Canticles of the Unhomed
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Bring it
So I have not been feeling well lately. Exhausted all the time, fuzzy in the head, hot flashes, etc. (No, I am not menopausing) It was really interfering with my work and the House, not to mention my sanity. When you are tired ALL THE TIME, your threshold for certain things is much, much lower. As your physical strength is drained, your creativity and drive go with it. As a writer, whose living depends on creativity and drive, this is disastrous.
So, against my better judgement, and contrary to every possible instinct, I broke down and went to a doctor. Have I mentioned that I hate doctors? In my experience, doctors are only good for one thing. But that's a different story.
So I went to the doctor. I have went to this guy before, and he's competent, skilled even, and really good at what he does. I still despise him, though. In any case, he poked and prodded me, took blood samples, samples of other stuff that I won't mention here, and so on.
Right away he diagnosed extreme exhaustion and dehydration. He scolded me about not eating more regularly. He told me to eat more protein and more leafy green vegetables, less simple carbs, more complex carbs. He told me to up my liquid intake, and consider a vitamin supplement. He suggested that I try meditation or yoga to calm myself down. I nodded and tried not to punch him in the face. I succeeded. This time.
He told me what he thought it was, but he couldn't be sure until he got my blood back. So, I left and waited to be called. He called me the next day. Good news/bad news he said. Good news, my cholesterol was 137. Then he rattled off a bunch of stuff, only some of which I remember - by RBC (what the royal bank has to do with this I don't know) was 5.2, my HGB was 17, blah, blah, blah. All good numbers, he said. With a few exceptions.
It turned out that he was right. So, I went back to his office. Back into hell I stalwartly march. Have I mentioned that I hate doctors?
I have adult form mononucleosis. Yeah, the kissing disease. Where I caught it from, that's a different story.
I know what you're thinking - no big deal, right? You're tired, you sleep alot a month later or so back to normal, right?
Sure, if I was sixteen. I guess its a little more serious as an adult. Check this out.
Now that I have this disease, I have a greater than 40% chance of COMPLETE liver, kidney or spleen FAILURE. Or any combination of the three.
If I happen to avoid the organ failure, there is a greater than one in three chance that I will end up with some manner of organ DAMAGE.
The doctor so cheerfully mentions that my spleen is already enlarged, and that too much physical activity, or the wrong kind of physical activity can rupture it. If it ruptures, then its nighty-night for Matty.
So the short end of the stick is that I have to go back to this butcher once a week so he can take MORE blood and tissue samples so that he can monitor the health of my organs, in case they begin to fail.
But wait, if we bring to bear the full marvel of modern 21st century medical technology and knowledge, if we exercise the extreme arrogance of the medical profession and avail ourselves of nigh miraculous acheivements of the last fifty years of medical advancement, how do we treat this?
We don't. "There is no effecacious short or long term therapy that would effect any significant improvement," was what the butcher said. So, in this dazzling modern age, in the face of a potentially life-threatening disease, our response is to wait and see if it fixes itself? It reminds of me of Homer Simpson, before his final exam in college, saying that his strategy was to hind under some coats and just hope that everything works out.
But hey, at least he gave me some tips on improving my liver health, and some changes to my diet.
It's all shadows. Shadows chasing themselves across a sunny field. The arrogance galls me.
No, the butcher is a nice guy. He's skilled, earnest, and he showed remarkable compassion. As butchers go, he's not half bad.
He said that the exhaustion will continue, with intermittent sore throats and fevers. Possibly for six to eight months. After that, should I avoid organ damage/failure, I will be back to normal, no harm done.
So I have spent the past few days trying to integrate this into my thinking. I feel the disease at work in my body, and I can sense the frayed edges of my mortality everytime i have to stop half way up the stairs, or when the exhaustion is like a giant hand pressing on me. The desire to sleep is constant.
When I used to visit people in the hospital, especially terminal cases, I was taught to help the person focus on life, that if they became consumed with thoughts of their impending death that it would only serve to hasten the event, and ruin the standard of living in the meantime.
Thus, I have been forcing myself to think about how much I want to live, about how much I love life.
The problem is that I feel within me need for submission. Part of me says that my Master calls. If I an eager to jump to whatever task my master sets for me, whether that be the House, or whatever, who am I to pick and choose which paths my Master sets for me? That perhaps the greatest submission to your master is to step joyfully into the great darkness? Christ is my master, should I walk through light OR darkness. Christ is my master beyond the boundaries of this small life, and this tiny world. If he chooses to spare me, to grant to me a few more days, or to beckon me to other paths, that is HIS right. I have known for a long time, and many of you have heard me say this, that my life is not my own.
This experience has given me new insight into the Rich Mullins' song "Elijah."
The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through
My heart is aging I can tell
So Lord, I'm begging for one last favor from You
Here's my heart take it where You will
This life has shown me how we're mended and how we're torn
How it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free
Sometimes my ground was stoney
And sometimes covered up with thorns
And only You could make it what it had to be
And now that it's done
Well if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind
I don't care
But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye
There's people been friendly, but they'd never be your friends
Sometimes this has bent me to the ground
Now that this is all ending
I want to hear some music once again
'Cause it's the finest thing that I have ever found
But the Jordan is waiting
Though I ain't never seen the other side
Still they say you can't take in the things you have here
So on the road to salvation
I stick out my thumb and He gives me a ride
And His music is already falling on my ears
There's people been talking
They say they're worried about my soul
Well, I'm here to tell you I'll keep rocking
'Til I'm sure it's my time to roll
And when I do
When I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye
'Cause when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye
So, against my better judgement, and contrary to every possible instinct, I broke down and went to a doctor. Have I mentioned that I hate doctors? In my experience, doctors are only good for one thing. But that's a different story.
So I went to the doctor. I have went to this guy before, and he's competent, skilled even, and really good at what he does. I still despise him, though. In any case, he poked and prodded me, took blood samples, samples of other stuff that I won't mention here, and so on.
Right away he diagnosed extreme exhaustion and dehydration. He scolded me about not eating more regularly. He told me to eat more protein and more leafy green vegetables, less simple carbs, more complex carbs. He told me to up my liquid intake, and consider a vitamin supplement. He suggested that I try meditation or yoga to calm myself down. I nodded and tried not to punch him in the face. I succeeded. This time.
He told me what he thought it was, but he couldn't be sure until he got my blood back. So, I left and waited to be called. He called me the next day. Good news/bad news he said. Good news, my cholesterol was 137. Then he rattled off a bunch of stuff, only some of which I remember - by RBC (what the royal bank has to do with this I don't know) was 5.2, my HGB was 17, blah, blah, blah. All good numbers, he said. With a few exceptions.
It turned out that he was right. So, I went back to his office. Back into hell I stalwartly march. Have I mentioned that I hate doctors?
I have adult form mononucleosis. Yeah, the kissing disease. Where I caught it from, that's a different story.
I know what you're thinking - no big deal, right? You're tired, you sleep alot a month later or so back to normal, right?
Sure, if I was sixteen. I guess its a little more serious as an adult. Check this out.
Now that I have this disease, I have a greater than 40% chance of COMPLETE liver, kidney or spleen FAILURE. Or any combination of the three.
If I happen to avoid the organ failure, there is a greater than one in three chance that I will end up with some manner of organ DAMAGE.
The doctor so cheerfully mentions that my spleen is already enlarged, and that too much physical activity, or the wrong kind of physical activity can rupture it. If it ruptures, then its nighty-night for Matty.
So the short end of the stick is that I have to go back to this butcher once a week so he can take MORE blood and tissue samples so that he can monitor the health of my organs, in case they begin to fail.
But wait, if we bring to bear the full marvel of modern 21st century medical technology and knowledge, if we exercise the extreme arrogance of the medical profession and avail ourselves of nigh miraculous acheivements of the last fifty years of medical advancement, how do we treat this?
We don't. "There is no effecacious short or long term therapy that would effect any significant improvement," was what the butcher said. So, in this dazzling modern age, in the face of a potentially life-threatening disease, our response is to wait and see if it fixes itself? It reminds of me of Homer Simpson, before his final exam in college, saying that his strategy was to hind under some coats and just hope that everything works out.
But hey, at least he gave me some tips on improving my liver health, and some changes to my diet.
It's all shadows. Shadows chasing themselves across a sunny field. The arrogance galls me.
No, the butcher is a nice guy. He's skilled, earnest, and he showed remarkable compassion. As butchers go, he's not half bad.
He said that the exhaustion will continue, with intermittent sore throats and fevers. Possibly for six to eight months. After that, should I avoid organ damage/failure, I will be back to normal, no harm done.
So I have spent the past few days trying to integrate this into my thinking. I feel the disease at work in my body, and I can sense the frayed edges of my mortality everytime i have to stop half way up the stairs, or when the exhaustion is like a giant hand pressing on me. The desire to sleep is constant.
When I used to visit people in the hospital, especially terminal cases, I was taught to help the person focus on life, that if they became consumed with thoughts of their impending death that it would only serve to hasten the event, and ruin the standard of living in the meantime.
Thus, I have been forcing myself to think about how much I want to live, about how much I love life.
The problem is that I feel within me need for submission. Part of me says that my Master calls. If I an eager to jump to whatever task my master sets for me, whether that be the House, or whatever, who am I to pick and choose which paths my Master sets for me? That perhaps the greatest submission to your master is to step joyfully into the great darkness? Christ is my master, should I walk through light OR darkness. Christ is my master beyond the boundaries of this small life, and this tiny world. If he chooses to spare me, to grant to me a few more days, or to beckon me to other paths, that is HIS right. I have known for a long time, and many of you have heard me say this, that my life is not my own.
This experience has given me new insight into the Rich Mullins' song "Elijah."
The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through
My heart is aging I can tell
So Lord, I'm begging for one last favor from You
Here's my heart take it where You will
This life has shown me how we're mended and how we're torn
How it's okay to be lonely as long as you're free
Sometimes my ground was stoney
And sometimes covered up with thorns
And only You could make it what it had to be
And now that it's done
Well if they dressed me like a pauper
Or if they dined me like a prince
If they lay me with my fathers
Or if my ashes scatter on the wind
I don't care
But when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye
There's people been friendly, but they'd never be your friends
Sometimes this has bent me to the ground
Now that this is all ending
I want to hear some music once again
'Cause it's the finest thing that I have ever found
But the Jordan is waiting
Though I ain't never seen the other side
Still they say you can't take in the things you have here
So on the road to salvation
I stick out my thumb and He gives me a ride
And His music is already falling on my ears
There's people been talking
They say they're worried about my soul
Well, I'm here to tell you I'll keep rocking
'Til I'm sure it's my time to roll
And when I do
When I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye
'Cause when I leave I want to go out like Elijah
With a whirlwind to fuel my chariot of fire
And when I look back on the stars
It'll be like a candlelight in Central Park
And it won't break my heart to say goodbye
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
To Hell With This...
So Jayson and I spent some time in Saskatoon a couple of weeks ago (okay, so it was a few months now) fighting (not debating, or discussing, or dialoguing) about hell. He asked me to blog about it. Check out his thoughts here.
So, I am preparing a defense of the more... classical understanding of the doctrine of eternal punishment. I would like to point anyone who is interested to probably the most definitive work on the subject, "Death and the Afterlife" by Dr. Robert Morey, Bethany House Publishers, ISBN: 076422686X.
I am choosing not to get involved in the philosophic or ethical issues around the doctrine of hell. I know that is precisely what Jayson is interested in, but I think a more Scripture-centric exploration would be more informative, and less distracted by more present-day cultural interpretations. For the purposes of this blog, I will limit myself to an examination of Matthew 25:31-46 and 2 Thessalonians 1:6-10.
My thesis is that eternal punishment is actual, conscious, and everlasting, based upon a literal reading of the two passages. More to the point, this thesis is supported in a general sense of the references to the doctrine of eternal punishment throughout the New Testament. Of course, I am dealing with New Testament passages here, and reflect a New Testament sensibility. The truth is that the Old Testament is vague to the point of incoherency about the nature of the afterlife, punitive or otherwise, and the New Testament is several orders of magnitude more explicit, though still not adequately explicit for some. Personally, I am not comfortable with this thesis. More on that later.
A note on my approach to Scripture. To me, the words of the Scriptures are absolute. I don't necessarily follow with all this post-modern "culturally layered meta-narrative story evolution" bull-shyte. I believe that God intended for the Scriptures to be understood simply and clearly. The original writers had an intention that they were trying to share, and it is my job as exegete to uncover that intention. The Scriptures are the result of an oral tradition and were originally intended for a simple, though culturally estranged from us, audience. That tells me that the Scriptures do not need an overly complicated or sophisticated interpretive model. If some barely literate pastor in some third world country can hold the new testament, newly translated into his own language, and derive comfort and instruction for his community without "appreciating the subtle nuances of culture and historical interpretation," then I should be able to as well.
MATTHEW 25:31-46 -- This is the apocalyptic chapter of Matthew in which Jesus is talking about final things. In chapter 24 he talked about the end of days, "one will be taken, the other left," what some call the Rapture. He then moves on and tells two parables. One, about the talents, suggesting that we need take care with which we fill our days, for when the Master returns, there will be an accounting; a clear reference to judgement, specifically of works. Then he tells the parable of the wise and foolish virgins. The wise virgins brought extra oil, while the foolish ones only took what they immediately needed. Thus, when they ran out, the foolish virgins had to go back, and miss the rendezvous with the Bridegroom. Again, there is a connotation of impending judgement, and the need to be prepared, for the judgement will be swift, unblinking and final. The next section is what some call the parable of the sheep and the goats. Though I am no textual scholar, it seems to me that the language in this section is sufficiently different to suggest that this is not a parable like the others. The first two parables both dealt with the subject of judgement in an earthly sense; first as an accounting of earthly deeds, and then in reference to preparation for some mysterious future event. The language in both these is particularly figurative, while in the third story, suddenly the language becomes much more definite. There are certain things that are interesting to note in this story. First is the use of more classical apocalyptic language. One of the textbook definitions of apocalyptic language is the use of vivid descriptive language. Jesus describes the throne, and those gathered before it. Jesus uses the pastoral metaphor of separating sheep from goats as a shepherd would; an image well known to his rustic listeners, but there is never the sense that Jesus is implying that actual sheep and goats were being divided. He says that the people were being divided AS a shepherd would separate goats from among his flock of sheep. Also, interestingly, Jesus identifies himself here, in referencing "the Son of Man," a title that Jesus frequently used to describe himself. Again, the judgement here was in reference to earthly deeds, specifically the treatment of the poor, displaced, oppressed or the disenfranchised. This is a departure from classical parable language. Also, the fate of the righteous and the wicked are described with almost poetic clarity: "Come, you who have been blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world," "Get away from me, you who are accursed, into the eternal fire that has been prepared for the devil and his angels!" "These people will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous will go into eternal life." The interesting thing in this passage is the juxtaposition, in verse 46, of eternal punishment and eternal life. This kind of almost poetic contrast is common in Hebrew poetry, though this is not poetry. The Greek in this passage is "kolaysin aionion," which literally means, "punishment/torment/painful disquietude of infinite duration." The Greek word "kolaysin" refers to the physical torture, pain or torment one receives as punishment for wrongdoing. The original readers would have understood this as a physical pain, not mental or spiritual anguish. The Greek word "aionion" is generally translated "eternal," though it refers to DURATION rather than nature. The original readers would have understood this to be referring to an unending span of time.
A note here as to the Greek word "aionion." This is the word that we derive our word "eon" from, meaning an indefinite span of time, nonetheless with a beginning and an end. There are some scholars that ascribe this connotation to the meaning of the word, and their evidence is legion. It is the application of this theory that produces purgatory theology such as that of the Roman Catholic Church. However, the Patristics were unanimous in their belief in an unending lucid afterlife, both positive and negative. However, to be fair, the belief in purgatory can be found in the Patristics as well. As well, it should be noted that the translators of the major bible translations, such as the NASB, NIV, NRSV, and the NKJV do not render the word in this manner, and rather tend to prefer the "everlasting" connotation. Now, alternatively, the Greek phrase "zoayne aionion," literally means, "living existence/life/opposite of death of infinite duration." Most people have no problem with the idea of an eternal heaven where the righteous enjoy God's presence and are rewarded for their faithfulness for eternity. However, in this same passage, using the same language, even in the same sentence Jesus, through the written words of the Apostle Matthew, speaks of never-ending torment for those cast away from God's presence.
The clear indication from this passage is that the idea that the author (Matthew) was trying convey was that the speaker (Christ) was intimating a final positive and negative consequence for the way we choose to live our lives. That negative consequence, hell, is portrayed as of infinite duration; punitive in nature, away from God's presence, and that the victims of this consequence are entirely lucid.
2 THESSALONIANS 1:6-10 -- In 2 Thessalonians Paul was writing to an influential Greek church on the main roman road east, the Via Egnatia. In his previous letter, he commended them for the faith and set to correcting some of their beliefs about the end times. The correction did not seem to be sufficient, since almost the entirety of the second letter is given over to eschatological explanation. The large idea in this book is suffering. This is common throughout the New Testament. NT writers often waxed eschatological in order to comfort the Christians they were writing to. This is the intent of the entire book of Revelation. It seemed to be the aim of the NT writers to bring persecuted Christians comfort by placing their hope in the future, where everything will be sorted out, the wicked will get what's coming to them, and the righteous will be rewarded for their faith, and God's sovereignty will ultimately be exercised. The Thessalonian Christians were still under considerable persecution, and Paul was writing to them to encourage them. Coming to 1:6-10 specifically, Paul is encouraging the believers as to the fate of those that persecute them. The passage refers to God repaying with affliction those that had caused affliction on the believers. Paul comforts the Thessalonian Christians by essentially saying, "Don't worry, those bastards that made you suffer will get their comeuppance. God will destroy them for what they have done." The retributionary nature of this punishment is a key idea. In this case Paul was referring to the Romans, of course, and the unfolding vilification of the Roman Empire is a recurring theme in New Testament writings. The NIV says, "... This will happen when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven in blazing fire with his powerful angels. He will punish those who do not know God (the Romans) and do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. (The unbelievers, and by extension, the Romans) They (those that don't know God and/or have rejected the gospel) will be punished with everlasting destruction (olethron aionion) and shut out from the presence of the Lord and from the majesty of his power..." In the same passage, the NKJV says that Christ will come "... in flaming fire taking vengeance on those who do not know God..." The interesting Greek phrase "olethron aionion" is used here. This should be juxtaposed with "kolaysin aionion," which we examined in the last passage. The construction is similar. In this passage, "olethron" is rendered "destruction," although there is a connotation of an ongoing destruction. Matthew Henry, the great Puritan scholar, says about this passage, "This destruction will be everlasting. They shall be always dying, and yet never die. Their misery will run parallel with the line of eternity. The chains of darkness are everlasting chains, and the fire is everlasting fire. It must needs be so, since the punishment is inflicted by an eternal God, fastening upon an immortal soul, set out of the reach of divine mercy and grace." Olethron does not connate annihilation. It does not suggest that something is completely obliterated, but rather ruined, corrupted, wrecked, damaged beyond repair; sort of the way that we would say that a car that had been totaled in an accident has been "destroyed." So, these poor wretches will suffer the agony of being wrecked, ruined, or damaged beyond repair for all of eternity; of always dying, but never being dead. This should not be confused with the judgement of God in this world. God deals out punishment and destruction in this life, but it is always through instruments; such as his use of Nebuchadnezzar to destroy the nation of Israel, etc. But, in this case, the punishment will come directly from the hand of God himself. As I see it, the implication is clear. Again, we see a punitive afterlife based upon the actions of those involved. That afterlife is actual, ongoing, everlasting and lucid.
How do we respond to this? What does this tell us about the nature of the God that we serve, that we call Master? The truth is I cannot defend the ethicality of a God that would inflict such horrible punishment on someone in an entirely retributionary sense. In the biblical witness concerning hell, there is no discussion of reconciliation or rehabilitation. Personally, that flies in the face of what I know about God. As far as I see from the biblical record, hell, or the lake of fire, or whatever you want to call it is an END. You go to hell, and that is IT. I am not comfortable with this at all. Yet I believe it. I must.
And yet... I do not judge the Scriptures from my experience, rather the reverse. I am required to say that I must conclude I am missing something about the nature of God. I would prefer a gentler God, but it is not my place to judge my Master. Maybe, just maybe, God is not the God of North American Evangelicalism. Perhaps we are guilty of anthropomorphizing God just a bit too much. God is not like us. We are created in his image, but he is nonetheless alien to us. He says in Isaiah 55:8,9: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." If he was so much like us, then the incarnation would not have been necessary. Perhaps we are no better off than some South American tribe that has heard of Christ, but has had no explicit teaching. Perhaps the past five hundred years of Protestantism and the preceding thousand years of institutional Christianity has served to do nothing more than insulate and isolate us from the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. What is it that the Gospel of Thomas says... "... do not look for me in a house of stone, but split a piece of wood and I am there, turn a stone and I am there..." I am reminded that one of the things that God does best is obliterate our preconceptions, presumptions and paradigms. At the end, I would have to say that while I am not comfortable with the idea of the punitive afterlife as rendered by these Scriptures, I don't have to be. God hasn't come to me and asked me to sign off on these things before he puts them out. God is the landlord of this house. If he wants to paint it hot pink with green and blue polka dots, then that is his right. It’s up to me to find a way to integrate it. I guess its part of being a grown up. Sometimes, when you're a kid, if you don't like something you can throw a tantrum, and hold your breath until the associated authority figure gives in. Now though, we are better at those tantrums, and they tend to be more sophisticated than simply holding our breath and stamping our foot. But, as an adult, we are sometimes confronted with things that we may not like, but are powerless to change. Maybe this is like that.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
The Norm
I am surrounded by broken relationships.
Why does it seem like I am the only person who is not happy with this, that believes that broken relationship is just the norm?
Of course, I have quite the list of broken relationships; I seem to collect them like macabre trophies of my darkness' victories. But, I am trying to chip away at that list. I am trying to heal those relationships. Of course here are some that are more important to me - closer is perhaps a better word - and thus they receive priority. My family seems to be pretty damn low on the list. I can deal with that.
One, I try - almost on a daily basis - to heal, to move forward, but I am CONSTANTLY rebuffed. Perhaps I am insane. Perhaps that is just the way it is. I don't believe it. I can't. If I start believing that that is just the way it is, and the is just the way of the universe, I WILL go insane. Because, if that is the way of the universe what hope is there of there EVER being a stable relationship? What will be the point? If every relationship I have is doomed to inevitiable dissolution and pain, then what is the fucking point? Suddenly a hermitage in northern alberta begins to look better and better.
I have to believe that things can get better. I absolutely have to. Perhaps, as I have been told, it is only my stubborn sense of justice that makes me keep writing emails every single f*&^#! day. Maybe I am being horribly unrealistic. But, if it keeps me sane, then I must.
The other, I am strategizing. In this case it is a relationship with a group of people, and thus is more complex. I miss these people so much that sometimes it hurts, but they hurt me pretty bad, and I find myself shying away. But, likewise I caused alot of hurt myself, and that is not easily overcome. How can we come together and not just talk about the most surfacy things imanginable? How do we talk about these hurtful things with the aim of reconciliation and restoration without simply sweeping it under the rug or pretending that it never happened? There is something to be said for putting it away and not reopening old wounds. But, if these things are still alive between us, don't they need to be dealt with in the open? I don't know - I know anything, but how much I miss these people. I once counted them as my closest friends in the world - the one or two people in the world that I could wake up at 3:00 in the morning if I was in trouble. Can that just be destroyed, wiped out? That's what I am talking about. If I cannot count on these relationships, the most profound that I had ever had up to this point, not to splinter and fray, and give in to the attrition of life, then what hope is there for the future? Why should I bother?
I am reminded of the Johnny Cash line, "my sweetest friend/everyone I know/goes away in the end..." He at least reserves some tattered hope, "if I could start again/a million miles away/I would keep myself/I would find a way..."
And then... and then... maybe she was all wrong for me, and perhaps i wasn't the right person for her either; perhaps our relationship was purely physical. Perhaps when the physical is so good, you can overlook the rest... but I would like to find out, now with a clear head, who she really is. But, perhaps its too late. I would like to think that I am not all that hard to have dinner with.
I hate it all; I carry it around with me like a stone in my chest. Is it too much to ask for, to have some relational harmony? Perhaps I just suck at relationships. That's a reality that I am willing to entertain. Perhaps I am just impossible to love.
I dunno.
Why does it seem like I am the only person who is not happy with this, that believes that broken relationship is just the norm?
Of course, I have quite the list of broken relationships; I seem to collect them like macabre trophies of my darkness' victories. But, I am trying to chip away at that list. I am trying to heal those relationships. Of course here are some that are more important to me - closer is perhaps a better word - and thus they receive priority. My family seems to be pretty damn low on the list. I can deal with that.
One, I try - almost on a daily basis - to heal, to move forward, but I am CONSTANTLY rebuffed. Perhaps I am insane. Perhaps that is just the way it is. I don't believe it. I can't. If I start believing that that is just the way it is, and the is just the way of the universe, I WILL go insane. Because, if that is the way of the universe what hope is there of there EVER being a stable relationship? What will be the point? If every relationship I have is doomed to inevitiable dissolution and pain, then what is the fucking point? Suddenly a hermitage in northern alberta begins to look better and better.
I have to believe that things can get better. I absolutely have to. Perhaps, as I have been told, it is only my stubborn sense of justice that makes me keep writing emails every single f*&^#! day. Maybe I am being horribly unrealistic. But, if it keeps me sane, then I must.
The other, I am strategizing. In this case it is a relationship with a group of people, and thus is more complex. I miss these people so much that sometimes it hurts, but they hurt me pretty bad, and I find myself shying away. But, likewise I caused alot of hurt myself, and that is not easily overcome. How can we come together and not just talk about the most surfacy things imanginable? How do we talk about these hurtful things with the aim of reconciliation and restoration without simply sweeping it under the rug or pretending that it never happened? There is something to be said for putting it away and not reopening old wounds. But, if these things are still alive between us, don't they need to be dealt with in the open? I don't know - I know anything, but how much I miss these people. I once counted them as my closest friends in the world - the one or two people in the world that I could wake up at 3:00 in the morning if I was in trouble. Can that just be destroyed, wiped out? That's what I am talking about. If I cannot count on these relationships, the most profound that I had ever had up to this point, not to splinter and fray, and give in to the attrition of life, then what hope is there for the future? Why should I bother?
I am reminded of the Johnny Cash line, "my sweetest friend/everyone I know/goes away in the end..." He at least reserves some tattered hope, "if I could start again/a million miles away/I would keep myself/I would find a way..."
And then... and then... maybe she was all wrong for me, and perhaps i wasn't the right person for her either; perhaps our relationship was purely physical. Perhaps when the physical is so good, you can overlook the rest... but I would like to find out, now with a clear head, who she really is. But, perhaps its too late. I would like to think that I am not all that hard to have dinner with.
I hate it all; I carry it around with me like a stone in my chest. Is it too much to ask for, to have some relational harmony? Perhaps I just suck at relationships. That's a reality that I am willing to entertain. Perhaps I am just impossible to love.
I dunno.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
BUY MY BOOK!
<--- Click on this link to buy my book! Sorry Derek, no book signing. So far. Who knows what will happen in the future. Speaking of the future, soon there will be Ronin's Honour t-shirts, ballcaps, thongs, boxers, mugs and other swag. Be sure to pick some up. That's right. You heard me. Thongs. Oh yeah.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Limping
Be sure to read the article below.
I have been giving a lot of thought lately to what kind of a leader I am. I have garnered some attention for helping build the House. I fit the profile (I guess) of the emergent leader. I come from a background of traditional leadership models. I am steeped in theology and leadership training. I am good at the "church" thing. Perhaps the only thing that is missing if for Chuck and I to write a book about the House for Emergent YS. Perhaps I could be the next Paggitt, or McLaren.
Bull-shyte.
Anyone who has been around me the past month or so knows the truth. I have been hamstrung. Disqualified. I was asked today, "Are you here?" Meaning, am I present, is my head and my heart and my soul here in this community? No, it is not. It is 3000 miles away.
What is left to me? To figure some way to fix me? To find some corrective to get me feeling happy and cheerful again?
Shyte, I don't even know if I WANT to be corrected.
Maybe i can step back from leadership. Maybe if I step down from the pastorate of the House, the pressure would be off, and I can get back to normal.
Unlikely.
I have been CALLED. The truth of that calling has never wavered. These people own me. They may have gotten a lemon, but they still own me. I may leave, but that calling remains intact. I am a leader. God called me to lead, and so I will lead, and suffer the consequences. Anyone out there who is thinking of entering leadership: if you can, DON'T. If you must lead, lead, but if you can live without it, run, don't walk, the other way. A leader can no more step down from being a leader than I can stop being a human.
So, can't be fixed, can't step down. I guess what is left to me is to figure out how to lead from weakness. If I can figure that out, perhaps there's a book in that -- too bad I won't figure it out until ten minutes AFTER I've gone tits-up.
PS: My book, Ronin's Honour, is now for sale. There's a link here (the "BUY MY BOOK" button) to buy it, or you can google the title. Please buy many, many, many, copies. :)
I have been giving a lot of thought lately to what kind of a leader I am. I have garnered some attention for helping build the House. I fit the profile (I guess) of the emergent leader. I come from a background of traditional leadership models. I am steeped in theology and leadership training. I am good at the "church" thing. Perhaps the only thing that is missing if for Chuck and I to write a book about the House for Emergent YS. Perhaps I could be the next Paggitt, or McLaren.
Bull-shyte.
Anyone who has been around me the past month or so knows the truth. I have been hamstrung. Disqualified. I was asked today, "Are you here?" Meaning, am I present, is my head and my heart and my soul here in this community? No, it is not. It is 3000 miles away.
What is left to me? To figure some way to fix me? To find some corrective to get me feeling happy and cheerful again?
Shyte, I don't even know if I WANT to be corrected.
Maybe i can step back from leadership. Maybe if I step down from the pastorate of the House, the pressure would be off, and I can get back to normal.
Unlikely.
I have been CALLED. The truth of that calling has never wavered. These people own me. They may have gotten a lemon, but they still own me. I may leave, but that calling remains intact. I am a leader. God called me to lead, and so I will lead, and suffer the consequences. Anyone out there who is thinking of entering leadership: if you can, DON'T. If you must lead, lead, but if you can live without it, run, don't walk, the other way. A leader can no more step down from being a leader than I can stop being a human.
So, can't be fixed, can't step down. I guess what is left to me is to figure out how to lead from weakness. If I can figure that out, perhaps there's a book in that -- too bad I won't figure it out until ten minutes AFTER I've gone tits-up.
PS: My book, Ronin's Honour, is now for sale. There's a link here (the "BUY MY BOOK" button) to buy it, or you can google the title. Please buy many, many, many, copies. :)
Limping Leaders
I almost hate to do this, but contrary to popular belief, I AM alive.
And I’m back.
Limping Leaders
For a generation fixated on sprinting, failure is producing a better way.
by Skye Jethani, Leadership associate editor
We've heard the success stories of emergent church leaders for the past ten years or so, now they're starting to confess their failures. It seems my generation has finally been around long enough to begin experiencing burnouts, moral failures, and conflicts reminiscent of our parents' churches. But will wounded leaders mark the end of the emerging church, or will they continue to lead us by limping into the future?
Last month at the FutureGen conference in Orlando, I met successful young leaders telling tales of personal burnout, struggle with sexual issues, and significant disagreement in their young congregations. This was a shift from what I've come to expect at next generation conferences. Torn jeans, tattoos, creative facial hair configurations, and music loud enough to dislodge internal organs are still the norm, but along with next generation success stories I noticed a new trend-emerging failure.
That may explain why so many were attracted to Mike Sares. At first, Mike seemed out of place among the conference presenters. He wore shorts (a fashion faux pas at a young adult ministry conference, even in Florida), he sported no visible tattoos, his face was clean-shaven, and he was definitely not twenty-something. He did have two things going for him. First, he was pastor of a church in Denver called Scum of the Earth. That alone gave him credibility in this crowd. And Mike also had more life and ministry experience than just about anyone at the conference. The centerpiece of Mike's talk was Jacob-the proud, defiant, and successful young man who wrestled with God and walked with a limp the remaining days of his life. Mike's point was simple. The best, most trustworthy, and godly leaders walk with a limp. They have been humbled by God and by life, and they lead out of Christ's strength rather than their own. He echoed Paul's advice that leaders not be young in the faith and susceptible to arrogance, but first tested and proven faithful in the small things. I noticed many sympathetic nods from the wounded young leaders in attendance. To twenty-somethings who have ridden the excitement surrounding "next generation" ministry into positions of prominence and authority, this was a wake up call.
How many of us have allowed our ambition for ministry to eclipse our preparation? How many of us have pursued new ministries and churches not from a true calling, but because of our impatience? How many emerging superstars will have their hips touched by God before they become the limping leaders he desires? The increasing number of young leaders who have acquired a limp should be encouraged and hopeful. Those with limps should not be pitied, avoided, or criticized. These men and women are actually the most qualified to lead God's people. As Scripture repeatedly shows, it is the limping leader, not the sprinter, who can be trusted with the keys to the church. Reflecting on the rest of the conference, and other voices speaking to young church leaders, I wondered, Why aren't more people calling forth patience and humility from young church leaders? Why aren't more people sharing the virtues of limping with a generation fixated on sprinting?
As a young church leader myself, I hear a lot about pursuing one's passion, being an agent of change, and breaking out of the box of the modern church-it's all about sprinting. There are countless voices inspiring young leaders to stand up and take charge. Who is calling us to sit down and take our time? How many burned out, but gifted, young men and women would still be in ministry if they had heard this countercultural message? But hope is not lost. What my generation has failed to learn from next generation ministry books and conferences, we will surely learn from life.
As we pursue ministry with a degree of arrogance and impatience, God's Spirit will touch the hips of more and more young leaders. This, as Mike Sares reminded me, is God's grace to us. As our pace slows from a sprint, to a walk, to a limp we will come to a richer understanding of our calling and identity. We will slow down enough to actually experience God's presence in our lives, not merely in music that bombards our senses. The time will come when we are no longer heralded as innovators in the church (a designation almost always bestowed upon sprinters), but we will have learned to rely more upon Christ than conferences for guidance. As the emerging church movement matures, I have little doubt popular trends will continue to dominate the conference circuit, with topics like "What Your Church Can Learn From Your iPod." And gifted young men and women will continue to be drawn, or pushed, into leadership before they are ready. But as we experience life, as we wrestle with God, and as he humbles us through burnout and failures, we may begin to seek more wisdom from our leaders who limp rather than from our peers who run.
Skye Jethani is associate editor of Leadership and a teaching pastor at Blanchard Road Alliance Church in Wheaton, Illinois.
And I’m back.
Limping Leaders
For a generation fixated on sprinting, failure is producing a better way.
by Skye Jethani, Leadership associate editor
We've heard the success stories of emergent church leaders for the past ten years or so, now they're starting to confess their failures. It seems my generation has finally been around long enough to begin experiencing burnouts, moral failures, and conflicts reminiscent of our parents' churches. But will wounded leaders mark the end of the emerging church, or will they continue to lead us by limping into the future?
Last month at the FutureGen conference in Orlando, I met successful young leaders telling tales of personal burnout, struggle with sexual issues, and significant disagreement in their young congregations. This was a shift from what I've come to expect at next generation conferences. Torn jeans, tattoos, creative facial hair configurations, and music loud enough to dislodge internal organs are still the norm, but along with next generation success stories I noticed a new trend-emerging failure.
That may explain why so many were attracted to Mike Sares. At first, Mike seemed out of place among the conference presenters. He wore shorts (a fashion faux pas at a young adult ministry conference, even in Florida), he sported no visible tattoos, his face was clean-shaven, and he was definitely not twenty-something. He did have two things going for him. First, he was pastor of a church in Denver called Scum of the Earth. That alone gave him credibility in this crowd. And Mike also had more life and ministry experience than just about anyone at the conference. The centerpiece of Mike's talk was Jacob-the proud, defiant, and successful young man who wrestled with God and walked with a limp the remaining days of his life. Mike's point was simple. The best, most trustworthy, and godly leaders walk with a limp. They have been humbled by God and by life, and they lead out of Christ's strength rather than their own. He echoed Paul's advice that leaders not be young in the faith and susceptible to arrogance, but first tested and proven faithful in the small things. I noticed many sympathetic nods from the wounded young leaders in attendance. To twenty-somethings who have ridden the excitement surrounding "next generation" ministry into positions of prominence and authority, this was a wake up call.
How many of us have allowed our ambition for ministry to eclipse our preparation? How many of us have pursued new ministries and churches not from a true calling, but because of our impatience? How many emerging superstars will have their hips touched by God before they become the limping leaders he desires? The increasing number of young leaders who have acquired a limp should be encouraged and hopeful. Those with limps should not be pitied, avoided, or criticized. These men and women are actually the most qualified to lead God's people. As Scripture repeatedly shows, it is the limping leader, not the sprinter, who can be trusted with the keys to the church. Reflecting on the rest of the conference, and other voices speaking to young church leaders, I wondered, Why aren't more people calling forth patience and humility from young church leaders? Why aren't more people sharing the virtues of limping with a generation fixated on sprinting?
As a young church leader myself, I hear a lot about pursuing one's passion, being an agent of change, and breaking out of the box of the modern church-it's all about sprinting. There are countless voices inspiring young leaders to stand up and take charge. Who is calling us to sit down and take our time? How many burned out, but gifted, young men and women would still be in ministry if they had heard this countercultural message? But hope is not lost. What my generation has failed to learn from next generation ministry books and conferences, we will surely learn from life.
As we pursue ministry with a degree of arrogance and impatience, God's Spirit will touch the hips of more and more young leaders. This, as Mike Sares reminded me, is God's grace to us. As our pace slows from a sprint, to a walk, to a limp we will come to a richer understanding of our calling and identity. We will slow down enough to actually experience God's presence in our lives, not merely in music that bombards our senses. The time will come when we are no longer heralded as innovators in the church (a designation almost always bestowed upon sprinters), but we will have learned to rely more upon Christ than conferences for guidance. As the emerging church movement matures, I have little doubt popular trends will continue to dominate the conference circuit, with topics like "What Your Church Can Learn From Your iPod." And gifted young men and women will continue to be drawn, or pushed, into leadership before they are ready. But as we experience life, as we wrestle with God, and as he humbles us through burnout and failures, we may begin to seek more wisdom from our leaders who limp rather than from our peers who run.
Skye Jethani is associate editor of Leadership and a teaching pastor at Blanchard Road Alliance Church in Wheaton, Illinois.
