wonder ten

janet's hands fluttered, danced, and beat the air as her recorded voice recited. she forced the simple words of her poem into the world of three dimensions. "i am a sister; i am a dancer; i am an office worker; i am a wonderful person."

that evening, after dinner, sharon took a photo of me blowing kisses at my own reflection. janet's words were ringing in my ears: i am a wonderful person.

---

i reach out, offering a kindness, then instantly pull my hand back. something within has sprung up to identify my motive: atoning for sin, winning favour, attaining status or glory, hearing praise, inspiring guilt, or some other manipulation... rather than love for the sake of loving, i am doing good for my own sake.

restlessness takes over and i search my surroundings for a distraction. i don't want to think about how very selfish i am. the stench of hypocrisy nauseates me, and my eyes fill with hot tears. how can i be so full of crap?

---

gazing in mirrors leaves me in awe. my own reflection takes my breath away... not because vanity is my vice of choice, but because what i see is astounding. truly, i am the most beautiful of all God's creatures. and also the ugliest.

my thought life, my prayer, my work ethic, my patience, my compassion, my words, my fear, my touch, my openness, my courage, my purity, my thoughtfulness, my gentleness, my capacity to hope... as they are daily tested, they testify for and against me. and there is nothing like consensus.

---

n.t. wright says the world is awesomely ugly and achingly beautiful, and that we need imagination in order to cope with what feels like a false dichotomy.

i say my head and heart hurt from the effort of trying to sort myself out.

but this i know: within myself i find great cause for hope, great need for confession, and great grounds for forgiving those who fail me. and without? a God who is only beautiful and who wants to come inside.

---

beautiful, you're beautiful
beautiful as the sun
wonderful, you're wonderful
as wonderful as they come
~smashing pumpkins, "beautiful"

wonder nine

michelle reminded me of last reading break when we went to starbucks and knitted (knot?)... finally, when hunger got the best of us, we headed out. there was snow on her car and we cleaned it off together. at chianti's, we kept knitting. i think we spent eight hours together that day. she asked me if i reflected on days like that with sadness, given the surrounding circumstances.

remember when everything was hard and you were there? the context doesn't taint the memories, it makes them more precious. when i think about all the craziness, all the hurt, all the struggle... and i remember that you were there, it makes everything go hazy and beautiful.

kristin, amanda, michelle... showing integrity and clinging to one another when giving up might have been easier.

ross and kevin... struggling to hope together, learning to be honest with each other.

jen and biscuit... coming home to something safe and nurturing, knowing i have an advocate and a cuddlebuddy (respectively).

i'm struck by the goodness in my life. the strength and compassion you showed. you babysat me, you trusted me, you shared your life with me. i value that so very much.

wendy's, blizzards, and hot beverages make me miss you in a way i can best describe in romanian: ustura. or, to put it the way lars did, "like a burn. like when you go outside and your feet freeze and you come back in and then they thaw out? it's like that. it's almost exactly like that."

it's the kind of pain i embrace, though, because it reminds me how very, very rich i was last year. it's not even bittersweet anymore... just sweet.

thank you.

wonder eight

me: did ya miss me?
mike: well, i have some good news: i did. you're the best friend i ever had.

mike can't remember my name. he likes action movies and comedies (especially slapstick) more than watching "house" or anything else with a lot of dialogue. he pretends he doesn't like having his cheeks pinched. he's so very territorial about his (hundreds of) movies. i owe him and kevin dinner because of an unbelievable basket he made when we tore up the court on monday night. and sometimes he says amazingly wise things.

me: you gotta be sensitive, right?
mike: yeah, you gotta see what's there.

best foundation for true, insightful, committed friendship ever. that's not to say that mike always lives this - he can be quite oblivious to how people feel, though he is always well-intentioned. still, something rang true. somehow he unpacked the connotation sensitivity evokes - being politically correct, walking on eggshells, approaching things gingerly, and so on - and got at the root: sensing, seeing what's there.

during our prayer time, we share a reading and core members offer their thoughts. almost every night, mike says, "i think it's good to help people... and to be happy with Jesus."

how can every devotional reading yield the same response? because it's the right response. maybe mike looks past all the other stuff that fills our so-called spiritual lives, and sees only the heart of what it means to really live well: to help others, and to be happy with Jesus.

maybe wisdom doesn't have to come as a reward for years of solitude and contemplation and soul-searching. maybe it's a lot more simple than that: just love God and love your neighbour as yourself. we could spend the rest of our lives seeking the definitions for all those terms - God, love, neighbour, self. we could pretend that it's possible to objectively analyze this ridiculous, mysterious, beautiful, terrifying thing we call life... or we can begin to live it, even as we squint to see what's there.

wonder seven

[phos kai hudor]
it’s not entirely surprising that i never noticed it before: this is the first time my bathroom has a window at just the right angle, and the first time i’ve consistently taken afternoon showers. the sunshine pours in and i pull the curtain back to give it room. the shower on, beams of water begin to glow gold and silver. I hold my hand under the stream, and it shines, too. my laugh echoes against the tiles as i turn my hand over and wiggle my fingers. so this is what it feels like to be literally bathed in light!

water is the gentlest and most powerful force i know. it cuts and erodes. it caresses and cleanses. drenches, drips, quenches, soaks, dillutes, trickles, floods, destroys, builds, freezes, boils, drizzles, crashes, foams, buoys, pushes and pulls. it brings nourishment, healing, and terror. it’s a home, a highway, a grave.

and light... it’s just as capricious. how can that which brings sight also bring blindness? the eyes are unequipped to take in all that light offers. overwhelmed, even when enlightened. maybe especially then.
and the way the two interplay: the way water bends light and seems to break my straw. crimson sunrises, purple sunsets, clouds lit up with fire, rainbows inspiring adventure, reflections on the sandy floor of a lake. feeding a tree together.

[pater]
he's no longer a meter taller than me, but still a giant. all the rides on his shoulders, the discussions about politics and relativity, the walks, the games of twenty questions while corini and mom were skating, the jokes, the safety that comes when dad is there... they do not fade even now.

[artos]
crackling accompanies the release of steam. the smell of yeast and comfort escapes as the crust crumbles. thick slices fall slowly and heavily as the knife moves back and forth, revealing a core of warmth and wholeness. each crumb satisfies without satisfying. breaking, sharing these slabs of flour, milk, and egg around the table feels like intimacy, and the very word fills my mouth and heart with ache: bread.

[eros]
a simple love scene with no ridiculous dialogue or confused motives. a hand lightly resting on my hip. intertwined fingers. shared breath. attachment that overrides self-interest, filling the heart with a hunger only for presence, belonging, union.

[theos]
oh, God, i have found Your only flaw: You long to speak to us, to make Yourself known... but the metaphors which seek to reveal Your majesty and love and goodness – Your very self – are far too beautiful. they, too, woo us. so smitten with water and light and fathers and bread and lovers, we fail to gaze beyond the shadows and see You.

eleven minutes with antonio

my ipod can usually figure out what i need to hear. i hit shuffle and it takes over. this morning we had to work together... neither of us knew what fit. finally, the second movement of vivaldi's spring (largo) accompanied the lyrics playing out around and inside me as i sat in queen's park. 11:33 of beauty.

the green paint of the picnic table peels away to let me read the carved initials. there's a spray-painted stenciled prayer: "love and wisdom to you." i echo the request and take my seat. joggers and busses and traffic and a man sitting on a bench 50 meters away, rocking. the dark tree trunks speak of a depth and richness i long for. so real, so concrete. their limbs spread overhead, a symphony of green. peaking through, a sky that glows with blue and white. so good. so very, very good.

vivaldi didn't include wind rushing through drying leaves in his orchestration, to say nothing of the rumble of the subway underfoot. i'm not sure he'd object, though. do the vibrations of the subway affect the trees here, i wonder? every three minutes or so, the roots dance, for better or for worse. are they stronger for it? or do they long for stability and stillness?

strange how a piece about spring fits so well with fall... especially on a university campus. fresh starts: new friends, new lessons, potential that just makes you ache. i think about how i love the smell of autumn, but realize it's the smell of decay. "but," i reflect, "it's death that paves the way for new life." maybe Christian spirituality is about choosing that death over the other kind - the kind that sticks.

do i use the word "beauty" too often? should i guard it so it becomes more sacred, more meaningful? thing is, i don't want to fail to recognize that which *is* truly beautiful... what if God is in the ordinary and life is beautiful and i love being soaked by rain and having the wind play with my skirt and imagining that i am not alone, after all? what if "sacred" doesn't mean "rare"?

i think about what i'm thinking about. how i'd write it. are we really who we are when we write? why am i not like this when i order my london fog or shop for shoes or run for the bus?

sigh.

i let my hair fall on my shoulders and watch and listen and rumble with the subway. i wrestle with impatience. i wonder if there will be a time in my life when this is a priority: when sitting and being (except without thinking so much about it) will come naturally and frequently. when i'll have someone to sit beside. but no talking. just being.

i've only ever shared a moment like that with one person. under a full, smokey moon, we stood, humbled and silent. maybe sharing wonder is the height of intimacy. not talking about it later, like i do here, but living it, together.

wonder six

i couldn't figure out what we were reading. the more i tried to grasp at details, the more they slipped away. all i remember clearly is that i raised my hand and reflected: "wisdom seems to be about unity, more than anything else. that's counterintuitive, because my view of a sage isn't that far from my view of a hermit. more than that, i feel like wisdom alienates you from society: you end up weeping in a dark corner by yourself. but this text suggests that wisdom draws us into community and communion with others."

wisdom is an enigma to me. maybe that's why i dream about it. i took a course on psalms & wisdom once, and we talked about hokmah and its definition... but that seems to fall short now. in "blue like jazz" don miller describes a moment when it felt like something true and beautiful had hit the table with a thud. that's what wisdom feels like to me. and, even though i have no clue where this idea came from, i'm beginning to see that my thirst for wisdom should lead me into community, into conversation with the world around me. here's some of what i'm hearing:

i went down to frwy to have a hummus sandwich, drink tea, and work on my senior paper. a few hours later, a vocal coach and four of her students had a concert on the little platform of the coffee house. one of the vocalists was retired; she'd dreamed of being a singer for years and years, and was finally in a position to follow her dream. she was a charming lady - forgetting the lyrics here and there - and she sang a song that has always brought tears to my eyes.

"what good is sitting alone in your room? come hear the music play..."

i watched this woman who had deferred her dream for so long... she was glowing. and it was like one day she had finally found the courage to be who she had always wanted to be.

when brian melo was reflecting on being in the final two in this year's canadian idol competition, he said, "this is something i've been dreaming about since i was a kid. the fact that it's happening makes me think that my heart wasn't lying to me."

my heart wasn't lying to me.

some things just feel right. and it's like your whole self is on board: you aren't constantly plagued by doubts, there are no dead butterflies in your tummy. it's born of a real desire for goodness and beauty and celebration and self-sacrifice. you know your conscience is clear, your motives are pure. it's not about selfish ambition or shallow achievement. the difficulties that come your way are real, and painful, but they pale in comparison with the prize. it feels like if you don't pursue this vocation, this skill, this virtue, this relationship, this work of art, this mountain, this truth, with all you have, you'll just dissolve into nothingness. it feels like this is what you're meant for.

may we all discover that, in those times, our hearts aren't lying to us.

there are endless stories about finding your voice... and with it the courage to let your voice ring out in joy, in mourning, in doubt, in trust, in truth. let's search together.

it's never too late to become what you might have been.
~ tag-line for "away from her"

o me! o life!... of the questions of these recurring;
of the endless trains of the faithless - of cities fill'd with the foolish;
of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than i, and who more faithless?)
of eyes that vainly crave the light - of the objects mean - of the struggle ever renew'd;
of the poor results of all - of the plodding and sordid crowds i see around me;
of the empty and useless years of the rest - with the rest me intertwined;
the question, o me! so sad, recurring - what good amid these, o me, o life?

answer.
that you are here - that life exists, and identity;
that the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
~ walt whitman

what good is sittin' alone in your room?
oh, come hear the music play,
life is a cabaret, old chum,
come to the cabaret!
put down that knittin',
the book,
and the broom,
it's time for a holiday!
life is a cabaret, old chum,
so come to the cabaret!
~ "cabaret"

wonder four

(as far as i know) no one has seen me naked in the last fifteen years. no lovers, no surgeries, no spicy beaches. still, nakedness has been on my mind in the last while.

i share life with men and women who have developmental disabilities. while some of them are quite independent, others need to be verbally instructed as they bathe or use the bathroom. still others are utterly dependent on the support of their assistants. as i began taking on a few of these routines, i was struck by how uneventful nudity seemed to be. there might be shyness, but there wasn't shame. it was ordinary.

reflecting on these experiences, my mind was flooded with scraps of ideas: kids have to be taught about modesty and privacy. people i care about resent their sexuality. miranda stone pin-points the beginning of social struggles in her life to the advent of puberty ("7 deadly sins"). i hate porn. donald miller dedicated a chapter of "searching for God knows what" to adam and eve ("naked"). some guy confessed to cosmo that leaving the lights on took everything to a deeper level. the Church has historically been dualistic. Christ died naked.

nudity is a very big deal for me. in fact, about six months ago i considered it a major personal break-through when i managed to change in the locker room rather than hiding in a bathroom stall. it's not that i'm a prude, i don't think. it's that i can't divorce nudity from... well, nakedness. i mean, from intimacy.

miller hints that life with God is a return to nakedness, but i doubt he'd support Christian nudist colonies just yet. i think the reason nakedness was the fashion in eden was that adam and eve were first of all innocent, but also intimate - with one another and with God. that's hardly the default anymore.

so, there's an innocence requisite to default nakedness. young children and core members aren't always ignorant of the vulnerability implicit in nakedness, but they are far less likely to associate their bodies with sin. those of us who do make that connection can't return to the philosophical innocence of eden without the moral innocence that accompanied it... and that will only come in its fullness when all is finally and eternally renewed and restored.

but we can have real intimacy. we can choose to believe the best about one another, fully aware of the risks we face. i think that's part of what God offers us in the interim: intimacy with Himself, first of all. and the potential of intimacy with one another.

donald miller makes much of the distinction between truth and meaning, which got me thinking that, absent of context, neither nudity nor figurative nakedness expresses anything. it is truth (when it isn't airbrushed), but it has no meaning. in relationship, though, it is hard to exaggerate its significance.

"in a world where innocence and intimacy are mocked and abused, i invite you to know me, as i really am. i trust that i am safe with you. more than that, i believe that our mutual nakedness is a foundation for fruitfulness and goodness and beauty in this relationship and in our lives."

one of my hopes is that my time at l'arche will help me to narrow in on what it means to be human. away from many of the trappings of "real life," some beautiful - and meaningful! - truths are coming the surface. not least among them is this: to be human is to be naked... in every sense of the word.

she parks her car outside my house and
takes her clothes off
says she's close to understanding Jesus
~ counting crows, "round here"

wonder three

when n.t. wright told me that the line between good and evil runs through the middle of all of us, i agreed, in theory. but, in practice, i see the world in binary: you're either good or bad. sometimes good people mess up; sometimes bad people get it right. still, you're basically either one or the other.

but that's not quite true, i'm discovering.

i'm where i am today because someone once compared me to henri nouwen. not in terms of insight or contribution to the growth of others or spiritual depth, but in terms of my needs. and even though i've been hurt by this person on multiple occasions, and won't voluntarily speak to him/her probably ever, something told me that this analysis wasn't off the mark. and that stuck in my head.

so, my wonderment is: how can it be that i have received wounds from those who also spoke life and truth to me? not the good wounds that lead to repentance and reflection: bad wounds, which taste like anger and death. how come fresh and salt water do both flow from the same spring? james says it shouldn't be so!

the thing is... it is so! that's james' indictment: we go around, praising and cursing with the same mouth. (james 3:10-12)

oh, to be able to discern light from shadow, truth from fiction, life from death... within and without. to speak and hear only goodness, and to let the rest fall to the ground.

wonder two

my first semester at university felt like complete immersion in a foreign country; it had its own language and culture, and it was so very easy to feel like an isolated misfit. thinking of that worn-out adage about being alone in a crowd only added insult to injury: i deeply resented being a cliché. still, there was no denying that i could be surrounded by friendliness and conversation all day long, and ultimately walk away feeling as though i hadn’t connected soul-to-soul with anyone. experiences like that made me doubt if i ever would.

now i have.

whenever i reflect on those dark phases in my life, there is inevitably only a dull ray of light to illuminate my loneliness. i am beginning to accept that i shall always wonder what loneliness is. but, as long as i'm gentle, i can strive to sketch out the silhouette of this mystery.

i missed hearing my own name, to start. i missed being touched. i missed being missed. i missed being known as an individual. i missed being an i.

these vague shapes, the product of squinting and struggling, have given me some measure of comfort. listen, we're not tailor-made for each other. you're not going to instinctively know how i like my tea and what song makes me cry and who i am becoming. i'm not going to know what's not ok to ask and who inspires you and what your favourite word is. it just doesn't come naturally, you know?

the beauty of friendship is that we choose to learn each other. we desire to know each other, and allow ourselves to be known. i invest in you (singular) and you (singular) invest in me. that is the only cure to loneliness i know.

if you have a minute why don't we go
talk about it somewhere only we know?
~ keane, "somewhere only we know"

first wonder

i've been trying to narrow down the seven wonders of my world, but i have thirty-four so far, and i am not one to censor (or censure) wonderings. instead of reeming them off, i'm going to share one a week, in detail.

wonder one: when i was just shy of fifteen, i received a swift kick to the lower leg during an intense soccer game. while i was no athlete, i decided i was all gritty and hardcore and chose to play out the rest of the game. not only did i have the wickedest bruise in amateur sports – about the size of my fist, and deep purple and green – but because ice wasn’t administered immediately, it didn’t go away for a long time. more than ten years later, i still have a bundle of scar tissue just above my right ankle. it is almost numb except for a slight tingle when i touch it. every time i take notice of it, i’m reminded that i once took a soccer game very seriously. i’m also convicted about my habit of ignoring what my body needs.

i have other scars: more than a dozen burns, scratches, stitches, and scrapes, the circumstances of which i can’t always remember. knowing that scars are quite common has done nothing to change how i feel about them: they absolutely fascinate me. when i see other people’s scars, i'm always tempted to ask how they were acquired. (i try to fight that impulse because it’s led to a few awkward moments – sometimes the stories have been forgotten, and sometimes we just wish we could forget them.)

scars are the marks life leaves on us. our very skin becomes a living scrapbook, and we can read our stories right off our own bodies. there are inner scars, too… they have colour and texture, but are invisible to the naked eye. that underlying ache is always there, waiting to be rediscovered at the oddest of times. there are some people who seem to instinctively know where the tenderness and vulnerability is; they just find those spots and jump up and down on them. just like with tangible scars, we can’t always remember how we got the hurt to begin with. all we know is, it’s hurting again, only different. like the echo of a hurt.

i don’t understand healing – why it is that God pronounces it over my life; why it is that the process seems to be stalled at “pathetically incomplete;” what its status says about God; whether there’s hope of getting anywhere at all; why i only ever notice my own healing in hindsight and from a distance. but i am starting to see that scars have a purpose in my life: they remind me that i am still fragile and urge me to be gentle with myself. attentive, even.

they are a mirror, reflecting back to me the pain that i refused to deal with at the time.

close your eyes and i'll kiss you ‘cause
with the birds i’ll share
with the birds i’ll share
this lonely view
~red hot chili peppers, "scar tissue"

wonderments

on july 7th, they'll unveil the results of a global vote on the new seven wonders of the world.

thing is, the choices are limited to man-made structures completed before the year 2000. and i don't *really* wonder about buildings so much. so, i'm working on a real list: the seven wonders of my world. results to be unveiled on... say... july 7th.

what leaves you in awe?

p.s. here are gandhi's seven blunders of the world:
- wealth without work
- pleasure without conscience
- knowledge without character
- commerce without morality
- science without humanity
- worship without sacrifice
- politics without principle

talking about language

responding to linda hirshman

ahem-hem.
this from amazon.com's write-up of linda hirshman's "get to work: a manifesto for women of the world."

A former attorney and professor of philosophy, Hirshman labeled child care as a low-status job and urged all women to rejoin the work force in her now infamous American Prospect article "Homeward Bound."

Now she's back, using statistical research and convincing anecdotal evidence to challenge the politically correct assertion-as well as the moral, value and economic judgements inherent therein-that children, and ultimately society, benefit when mom stays at home.

In her attempts to "restart the revolution," Hirshman spotlights the emptiness of "'choice feminism,' the shadowy remnant of the original women's movement," that puts the freedom to choose before progress or equality.

"Stay-at-home moms do not like to hear that the sacrifice of their education, talents and prospects to their spouses' aspirations and their children's needs was a mistake," writes Hirshman, "so they contend the stay-at-home decision cannot be judged." But by making that "stay-at-home decision," Hirshman contends, women are creating, collectively, their own glass ceiling, in the end harming society as a whole by keeping educated, affluent women hidden at home.

don't tell the kids, but we're wasting our time on them. thoughts?

whine no more, ladies (and gents)

you know what my bible says? "the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. AGAINST SUCH THINGS THERE IS NO LAW." (gal 5:22-23)

i wish Christians would stop whining about our civil liberties while people starve, freeze, overdose, and cry themselves into lonely deaths. maybe if we focused on others for a change we would realize that what's most important - and what God wants - cannot be legislated against.

please be advised: withdrawal symptoms imminent

my parents' computer doesn't like blogger for some reason, so my posts may be few and far between over the summer, unless i regularly commandeer my sissy's laptop or actually make it to the uoft campus with some frequency.

we suffer together: i can't bring myself to write any meaningful notes on facebook and, while i'm beginning to journal on paper again, that's just not the same. i miss this place. but let us shed no tears, friends. sometimes silence is best.

or, in other words, sometimes resignation to the realities of which you disapprove is wiser that kicking against the undaunted and impenetrable totalitarianism that is computer goofiness.

i've recently been learning...

1. it will never be the same again
2. no matter which beach boys' song i start out singing, i end up with "(i wish they all could be) california girls"
3. "if i stand at all, it is certainly not alone"
4. being brave feels good (after the peeing-your-pants thing is done)
5. i am deeply loved and kinda needed
6. it's not about me
7. God really wants to be known... He is the "one who has waited long for you to speak" (the horse and his boy)
8. just because everyone seems to see you a certain way doesn't mean it's true
9. the way i deal with life is fundamentally flawed
10. my family is often very, very difficult... but somehow it can be beautiful
11. sometimes it is about me
12. every story is everyone's story, somehow
13. for the record, we still can't get through mother's day without my mom crying
14. if everyone seems to see you in a certain way, you should consider that it might be true
15. no one is indispensable
16. x hours of anything-other-than-sleep = 0 hours of sleep, no matter how restful you think the other thing might be
17. most friendships don't end... they just change
18. my mom may be difficult, but i don't always have to be selfish and sensitive
19. i didn't miss provincial sales tax
20. i already miss being driven home and sitting in the parking lot for hours
21. there is no formula. ever. ok, i'll give you the quadratic formula... but it prolly won't help so much.
22. it's never too late to be loving
23. "being miserable doesn't make you better than anyone else... it just makes you miserable" (house)
24. no one is replaceable (sorry, beyonce)
25. if God isn't ok with swearing, i am in so much trouble... because:
26. sometimes the only words i have are ones i only really trust Him to tolerate and understand
27. trajectory is so, so important. (i guess i need to take the derivative to find the slope of the tangent to the curve at this particular moment... oh, wait: no formuale.)
28. "every tear i've cried, You hold in Your hand" (casting crowns)
29. what i want most is home
30. listen
31. it will never be the same again

updater-oo

in: toronto
with: a sore back
with: 100% of my belongings
without: my degree
with: hope for getting the above soon
with: family!

also coming soon: a comprehensive - but not exhaustive - list of thanks and recent lessons!

watch this space!

winter quotables 2007

i never realized how good looking you were until i met your family!
~michelle

you should invent a teleporting machine... well, you did ask people to give you advice for what to do next!
~kevin

mara: he had good looks... lots of good looks...
deniss: aaaall over his face!

i don't eat ice cream because it's good for me.
~darcy

mara: he cried yesterday.
ross: that's 'cause he's a man.
mara in her head: i love that we both know that's not at all sarcastic.

nooo waaaaaaaaaaay!
~exclaimed by jen repeatedly, as she discovers the wonders of facebook

i don't know very many wise people who quit.
~brett

the bible is trying to move people from a deeply unjust context to a profound equality.
~mara

we can't even imagine the hope we have.
~steve

i've experienced world peace... it's worth it! we should bring it to this planet!
~michelle

mara: we can pretend to be married.
ross: we totally can. i just have to take mara for granted more.

no, steve isn't a good guy because he's my friend.
~ross

life is short; why live in the snow?
~dr. knudtson

ah, gregory of nyssa... great guy... great poet... a bit of a whiner, though.
~dr. mealey

that's so WRONG-AH!
~jen, making fun of my hard g's

little children will suffer if you don't take care of yourself.
~jen

he is as spiritual as a chair.
~deniss

there is beauty in the world even when my bus is late.
~mara

mara, you should have married my wife.
~kevin

that saint francis, he had his ducks in a row... literally.
~jen

it's not me; it's us.
~kristin

what kind of girl are you?! you have no power of manipulation!
~steve

oh, you're soft... and sparkly! you are everything i like.
~faith

those who don't have time to study call themselves "biblical Christians."
~prof. hyatt

i will fight brian mclaren in a steel cage.
~ross

why is satan so good in bed? i'd think he'd be really inconsiderate.
~steve

i'm not sad, i'm complicated. chicks dig it.
~house

just the way you look tonight...

warning: incomplete group shots ahead!!!
um, where's amanda?

there she is! along with the rest of the theology girls! we look soooo good!!!

sadly, ross was permanently missing. and you know what that means! photoshop-ing fun is just around the corner!

iq for sale

i'd rather be good than smart.

there's nothing beautiful about smart.

my friend implores me, for one time only...

kevin suggested i rank my friends, given my recent enthusiasm for ross. see, ross is wonderful. but the great thing about not ranking friends is that you can think they're each wonderful in their own quirky, lovely ways without the stress of trying to quantify that. you also don't have to deal with the reality that some of the people who matter most to you don't care that much about you.

in other news, i'm so not feeling well.

still further, if you don't want to talk about it, then it isn't love.

can i put this on my resume?

suddenly puzzled

the glory to which man is called is that he should grow more godlike by growing ever more human. ~dumitru staniloae

a lot of things don't make sense to me right now, and i'm so so so tired. the few things that i can see through my squinty, misty eyes are truly beautiful... but i just want certainty right now. a little less mystery, without shirking the beauty.

i want immediate ontological realities. i want hope and i want reason to hope.

ockham's razor

just choose life and light, ok? and throw in laughter, too.

learning to call it "good"

two years ago, i watched lord of the flies on this weekend and remembered how much we need God. maybe this year it'll be the believer.

"when you're ready, you may come forward for communion." hmm... on the one hand, how can i ever be ready? on the other hand, how can i delay?

on my nose and eyelashes

today we answer some viewer mail!

you asked: what one song would you choose to listen to for the rest of your life if you were stuck on an island alone?
answered: run to the water by live

you asked: what are you doing after you graduate?
answered: i don't know, actually. it'll probably involve truth and beauty, somehow.

you asked: how did your practicum affect you?
answered: dude, you have no idea. see post below if you really care.

you asked: hey, want to have lunch together?
answered: sorry - not allowed to have fun until after grad, unless it's on a sunday.

you asked: want to transcribe your sermon?
answered: really, really not. but i will.

you asked: any last words?
answered: BEAUTY ABOUNDS!!!

burnt to the core, but not broken...

learnin'

as i reflect on an adventure which began more than a year ago - at wendy's, of all places - i am struck by how much i still have to learn. when kevin and i first envisioned creating and teaching this course, it felt like a make-work project i could be excited about. over the months that followed, as the content, format, and goal of the class all changed drastically, we began to engage spiritual and theological concerns i had never really seen articulated: the rift between adam and eve, the two natures of Christ in serious conflict with one another, and the mystical ambivalence toward the material world. for me, these texts were "strangely familiar and startlingly different" - to borrow a chapter title from kevin’s forthcoming book - in that they magnified questions i had never allowed myself to dwell on.

from my perspective, the blame for the present popularity of liberal Christianity and neo-gnosticism rested squarely on the shoulders of the west's widespread rejection of objective, demanding truth. the problem, in other words, was that we sought "wisdom without submission." it was eve's sin all over again. this reality, combined with the rampant anti-intellectual tenor of evangelicalism, was posing a serious threat to the gospel message. my own view, i have discovered, was not so much wrong as it was dangerously incomplete. in the pages of thomas and philip and judas, i discovered real human questions, and not mere evasion of authority. in the infancy gospels, i saw sincere curiosity, and not simple mythologizing. finally, among legends and candy floss, i encountered in questions of bartholomew a kind of worship that i could not denounce. indeed, i had to join in.

i suppose these pages ought to be filled with rich descriptions of how i came to master the intricacies of powerpoint, or how much i now know about sifting sources and making the best use of the materials within my reach, or how much better prepared i will be to take the helm in a classroom, having had this experience. all of that could be sincerely and thoroughly depicted, but the resulting document would be almost irrelevant.

i can say with confidence that my future in academia is brighter for having undertaken the teaching of this class, but very little of that assurance comes from "practical" skills attained. the daunting volume of pages yet to be read, the countless hours of wondering and wandering, the panicked prayers, the discovery of profound truth in the mouths of "heretics," the constant struggle of working with someone who has a different stride and theological perspective... all of it has challenged me to keep one attitude, always, at the core of my being: humility. to expect that all people - everywhere, and for all time - genuinely seek something real, and to recognize those same thirsts in me. to plumb the depths of God's truth, daring to go into those shadowy places where scripture and the church seem entirely silent, believing that there is light yet to be found. teaching, i have discovered, is just another word for learning out loud. and that is an adventure i now embrace. humbly.

glory be to Thee, o Lord Jesus Christ,
that givest unto all Thy grace which all we have perceived. alleluia.
glory be to thee, o Lord, the life of sinners.
glory be to Thee, o Lord, death is put to shame.
glory be to Thee, o Lord, the treasure of righteousness.
for unto God do we sing.
~questions of bartholomew, v. 69

that bench

when i talk to steve, it becomes harder to be selfish. maybe that means our friendship makes me a better person. i've learned much lately, but the hardest things to write about are either unmistakably beautiful or profoundly painful. the conversation in question falls into the former category for me. and i just want to be faithful to that...

"to rid myself of all but love; to give and die..."
~jars of clay

"she is beautiful because she is advancing."
~origen

tea and sympathy... and something real

in real life, and not just on the interwebs, people challenge me to think about what i believe. today i shared hot beverages with one such person. we spoke about the bible and salvation and knowing God - and i know that sounds like the typical fare. but it wasn't, you know?

it was something beautiful.

i think it may soon be time to start searching for a microphone. i suspect that i may soon have something to say.

explicit

i really like the wording here:

"McMaster Divinity College supports women in training for any and all forms of Christian ministry as well as the subsequent ordination of women. It is expected that no member of the MDC community (students, staff, faculty) will detract from MDC’s support of women in ministry. A student’s acceptance of admission as a student at MDC is taken as a student’s agreement not to detract from MDC’s support of women in ministry."

deciphering clues

my brilliant friend sarah recently described a common falacy in so-called countercultural Christianity:

1. Jesus said that if a person follows Him, the person will be persecuted.
2. Therefore, if I am being persecuted, I am following Jesus.

In my experience, the word "persecuted" in the second premise means that the person is being contradicted, mocked, or called a bigot.

... While some instances of persecution are real, sometimes, if you're being contradicted, it's because you're wrong, if you're being mocked, it's because you're being foolish, and if you're being called a bigot, it's because you are one.

or, to put it in my far less tidy words, just because you're pissing people off doesn't mean God is being glorified. just fyi.

p.s. yeah, i've been spending too much time on Xn online forums. i still like the agnostic/atheist one better.

beware the ides of march

operation: losing it proudly presents: bitter rejection part 14, featuring kung fu mcmaster

operation: get a grip proudly presents: mara's butt: now smaller than ever before*
*in recent memory

gotta take the bad with the good :-)

tee hee

it's not a burden

i don't know what you need to do to get ready for this, but brace yourself and then watch bono accept his award from the naacp. the last two minutes are particularly powerful.

then, maybe, do something.

ugh

i've had some embarrassing things happen while i'm "exercising":
- i've slipped and fallen during a cartwheel (wet grass and sandals don't mix!)
- i've had the arm of the elliptical machine hit me while i'm trying to drink water (splash!)
- i've tripped and gotten a serious floor burn in front of my whole gym class

but THE most embarrassing thing ever was this morning:
the tv closest to me was set to cbc, and they were talking with david halton who is touring around speaking on "the rise of the religious right in u.s. politics." incidentally, he is speaking at trinity college tonight and tomorrow night. he shared that about 80% of white evangelicals voted for george w. bush (why didn't black evangelicals? is it because they're generally poorer and care more about social programs? shouldn't white people care about that, too?!?!?)
some swing issues:
pro: teaching creationism in schools
con: teaching about contraception in schools, and foreign aid

yaaaay. toss in gay marriage and abortion and we're really cookin'. so, today, i'm frustrated with those who claim to speak for me. and (though i'm not sure i can blame them) i'm also frustrated with the pundits who keep reminding me.

maybe it's time to speak for myself. and not just on a stupid blog.

travailing in prayer

this moved me:

Sometimes when I'm on the last repetition of the last set, a muscle begins to involuntarily tremble. "That's great," she says. "You're working to the point of failure."

In weight training, failure is a good thing. Failure means you've worked so hard that your body is saying, "Enough already! I give!" It means you haven't lost control - you're not in danger of injuring yourself - but if you don't stop now, you might be overdoing it.

I like thinking of failure that way. I wonder how our lives might be different if we thought about impending collapses as signals that we're working to the point of failure - the place of needing rest and respite. What if we were to simply stop, pat ourselves on the back for doing our best, and take a break, instead of judging ourselves or pushing to the point of injury?

the whole article is great.

nouwen speaks

the inner voice of love: a journey through anguish to freedom is a collection of spiritual imperatives that came to henri nouwen during a time of profound darkness. a taste:

"never allow yourself to become public property, where anyone can walk in and out at will."

fair is fair

i don't eat most chocolate because about 90% of cocoa isn't fair trade, and that's brutal. so, when i was reading people's lists of their food weaknesses, i realized i can't list chocolate anymore. i discovered a principle - in this case, social justice - that made it impossible for me to indulge the way i used to.

why am i not bound by some principle involving my health? why can't i be fair to myself?

just one

there was this one time that william booth wanted to send a telegram to all his salvation army folk all over the world. but, you know, it's the army, so there wasn't a lot of money kicking around. he decided to send a one word message.

what would you send?

you talkin' to me?

m: everything i'm reading rings so true...
m: mmmmmaybe you're orthodox-with-a-capital-o?
m: yeah, ok. but do i have to attend an orthodox church as a result?
m: why wouldn't you?
m: yo, i don't know... there's something holdin' me back...
m: what might that be?
m: being alone? i don't know anyone else in the orthodox church in hamilton.
m: dude, do you know *anyone* in hamilton?
m: fair point.
m: thanks.
m: you so smaht!
m: me think so, too!

"salvation is not looked at within orthodoxy as either an in or out position, but a journey into God..." ~timothy copple

run, don't walk

steve and i saw this last night.
then i went home and read the book again.
and i don't want to get over it.
some times there are great seasons to cry. :)

p.s. it was also clean monday yesterday, which was harder on my heart than i expected. wilderness can only ever be embraced if there's real hope of something better on the other side. so, here's hoping.

as for the terrors ahead - for he did not fool himself that they were all behind him - well, you just have to stand up to your fear and not let it squeeze you white. right, leslie? right.

don't tell anyone

there will always be sad secrets to tell and to hear. maybe the reason i keep checking every week is that sometimes there are secrets that feel true, even though i don't understand them at all.

it's forgiveness sunday, the beginning of great lent. traditionally, i should ask those close to me to "forgive me, a sinner." they should respond, "God forgives." i don't know how to ask forgiveness from people who don't seem to think it's important, but it still seems crucial to ask, instead of just saying i'm sorry.

to us, as children of adam and eve, God also gives opportunities to ask for forgiveness, as adam and eve should have done. He gives us the sacrament of confession. confession does not exist because God wants to know what we have done or left undone. He already knows that . . .

God does not need our confession, but we do.
~ from here

stumbling home

after tony the beat poet says something profound, donald miller says, it was obvious that something beautiful and true had hit the table with a thud (118).

that's how i feel about orthodoxy with a capital o. and, despite the fact that sometimes the thud is so loud that i pull away, i'm slowly heading back in that direction.

monday is the first day of great lent. after a year of having people question my motives all over the place, it's nice to know i do it, too: the lenten fast means my eating will change drastically for the next forty days or so. i know the real reason i'm doing this, but it doesn't take a genius to realize that there'll be health benefits in the process. how do i keep that from entering into the equation? it sucks that sometimes there are selfish reasons to do good things.

so, i've been thinking: maybe the first thing i'm supposed to learn is that only God can sanctify my will.

and maybe the second thing is that this - not just lent, but life itself - isn't about self-control or self-talk. it's about submission.

aflame

firefighters came today, because i am the worst stove-minder of all time. but i got a firefighter pin. and lungs fullish of smoke. and dinner out with jen to make up for the burnt smell in the house. so, horray for pasta primavera and it's forgiveness-inducing properties!

fyi, ryan gosling is so wonderful.

so gather up your jackets;

move it to the exits
i hope you have found a friend
~closing time, semisonic

we used to wander between bright yellow buses, doing actions and promising to remember and sucking back tears with all our might. skoch played "closing time" and changed the lyrics to make it ok. i think. with graduation so soon, and ross citing this song because rickles closed, it's all coming back.

i'm leaving, you know? my roomie and the puppy. these friends. this job. this church. this school. this city. the people i kinda wish i'd never met because i haven't yet figured out what i was supposed to learn there, exactly. more so, the people i never got to know. you, maybe. and no one's sure what's next, eh?

i've spent enough time hearing kevin and steve wonder about the future to realize that i'm not like them: they fear that what they deeply desire will somehow disintegrate. (kevin's gotten into durham now, btw, so he doesn't seem as worried as usual.) when the future scares me it's because i haven't put my finger on my deepest desires.

this i know, though: the moments when i ache for holiness feel the realest. so, i guess what i'm trying to say is i know who i want to take me home . . .

and the pendulum swings

"random msn story you might want to read instead of your email" is actually funny today: this one is about how to give an appropriate acceptance speech when (not if) you win an oscar. i'm including my favourite tip below. note that, in a break from my usual online style, i'm leaving the original capitalization as is. that's because, at times, it makes this so much funnier.

Don't Assume That God Voted for You
No incarnation of the Creator of All Things is registered as a member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, and nowhere on the Academy ballots is there a category for Best Vessel Through Whom God's Blessings Might Flow. (There remains some question, however, about whether Jesus Christ personally chooses the Grammy winners.) Winning an Oscar does not make you a special agent of God's will or the divine favorite over your fellow nominees -- or, for that matter, over the lepers in your category who must suffer the enduring shame of not even being nominated. (Didn't Jesus say that the un-nominated would inherit the earth?) Do not demean the concept of the Almighty by implying that either you, or the members of the Academy who voted for you, are somehow helping to implement God's Mysterious Plan so that you all can bring about the End Times. Even if it's true, don't. It's just bad form.

idolatrous me

moses must have been furious when he saw his brother leading israel in worshipping the golden calf. all the people had heard Yahweh demand that they worship no idols; neither they, nor aaron, had any excuse, yet no one accepted responsibility. moses would have been justified in accepting God's offer: he could replace abraham, start anew, and lead a people who were serious about being faithful to Yahweh. maybe it's our western individualism that compels us to strike out on our own each time we discover sin or diversity or blemishes. the source of the attitude does not matter so much to me; what does matter is moses' response to that offer: he politely declined. moreover, moses chose to passionately intercede for his people. he fought for the foolish, sinful, murmuring, chosen people.

this is not about ignoring real concerns. after all, moses rebuked the israelites harshly. yet his anger over their sin was not founded in self-righteousness. rather, it reflected a profound understanding of what sin accomplished: it divided israel from God, who was deeply offended by their false worship. moses' anger sprang out of his own love for Yahweh, and for the chosen people. when i am angry at a church or a pastor or a Christian because there has been a violation of a principle, i am loving neither God nor His people. i am clinging to a mere ideology, and that is nothing short of idolatry. ironic, isn't it?

i want to be like the moses of that moment. i want to be fully cognizant of the wrongness of what is happening, to know the sorrow of the growing rift between God and those He loves, to wholeheartedly agree that judgement would be just, and to still love them enough to intercede for them. to get down on my knees for those who refuse to do so. to stand in the gap when i speak to God and to His children. to weep when i could whine. to long for reconciliation and healing in the lives of others, and not only my own. to be clean of all unrighteousness and still stand by those who fall.

embrace yourself!

as i've been trying to take better care of myself, i've been getting anonymous support. someone said this, basically: "you know you're doing well when your personal problems don't interfere with making the right choices."

it feels good to feel good.

money, meet mouth; mouth, money . . .

a summer's disregard,
a broken bottle top
and a one man's soul
they follow each other on
the wind ya' know
'cause they got nowhere to go
~ man in the mirror, michael jackson


file this is the less talk, more rock category: i'm doing some stuff i've been saying is important to me. or, as i phrased it in conversation with kevin yesterday, i'm living the argument instead of making it. and that is very good.

watch this.

and my tube, too

ain't nothing gonna break my stride,
i'm running and i won't touch ground,
oh no, i've got to keep on moving.
~ break my stride, blue lagoon

things i've laughed at today:
colbert to o'reilly: i'm afraid of bears; i think owls are a waste of time.
[later] you know what i hate about people who criticize you? . . . they criticize what you say, but they never give you credit for how loud you say it, or how long you say it.
[from colbert on the o'reilly factor. . . see also o'reilly on the colbert report!]

patrick stewart: you're not married, you haven't got a girl friend . . . and you've never watched star trek?
rick gervais: no.
(pause)
patrick stewart: good Lord.
[from extras]

quiet night in the library

she sits there all alone
she's reading from a chapter that she sometimes calls her own.
~ every little thing, hawk nelson

this song came on this morning while i was lying in bed. i thought it was unfair. grrr.

but life is good. and there seems to be less to blog about when that's the case. but i still feel a need to keep you updated. maybe something exciting will happen if someone comments on my posts. hmmm . . . yeah. :-) so, in sum: i am frustrated and very, very happy. :-D <-see??

edited to add: lunch in pygmy. kevin, ross, steve, and me. talking about luke/acts class.

ross: i think we have to enter the kingdom as a child, but we don't stay that way. like, we have to be humble and dependent to get in.

steve: but we always stay humble and dependent.

mara: so, as we grow, we don't grow into adults, but into Christlikeness.

kevin: notice how we talked in class about how the children and the outsiders get it but we never really talked about what it was?

(someone asks what the kids did that we should emulate...)

steve: they ran up to Jesus.

mara: oh, that's beautiful . . . oh.

kevin: you ok?

mara: yeah . . . that's just so beautiful.

ten-minute dreams

before this river
becomes an ocean
~ faith, george michael

been having some funny between-snooze-button-slams dreams . . . one involved my having gorgeous hair which - shocker! - i do. but, seriously: that human imagination is enough to make me believe in intelligent design. i don't just believe it because they tell me to. fyi.

in other news, i'm happy. and if that isn't an exciting update, i no know what is. it doesn't take care of the whole world, but it helps a wee bit.

morgan's face makes me sad, i drew a puppy in a cape ('cause i'm a girl), and i heart you all.

say say say

if you haven't done so already, please read the post below first.

excellent. so, peter copied my post on his blog, and it's been getting comments over there. here are a few thoughts of mine.

this one time, i made a promise that included the line, "i will be faithful to the purposes for which God raised up the salvation army, sharing the good news of Jesus Christ, endeavouring to win others to Him, and in His name caring for the needy and the disadvantaged."

i think that means my hands are supposed to get dirty, too. it's individualistic to think division of labour applies to the church the way it does to a factory. there are some basic functions every cell performs. (btw, i think this applies to all Christians, and not just us. but it especially applies to us because we sign pieces of paper that talk about how it SO applies to us.)

this other time, i realized that worship must always be on God's terms, not mine. i doubt a lot of israelites were begging to be sprinkled with blood as part of worship . . . God still asked it. few non-Christians have begged me to tell them about Jesus . . . i still think i'm probably supposed to.

even if you don't think it's an imperative, God is certainly inviting us all into communion and baptism. why we would refuse - as individuals, let alone as a community! - is beyond me. every other denomination of Christians has sought Christ in the mysteries. why are we resisting?

p.s. i think there is something uniquely powerful about parish-based ministry because it's a real concerted effort to effect spiritual growth and change in a given community. and i think the church is more like family than like friends: you don't get to pick them.

say say . . .

. . . 'cause i'm longing to hear
i know love don't come easy
~say say, secret service

they asked. i wrote:
1) commuting to church isn't ideal: churches should focus on reaching their next-door neighbours today.

2) there is far too great a disconnect between the church and social services wings of the salvation army. every congregation should be serving meals, assisting with the street van, and otherwise participating in social services on a regular basis. if congregants are not given a challenge (paired with an opportunity) to regularly and personally get involved in saving souls and serving suffering humanity, they are not attending salvation army churches. if our good news does not include freedom from poverty, abuse, addiction, hopelessness, pride, lust, bitterness, rejection, and all other forms of bondage, we are not the salvation army.

3) too many people continue attending salvation army churches without paying heed to our core values. our leaders are in the unique position of not having to pander to congregants, since they are ultimately accountable to dhq, thq, and God. use that beautiful opportunity to push the envelope on self-sacrifice, service, healing, and holiness. don't let our agenda get hijacked by those who want to talk about whether band music and black suits define us. wounded hearts inspire us and union with God beckons us. let us march along the road set out for us, and may nothing deter us from radical, senseless love.

4) bring back the sacraments and bring them back now. educate us on them, 'cause some of us might get confused. in short: we need tradition. no, not for salvation. for that other thing . . . what's it called? oh, yeah: community that reaches beyond our clique and into the so-called church invisible we claim to believe in. also, as a means of grace.

double back

i finished watching back to the future iii this morning (yay stay-at-home-church!) and was truly moved by this one thing doc brown says: ...your future hasn't been written yet. no one's has. your future is whatever you make it. so make it a good one, both of you.

sigh.

then i went upstairs and, right there on the weather network, none other than david suzuki was talking about how the future isn't predetermined, and how our actions today will shape tomorrow. he was probably talking about global warming, but i was still stuck on doc brown.

never confuse a gift with a given.

problem solved

you will notice that what we are aiming at when we fall in love is a very strange paradox. the paradox consists of the fact that, when we fall in love, we are seeking to re-find all or some of the people to whom we were attached as children. on the other hand, we ask our beloved to correct all of the wrongs that these early parents or siblings inflicted upon us. so that love contains in it the contradiction: the attempt to return to the past and the attempt to undo the past.
~ professor levy in "crimes and misdemeanors"

quotables 2006

i'm not sad, i'm complicated. chicks dig it.
~house

mom: you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you marry one!
dad: i married a frog-kisser!

the belief that God became man in birth, suffering, and death is the ultimate mindf*ck. can i write that on the exam?
~ross

there are windows!
~kristin and mara, in the worst ever response to a proposition

ah, [evangelical complementarian] Christianity . . . the perfect balance between new age and islam.
~steve

getting dressed will make me late . . . but it is SO important.
~michelle

i always suspected that the promised land was outside this classroom.
~dylan

let's not reflect on anything, because then we might be responsible for how we live our lives!
~jen

and you probably weren't baptised into an ethiopian restaurant.
~priest at st. peter's orthodox church

i believe in an invisible man in the clouds . . . everybody cry now!
~steve

it just makes you want to get drunk and sleep with someone random so you can enjoy your wedding night.
~mara

is islamic a language?
~kevin

that's beautiful . . . in two minutes you convinced me to be a democrat.
~deniss

if that's really what happened, i'm pretty sure satan was in the right.
~ross

jones [soda] is more of a prophet than brian maclaren.
~ross

clever Christians keep me Christian.
~ross

if there's one thing bible college has taught me, it's to question the authority of scripture.
~steve

what is it about girls who can count?

house vs. God.