Lull

I haven't written in a while.  Sometimes a lull occurs and I am grateful.  Not that things have been bad or perfect, or even dull.  Just relative peace in my mind and life.  I'm actually inspired back to write by a chance comment from an unknown reader.  But I don't know where this will go.

Holidays are finally over and it takes several months to recover some normalcy.  Some things never come back.  I wonder how many things, good or bad, are lost because of the American Holiday Season.  Some people like the change.  I think they wait all year to do the things they do in that season.  But I don't.  I don't see life as that long.  Truthfully, it isn't a conscious decision, just the way I am made: I see multiple pathways in everything and that includes the negative.  I may very well not have another opportunity, so I take them where they come.  This melds into and shapes my worldview to do only what God asks of us in the moment that he asks.  It's a curious chicken/egg, Daoish, paradox of influence.

But anyway, the point is, I do all year things that most reserve for the one time a year.  Therefore when the holidays come and everyone stops doing what they normally do for some unexplained cultural reason, my life grinds to a halt.  After 3 months of that, people (including myself) have forgotten what we were doing before that time and have to start all over.  What is recalled takes months to ramp up momentum.

In other news, my hand and wife are healing, so even more activities that have been on hold are slowly coming back.  Really, I think if it wasn't for these lulls, more would be accomplished.

Another factor contributing to the lull is that we finally completely dropped a major source of irritation and provocation...namely the church we've been going to for many years.  Being someone who commits slowly and moves circumspectly, I am also slow to completely drop something.  I keep trying and biding until all remnant of good is squeezed out of something and the one last straw falls.

The long and short is, I'm now much happier in that regard.  We've started checking out another place which is a very different character, yet not entirely alien.  I have no intention of jumping in too heavily, and anyone who wants to argue that I should do otherwise is welcome to step to.  I'll challenge anyone to walk in my shoes for a while and tell me they'd do otherwise.  Same goes for anyone who says you shouldn't change churches because we're all flawed.  I know where they're coming from.  I've been them before.  Just keep jawing what you don't know...you'll see.  And if not, then our paths are different and all the best on yours.

Seriously, I wish people would think a little more before they start spouting advice.  Does anyone ever really give good advice?  I remember hearing a friend whose job included listening to people's problems say he was done giving advice.  I thought I understood, but thought he was taking it too far.  Surely sometimes we know what someone else doesn't, I thought.  But now, I'm starting to see his point more clearly.  We are never in exactly the same place as another.  we might be passing nearby, but our lives come from and are going to different places, making it very difficult to ever truly tell someone else what to do with any accuracy.  Further, too many people can't see them selves clearly enough, or refuse to admit their own reality, to even see what wisdom you might offer.

I recently had a friend call me repeatedly (I have to tell him I HATE the telephone) to try to get "advice" but each time I clearly saw what he wanted to do and that he was just looking for an excuse to say he'd talked it over even though he'd really already made up his mind.  Self deception at it's finest.  And this is a smart and relatively good, well-adjusted person!

No, I think the best we can do is listen and reflect, perhaps share a story or thought sparked by what they say and maybe help each other discern our own paths at the moment.

Peace and Action

Peace is not lack of activity.  Action is not lack of peace.  I fear that committing to peace will make me soft.  But I know this is not true. 

It's not a new dynamic entirely.  I remember shedding hate years ago in a moment of bright flash, I realized that I was wasting so much energy on hating things and people.  I thought it was justified, righteous even, to hate what was evil.  I dropped it right then and there.  I was walking through Ybor City one afternoon before it was turned into a seedy party spot. (Contrary to popular belief, it was actually safer then...full of people like me and we got along for the most part, but that's another entry.)

But even that wasn't fully dropped.  I found lingering elements of hate locked away deep inside me.  Levels below the first set.  These only surfaced years later.  I probably wrote about it here, but don't remember.

So, I know how this works somewhat. But I'm unsure of how to walk it out.  How do I interact with people when the scripts I know are all strategies and battle plans?  Is there any reference to draw upon?  Sources for new scripts?

There are a few.  The Practice of the Presence is one.  Uncle George has a few too.  But in my own life and time, I have some.  I remember a time when I was all about actions to give a little wonder and joy.  Like an imp spreading good mischief, I was always looking for a way to surprise people with a little Amelie-style goodness, far before that movie, lest anyone think I copied it.  It may be time to resurrect these to some extent.  I'd stand in a crowd and say hi to people then give a dollar to whoever greeted me back.  I'd slip up behind some random acquaintance and slide some jewelry around her neck.  Pay for someone's meal behind me and walk away.  Climb into scenic overlooks and wave frantically back at people, swinging from a tree or some other feature.  (People always cracked up at this.)  Strike up conversations with strangers as if I knew them, never letting them tell me they didn't know me.  Physical clowning was always great.  Run into something, get sprayed in the face, dive into a sand trap on a golf course and then rake out all the prints but the body shape.  One I never did, but saw in an obscure movie years later and wished I had: buy objects at thrift stores with people's names on them and secretly deliver them to people with those names. 

Perhaps I never fully gave them up.  But I have largely lost this sensibility.  I think it's the slow dulling grind of daily routine that wore it away.  But I think these are seeds of a new mode of activity.  One which defuses and brightens, instead of stokes and obscures.

Man of Peace

Sometimes things get away from us before we notice them.  I'm convinced most bad things start as good ideas that get perverted in the application...probably by small unnoticeable steps.  I recently found myself being quite tense and angry.  Every little thing began to bother me.

Fortunately, I rather quickly realized that it wasn't a problem with the entire world, but with me.  Among the quite probable multiple errors I made in this, one I noticed was that I felt as if I was resisting a constant tide.  It was me standing strong, fighting forward, alone against the fray...metaphorically, in my mind.

Like I said, I don't think this is wrong in itself.  I think we need more people who stand up for what is right, demand that as far as their influence reaches, things are done well and honestly.  The probelm is this is very tiring, alienating, stressful.

The truth is, I don't have to fix everything, including myself.  In fact, I have to fix nothing.  The yoke should be easy, and the burden light, not the opposite.  Funny how fighting to take off burdens becomes a burden in itself.

But I don't want to dwell on the principles, I want to talk about the specifics in this case.  I am laying down my arms.  I have misunderstood the militaristic imagery of the Bible in my own way.  I have realized that I can't be any kind of hard-minded.  This includes how I think of myself.  I am shedding the Holy Knight's armor for the friar's habit.  I no longer want to be the warrior monk, not even the standoffish Ranger exuding a watchful quiet that whispers of latent danger.  I want to be Brother Elias and Lawrence.  Bombadil.  Unaffected by the churning of the world. 

I don't mean to close myself off to the world, but to approach it differently.  I had become so focused on defending my flock that I lost sight of the fact that the flock isn't in any real danger.  Not circumstantially, but existentially, catagorically.  They are safe because they have been removed from the possibility of harm.

I love the epic story so much, it's easy to cast myself in that light.  But the truth is, the danger has been eliminated.  Truthfully, there never was any real danger.  God has always been in control, nothing occurs outside his will, and even the most dastardly schemes to do harm are woven back beyond impotence to actually work good and the will of the Father.  This is the Gospel.  The world is restored.

The people I most admire overcame terrible circumstances and even walked into horrific death, not as steely gladiators, afraid of nothing, but as simple people so convinced that the world had been set right that even their present suffering was not a blip on their radar.

This is who I want to be.  And I can't do that with my fist clenched and my fangs bared.  So I'm laying down my guard, laying down my weapons.  I'm sure there is a place for those feelings, but I can't use them right now.  They are too tainted, carry too much possibility of consuming me.  So while I may still feel those urges, I am offering myself up to a new perspective and can only pray that I do not go the way of Mendoza in the Mission.  I want to be a man of peace.

What this means for me is that I will not associate myself with or flood myself with images of fighting.  I will not style myself that way any more.  My physical training will shift: rather than preparing to face the foe, to be ready to snatch the helpless from the jaws of the beast, I will move out of joy and celebration.  I will look for and acknowledge the good.  I am choosing a path of peace...not pacifism, but understanding conflict, it's roots, and moving beyond it.  I have to learn to let God fight for me and not the other way around.  I think I'll find that there will be no fight to have because all the variables are in God's control.

I'm sure this makes little sense and is far too internal to be of much use to anyone else.  But this is the key to my cage.  I'm opening the door and walking out to find it was never locked.

Cages

A couple of things are rolling around in my head.  One has to do with joy.  What is it?  I've read the definition, but it seems inadequate.  Maybe I've just not experienced it.  I know peace (which is an inner quiet).  I know happiness (which is dependent on circumstances).  But I can't say I've ever known an abiding gladness...Perhaps I have, there was a time I think I had it.  Things weren't perfect, but I just seemed to be glad, positive, most of the time.

Though, it seems this had much to do with the circumstances, which would pull it into the realm of happiness, right?  I distinctly remember frustrations and difficulties then, so I know this isn't a rosy memory (though I don't have those anyway).  Truly, I tend to see always the bad, so to remember a time of happiness that was longer than fleeting is something.

Just recently, I have felt a deep need for joy.  I even almost felt it yesterday, but it escaped me before I could fully feel it.  It was like a shadow of it, or a snatch of music heard indistinctly.  And then it was gone.

This transitions nicely into the other thing in my head...I'd wondered how they would relate.  I have blogged previously about my naturally darker nature.  I have to accept it.  I have tried to change it, ignore it, etc.  But it is part of me, and this is not necessarily a defect.

So what stands in my way?  I think it has to do with cages, fetters.  I despise them.  I hate being tied down or restricted.  Not all restrictions; some are necessary, I know that.  But the unnecessary tangles of life, those I hate.  Mortgages, bills, tenuous family obligations.  These are drudgery and torture.  Give me one day when I am stuck at home with nothing to do and unable to leave because of something like, my son is out playing and too young to leave alone...and I'm prowling the floors like a tiger, looking for anything to occupy the restlessness.  Read, watch pointless TV; this only goes so far.  Sleep; that too only covers so much.  This is why I make so many things with my hands...anything to occupy my mind when I can't go and do. 

My wife seems to like those times.  Relaxing, she calls it.  It's torture.  I want to rip the walls down.  Sometimes I'll go outside, but I'm surrounded by acres and acres of more little cages with small caged streets and bigger caged streets and fences, all hemming me into this world of cushy padded nothing.

Granted, it is good to be safe and secure.  This is a blessing I would not withhold from anyone.  I think what is missing in it is meaning.  Real depth.  Challenge.  I am so in love with adventure stories, books, movies.  I want to be swept away on some quest or mission.  I want every moment to feel vibrant and real.  Then when I return home, I'll want to be here.  To rest and enjoy the peace.  But eventually to go back out into the world again.

I do not pretend to have missed my calling.  I am what I should be, or on the journey toward it.  But at times like these, especially around holidays when I am sitting around endlessly, it gets to me.  I want my family to join me.  But they are not that type.  I can't make my wife into what she is not.  My son will join some, but is also content to sit and putter.

I work my life to be as free as possible, but everywhere, people throw fetters on.  We're not good citizens if we aren't chained down a hundred ways.  And so I sit, and prowl, and make something, and prowl.  I may even get fed up and disappear for a short time, but the chains of responsibility will pull me back again.

I will step out on the road and wish for something to happen that breaks the chains.

Actually...I think I've just hit something else.  My anxiety from being around other people comes precisely because I am so looking for this kind of life.  I feel like the Ranger sitting cloaked in the corner, ever watchful, ever ready to strike, to move, to go.  But outside is nothing but padded walls and fat docile pets.  With expectation of something more and no where to direct it, everywhere becomes a source of irritation, anxiety.  It's like the tiger who attacks the one who feeds it, or an innocent bystander.  I just want out of the cage.

Power

Power can never be taken.  It can only be given.  This is absolutely true.  To understand it, though, we have to understand power.

Merriam-Webster defines it as 1. ability to act or produce an effect. 2. possession of control, influence, or authority over others. 3. physical might.

I'm obviously talking about definition 2, but in a less direct way, my statement also applies to 1 and 3.

So regarding power over others, this power can only be given with the consent of those over whom it is exercised.  We don't like to think of it that way because too many of us lay down and roll over to let people have power over us.  We want to feel excused, that there was nothing we could do.  But this is false because no one can physically make you do anything you do not choose to do.

Actually, there's two exceptions.  They can make you hurt and they can make you die.  But they still can't make you do anything they want you to do.  What we call oppression is really just strong coercion.  An oppressor finds something we want and attempts to control our receipt of it contingent upon us doing what they want.  This doesn't always have to be negative.  Many rulers know that positive reinforcement is better than negative in many cases.  In this case we don't tend to call it oppression, but the principle is the same.  We want the reward, so we comply.  Parents use this all the time.

Another side of this coercion complex involves vilifying those who don't comply and making negative examples of them.  This plays on the human tendency to conform and really just greases the wheels of the coercive process.

But it doesn't always work.  If a person or people lose the fear of the consequences, the power is gone.  Unfortunately in our society, one of the largest coercive factors is the idea that death is the ultimate evil.  If life is to be preserved at all costs, the power is handed over.  It simply becomes a matter of the degree to which it is exercised.  But if death is not feared, the ruler is grasping at straws because even pain is not so effective a coercion simply because no ruler can hurt enough people.  sure it may work one on one, but usually this occurs only after someone has already given over too much power in the first place.

Here's some examples.  Ever wonder why Native Americans were not enslaved by the Europeans?  Why would they go to the trouble and expense to catch and ship over Africans when there was an ample supply of primitive people right in their own backyard?  The answer is that they tried.  The problem was that Native Americans were (and still are) an independent and defiant people who do not hand over their power.  Even if one could be taken alive, he or she would not work.  Give them a tool and they'd put it through your head.  Slack the chain and they'd wrap it around your neck.  Pen them up and try to break them, and they'd simply starve to death or take their own life before giving in.  Where do you think that fierce independent streak of American culture came from?  Indians weren't destroyed.  They were absorbed.  The distinct cultures were largely lost, but I am a living example of the assimilated, but not conquered people who have left an indelible mark on American culture.  Truly, modern American culture IS a hybrid of Native and European and African influences.  But I digress.

Secondly, the Christian martyrs, both ancient and modern.  They came from the dominant cultures in which they were found, but lost their fear of death and even pain because of their faith.  While they didn't often resort to violent resistance, they were never conquered and thousands have refused to submit to countless regimes that violated their beliefs.

Third, Muslim martyrs.  The reason Islamic terrorism is so scary is that it can occur anywhere and from anyone.  A people who are not afraid to die do not need to submit.

But I also mentioned torture as often the result of having given up power and attempting to take it back too late.  The best example I know are the Nazi concentration camp victims.  Countless people sat by and watched as they gave up more and more power to the Nazi regime.  Then even when they were being hauled away, few resisted.  Some did.  But not most.

The Christian martyrs are not exactly in this state because they willingly submitted to the torture because of their beliefs in nonviolence.  Since it was willing, they weren't technically abdicating their power, but choosing not to exercise their power out of deference to God, whom they believed to be in control even in that time.  Some were miraculously rescued, others weren't.  But before you go trying to say this proves God doesn't exist or didn't favor them, remember what I said about death not being the ultimate evil.

I want to be clear, that I'm not downplaying the strength of the coercion.  I'm not judging anyone for acting or not acting in any way.  Until we're there, we can't say how we'd react either.  I'm simply pointing out that these were indeed cases where power was given and not taken.

I'm not even saying it is wrong to always allow someone power over you.  Certainly there are cases where it is wise, prudent, beneficial, and even good to submit.  The difference is the understanding of what we're doing.  It is voluntary submission.  No human has power over another by innate right.  It is ALWAYS by the consent of the governed.

This understanding should color our views of those over us.  It should also color our views of those under us.  Doubtless someone will quote the Bible passage about submitting to those in authority because God placed them there.  Yes.  I agree.  What does this have to do with my point?  I still have the choice to submit or not, for good or ill.  I still can't be compelled to do what a ruler says.  And if you are citing this passage, I'd like to also point out the many others about leaders whom God also took down...many through the violent and bloody hands of His people.  So it cuts both ways, pastor.  Are you so certain of which type of leader you are?

So where does this leave us?  Is there a way to act in society?  Yes, I think a mutual respect among all people, a servant leadership that understands it is just that, paired with a diverse and necessary body of others who are no less necessary and no less favored.  While this is an ideal that may be hard to reach (at least in the US), I suggest we at least reclaim the mannered equipoise of many cultures past and present:  Know you have less power than you think you do, and there's always a chance I could be more coercive than you, or at least willing to put you to the ultimate test of defending your power (i.e. I might kill you.)  So let's just be polite and we'll get along fine.

As for a better way, I think we have that as well.  God, being the prime source and beyond our influence altogether, has established that goodness and love flow from Him to us.  Goodness and love draw the recipient toward the giver.  Thus we comply not from coercion, but as a gift back.  It works in the human realm, we've all seen it.  Betrayal is universally denounced.  Good deserves good.  Love deserves love.  It sidesteps the whole power dynamic altogether.  This is how Jesus operated.  This is how many Christians operate.  It just had to start somewhere, and God took care of that for us.  Or rather, He established the universe that way, so we really have no other choice.  To defy it simply negates our own being.  A self-perpetuating system, no punishment necessary.

So I'll leave you with this.  If you are having to manipulate and strive to get people to do what you think they should, you're doing something wrong.  If you have to beg for money or tell people God won't bless them.  If you have to make lighthearted threats to get them to sign up for your program.  You are slipping into the power dynamic, which means you don't have the power in the first place.  Forcing that will be your undoing.

The only winning move is not to play.

Charlie

Here we are at holiday season again in the U.S.  It starts with Thanksgiving.  Which is a day to give thanks for all that we have through the year.  It is based in our earliest history as a nation.  Really, one of the founding events for Americans as a people...the merging of Native American and European cultures.

But in reality, it has become nothing more than a day to party.  Just like every other popular holiday here.  And American party means noise, alcohol, and a general excuse to act rude and slightly debauched in the name of "good cheer".  People have already started buying enough food to feed a developing village for a week.  Some are having dinners tonight.  Tomorrow the real feasting will occur.  Some people going to 3 or 4 feasts.

Then Friday following has become a day to consume yet even more as people flock to stores and fight to buy all the bait and switch deals.  I have never been to a store on "Black Friday" but I did go to one on Sunday after, last year.  Things were literally thrown around like a riot had occurred.  This is "celebrating".

And I'll have to go to some obligatory feast of my own (I'll only do one)...deciding which family group will feel most slighted if I don't go.  I'll see people I don't know and don't have anything in common with, other than some tenuous genetic connections.  I'll smile and be cordial and make polite excuses for not eating foods I can't eat and probably get sick from eating some things just to shut people up.

Christmas specials have already started in stores, on TV, everywhere telling me what I am supposed to do and feel and most having no concept of what the holiday really is...or rather no concept of what that means...I'm sure most actually know what it is about.

So now starts my least favorite time of year.  I wish I could just not participate at all.  The favorite holiday season of my life was the one I spent in Japan where most didn't know about my holidays and fewer cared.  I was able to keep them in my own way, sharing  peaceful and enjoyable time with my family and a few friends we shared our traditions with.  But unfortunately, here that is impossible.

I'll try not to be obviously negative so as not to ruin it for others...but maybe it's worth ruining.  Am I doing those I care for a disservice by not expressing what is hollow and wrong?

I have made certain stands, but they are to little avail against the tide of prescribed consumption and obligatory "cheer".

So if you see me through this season, give me a little nod that you understand.  I know I'm not alone.  And if you disagree, that's fine.  You keep it your way and leave me to keep it mine.  You've got the whole culture with you.  The least you could do is give me a little space to salvage what good I can scrounge out of it without judgement or pressure.

Roots

I have been reading another George MacDonald book.  Uncle George does not disappoint again.  This one, I've been putting off since it doesn't seem like something I'd like at first blush.  It's called the Vicar's Daughter, and it's described as a Victorian novel.  Hmmm.  Need I say more?

But as usual, when the time is right things fall into place and I went ahead to read it.  Also, per usual, I found that the stereotype of "Victorian" is far from the truth.  Certainly this book was written in the Victorian era.  As such it has a certain defined social code, etc.  But humans are human and I find all the fun, struggles, loves common to all people.  However, literary critic I am not, and so I won't belabor this.

What really has taken me is the thorough similarity of the characters with my own time and viewpoints.  I don't mean this to say I have an old-fashioned mindset.  I'm far from a traditionalist,and am not very sentimental.  But I grew up in a prosperous country on the teeter of decline, in a middle class family, right as the notions of an older generation were passing away from our culture.  I moved naturally from this to a countercultural worldview we call punk.  I grew up into a productive member of society with a family, though not shedding my ideals to do it.  This book focuses on just the same class of people in the same situation.  What I call punk, they call Bohemian, but the description is almost identical...obviously, not the appearance specifically, nor the music, etc.  But the ideals and the manifestations of those ideals are the same, even down to the shockingly reproachful clothes .

But even more than this is the similarity in faith.  While I had known my views were part of an unbroken chain of truth and truth-seekers extending back into prehistory, I had not known that it was so well documented and articulated in such a similar way.

Of course, I should not be surprised.  If Truth is Truth, it ought to manifest itself in very similar ways where conditions are similar.  And that is what I find here.  In fact, I've felt this once before, when reading Augustine.  At that time, I attributed it mostly to an above average translator whom I thought must have been able to make the ancient writing open to modern ears.  But now, I'm reading native English, close enough to my own dialect as to be totally intelligible in the writer's own words.  So I am forced to see what was obscured before.

In fact, the book sits so well with me that I'm finding it nearly a handbook for my place in life right now.  Things I have thought, said, done, wished for, are here presented in very nearly the exact same way more than a hundred years before.

I had previously blogged about uncanny similarities in MacDonald books.  But now I am certain that time has no meaning for those of us who live with eternity in view.  I do not doubt that Uncle George is presently aware of this very blog entry and my connection with his work.  For all I know, he may be communicating to me from his books, or we may share a spirit in some fashion.  Perhaps through the same mechanism, albeit a far more profane version of the connection between John the Baptist and Elijah.  Though this is more likely a metaphorical fancy than actual fact. Nevertheless, I shouldn't be surprised by this kind of connection amongst those who live in Christ.  Aren't we parts of one body?

Anyway, what I'm taking away from this book is uniquely mine, and too much to recount here.  But perhaps the greatest thing is that I now feel certainly confirmed in my brand of faith.  If it has existed for so long in so precisely the same fashion, I can safely put aside doubt.  I had feared it was my own personal religion built of my peculiar brand of rebellion and whimsy, well fortified with bricks of prooftext and the mortar of complex self deceptions.

Now I can safely stand out on it and believe I am not alone and not in error.  There have been, are, and will be those who are made like me, believe like me, and I am confident enough to cast my lot in with them for good or ill.

Thank you George.  And thank you God.  The former for being the instrument and the latter for being the wind that sounds it in answer to my prayers, even across the nonexistent gulfs of time and space.  When I meet you face to face, we will not in any way be meeting for the first time.