I sleep until at least 7:30 every morning, get up, drink coffee while reading or watching the Today Show. Some days I don't groom until the afternoon as I putz around the house and do homework. This morning I did a weekly blog read through, took out the trash and looked up to see the Olympic Mountains, which are covered in clouds today, but I still know they are out there and it made me smile.
I am embarking on my toughest trimester yet, and I feel less stressed than I have all year. Go figure. I just paid bills and realized that I have money in my account, which means my tax refund finally arrived...praise God! My skin is still sensitive from a sunburn as we had a week of sunshine! Also, I have not had my life story and style of relating prodded and picked at for almost two weeks now, and I gotta say...it has been wonderful.
I am just happy.
May 17, 2007
May 4, 2007
Remembrance
Today I attempted to review the ending of my second semester at Mars Hill Graduate School. What a mess.
I didn't even make it to my class notes; I didn't even make it through all of my personal journals. but what I have recalled so far is that it was a semester rich with heartache and confusion for me. There have been moments of such hurt and disappointment, and there have been moments that felt like the glory of the sun breaking through the clouds. I love dark, cloudy days, but anytime the sun rays break through here in Seattle, my head and neck seem to respond automatically - lifting up and toward the light and the warmth. There have been several days as I walked between skyscrapers on my way to school that I would shiver in the shadows of the buildings hoping for a red light to stop me at each intersection so I could enjoy a few brief moments of sunshine.
Isn't it interesting though that the most beautiful skyscapes are those that have light pouring through a gray sky, sunset colors painted on big white clouds, or the rainbows created through the raindrops. In the end of this semester, I came to realize some important things...things that give me hope that I can endure two more years of dark, cloudy days...or a lifetime of them.
It's not about me. The process, the transformation of a broken heart or a lost soul, especially my own...it's not about me. I don't think God is a crutch. I think religion is a crutch, a man made structure that we can lean on while the amazing, almighty God does his healing and transformative work on us. The crutch, perhaps I could call it community since I am not attending a church, doesn't ease the pain, instead it creates blisters and muscle pain in your arms. The new pain is helpful because it gives me something else to bitch and moan about while the slower healing work is going on inside.
I think eventually, I hope at least, that I will see how important that community is in relieving the pressure off my broken body. I can't end any of this, I can't fix it or make it go away, and I can't fix you either. All I can do is make your arms ache while your body heals, just as you do the same for me. It's a blessed and hopeful thing that in rubbing against each other we are in essence offering our bodies to God for healing.
I have also learned that wounds can be full of hope. I have gone back to the story of Jacob wrestling with God, and I find it fascinating that he was simply touched by the stranger and his hip was disjointed in a manner that marked him for the rest of his life. A wound of hope because it forever represented that night that Jacob saw the face of God, the night he was blessed with a new and redeemed name. I was talking to someone yesterday who told the story of being pierced by hope. Same idea...hope is full of suffering.
As I reread this it all sounds pretty self-centered. But I guess that has been the reality of the past year for me - a lot of looking at myself so I could hopefully get to a place loving others well. I sat down to reflect on the last four months so I could "close the book" and move on, but I am realizing that just can't happen. I have been marked, wounded with hope, and I think I may be limping for the rest of my life, and I am okay with that as long as it always draws me back to remembrance that I have seen God.
I didn't even make it to my class notes; I didn't even make it through all of my personal journals. but what I have recalled so far is that it was a semester rich with heartache and confusion for me. There have been moments of such hurt and disappointment, and there have been moments that felt like the glory of the sun breaking through the clouds. I love dark, cloudy days, but anytime the sun rays break through here in Seattle, my head and neck seem to respond automatically - lifting up and toward the light and the warmth. There have been several days as I walked between skyscrapers on my way to school that I would shiver in the shadows of the buildings hoping for a red light to stop me at each intersection so I could enjoy a few brief moments of sunshine.
Isn't it interesting though that the most beautiful skyscapes are those that have light pouring through a gray sky, sunset colors painted on big white clouds, or the rainbows created through the raindrops. In the end of this semester, I came to realize some important things...things that give me hope that I can endure two more years of dark, cloudy days...or a lifetime of them.
It's not about me. The process, the transformation of a broken heart or a lost soul, especially my own...it's not about me. I don't think God is a crutch. I think religion is a crutch, a man made structure that we can lean on while the amazing, almighty God does his healing and transformative work on us. The crutch, perhaps I could call it community since I am not attending a church, doesn't ease the pain, instead it creates blisters and muscle pain in your arms. The new pain is helpful because it gives me something else to bitch and moan about while the slower healing work is going on inside.
I think eventually, I hope at least, that I will see how important that community is in relieving the pressure off my broken body. I can't end any of this, I can't fix it or make it go away, and I can't fix you either. All I can do is make your arms ache while your body heals, just as you do the same for me. It's a blessed and hopeful thing that in rubbing against each other we are in essence offering our bodies to God for healing.
I have also learned that wounds can be full of hope. I have gone back to the story of Jacob wrestling with God, and I find it fascinating that he was simply touched by the stranger and his hip was disjointed in a manner that marked him for the rest of his life. A wound of hope because it forever represented that night that Jacob saw the face of God, the night he was blessed with a new and redeemed name. I was talking to someone yesterday who told the story of being pierced by hope. Same idea...hope is full of suffering.
As I reread this it all sounds pretty self-centered. But I guess that has been the reality of the past year for me - a lot of looking at myself so I could hopefully get to a place loving others well. I sat down to reflect on the last four months so I could "close the book" and move on, but I am realizing that just can't happen. I have been marked, wounded with hope, and I think I may be limping for the rest of my life, and I am okay with that as long as it always draws me back to remembrance that I have seen God.
Apr 12, 2007
Jericho
This semester has been a roller coaster. Here I am right back at sad. I am tired of story, of my story in particular. Sometimes I just wish a question could be a question and not some deep reflection of my past wounds. Sometimes I wish I could just be sad without it being about my fucked up family. Sometimes I wish I could make a decision without considering what patterns I am falling into.
As I feel things falling to pieces, this has been my theme song:
Jericho
Tara McLean, Passenger
March around
Jericho loved the music and fell
into your arms breathless
Heard a sound
Shut my eyes so tight
From the whisper of a storm coming
Oh, funny how
I spent this time waiting around
It's a lie
Everything you felt until now
Saw her dancing
The floor gave way
Opened its mouth
To say her name
Saw her falling
Cast away, cast away
She learned to fly one day
Oh, funny how
I spent this time on the ground
It's a lie
Everything you felt until now
Same place I've always been
I'm just lost on these roads again
Just as i got near the end
I keep falling in the holes you left in me
Oh, funny how
I spent this time lashing out
It's a lie
Everything you felt until now
As I feel things falling to pieces, this has been my theme song:
Jericho
Tara McLean, Passenger
March around
Jericho loved the music and fell
into your arms breathless
Heard a sound
Shut my eyes so tight
From the whisper of a storm coming
Oh, funny how
I spent this time waiting around
It's a lie
Everything you felt until now
Saw her dancing
The floor gave way
Opened its mouth
To say her name
Saw her falling
Cast away, cast away
She learned to fly one day
Oh, funny how
I spent this time on the ground
It's a lie
Everything you felt until now
Same place I've always been
I'm just lost on these roads again
Just as i got near the end
I keep falling in the holes you left in me
Oh, funny how
I spent this time lashing out
It's a lie
Everything you felt until now
Mar 31, 2007
Farewell March
This has been a month of full of newness and life for me. It began with a 10 minute eye surgery that corrected my vision forever. Stunning, amazing, unbelievable...how is that everyone doesn't get LASIK?!? That was actually the beginning of the most anxious filled three weeks of school yet, but this is a post about life. So.
Next up was a funeral for my twenties in order to create the space I needed to celebrate my 30th birthday! Yes, a funeral, and it was beautiful, holy, an amazing blessing to mourn the heartache of the past decade with my dear friends. My 30th birthday was such a great day. There were phone calls and lunch with a friend and getting highlights in my hair, and then a surprise dinner with friends. So special.
There were two births in the Spice Girl group. Nixon born the end of February and Simon born two weeks ago. Congratulations Tira and Holly! Can't wait to meet you new little boys!
And in true Mars Hill fashion, there was emotional turmoil and wrestling that has led to much life within me. I have been grappling with the idea of leaning into the person I was created to be. My automatic reaction is to shy away, to find comfort in the corner, but I have really been challenging myself to take up some space in life, and to be okay with it. The result, honestly, seems to lead to more heart ache right now, but it is the kind of heartache that is bittersweet; the kind that even as I am sitting in the shit of my life feels a little hopeful because I keep getting whiffs of blossoms. There is more life to come.
So, farewell March. You have been good to me, and I thank you for the blessings that I will forever treasure!
Next up was a funeral for my twenties in order to create the space I needed to celebrate my 30th birthday! Yes, a funeral, and it was beautiful, holy, an amazing blessing to mourn the heartache of the past decade with my dear friends. My 30th birthday was such a great day. There were phone calls and lunch with a friend and getting highlights in my hair, and then a surprise dinner with friends. So special.
There were two births in the Spice Girl group. Nixon born the end of February and Simon born two weeks ago. Congratulations Tira and Holly! Can't wait to meet you new little boys!
And in true Mars Hill fashion, there was emotional turmoil and wrestling that has led to much life within me. I have been grappling with the idea of leaning into the person I was created to be. My automatic reaction is to shy away, to find comfort in the corner, but I have really been challenging myself to take up some space in life, and to be okay with it. The result, honestly, seems to lead to more heart ache right now, but it is the kind of heartache that is bittersweet; the kind that even as I am sitting in the shit of my life feels a little hopeful because I keep getting whiffs of blossoms. There is more life to come.
So, farewell March. You have been good to me, and I thank you for the blessings that I will forever treasure!
Feb 26, 2007
Breaking Things
I wrote a paper last week where I compared the horse whisperer/trainer character (Tom) in the movie Seabiscuit with the Holy Spirit. I wrote about how Tom had to "tame" Seabiscuit's angry and bitter behavior in order to give the horse the freedom to be a racehorse. This has been sticking with me.
I keep talking about my sadness. It might be getting obnoxious. But it's just so present. In terms of my own experience right now, I keep getting the image of my body being full of bones that have been broken and healed improperly. I just kept trying to get past the pain by ignoring it, and now those bones are being broken so they can be set correctly, and healed correctly. This is my process of being tamed, and my light at the end of the sadness is the hope of a new sense of freedom.
Damn, every week, more broken bones. Everything hurts. Some times I start to get scared that I am getting used to this state of being, other times I feel like the pain is too much to bear. I question whether or not I am forcing myself to stay in a hard place when I should just be getting over it and moving on with life. And then I wonder if that attitude is exactly what led to so many broken bones healing so poorly.
So tomorrow begins my weekly process of being broken all over again. But I am finding that the more I stop fighting this process, the more I feel cared for in the midst of this process.
I keep talking about my sadness. It might be getting obnoxious. But it's just so present. In terms of my own experience right now, I keep getting the image of my body being full of bones that have been broken and healed improperly. I just kept trying to get past the pain by ignoring it, and now those bones are being broken so they can be set correctly, and healed correctly. This is my process of being tamed, and my light at the end of the sadness is the hope of a new sense of freedom.
Damn, every week, more broken bones. Everything hurts. Some times I start to get scared that I am getting used to this state of being, other times I feel like the pain is too much to bear. I question whether or not I am forcing myself to stay in a hard place when I should just be getting over it and moving on with life. And then I wonder if that attitude is exactly what led to so many broken bones healing so poorly.
So tomorrow begins my weekly process of being broken all over again. But I am finding that the more I stop fighting this process, the more I feel cared for in the midst of this process.
Feb 24, 2007
Wrestling
In the midst of sadness, there has been major wrestling. I wrote a paper last semester describing my personal hermeneutic as one of wrestling with God, Scriptures, Truth, etc. I think it is a good metaphor for me. I know I don't struggle with much grace. My most unkempt moments are those of struggle.
I am wrestling with diversity, multi-culturalism, reconciliation. My month at mhgs has been one filled with talk of oppression in various forms, from the somewhat trivial (adult popularity contests) to the severe (my acts of oppression on a friend), and there have been some in-betweens as well. I suppose it is a sliding scale measuring depth of impact, and in the end I can only be accountable for how I oppress others. But how?
There have been many conversations, some very heartfelt apologies and very real tears on behalf of others. There is the helplessness of simply being born into a situation that is oppressive to others (white, middle class, suburbia). There is the empowerment of reconsidering my belief systems and embracing new ideas. There is the hope of breaking through the awkwardness and fear to enter into what diversity, culture and reconciliation even mean to begin with. There is the systems level dreaming...what if the western Christian church stopped talking for the next 2000 years and just started listening to church leaders in other cultures (as asked by my inspiring prof Dwight Friesen)?
I can only pray that this is the start of more reflection and ultimately action. I can feel the wrestling leaving my body and mind...I know it could so easily slip away into "a difficult conversation I had that one time years ago." I don't want that. Too much is at stake for my friends, the church, and my own transformation into the likeness of Jesus.
I am wrestling with diversity, multi-culturalism, reconciliation. My month at mhgs has been one filled with talk of oppression in various forms, from the somewhat trivial (adult popularity contests) to the severe (my acts of oppression on a friend), and there have been some in-betweens as well. I suppose it is a sliding scale measuring depth of impact, and in the end I can only be accountable for how I oppress others. But how?
There have been many conversations, some very heartfelt apologies and very real tears on behalf of others. There is the helplessness of simply being born into a situation that is oppressive to others (white, middle class, suburbia). There is the empowerment of reconsidering my belief systems and embracing new ideas. There is the hope of breaking through the awkwardness and fear to enter into what diversity, culture and reconciliation even mean to begin with. There is the systems level dreaming...what if the western Christian church stopped talking for the next 2000 years and just started listening to church leaders in other cultures (as asked by my inspiring prof Dwight Friesen)?
I can only pray that this is the start of more reflection and ultimately action. I can feel the wrestling leaving my body and mind...I know it could so easily slip away into "a difficult conversation I had that one time years ago." I don't want that. Too much is at stake for my friends, the church, and my own transformation into the likeness of Jesus.
Feb 23, 2007
For Comfort, Mourn
The last two weeks have been a time of mourning for me. The sadness, frustration and hopelessness have felt constantly present, which has led to a lot of tears and even more time in bed. Bed has become my one place of comfort. I just feel in constant need of being held, and my bed is the only thing available that envelops me.
For a class this week I read a 4th centurty exegete's sermon on the Beatitudes. He had a simple phrase that brought a little hope in the midst of this uncomfortable sadness: if you seek comfort, then mourn. It certainly twists the order of the words of Jesus, but in a way that opens comfort up to all people if they choose to mourn. And some days, I think there is so much for every person to mourn, even if it is just on behalf of another.
This little sentence has also caught me in all my efforts to create comfort in order to avoid mourning. I have worked so hard throughout my life to avoid pain and suffering, as if the bad feelings are what needed to be comforted rather than the actual loss that caused the bad feelings to begin with.
So here I sit in the midst of the sadness, laying in bed with wadded tissues all around me, just hoping for comfort.
Feb 5, 2007
Time
I pick up Time magazine to read about the presidential race. I am flipping through the pages and came across the factoid that a measles vaccine costs only $0.16 and most Africans can't afford it, but you can also buy a bottle of beer for dogs for $2.14. I flip a couple more pages to the election coverage and find out that it costs $100 million to run for president and there are currently 20+ candidates, which means there is about $2 billion dollars potentially in play to elect our president.
I admit that the poverty statistics in Africa have never really moved me, but for some reason reading all this in a matter of 5 minutes just really pissed me off. If I did my math right, if we bypassed the mudslinging tv ads we could vaccinate over 12 billion people, which I know is ridiculous because the world population is only 6 billion. And beer for dogs? really?
I admit that the poverty statistics in Africa have never really moved me, but for some reason reading all this in a matter of 5 minutes just really pissed me off. If I did my math right, if we bypassed the mudslinging tv ads we could vaccinate over 12 billion people, which I know is ridiculous because the world population is only 6 billion. And beer for dogs? really?
Jan 30, 2007
Limbo
As usual, I find myself at a natural ending (the end of January) realizing that I have not paid much attention to this blog. And so, I have so much to share, and yet so little since memory has already slipped away. I am fighting those guilty feelings, and then shaking my head in disbelief that I feel guilty about a blog.
This new season has become more pronounced. School is in full swing. I am in a bunch of classes and activities that are surrounding me with new people, so I feel like a freshman all over again. My freshman year of high school I switched high schools. I went from my community, small and Christian, to a public school. Everyone had their cliques and groups and roles, and I was the newbie. It was so lonely. There is that inherent awkwardness of not knowing where to butt myself in and where to hold back in meeting new people. I am in that place all over again.
My job has finally come to an end, which was more sad than upsetting. I love my boss. I doubt I will ever work for anyone else like him. He has been a huge support and a huge cheerleader for me going to grad school. He was also my last real tie to Phoenix outside of friends and mom that are there. All the things that physically connected to me to Phoenix are gone. Any illusions that I wasn't actually a grad student are also gone as I am finally facing student loan checks and FAFSA filings.
And then there is the constant call to enter my story more deeply. To experience the grief, sadness and joys that are there. At this point gratitude seems far off, and grief and sadness are just too close and disrupting to enter. So I feel in limbo, in all of these areas, there is just that funky feeling of not knowing what's next, where to turn, where to look, where to enter. Limbo.
This new season has become more pronounced. School is in full swing. I am in a bunch of classes and activities that are surrounding me with new people, so I feel like a freshman all over again. My freshman year of high school I switched high schools. I went from my community, small and Christian, to a public school. Everyone had their cliques and groups and roles, and I was the newbie. It was so lonely. There is that inherent awkwardness of not knowing where to butt myself in and where to hold back in meeting new people. I am in that place all over again.
My job has finally come to an end, which was more sad than upsetting. I love my boss. I doubt I will ever work for anyone else like him. He has been a huge support and a huge cheerleader for me going to grad school. He was also my last real tie to Phoenix outside of friends and mom that are there. All the things that physically connected to me to Phoenix are gone. Any illusions that I wasn't actually a grad student are also gone as I am finally facing student loan checks and FAFSA filings.
And then there is the constant call to enter my story more deeply. To experience the grief, sadness and joys that are there. At this point gratitude seems far off, and grief and sadness are just too close and disrupting to enter. So I feel in limbo, in all of these areas, there is just that funky feeling of not knowing what's next, where to turn, where to look, where to enter. Limbo.
Jan 12, 2007
Seasons
This week was the beginning of a new season, another trimester at mhgs. I spent 12 hours of lecture time with Dan Allender as he presented his teachings on marriage and family. It was fascinating, disturbing, uncomfortable. He says that the goal of marriage is to call forth the glory of your spouse, so there was a lot of talk about glory. It is weight and light, it is substance and essence, it is God and God reflected in us.
It started snowing on Wednesday. I am captured by the glory of snow, just like I was captured by the glory of the fall colors. It was midnight and I was restless to go to sleep because I knew the snow was pouring down right out my window and I didn't want to miss it. I got up and sat in a chair facing the window and just watched the snow fall for an hour. It is amazing, glorious. The next morning I woke up to this outside my window:
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As much as I love these changes in season I don't handle them very well. This snow season has been costly for me, literally. As I watched the snow fall I kept wondering what it was about the snow that was so intriguing to me. I finally decided that it was silent and yet leaves a beautiful mess the next day that can be so destructive. Rain is violent, and yet it leaves clearer skies and produces greener spaces. Snow causes me, and this whole city, to slow down, or even shut down. It makes us wait, but the view is beautiful.
I am compelled to consider which season I am transitioning into right now, or will it even be that different than the last? In retrospect, I entered last trimester with complete anxiety and fear. As I look to the year ahead, I think this season will be more about some kind of active rest, letting go and yet pushing forward, pulling people closer even as I gain more clarity as to who I am called to be.
Jan 1, 2007
New Year's Musings
Amazingly, I have not put a lot of thought into the new year. No resolutions, no stated hopes, no real regrets. But, for posterity sake I feel I must post some musings. Here is where I am at on the first day of 2007:I am quickly approaching my 12th day of sickness. Perhaps the reason for so few deep thoughts lately. I am so sick of being sick! *cough*
2007 is the year I will turn 30. It is scary and exciting. It feels like such a mile marker, and yet completely over-hyped. I never had a crystal clear picture or plan of where I would be at 30, but I am absolutely sure none of my daydreams included grad school, seattle or single!
I read three books about the Celts over Christmas and came to realize that everything I learned last semester (and hence, perhaps the foundational theology for this school?) comes from 4th century Celtic Christianity...as in St. Patrick. All of humanity is made in God's image, and therefore at our core, true self we are good. Sin cannot take away from the inherent goodness within us. Jesus is the savior of our true selves, through him we can live out a taste of the fulfillment we will experience in heaven. Why do we cling to all that is bad within us? Why was this message considered heresy in favor of the emphasis on our depravity?
I can't stop playing Sufjan Stevens music. I can't pick a favorite song or album. It's all good.
My hair is finally long enough to twist up, which makes me wonder why I am trying to grow it out in the first place if what I am excited about is being able to pull it up?
*cough* *cough*
My old worship pastor stayed at my house over Christmas, and I got to have dinner with him and his wife before they left. I felt my deep judgement of the Church and Christianity spewing out to them, which has made me deeply desire for a time when I can get past this place of judging.
I am longing for some good reality TV marathons today, but my only choices are Beauty and the Geek and the Biggest Loser. I sooo need to get a job in TV and set these networks straight!
I actually made it to midnight last night at a 007 new year's party. I was quite proud of myself because I felt like going to bed around 8 p.m. But that would make me just like my mother, and despite turning 30 this year, I am still too young for that! =) *laugh at myself* *cough* *cough* *smile* I left at 12:05 a.m. to find a fire cracker had hit my windshield and left several circular cracks. The kicker...I just got my car back after a month in the shop following my snow slide accident (see post below)! I refuse to take this as an omen!
Happy New Year!
Dec 8, 2006
Contextuality
Last night in theology class I was exposed to a new understanding that is kind of rocking my world...or at least my understanding of the bible.
The Jews of Jesus' time did not live in a constant expectancy for the Messiah. It was something they would yearn for during times of oppression, such as when they were ruled over by the Romans, which is the context that Jesus arrived into. And even the concept of a Messiah was not one of a soul savior, but rather a king or ruler that would save them from subjugation by the Romans. This brings a whole new light on Jesus' question to Peter...who do the people say I am? and Who do you say I am? It makes sense that Jesus kept telling people he encountered to not tell others about him as noone knew what the Messiah was really about...ushering in the kingdom of God on earth, rather than a finite kingdom of man. All of this I had a sense of before, but the idea that the Jewish people were not waiting expectantly for a Messiah (perhaps in the way Christians are waiting for the return of Jesus with consistent expectancy) really makes me see Jesus and the Bible in a whole new light.
There's more. With regard to the New Testament, I knew that Paul's epistles were letters to church's that he helped plant. But what I had never really contemplated that these letters were the work of a missionary taking the gospel truths and putting them into a new culture, with new customs and understandings. So, the Bible we read, and accept as truth for us today, is actually a recontextualized presentation of the gospel. This has such huge implications for me...
This idea reminds me of the book Peace Child. It is about missionaries in Papau New Guinea that work to bring the gospel to a tribe that offer their children as sacrifices in order to make peace with another. The missionaries used this practice as a way of describing what God did by sending his Son to die to make peace with all of humanity. They contextualized the gospel to make it understandable to the tribe. But I wonder...what if we as first world, wealthy western people were told to accept this tribal understanding as the gospel and apply it to our lives. What would be the implications for us trying to understand and practice the gospel within the context of sacrificial killings of children, community/tribal living, etc.?
Would accepting their context mean that we would need to begin practicing sacrifices to understand the gospel? Would it mean that we need to start living in tribes so we can practice the gospel in the same way? Would it even make sense for us to engage their gospel since it is two very different cultures?
As most ideas, this one leads me to the idea of women in the church. Are we imposing a first century, Greco-Roman concept of women's roles to our 21st century context in order to stay faithful to the bible's teachings? If Paul had written planted churches in a society where women had equal status and education as men, would he have written the same admonitions of women? If Jesus entered our current world how would he have approached us? I can't imagine that he would enter with parables on the church steps and sermons on mountain tops.
In some ways all of this gives me a new excitement and hope about the biblical text. It holds so much more opportunity and freedom to me to explore the themes and ideas rather than the actual facts and propositions. In other ways it fills me with doubt and skepticism about the usefulness of the bible to me today. As we move further away from that context of 2,000 years ago, should the bible become less significant? It seems like in our stretching to make the bible relevant for today so much evil and harm is done toward others. What would the church look like if sought first the kingdom of God rather than the biblical text?
The Jews of Jesus' time did not live in a constant expectancy for the Messiah. It was something they would yearn for during times of oppression, such as when they were ruled over by the Romans, which is the context that Jesus arrived into. And even the concept of a Messiah was not one of a soul savior, but rather a king or ruler that would save them from subjugation by the Romans. This brings a whole new light on Jesus' question to Peter...who do the people say I am? and Who do you say I am? It makes sense that Jesus kept telling people he encountered to not tell others about him as noone knew what the Messiah was really about...ushering in the kingdom of God on earth, rather than a finite kingdom of man. All of this I had a sense of before, but the idea that the Jewish people were not waiting expectantly for a Messiah (perhaps in the way Christians are waiting for the return of Jesus with consistent expectancy) really makes me see Jesus and the Bible in a whole new light.
There's more. With regard to the New Testament, I knew that Paul's epistles were letters to church's that he helped plant. But what I had never really contemplated that these letters were the work of a missionary taking the gospel truths and putting them into a new culture, with new customs and understandings. So, the Bible we read, and accept as truth for us today, is actually a recontextualized presentation of the gospel. This has such huge implications for me...
This idea reminds me of the book Peace Child. It is about missionaries in Papau New Guinea that work to bring the gospel to a tribe that offer their children as sacrifices in order to make peace with another. The missionaries used this practice as a way of describing what God did by sending his Son to die to make peace with all of humanity. They contextualized the gospel to make it understandable to the tribe. But I wonder...what if we as first world, wealthy western people were told to accept this tribal understanding as the gospel and apply it to our lives. What would be the implications for us trying to understand and practice the gospel within the context of sacrificial killings of children, community/tribal living, etc.?
Would accepting their context mean that we would need to begin practicing sacrifices to understand the gospel? Would it mean that we need to start living in tribes so we can practice the gospel in the same way? Would it even make sense for us to engage their gospel since it is two very different cultures?
As most ideas, this one leads me to the idea of women in the church. Are we imposing a first century, Greco-Roman concept of women's roles to our 21st century context in order to stay faithful to the bible's teachings? If Paul had written planted churches in a society where women had equal status and education as men, would he have written the same admonitions of women? If Jesus entered our current world how would he have approached us? I can't imagine that he would enter with parables on the church steps and sermons on mountain tops.
In some ways all of this gives me a new excitement and hope about the biblical text. It holds so much more opportunity and freedom to me to explore the themes and ideas rather than the actual facts and propositions. In other ways it fills me with doubt and skepticism about the usefulness of the bible to me today. As we move further away from that context of 2,000 years ago, should the bible become less significant? It seems like in our stretching to make the bible relevant for today so much evil and harm is done toward others. What would the church look like if sought first the kingdom of God rather than the biblical text?
Dec 1, 2006
Snow Days
This has been my week...
Monday:
Arrive home from Thanksgiving with the family.
Monday:
Arrive home from Thanksgiving with the family.
Yeah! There is snow on the ground, on my car, on the trees! We go to class and come out to a blizzard that makes the commute home a 3.5 hour tour!
Tuesday:
Snow Day! No Classes! Friends spent the night on Monday, so we have a snow day morning together playing SkipBo!
Wednesday:
Another snow fall is about to blow in, so class is cancelled again! Yeah! Friends go sledding in laundry baskets down our neighborhood hills. Oh, how I wish I knew how to upload movies so you could see them spinning down an icy hill...good times!
Wednesday Night:
Run an errand, drive up a hill that ends up being covered in ice. I get stuck, car comes around the corner, slides down the ice and hits me, and speeds off. Good news: the crash gets me unstuck, and the other cars license plate fell off! Bad news: my car is undriveable. I leave my car and proceed home to another snow day party where I enjoy several rum & cokes.
Thursday:
Snow Days Suck! Picture of the aftermath. And to top it off, that license plate isn't saving me from paying a $1000 deductable as my insurance company won't investigate the hit and runner until they have a financial interest, and the police won't investigate until maybe next week. Snow days suck!
Friday:
Intense anger and stress result in skipping class and going to bed early last night. So here I sit, with the snow almost completely melted outside, and a rental car waiting to be picked up. So much for the joy of snow days.
Nov 17, 2006
Giving Up
It has been a long week. In one class this week we were called into a different way of disagreeing, into a different way of listening, and into silence. It was the most disrupting peace I have experienced in a long time.
I left with this overwhelming desire to just give up...in a good way. I battle so much within myself, and sitting in silence made me desire real rest. Since that moment of release, this has been my theme song...Slow Motion by David Gray.
I left with this overwhelming desire to just give up...in a good way. I battle so much within myself, and sitting in silence made me desire real rest. Since that moment of release, this has been my theme song...Slow Motion by David Gray.
While I was watching, you did a slow dissolve
While I was watching, you did a slow dissolve
While I was watching, you did a slow dissolve
Did I imagine, or do the walls have eyes
Did I imagine they held us hypnotized
Did I imagine, or do the walls have eyes
Life in slow motion, somehow it don't feel real
Life in slow motion, somehow it don't feel real
Life in slow motion, somehow it don't feel real
Snowflakes are falling, I'll catch them in my hands
Snowflakes are falling, I'll catch them in my hands
Snowflakes are falling, now your my longlost friend
Nov 12, 2006
Getting Messy
It occurred to me this weekend that I treat this blog like I do a friend or conversation in general. I feel like I have to have everything together in order to be presentable and acceptable. Granted, I owe no loyalties to this blog, but it is much safer to analyze a relationship to an inanimate object than to an actual human being. It is less messy.
My life feels so messy right now. My living spaces are a literal mess - piles of clothes and paperwork everywhere. My finances are a total disaster - rent past due and what I could pay was short with no money coming in for a few more days. My emotions are always on edge as I feel I am being called to live in the messy places of my story...all the time. I question everything about myself as I exist in this hyper-sensitive state of understanding my story, my transference, my countertransference, and my response-ability to it all. It is hard not to feel constantly analyzed by new friends that are in this program, and it is hard not to "practice" on them what I am learning - thankfully we are all aware that we are doing this to each other to some degree.
Being in this messy place is incredibly uncomfortable to me. I think people have always viewed me as a very mature person, which is probably true on many levels, but this weekend I found myself searching Amazon for books on parenting, reparenting and inner child work. I may be mature on the outside, but I feel so immature when it comes to seemingly simple adult competencies - like cleaning my room, managing my money, and being able to express basic needs.
When I moved to Seattle my landlord told me that it would start raining in November. November 2nd it started raining and I think we have seen sunshine twice since then. So, when my mom and brother called me last week to ask if my house was flooded, and I started getting little notes in emails about staying dry and not forgetting my umbrella, I just thought they were commenting on the fact that it rains a lot in Seattle. But no, come to find out it is flooding all over western Washington, and the amount of rain we have had is very abnormal. This feels like a metaphor....
I feel like there is this way that I am. I can't describe it because it has always just been that way. I have assumed it was good and right because it was affirmed and praised throughout my life. And now I am getting little messages inferring that something is wrong, something is abnormal. And come to find out, I am a mess, I am flooding and I didn't even know it. Typing that sounds arrogant...I don't mean that I thought I was perfect, but I guess I thought I was okay, but I just needed some emotional healing from past wounds. But now it is being revealed that that healing will never come unless I allow myself to be not okay, I have to allow myself to get messy.
This is the part where I always have to ask..."why in the world did I sign up for this!?!"
My life feels so messy right now. My living spaces are a literal mess - piles of clothes and paperwork everywhere. My finances are a total disaster - rent past due and what I could pay was short with no money coming in for a few more days. My emotions are always on edge as I feel I am being called to live in the messy places of my story...all the time. I question everything about myself as I exist in this hyper-sensitive state of understanding my story, my transference, my countertransference, and my response-ability to it all. It is hard not to feel constantly analyzed by new friends that are in this program, and it is hard not to "practice" on them what I am learning - thankfully we are all aware that we are doing this to each other to some degree.
Being in this messy place is incredibly uncomfortable to me. I think people have always viewed me as a very mature person, which is probably true on many levels, but this weekend I found myself searching Amazon for books on parenting, reparenting and inner child work. I may be mature on the outside, but I feel so immature when it comes to seemingly simple adult competencies - like cleaning my room, managing my money, and being able to express basic needs.
When I moved to Seattle my landlord told me that it would start raining in November. November 2nd it started raining and I think we have seen sunshine twice since then. So, when my mom and brother called me last week to ask if my house was flooded, and I started getting little notes in emails about staying dry and not forgetting my umbrella, I just thought they were commenting on the fact that it rains a lot in Seattle. But no, come to find out it is flooding all over western Washington, and the amount of rain we have had is very abnormal. This feels like a metaphor....
I feel like there is this way that I am. I can't describe it because it has always just been that way. I have assumed it was good and right because it was affirmed and praised throughout my life. And now I am getting little messages inferring that something is wrong, something is abnormal. And come to find out, I am a mess, I am flooding and I didn't even know it. Typing that sounds arrogant...I don't mean that I thought I was perfect, but I guess I thought I was okay, but I just needed some emotional healing from past wounds. But now it is being revealed that that healing will never come unless I allow myself to be not okay, I have to allow myself to get messy.
This is the part where I always have to ask..."why in the world did I sign up for this!?!"
Nov 8, 2006
Advent of Restoration
Sometimes I surprise myself as to how passionate I get about the issue of women's leadership and equality within our culture. I don't have a dramatic story of being burned by male leadership, I thankfully have never been abused by a man, I don't have some qualifier to provide a reasonable explanation for my passion about this issue. But even as I write those words I think how sad it is that I feel I must have a qualifing story in order to substantiate my sense of being "less than" as a woman.
Anyway, this was stirred up within me as I was doing some research for a paper. I came across this quote that I found affirming and lovely and sad all in one. There is still so much about male-female relationships that is yet to be restored:
"Perhaps it is no wonder that the women were first at the Cradle and last at the Cross. They had never known a man like this Man - there never has been such another. A prophet and teacher who never nagged at them, never flattered or coaxed or patronised: who never made arch jokes about them...; who rebuked without querulousness and praised without condescension; who took their questions and arguments seriously; who never mapped out their sphere for them, never urged them to be feminine or jeered at them for being female; who had no axe to grind and no uneasy male dignity to defend; who took them as he found them and was completely unself-conscious. There is no act, no sermon, no parable in the whole Gospel that borrows its pungency from female perversity; nobody could possibly guess from the words and deeds of Jesus that there was anything "funny" about woman's nature." (Dorothy Sayers, as quoted in the book "Freeing Theology")
Reading this quote makes me realize all the little qualifiers I do have in my life, but more importantly it turns my focus to who Jesus is. I had a professor declare to me last week (in question format) that I must not like Jesus a whole lot. I didn't really like that statement, but in the context of our conversation it made sense. But reading this passage today made me really love Jesus. It made me so excited for the season of Advent that is upon us...I just can't wait to celebrate God's entry into this world that is the answer to all the restoration we need.
Anyway, this was stirred up within me as I was doing some research for a paper. I came across this quote that I found affirming and lovely and sad all in one. There is still so much about male-female relationships that is yet to be restored:
"Perhaps it is no wonder that the women were first at the Cradle and last at the Cross. They had never known a man like this Man - there never has been such another. A prophet and teacher who never nagged at them, never flattered or coaxed or patronised: who never made arch jokes about them...; who rebuked without querulousness and praised without condescension; who took their questions and arguments seriously; who never mapped out their sphere for them, never urged them to be feminine or jeered at them for being female; who had no axe to grind and no uneasy male dignity to defend; who took them as he found them and was completely unself-conscious. There is no act, no sermon, no parable in the whole Gospel that borrows its pungency from female perversity; nobody could possibly guess from the words and deeds of Jesus that there was anything "funny" about woman's nature." (Dorothy Sayers, as quoted in the book "Freeing Theology")
Reading this quote makes me realize all the little qualifiers I do have in my life, but more importantly it turns my focus to who Jesus is. I had a professor declare to me last week (in question format) that I must not like Jesus a whole lot. I didn't really like that statement, but in the context of our conversation it made sense. But reading this passage today made me really love Jesus. It made me so excited for the season of Advent that is upon us...I just can't wait to celebrate God's entry into this world that is the answer to all the restoration we need.
Oct 19, 2006
Oct 17, 2006
Fall Days
Today was a truly lovely fall day. This will be my first fall season with trees that actually change color since my couple of fall seasons at Biola U many years ago. I turned in a paper yesterday, and I have two due tomorrow, one of which I haven't even started, but today I just could not focus. I have had an entire day that has been completely wasted on my meanderings through Green Lake and various Sufjan Steven's songs! Here is a little taste of my day...
Sufjan, who I am crushing on big time since going to his concert this weekend (how can a girl resist a guy wearing butterfly wings playing the banjo with inflatable Santa and Superman dolls all around him??), well he has some beautiful music. Here are the lyrics to my favorite song of the day:
For The Widows in Paradise; for The Fatherless in Ypsilanti
(Welcome to Michigan album)
I have called you children,
I have called you son.
What is there to answer if I'm the only one?
Morning comes in Paradise,
morning comes in light.
Still I must obey, still I must invite.
If there's anything to say, if there's anything to do,
If there's any other way, I'll do anything for you.
I was dressed embarrassment.
I was dressed in wine.
If you had a part of me,
will you take you're time?
Even if I come back, even if I die
Is there some idea to replace my life?
Like a father to impress;
Like a mother's mourning dress,
If you ever make a mess,
I'll do anything for you
I have called you preacher;
I have called you son.
If you have a father or if you haven't one,
I'll do anything for you.
I did everything for you
And then there was the walk in the park. A professor started crying last week as he talked about the beauty of the fall trees near our school. Honestly, I thought it was a little cheesy, that is until today as I stood near tears staring at a magenta red-pink tree. Take a look:
Sufjan, who I am crushing on big time since going to his concert this weekend (how can a girl resist a guy wearing butterfly wings playing the banjo with inflatable Santa and Superman dolls all around him??), well he has some beautiful music. Here are the lyrics to my favorite song of the day:
For The Widows in Paradise; for The Fatherless in Ypsilanti
(Welcome to Michigan album)
I have called you children,
I have called you son.
What is there to answer if I'm the only one?
Morning comes in Paradise,
morning comes in light.
Still I must obey, still I must invite.
If there's anything to say, if there's anything to do,
If there's any other way, I'll do anything for you.
I was dressed embarrassment.
I was dressed in wine.
If you had a part of me,
will you take you're time?
Even if I come back, even if I die
Is there some idea to replace my life?
Like a father to impress;
Like a mother's mourning dress,
If you ever make a mess,
I'll do anything for you
I have called you preacher;
I have called you son.
If you have a father or if you haven't one,
I'll do anything for you.
I did everything for you
And then there was the walk in the park. A professor started crying last week as he talked about the beauty of the fall trees near our school. Honestly, I thought it was a little cheesy, that is until today as I stood near tears staring at a magenta red-pink tree. Take a look:
Oct 10, 2006
Rest
It has been about six weeks since school started, and all the "disruption" is catching up with me. My brain is tired. I am emotional all the time. I am sensitive to everything going on around me, and every thought I have is somehow connected to Martin Buber's book "I and Thou," which means I am living in a really twisted reality!
But in the midst of all this there has been some fun and beauty. Per Sporty Spice's request...finally, some photos!
Beautiful Mt. Ranier from my street on a clear day! I have seen it dozens of times, but it still takes my breath away every time I come upon a view of this massive mountain!
But in the midst of all this there has been some fun and beauty. Per Sporty Spice's request...finally, some photos!
Beautiful Mt. Ranier from my street on a clear day! I have seen it dozens of times, but it still takes my breath away every time I come upon a view of this massive mountain!
Friend Katie and roommate Stef's birthday party at this weekend's birthday bash and bar hopping (but there wasn't much hopping, just sitting in one bar! We are fierce party animals!)
Roommate Smruti, birthday friend Katie and me:
Oct 2, 2006
Paperweight
My roommates and I are obsessed with The Last Kiss Soundtrack right now. You can read about Stef's favorite songs on her blog (http://www.stefshaf.blogspot.com/), and she inspired me to share this one...
Paperweight
(Schyler Fisk feat. Joshua Radin)
Been up all night
staring at you
wondering what's on your mind
i've been this way with so many before
but this feels like the first time
you want the sunrise to go back to bed
i want to make you laugh
mess up my bed with me
kick off the covers i'm waiting
every word you say
i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
happy to lay here
just happy to be here
i'm happy to know you
play me a song
your newest one
please leave your taste on my tongue
paperweight on my back
cover me like a blanket
mess up my bed with me
kick off the covers i'm waiting
every word you say
i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
and no need to worry
that's wastin time
and no need to wonder what's been on my mind
it's you it's you it's you
every word you say
i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight
and i give up
i let you win
you win cause i'm not counting
you made it back to sleep again
wonder what you're dreaming
For those that wonder what Mars Hill Graduate School is all about, I think this song is a good picture. Going beyond the obvious sexual nature of this song, I think the idea of inviting someone into our bed to mess it up together is a pretty good analogy. We are being asked to invite others into the intimate places within us, not just for cathartic reasons, but allowing others to mess with our stories...even if it means getting hurt in the process. Because it is just that - process. I tell a story, you enter my story, we mess with it, you may hurt me, but from that hurt I learn even more about my own story, and you learn how to respond better to others. Voila! Mars Hill Graduate School...anyone else want to sign up for this craziness! =)
But there is also a playfulness. We all seem to have this "just happy to be here" attitude that gets us through the days that suck. And there is a sense of profoundness in what we are learning from professors and from each other. Perhaps I am reading too much into these lyrics, but it just fits!
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