"If you have two propositions in conflict, it's human nature to disregard one of them."
Lionel Festinger
During the recent mid-term elections my husband and I were "discussing" our sometimes opposing views on American politics, with strong convictions and passion our most common topic is political party lines and which one aligns with our foundational faith- beliefs best. I tend to be a quick emotional responder (reactor) and he is a slow deep analytical thinker, which at times can feel like a disadvantage, I think to us both.
At one point my husband made this observation/comment in regard to how the two political parties see each other. He said, "The Democrats think the Republicans are stupid and the Republicans think the Democrats are wrong." And I am pretty sure we quickly went on to prove his statement true, because wrapped in my argument(s) I may have indicated something like, "Well, that's just stupid." To which he may have responded, "No, you're just wrong."
Which then got me to thinking about why do we defend our beliefs so adamantly? Is the reason an allegiance to a belief or perspective that one holds to be absolutely true? Or is it simply that the fear of looking stupid or being wrong drives one to remain opposed to any information that might possibly expose the fact that they may not have all the right answers or correct perspective? Then I thought, no one ever argues absolutes like gravity or the need for oxygen. These are simply not issues for discussion. Sure there have been those who have invented ways to defy gravity or to regulate the flow of oxygen...but these discoveries do not make one look stupid or wrong for believing oxygen and gravity to be staples of their daily life.
So now I am wondering if cognitive dissonance only occurs when non-absolute truths are challenged; even if at one time the non-absolutes were believed to be absolute. Although people claim to know absolute truth, I believe absolute truth can only be assigned to God alone because any or all of our learned knowledge is subject to fallibility. Like Galileo's discovering that the Earth was not the center of the universe, causing the "infallible" Church's interpretation of Holy Scripture to be wrong. Or how ignorant would we appear today if we supported the belief that one man had the right to enslave another? Yet there was a time in this country when that belief was so strongly held, a civil war was fought over it.
And then it hit me. What means will we go to in order to keep from having our non-absolute truths disproved? The Church brought those who opposed their beliefs before a court to be tried for heresy with death, imprisonment or banishment being the penalties imposed. Those who choose to hold tightly to ignorant beliefs, like the white "God fearing" men and women in the south in the 1960's who supported segregation, will be overcome with fear and ultimately driven by need to silence those who are challenging their beliefs. I have often wondered how humankind has survived considering the torture it has inflicted on those whom we need to oppress in order to keep our perceptions of truth in tact. Sadly to our discredit as humans, our response to cognitive dissonance has honed our dexterity to oppress or exploit others.
Festinger says that this psychological phenomenon known as cognitive dissonance is as strong a human response as hunger and thirst. Which leads me to the conclusion that when one is experiencing conflicting information it is not simply that one does not want to know, it is that one believes their very life depends on not assimilating to it. The worst example of this is when a Mother chooses to live in an altered state of reality denying the truth that her children are being abused, thereby not protecting them.
I am not sure I can control when this human response mechanism kicks in, but I am thinking maybe I can choose to not hold on to as many non-absolutes. So, now I find myself asking the questions, "What absolutes do I hold?" "What absolute does my faith depend on?" If, 'perfect love casts out all fear', then holding to a belief in God should not result in my responding to conflicting information, discoveries or opinions with the fear of looking stupid or being wrong. More importantly to me though is this hope; that if I truly believe there is a God, I do not have to worry about defending his existence or any truths he has decided on. My faith-beliefs should fall into the category with oxygen and gravity. No need to fear, no need to argue, no need to prove their existence. Their own nature is their proof.
I wonder if the need for me to prove; my perspective, support the right (or left), have my candidate win, my party in control, my ideas, ideals or rights supported by the majority of voters will be less now that I understand cognitive dissonance? Probably not...
But maybe replacing my faith-based-belief on God himself and not on political views, biblical interpretations, actions, experiences or momentary culturally accepted doctrine or any other non-absolute truths my life will be a bit more congruent with the mercy of God.
"The standard by which we measure our obedience is therefore Jesus Christ himself; from Him we learn that brokenness, not success, is the normal path of faithfulness to the servanthood of God. This is not to glorify failure or some sort of heroic uselessness, but to claim, as a confession that can be only made in faith, that true "success" in Christian obedience is not to be measured by changing the world in a given direction with a given length of time, but by the congruence between our path and the triumph of Christ.
Every kind of brutal pragmatism has justified itself by the good results; so has every idealistic glorification of whatever anyone is currently doing to save the world. We must relearn the humility of measuring our obedience not by our claims to get something done, which really does not lie in our hands, but rather by its faithfulness to the word which God has spoken to man in the Man of his choice." John Howard Yoder
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Thursday, October 05, 2006
The Truth about Tragedy by Susan Caldwell
"What makes a tragedy so tragic is not that the noble individual falls into ruin, but that
his fall causes so much suffering in others."
--Charmezel Dudt.
When I read this quote I can’t help but think about Shakespeare and how this idea must have been the foundation upon which all of his tragedies were based. When King Lear’s pride and ego drive him to choose unwisely, it is his honest and devoted daughter Cordelia who pays with her life. As Romeo and Juliet’s lives end tragically because of their choices, Tibalt and Mercutio lose their lives as well. Perhaps the hardest part of a tragedy is trying to make sense out of the carnage left behind. And in Shakespeare’s plays as in real world tragedies, like Rwanda and the Republic of Congo, carnage really means loss of life.
Someone once said that there is very little tragedy in American theater because America’s ideal is; man is captain of his own fate and that justice will prevail for all men. And if tragedy by definition is an event or action that carries no resolve in itself, then justice will never triumph out of tragedy. At least not on its own; it must be brought into the tragedy by those who are willing to enter into the suffering. This can be by the very one who fell into ruin and caused the tragedy…or by those left standing, the living "carnage".
In Shakespeare’s tragedies, those who could have brought justice fell victim to the suffering that surrounded them and were unable to bear the guilt or shame or responsibility of their actions; King Lear dies of a heart attack after watching his daughter hanged, Macbeth goes crazy, Othello can only cry and Hamlet’s (re) actions come too late.
The truth is that we will all experience tragedy in our lives. Sometimes we will be the “noble individual” (or not so noble) who brings the tragedy and sometimes we will be the innocent one suffering.
When Nelson Mandela stood before his accusers during his trial for sabotage, he gave this response to the tragedy that he found himself in.
“Having said this, I must deal immediately and at some length with the question of violence. Some of the things so far told to the Court are true and some are untrue. I do not, however, deny that I planned sabotage. I did not plan it in a spirit of recklessness, nor because I have any love of violence. I planned it as a result of a calm and sober assessment of the political situation that had arisen after many years of tyranny, exploitation, and oppression of my people by the Whites.”
I believe when one takes responsibility for their life and actions, as Mandela did, it is in that moment they are able to accept whatever consequences have incurred as a result of their choices. It is in this place where we embrace both our innocence and guilt that the hope for redemption is born and justice reign.
his fall causes so much suffering in others."
--Charmezel Dudt.
When I read this quote I can’t help but think about Shakespeare and how this idea must have been the foundation upon which all of his tragedies were based. When King Lear’s pride and ego drive him to choose unwisely, it is his honest and devoted daughter Cordelia who pays with her life. As Romeo and Juliet’s lives end tragically because of their choices, Tibalt and Mercutio lose their lives as well. Perhaps the hardest part of a tragedy is trying to make sense out of the carnage left behind. And in Shakespeare’s plays as in real world tragedies, like Rwanda and the Republic of Congo, carnage really means loss of life.
Someone once said that there is very little tragedy in American theater because America’s ideal is; man is captain of his own fate and that justice will prevail for all men. And if tragedy by definition is an event or action that carries no resolve in itself, then justice will never triumph out of tragedy. At least not on its own; it must be brought into the tragedy by those who are willing to enter into the suffering. This can be by the very one who fell into ruin and caused the tragedy…or by those left standing, the living "carnage".
In Shakespeare’s tragedies, those who could have brought justice fell victim to the suffering that surrounded them and were unable to bear the guilt or shame or responsibility of their actions; King Lear dies of a heart attack after watching his daughter hanged, Macbeth goes crazy, Othello can only cry and Hamlet’s (re) actions come too late.
The truth is that we will all experience tragedy in our lives. Sometimes we will be the “noble individual” (or not so noble) who brings the tragedy and sometimes we will be the innocent one suffering.
When Nelson Mandela stood before his accusers during his trial for sabotage, he gave this response to the tragedy that he found himself in.
“Having said this, I must deal immediately and at some length with the question of violence. Some of the things so far told to the Court are true and some are untrue. I do not, however, deny that I planned sabotage. I did not plan it in a spirit of recklessness, nor because I have any love of violence. I planned it as a result of a calm and sober assessment of the political situation that had arisen after many years of tyranny, exploitation, and oppression of my people by the Whites.”
I believe when one takes responsibility for their life and actions, as Mandela did, it is in that moment they are able to accept whatever consequences have incurred as a result of their choices. It is in this place where we embrace both our innocence and guilt that the hope for redemption is born and justice reign.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
"I 'not me' you" by Susan Caldwell
Most of us know that love is an action not just a word and to love and care for someone is exhausting. When I remember this I become acutely aware of my limitations and abilities to love all those who are in my life. It is much easy to say I love someone, than to prove my love. I must admit I have chosen the easy way more times than not. Knowing myself and how selfish I am…I realize how different my life would look if I truly loved all those I said, “I love you” to. This has led me to rethink the words “I love you.” Maybe what we should really say is, “I ‘not me’ you.” (Meaning, I will choose to serve you not me first, your needs and not mine, your best interests and not mine…etc.)
I remember thinking that motherhood was the opportunity to choose to die to myself every day. This I do believe is true...the real challenge is now before me, when there are not three little ones demanding my time...I will face the reality of my true character...when I do not have to choose to serve someone else's needs first. If the choices I made to serve my children reflected my values and desires thereby defining me during the child rearing years...how will the choices I am now making affect what I become in the future.
Eric Erickson's study on the stages of development say "we determine our virtues or our malignancies by the either/or choices we make throughout our lives." He said there are 3 stages of life where a person is completely self-absorbed; Infancy, adolescence and old age. I can give total grace to the infant and even the adolescent, because in my mind they are still in development...learning how to make the choices that will bring them the virtues earned by making the "right" choice. But the adult...the one who has lived long enough to pass through these two stages, who knows what is right to do, but does not do it...that is the one I struggle with. Erickson says in old age we have but two heart/mind sets to live out of; wisdom and gratefulness which leads to selflessness, or presumption, despair and ultimately bitterness leading only to self-absorption.
I am now the adult (okay, maybe I have been for a while, but I am now admitting to it)...and the enormous task of choosing what is right is so much harder when it is not demanded. It is far easier to tell myself what I want to hear...to feed my ego...to wait for others to come to me, to serve me, to give me what I deserve...I now see that just desiring to grow old with wisdom and gratefulness is not enough...just as saying I love you is not enough. No, I must act on my words...and it is as humbling to admit as it is hard to do.
Three goals I am reaching for:
Learning to live by indifference (one of St. Igneous Loyola's exercises)
Learning to love 9and live) by action not (just) words
Learning to examine myself daily in relation to the choices I am making and my desired outcomes.
I remember thinking that motherhood was the opportunity to choose to die to myself every day. This I do believe is true...the real challenge is now before me, when there are not three little ones demanding my time...I will face the reality of my true character...when I do not have to choose to serve someone else's needs first. If the choices I made to serve my children reflected my values and desires thereby defining me during the child rearing years...how will the choices I am now making affect what I become in the future.
Eric Erickson's study on the stages of development say "we determine our virtues or our malignancies by the either/or choices we make throughout our lives." He said there are 3 stages of life where a person is completely self-absorbed; Infancy, adolescence and old age. I can give total grace to the infant and even the adolescent, because in my mind they are still in development...learning how to make the choices that will bring them the virtues earned by making the "right" choice. But the adult...the one who has lived long enough to pass through these two stages, who knows what is right to do, but does not do it...that is the one I struggle with. Erickson says in old age we have but two heart/mind sets to live out of; wisdom and gratefulness which leads to selflessness, or presumption, despair and ultimately bitterness leading only to self-absorption.
I am now the adult (okay, maybe I have been for a while, but I am now admitting to it)...and the enormous task of choosing what is right is so much harder when it is not demanded. It is far easier to tell myself what I want to hear...to feed my ego...to wait for others to come to me, to serve me, to give me what I deserve...I now see that just desiring to grow old with wisdom and gratefulness is not enough...just as saying I love you is not enough. No, I must act on my words...and it is as humbling to admit as it is hard to do.
Three goals I am reaching for:
Learning to live by indifference (one of St. Igneous Loyola's exercises)
Learning to love 9and live) by action not (just) words
Learning to examine myself daily in relation to the choices I am making and my desired outcomes.
I 'not me' you... by Susan Caldwell
Most of us know that love is an action not just a word and to love and care for someone is exhausting. When I remember this I become acutely aware of my limitations and abilities to love all those who are in my life. It is much easy to say I love someone, than to prove my love. I must admit I have chosen the easy way more times than not. Knowing myself and how selfish I am…I realize how different my life would look if I truly loved all those I said, “I love you” to. This has led me to rethink the words “I love you.” Maybe what we should really say is, “I ‘not me’ you.” (Meaning, I will choose to serve you not me first, your needs and not mine, your best interests and not mine…etc.)
I remember thinking that motherhood was the opportunity to choose to die to myself every day. This I do believe is true...the real challenge is now before me, when there are not three little ones demanding my time...I will face the reality of my true character...when I do not have to choose to serve someone else's needs first. If the choices I made to serve my children reflected my values and desires thereby defining me during the child rearing years...how will the choices I am now making affect what I become in the future.
Eric Erickson's study on the stages of development say "we determine our virtues or our malignancies by the either/or choices we make throughout our lives." He said there are 3 stages of life where a person is completely self-absorbed; Infancy, adolescence and old age. I can give total grace to the infant and even the adolescent, because in my mind they are still in development...learning how to make the choices that will bring them the virtues earned by making the "right" choice. But the adult...the one who has lived long enough to pass through these two stages, who knows what is right to do, but does not do it...that is the one I struggle with. Erickson says in old age we have but two heart/mind sets to live out of; wisdom and gratefulness which leads to selflessness, or presumption, despair and ultimately bitterness leading only to self-absorption.
I am now the adult (okay, maybe I have been for a while, but I am now admitting to it)...and the enormous task of choosing what is right is so much harder when it is not demanded. It is far easier to tell myself what I want to hear...to feed my ego...to wait for others to come to me, to serve me, to give me what I deserve...I now see that just desiring to grow old with wisdom and gratefulness is not enough...just as saying I love you is not enough. No, I must act on my words...and it is as humbling to admit as it is hard to do.
Three goals I am reaching for:
Learning to live by indifference (one of St. Igneous Loyola's exercises)
Learning to love (and live) by action not (just) words.
Learning to examine myself daily in relation to the choices I am making and my desired outcomes.
I remember thinking that motherhood was the opportunity to choose to die to myself every day. This I do believe is true...the real challenge is now before me, when there are not three little ones demanding my time...I will face the reality of my true character...when I do not have to choose to serve someone else's needs first. If the choices I made to serve my children reflected my values and desires thereby defining me during the child rearing years...how will the choices I am now making affect what I become in the future.
Eric Erickson's study on the stages of development say "we determine our virtues or our malignancies by the either/or choices we make throughout our lives." He said there are 3 stages of life where a person is completely self-absorbed; Infancy, adolescence and old age. I can give total grace to the infant and even the adolescent, because in my mind they are still in development...learning how to make the choices that will bring them the virtues earned by making the "right" choice. But the adult...the one who has lived long enough to pass through these two stages, who knows what is right to do, but does not do it...that is the one I struggle with. Erickson says in old age we have but two heart/mind sets to live out of; wisdom and gratefulness which leads to selflessness, or presumption, despair and ultimately bitterness leading only to self-absorption.
I am now the adult (okay, maybe I have been for a while, but I am now admitting to it)...and the enormous task of choosing what is right is so much harder when it is not demanded. It is far easier to tell myself what I want to hear...to feed my ego...to wait for others to come to me, to serve me, to give me what I deserve...I now see that just desiring to grow old with wisdom and gratefulness is not enough...just as saying I love you is not enough. No, I must act on my words...and it is as humbling to admit as it is hard to do.
Three goals I am reaching for:
Learning to live by indifference (one of St. Igneous Loyola's exercises)
Learning to love (and live) by action not (just) words.
Learning to examine myself daily in relation to the choices I am making and my desired outcomes.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
A Promising Paradox? by Susan Caldwell
What is wrong with the world today?
I humbly submit as my answer the same one G. K. Chesterton gave “The Times”, almost a century ago, when they invited him to write an essay on the topic.
“Dear Sirs,
What is wrong with the world today?
I am.”
Sincerely,
G. K. Chesterton
With that said, I feel compelled to share some thoughts about the world around me that these following quotes from Chesterton’s life awoke in me.
"A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it." - Everlasting Man, 1925
I do not want to be a dead thing…a dead thing in the world around me or in the Church. And yet sadly I fear that choosing to be alive today means I will be fighting an “upstream” battle the whole time…and for the most part this battle may be against mainstream Christianity in America.
"The whole truth is generally the ally of virtue; a half-truth is always the ally of some vice." - ILN, 6/11/10
I have yet to meet a person who can or will tell the whole truth, not just to others but to himself most of all. We must not really believe “the truth will set us free” or else we would be the first to tell on ourselves…and even more determine to help those we say we love tell on themselves. Leaving us shackled to the half-truth, “only tell what you want known” proving what we really believe is true… better safe than...free.
"Idolatry is committed, not merely by setting up false gods, but also by setting up false devils; by making men afraid of war or alcohol, or economic law, when they should be afraid of spiritual corruption and cowardice." - ILN 9/11/09
The church in America today commits idolatry by setting up the false god of the perfect Christian parent or the perfect Christian spouse. And this is reflected most clearly in our false devils; by making children fear; sex or underage drinking or the worst offense, the exposure of any behavior that would make us look like bad parents, when we should be afraid of our own spiritual corruption and cowardice.
"I would rather a boy learnt in the roughest school the courage to hit a politician, or gained in the hardest school the learning to refute him - rather than that he should gain in the most enlightened school the cunning to copy him." (ILN 8-31-12)
How will our children determine what is holy, good, right, whole truth and honorable when we are working so hard to teach them to copy? I want my children to have courage not to fear. I want them to have the ability to think for themselves and to walk in whole truth. I want them to have freedom to refute those who use fear to manipulate. I want them to live in and with a community that is willing to stop being controlled by the need to conform. I want my children to hold mirrors up to themselves…looking into their own hearts…driving them to confession instead of the cunning to copy an image.
I find what Chesterton articulated so brilliantly, the paradox of living as a sinful man while aspiring to reflect and follow the teachings of Jesus, continues to be my struggle as well. And while I find comfort and inspiration in his words it is the actions of a woman who said these words “I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts there can be no more hurt only more love,” (Mother Teresa) that rekindles my desire to keep living in this promising paradox and even if I am never able to change anything in me or around me I able to keep choosing to try.
I humbly submit as my answer the same one G. K. Chesterton gave “The Times”, almost a century ago, when they invited him to write an essay on the topic.
“Dear Sirs,
What is wrong with the world today?
I am.”
Sincerely,
G. K. Chesterton
With that said, I feel compelled to share some thoughts about the world around me that these following quotes from Chesterton’s life awoke in me.
"A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it." - Everlasting Man, 1925
I do not want to be a dead thing…a dead thing in the world around me or in the Church. And yet sadly I fear that choosing to be alive today means I will be fighting an “upstream” battle the whole time…and for the most part this battle may be against mainstream Christianity in America.
"The whole truth is generally the ally of virtue; a half-truth is always the ally of some vice." - ILN, 6/11/10
I have yet to meet a person who can or will tell the whole truth, not just to others but to himself most of all. We must not really believe “the truth will set us free” or else we would be the first to tell on ourselves…and even more determine to help those we say we love tell on themselves. Leaving us shackled to the half-truth, “only tell what you want known” proving what we really believe is true… better safe than...free.
"Idolatry is committed, not merely by setting up false gods, but also by setting up false devils; by making men afraid of war or alcohol, or economic law, when they should be afraid of spiritual corruption and cowardice." - ILN 9/11/09
The church in America today commits idolatry by setting up the false god of the perfect Christian parent or the perfect Christian spouse. And this is reflected most clearly in our false devils; by making children fear; sex or underage drinking or the worst offense, the exposure of any behavior that would make us look like bad parents, when we should be afraid of our own spiritual corruption and cowardice.
"I would rather a boy learnt in the roughest school the courage to hit a politician, or gained in the hardest school the learning to refute him - rather than that he should gain in the most enlightened school the cunning to copy him." (ILN 8-31-12)
How will our children determine what is holy, good, right, whole truth and honorable when we are working so hard to teach them to copy? I want my children to have courage not to fear. I want them to have the ability to think for themselves and to walk in whole truth. I want them to have freedom to refute those who use fear to manipulate. I want them to live in and with a community that is willing to stop being controlled by the need to conform. I want my children to hold mirrors up to themselves…looking into their own hearts…driving them to confession instead of the cunning to copy an image.
I find what Chesterton articulated so brilliantly, the paradox of living as a sinful man while aspiring to reflect and follow the teachings of Jesus, continues to be my struggle as well. And while I find comfort and inspiration in his words it is the actions of a woman who said these words “I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts there can be no more hurt only more love,” (Mother Teresa) that rekindles my desire to keep living in this promising paradox and even if I am never able to change anything in me or around me I able to keep choosing to try.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
If I choose... by Susan Caldwell
I am pride-filled
I am ugly
I am a liar
I am unable to save myself
I am forgetful
I am selfish
I am ungrateful
I am ashamed
I am all mankind
I am numb inside
Longing to feel
Which will happen first?
Awareness, action, movement, change or
Unexpected actions, forced movement, bringing change
Now aware and wide awake…if I choose
I am alone inside
Yearning to be known
Which will happen first?
Approached, invited, perhaps either or by
Advancing, risking a request, a quickened pulse
Sensing warmth and company…if I choose
I am sad inside
Desiring joy
Which will happen first?
Needs met, dreams fulfilled, infinite happiness or to
Help, give hope, serving where needs are found
Bringing pleasure in purpose…if I choose
I am broken inside
Wishing to be made whole
Which will happen first?
Mending, making new, healing in and through or is
Redemption found in exposing wounds
Being repaired by revealing…if I choose
I am afraid inside
Trembling in self loathing
Which will happen first?
Strength, courage, confident belief in self or in
Confession, dependence, hoping in a Saving Grace
Forever free of fear…if I choose
If I choose…
I am ugly
I am a liar
I am unable to save myself
I am forgetful
I am selfish
I am ungrateful
I am ashamed
I am all mankind
I am numb inside
Longing to feel
Which will happen first?
Awareness, action, movement, change or
Unexpected actions, forced movement, bringing change
Now aware and wide awake…if I choose
I am alone inside
Yearning to be known
Which will happen first?
Approached, invited, perhaps either or by
Advancing, risking a request, a quickened pulse
Sensing warmth and company…if I choose
I am sad inside
Desiring joy
Which will happen first?
Needs met, dreams fulfilled, infinite happiness or to
Help, give hope, serving where needs are found
Bringing pleasure in purpose…if I choose
I am broken inside
Wishing to be made whole
Which will happen first?
Mending, making new, healing in and through or is
Redemption found in exposing wounds
Being repaired by revealing…if I choose
I am afraid inside
Trembling in self loathing
Which will happen first?
Strength, courage, confident belief in self or in
Confession, dependence, hoping in a Saving Grace
Forever free of fear…if I choose
If I choose…
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
The Game of Secret Keeping by Susan Caldwell
When I was a child I remember playing Hide and Go Seek with my Dad. I would run and hide somewhere in the house and then he would come looking for me. I don’t remember if it was the growling bear sounds he made or if it was just my heart pounding so hard in excited anticipation of being found; but I do remember there was anxiousness about the waiting. I was not a very good hider, I am sure of that. I can see myself scrunched up behind a bedroom door…or balled up on a closet floor, just waiting for the moment in which I would be discovered. There would be a breathless frightening silence right before my hiding place was uncovered and then a small yelp or high-pitched scream, depending on my readiness. The very reason why I would subject myself to the pains of worry and nervous anticipation of the wait was to experience the joy felt when being found. Within that joy I was being reminded that I was worth being sought after.
I think there is a direct correlation between this childhood game and secret keeping. All children seem to have an innate sense of hiding any wrong they have done. But I also believe there is an equally powerful instinct that accompanies it; you know that anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach that awakens all of your senses reminding you; you are hiding and just waiting to be found. When I was young I am sure my ability to keep secrets was a lot like my Hide and Go Seek skills... not very good. Whether the guilty look on my face was as obvious as my hiding in plain view or the desire to be found was greater than my fear of being uncovered, I was never able to keep any secret hidden for very long.
In junior high school the game was altered when you were given a partner to hide with…someone else had a secret and you were to help keep it hidden. This always seemed like a test to me, just to see who could stay quiet the longest thereby win the title of best friend. Yet ironically, the only time keeping quiet mattered was when it was your secret, so the very act of inviting someone into your hidding place assured your discovery. No one was ever able to stay still for very long, not many junior high kids are, so the fact was most secrets were uncovered. I also think there was still something at the core of us that longed to release the anxiety we felt whenever hiding. Although there were kids who could stay hidden forever…some may still be there, alone holding their childhood secrets gripped in fear, never having experienced the joy or celebration of being found.
In adulthood the game changed once again. This version of Hide and Go Seek, called Sardines carries with it the junior high idea of team playing with an added twist. There is plenty of hiding and seeking but no celebration in the discovery only more hiding. As the group goes out individually to find the one literally hiding in the dark, the goal is to remain with the hider and wait for all the others to join in the hiding. The game ends when last person looking joins them.
I believe secret keeping in adulthood looks more like the game of Sardines than Hide and Go Seek. Somewhere along the way we lost the joy that comes from being found and replaced it with a relief that we didn’t get caught. Perhaps we were robbed of the joy by not being looked for when we were younger or when we were found, we were seen as the loser. It is understandable then that we would want to change the game into something that would make us feel like winners and would help ease the anxiety that we were feeling while we hid. But sadly this style of secret-keeping destroys any possibility of building trust or finding joy.
I have spent most of my adult life living in relationship with a closely-knit community of friends. Over the years we have had many opportunities to demonstrate our deep commitment to each other. I must admit, though, there has been a fear of telling our secrets here as well. We are bound by the anxiety of hiding yet now the game is to appear like we are not hiding. After nearly 30 years in relationship with these friends, there have been: unwed pregnancies, divorce, prodigal sons and daughters, infidelity, financial struggles, lies and deceit. Whatever secret each one of us has tried desperately to keep hidden has, in the end, been found out. Giving us the opportunity to learn from each other that by uncovering our own secrets and being discovered in our hiding places we will have our deepest fear vanished and our greatest need validated: The fear of being left alone in pain and the desire to be loved and cared for, no matter what.
I hope my children will play the game of secret-keeping like I played Hide and Go Seek. I want them to be lousy at hiding so that they might be quickly found. Thereby lessening their anxiety during the wait and hurrying the joy that comes when they are found. I hope I instilled in them the expectation of being found; teaching them that someone who loves them is always looking for them. And that a true friend will never leave them alone hiding in the dark.
I think there is a direct correlation between this childhood game and secret keeping. All children seem to have an innate sense of hiding any wrong they have done. But I also believe there is an equally powerful instinct that accompanies it; you know that anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach that awakens all of your senses reminding you; you are hiding and just waiting to be found. When I was young I am sure my ability to keep secrets was a lot like my Hide and Go Seek skills... not very good. Whether the guilty look on my face was as obvious as my hiding in plain view or the desire to be found was greater than my fear of being uncovered, I was never able to keep any secret hidden for very long.
In junior high school the game was altered when you were given a partner to hide with…someone else had a secret and you were to help keep it hidden. This always seemed like a test to me, just to see who could stay quiet the longest thereby win the title of best friend. Yet ironically, the only time keeping quiet mattered was when it was your secret, so the very act of inviting someone into your hidding place assured your discovery. No one was ever able to stay still for very long, not many junior high kids are, so the fact was most secrets were uncovered. I also think there was still something at the core of us that longed to release the anxiety we felt whenever hiding. Although there were kids who could stay hidden forever…some may still be there, alone holding their childhood secrets gripped in fear, never having experienced the joy or celebration of being found.
In adulthood the game changed once again. This version of Hide and Go Seek, called Sardines carries with it the junior high idea of team playing with an added twist. There is plenty of hiding and seeking but no celebration in the discovery only more hiding. As the group goes out individually to find the one literally hiding in the dark, the goal is to remain with the hider and wait for all the others to join in the hiding. The game ends when last person looking joins them.
I believe secret keeping in adulthood looks more like the game of Sardines than Hide and Go Seek. Somewhere along the way we lost the joy that comes from being found and replaced it with a relief that we didn’t get caught. Perhaps we were robbed of the joy by not being looked for when we were younger or when we were found, we were seen as the loser. It is understandable then that we would want to change the game into something that would make us feel like winners and would help ease the anxiety that we were feeling while we hid. But sadly this style of secret-keeping destroys any possibility of building trust or finding joy.
I have spent most of my adult life living in relationship with a closely-knit community of friends. Over the years we have had many opportunities to demonstrate our deep commitment to each other. I must admit, though, there has been a fear of telling our secrets here as well. We are bound by the anxiety of hiding yet now the game is to appear like we are not hiding. After nearly 30 years in relationship with these friends, there have been: unwed pregnancies, divorce, prodigal sons and daughters, infidelity, financial struggles, lies and deceit. Whatever secret each one of us has tried desperately to keep hidden has, in the end, been found out. Giving us the opportunity to learn from each other that by uncovering our own secrets and being discovered in our hiding places we will have our deepest fear vanished and our greatest need validated: The fear of being left alone in pain and the desire to be loved and cared for, no matter what.
I hope my children will play the game of secret-keeping like I played Hide and Go Seek. I want them to be lousy at hiding so that they might be quickly found. Thereby lessening their anxiety during the wait and hurrying the joy that comes when they are found. I hope I instilled in them the expectation of being found; teaching them that someone who loves them is always looking for them. And that a true friend will never leave them alone hiding in the dark.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
The Power of Perspective by Susan Caldwell
When my oldest daughter was about thirteen she said to me, “Mom, things don’t change, just your perspective changes.” At the time she was becoming aware of the many possibilities of embarrassment that lay on the horizon as she approached high school…such as our family’s old blue Ford station wagon, my singing in the car, which side of “tracks” we lived on…etc.
I have been recalling this conversation and although at the time I was impressed by her observation of life and the opportunities that arise for us to choose new perspectives. I can see now how changing ones perspective becomes the catalyst for altering attitudes and actions as well. Sometimes this can be for the better, other times it can be very dangerous if we are left alone to redefine our lives by a wrong perspective.
A dear friend once encouraged me with these words. “Don’t forget in darkness what you knew to be true in the light.” I think immediately of the hundreds of times I have stubbed my toe in the dark as I make my way to the bathroom at night. My shoes, the dog’s bone or the edge of the bed have all caught me off guard; even though I knew they were there when the light was on. It is usually only after the stumble and cursing out loud, that the thought comes, “Oh yeah, I remember seeing that on the floor.”
Think of the darkness of adolescence; the fear of being different, the need to fit in and be cool while feeling so uncomfortable in one’s own skin, which all give plenty of opportunities to change perspectives on family values, lifestyles and even reality… thus proving the theory of “things don’t change, just your perspective changes.” The truth was my daughter’s view of our family did not change the facts about our family at all. Sadly, the only thing her perspective did change was her attitude and actions, making us very aware of how unhappy certain things about our family made her feel.
This brings an even deeper truth to the danger. When the times of darkness come, my perspective will be immediately changed, and if I begin to live as though there were no concrete items (beliefs) in my life, the danger only increases. Because, sadly, if left alone in the dark, I, like every other human being on Earth, am capable of believing my newfound perspective is the right one.
So, I need to have absolute, concrete truths in my life that will not disappear, even when darkness comes and my perspective is changed. I need real things to bump into reminding me I am making decisions alone in the dark. I also need to have others who know me and know my life to remind me of these so that during the times I do not have control over the darkness, like the electrical blackouts that come during a summer storm, my friends can help guide me. Or they will shout out, in an attempt to help save me from myself during the times I actually choose to close my eyes and walk around in the dark, stumbling, cursing and causing unneeded pain.
I am not saying changing our perspectives is always wrong, I am saying we should not change our perspectives alone…in the dark. Because of my daughter’s courage and wise understanding of life, many times she has given me opportunities to grow and change my perspective in places where I had held narrow-minded or selfish views.
What I am saying is that the choices we make affect everyone who lives in community around us, so when we choose to change our perspective on things, understanding that our attitudes and actions will be altered as well, we must not do so in the dark…because choosing does not change things…it only changes us…
I have been recalling this conversation and although at the time I was impressed by her observation of life and the opportunities that arise for us to choose new perspectives. I can see now how changing ones perspective becomes the catalyst for altering attitudes and actions as well. Sometimes this can be for the better, other times it can be very dangerous if we are left alone to redefine our lives by a wrong perspective.
A dear friend once encouraged me with these words. “Don’t forget in darkness what you knew to be true in the light.” I think immediately of the hundreds of times I have stubbed my toe in the dark as I make my way to the bathroom at night. My shoes, the dog’s bone or the edge of the bed have all caught me off guard; even though I knew they were there when the light was on. It is usually only after the stumble and cursing out loud, that the thought comes, “Oh yeah, I remember seeing that on the floor.”
Think of the darkness of adolescence; the fear of being different, the need to fit in and be cool while feeling so uncomfortable in one’s own skin, which all give plenty of opportunities to change perspectives on family values, lifestyles and even reality… thus proving the theory of “things don’t change, just your perspective changes.” The truth was my daughter’s view of our family did not change the facts about our family at all. Sadly, the only thing her perspective did change was her attitude and actions, making us very aware of how unhappy certain things about our family made her feel.
This brings an even deeper truth to the danger. When the times of darkness come, my perspective will be immediately changed, and if I begin to live as though there were no concrete items (beliefs) in my life, the danger only increases. Because, sadly, if left alone in the dark, I, like every other human being on Earth, am capable of believing my newfound perspective is the right one.
So, I need to have absolute, concrete truths in my life that will not disappear, even when darkness comes and my perspective is changed. I need real things to bump into reminding me I am making decisions alone in the dark. I also need to have others who know me and know my life to remind me of these so that during the times I do not have control over the darkness, like the electrical blackouts that come during a summer storm, my friends can help guide me. Or they will shout out, in an attempt to help save me from myself during the times I actually choose to close my eyes and walk around in the dark, stumbling, cursing and causing unneeded pain.
I am not saying changing our perspectives is always wrong, I am saying we should not change our perspectives alone…in the dark. Because of my daughter’s courage and wise understanding of life, many times she has given me opportunities to grow and change my perspective in places where I had held narrow-minded or selfish views.
What I am saying is that the choices we make affect everyone who lives in community around us, so when we choose to change our perspective on things, understanding that our attitudes and actions will be altered as well, we must not do so in the dark…because choosing does not change things…it only changes us…
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
The Church, Capitalism and Christ by Susan Caldwell
While sitting in church one Sunday listening to a dear young man as he worked to communicate a message, one he was quite passionate about, I became aware of how often fear is used to control. I do not believe this was his intent to begin with. But as his emotions mounted so did his need for us to understand the gravity of the situation, and so “the” ultimatum was laid down; if we did not wish to spend eternity in hell we should do as he says.
Sadly, this did not shock me. This is a message that has become synonymous with the church in America, at least in my lifetime. The picture of a charismatic preacher yelling from a pulpit, “Turn or burn” quickly comes to mind. Although the stereotype of this (very wrong) way of coercing people into behaving or believing is attached to the church, the church did not invent this creative behavior modification. Yet, I do believe the church, like all of America, has sub-consciously bought into the greatest marketing scheme ever devised, frightening people into; behaving, believing, becoming what we want or need or the goal of true capitalism, consume a product, (which, in my opinion is the most brilliantly evil and morally corrupt way in which to control people).
I am wondering today if this is even possible…to live without fear. Has the message been so subtle over my whole lifetime that I am now only becoming aware of how much it controls me; my every daily thought and ultimately how I live each day? And, where does Jesus fit into this? Is this how He wants me to live, in constant fear?
And, am I more consumed with avoiding sin than seeing Christ? (…like the Pharisees?)
Am I more worried about how I will appear to others than receiving more of Christ? (“When I am weak He is strong”)
Am I afraid that He will not be enough? Am I afraid of being hurt, being betrayed, being misunderstood, being out of control? (Is this not exactly what Christ said would happen to us, if we decided to follow Him?)
How could God possibly be glorified in broken vessels? (“To those who have been forgiven little, love little”)
But, if we could be honest with ourselves (which fear makes it impossible to be) wouldn’t we say that what we are most afraid of is not being able to control those around us? And even this is not totally honest, because even deeper inside is the fear that we will be exposed, seen for whom we really are…and that all we have really accomplished so far in our lives (with Christ) is how to hide our sin from one another, because? Ultimately we are afraid…and the cycle continues.
So I will risk persecution and rejection to bring God’s message; an unpopular message, one that ironically we seem to fear the most and yet, is the only one that will bring us out of fear and into freedom. Christ broke the bondage of sin…shame on us for allowing our fears, even the fear of sin, to put us, or others back into bondage.
So I boldly say to myself (and anyone who chooses to hear);
There is no condemnation in Christ Jesus
Perfect Love casts out all fear
If we say we have no sin, the truth is not in us…(this is a present verb usage…not past tense).
If, we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
I will lean on these words of truth and attempt to change the course of my life…I do not wish to live one more day in fear…nor do I want to place anyone under the bondage of slavery to fear…this world was never meant to be without sin…that is not our life goal in Jesus…avoiding sin…but claiming the One True Hope…Jesus Christ, this is our call; love one another, love God.
Be free then.
Live boldly.
Christ will sustain us.
Amen? Amen!
Sadly, this did not shock me. This is a message that has become synonymous with the church in America, at least in my lifetime. The picture of a charismatic preacher yelling from a pulpit, “Turn or burn” quickly comes to mind. Although the stereotype of this (very wrong) way of coercing people into behaving or believing is attached to the church, the church did not invent this creative behavior modification. Yet, I do believe the church, like all of America, has sub-consciously bought into the greatest marketing scheme ever devised, frightening people into; behaving, believing, becoming what we want or need or the goal of true capitalism, consume a product, (which, in my opinion is the most brilliantly evil and morally corrupt way in which to control people).
I am wondering today if this is even possible…to live without fear. Has the message been so subtle over my whole lifetime that I am now only becoming aware of how much it controls me; my every daily thought and ultimately how I live each day? And, where does Jesus fit into this? Is this how He wants me to live, in constant fear?
And, am I more consumed with avoiding sin than seeing Christ? (…like the Pharisees?)
Am I more worried about how I will appear to others than receiving more of Christ? (“When I am weak He is strong”)
Am I afraid that He will not be enough? Am I afraid of being hurt, being betrayed, being misunderstood, being out of control? (Is this not exactly what Christ said would happen to us, if we decided to follow Him?)
How could God possibly be glorified in broken vessels? (“To those who have been forgiven little, love little”)
But, if we could be honest with ourselves (which fear makes it impossible to be) wouldn’t we say that what we are most afraid of is not being able to control those around us? And even this is not totally honest, because even deeper inside is the fear that we will be exposed, seen for whom we really are…and that all we have really accomplished so far in our lives (with Christ) is how to hide our sin from one another, because? Ultimately we are afraid…and the cycle continues.
So I will risk persecution and rejection to bring God’s message; an unpopular message, one that ironically we seem to fear the most and yet, is the only one that will bring us out of fear and into freedom. Christ broke the bondage of sin…shame on us for allowing our fears, even the fear of sin, to put us, or others back into bondage.
So I boldly say to myself (and anyone who chooses to hear);
There is no condemnation in Christ Jesus
Perfect Love casts out all fear
If we say we have no sin, the truth is not in us…(this is a present verb usage…not past tense).
If, we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
I will lean on these words of truth and attempt to change the course of my life…I do not wish to live one more day in fear…nor do I want to place anyone under the bondage of slavery to fear…this world was never meant to be without sin…that is not our life goal in Jesus…avoiding sin…but claiming the One True Hope…Jesus Christ, this is our call; love one another, love God.
Be free then.
Live boldly.
Christ will sustain us.
Amen? Amen!
Monday, May 08, 2006
"...and the winner is...."
As I watch my youngest daughter read The Canterbury Tales I am amazed that she is able to read the works of Chaucer and grasp the human condition: Our inability to reconcile with that which we know our true selves to be, to that which we aspire to but shall never attain (my layman’s definition). This medieval novel chronicles the stories told by fellow travelers who are competing with one another for the favor of their host. So, the story telling begins.
“The Knight’s Tale” is about wars won and lost over love, with death being the final equalizer. The Miller, Cook and Reeve’s stories are about foolish choices driven by pride and fear, all of them ending in acts of unfaithfulness and loss. Then there are the stories of how pride comes before a fall and how most people are self-centered, therefore believing they are exempt from the danger or sin or foolishness that is in the world. Then all too quickly they find their self-perception wrong as they become blindsided victims. There are stories about those who are virtuous; whose unfailing devotion to their faith, or their spouses, or their king, told along the way. Yet sadly, these stories seem to be few in comparison and almost always told with an air of superiority.
I think we are not unlike the pilgrims in Chaucer’s story. I can see these same stories unfolding in front of me as I travel the road of life with my friends and family. And I find myself wondering why is it we have not learned from these stories the morals and absolutes that have been proven time and time again throughout history?
If, as a literary genius once observed, there are only 7 plot lines throughout all of human history, how can we be so afraid of our own stories? The story I tell today may not be one of betrayal or deceit or murder, but I have known and lived the realities of all of these. I am hopefully not making any foolish choices at the moment, choices that could lead me to sell my birthright or allow an innocent to pay for my debts or losses. But these also are stories of my life. And if not this day, certainly on others I have allowed pride to keep me from seeing truth, giving life, love or forgiveness, and in doing so have lost what I claimed was most dear. Making me, I believe a hypocrite.
Most of the stories I have to tell have in them one if not more of the seven deadly sins; Lust, greed, gluttony, pride, anger, avarice and sadness. (Could these be the 7 plot lines?) But also within each of my stories lies the hope of redemption. If not through the presence of a gift of the spirit; love, joy, peace, longsuffering, goodness, faith or meekness/temperance (which may have been manifested through that situation), then it is only one world away and will come through One who does redeem all things unto Himself.
Here’s the goofiest part. I want to learn from these pilgrims telling their tales on the way to Canterbury and back…with the greatest hope being I will not have any more foolish stories of my own to tell. Yet, I can see that I am exactly the same as each one of them. I am the Friar. I am the Monk. I am the Nun’s priest. I am all who react in defensiveness and all who retort in a pride-filled self. If by chance one of my stories starts with a virtuous act, it is but a chapter or two later I will find myself selling out and back to being one who needs redemption. If I hear a story that makes me feel inferior, uncovered or just plain stupid, I am driven to tell a story that might elevate me or at very least try and remove those around me from their “high horse”. You know, so that none may appear to be the winner of the competition for the best story.
Even though we are not characters in this book…we all appear to be living like them.
You’d think this would make us laugh, or be just a bit more secure in ourselves, when we see these pilgrims reflecting our behavior and (pre)telling our stories. Shouldn’t this bring us peace, remove fear and draw us closer to one another when the fear of our stories being singled out and seen as; the worst, the saddest, the least hopeful, the least virtuous the one that has no moral teaching or true absolute, is wiped away because we can find hope in knowing ours is not the only story that ends with the need for redemption.
“For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”
“If I say I have no sin, I deceive myself and the Truth is not in me.”
“The Knight’s Tale” is about wars won and lost over love, with death being the final equalizer. The Miller, Cook and Reeve’s stories are about foolish choices driven by pride and fear, all of them ending in acts of unfaithfulness and loss. Then there are the stories of how pride comes before a fall and how most people are self-centered, therefore believing they are exempt from the danger or sin or foolishness that is in the world. Then all too quickly they find their self-perception wrong as they become blindsided victims. There are stories about those who are virtuous; whose unfailing devotion to their faith, or their spouses, or their king, told along the way. Yet sadly, these stories seem to be few in comparison and almost always told with an air of superiority.
I think we are not unlike the pilgrims in Chaucer’s story. I can see these same stories unfolding in front of me as I travel the road of life with my friends and family. And I find myself wondering why is it we have not learned from these stories the morals and absolutes that have been proven time and time again throughout history?
If, as a literary genius once observed, there are only 7 plot lines throughout all of human history, how can we be so afraid of our own stories? The story I tell today may not be one of betrayal or deceit or murder, but I have known and lived the realities of all of these. I am hopefully not making any foolish choices at the moment, choices that could lead me to sell my birthright or allow an innocent to pay for my debts or losses. But these also are stories of my life. And if not this day, certainly on others I have allowed pride to keep me from seeing truth, giving life, love or forgiveness, and in doing so have lost what I claimed was most dear. Making me, I believe a hypocrite.
Most of the stories I have to tell have in them one if not more of the seven deadly sins; Lust, greed, gluttony, pride, anger, avarice and sadness. (Could these be the 7 plot lines?) But also within each of my stories lies the hope of redemption. If not through the presence of a gift of the spirit; love, joy, peace, longsuffering, goodness, faith or meekness/temperance (which may have been manifested through that situation), then it is only one world away and will come through One who does redeem all things unto Himself.
Here’s the goofiest part. I want to learn from these pilgrims telling their tales on the way to Canterbury and back…with the greatest hope being I will not have any more foolish stories of my own to tell. Yet, I can see that I am exactly the same as each one of them. I am the Friar. I am the Monk. I am the Nun’s priest. I am all who react in defensiveness and all who retort in a pride-filled self. If by chance one of my stories starts with a virtuous act, it is but a chapter or two later I will find myself selling out and back to being one who needs redemption. If I hear a story that makes me feel inferior, uncovered or just plain stupid, I am driven to tell a story that might elevate me or at very least try and remove those around me from their “high horse”. You know, so that none may appear to be the winner of the competition for the best story.
Even though we are not characters in this book…we all appear to be living like them.
You’d think this would make us laugh, or be just a bit more secure in ourselves, when we see these pilgrims reflecting our behavior and (pre)telling our stories. Shouldn’t this bring us peace, remove fear and draw us closer to one another when the fear of our stories being singled out and seen as; the worst, the saddest, the least hopeful, the least virtuous the one that has no moral teaching or true absolute, is wiped away because we can find hope in knowing ours is not the only story that ends with the need for redemption.
“For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”
“If I say I have no sin, I deceive myself and the Truth is not in me.”
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
A Sustaining Moral Nourishment by Susan Caldwell
It was in my first and only year of college where I encountered a very real life saving and sustaining source of moral nourishment.
He was my freshman English teacher. He was teaching at a small private Christian college. He was divorced, which I think must have made him a bit unpopular with the other teachers. He was a magnet for me. He was unpolished, unconventional and in every way appeared out of place in this environment; he was my favorite teacher. He smoked, a smell that always preceded him into the classroom. His hair was long his clothes wrinkle and he always looked disheveled. I don’t remember turning in a single assignment all year, or ever being given one. It was my favorite class.
But this is what I remember most about him. After I failed at a suicide attempt, he just showed up. He sort of took an interest in me. I don’t remember thinking it was odd at the time. But over the years I can look back and see how intentional it was. He sought me out. He took the time to be with me. He was never inappropriate, always kind and in a way, fatherly. But, he never tried to fix me. He didn’t judge me, or lecture me. He just showed up and spent time with me. I was self-centered, self-absorbed ungrateful and never even thought about why he was doing what he was doing. I never asked him about himself. I never thanked him for helping me. I didn’t even recognize I needed help. He even helped me get a job then drove me back and forth to it for the remainder of that school year. Throughout the summer that followed he still called and once he took me to get a burger. I never saw him again after that.
He took his own life a few years later.
The greatest value I foraged in my life came from a person who didn’t fit in; who didn’t seem to have any of the right answers to life. He certainly didn’t look like he had it all together. His own life broken and his heart deeply wounded. Some wounds made by his own hand, some from the actions of others. He gave me the one gift I needed most in life. He gave me a sense of worth and self-value; and it came by his spending time with me, by listening to me. I was young, immature, unsophisticated and naïve I had little to say that was of importance, and still he just listened. He was the one person who was there when it mattered and he brought with him what I needed most. Hope.
He taught me through his actions people matter. They have value; their lives count for something. I thought because of some actions I had done in my life, I had no more worth. Believing I was damaged, ...what good could I ever possibly be to anyone? And this dear man, who probably looked as forlorn as I felt, told me through his actions that I mattered and that my life could be of use. I have tried to emulate his behavior as often as possible throughout these past 30 years by carrying with me this one defining value; All people long to be loved and believe in. Helping those around me to feel they belong; have purpose and meaning and that their life matters continues to provide daily moral nurishment to my soul.
He was my freshman English teacher. He was teaching at a small private Christian college. He was divorced, which I think must have made him a bit unpopular with the other teachers. He was a magnet for me. He was unpolished, unconventional and in every way appeared out of place in this environment; he was my favorite teacher. He smoked, a smell that always preceded him into the classroom. His hair was long his clothes wrinkle and he always looked disheveled. I don’t remember turning in a single assignment all year, or ever being given one. It was my favorite class.
But this is what I remember most about him. After I failed at a suicide attempt, he just showed up. He sort of took an interest in me. I don’t remember thinking it was odd at the time. But over the years I can look back and see how intentional it was. He sought me out. He took the time to be with me. He was never inappropriate, always kind and in a way, fatherly. But, he never tried to fix me. He didn’t judge me, or lecture me. He just showed up and spent time with me. I was self-centered, self-absorbed ungrateful and never even thought about why he was doing what he was doing. I never asked him about himself. I never thanked him for helping me. I didn’t even recognize I needed help. He even helped me get a job then drove me back and forth to it for the remainder of that school year. Throughout the summer that followed he still called and once he took me to get a burger. I never saw him again after that.
He took his own life a few years later.
The greatest value I foraged in my life came from a person who didn’t fit in; who didn’t seem to have any of the right answers to life. He certainly didn’t look like he had it all together. His own life broken and his heart deeply wounded. Some wounds made by his own hand, some from the actions of others. He gave me the one gift I needed most in life. He gave me a sense of worth and self-value; and it came by his spending time with me, by listening to me. I was young, immature, unsophisticated and naïve I had little to say that was of importance, and still he just listened. He was the one person who was there when it mattered and he brought with him what I needed most. Hope.
He taught me through his actions people matter. They have value; their lives count for something. I thought because of some actions I had done in my life, I had no more worth. Believing I was damaged, ...what good could I ever possibly be to anyone? And this dear man, who probably looked as forlorn as I felt, told me through his actions that I mattered and that my life could be of use. I have tried to emulate his behavior as often as possible throughout these past 30 years by carrying with me this one defining value; All people long to be loved and believe in. Helping those around me to feel they belong; have purpose and meaning and that their life matters continues to provide daily moral nurishment to my soul.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Green with Humility? by Susan Caldwell
Hedonistic cultures increase the need for all those who can hide their disfigurements and ill wanted actions to desperately to do so. I once read a book where the main character was green. Being green on the outside would make it difficult for anyone to live undetected most especially in a community that aspired to outward beauty and social charm. The make believe country in which this green individual lives is such a place. The ironic twist was that although labeled as “wicked”, undesirable and unattractive when measured against her cultures’ definition of good, she would prove to be more honest and gallant than those around her whose physical beauty and social graces were publicly esteemed.
I like to think of being green, as being real. And being real to me is being fully human. That means accepting my disfigurements and taking responsibility for my moral imperfections. Yet, I know green is not the desired look in our society, either. The constant struggle is not to succumb to my culturally trained instinct of hiding my true nature in the hope of appearing to achieve our cultures definition of good, while still aiming for a higher moral standard and the eternal true good.
This dilemma carries over and seems most apparent, as I look at my spiritual journey. Although aspiring to live by what is good and true is the goal, no person that I know of has yet to meet the standard of perfection. (And here ironically, perfection really does mean not being green.) Therefore guaranteeing any attempt at achieving godliness will bring failure because I am green. The truth is no one can follow a belief system that calls him or her to emulate a perfect standard.
It is here that the Savior enters. He is the Truth, the Perfect Standard, and the One I am to emulate and bringing with him the gift of grace. “It is by grace you have been saved.” And now the real tension begins. What I really want grace to be is a new standard of perfection using me as the measure. But that is not what is being offered. I used to think grace was what covered my shortcomings; or to keep with the analogy of being green, grace was camouflage. Okay, well if not that then maybe grace was what would eventually change me or would help me to appear less green by diluting my color little by little. Since I am still as green as ever, that’s not proving to be true.
Perhaps then what grace does is set us free, free to keep aiming at truth all of our green lives regardless of the outcome. And grace must have truth as its standard or it is valueless. Truth and grace are often seen (and treated) as mutually exclusive. Maybe there were meant to be inseparable. It isn’t so much that they need each other, as it is they together produce the end result we are all able to achieve.
I am left then with this dilemma. When I choose this standard of truth and grace by which to measure my life, what then is the outcome of my efforts? Humility.
I like to think of being green, as being real. And being real to me is being fully human. That means accepting my disfigurements and taking responsibility for my moral imperfections. Yet, I know green is not the desired look in our society, either. The constant struggle is not to succumb to my culturally trained instinct of hiding my true nature in the hope of appearing to achieve our cultures definition of good, while still aiming for a higher moral standard and the eternal true good.
This dilemma carries over and seems most apparent, as I look at my spiritual journey. Although aspiring to live by what is good and true is the goal, no person that I know of has yet to meet the standard of perfection. (And here ironically, perfection really does mean not being green.) Therefore guaranteeing any attempt at achieving godliness will bring failure because I am green. The truth is no one can follow a belief system that calls him or her to emulate a perfect standard.
It is here that the Savior enters. He is the Truth, the Perfect Standard, and the One I am to emulate and bringing with him the gift of grace. “It is by grace you have been saved.” And now the real tension begins. What I really want grace to be is a new standard of perfection using me as the measure. But that is not what is being offered. I used to think grace was what covered my shortcomings; or to keep with the analogy of being green, grace was camouflage. Okay, well if not that then maybe grace was what would eventually change me or would help me to appear less green by diluting my color little by little. Since I am still as green as ever, that’s not proving to be true.
Perhaps then what grace does is set us free, free to keep aiming at truth all of our green lives regardless of the outcome. And grace must have truth as its standard or it is valueless. Truth and grace are often seen (and treated) as mutually exclusive. Maybe there were meant to be inseparable. It isn’t so much that they need each other, as it is they together produce the end result we are all able to achieve.
I am left then with this dilemma. When I choose this standard of truth and grace by which to measure my life, what then is the outcome of my efforts? Humility.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
How Do I Love Thee??? by Susan Caldwell
I am really struggling today with what love looks like. And sadly I am coming to the conclusion that my definition of love looks an awful lot like my definition of God, it looks a lot like me or perhaps it is the one characteristic of God that for me carries the most power, the desire to reflect what I value most about who I think God is. Justice. Years ago I found a bible verse that affirmed my nature and gave my definition of love credibility. Micah 6:8b “ …to do justice, love kindness and to walk humbly with God.”
Because the emotions/actions called for in this verse are ones I am able to achieve, this became my definition of loving God. I certainly was not going to look up 1Corinthians 13, Paul’s chapter on love and use that as my model for defining love. That definition, I decided was not how I was to love, it is how God loves us. It is word for word the list of God’s true character, His very nature. Not ours.
To use this as the model by which I am to love all others leaves me, well, unable to love anyone. Because I cannot by nature, love this way. My nature is one of selfishness. I love others for the sole purpose of what I may get from the relationship. This is even why I try to love God. For the same reasons I try to love anyone, in the hope that they will love me in return; that my needs will be met, that I will not be alone, afraid, or unhappy; that I would be good, seen as good, obedient and more powerful. Even if I could give up what seems to be a desire to control others by loving selflessly I would still hope that God would love and provide for me (thereby meeting all my needs).
Maybe I am not alone here. Maybe we all do this.
So what then is the answer? If I continue to love others with my definition of love even though they are only able to receive their own definition of love, they will reject my love and neither of us get what we are hoping for. I don’t get loved and others don’t feel loved.
When my oldest daughter was four years old she suddenly exclaimed from the back seat, “Are you going to be a good Mom or a bad Mom today?!”
“Are you going to get me a Slurpee or not?!”
Suddenly my entire weight of glory as a Mother hung in the balance. If we were heading home for dinner getting her a Slurpee at that time would be the defined by most people as a “bad Mom”. So the truth was by whose definition did I want to be measured by?
This is how I think we approach loving each too. We decide when, where and by whose definition we will love.
So what do I cling to here for hope…That God’s character, his very nature is love and so even though we chose our definitions when and how and where we will love, he always chooses to measure us by his love.
Because the emotions/actions called for in this verse are ones I am able to achieve, this became my definition of loving God. I certainly was not going to look up 1Corinthians 13, Paul’s chapter on love and use that as my model for defining love. That definition, I decided was not how I was to love, it is how God loves us. It is word for word the list of God’s true character, His very nature. Not ours.
To use this as the model by which I am to love all others leaves me, well, unable to love anyone. Because I cannot by nature, love this way. My nature is one of selfishness. I love others for the sole purpose of what I may get from the relationship. This is even why I try to love God. For the same reasons I try to love anyone, in the hope that they will love me in return; that my needs will be met, that I will not be alone, afraid, or unhappy; that I would be good, seen as good, obedient and more powerful. Even if I could give up what seems to be a desire to control others by loving selflessly I would still hope that God would love and provide for me (thereby meeting all my needs).
Maybe I am not alone here. Maybe we all do this.
So what then is the answer? If I continue to love others with my definition of love even though they are only able to receive their own definition of love, they will reject my love and neither of us get what we are hoping for. I don’t get loved and others don’t feel loved.
When my oldest daughter was four years old she suddenly exclaimed from the back seat, “Are you going to be a good Mom or a bad Mom today?!”
“Are you going to get me a Slurpee or not?!”
Suddenly my entire weight of glory as a Mother hung in the balance. If we were heading home for dinner getting her a Slurpee at that time would be the defined by most people as a “bad Mom”. So the truth was by whose definition did I want to be measured by?
This is how I think we approach loving each too. We decide when, where and by whose definition we will love.
So what do I cling to here for hope…That God’s character, his very nature is love and so even though we chose our definitions when and how and where we will love, he always chooses to measure us by his love.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
To be me or not to be me... by Susan Caldwell
“To be or not to be, --that is the question:--Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortuneOr to take arms against a sea of troubles,And by opposing end them?"
Although this quote is from Hamlet I was drawn to it while reading King Lear.
In the play King Lear, when Cordelia cannot express her love for her father in a way that he desires to hear it…she is not only cut out of the will, she is completely disowned. I can’t help but wonder here, if she was not thinking…whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them? Okay well at least that is how I have often felt when faced with whether or not to speak up about family issues…which by the way, can carry with them a similar end.
Honest, courageous, family-less, misunderstood Cordelia, her life would have been so much easier if she would have just kept her mouth shut…or more truthfully filled it with placating untruths.
Shakespeare may have written most of his plays about kingdoms and leadership and love but under scoring all was some child/parent/sister/mother/brother/father working out the tension between to be or not to be honest with your family members.
And if Shakespeare couldn’t figure it out, genius that he was, I am not sure I am ever going to get it right. I do know Cordelia ends up proving her love to be true even if it was not understood from the beginning. This then becomes my hope, that I will not be cast too far away from the kingdom so that if/when seen my actions may be understood, even when my words are not.
Although this quote is from Hamlet I was drawn to it while reading King Lear.
In the play King Lear, when Cordelia cannot express her love for her father in a way that he desires to hear it…she is not only cut out of the will, she is completely disowned. I can’t help but wonder here, if she was not thinking…whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them? Okay well at least that is how I have often felt when faced with whether or not to speak up about family issues…which by the way, can carry with them a similar end.
Honest, courageous, family-less, misunderstood Cordelia, her life would have been so much easier if she would have just kept her mouth shut…or more truthfully filled it with placating untruths.
Shakespeare may have written most of his plays about kingdoms and leadership and love but under scoring all was some child/parent/sister/mother/brother/father working out the tension between to be or not to be honest with your family members.
And if Shakespeare couldn’t figure it out, genius that he was, I am not sure I am ever going to get it right. I do know Cordelia ends up proving her love to be true even if it was not understood from the beginning. This then becomes my hope, that I will not be cast too far away from the kingdom so that if/when seen my actions may be understood, even when my words are not.
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