Children are perphaps my favourite kind of people. Qualities of inquisitiveness, candidness, and appreciation of life are so apparent in their makeup, and the fact that these traits often fade as we age is saddening. I read The Little Prince last night, for likely the thirtieth trillionth time, and was again struck by how errant us "grown ups" are in how we perceive life. While this book is charmingly farcical, it's also quite pointed in how it makes light of adults and their absurdity. We may gain knowledge and accumulate facts as we advance in years, but it seems that there's a tendency for us to increasingly allow certain experiences and things learned to keep us from learning other things. The title character in the book is in awe at the loveliness of a tiny flower and its few petals, an attitude that's juxtaposed with the adult fixation on gaining wealth, power, and the admiration of others. Not only are the more mature foils of the little prince excessively focused on the ephemeral and insignificant aspects of life, but they are hardened. Their toughened hearts fail to exhibit the same compassion that the tenderhearted prince displays, and their self-centred motives lead them down paths of futility and insatiability. Although they've seen more than the young royal, their perspective has shrunk to the size of themselves alone. Sometimes I can feel myself becoming the adult that I don't want to be. I realize that humans in general are nasty creatures, and care a bit less about them. My kindness is abused and my naivete manipulated, and I no longer feel compelled to be altruistic, and giving the benefit of the doubt seems imprudent in some way. I'm determined to eschew these inclinations, however. As Jesus appreciated the value of a childish viewpoint, I wish to as well. No matter how many times kindness, friendliness, and consideration for others lead to creepy, irksome, or uncomfortable situations, there's no real excuse to be so absorbed in my adult-self that I think only of my own contentedness. There's no justification for me to lose sight of the amazing creation that God has blessed us with simply because I want an impressive GPA. I have no reason to search for others' love when God so freely offers His, and I'm commanded to share this love with others. There's so much more to be contemplated in The Little Prince, but there's really a horrific lack of time in this break between classes to type more. Really though, if you haven't read this book, you truly must. It's so beautifully written, and espouses so many wise ideas, in addition to the fact that its French and contains a plethora of pictures. Indeed, it would be an abomination to not read this book.
Be prepared for a convoluted entry; my thoughts right now are a bit convoluted. (In a good way! Although sometimes being challenged is humbling and disagreeable.) This week, I've been slightly annoyed by conversations with God. Not in a bad way of course, but I kind of wish I didn't have to hear what He's had to say over the past few days (quasi-rhyme!). It's inconvenient; as Al Gore would title a movie, it's "An Inconvenient Truth." If there were a spectrum of Christians in the world, I suspect that I would be on some sort of extreme. I dislike capitalism, the emphasis on having to get married, the self-righteousness, the ignorance, the guardedness, and boringness that characterizes at least much of Western Christianity. I don't really have a problem with being a black sheep in the Christian crowd; it challenges me to really know what I think, and look to Him for guidance. I comfort myself by thinking that if people think I'm crazy, Jesus will be my friend. But I don't know if I always live that out. It's much more pleasant to agree with at least some people. And I have to precede what I’ve been considering as of late with a disclaimer that I’m insanely blessed to have the friends and family in my life; a ginormous proportion of them are so compassionate, thoughtful, and intelligent about their faith that I feel seriously lucky. I suppose what I wish I had was a Christian culture that I fit into, something more defined, something that the Christian Right has I suppose. They’re very tightly knit, that Christian Right, and I suspect that I’m a tad bit envious of how they have people with whom they agree on everything. It’s silly to be envious of this, of course, because without discussion and conversation with people who will dare to differ, and can do so lovingly, it’s awfully tempting to remain stagnant in faith, and ignore how there’s so many more ways to grow in relationship with God.
Still though, it thrills me at times to think that people in this big planet we call Earth have seen the same things in Scripture, and have heard the same things in prayer. I really, really, really enjoy Donald Miller, and am very encouraged when I stumble across an article or blog of someone who differs from the status quo. A lot of times, these same people also love Apple computers, Sufjan Stevens and Death Cab for Cutie, reading Sylvia Plath, New York City, wearing Chuck Taylors, and making fun of George Bush. How delightful that there are people like me in this world! It would be really nice if I could join this club of Christians who I think are cool, and in some way feel allied with them. However. This week I’ve found that there are cracks in what a lot of people who are like me think. Donald Miller requires a big lot of money to go anywhere to speak; even if he had a massive entourage, the size of this honorarium would seem to contradict his chapter on money in Blue Like Jazz. Many of these people who are like my non-look-alike doppelgangers love to destroy the arguments of people who disagree with them, and are seemingly more destructive than constructive. Rather than being deeply sorrowful for some of the ways that the institution of Christianity is messed up, they indulge in destructive attacks when they could spend their breath being constructive. I’m also struck by the lack of reliance on Scripture. There’s this super right-wing Christian blog that helps me to get my bearings, and there are always people of a more progressive ilk who comment on what is said. The people who might say things that I concur with, though, rarely use the Bible to back up what they say, and chastise those who disagree with them for “relying only on the Bible.” What what what? I think it’s pretty hard to rely too much on the Bible. Often they’ll defend this assertion by saying that the Gospel was written from a cultural perspective. I agree to some extent with this, but this statement really only applies to issues of gender and social class in my eyes. Pretty much everything else in the Good Book is quite sound. They also seem to thrive on conflict (not debate) with other Christians; things like wearing dirty clothes to church and using profane language, while not directly sinful in my view, strikes me as simply unloving, and contrary to what Paul taught about accommodating others values.
Last night, my beautiful, sassy, genius sister of a best friend received an award from the Edmonton Public School Board for the top marks out of 350 grade 11 students at our fanny pack-tastic school Scona (go Lords! go EPSB!). My family’s had to go to many of these things, and usually we just whisper to each other about how terribly a certain trustee is speaking, how adorable the winner of the city-wide drama award is, or how hysterical it is that people get confused when shaking trustees’ hands. Last night was perhaps the best one we’ve been too. Not only did a choir sing Eine Kleine Nacht Musik a cappella, but the top grade 12 student in Edmonton had some truly inspiring words, and there was some gorgeous art and oboe music to be taken in over the course of the evening. Awards nights like these remind me of how important it is to live life well. This doesn’t necessarily mean getting top marks, making really cool sounds with a reed instrument, or starting a math competition club, but it does mean glorifying God with what He’s given you. It’s hard to really do that sometimes with my job, volunteering, school, family stuff, church, and a social life, but it’s inestimably important I think. On a series of unrelated tangents, Rona Ambrose’s inane ideas have been scrapped by the Conservatives, which makes me exceedingly happy. Also, when walking across the field in front of Corbett Hall in the rain, it is delightful to imagine you are Elizabeth Bennet. And finally, I think that Indira Samarasekera should encourage professors to make school less strenuous; I would appreciate that. Hope everything is well with you! You’re all pretty cool, just because I said so. (I need sleep. And less cold symptoms. These facts are likely evidenced by the preceding jumble of sentences.)
It did snow! It may have been a snowfall consisting of the slightly pathetic species of snowflakes that melt once they reach the ground, but there were snowflakes, and I was thrilled. The employment of snow socks is evidently highly effective; I’ve proven it scientifically. My dear friend Jil blogged recently about how often it is “un-motivation” that causes us to blog. Especially for those of us who are students, a lack of desire to engage in productive studying often translates into a desire to blog, and that was clearly the case on Monday night when my sociology notes were less than alluring. I certainly don’t envy those of you who have had multiple midterms this week; hopefully this weekend will be a bit more fun than I generally find concerning myself with GPAs and colouring in scantron bubbles with the good old HB #2. Learning is lovely, but writing exams is not-so-lovely. My Eskies are playing on Saturday afternoon, and I’m very hopeful that we’ll be able to regain our dignity and avenge our loss to the Argos last week. I’ll be there with my foam finger, good luck pom-poms, and other assorted green and gold regalia. Don’t lose hope yet fellow fans; we will make the playoffs, I have little doubt.
I often suspect that all you people who know me well find me highly predictable (though hopefully you'll continue to love me nonetheless!). My fondness for the absurd, enjoyment of the sky, disdain for conventional Christian culture and politics, sadness over our human nature, and intense stubbornness are rather reliable. So perhaps it should come as no surprise that I’ve been kind of distressed by the news over the past couple of days. The mounting death toll in Iraq (600,000?! while it’s likely not entirely accurate, that’s still abysmal), the Conservatives’ shoddy environmental policies, North Korea’s tragic penchant for nuclear weaponry, and the UN study on violence experienced by children have all dismayed to some extent. However, the reality of it is that while I’ll continue to pray for peace, parity, and a growing knowledge of Christ in this world, we’ll never reach a utopian state until Jesus comes back, because of the ramifications of Genesis 3. That’s really difficult for me to acknowledge. I get kind of weary of people asking why a good God lets bad things happen; it’s because that’s what we’ve chosen, because of big, bad, ugly sin. But I suppose I ask that less explicitly when I’m super perturbed with how messed up things are in this world. This is not to say that there isn’t an awful lot of beauty to soak up in life; when you really take time to listen to people, there’s nearly always something truly lovely to appreciate in each individual. God’s creation is unbelievably gorgeous, and there are so many things to be savoured by the five senses every day. It Is a struggle, for me at least, to balance recognition of our need for God with recognition of the massive blessings in life.
I was convicted on Sunday by Blaine’s challenge to be thankful for three of the greatest adversities in my life. The one struggle in my life that always sticks out now is leaving my old church; that was a seriously difficult transition, and it’s still odd at times not fellowshipping with that group of people on at least a weekly basis. It was something I prayed about a great deal, and I know that we were listening to God, but it was tough to rejoice in that. So much of my social support seemed distant all of the sudden, and it was tricky to be my strange self in a larger community. But, of course, looking back I can see how God used my weakness. I can see the many, many blessings that have come out of that time, and how He continues to build on what I initially found pretty unpleasant and stifling. I’ve posted a video I made in a moment of iMovie procrastination with leftover clips of a Nativity video we made. I think it fails to fully convey how cool the community at my old church is’ it’s awfully tricky to see their rich personalities and resilient spirits. But just trust me on how cool they are. This is a group of believers who dealt with so much anguish, and yet were some of the most loving, joyful people I’ve ever known in my life. I love, love, love them. It’s seriously hard to thank God for their lessened presence in my life. Conversely, though, it’s important for me to keep in mind that reliance on God isn’t just for those times when I especially feel the need for comfort and grace. I think this can be equally testing because it’s awfully tempting to take it all for granted and forget who’s given me this precious gift that we call life. I feel like I’ve just stated several enormously obvious things, but I suppose that while these facts are terribly apparent, they’re often easy to dismiss and ignore.
I am endeavouring to write something of substance, dear blog readers. With the advent of school and increasing insanity in my schedule, I've posted either pithy or trivial thoughts on the blog. I am, I know you've been waiting with bated breath to hear, doing well. This is not to say that I've said certain derogatory things about school at certain points, or that I haven't missed the lolling around under sunny skies that I did in the summer, but this time of year is far too beautiful not to savour. The changing winds that blow through my hair remind me of God's presence and make me feel buoyant and small; falling leaves and fading greens suggest life’s finite nature; the necessity for sweaters and scarves allow me to appreciate the loveliness of comfort; and the abundance of cushioning and crunchy leaves that line the ground oblige me to act entirely harebrained. What a beautiful time of year that God created; it seems clear to me that he created changing seasons so that our lives would be roused out of stagnancy. Everything in this world is transient. Nothing lives forever, and while there is a season for (nearly) everything, as time passes on so do the things of this world. Even through furling leaves, God can speak to us, and that strikes me as simply incredible. One doesn’t have to look far to see, or hear, God.
Jess and I were debating the personality characteristics of the seasons on Sunday (I like to attribute personalities to nearly all inanimate objects), and we came to the concurrence that fall is a time of peace and hebetude, not in the sense of lethargy, but rather in a meditative spirit. I find that putting my thinking cap back on with a slew of courses and reading to do, I'm prone to sloughing off invalidated and empty ideas. When I'm faced with the truth, even an academic, secular truth, the self-serving fallacies that I've allowed myself to buy into tend to deflate in comparison. It's painful to accept that I've been errant in my judgments, or have strayed from what God might have wanted, but obviously healthy and essential. It’s life, but it isn’t always fun, though. I’ve been exhausted at times this week, in part because of the increased workload at school and at the café. While I truly adore my job and the fact that my boss trusts me to be in charge when I’m on shift, it’s draining to feel like a bully with new staff who seem dreadfully averse to working hard. I’m used to working with my beautiful, selfless, hilarious, and understanding friends, with whom cooperation is the modus operandi to getting through a day at the café (that rhymed!). Alas, I’ve come to learn that most people are genuinely good people, but they don’t feel very compelled to exert themselves a great deal, which frustrates me to no end. It’s simply difficult to see others having things a bit easier, and ultimately getting away with it, which boils down to my personal jealousy I believe.
Life is not just; the injustice of life is inherent in my beliefs as a Christian, and I often fail to recognize how little I deserve what God gave for me. However, within these undeserved lives that we lead, there is an injustice between people that irks me in a likely insalubrious way. It drives me crazy that some of us at the café push ourselves to the point of fatigue while others prefer to watch their coworkers do their duties. It saddens me that Westerners keenly buy products from companies that crush the existence of the labourers who work in their sweat shops, and I’m horrified that a company would go so far as to murder union supporters in order to increase their profit margin. It breaks my heart that we, the fortunate followers of Christ, portray our faith as being about contempt, self-righteousness, ignorance, judgment, aggressiveness, and greed, when Christ demonstrated so clearly that it was to be about love, humility, God’s truth, grace, and benevolence. It irritates me that Canadians have elected a government that cares more about the destructive oil industry and profits of the wealthy than they do about our haggard environment, struggling impoverished, or war-torn world. It sickens me that I live on a continent where the terribly tragic deaths of five Amish girls pale in comparison to the thousands that have died, and continue to be killed, in Iraq, Sudan, Somalia, Uganda, Israel, Yemen, and numerous other places. It discourages me that institutions including the World Bank and IMF manipulate the poor countries of the Third World in order to better the economies of already booming First World nations. It frightens me that the Christian Right repeatedly dismisses matters of social justice, preferring to argue that a right-wing government would stop abortions and gay marriage (which, not at all shockingly, they haven’t). I could go on, but I realize that it gets redundant.
It just strikes me that in the supposedly egalitarian societies of the West, equality is not a priority in many respects. While we have incorporated the ideal of parity into our laws and Charter, we rarely do in our policies or lives, and that’s simply because we’re humans and we’re living this unfair thing called life. It’s just hard for me to be reconciled with that some of the time, especially when the group that I identify myself with, Christians, seem less concerned than most other groups about those people who might be in desperate need of some love. I have a beef with capitalism for this reason; it requires people to suffer more than others in order to work. Anything that necessitates disproportionate difficulty dismays me. The wealthy do not need more money; any income past $40,000 has been scientifically proven to not make one significantly happier. If our society used all this income past the $40,000 mark and distributed it to those living under the poverty line giving them a little grace, I would rest easier. This, my friends, is what socialism might look like, which is another story entirely (and one that I need to write for Dusty in essay form). Suffice it to say that I am unsatisfied with how our society turns a blind eye to attention-worthy inequalities. In particular, I find it upsetting that it is Christians, as a result of factors varying from Calvinism to our desire to be isolated from the rest of the world, have become largely identified with the idea of capitalism. Ideas that the most skilled and money-driven in our society should live more at ease seem to promote the idea that one’s goal in life should be happiness, wealth, selfish living, and assertion of their own interests. This runs contrary to Jesus’ teachings of love and the Beatitudes, which endorse nearly opposite values. This makes me sad.
However, God is immeasurably good, and there are a zillion other things that have thrilled me as of late, despite the grim presence of midterms and work drama. Through the wonders of the internet, I have found that there are other Christians who boycott and think differently about their faith, who aren’t Donald Miller. This elates me immensely. Also on the interweb, I have enjoyed Flickr a great deal in the past while as well, and am prone to using it as a tool of procrastination far too often. There are loads of great movies coming out in the next little while, and I’ve been tipped off to several great bands as of late. And finally on the subject of the internet, I have discovered a Thanksgiving greeting that Nicole and I were repeatedly delighted by while watching American television in NYC. Enjoy. May you be thankful and Thanksgiving full.
