Living in the Tension

I’m often struck by the dialectics that define our lives. So often, we are required to balance the various aspects of our lives and find where we fit amongst the extremes of this world. Rarely is spending all of my energy on one activity, dwelling excessively on one line of thought, or identifying with a fundamentalist belief a very wise course of action. Instead, I think that life is lived most fully when we embrace the tension that defines it. Life is messy, and imagining it to be black and white is rather ignorant in my estimation. Fleshing through life’s muddledness can be tricky, and it’s often easier to deny the mess that we find ourselves in. In my experience, Christians especially get caught in this trap of pretending that life is uncomplicated. While the truth of life is remarkably simple (God loves you, Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life; end of story), I’ve found that living this truth out is anything but clear-cut. Without God’s guidance and dialogue with others in my life, life can get awfully confusing awfully fast. How do I live in the world, but not be of it? Am I dismissing the command to love God sometimes when I concentrate so heavily on the command to love others? When do I need to go beyond saying the “nice” thing, and be candid? Questions like these are tricky to flesh out on my own. But I think failing to recognize that life is complicated means that we miss out on the full potential of life; working through the complications is ultimately so gratifying, and always takes me closer to the truth.


So often, North American Christians have supported black and white ideas like the “if you’re not with us, you’re against us” notion, despite Jesus’ converse words in Mark 9: “whoever is not against us is for us.” Jesus teaches that the weak are strong, and says, “blessed are the meek;” straightforward logic would contradict these statements. Life is not always straightforward, though. My favourite chapter in Rob Bell’s Sex God is the one titled “Angels and Animals” which pursues Blaise Pascal’s (AKA Bono in the Lobe household) idea that “man is neither angel nor beast.” In the context of Rob Bell’s book, this means that the church’s tendency to view ourselves as angels without flesh and a sexual side misses the point, while living as if we’re untamable animals isn’t any better, of course. Instead, recognizing the tension that exists between these two extremes, and working through this tension, is where we find the truth. I feel the struggle to flesh out life’s messiness most strongly at Easter. The days between Good Friday and Easter Sunday can be so strange because I want to remember Jesus’ sacrifice and the fact that my sin put Him on that cross, but at the same time I know that He lives again, and lives in me. (If you’re reading this, Caitlin, you’re not allowed to make fun! I know this sounds absurd. It’s true though. Too bad. Sometimes the most absurd things are the most true.)

I miss Zion a lot at Easter and Christmas, but McKernan really does have a beautiful Good Friday service that makes up for its lack of Zion-ness. Everyone takes Communion receives prayer at some point, and it’s a time of vulnerability, the kind of vulnerability that I miss from Zion. It’s a time of Communion, not just in the sense of the Eucharistic rite, but also in the sense of fellowship. I’m always struck in moments like these by the ache that people normally hide when they’re being invulnerable. Seeing people’s hurt on Friday, and thinking of Christ’s pain from the physical anguish and our heart-breaking betrayal, I feel especially aware of life’s ugliness and injustice and difficulty. Of course, I was also struck in this moment by the fact that we’re able to be in communion and receive salvation through Jesus’ blood. There was a tension in my mind between contrasting sentiments, but it was a tension that led me to a fuller understanding of that day’s significance. I want to live in the reality of life’s pain, whether it’s friends who are struggling, the suffering that so many people face on a daily basis, friends at work and school not knowing that Good Friday was for them, missing my old church, recognizing that it was my sin that held Him there, or simply wishing my grandparents were in town for Easter.


Of course, I want to rejoice always, and live in the reality of life’s beauty as well. I spent the morning with my oh-so-lovable family, remembered Jesus’ self-sacrificing love with a church that I care about very much, cooked a turkey dinner with some beautiful friends, walked around in the chilly-but-sunny Albertan spring, and spent the evening with some of my favourite people enjoying fellowship, silliness, and food (even under-appreciated hot cross buns and red Ecuadorian bananas). Matt, my corn-loathing friend behind such hit albums as Can You Say Indie? Volume 3: A Collection of Kintrasts, sent me Vega 4’s “Life Is Beautiful” a while ago, the chorus of which goes “life is beautiful, but it’s complicated.” It’s incredibly cliché, but true nonetheless. No matter how tough the going gets, I’ll always know God’s love and grace, which matter infinitely more than anything else. Even when life is easy peas, though, I don’t want to stop praying for friends who don’t know God’s love, I don’t want to become complacent, and I want to be able to share the burdens of others and hurt when they hurt. Life is messy, and I want to be willing to get dirty in the muddled disorder. There’s a tension in living between Jesus’ salvation-giving sacrifice and the time when God will restore everything, and there’s a tension in being part of an upside down Kingdom, and I embrace that tension.

On another tangent, I’ve become increasingly aware of the fact that, as Mr. Longbrake puts it, the less you have, the better off you are. I was bothered by my love of clothes and pretty furniture last fall, and have been praying about it since then. I don’t really want to want possessions, but it’s hard for me to shut off that desire. God’s somehow managed to convince me of this truth (in the way that my heart knows it, not just my head), and I’m caring decreasingly about these things. There’s nothing very profound about my diminished desire to consume, but I’ve found it to be quite encouraging and freeing to know deep-down that I don’t need things, and that God can work in me in ways that don’t seem at all plausible. I finished Sex God the other week, and Rob Bell speaks on lust for a portion of the book. Lust, as Bell paints it, is about buying into the promise that something will gratify and fulfill us in a way that nothing but God really can. Whether it’s sex, the admiration of others, pretty turquoise Lux ballet flats from Urban Outfitters that cost $39, or a trip to NYC, the good in these things is ultimately meant to point to God and live in the joy that He intended for us; these things were not meant to replace God. I’m not a very big fan of capitalism, and our small group was pondering the inescapability of “the system” in our society last week. We can’t really not go to school and subvert the get-a-job and make-a-living way of life in North America, because each of us is best equipped to love others by following this system to some extent in a capitalistic society. But as Shane Claiborne writes, we’re called to do “small things with great love,” whether in Calcutta, the grocery store, or our workplaces. It kind of stinks that I have to be a part of this system, but God can work even in this greed-based society that we’ve created (amazingly enough).


I would just like to reiterate how beautiful life is as I wrap up today’s blog entry. This morning, I woke up at 5:30 for some reason or other, and the sky was too beautiful to not get up and enjoy. I love orange skies, no matter what C&C non-city friends say about the city sky. The orange just looks so warm, and reminds me that there are people all around me contributing to the orangeness of the sky in some indirect way. Especially at 5:30 in the morning, God’s presence is so very apparent, even in the sky and falling snow and frosty wind. I was pondering God and life and people (the best things to ponder, of course), and the sky became the most remarkable shade of indigo purple. It was a beautiful moment, and it was so clear that God is so much bigger than anything else I’m facing. He’s bigger than the hardships of my friends, the things that money can buy, the poverty and injustice that exist in this world, and my exams and assignments and readings. He’s much bigger than even the sky, which is, of course, the biggest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. There’s not really anything more comforting than that. Not that His bigness or the backwardness of capitalism and competition give me an excuse to not care about any of the aforementioned things, but the fact that He loves me unconditionally and matters more than any of these things gives me a great deal of peace. And with that, I’m off to study! I trust that you’re all enjoying the snow rather than bemoaning it ceaselessly, as has become a trend at work. It’s cold and a nuisance, and really not suitable for springtime, but if you resolve to enjoy its delicate prettiness, it’s much more bearable.

P.S. Any of you who voted for peas on Saturday night have pained me deeply. Your betrayal was very harsh, and I don’t think I will ever cook corn for you again. Except that I will cook it again because you must all learn that corn is FAR superior to putrescent peas.
P.P.S. I am currently in love with Patrick Watson’s “The Great Escape.” Find a copy of it for yourself; he’s my latest favourite Canadian artist.
P.P.P.S. John Mayer is here in 18 days! And then Feist! And the Police! Plus, with K-Days, the Folk Fest, jazz concerts, and various other music fun, I’m exceedingly thrilled about the music that this summer has in store for Cait et al.
P.P.P.P.S. Jesus died for you. I pray that you know that deep-down.

Rules Schmules (Or Perhaps Not)

Quite often, I find rules to be ridiculous. The fact that brown belts can’t be paired with black shoes, that the commencement of a play must be greeted with applause, and the way in which guys often feel obligated to open doors exclusively for girls strikes me as kind of laughable. Ben (who is back!! I missed him!!) was arguing the merits of the latter item in that list this week, not surprisingly. His only explanation for why he feels compelled to open doors and pay for girls was based on the historical practice of such acts of chivalry. In truth, I’m not deeply troubled by boys opening doors for me, though sometimes I can’t help but giggle, nor am I going to refrain from clapping for a few moments when the curtains open at the Citadel just because I find it silly, but many implicit rules that our society has adopted are more significant and bothersome. Some rules have a profound impact on how we live day-to-day, and can be both unhelpful and unhealthy, whether it’s certain discussion-worthy topics becoming taboo, our unquestioning acceptance of some forms of authority, or the increasing unacceptability of greeting an unfamiliar passerby on walks down Whyte. Often, it’s Christian-created rules that bother me the most; I think it’s limiting to when we create set ways that we worship and pray in, make sometimes excessively-defined gender roles, and avoid acknowledging that we drink/dance/play poker (etcetera!) outside of church. I think it’s simplistic to think that there are set formulas that we can teach people to facilitate their courtship practices, “save” their non-Christian friends, maintain their sexual purity, be happy, and so on. People are individuals, and few formulas in life apply to everyone. If we want a formula, the combination of prayer, Bible-reading, and community generally diminish the need for silly “Ingredients to Success” lists. God created us to be individuals, and synthetic rules might be helpful to one person, but could easily be detrimental to another.


All this is to say that I’m not fond of certain manmade rules. But more than I’d like to think, my distaste for some expectations keeps me from recognizing the importance of truly important rules. I believe that God commanded us to do things for our own good; a command to be joyful has obvious merits, and even the not-so-obviously-valuable commandment not to covet is hard to argue with. God loves us, and wants us to live the rich lives, living this life can sometimes feel like a narrow path I think. This week, in various ways, I’ve seen how important some of these guidelines are, in situations that went south because of a lack of listening to God, or blessings that comes out of abiding by His rules even when it’s annoying and inconvenient (sometimes God asks me to do things that I find bothersome; I’ve found that it’s pretty much always a good idea to listen to Him though). The idea that as Christians, we should go to church on Sundays seems so rigid and arbitrary to me, but without consistent community and learning that a church body provides, it’s so hard to live “well” in that Christian sense, I think. God’s idea of marriage, too, is an idea that I am rather keen on, but a lot of people I talk about it with struggle with the restriction of it. When people do things their own way, it’ doesn’t always go so well. He’s shown me this week that He really does know best, and that when He’s not our Lord, things can get awfully messed up awfully fast. He never created these rules out of power-thirst; He created them out of love. I know this is vague, but I’ve found it to be a comfort this week to know that even when rules seem limiting and “fun-sucking,” as Crystal would say, they’re there for a reason. Despite my tendency to frown upon strange and arbitrary synthesized rules, there are rules that were made by Someone who knows better, and while my following them might sometimes seem futile, I’d like to think that it never really is.


I’ve been journaling about apathy and pride this week, neither of which are necessarily pleasant topics, but I’ve enjoyed the catharsis that comes along with writing about things. However, as I have decided from typing the past two paragraphs, some things aren’t blogged about so easily, so I shall refrain continuing my discussion of things learned this week! It’s been one of those weeks that is hectic and stressful, but somehow pleasant nonetheless. I’d be praying about something particular that was on my mind, and would open my devotionals, or turn to a page in my Bible, only to find that what I was reading something that addressed precisely what I’d been pondering. (At one point I was wondering to God what exactly a radical life looks like, as this is something I’ve been trying to define recently, and I opened my devotionals to find that that days’ readings were titled “A Radical Life.”) Sometimes there are just too many coincidences at once for all of them to be actual coincidences; I love when God’s presence is so very tangible. Friends, too, have brightened a taxing week. As aforementioned, Ben is back, and it was so good to catch up with him (I even enjoyed a violent, gender-stereotyping, intellectually limited film, which was quite momentous).

On the other end of the friend spectrum, my wonderful co-CJ friend, who likes to remain “Anonymous” in the blogosphere, met up with me for some iced Vietnamese coffee and chai today, and just chatting with her while sitting on strange tin chairs was so delightful. It’s nice to know that she’s remained as droll, clever, and lovely as she was in the days of mocking rat-loving LA teachers and lying about her father’s career (for more than two years!). She hooked me up with a cute little book on feminism, and made a brilliant sales pitch for the anti-racism concert she’s involved in next week; the fact that I hung out with both Ben and her this week makes me laugh. Jess was THE BEST study buddy over the past few days, the kind that says nice, supportive things and eats taco chips in bed with you, but also tell you to stop looking up “pecuniary” in the thesaurus when studying is necessary. (But really, isn't pecuniary a great word? I'm endeavouring to use it more regularly.) Jess and I have a new favourite song by Of Montreal titled “Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games,” and it’s definitely one of our best romantic theme songs of all time (it’s wise to have romantic theme songs with friends; Korp and I recently selected one from our choir repertoire, and we make kissing/eyelash-batting signals whenever we sing it at practice). Plus, dinner with some of my favourite sadistic people tonight was full of laughter, blushing, and general contentment. Crystal even confirmed that she’s going to watch Star Wars, something that she’s been avoiding for nearly a year.



Basically, people make life lovely even when school attempts to make it torturously painful. I had a midterm yesterday and today, and am currently writing an essay on the evolutionary theories related rape, which is rather depressing to research as you might imagine. Fortunately, writing and researching papers is far more stimulating than reading textbooks for hours on end, and I no longer have to write about A Knight’s Tale, which turned out to be a very unwise essay topic indeed. Besides textbooks and articles about the trauma of domestic abuse, I’ve been reading Sex God and Tuesdays with Morrie this week; these are both highly recommendable books, and thus, I am recommending them to you. As an aside, I will inform you that I struggled to find a copy of Sex God in Edmonton at first, and resultingly had to phone various book stores asking “Do you have a copy of Sex God in?” I found this to be slightly mortifying. Even worse was when I went to Chapters to get the copy that I’d finally got on hold, and the clerk very clearly thought that it was some Kama Sutra-esque book, and mouthed the title (refusing to say it aloud) when confirming that this was, indeed, the book that I wanted to read. He showed me the cover, and proceeded to ring it through without making eye contact or speaking again. In fact, Sex God is a Christian book about humanity, intimacy, desires, and so on; the clerk was evidently not aware of this. I really should be off to bed before the St. Patty’s bonanza that awaits me at work tomorrow morning, so I shall bid you all goodnight! I feel I should apologize for the excessive futility of this entry. This has been my break from reading articles, and I’m clearly not in a writing groove right now (hopefully this serves as a warm up for paper-writing tomorrow). Happy St. Patty’s Day my dear Irish and not-so-Irish friends!


P.S. Virb.com is going to replace Facebook and MySpace in 5 years. For now, I have made friends with Bloc Party while the rest of you remain satisfied with Facebook. 5 years, though, and you'll all be my Virb-buddies. Mark my words.
P.P.S. Puddles and sunshine and pleasant breezes make spring one of my favourite seasons. When wearing rainboots, the vast amount of mud is exceedingly enjoyable. My puffer jacket is officially stored away until next winter. I hope you're making the most of this pleasant time of year!
P.P.P.S. Conrad Black is difficult to love. His last name describes his heart quite suitably, I think. I am glad that Jean Chrétien was mean to him.