“I’m so sorry, I’ll keep you in my prayers…” “We’re praying for you…”
It’s an almost automatic response when we’ve heard something bad happened to someone we know. It seems the Christian thing to do – pray for God’s divine intervention during this hard time.
Frankly, I think it is often a cop-out. Continue reading
I’m pretty sure that the Sermon this week was on Sacred Space. There was definitely a passage about the church structure looking like an upside-down boat. I didn’t get the whole thesis though, I was distracted…
The story for Children’s Time this week was “The Good Shepherd and the Lost Sheep.” It’s a favorite with the youngest regular attender at our church, so I wasn’t surprised when he practically grabbed it out of my hand as soon as we were done praying. He was nice about it, just overly enthusiastic. What I was surprised about (since it’s been a year since we told this story and 6 months since we told the other Good Shepherd story) was the way he worked with it. Continue reading
Christers (Christians who only go on Christmas and Easter) miss a lot of the church experience.
Sundaiers (Church-goers who fly in and out the doors right at the beginning/end of worship) miss a lot of the church experience.
There’s so many things about being church that happens in the ‘inbetween’ times. The time between Baptism and Last Rites. The times between Christmas and Easter. The time Between Sunday and Saturday.
The time between the Cross and the Resurrection.
These days, this Thursday-to-Sunday time, they’re some of the hardest, most important, most powerful, most painful, most spiritual, most fulfilling time in the church calendar. At least in my opinion. And hey, this is my blog so it’s my opinion that counts. Ha.
Let me be clear, I’m not talking about the important remembrance of Jesus’ death on the cross. What moves me, each and every year, is the pause.
the dark time.
the breath.
Those three days when we remember, not just (to quote Worship & Wonder) “The mystery that Jesus died and God made him alive again” but the time when remember that resurrection does not come instantaneously.
For the past year, much of my life has existed (and continues to exist) in these “Grave Days” – time between what has been and what will be. I’ll admit it. I’m pretty shitty at dealing philosophically or spiritually or emotionally with my “Grave Time.” I want things to change, and I want it now! (Stomp foot, bang hand, throw temper tantrum, cry…)
My mother has a philosophy on life- you will continue to be stuck in the same situation until you learn what you need to learn from it. Circumstances might change, but you’ll continue to battle the same ‘problems’ until you learn what you need to learn. I hate/love this philosophy. And somewhere along the way, I’ve adopted the wisdom of it. Go figure.
My life has been in a state of transition for about 4 years. It’s been in a SERIOUS state of transition for just over 12 months now. And, frankly, it is hell.
*Pause* he was crucified, died and was buried. He descended into hell…
I want to have a direction. I want to have stability. I want to know where I’m going (or at least what path I’m trying next). I want to leave the crossroads, pick up my pack and continue on my way.
Patience is a virtue, but not one of mine.
Jesus’ Grave Time reminds me, every year, that the celebration of Easter doesn’t immediately follow. It takes time to perform a transformation. Weight can’t be lost overnight. Trades can’t be learned. Habits can be broken. Friends can’t be made, houses can’t be bought, bread can’t rise, babies can’t gestate, decisions can’t be made, hearts can’t be healed. Things that really, truly, change your life can’t be rushed.
Damn it.
So, these Grave Days I honor the places that are in transition in and around my life.
I’ve been doing ceramics again recently and I’m reminded that the way you handle the in-between time, between wet clay sculpture or pot and dry greenware, can make the difference between something that explodes under extreme conditions and something that undergoes an alchemical transition into something beautiful.
May it be also with me.
I just went back and read my post from almost exactly 5 months ago. Wow… what a different place I’m in these days. It’s kind of amazing.
In that post I complained that I couldn’t be closer with people from church because we lived so far away.
I complained that money was tight, always tight.
Mostly I complained that I didn’t feel like I had a direction in life.
Wow… Looking back, within 10 days of that post all 3 of those items had changed dramatically.
So why haven’t I been around? Because change is hard. Adjusting to new life rhythms is hard. Taking on a new job that I enjoy but which requires large quantities of my time is hard. A good-hard but still hard.
I don’t want to go into too much depth yet, but the long and the short of it is that I got a job, rather unexpectedly, at a non-profit organization less than a mile from our church. All is not, of course, sugar plums and doughnuts. However, I do enjoy the work that I’m doing and I find that the difference for me in working for someone else vs. working for myself (i.e.: if I can stand it at all) is working with a non-profit. Go figure?
So the even shorter end of the story is that I’m back. I’m doing well. The Husband and I are doing well (we always were, mostly because he’s amazing and puts up with my crazies) and life is on the upward swing. Not great or easy by any stretch of the imagination, but on the upward swing you can see the light and the sky. And that, in and of itself, is amazing.
If you’re still around, thanks for your patience, your prayers and your thoughts. I do, really, love you all. More good stuff to come, promise 
I almost posted this on Facebook, but the space requirements there (and the snarkyness of it) stayed my hand.
Dear church rumor mill: Cash for gasoline isn’t the reason we’re not coming to church. Nor is our car broken, it works great (and still gets 40mpg). No, we’ve not been there by choice. I’m mad at the world and questioning my faith in God and therefore have no desire to worship something I’m not even sure is really there any more. Hence why I haven’t been in church, at Elder’s Board meeting, blogging, or serving at Table over the past several weeks. It felt hypocritical. Thanks for your concern for my automobile, but it’s fine. It’s my heart that is broken and empty. Thankfully I have great Buddhist friends who noticed have stepped in and helped put me back together again. See you Sunday.
Here’s the problem – I want to have closer relationships with people at our church than I do actually have. It’s only been these past few weeks when said wonderful Buddhist (and atheist/agnostic) friends have been there for me to help heal my broken heart (an unavoidable by-product of feeling like you’ve lost your faith) that I’ve realized just how superficial our relationships with others in our church are.
It’s been a bad month +. As you can tell by the lack of posting here and elsewhere in the world. I thought things were bad last spring and over the summer, but this past month has been very, very bad. Nothing specific, but mostly more of the same sort of stuff that happened in the Panera Breakdown.
A couple of weeks ago, I had a really bad Friday/Saturday. I didn’t want to go to church on Sunday, but had promised to bring something for a post-church event. So we got dressed (which made me feel really bad, fat, ugly, etc.…) and drove to church. The whole way, I’m crying.
We got to the parking lot and I couldn’t go in. I didn’t want to be in there with people who have faith, whose lives have some spark of the Devine in them. I didn’t want to pretend that my life was good, I didn’t want to smile and I didn’t want to explain tears.
So we went to get coffee instead. I had a very healing conversation with a complete stranger.
The next day, I didn’t go to the Elder’s Board meeting. Deciding not to go to that was a huge relief.
I decided not to apply to a general church board I’d been working on an application for. That was a huge relief.
I decided not to go to a week-long leadership training next month, and that was a big relief.
I got someone to cover for me when I was scheduled to serve at the Communion table last week and went to a friend’s Bridal Shower instead.
Allowing myself to not ‘fake it’ through this while in a leadership position, that’s been a relief.
But here’s the thing – no one has asked me if I’m OK.
A couple folks have said that they missed me, but that’s about it. Numerous people, including both of our pastors, have however inquired about my automobile. Not one person has inquired if all is well with my soul. Really? My car?
{Exception – there was one Sunday at the start of this when I went to church and cried/railed with a friend because The Husband and I were having a fight, and someone did email me to say they were praying for me, which I was very touched by… but that was way before I stopped going…}
And you know what? I didn’t post said snarky Facebook post because, well, I wouldn’t haven’t done any different.
There are several folks in our church who I suspect are having crises/questions of faith. But I’ve not called them, or taken them to coffee or sat with them and asked them how they were.
Because I don’t feel that I know them well enough to have that conversation. I don’t feel that the relationship I have with the people at our church is deep enough.
Having written this, I’m reminded and encouraged to fall back on my foundational theology. Well-reasoned and thoughtful in it’s construction, I trust that it wasn’t simply a rhetorical exercise but something inspired by faith even if I’m not feeling that faith now.
God is Love. God is found only in relationship.
and the less helpful, but no less true:
Susan, you’re an idiot – get out of the way.
You see, it’s my own damn fault. Yes, I said damn. If you’re not over the cussing thing by now, don’t read my blog. I temper my words IRL, but the blog comes from my head so I don’t censor.
I’ve not cultivated any relationships of depth with members of our church. I notice when people aren’t there, but I don’t have anyone’s cell numbers to call them and see if they’re ok (let alone actually making those calls).
If I find God in relationships, is it any wonder why I’m feeling like I don’t believe (at least in Christianity) right now when the majority of my “Christian” relationships are lacking?
and yet…
I’m reluctant to take the steps necessary to improve these relationships. In my depression, I isolate myself. I am reluctant to take on more deeper relationships because of the increase in responsibilities that requires. Because I already feel stretched thin. I already feel like I can’t love (read: take care of) the people currently in my life.
And yes, I know all the psychological diagnosis shit that could be done on the above paragraph – please, spare me.
But, even if I know the psychology behind it, that’s still how I feel.
So… where that leaves me
I’m one of those people who, when not overwhelmed by sorrow or pain, can think clearly about my own mental state. Now that I’m feeling a bit better (and yes, I am – both emotionally and spiritually) I can look at my experience and know what I wanted in that moment and why I didn’t get it. Without blaming God (who does make such an easy scapegoat when I’m in turmoil, almost as good as The Husband.)
I love our church. It’s a wonderful community. The sermons are great (even when I write rebuttals to them). The outreach is sincere. The music is amazing and the children are cute (even the ones that are actually child-aged). They let me volunteer and lead in ways that inspire my gifts without taxing my patience. I’ve never once felt bad for saying ‘no’ to a committee seat because I simply thought it would be boring. They understand that, while we do have enough $$ to pay for gasoline, we are on a very limited budget and don’t guilt us about that. It’s a wonderful place.
But church isn’t what happens on Sundays in worship. Church is the relationships we build with one another, living this thing called life together.
We live 45 miles away from the place where we worship on Sundays. When we made the decision to join and become active participants in that faith community, we knew this would be an issue. We held off joining for 2 years because of that. We’re not moving any time soon. And, we’re not the only ones who live far away, our congregation is a niche congregation, not a location congregation.
So the question becomes, how can I work to build deeper relationships with folks I only see on Sundays? How can I work to build the type of relationships with the people I worship with that would be open to the question – “how is it with your soul?” Relationships of the type where we can find God together and in one another?
Is this even possible?
I’d love your input on these questions – it seems to me it should be possible given the technology available today. What’s worked for you? What hasn’t? How can close relationships happen without face-time?
Last Sunday A few Sundays ago (this post has been in the hopper a while, sorry) Mike preached about the Parable of the Workers, AKA the Parable of the Generous Employer, or whatever you want to call Matthew 20:1-16.
Mike is an engaging preacher whose sermons have great exegesis and textual study. However, last week’s this sermon felt like it missed the mark for me. Not that it wasn’t interesting or moving spiritually, but the point (God always welcomes you, even if you’re late) only really resonated with me because we had been late to Church on Sunday (an abnormality, I swear). Perhaps I wasn’t listening closely enough (it happens often). Whatever, the sermon is about what the listeners get out of it anyway. What I got was a two three weeks of contemplating how the text could apply to our current situation (The Husband is job hunting in this horrible economy). So, yeah, I guess Mike succeeded 
, at least in making me think.
Anyway… on with my meditation/rebuttal. Enjoy.
I did enjoy the point that Mike made about our views of entitlement, something I’ll vamp on later. First:
What I wanted to hear about re: this scripture was a) what is this telling me to do as a small business owner and b) what is this telling my friends and family members currently out of work and looking for employment with a significant portion of the rest of the population in the US?
The faithful imagining that was done over “why the workers didn’t get jobs at the start of the day” in Mike’s sermon and the corresponding children’s sermon said this: They were lazy and slept in so they didn’t get the prime pick of jobs. Frankly, I don’t think that’s a helpful reading of the scripture.
In the United States there’s this prevailing ethos that if you’re out of work, it’s your own fault because you’ve failed in some way.
Frankly it’s Bull Shit. (can I say that here? Guess I just did, deal.)
What if they were there from the start of the day? What if they were qualified, motivated, diligent workers and the only problem was that there weren’t enough jobs to go around? What if their normal jobs had been outsourced to another town/country? What if their normal employer was now using slaves (at much cheaper rates) and no longer needed to pay a full denarii for their skilled labor?
In an open market economy, these are more often the reasons people are out of work.
As a small business owner, I feel guilty about this. I don’t add to the job market’s outlook, which is something I feel like I should be doing as a Christian Entrepreneur. However, employees just aren’t in my business model. They never have been and I don’t expect them ever to be. Managing employees has always been an annoying part of working in an office to me. The way my home business works is on outsourcing. I’m the person people outsource TO and when I have really big projects, or ones that I find boring and repetitive, I outsource THOSE overseas.
Of course, I’m not doing anything to hurt the job market, but I’m also not helping it.
Perhaps I should do more.
But I won’t. That’s not the sort of business I want to run. *sigh* oh well.
What about all the workers out there though? The ones without jobs. Standing in line at employment agencies and in parking lots. Submitting hundreds and hundreds of applications just to get the chance of an interview.
They’re worrying about their families too. They’re worrying about their futures, their homes, their stability too.
In the United States we historically judge a person’s worth based on their work. The most economically successful people are the ‘best’ ones. The ones who struggle to make ends meet are somehow less so. Leading us to, of course, the ones without work being viewed as ‘broken’ somehow – like, if you’re not gainfully employed you’re a ‘bad’ (in the moral sense) person. Thank you Puritans.
Most of the time, when we and our families are employed, we don’t think about this. Instead, we think about whether or not we’re earning enough and what we’re going to buy next. That’s the gut reaction we have to this passage – the guy who did the most work didn’t get paid any more! Time to get HR on the phone and negotiate for a higher salary.
However, when you are out of work, this resonates strongly. Many people become depressed and unmotivated by a lack of finding a job. Making finding a job even harder. Causing us (and them) to view them as even more unworthy (because now they’re ‘not trying’).
A job is a horrible thing to base a valuation of a person’s worth on.
The part of this parable that is challenging isn’t the amount each of the workers is paid. We’re told in our footnotes and exegesis that the amount paid is a fair and common daily wage.
What is challenging is summed up in what the worker says to the employer “you have made them equal to us.”
This is the answer to both of my questions. And it is, indeed, Good News. For me, as a Christian Small Business owner and for me, as the wife of someone looking for work.
Whether employer or employee, day laborer or Oil Barron, Jesus makes us all equal. The first will be last and the last will be first because there is NO ranking system.
And in such a world (which Jesus tells us is here, now, in us, if only we will look) how does becoming aware of such a truth change how we treat one another? How we view ourselves?
What is a sin? Do you know, of all the theology questions that people ask me at odd and inappropriate moments, no one has ever asked me what a sin is?
Do you think it’s because they know what a sin is and don’t want to be reminded?
or,
Do people think I don’t believe in sin because I’m a liberal?
Strangely, I’ve begun to believe it’s the latter. Especially given the shock most people get when I say that I believe in Evil, Hell and Sin.
Um… have you looked at the news lately?
Perhaps it’s kismet that I’ve ended up putting off this post about sin until 9/11. How, after such an event (or after an event like the earthquake in Haiti that killed 100x as many people or the current suffering due to lack of water in the developing world today), could I have a theology that doesn’t include a theology of Sin, Hell and Evil.
[Before we get any further, I feel I need to say that I don’t believe that ANY of the victims of ANY of the above events were ‘being punished for their sins’ that’s just not how the God I know works.]
When I posted about Christianity and Jealousy yesterday a few days ago, many people were intrigued by my definition of sin:
“sin is the breaking of a relationship”
Rather than get into a conversation about the nature of Sin on Facebook (wow… that’s also a good title for a blog post… ) I promised I’d follow up that comment with a more theologically dense conversation about my understanding of Sin.
BTW, for those of you who care about such things, this deserves a (hat tip to) h/t: Martin Buber, Claremont School of Theology and John Cobb, among others who all formed me in many different ways theologically.
So, what does it mean to sin?
Google (which about 3 years ago replaced my regular use of a dictionary) defines it like this (search for define:sin):
n:An immoral act considered to be a transgression against divine law.
“Immoral” is something which goes against accepted understandings of right and wrong, good and bad. It is very culturally based. So, let’s leave that one alone for a moment and figure out how to understand divine law.
Without going into it too deeply right now I understand God in the following way:
God = Love ∴ Love = God
Love is, at it’s very core, a relationship. So, if we are to understand God as a relationship, we can begin to understand all sorts of ‘divine laws’ laid out in the Bible and other holy scriptures in other traditions from this perspective.
However, I like the Cliff Notes version that Jesus gave us:
“A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; As I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” John 13:43 (KJV because that’s the one that’s in the public domain)
So the divine law, according to this commandment, is to love one another. But here we run into problems with the English language. “Love” could mean so many things.
I “love” my husband. I “love” my mother. I “love” God. I “love” my country. I “love” my cats, my car, my friends, my family, my church, etc.… The list goes on and on.
The relationship, however, that I have with my husband and with God and with my Country are all very different relationships. Is the love different?
I used to think so. I used to think that romantic love was different from familial love which was different from fraternal love which was different from filial love. However, if I am going to define God as being love, that concept no longer makes sense. God doesn’t change depending on the person I’m talking with at the moment, therefore love must not change. So maybe my understanding of Love is wrong.
Here’s where I came to, personally:
My love for my husband is the same as my love for my cat which is the same as my love for my country and my Mother.
*gasp* I know, heresy. Don’t tell Mom I love her like I love my cat unless you’re willing to explain the rest of this to her as well.
Here’s the thing. The love experience is the same – it’s that experience of finding God in the relationship. It’s that experience of “my heart being warmed” by being with the other. The other emotional and physiological responses I have to that relationship with that person, thing, event, place, etc. are what differ.
My relationship with my husband and my mother are, by definition, very different relationships. However the love is the same. Neither is anything like my relationship with my Country – how could it be? – but the love is the same. The cats and my car evoke much lower levels of additional responses in me, although I still find God in my relationship with each of them and therefore can say that I ‘love’ them. (yes, I find God in my relationship with my car.)
Note: this extends to my relationship with myself and with God as well. I love both of us, but the relationships are very different.
“Love” is not the definition of the relationship, it is a part of the relationship.
Sometimes relationships get broken. Sometimes those breaks are so severe that any chance of finding God in that Other are banished forever.
Doing something that breaks the relationship is a sin.
Why? Because it goes against God’s will for us, that we be fully in relationship with God. That we experience this “love” thing in all the ways we can in all the places we can.
So.
Clear as mud, right?
What about all those rules? Those “commandments” in the Bible. The Rules for Living that are so popular in pulpits around the country?
Yeah, sure. If you need more guidance in how to be in relationship and love (and most of us do) in a way that is life-giving and God-seeking, these rules are what we (as a religious tradition made up of humans) have come up with to help us out. Check it out (my irreverent paraphrasing, sorry Moses and ):
See how that works?
Don’t worry, you don’t need to agree with me. This is, after all, a personal theology. If this understanding helps you, woohoo. If not, find one that does.
Now on to the heavy/hard parts.
The most common questions that lead to a discussion of sin are about divorce and homosexuality. It seems everyone wants to know if they’re sins. I don’t believe so, but let me explain why.
Is divorce a sin? No. Divorce is breaking a legal contract. However, divorces don’t happen in vacuums. There were things, situations, places, experiences that lead to the need for a divorce. These are sins. Sometimes these ‘sins’ are one-sided (such as in an abusive relationship) and the choice to leave is the only way to avoid breaking the relationships you have in the rest of your life. Sometimes, often, these ‘sins’ are two-fold (or more) involving a pattern of miscommunication and provocation and ‘little things’ that, over time, add up to kill the relationship. In either case, divorce is a symptom (or resolution) but not the sin itself. The sin is not nurturing a healthy, whole place for love to thrive.
Is homosexuality (or other gender orientations and sexual preferences) a sin? No. The societal choice to ostracize and demonize persons of differing sexual preference, and the historical (and biblical) use homosexual sex acts as a mean of subjugating those who were weaker is definitely a sin (which Leviticus speaks out against). Of course, just like in a heterosexual relationship, sin can enter in when the relationship is broken. However, any relationship where one finds love and learns more about themselves and God, is a thing to celebrate and lift up – it’s embodying God and I cannot consider that a sin.
The other question I get is surrounding suicide. I don’t know if this is a sin or not, although I tend to believe it is. However I don’t believe it’s an irredeemable sin. Why? Because I don’t know what comes after death. If our lives end with death and what they were is the basis for the judgment of where we go next, then I would tend to believe that suicide were a sin from which there was no returning. It is a very final breaking of the relationship between one’s self and God. That is not, however, the God and world view I believe. I believe that nothing, not even death, can separate us from God’s love for us – from God seeking to be in relationship with us. Therefore, while it is a sin to try and break your relationship with God and to break your relationship with your self and your life in the world, I believe that God will continue to forgive and seek a relationship with you.
However, that said, suicide makes it much harder. If you’re considering suicide, please, please, please get professional help (at least try it first, what have you got to loose?). Considering suicide is a symptom of a deeper problem that can be addressed and over come in this world. Don’t give up, there is hope and life to be found.
So. To conclude:
Sin is the breaking of a relationship.
With yourself. With God. With others. With the world.
At least, that’s what I think. How do you define Sin?
Did you hear? I killed the Borg. It was sad. Resistance is, apparently, not futile. I also killed the budget. Didn’t I just say killing was a sin? *sigh* Read all about it on AKA Martha.
I’ve been working on a follow up post about my theology of sin. It was going to get published yesterday.
Then I got sick. Bleh. I hate being sick, it pretty much sucks.
The Husband plied me with Ginger Ale, Saltines and Pepto Bismal and I’m much better today. I’m just not going to be eating deep-fried goodness for a while.
Today, however, we’re going to Archives bookstore, the beach and to hang out with friends.
So we’ll deal with sin on Sunday.
Right now? Right now I’m going to go shave my legs so I can wear shorts while walking in the surf of the Pacific Ocean.
You “Midwestern Fall Lovers” (you know who you are) who have begun to wax poetically about turning leaves, crisp air and Pumpkin Spice Lattes – I’ll stick my toes in the sand for you. 
I’ll write about sin tomorrow. Promise.
Want something more? Check out How To Blow A Budget in 10 Easy Steps on AKA Martha today.
Hi. My name is Susan (AKA Mary, AKA Martha) and I have a jealousy problem.
I try not to let it get the best of me, to keep it in the realms of envy and out of my creating relationships with people of whom I am jealous.
This week I was reading John Meunier’s blog and wandered my way over to this post about Shaun King leaving his church in Atlanta. It’s an interesting read and has been very popular among the pastor bloggers I follow – Meunier’s was just the first one I came across in my feed reader. Not being familiar with Shaun King, I poked around his site a bit.
Man am I jealous of him. He’s started numerous non-profit charities, a 700+ person church, has a beautiful wife and kids and speaks regularly on TV and around the nation. I have no doubt that whatever he decides to do next will be very successful.
I’m also jealous of LA Fuji Mama, who I went to school with from elementary to High School. Not only does she have an amazing successful (and delicious) food blog, a beautiful family and a LAW DEGREE, she’s about one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Always has been. I used to think, some day, when I grow up, I’ll be as cool and nice as she is.
Then there’s the people I’m meeting for the first time. The people whose glowing introductions and reputations proceed them. The people who seem so self-assured and confident in themselves. Who slip seamlessly into the life of the church.
What? I’m jealous of people at church?
Damn Skippy I am. I might be alone in this, but I bet I’m probably not.
I got to thinking about this jealousy tendency of mine this morning after talking with Sensei Prakash last night about jealousy within the Aikido world. Why does this monster rear it’s head in my life?
I’m not a stand up and take notice kind of person. I am the middle of the road. Or rather, driving the speed limit on my correct side of the road kind of person.
I’m not diamonds or pearls. I’m a comfortable pair of blue jeans, well broken in.
But I’ve always felt like I could do more.
And, thus, the jealousy of those who have and do do more. People whose lives hold an uncomfortable mirror to my own failure to achieve what I keep thinking I should be able to achieve.
I am a fan of Star Trek, especially Star Trek The Next Generation. I’ve been watching my way through season 6 during lunches and I recently watched the episode entitled Tapestry. This is one of my favorite episodes, the truths and questions it struggles with are handled with grace and ambiguity seldom found in today’s television.
In Tapestry, Captain Picard is injured on an away mission and his artificial heart gives out. He ‘dies’ on the table and has an encounter with Q, the god-like being that has been his nemesis since Episode 1 of the series. After some metaphysical discussions about the afterlife (great, but for another blog post), Q sends Picard back to re-do one of the regrets from his youth.
After he comes through the incident he is returned to the present time. Nothing has changed for anyone else, except him. Instead of Captain, he is a Lieutenant Junior Grade in Astrophysics on the Enterprise. Concerned at his lack of rank and achievement despite his long career, he sits down with Commander Riker and Counselor Troi to discuss his future as a Star Fleet officer. Here’s what he says:
PICARD (as a Lt. JG officer)
Please. This is important to me. I know I can do more.TROI
Hasn’t this been the problem all along? Throughout your career… you’ve had lofty goals… but you’ve never been willing to do what’s necessary to attain them.PICARD
Would that be your evaluation as well, Commander?RIKER
(uncomfortable)
I’d have to agree with the Counselor. You talk about wanting more… but when it comes to doing something about it, you hang back.
Wow… this is totally me.
Instead of doing something about the things I want to be different, I hang back. I see other people doing great things, but instead of being inspired by them, I fall back into jealousy.
I fall back into sin.
If sin is the breaking of a relationship (more on this definition of sin later) I finally get why jealousy is one of the biggies. When I’m jealous of someone, the potential for a life-giving relationship with that person is tainted by that jealousy. In addition, indulging in that jealousy is harmful to the relationship I have with myself – I am no longer comparing myself to myself, but I’m judging myself against an external standard. Finally, it has the potential, unchecked, to endanger my relationship with God because the dissatisfaction it breeds blinds me to the blessings already in my life.
So. What can I do to overcome this?
The thing I tell other people is this: God does not call you to be the person you’re jealous of. God calls you to be you. Focus on being authentically you and the person God calls you to be.
Ha. Advice is like spiral-cut ham: easy to dish out but not something I really like to eat often (Honeybaked Ham is excepted from this – I could eat their glazy-goodness daily if it wouldn’t kill the planet, put me in the poor house and give me a heart attack simultaneously.)
I obviously don’t know the real answer to this. I do know that, for me, the thing that kills jealously like nothing else is building a real relationship with that person.
The only other thing I can do is try and embrace the little green monster instead of hiding it in a closet and feeding it spiral-cut ham under the door. He’s a messenger from my sub-conscious telling me where I’m currently sub-consciously beating myself up.
The Zen practitioners I learn from tell me something about what to do when I find this out. Forgive myself and let go.
Forgiveness. Yeah, that’s easier said than done, especially when it’s my own.
…
I felt like I should add something about Salvation, Grace and Resurrection here, but it sounded preachy and un-authentic. The truth is that I struggle regularly with my little green monster and daily with self-forgiveness – that’s the reality of my LIFE of faith. Theological reflection to come later. In the meantime, read about the Birthday Love I got from my friends and family to get me through my big 3-0.
God, where are you now?
There was a time when we walked along the beach, side by side.
When we chatted and laughed and hung on each other’s thoughts as lovers might.
Full of hope for the future we were building together.
A time when I learned the forms and structures and techniques of belief
but not the heart.
There was a time when I followed you around
and you laughed at my exuberance, my flying curls
flapping like a puppy’s ears as I ran after you, giddy in your presence.
Your laughter filled me with joy, my faith felt so full it might overflow if I wasn’t careful.
And I learned the grace and heart and meaning of love
but not the pain.
There was a time when I cried on your shoulder,
and you held me and comforted me and cried with me -
holding me close to your bosom as you bent over me, protecting me from the world.
In your presence I found the peace to endure, to carry on despite the pain.
You carried me as I learned the love and pain and truth of life
but still not the loneliness.
Now, there is this horrid season of emptiness.
When those times are packed up tight in U-Haul boxes, labeled carefully.
I walk from room to empty room, my footsteps echoing.
I wonder at the loneliness I feel,
the way my voice rings in unaccustomed echoes from barren walls.
God, where are you?
I check the labels, but none of these boxes is the right one.
I try to comfort myself, knowing that the movers are good at their jobs.
I tell myself the boxes will be unpacked and it will be like Christmas.
Hope will come to walk on the beach.
Faith and Joy will play hopscotch in the drive
and Peace will enfold us once again.
But I am scared, and lonely and lost.
and the comforts fall on dead ears. (my own)
Ringing back to me, telling me of my solitude.
God, where are you?