lonely hearts club

There is a loneliness that lives in me all the time. It doesn’t matter how many friends it seems like I have, or how many I really do have. There’s some part of me that holds back in each relationship, so I don’t know if I’m really myself, and I’m not sure who actually knows me. Either that, or the people I would be most vulnerable with don’t live nearby or are too busy for the kind of friendship I crave or already have a full rung of inner-circle friends.

Nick really knows me. Still, there is this phenomenon that tells me I’m not crazy. Whenever Nick goes out of town and I send him a video message, I’m even more myself in the video than I am around him. I’m just me, in my own space and my own time, alone. I’m more me when I’m alone, and that is sort of a twisted way to live. I am lonely at heart, and still I crave solitude. I’m innately lonely. It’s the most natural, familiar experience, and it pervades my sense of self and my interactions with other people, even relationships with close friends. I feel decidedly separate, incapable of being fully myself with other people. 

I think that’s why it feels so devastating when I sense (or can see on faces) people making assumptions about me, or operating with a particular idea of what they think my life or my personality is. Usually, I feel devastated because they’re either wrong or indifferent. It’s in the moment when I blink and smile back and realize my actual self is not the person they’re talking to. I don’t know how to put them right because I haven’t given them enough of myself in the first place.

I think some of the people I’ve become friends with over the years were a little quick to categorize me after they knew a few things or had a general impression, or because I seem like the more reserved type (upon first impression…hard to break out of btw). Remember: not everyone says what they’re thinking or feeling or gives their opinion (or actual knowledge) in the moment. Some of us experience our emotions internally. Some of us need a couple years of having quality time before we feel safe enough to be seen.

I did high school with high-functioning depression. I learned how to self-regulate and not express emotions unless I was alone, so I feel the most emotionally regulated and stable when I’ve been alone for a stretch. I know how to be fine (doing well!) at all times around other people. At the cost of my own sense of belonging, my own emotional caretaking, and my own emotional awareness. (And the thing is, sometimes this is a cycle. It goes: I can’t be myself. You assume you know how/who I am. I am feeling something but can’t share it because you don’t know me, so I play fine. You think I’m fine. I continue to be lonely and misunderstood. You think me at my lonely-worst is my personality and are not attracted to it. I can’t be myself.)

Even when I’m with my counselor (of over a year), it’s hard to show her what I’m feeling. I cry, and I laugh about it. I cry, and I apologize for it. I cry, and I say I’m confused because it’s not a big deal and I should be over it. I cry because I’m not fine, but I’m crying about the littlest things because I’m actually very sensitive. I feel so deeply. And that’s the thing people assume isn’t true about me. And that’s why it hurts so much.

This is the part where I come in with the illustration of how Jesus is near to me, and I’m not alone because I have him. You know how some things are true, and you know it in your head, but you don’t always feel it in your heart or your gut? I could write a perfect conclusion articulating that beautiful theology, but that would make you think I’m good. I would tack that on so you’d know I’m fine. But I’m still waiting for that knowledge to spread itself out.

So enjoy this song that pairs well with seasonal depression and reflections on loneliness. Know that you’re not alone. Other people are lonely, too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybDdASrKDSc&ab_channel=DeadOceans

internet noise

Communities on the internet tend to expect certain things. Specifically, individuals in online communities (huge or tiny) have expectations. They expect a lot of things, but there are a couple of particular relevance to my thoughts today. People expect to find agreement on the issues they are most passionate about, and they expect the leaders they follow (whoever they consider to be the leaders) to address current issues specifically and immediately.

I saw this most recently after right-wing extremists carried out a domestic terror attack on the Capitol building about 10 days ago. I have been processing that event ever since. In real life, we have time to spend thinking, praying, and feeling our emotions about things. Yet, the more engaged we are online, the more we tend to move quickly through the news because there is always another story, and we think we have to know everything.

We want to be aware and informed. But our need to know about everything going on actually makes us less informed about each subject we’re trying to hold onto. We blow through headlines without taking the time to read the facts and investigate, let alone figure out what we feel and think. We look to our internet communities (or the news media, or whatever you consider your sources) to dictate what we should think and feel about the events of the day. I’m not even suggesting we’re looking to them for this. It is definitely happening. Either we are going to trusted people looking for the right perspective, or we are consuming content and being told what to think and feel whether we like it or not.

There are certain people (regular ones, like you and me) who feel obligated to share every story and offer commentary. Some people can do this with consistency and wisdom, but not everyone can be expected to engage so much, and (ahem) not everyone is an expert. Also, what if everyone we knew was actually doing this? That wouldn’t be helpful. It would just be a cacophony. So much of social media has already become a dumpster fire, a cacophony, a noise.

What I saw most recently was a comment on a youtube video by a creator that I follow and enjoy. They post two videos per week, and they are not usually directed toward a certain subject. They vary widely, and they can be informative, thoughtful, hilarious, and wise all at once. The most recent video, from January 15, is titled “Influencers and Insurrectionists.” It’s a very brief take on what the internet has contributed to the rise of the violent right. The comment in question reads, “This is a topic that deserves more than 4 min.” That statement, with regards to the topic An Angry Mob of Trump Supporters & their Insurrection at the Capitol, certainly is true.

On this youtube channel, the method of creation includes parameters, one of which says they may create videos that are no longer than four minutes. If they create longer videos, they may be punished (having to do something silly, like spend 15 hours in Target or peanut butter their face). They may create specifically educational videos, for which this time limit is waived. So, the commenter was probably calling for an educational video in which the creators would address the insurrection in greater depth. But why? I mean, I can understand why. But it is still worth asking.

My questions for this person are:

1. Do you get all your news from this youtube channel? (You probably aren’t very up to date, if that’s the case.)

2. Do you not have enough sources of information, opinion, and emotion about this event? (Then you haven’t looked around enough. It’s everywhere.)

3. Why is it imperative that every famous internet person make a commentary on the big events? If you know these creators and are part of their community, you could basically make the video yourself. You know what they would say, in terms of condemning it and being broken up about it.

4. Do they not get some time to process? Are they not allowed to take a step back from covering every detail of every horrible thing? Do they really have a responsibility to make a longer video just because we didn’t get an in-depth discussion from them?

I think that person’s short comment came off as ignorant and unfeeling, especially because it was trying to be holier-than-thou. I appreciated another comment, presumably from someone else who regularly makes youtube videos (based on the check mark next to their name). It says this:

Great insight. This is part of the thing that scares me about all of the “when are you going to share your opinion on the current political moment?!” messages I get minutes after something happens. I think there’s a lot of value to shutting up sometimes. A lot of value in waiting to form an opinion that is more calm and focused rather than broad and general just because you felt you had to say something before becoming irrelevant and, let’s face it, not being entertaining in the heat of the moment. I don’t want “being first” or “being topical” to be the reasons I make a decision.

Let’s give each other time to take a breath, and let’s try to slow down. Let’s try to process things as they come to us and take our time.

The refrain that I’ve heard and used throughout Trump’s time in the spotlight (like, the last five years) is that words matter. Words. Matter. His rhetoric has always mattered. There were so many conservatives who said they didn’t like his rhetoric, but that he would enact good conservative policies. They didn’t like his rhetoric, but he wouldn’t be so bad once he got to the white house. They didn’t like his rhetoric, but they didn’t have much to say about the fact that he was a sexual predator. They didn’t like his rhetoric, but eh, it’s just words. I’ve never agreed with that. They’re never “just words” when you use them like he does…wildly, yet strategically.

Words have galvanized niche, underground white supremacists groups. They don’t hide anymore. Words have been spewed at immigrants and refugees: GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM. Do you think it’s a coincidence that hate crimes jumped when Trump took office? I could rant about this forever, but I will just reiterate: words matter.

Like so many, I’m ambivalent about social media. These days, I’m primarily hopping on Instagram to take a look at the stories of @sharonsaysso. She’s a former government teacher who answers questions and addresses the news and history with the facts. Her story today resonated with me as I was thinking about all this. Her words:

The truth is that evil exists in the world. The truth is that we must unequivocally and without EVEN A CATCH IN OUR VOICE say: NO. Say: I will not participate in this way of thinking. I will not entertain these thoughts. For these thoughts become my words. These words become my actions. And these actions become MY CHARACTER. And my character is not one that is aligned with hate. My character is not one that is aligned with a state of fear. My character is not one that can defend or coexist with evil. Without even a catch in our voice: Hate has no place in my life. No seat at my table. I don’t invite it to stay. I don’t give it safe harbor. I give no legitimacy to the idea that it is right to kill or harm those that I disagree with or those that are different from me. Because character matters. And our character begins with the very thoughts we entertain. We must not and CANNOT ignore hate. For in doing so, we become ACCOMPLICE TO IT [referring to an MLK quote, which she included earlier].

That pretty much sums up my thoughts exactly. Social media has led to so much damage—to our relationships, which make up our communities, which make up our democracy. We have to start clawing our way back. It will take time and intentionality. It will take mourning over the destruction and violence, and there might be more to come. It will take hard conversations. It will take some unlearning of idealistic notions of American history and American exceptionalism. There’s a lot more to be said and done. But how important is it for me to say it all in this blog post?

featherweight

There is a song I’ve been obsessed with lately. The first time I heard it, the lyrics struck me in the part of my heart that needed relief. It hit every feeling of political and social struggle I’ve felt this year. It feels meditative. It’s where I want my thoughts to go.

The movement of the music and the lyrics makes it sound like a prophetic poem. The song was written before this Fall, but it’s perfect for this exact moment of 2020. I wanted to share it with you. I’ve also been completely blocked up as a writer lately, and this is the first piece of inspiration I’ve had in a long time. (Darn it, Taylor Swift, stop making me feel so unproductive.)

I think it would help if you listened to the song first. Here’s a video with the lyrics. (I’m including them below so you can conveniently refer back to them.)

https://youtu.be/LoZ4q_lft2A

“Featherweight” by Fleet Foxes (from their album Shore)

“All this time I’ve been hanging on
To an edge I caught when we both were young
That the world I want wasn’t near enough
All was distant, always off

In all that war I’d forgotten how
Many men might die for what I’d renounce
I was staging life as a battleground
No I let that grasping fall

May the last long year be forgiven
All that war left within it
I couldn’t, though I’m beginning to
And we only made it together
Feel some change in the weather
I couldn’t though I’m beginning to

Though it’s all so uncertain, cold
All the rafters cracked, all the copper sold
There’s a ration back in a manifold
If you need it or forgot

May the last long year be forgiven
All that war left within it
I couldn’t, though I’m beginning to
And we only made it together
Feel some change in the weather
I couldn’t though I’m beginning to

And somehow I see it’s free

And with love and hate in the balance
One last way past the malice
One warm day is all I really need

And with love and hate in the balance
One last way past the malice
One warm day is all I really need”

Even if you didn’t feel it, I’m sure you can imagine how the song might resonate with people this year. It starts with sounds that feel warm but also slightly dark. I think it gets at some profound truths…in approximately every line.

I certainly understand what it’s like to feel that the world I want isn’t near enough. That basically sums up the fight for justice in this country and in the world. The world we want will be a struggle to bring forth. The world I want ultimately is the kingdom of God, in which the humble are given the most power. It’s upside down, and it’s beautiful. God prioritizes justice, and we long to see our systems and rulers govern with justice and peace.

Obviously, there is an awful lot of fighting about how things should be done (even among those who want the same outcome). A lot of people who claim to want God’s will for the world seem to think God values bootstraps philosophy and capitalism…perhaps because that’s what they value. I think we (Christians) are slowly realizing that’s more Pilgrim-American than it is Bible-Christian. That’s a slow realization for a lot of Christians, though it seems obvious to everyone else. Many might run themselves into the ground defending someone like Trump—someone I’d renounce. And we have staged life as a battleground. Or somehow it has been staged for us. We’re participating, but let’s not pretend that the whole system doesn’t want us to continue fighting so that it can keep feeding.

How do we let our grasping fall? How do we let go of the things that are doing more harm than good? Some of the hills that people are dying on either make others hate them or make them hate others. When your views make you hate other people, it’s time to reevaluate. When the system makes you hate other people more and more, it’s getting out of control. I don’t think anyone is immune. How do we let go?

The chorus is a plea in my heart too—what beautiful words to choose for the end of 2020: “May the last long year be forgiven.” What else is there to say? This year has so much baggage. The presidential campaign alone would have been enough. The racial injustice that led to the swelling of the movement would have been enough. The first wave of the pandemic would have been enough. We have massive issues. We have issues with our massive issues. We have people choosing ignorance over expertise. We have people who would prefer to believe unprovable conspiracy theories because they’ve chosen to distrust specific (credible) sources of news. We feared a coup. We have some delusional leaders. We have people choosing not to put a simple piece of fabric over their mouths to protect their fellow human beings because they think that some fundamental freedom is being violated.

We have individualism run amok. We have collectivism run amok. Maybe the best word for the year is “chaos.” I mean, maybe it’s “amok” because that’s fun…and slightly more aggressive. After all, one of my favorite moments was when John Oliver blew up a huge display of the year 2020, and I watched the fire consume and the wreckage explode and fall to the ground in slow motion. It was spectacular and *almost* satisfying.

“And we only made it together.” That’s true, too. I wish I felt this more nostalgically. I remember moments from March or April, when things still might have gone okay, before everyone was so divided about the pandemic. I remember the first time we saw friends in person after being locked down. It was very cold. We bundled up in comical layers of fleece and wool and blankets, sat outside by a mediocre fire, and ate burgers and fries. It was a feast. We gave each other so much joy. We felt the strength of doing something collectively. We felt the relief of people who have been through something together. I was hoping to be able to feel all those things on a global scale as we got through the COVID19 pandemic together.

But it became fractured, political…venomous. It has felt like a battle. It should have been a battle between humanity and the virus. It should have been the classic story of good vs. evil, with the healthcare heroes, the essential-work heroes, the stay-home heroes, and everyone supporting one another. Instead, we saw something different. We can’t rely on each other. We don’t know if we can trust each other. We don’t really like each other. Ultimately, we don’t understand each other. And we aren’t trying to.

Friendships have developed a film of awkwardness when only one party takes social distancing seriously, while the other side takes it personally. Some people are just choosing to shout into the void. Or they crawl into it to retrieve un-fact-checked information to base their lives around. And the president of the United States has been tweeting for four years. I’m ready for something to change.

I can see that we only made it through 2020 together…just not as together as I’d hoped. I don’t know if I’m beginning to feel a change in the weather. I am certainly ready. I’m certainly hoping. I’ve been checking the forecast. I have certainly made it through with the help of friends, video calls, backyard fires, camping, porch meals, and digital or distanced game nights. We are grateful for those who have delivered food and groceries and goods to our door. We have supported our favorite nonprofits and restaurants and bookstores.

But the people who are really getting us through are being put through the ringer. I wonder if the doctors who have been treating COVID patients this year felt supported or alone in their taxing, draining slog. They are the ones beating back this sickness, simultaneously powerless as the death toll ticks up and up again. I can imagine myself anyway. I would have anxiety and anger and exhaustion in my every muscle. I don’t know how everyone is still standing.

I’m getting on a long tangent here. I suppose keeping it on track would be helpful for a blog, wouldn’t it? C’mon, rusty Emily.

This year has scattered me and depressed me. I’ve got pockets of rage that come out every now and then. I’ve got questions.

I feel the whispers of temporal hope: vaccine, presidential transition. I feel, more than ever, the importance of faith as described in Hebrews: “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” (Heb. 11:1) I see how little of that kind of faith I actually have. It’s easy to recite that concept from Hebrews in your head when you can also have confidence about what you know is coming and assurance about what you can actually see. It’s easy to think you’ve been having faith, but it’s hard to realize that you’ve put your hope mostly in sure things, concrete guarantees.

God’s promises are sure things, but they are different. It requires more faith to believe that God is at work than to believe the predictions of financial, medical, and political experts. When everything in the world is turning to chaos, where can you look for reassurance? I might have told myself that I have hope. But eternal hope hasn’t given me as much assurance for the present lately. What does active, present-tense hope look like in the real world of chaos?

I’m determined that there is space in Christian hope for lament, groaning, and recognizing how very not-normal our lives have become and might continue to be. Some people have refused to adjust their view of life in pandemic-times. I think I was quick (in March) to adjust. First, I firmly believed we needed to shut everything down immediately for a short period in order to see better long-term maintenance. I also adopted the mindset that all our adjustments and our learning how to do things in different ways would continue indefinitely. That has really helped me to cope with the fact that each time we suspected we *might* be close to the other side, we weren’t. My hope wasn’t in getting back to normal or my ability to do regular things as much as possible. I wasn’t interested in that. I was hopeful that we could survive together. But my hope was still in our efforts.

This year was about survival, coping, and getting through a PANDEMIC. This pandemic is a dark, difficult thing. It’s not merely a nuisance or an inconvenience. COVID19 is a life-threatening virus that, in the beginning, no one knew how to contain, control, or cure.

This year has taken so much from us. It’s taken the lives of our loved ones. It’s taken money, health, jobs, homes, relationships, security, peace, and hope. Our metaphorical houses are falling apart. We’re selling off all the valuables just to get by. But the song says there’s a ration tucked away, in case we need it, in case we forgot about it. What is that? What do we have that comes along right when we need it? I don’t know, collectively. I know it reminded me of the verse about faith and invisibility.

I recently saw a story about someone raising small amounts of money from millions of social media followers in order to give $1000 tips to people. Those tips went to people in all kinds of situations. We have the power to help each other. We can rally our resources and provide for people in this time. We have some kind of human resilience that allows us to keep going. Maybe we find a song, a book, or a movie that speaks to us. Maybe we revisit an old favorite, and it helps for a moment. Maybe we have more conversations with our friends and family — there are people there, if you need them, in case you forgot. I want this line to be true, and maybe just thinking about how it might be makes it true. What is that ration? Well, partially, it’s what we come up with when we want to find it. Sometimes we have to look.

For me, this includes those spiritual practices I’ve ignored or forgotten about. It’s that counterintuitive thing that happens to me with the things I most want to be doing. I just don’t do them. I can’t seem to do what I want and need to do so much of the time. I need God every hour, yet I am so forgetful. But I find it so comforting that grief and lament and righteous anger over injustice are part of the Christian story, not because it makes me feel justified in negativity (it’s actually not negativity…sorry if you want me to be “positive”), but because it means someone is listening. God himself is more grieved, more pained, and more angry about all that’s wrong than I am. He knows, and he is with me in those feelings.

“And with love and hate in the balance / One last way past the malice / One warm day’s all I really need.”

Isn’t that lovely? And isn’t it accurate?

We have a choice.
We can choose to reconcile and be good to each other. We don’t have to agree on all things to pursue kindness instead of malice.
We need a refresh. We need a reminder of what it can be like when we are kind and not contemptuous—open and not suspicious.
We need a day to remember what we’re all doing here. We are in this life together. We are responsible to each other. Are we pursuing love and seeking the good of others?

Let’s go try again.

The Empire

I am going to skip the pleasantries of coming back to my blog after taking a break for over a year. I think the best way to begin is just to start practicing again. Mary Oliver is a tremendously popular contemporary poet. She died just last year. I am not a critic, and I’m not a theorist, and I’m not a poetry expert. I am just appreciating her poetry so much this year, and I took some time to process some of the poems that particularly struck me. Lately I have been reading the collection Devotions, so the poems are selected from across of her previous works. The first one is called “Of the Empire.” Here is the text:

We will be known as a culture that feared death
and adored power, that tried to vanquish insecurity
for the few and cared little for the penury of the
many. We will be known as a culture that taught
and rewarded the amassing of things, that spoke
little if at all about the quality of life for
people (other people), for dogs, for rivers. All
the world, in our eyes, they will say, was a
commodity. And they will say that this structure
was held together politically, which it was, and
they will say also that our politics was no more
than an apparatus to accommodate the feelings of
the heart, and that the heart, in those days,
was small, and hard, and full of meanness.

***

She puts things so well. She writes about how we will be known when we are only remembered – as a society, a culture, a people. (She is from the United States, so I consider her words to refer to our country broadly.)

We “feared death and adored power.”
Death and power are opposed, according to her wording. I have thought of death as akin to power. It wields power as it threatens the world. The way it keeps us running away… But I see her point. Because we fear death, we grasp onto whatever makes us feel in control. Holding power makes you feel a certain kind of alive, I suppose, though I have never had a taste for gaining power in the typical sense. I like to control my days, my time, my self. Political power is much sought, much coveted, much abused.

We “tried to vanquish insecurity for the few,”
which to my mind translates pretty well to “tax cuts for the wealthy.” Should we really try not to make politics personal? The personal is political, yes.

We “cared little for the penury of the many.”
With the masses of people in poverty, why didn’t we care more? Who is “we” if there are so many encompassed in this penury? They are not part of the collective voice, I assume.

We “taught and awarded the amassing of things,”
and as I write, none of this is in the past tense, actually. This is my time, and people think that we should pursue comfort, wealth, some sort of luxurious life that constantly eludes because it is ultimately unreachable when made into an ideal.

We “spoke little if at all about the quality of life for people (other people), for dogs, for rivers.”
Quality of life is possibly the guiding principle by which people make personal decisions. Yet other people’s quality of life is not considered when Individual A is making decisions for their own life. Quality of life for the animals that inhabit the same world, or quality of life for the world itself, are only beginning to be really valued by anyone in a collective sense because their very existence is threatened by the climate crisis.

Oliver is holding up the mirror, and I hope that glimpsing our own ugliness from time to time can lead us to make changes. I hope it makes us reflect, which we are reluctant to do (by which I mean we just won’t most of the time). Reflection these days seems to require words such as “detox” and “retreat” and involve an intense process that few are likely to engage with or have the privilege to encounter. It’s really simple and can be done in bits and pieces every day.

On the whole, self-interest, individualism, and bootstraps theology (upheld by Christians who seem to be reading an alternative Bible) are the bedrock of our social values. Welfare is a word that first meant “health, happiness, and good fortune; well-being…prosperity” (according to my dictionary). It meant all this before it was used to name social programs. Welfare is thought of by some as a dirty word. The same people are often quite patriotic – for a country where we claim to value “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Perhaps we actually mean that those who are viewed as having earned their rights (based on race or socioeconomic status) are entitled to such life, freedom, and happy prosperity. Even the later definitions of welfare are nothing that should produce the ire and knee-jerk judgments that it provokes from some conservatives (often Christians). The dictionary is helpful again here: “financial or other aid provided, esp. by the government, to people in need…Receiving regular assistance from the government or private agencies because of need.” People in need should elicit compassion from us (esp. Christians who seek to follow Jesus). The knee-jerk reaction of contempt comes, I think, from the idea that somehow the majority of people receiving government assistance are taking advantage of the system in some way.

That narrative was fed to the country years ago by President Reagan. I wonder how many of the people who react negatively to the idea of welfare simply repeated in their minds and in their opinions what Reagan chose to capitalize on as he cultivated white America’s fears about poor black folks. Author and historian Jemar Tisby made me aware of this origin story in his book The Color of Compromise: The Truth About the American Church’s Complicity in Racism. Tisby writes:

Reagan was also known for popularizing the term welfare queen, which became an oft-used phrase by the president. He told the story of a black woman from Chicago with ‘80 names, 30 addresses, 12 Social Security cards,’ who gamed the social support system for $150,000 in annual tax-free income. The ‘welfare queen’ became a stand-in for the president’s criticism of an undeserving class of poor people, especially inner-city black women” (Tisby, 169).

Tisby continues with this crucial reminder – crucial because it speaks directly to evangelicals and their lining up behind Trump: “Whatever their intentions, when the Religious Right signed up to support Reagan and his views, they were also tacitly endorsing an administration that refused to take strong stances toward dismantling racism” (Tisby, 169-170). I cannot recommend this book enough, and I can’t stop quoting it. You’ll have to forgive me, though I do hope your interest is piqued so that you’ll read it, too.

The alignment (of Christians with Reagan’s administration) had implications:
“…a stance against welfare led to stereotypes of black people and the poor as lacking in initiative and having no work ethic. As historian James German writes, ‘The welfare state, in the mind of the New Christian Right, undermined the sense of individual responsibility in which public morality rested’” (Tisby, 170).
This alignment also had consequences: these Christians “contributed to the overall perception among black people that Christian conservatives did not care about the concerns of a historically oppressed group” (Tisby, 171). Tisby concludes this chapter (which, by the way, is titled “Organizing the Religious Right”) by stating that it is our responsibility as Christians to “at the very least, consider how the political connections between theologically conservative evangelicalism and conservative politics, namely through the Republican Party, have supported racial inequities” (Tisby, 171).

One of my favorite places to encounter the word “welfare” is in the Bible. Jeremiah 29 is a chapter oft-quoted by various believers for various reasons. Different verses are cherry-picked, whether for decor or quotability or something like a life mantra. In context, it’s a letter from the prophet Jeremiah to all the Israelites that Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon. As a prophet, Jeremiah is authorized to speak on God’s behalf. He’s basically God’s messenger – the person through whom God communicates to his people.

Jeremiah writes to tell the people how they should live and some of what is in store for them. They are encouraged to make their home in this unfamiliar land of exile with their enemy, Babylon. He instructs them to “seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” (Jer. 29:7) Now, I know that I am cherry-picking the word “welfare” here. Yet I think there are things to learn from this verse about how to live as followers of God in a society that was not built with God in mind. We could get caught up in judgment (of the ways that society is not in line with God’s vision for humanity), or we could seek to promote justice and affirm righteousness and seek the good (the well-being, the welfare) of others before our own – even on a societal level.

The idea is that the Israelites wouldn’t have wanted to be friends with the Babylonians. Not only do they differ in their faith, but the Babylonians have captured the Israelites and forcibly removed them from their homeland. I would feel the same way. But God says that in Babylon’s welfare, his people will find their welfare. As they plant themselves wholeheartedly in their new place, in community with the people there, they will start to flourish.

Christians today are individualistic to the highest degree. Even the tendency toward discarding the Old Testament that has cropped up in some segments of Christianity shows a lack of value and understanding for the communal aspects of the Christian life. Yet I think individualism is much more based on and conducive to capitalism than to the faith of the Bible. In this way, Christians are indistinguishable from secular capitalists. And we are supposed to be people of the book – people of the way. Restoration, generosity, and love are our foundation. We leave judgment to the only one who knows all hearts, and we give without expecting anything in return. These are biblical principles to live by. Capitalism values and judges people based on merit, functionality, and essentially a survival-of-the-fittest mentality that seeks and promotes autonomy.

Read Acts or Exodus and then tell me with a straight face that every person must provide for themselves and improve their own lives no matter what circumstances they’re born into. We take passages written to an entire people, like Jeremiah 29, and apply them to specific instances of hope or hardship in our own lives. It’s good to be encouraged by Scripture – that is a wonderful thing. Yet I think in doing so we miss the deeper encouragement and wisdom that is available through a deeper investigation and understanding of the text.

The way that we read is formative. It has implications for how we engage with society and how individualistic or community-oriented we are. These things also make or break our witness to the world around us. The gospel is attractive when people give off the aroma (the vibe?) of Christ, displaying his love and showing up where he would want to work if he were back on this earth: with the humble, without judgment, and full of unconditional love. That is what becomes beautiful and transformative. Jesus changes lives, hearts, circumstances, minds – his love is transformational. Christians who condemn social services or social justice causes are digging an ever-deeper hole, sinking their gospel witness, and making their religion less attractive to the world around them. It’s only a matter of time before the landslide comes and caves it in. I sometimes feel my own religion becoming less attractive…and I’m a believer. I have to return to the pages of the Bible and read the words of God to the world he made and loves. When I do, I find relief, comfort, and truth. God is on the side of justice for the oppressed. He will judge justly, and he will let his love loose on sinners who need him.

“All the world, in our eyes, they will say, was a commodity.”
What can we use for profit? We have created pipelines and drills in the lands and the oceans with little regard for the people, animals, and plants that constitute those environments and rely on them. We have disrupted life cycles and extracted life from the planet (which we term “resources”). The planet continues, enslaved to us, receiving nothing but our ingratitude and continued abuse. We plunder and exploit; oil leaks into the water; smoke surges into the air; glaciers melt because we refuse to slow down. We refuse to accept that our actions have had monstrous consequences.

Do people blind themselves out of self-protection? If what they refuse to believe were true, it would be too devastating to process. So it is much easier to sit up straight behind our desks and emotionally and cognitively act as if that information were either false or nonexistent. People who don’t have to care because they live outside the line of fire simply decide they are not going to care. If one is not personally impacted, then this issue is not important to oneself – it might not even be real. If it is not important to the individual, they have no incentive…nothing compels them to act. But that is the tragedy of life in the United States now. Well, it is one of the tragedies.

“…this structure was held together politically, which it was…”
For one thing, the fossil fuel industry lobbies the government and ignores the humble and human voices of American and Native communities, the advice of environmental experts, and the unfortunate idea that we might have to pursue something other than the most financially profitable outcome.

Our “politics was no more than an apparatus to accommodate the feelings of the heart, and…the heart, in those days, was small, and hard, and full of meanness.”
Thus ends the poem. It is an indictment full of truth, and it is an exquisite last word. But I am expounding on the poem, so I suppose there will be more words now, for better or worse. The poem as a whole reads like the prologue to a book that tells the story of the end of the empire. People act on their gut impulses and their emotional reactions. Even when people have a certain level of power and position in society, it seems they are no closer to objectivity or nuance or an understanding of complexity than the rest of us. Rationality and reason require a depth of understanding and a constant return to the subject in order to suss out nuance and truth, truth, truth.

These have been decapitated by the need to pursue delusions like the equation of feelings with facts or the idea that I am not accountable to my fellow human beings or the notion that corporations are merely economic actors with no effect on human life. Facts are ignored. Wishful thinking takes over. Demonizing, dehumanizing is commonplace. We ignore incongruent opinions. If they are incongruent with reality but congruent with our beliefs, we stick to them. If they are congruent with reality but incongruent with our beliefs, we reject them. The metric we are using is our subjective position. How very postmodern of even the most conservative of us. If we encounter an opinion or belief with which we disagree, we reject or ignore it because we ultimately think there is no reality in which this belief might be based on truth – even the truth of someone else’s lived experience. I cannot see a way out.

That is why Oliver’s words chill me. The truth is that our hearts are hard and deadened and mean. Carry that out, and it is not a redemptive ending. I understand the existential dread many people are feeling. The only hope seems to come in the form of Jesus in our ancient sacred text. It tells the same truth that Oliver tells about human nature. Stories of self-righteousness, injustice, and destruction abound. And yet, God called all that he made “good.” Still, he sent a savior into this world on which we have wreaked havoc. That person came with unconditional love. He was so patient. He maintained the truth to the end. For the people who ignored the signs; the people who chose hatred; and for the self-justifiers he still died. He died to save all the world, and what he got from the world was a criminal’s shameful, cursed death.

This is the only way things will turn around: self-sacrifice. Love your enemies. Rely on God for your life and your justification and for ultimate justice. The only way out is love, and we hate the idea of loving anyone whom we do not think deserves our love, or our time, for that matter. We base that desert on opinions, politics, or whatever measure of merit matters most to us. We have trained ourselves well in the practice of capitalism, then, and our cold indifference to “(other people)…dogs…rivers,” etc., is the natural result. Christians have the chance to look again at what we believe and to act in love and compassion, extending care and understanding and even love to those we would rather hate. Hate is the easy way in our hearts, but it makes the world a fearsome place to be. Unity can be a sentimental ideal, or it can be a real objective that we fight for with grit and hard love. Are we divided? Are we committed to reuniting? Then we will have to move through that division, face the things that tear us apart, and communicate with our enemies in a spirit of love and gentleness. Are our hearts small, and hard, and mean? Yes. But ask the Spirit, and he can transform them and make them big and tender and kind. We can see that meekness is strength in Jesus. What if we followed suit?

scattered, intentional

I’m finding myself scattered more and more. My mind doesn’t feel like a cohesive unit, but pieces trying to remember how they fit together. I want to be writing, but when I sit down to do so, I’m completely blank.

April is significant in three ways that come to mind.

1. My birthday is in April.
2. We’re in the season of Lent, and Easter is coming soon.
3. It’s Spring, finally.

My birthday always sneaks up on me, since March still seems so early in the year, and April marks some changes. It’s transitional. Before April, it feels like the year has just begun. After April, summer comes quickly, and the year is so not new anymore.

I have never wanted to resist getting older. I’ve never wanted to resent aging. I’ve always wanted to embrace it and age gracefully, accepting the reality that we don’t stay young forever. Everything has a season, and every season has something for us. It’s actually our culture that values youth above all. As people approach thirty, it’s apparently time to start freaking out…which I suppose is ridiculous, though I understand the feeling of knowing that your youth is quickly becoming your past.

There is something obviously romantic about being young. There are so many possibilities. When the future is wide open, you can idealize and romanticize forever. When you can only see things continuing as they are, the impact of your choices seems fairly small (though not insignificant). 

I think about the span of my life often. What will it feel like to be fifty or sixty and look back at my 25th year, or my 27th. Will I be able to differentiate? Can I even remember the different years and their own themes now? But the difference between being forty and being sixty will be so great. I’m still far from forty now. Will I even live long enough to find out how it all feels?

I love Spring. I love the anticipation of warmer weather. I love the warmer weather. I love knowing I won’t need a jacket when I go outside. I love breathing in the thick air of a car parked in direct sunlight. I love the occasional chilly or rainy day. And I love life returning as trees and flowers and birds make colors and noise. 

I have been searching my mind to discover what I’ve learned in this last year of my life. I have learned that I am selfish with my time. It comes up so often. I’ve learned how much I still want and need to learn…and have been pretty paralyzed by that. The other things are more personal, I suppose. I don’t want to refer to specific situations, so I’ll just say that I’ve faced some relational stress and seen some relational growth and been forced to mature or at least do very uncomfortable things and hope that they helped me change.

As for Lent, I have barely managed to remember that it’s happening. I say that I want to remember the Christian church calendar and observe the different seasons and holidays in special ways. There’s no time like the present…but I was not quite prepared. This morning, I looked through a few readings from this website: https://www.redeemer.com/learn/resources_by_topic/lenten_devotionals

So, bear with me as I start reflecting.

Lent is the season leading up to Easter – its forty days represent the time that Jesus spent in the wilderness (before he began his public ministry) being tempted by the devil and resisting him. We are supposed to remember our creatureliness – our sin. We are supposed to reflect on the ways we need to repent and draw nearer to God. It’s a time of repentance and humility. Because humans sinned, the world is under a curse. We struggle here. Jesus needed to come to Earth and be cursed to remove the effects of the world’s curse on people who would have faith in him. 

Jesus is the fulfillment of the law and the prophets. He is God himself, and he’s simply a man as well. Just thinking about the fact that Jesus faced the devil, fasted, and was alone with all this for forty days makes me see my inadequacy. I would not have had the strength to persevere. I am guilty and weak. God is holy and righteous – Jesus is perfect. I am sinful. He never sinned. Yet he took the burden for sin that was on me. That doesn’t make any sense.

Back in the day, Israel’s kings were expected to uphold divine standards and exemplify God’s righteousness and obedience to the law. They were supposed to show the people God’s character through their behavior and their rule. Looking back, the Bible is clear that the record is spotty. But Jesus became the ultimate king for God’s people. He didn’t do it the way they expected on Palm Sunday. He cares and loves and rescues. He is holy, righteous, and divine. He is compassionate, and he became one of us so that he knows what it’s like to be tempted, to suffer, to enjoy the world, and to live as a human in the midst of brokenness and beauty.

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.”
Isaiah 61:1-3 NIV

Jesus read from this passage in the temple and declared that these words from the prophet Isaiah were fulfilled in that moment. It’s incredible. God anointed Jesus to bring good news to the poor, to restore prisoners and broken-hearted people to flourishing, and to comfort people in grief and mourning. He brings the ultimate reason to rejoice and celebrate.

In Matthew 4:1-11, Jesus is led to the wilderness to be tempted by the devil, as I’ve mentioned. He fasted for 40 days and 40 nights, mirroring the time that Moses fasted on Mt. Sinai when God was giving him the new tablets with the law written on them (after the first ones were destroyed). So, Jesus is pictured as the new Moses, the new deliverer of God’s people. He will fulfill the law that was given to Moses.

That website that prompted all these readings and reflections was…presumably…created by the author Timothy Keller, so I’ll tentatively attribute this quote to him (though there was no author listed on the page): 

“The good news of the gospel is that Jesus Christ is the contagiously clean man. When he touched a leper, Jesus did not contract leprosy. Rather, the leper became clean. Those trying in vain to remove their sin must allow themselves to be touched by the contagiously clean man. And, like the leper in the story, may we who have experienced that touch possess an uncontainable gratitude, talking freely about our encounter with the contagiously clean man.”

I want to enter this Holy Week with intention. In college, everyone in my Christian community wanted to live “intentionally” and have “intentional” relationships. Now, the main place I hear that word is in the yoga videos I do a couple times a week on YouTube. The teacher reminds me to “set an intention” for my yoga practice. I think it’s time for me to remember the benefits of intentionality in the everyday. If all of life is “practice” for living in God’s kingdom, which is coming in ways even now, then living carelessly is not an option.

unfinished thoughts from current reads

According to my own goals, today is the day I’m supposed to publish a new blog post. For the last couple months, I have had something to work on. In January, it was time to look at the 2018-2019 transition. Last month, I finished up what I wanted to write about politics at the moment. And this morning, my writing time feels like the rest of my month has felt – aimless and apathetic. It’s not that I don’t have anything to write about. I’m reading about five books at the moment…slow going on all of them, of course, because my focus is so scattered. Oh, six – just remembered another one. So, maybe not apathetic. Just pathetic? Just too hyper and interested in too much at once. 

I’m working on a story that I’m not sure I have any way to finish. I’m working on getting back to basics and figuring out what I can write about. I’m working on a poem about an Austen character. I’m working on a family project, collecting stories from my grandma. I’m supposed to be writing a paper for school. But I’m not working on all of those things actively because I don’t have time…my personal writing time is from approximately 8-10 on Sunday mornings. Sometimes it starts at 7 or 7:30 if I went to bed decently early on Saturday. Last night, I did not, and it was “spring forward”, so you know I’m waiting for my coffee to walk through the door as we speak. My lovely husband makes breakfast for me on Sundays so I can just sit at my desk (breakfast angel that he is). And I want this time to be fruitful. 

Yesterday, I finished reading a book for the class I’m currently taking. The book is Walking with God through Pain and Suffering, by Timothy Keller. I took a lot of notes, and I enjoyed it as much as one can when reading about suffering and evil. Keller attempts a lot with the book, and I think he succeeds. He addresses the Christian and the skeptic and the Christian-made-a-skeptic by awful circumstances. He reminds us that Christians *will* suffer and that it shouldn’t be a shock, and he explains why it is shocking for much of his probable audience. 

Historically, cultures have provided answers to the deepest questions of life and have helped people to deal with adversity in meaningful ways. Keller tells us how Western cultures have failed at this. The result is that today, the mainstream secular culture in the U.S. has no satisfactory way to explain or deal with suffering. Suffering is seen as a meaningless waste. People respond to it with anger, hatred, and shock. People of the past were more resilient. Suffering was more commonplace, so people expected it, and their belief systems had a place for it, so it actually could be meaningful. 

But if the material world is all we have (which is the at-least-subconsciously prevailing view), then we are supposed to be as happy as possible and seek pleasure and fulfillment in this life. If that pursuit is met with suffering, how can one explain it or find meaning in it? Suffering is accidental if this world and its people are generally good. Keller describes suffering in this view as an “evil hiccup”- no origin to it, no response to it, no justice for it, no meaning to it, just pain. If every individual is supposed to create the meaning of his/her own life through doing good and feeling good, then suffering can’t be anything but traumatic.

It is also interesting to look at what our (mainstream secular, U.S.) culture offers people to help them deal with suffering. Instead of digging into the deep questions, wading through the suffering and looking for meaning, people are given coping methods. The goal is to get out of the suffering, rise above it, and get through it without feeling pain or asking difficult questions. People are told how to control their immediate responses and their environment. (Stop thinking negative thoughts. Get good at self care and making yourself feel better without feeling any of the bad stuff.) But they miss out on lamenting, growing through the experience, seeing the meaning of suffering in general, joining in Christ’s suffering, and experiencing the hope of the resurrected life. 

Keller shows us the stories of those who lived through extreme suffering in the Bible, including Job, Paul, and ultimately Jesus, to emphasize that suffering has a definite place in Christian history and the Christian life.

Such a short blog post as this certainly wouldn’t do justice to the question of evil in the world or of suffering in human life. I can’t fully relate what God has to say about it and how the Bible beautifully makes sense of it. Keller’s book does a good job. 

The thing I thought about most while reading it was honestly, “Ok, I hear it. I’m going to suffer, and it’s going to be meaningful and make me a better person or at least have a greater purpose even if I can’t see it. So…what is my Big Suffering going to be?” I have always felt a sense of dread…a sense that since we have to suffer, I can’t relax. I can’t rest because I should be on alert for the thing that’s going to try to kill me. So I think the last few chapters of Keller’s book were actually the most applicable to me (not that I needed it to be immediately applicable – it was for class, after all). 

He goes through the things that characterize walking with God through suffering: weeping, trusting, praying, thinking, thanking, loving, and hoping. In the chapter on thinking-thanking-loving, he references Philippians 4:8-9. In it, Paul says, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me – put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.” 

Paul has elsewhere written that he has practiced and learned to be content in any situation. Christian peace doesn’t come just to those who have the natural propensity for being content. It requires us to discipline our thoughts and feelings. We can learn to sense God’s presence and protection and thus know his peace. It was surprising at first to read that thinking, thanking, and loving are disciplines. But as I read, I found it seemed obvious and encouraging.

Seeing these verses in Keller’s book made me smile. I’m reading another book – for my own heart – called All That’s Good, by Hannah Anderson. (I wrote a post last year about another of her books, Humble Roots.) Philippians 4:8 is the foundation for her book, which is about discernment. Six of her chapters focus on things recommended by this verse: whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, and commendable. She used a different translation, but the ideas are the same. This approach to the topic of discernment was initially surprising to me, but now I see that she’s right. When we choose to focus on the things we know to be good and true and we live in pursuit of these things God calls us to prioritize, we will grow in wisdom. God will teach us. He will walk with us, guiding us by his spirit and wisdom in his will for our lives.

Keller calls his readers to think more intensely about the big issues of life so that we will be prepared to face hard times. We need to think out the implications of what we believe. We need to love God above all other things in our lives. We need to see that his glory is greater than the glory we can attain or the glory of any of the best things we have in this life. When we think about truth and righteousness, or about lovely and pure and commendable things, we are going to be thinking about what Jesus has done. We will be drawn to the cross, and we will see God’s work in history and his work in our lives. We will have reasons to glorify him, and we will be humbled. 

We will be restless unless and until we put God at the center of our lives. Audrey Assad has a song called “Restless” in which she says, “I am restless, restless, ‘till I rest in you, ‘till I rest in you, oh God.” I know that this is my pattern. I am restless internally. I look tranquil, and I’m good at putting out those vibes. But I’m restless. I don’t actively rest in God. Jesus should be the center (as that song we sing at my church reminds us) of all, of my life, of the church. When he is, we will be concerned with knowing him and glorifying him. Our need to have a comfortable life, and our need to know we’re making all the right choices will fall to their proper place on our list of priorities. 

politics, part 3: true or false

At this point, I think it is clear that I don’t accept the premise that politics should be kept in a bubble. It applies to other areas of life — that’s why people care about it so much. It’s easy to become passionate when talking about politics. That should tell us both why people want to section it off and why we can’t. Some people want to engage in their daily life and activities without having to think about difficult realities. Some don’t see the ways that they benefit from the status quo, so they think political talk is irrelevant. This last group…I don’t know how to make them care. I’m sure that seeing the way most people engage in politics right now isn’t convincing them to join in. None of us should want political conversations to sideline friendships.

When it comes to sidelining friendships…I think political talk online has taken care of that. Facebook and Twitter are platforms that people use publicly, but it is easy to think that they’re somewhat private places to comment, express views, and argue about them. I have seen some deeply malicious and troubling conversations there. I’m sure friendships have been ruined. There are family members I’m a bit afraid of these days, to be honest. And I’m definitely part of the crowd that has been spending less and less time on Facebook over the last few years.

We can’t section off political talk…because we do care. There’s a reason it all comes out online or in arguments or, say, in a call to boycott the NFL. We can’t section it off because policies do impact life. The personal is really political. I think we see that in things like Trump rallies and the Women’s March. 

I’ve been reading a book of sermons by Dr. King (MLK), called Strength to Love. He deals with the immediate and applicable in every single one. He explores how Christians should live in light of the gospel and in response to injustice. There were plenty of people in his time who wanted to keep those things separate. They wanted to say nice things and be good Christians but keep to themselves about political issues, even in the face of great injustice. I dunno if that sounds familiar…

In Strength to Love, Dr. King says, “Success, recognition, and conformity are the bywords of the modern world where everyone seems to crave the anesthetizing security of being identified with the majority” (12). In his time, this referred to the church’s willingness to be complicit in acts of injustice because they were unwilling to upset the status quo. His entire “Letter from Birmingham Jail” revolved around this issue –  the white church was too patient, too silent, and too complacent. Make no mistake – these churches were engaged in political fights. Dr. King was a pastor and faithful believer, and he was also a political figure engaged in the fight for civil rights. Have white evangelicals still not learned the lessons he fought so hard to teach? His writing is readily available. Maybe if we actually read it cover-to-cover, rather than in token memes once a year, the message would start to get through.

This week, my local public radio station hosted a conversation about religious “nones” and why this is a growing group in our city. Specifically, they discussed why people are leaving religious institutions behind and what that looks like in a lot of people’s lives. So many people have found the Christian church to be off-putting for a variety of reasons. Sometimes their honest questions about life and their doubts about faith were met with criticism and fear, rather than love and conversation. Sometimes the alignment of the Church with the Right led people to believe they couldn’t hold their personal/political convictions and also stay a Christian. The issues were so simplified that people didn’t think they had a choice. There has to be room for nuance. It’s so important. People will walk away.

I’m currently in a class called “Common Objections to the Christian Faith,” and I’m so glad we’re going to explore the deepest questions and doubts that people bring up in relation to Christianity. The ones we will cover in detail include the problem of suffering and evil; the idea that God wants to interfere in our personal lives; the idea that God has something to say about human sexuality; and the reasons for prayer. I have had or still wrestle with some of the same questions myself. But for the ones I’ve never asked, I need to know the heart behind the questions, and I need to be confident of my answers – that they are true and that they’re helpful. 

Christians will only become increasingly irrelevant over time in the eyes of the generally irreligious. (Perhaps the same is true of people of faith as a whole…though I doubt it because people tend to advocate for Muslims and Jews – as they should when these groups are threatened.) But if I could speak to the people who want to write Christians off, I would remind them that it’s dangerous to start writing off groups of people. Remember what it feels like when people write you off for something that’s part of your personal identity. Remember that no group is a monolith – there is nuance everywhere. Know this: “The desire for community is so strong in the human heart that when shared facts and values don’t unite us, we will find consensus through shared emotional or subjective reality. We will retreat into tribes that validate our own experiences and form community around these biases and identities. And when this tribal or party identity is threatened, we will respond, not from carefully considered decisions made for the common good, but from a place of insecurity.” – Hannah Anderson in All That’s Good, pg. 70

This is happening all the time. People have taken their sides, and they’ve mounted attacks. They’ve written off everyone who doesn’t know exactly what they know and think exactly how they think and come to the exact same conclusions. Bear with me in another long quote from a different book: “In the U.S….staunch Democrats and hard-core Republicans hear the same data but, predisposed to interpreting them differently, they walk away with opposing conclusions. In an fMRI study conducted at Emory University prior to the 2004 presidential election, Democrats and Republicans were given a reasoning task in which they were to evaluate damaging information about their own candidate. Notably absent among the subjects involved in this study was any activation of the neural circuits implicated in conscious reasoning once they were confronted with the damaging evidence. The researchers concluded that emotionally biased reasoning leads to the ‘stamping in’ or reinforcement of a defensive belief, associating the participant’s ‘revisionist’ account of the data with positive emotion or relief and elimination of distress. The result is that partisan beliefs are calcified, and persons can learn very little from new data” (119). This quote is from Body, Soul, and Human Life by Joel Green. That article is called “Neural Bases of Motivated Reasoning…” from the Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience 

This shows us the most dangerous thing – that if we don’t learn to respect and listen to those with whom we disagree, we will fail to see their side even when they are correct! When that happens, truth doesn’t matter anymore. Journalists talk about how we’re in a “post-truth” world, and that’s basically what postmodernism stands for, but the absence of any truth is a sad, chaotic mess that won’t allow us to live together for long. 

Anderson writes, “Communities [are] coming apart at the seams – not simply because we can’t agree on what is good and valuable, but because we can’t even agree on what is true anymore” (66). This is one of the main reasons why I think our current president is not merely objectionable but actually dangerous. He encourages people to choose which facts to believe and which ones to deny. He makes people believe that by saying, “that’s not true,” you can make something false…even when it’s a fact. He makes people believe that true journalism is suspect and that the sensational is to be trusted. He doesn’t care what is true – he cares about what looks the best for him and about making people believe he is right. 

As a Christian, I am deeply invested in the notion of truth. I believe that my faith is based in something real – an historical person, historical events, and a living God. If something is true, then it isn’t just true for the person who believes it’s true. It’s actually true…real…in existence. If NPR published an article saying that Kamala Harris announced her presidential candidacy, as they did on January 20th, then we all know that Kamala Harris is going to run for president next year. This is something true. If you choose not to believe it because you think NPR is fake news, then you are actually wrong. She is actually running for president, whether you believe it or not. Now, this is a simplified example. No one has actually denied that Harris – or any of the millions of people announcing their run for president – has actually made such an announcement. But truth really is that basic. Something either is or it isn’t. I’m either alive, or I’m not. If I’m alive, it would be factually false to call me dead. Jesus either lived, or he didn’t. He either rose, or he didn’t. 

You can’t let me believe “my truth” without responding to it…without either denying that it’s true or accepting that it’s true. Our perspectives and beliefs actually affect other people, and theirs impact us, whether we like this or not. We aren’t islands. We at least have to acknowledge that contradictory truths call one another false. This is so clear when it comes to politics. I wish it were so clear in terms of spiritual and religious beliefs. I think people are afraid of disagreement there because of the terrible things brought about by such disagreements in the past. We need to find a way to talk with people who believe differently than we do without calling them stupid, but actually trying to understand their worldview and interacting with it critically, as a valid contender for truth. This is what I need to commit to as a Christian seeking to respect everyone I come in contact with. This is what I would hope others would do when interacting with me. It can be hard to look another person in the eyes and see that they are human, flawed and amazing. It can be hard to remember that I am just like you. But it’s true. We are not that different, after all.

2019 is just another day.

For the last few years (I think?), I’ve been writing a January blog-post reflection about the previous year. Each year, it feels a little more forced to sit and write reflectively about a whole year’s worth. Lately, I’ve felt less like the end of the year is a transitional period. It’s an artificial divide between December 31st and January 1st, and we’re supposed to mark the time with revelations about who we are and who we want to be. It did feel that way to me before — I used to really experience the transition as a before-and-after. This year in particular has been different. I’ve been sort of in the middle of some relational and inner tension and uncertainty for a few months, and the start of the new year was somewhere in the middle of that story. Nothing felt concluded, and nothing new was coming. So, I didn’t have any wise words of reflection to share with the world…I mean, all 4 strangers who read this blog. 

I did watch John Green’s video about his method for starting the new year with reflections and goals. He writes himself a letter about the previous year and what he would like to see going forward. He makes SMART goals (things that are Specific, Measurable, Attainable… well, he needed an acronym because no one would make SMA goals). So, I wrote myself a letter, and that opened the floodgates. I ended up with several categories of goals: spiritual, mental/emotional, physical, relational, environmental, and lifestyle/misc. Nine pages later, I felt like I had processed something and given myself something. I had to name the SMART goals and the more general goals and narrow them down into something more like two pages long. I’ve never been a goal-oriented person in this way. I’ve generally made one or two new year’s resolutions, and I’ve stuck to them. I can make a decision to start doing something or give up something (for New Year’s, Lent, etc.) and stick to it. But when teachers would ask us to make goals in school…or I’ve been asked about career goals…I have had no idea what to do or say. I’m also just noticing that there’s no category for school/career amongst the goals I listed here. Because I clearly have no freaking idea what I’m doing. Let’s move on.

I’m not going to post these extensive “goals” because I think that might be kind of boring for you, and it would be boring for me to write them all out again in this format. They’re personal and specifically geared toward my own growth and movement. I am just thinking now about what my goals and purpose for this blog will be this year. My only SMART goal is to post once a month. (Is that enough, or do I want to have a theme?) I like to dive deep into a topic and get my head around it enough to write a contribution to the conversation. That’s my jam. And that’s what I feel like my politics posts have been an initial attempt to do…though still more shallow and general than I’d like. And I’ve obviously got more work to do on the next one(s).

I find that I can write better and more clearly when I don’t think anyone is going to read what I’m writing. Maybe that’s why I haven’t posted the link to each post on Facebook, while I do share them on Instagram. I usually get about four clicks from Instagram — people like my insta-post, but they don’t go read the blog. That’s predictable and understandable and disappointing at the same time. Because lots of people convey interest or say they’d like to read it or tell me I should keep writing. But I feel like a schmuck writing and writing and writing for nobody and pretending like I have an audience. If no one is interested, is this a completely selfish endeavor? If so, then what’s the point? 

I’ll be sitting on that one for a little while. For now, I’m going to read. A published book. By an author who’s doing it. And think about what it means to write “privately” or like normal writers have for the past hundreds of years.  

politics, part 2: (un)patriotic

Welcome to part 2 – if you read part 1 first, this will all make more sense. There should be a link to the right, or if you’re on the general blog page, just scroll down.

If you’re a Christian (or familiar with my blog), you might be wondering how I’m going to bring this subject around to faith and how I think Christianity and the political sphere interact. I want to do that a little bit today and more in part three.

Now, I want to talk about the thing that originally made me want to write about this. That is the NFL players’ peaceful protest of police violence against – and murders of – black people. They chose to kneel during the national anthem. Whether you agree that that was a “good move” or not, it is completely strange to dismiss the whole thing as “unpatriotic” and attack Colin Kaepernick, et. al. by going after their character and being unkind (which is how I perceived the general response of NFL fans). 

When I heard about the players’ actions, it was clear to me what they were protesting. I try to stay generally aware of what’s going on in the news/issues of injustice, and I live in a place that’s gotten national attention for racial issues. It would have been a bit strange for me not to understand. However, if I hadn’t been aware, I would have been curious. My general reaction when I “don’t get it” is to investigate. I would have wondered about the players’ motives and intentions, done some research, and figured it out. They have a right to express their opinions. One would think that kneeling peacefully could be an acceptable form of protest. 

The personal was political for the kneeling football players. They didn’t feel the option of keeping their politics out of their sports. Their very identities as men of color make them more vulnerable than others to police violence. They had the guts to stand (by kneeling) against police brutality and against political rhetoric that they saw as threatening to American ideals. They did so in this public way that was sadly misunderstood by most of their fans. What would it have cost their fans to say, “Wow, they must be going through a lot to do something so big and public. How horrible that this is an issue. I need to learn more.” What would it cost fans to respect players as human beings? Realize that it’s not just fantasy football – it’s real life…

American patriotism is a COMPLICATED thing. It has always been complicated for me personally. Growing up, I was an unrelenting pacifist. I could not comprehend the idea of war – it seemed neanderthalic and stupid. (I still don’t fully get it, but I understand that it’s a part of our world that’s not going away.) At the same time, my dad was in the U.S. Army. I had to grapple with the fact that his whole job revolved around the idea of war. Eventually (after 9/11), he was deployed to fly helicopters in the war in Iraq. I was afraid for his safety and for my family. I was afraid to ask him what he’d done and seen. I understood that war was profoundly sad, destructive, and traumatizing. My dad was never an ultra-patriot in the sense of being excited about war or touting his role as heroic, etc. So, it has always seemed strange to me that the most patriotic among us glorify the military and love that they fight (quite literally) for our country. I used to protest in my own small way. I would stand for the anthem (and as an Army kid, I heard it more than a lot of people), but I wouldn’t sing it. (Sometimes, I wouldn’t put my hand over my heart. *gasp*) 

Brief aside: I’ve always wondered why in the world we play the national anthem at sporting events – and random other events for that matter. The local outdoor theater where I live plays the anthem before plays and musicals… I’m confused about it. Turns out, it was first sung in settings like this around World War I, but even then it had not become the official national anthem. Decades went by before it was played everywhere for all variety of events. Here’s an article about it from the History Channel’s website – https://www.history.com/news/why-the-star-spangled-banner-is-played-at-sporting-events
Suffice it to say that we don’t actually need this practice, and everyone would be fine without it. It’s the National Football League, after all. If it were international, I guess I could understand playing each team’s national anthem (as they do in the World Cup). As it is…I don’t see the point. *steps off soap box*

It’s complicated to be a “proud American.” I would add “these days,” but I think it has always been complicated. That just hasn’t always been acknowledged. People are using their voices to point out how complicated it is, and that’s a good thing. Many in the U.S. have assumed that we have conquered the moral high ground in the world for so long. We’ve been on the right side of history in some big ways in more recent memory. And when we talk about the times we were on the wrong side, there’s sort of an “everybody was doing it” mentality… For example, we learn vocabulary terms like “colonialism”, “manifest destiny”, and “underground railroad” in history class, but we don’t lament the way that our ancestry involves the colonization and genocide of a land and its people. Our ancestry involves slavery, and we’ve inherited a persistent racism. Our ancestors did have some actual good ideas, which have become the best parts of living in the United States today. Yet, some of their ideas were deeply flawed, and so are many things about our history as a nation. 

We didn’t learn much about our country’s internment camps in school. 

We tend to think that the family separation issue is “over” because it’s not coming through the news cycle the way it was a couple months ago. 

etc.

I think real patriotism is NOT a look back at a country that we think has done everything right. Real patriotism involves hoping that we can continue to improve as a nation, using everything good that we have to the best ends possible. It is a celebration of the values of democracy and freedom. It is a desire to unite as a people in order to make our country a great place to live, a welcoming place to visit or immigrate, and a peaceful place of asylum. We should acknowledge the flaws in the system and in the individual, facing them without deflecting. That’s the only way we can ultimately move forward. I do want to be proud of my country, but I need it to be a place we can all be proud of. Until then, I’m not afraid to say that I’m disappointed, and I don’t feel very patriotic most of the time. But I am grateful to live in a place where change is possible, and you and I have the ability to suggest, create, and vote for those changes.

I hope you don’t hear me saying that we should put all our trust in the political system, as if the government will save us from all ills. Of course I don’t believe that’s possible. I know there are flaws, and I know it is not the highest authority to which we answer. However, I think it’s a complete cop-out to say that the church should be the exclusive place Christians are doing all their good in the world. It isn’t the only place we’re allowed to act as Christians. We’re actually supposed to be the hands and feet of Christ in all spheres. I love the church, and I want it to be doing so many things for the world, but I believe Jesus said something about the fact that the people of God are in the midst of the world…

“I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.” (John 17:14-18)

I’ve often heard Christians use this phrase: “Be in the world but not of it.” This can convey the idea that Christians should stand out as particularly moral and good people. We shouldn’t just do what everyone around us is doing – we need to do the right thing, and we follow Christ, so sometimes that will look super weird to the rest of the world. We should be distinct morally, ethically, and lovingly. However, we do lose something when we focus on the idea of being separate. We lose a lot of what Jesus was actually saying. He does not ask that we be taken out of the world. We’re not supposed to separate ourselves, contrary to how lots of Christians have lived. Many have used this idea to validate seclusion.

Jesus is saying that we are made for the new heaven and earth that are coming but that we are here now for a reason. He has sent us INTO the world. My ultimate hope is in God. My ultimate home is with him, and the church (at large – not a particular church or denomination) is the primary institution with my loyalty. That doesn’t mean that I’m not a participant in other institutions. Shouldn’t I be active, concerned, and helpful? Isn’t education important to me? Don’t I earn and spend money? Don’t I want justice to be done? The phrase “on earth as it is in Heaven” comes to mind.

So, we need some nuance.
Don’t be of the world: Don’t be hateful, vitriolic, and ultra-partisan. Recognize the need for truth and unity.
Be in the world: Use your voice for healing and justice. Do what you can. 

I think it’s interesting that people don’t view certain areas of life as having political import. It turned out that many NFL fans were quite conservative. It is interesting that these fans care about the many black men who play on their football teams when it comes to statistics and game days. Yet when those same black men started asking their fans to wake up and look at the injustice in our country, they were hated, shunned, and attacked. They were using their voices in the largest arena (literally) to which they had access, but their fans could only see people refusing to stand and salute the flag (committing the most anti-American, unpatriotic act of all, in their eyes). Fans didn’t take the time to ask questions and listen to the answers. If they had, maybe one group of people would have gained a little more understanding about another. The players’ peaceful protest was also a form of patriotism — they wanted more from this country and for it, and they knelt in the hope of something better.

There’s more to come. This concludes part 2 (because it’s going to get too long again). 🙂

Recommendations:
The music I’ve been listening to during writing time these days: Otis Redding, Leon Bridges. I had a trial of Amazon Music until recently, and their playlist “100 Greatest Classic Soul Songs” was the BEST.
Book I just finished reading – An Absolutely Remarkable Thing, by Hank Green (Remember him? His video was in my last post. His book is good! I’m sure I’ll be quoting it here soon enough.) 

politics, part 1: something to say…

Most of my blog posts come from the things I can’t stop thinking about – things that nag at my mind until I realize I have something to say. I have friends who look at the world of blogs and podcasts and social media and ask whether just “having something to say” is enough to make you worth listening to. I totally see where they’re coming from. I definitely think there’s a certain amount of vetting that individuals these days have to do in order to determine that the content they consume is actually valuable (and that it’s not actually Russian…). It’s a lot…but I do think that a little research makes it pretty clear which podcasts/blogs are worth your time.

What makes me qualified? Well, not much. I have an English degree and a definite concern for writing WELL. Lots of people seem to think that throwing words together and using flowery language and incomplete sentences is the best writing style. It makes me roll my eyes, to be honest. Overall, our commitment to using language well is not great…thanks, Twitter (& sometimes published authors…). This doesn’t mean the content of what people have to say is always bad, but I think there is something valuable about being able to say things with a proper use of the English language, which has rules for communication reasons. I think it’s beautiful. It seems unfair to the people who use it properly when others completely disregard the linguistic eloquence that’s possible when you TRY. So, perhaps I think that “having something to say” is NOT enough…if you don’t have the tools to say it well. That goes against all-self-expression-all-the-time, which is what people generally do these days.

On the other hand, the skeptics I’m thinking about are mainly concerned about the qualifications people have to speak on particular topics, not necessarily about their skills behind the keyboard/microphone (when it comes to podcasts). What makes me qualified there? Well, I can’t say that I have experience and knowledge about the breadth of topics that I’m interested in writing about. I made an extensive list the other day when I was having a decision-making crisis trying to figure out what to write that particular day. There are so many things I constantly want to learn more about. I like to write about the things I’m learning in order to process and synthesize my thoughts into something cohesive to share. So, I don’t have expertise on these (just some of the topics I went into): the criminal justice system, gender, education, US history, housing, immigration, literacy, introversion, socialization, and aging. However, I do keep myself from writing about these subjects until I have done some more self-education. That’s why you haven’t seen a blog post about these things. That’s why I often stick to writing about whatever I’m reading or concepts I’m thinking about while keeping it fairly informal. I’m not trying to put myself out there as a qualified expert. I’m writing about things I find interesting while trying to learn more about the world and my place in it. It’s my way to process, and others have told me that they’ve found my writing helpful.

Yikes, I really went hard from my soap box just now. ALL THAT said, I have “something to say” about the idea that people don’t want politics with their [fill-in-the-blank]. I started writing about it and ended up with about 3,000 words…and I’m not done. That’s why this is “Part 1” – there are more parts to come. FYI: this will end somewhat abruptly. 🙂

I’m not a political scientist, journalist, politician, or even a local political advocate. But I am a citizen, and all citizens are affected by politics. We all influence politics, whether we want to or not. That’s part of the reason why it’s important. It isn’t everything, and I think too many people make it their everything. That is the idea that many people react against by saying they don’t like politics. I don’t think it’s healthy to make politics your main focus, source of hope, or even source of conversation. At the same time, it’s an ignorant and sometimes privileged decision to say you don’t care about politics and to choose not to participate in the political system. 

So, people say that they don’t like politics with their sports, entertainment, work, etc. It’s the same sort of attitude you find in people who say, “I don’t like politics,” or “Why does everything have to be political?” I’m not sure what these people think politics is. Do you think we can just avoid it and never talk about issues and values and how to run our lives in this country? Do you never interrogate your own perspective? Do you know anyone with a different perspective? Do you talk about ideas? Do you think that what happens in our country has no bearing on your life? Do you understand that we have a responsibility for the lives of others? These are the thoughts that flood into my head right away, but I will take a step back and calm down.

It’s a real novice-writer move to come in with the dictionary definition of a word, but that’s what I’m inclined to do here. Get ready – it will be cringeworthy. At the same time, I think exploring this question (what is politics?) will help & encourage those inclined not to listen to another argument about how political life is important. According to the online version of the Oxford dictionary, politics refers to “The activities associated with the governance of a country or area, especially the debate between parties having power.” 

There was a phrase that came out of the second-wave feminist movement that says “the personal is political.” The general idea is that personal and social matters are discussed in the political sphere – and that personal lives are directly impacted by politics. You can look it up – it has its own wikipedia page… 

The last component I want to add to this discussion is the whole concept of identity politics. This term has been used for a long time, but it seems to be especially prevalent these days, and it plays a significant role. It’s basically the natural political outworking of the progression of individualism in American culture. It definitely has its relevant moments.

Ok, so politics broadly involves these things:

• governance of an area (in the U.S., country/state)
• groups with different values and ideas about how this governance should be done (parties)
• social and personal matters being governed (welfare, sexuality, etc.)
• discussion of how best to govern (policymaking)

INTERLUDE (interrupting my thoughts with something recent):

There is nothing like violence to bring this subject to the forefront for me. At the time I started writing, we had just heard that exploding devices were being sent to prominent members of the Democratic party. Political orientation was what all these recipients had in common, and they were targeted by someone who wanted to hurt them, presumably because of their beliefs. The following weekend, the news was even worse – lives were successfully taken. Jewish people gathered at a synagogue in Philadelphia were killed by an antisemitic gunman, simply for being who they were and practicing their religion. 

Antisemitism has a much longer, deeper history than our country’s partisan hatred, of course. Yet both of these recent events have been devastating and sobering. Our president’s reactions to them have been…less than satisfactory. I literally cannot watch or listen to him speaking in times like these because it’s upsetting. He doesn’t seem particularly broken up by evil. He won’t recognize what is happening: terror being perpetrated by Americans on fellow Americans. (He needs to check his statistics before he says one more word about the migrant caravan.)

Here are a couple of quotes from articles by NPR’s Shannon Van Sant on the subject:

“On his way to Air Force One on Saturday afternoon, President Trump addressed the shooting, remarking that if there were an armed guard inside the temple, the shooter might have been stopped. He also suggested that bringing ‘the death penalty into vogue’ would help deter such attacks.”

“According to the Anti-Defamation League, the number of reported anti-Semitic incidents in the United States surged 57 percent in 2017, the largest rise in a single year since the A.D.L. began tracking such crimes in 1979.”

The president was insensitive to respond instinctively toward the issues in order to cast himself in a particular light. He later commented that it’s unimaginable to think that antisemitism exists in this day and age. That really fell flat for me. For one thing, that’s an ignorant statement. At the very least, the huge Nazi/KKK incident in Charlottesville happened during his tenure…has he already forgotten about that? (He’s certainly ignoring it.)

What would it have cost him to say this has been a horrible incident; it shouldn’t have happened; and antisemitism is evil? What would it have cost him to take a day off from being so divisive that he had to place the blame on the people at a NORMAL RELIGIOUS GATHERING for not having ARMED SECURITY?? Excuse me…I’ve never been to a church with armed security, and I would find it extremely odd. I would find it terribly offensive if, after a shooter murdered members of my church, the president of my country suggested that if we had only protected ourselves better, we might have avoided such a situation. WHAT?! What about the fact that this hateful person should never have had the ability and opportunity to carry out this massacre in the first place? It’s that man’s fault that this happened. Perhaps there are other layers of fault as well, but it is certainly not the victims’ fault.

I’m going to post a recent vlogbrothers video here, so please watch it!! Hank Green talks about the president’s problematic partisan ways. Just one of many similar good things to watch/read/listen to recently.

“When you have the power of the office of the President of the United States behind you, there are things you shouldn’t say because they attack the foundations of the country.” (Hank – see video)

End Interlude…
(more later)

Recommendations:
Podcast: St. Louis on the Air, Episode from Thursday, 11/1 (“NPR’s Peter Sagal: On the obligation to be funny, Jewish identity, new book…”) 25 mins. If I ever needed a reason to be a public radio nerd in love with Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me…

Podcast: The Daily Show Ears Edition – Episode from 10/31 (“Between the Scenes – Trump’s Most Powerful Tool Is Wielding Victimhood”) 3 mins. Yes, that Daily Show – with Trevor Noah.

Artist/album: Hush Kids (self-titled album)