because all of us are (unconsciously?) overly efficient at stealing it away from one another in the hope of having it ourselves.

Large, Dopey Creatures on the Move

It’s perhaps an overly used movie for analogies, but The Matrix is pretty phenomenal as far as double (and triple and quadruple and…) meanings go. Looking beyond the grey metal pipes and cement floors and ceilings that have absolutely no color or beauty at all, the little world that they’ve managed to live in (the good guys) has always been the ideal world for me. For one, they can “learn” anything in an extremely short amount of time. Just sit in the chair, insert the plug, play the program, and WHAM! Instantly you know how to do anything. THAT is what I need. But another reason that I want to live in that kind of world, is because the people that live there know something that the rest of humanity doesn’t. They’ve figured the out system, and they’ve also figured out how to beat it. I think it’s from this constant desire to know everything and do everything right and move beyond current understanding that I love their world. I feel like I’m missing something in this life; that somehow I still have a shield over my face that is blocking enlightenment to the universe.

I realize that there is no such key; at least I haven’t heard of one that sounds remotely realistic. But somehow I have it subconsciously stored away that there is one, and I keep trying to find it. I want to understand theology and constitutional law and biology and chemistry. But really, I think I want to understand humanity more than anything else. I want to know why people work the way that they do; and not just society in general, but specific people. Why do you make the comments that you do? What has made what’s important to you, important? Why are you apparently an individual, and yet so obviously part of the larger race of humanity? This is what I want to know.

It seems that in order to understand something objectively, one has to be self-differentiated. But to do that all the time is impossible. We are always and continually connected with our past and with others. There is no escape; we continue to live in the “scars and ruts” of our lives, clinging to what we know, even though we also know that it only hurts us. Even if there was something called the matrix, we wouldn’t ever be able to figure it out, because not only do we not have red and blue pills to choose from; we’d be incapable of making them in the first place, because to make them requires previous knowledge, which we can’t have without first taking the pills. But fascinatingly enough, even though I hate being confined to anything, the idea of being perpetually stuck in curiosity and struggle isn’t such a bad thing. So I suppose we continue to tromp along, searching, and maybe hoping we’ll at least figure out the system of humanity someday. And in the process, being nothing but big, muddy trolls leaving craters in our circular path.

The Exhaustion of the Extremes

You know the magnetic emotion charts where you have 30 different faces of different emotions represented and there’s a blue “window” magnet that says “Today I Feel”, and you move it to encompass whatever particular mood you’re in? I’m not sure what I think about such charts.

I can see at least some good in these intriguing objects. Not only is it entertaining to try and pick out which mood I am in, but it really does seem that labeling things helps us in life. It’s amazing what simply saying that I’m smug at a particular moment can do. It puts my attitude and the situation at hand in some sort of perspective. But sometimes, A) I need to be irrational. I was talking with a friend of mine the other day and she made the very good and true point that sometimes, one (especially girls) just need to be irrational. And suffice it to say, “irrational” is not one of the moods listed. And B) My emotions generally do not conform with what is listed as an option.

This can mean one of a few things. 1) The chart is dysfunctional; 2) I’m an odd human being that doesn’t conform with this chart and therefore I just need to suck it up and deal; or 3) I can’t properly identify emotions. In these sorts of circumstances, I tend to opt for the first reason.

For instance, there is no “blah” face. Neither is there a “content” face. I can be hysterical, shocked, anxious, shy, or lovestruck, but I cannot be contemplative, blasé, or thoughtless. And being that my general state of being falls in and among those categories, I’m forced to lie to myself and say that I am enraged, ashamed, or disgusted.

Maybe that’s the problem with life and society today. We’re all held captive to the emotion charts. We are forced to live in the emotional extremes of life, which, let’s face it, is rather exhausting. So in the face of emotional trauma, what is there for one to do? Put the little window on “confused” and just accept your fate.

Hexagonally Frozen Water Vapor

So normally I attempt to write something at least partially witty and/or thoughtful (so ok, I haven't quite mastered that yet), but today was so exciting that it deserved its own kind of entry. Today, Luther Seminary shut down. Yes, at 3:00PM today, everything was cancelled THROUGH TOMORROW. It's my first snow day(s) in 5 years. It was fabulous. Glorious. Indescribably amazing. I got to play the piano, was part of a snowball fight, and I even helped to build this massive snowman outside our house...


And tomorrow? Tomorrow will be beyond description. It will be all Gospel and no Law.

Part of of the greatness of snow days is certainly the snow in and of itself. But what I'm really excited about is being able to sleep in, not having to do homework that was going to be crashing in on me tomorrow, and having a day where I can literally do nothing and feel good about it (the library's not even open, which honestly, is a very sad event). But it's the spontaneity of it, too. Inevitably, had I known that today and tomorrow were going to be days off, I would have filled them somehow. I would have put off working on something and scheduled to do that tomorrow. But now, I am actually free to do whatever. This sort of day is what all humans need, and I have been given it. Praises for the gift of nothingness.

The Strength of Colored Goo

There are times in life when the full comprehension of what one is embarking upon comes; and this comprehension shows us that the whole endeavor is ludicrous. There are many such moments in my life, including doing lunges across the church narthex with Jr. high girls, falling in a manhole with my laundry, and watching water literally spout forth from a cement wall in the basement of our summer housing. These are the times when everything becomes clear; when we receive the realization that the author of Ecclesiastes was right – everything is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

But nonetheless, it occurs to me that people actually enjoy chasing the wind. I don’t know if this is masochism of a sort, an attempt to mentally get their exercise in, or a true misconception of reality, but whatever the cause, billions of people do this every day. Now, the greatest example of wind chasing that I can see is the gathering of peoples to discuss “things”. Yes, that is correct; meetings are the bane of existence. I know that many people agree with me on this assertion, because I have heard it said more times than I care to count. And yet, I don’t know that I believe that they actually believe that declaration. Why? Because they continue to not only attend said meetings, they are actually responsible for scheduling them.

I was thinking about this today in class, as we had our 10 minute break in the middle and some ridiculous conversation ensued. It was amazing. You know in the movie The Absent-Minded Professor, where he creates flubber and it’s this substance that, once bounced, defies gravity and all laws of nature and actually gains speed as it continues to hit things? The absurd conversation this afternoon was, in all ways, a true manifestation of flubber. This is, I think (or at least I’m making it fit this context), what my friend meant when he said (in reaction to the conversation), “Never underestimate the power of people in large groups”. It really was as if they were spurring one another on, strengthening their influence on each other as they continued. You gather for a meeting, and what happens? Nothing. Why? Because once the motion of flubber has been initiated, it is very difficult indeed to stop. It is unending. So, my conclusion, for better or worse, is that large groups of people = lots of winds and lots of flubber.

Power

Why is it that we all think we have something to say? We don’t even know what it is that we are contributing, but we want to contribute it nonetheless – just in case. We read the diary of Anne Frank and realize that yes, it is possible to have our thoughts count for something. So we keep journals, diaries, blogs… It is said that writing things out helps one to process things internally - to see contradictions, to see connections, to enable us to understand. But if that is the only purpose, then why keep them? Why re-read those entries that were written in joy, pain, and confusion? To remember, we say. In order to not forget the past and so repeat it. But if we understand ourselves, as some would say, to be a result of our accumulated past, and if it is intrinsic to human nature to be addicted - to not be able to control our actions at all points in time - then wouldn’t our pasts be repeated anyway? Whether we remember or not? And then, if we do change – if that change is a true transformation of character – then that past wouldn’t be repeated anyway because our actions come out of our character, and our character wouldn’t allow it.

But despite the irrationalness of keeping journals, millions of people do. And not only in the privacy of those pink Hello Kitty ones with lock and key, where 9-year-old girls tell their diary whom they love and stick notes and bracelets between the pages. No, people put their thoughts and feelings online for everyone to read. This I do not understand.

But I think it is because we innately believe that we have something to offer, something to contribute. We don’t know what it is, and we’re too dense to figure it out ourselves, but we are stupidly hopeful beings, who believe that someday, someone somewhere will see our thoughts and ideas and consider them profound. We’ll become the hero of something that we never meant to promote in the first place, and in all reality are probably fundamentally against, but no matter. We will become heroes. Geniuses. Influentialists. Who knows? We might even accomplish an unread quote on the side of a milk carton.

Labyrinths

Life is not Webster's Dictionary. That's what one of my 8th graders told me yesterday afternoon. We met for coffee and were continuing a conversation about the meaning of beauty. Her thought was that beauty equaled appreciation; the problem then, was that she couldn't flip the definition around and/or come to a conclusion about what the opposite of beauty was.

I'm someone who really loves definitions, meanings, connotations - anything subtly deep and distinct. That's part of the great genius of literature; all of the words mean something in and of themselves, and then all of the patterns and compilations of these words mean something more. Allusions, foreshadows, double meanings, they are what make literature worth reading in the first place. So it seems natural to me to have this carry over into "real life". Finding the connections between people, situations, and thoughts, and then interposing them with what our immediate and obvious realizations are, is part of what makes life so fantastic.

But as conversation in these veins continue, acquiescence to the inevitable occurs. We find that we run into dead ends with these exercises and then don't know where to turn and can't find our way back to the beginning of the maze. And so it was yesterday, when we came to the ultimate realization that life could not be made up of definitions, with clear-cut answers for every scenario. And this conclusion, of course, led to talking about gardens balancing on pins (who knows), the Free Masons from National Treasure, and blue underwear.

Caught By Lucy's Sadism

Do you ever find yourself rejoicing over the absurd? For instance, people have been making fun of me for my excitement over finding a crossword solver on dictionary.com. Yes, my friends, salvation for all vocabulary-challenged (or rather, random-never-needed-to-know-before-or-after-this-knowledge-challenged) people has arrived. On this fabulous website, you can type in any and all information that you have. So I can write out the clue, how many letters it has, insert any letters I already know…some tell me this is cheating. I maintain that since it only gives me a list of possibilities, and that since I still have to use my mind to decide which one it is that actually fits, it is therefore more than legal.

But that wasn’t really what I was rejoicing over today. No, today it was because I was reminded that I – along with everyone else – am nothing. I was told again that I am a human being. Now, there are a lot of great things about being human, something to ponder on another day. But being human also means that I am an addict. So everything that I can (and sometimes do) beat myself up about? Yeah, it’s kinda there to stay. Because I’m a homo sapien. I am going to continually repeat what it is that I do, and what I do is not really that great. In fact, it’s awful most of the time. My theory is that everyone is addicted to at least one thing. I think things like drugs and alcohol come to mind for most people first, but those addictions can almost be better, if there is such a thing as a “better” addiction. At least those are external – something that is visibly obvious. What about the addictions to self-degrading thoughts, compliments, a certain person or people, sleep, verbally or physically abusive relationships, etc.? They can be, and are, equally harmful. Sometimes spiritual, emotional, and mental death is worse than physical death. But do we work on stopping it (or would we, if we could)? No. We just continue to think and do the same things over and over again. It’s like Charlie Brown and Lucy with the football. Every year, the same thing happens; every year, Charlie Brown thinks he knows better or is better, and he never is. So why the excitement? Because it shows what God has done and is doing. My filth is literally upon God; it is not mine. Christ, hanging on the cross, took it to his grave. And today is the day that I am shown, in all of its fullness, how shitty I am and that there is nothing I can do about it. God has done everything and continues to do everything. Ha. Nothing better than that.

So on this Ash Wednesday, on one of the 4 greatest days of the year, I am rejoicing in the absurd. I am thrilled by crossword solvers, the incomprehensible grace of God, and really, more than anything, bright green paper in the copying machine.

Fluidity

The unknown is incredibly glamorous. Something which is entirely idealized holds everything one could ever want; really, the splendor of it is almost incomprehensible. We can believe about it whatever it is that we want to believe. It fits perfectly into our world, because it contains no glitches: no frustrations, no doubt, no murkiness, no faults. Inconsistencies simply do not exist - not really, anyway. We might allow them in on purpose, just because we can - for who wouldn't admit that they are fun? But as something that can actually hamper our little world of the imagination, they do not exist. So we move about in this fascinating substance of our mind; we can live in any time in any place, doing any thing in any way that we choose. And we can do all of that at the same time. Time, space, color, matter: they mean everything, but nothing. Their entities and modes of existence are entirely fluid. Getting to write on parchment with a quill and ink by the light of a candle, but yet being able to enjoy a modern-day shower? Not a problem. Making whatever there is of a metaphysical truth coincide with the nature of God? Fully possible.

Most people dismiss all of this enjoyment out-of-hand; we all do this type of thinking, whether secretly or openly. But to believe in it? To make it work? Not many, if anyone, attempts that. This is simply daydreaming, an effort to escape from reality into worlds that make us more than we are. But how, then, do concepts, pictures, images, and ideas fit in and amongst reality? Are they indeed superficial? Is reality categorically so concrete as to never be malleated? Is it a solid playground of the mind on to which to bring running, stomping ideas? Rather, are concepts and imaginations the force of stability, and reality the one in motion? Or do we resign ourselves to an undefined chaos of existence? Whichever way it is, it seems that to dismiss the impossible is a mistake. One must be a realist to the core in order to get anywhere with the questions. But one must also create the reasons as to why reality is innately unsettled.

So here is to the glitches, frustrations, doubt, faults, and murkiness that arise out of clarity. Come, my friends, and revel in the splendor.