There were a number of memorable (and quotable) moments in the film. There is a line spoken by Wilber’s wife-to-be, Barbara Spooner…"It seems to me, that if there is a bad taste in your mouth, you spit it out. You don't constantly swallow it back." This is a creed by which many might argue I already live. I’m not sure that is entirely true. But I do think there is a big difference between turning “the other cheek” and spiritual/personal compromise. The former is kind to all as, by Christ’s example, the principle demonstrates grace and a higher sense of personal value than that which is satisfied by simple retaliation seeking vindication. The latter is cruel to all; both the one who compromises, hiding or avoiding the truth in the name of grace, and the one who is robbed of ever feeling truth’s weight or is, in genuine grace, required to respond to it.
So, here it is, from where my grace ends and where God’s must begin: You see, I had forgotten about this moment in the film until last night. It leapt out at me like a tiger at his prey. In general, I am pretty careful about not taking doctrine from media, anecdote or tradition. Still, I’m not sure this isn’t a sound Scriptural/spiritual concept. “You only feel the thorns… once you stop running.” I’ve been grieved, vexed, if you will, lately by certain layers of negativity that surround me. I am referring to my own attitudes as well as those of others in my world (though each is decidedly different). I often justify my own negativity because of the intentions, the motivations behind it (though these themselves deserve scrutiny). Still, I cannot say the intentions of others are malicious—the motivations, sometimes questionable. But, back to the plank in my own eye.
There are ways (maybe “areas” would be a better word) in which I feel I have stopped moving. I don’t know exactly when it happened. Still, it did. A pause from time to time seems reasonable, even wise, right? Catching one’s breath, assessing the progress, mapping the next leg of the course, enjoying the environment, tending to a wound or an ache, refreshing through nourishment, entertaining the need for rest… But, there are consequences. Loss of momentum, stiffening of the muscles, recognition of pain (the loss of adrenaline), slowing of the heart, a clouding of one’s sense of direction, grappling with the temptation to make camp rather than forge ahead (it is, after all, much easier to stay at rest once one has already established the state—thank you Sir Isaac Newton)...
But William Pitt calls it “feeling the thorns.” Here’s the thing. Thorns hurt. Especially in your feet. And I don’t know anyone who, when in serious pain, cavalierly shrugs it off and moves on. Seriously. When we are in pain, it usually shows in one way or another. Conspicuous observation #2… when we are in pain, we usually do our best to get out of it. Either this, or, if we are narcissists suffering from a victim complex, we juice it for all it’s worth. Our selfishness (or distortion of grace, stipulating others should demonstrate God’s love toward us by our definitions not His) convinces us others should know and care and be responsible in some way for making us feel better about it. Unfortunately, this sounds all too familiar to me.
Right now is a challenging time in the life of the faith community to which I belong (am even a leader). The community itself is MUCH older than I and, I’m afraid it just may be that many of its wonderful members (my friends) have stopped running also. I say this primarily because it seems our complaints and discussions and perspectives sound more like loss of momentum, stiffening of the muscles, recognition of pain (the loss of adrenaline), slowing of the heart, a clouding of one’s sense of direction and grappling with the temptation to make camp rather than forge ahead.
The problem is with that idiot Newton. How do you get the proverbial ball rolling again once it is at rest.
Rest, hmmm, that sounds WAY too nice. I have been thinking for some time that what I needed most was to catch my breath, to get a good handle on where I am and where I’m going, to map out the next leg of the course, to learn to take in and find joy in my environment, to heal and settle into the ease of restoration, to be nourished and rest. But, now I’m thinking these things may not be hiding where my best logic dictates they should be found. Maybe they were never in the stopping. Maybe the thorns don’t need fixing. Maybe they don’t matter as much as I think they do. Maybe they are a lame attempt at distraction (lame but effective by election). Maybe I need to leave them alone and just start running again. Not running away from the thorns. Just running the course ahead. I don’t think it would take long before I stop feeling their sting. You know they say adrenaline is the best pain killer. I imagine purpose is pretty potent as well.
Luke 9:57-62 (The Cost of Following Jesus)
As they were walking along, someone said to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.” But Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens to live in, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place even to lay his head.”
He said to another person, “Come, follow me.” The man agreed, but he said, “Lord, first let me return home and bury my father.” But Jesus told him, “Let the spiritually dead bury their own dead! Your duty is to go and preach about the Kingdom of God.”
Another said, “Yes, Lord, I will follow you, but first let me say good-bye to my family.” But Jesus told him, “Anyone who puts a hand to the plow and then looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God.”
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OK, so this entry gives me absolutely no comfort whatsoever. I had to blog about it myself. What is this feeling I get when I stop to breathe that makes me immediately want to get right back into the battle? Could it be that we are not created for repose? Or is it that we feel like we are being selfish when we take time for ourselves, like God did not give us this luxury?
Jesus did take time away from the disciples to reflect and pray, so I think it is perfectly fine to take some time for ourselves (as I will do shortly). But maybe the fear is what comes after the repose? Seems like Jesus had to calm the stormy sea, confront his favorite disciple, and so on immediately after a period of renewal.
Or maybe, we fret over too much time to think. I wish I could stop the thinking, but that never happens. So maybe we always feel the thorns, it is just our awareness of them that changes.
BTW, I never saw the movie. I cannot seem to go to the movies ever. No rest for the wicked. Uh, wait . . .
Ah, but I never rejected the idea or necessity of rest. Only challenged its form and the weight we place on certain activities (or lack thereof) and actions to provide for us the necessary repose. I don’t want to become (or maybe remain) pharisaical about how or even why to keep the Sabbath. I also wonder if the whole idea is less structural and more of a permanent availability to God’s restoration. Sabbath moments, Sabbath revelations, Sabbath relationships, Sabbath attitudes, etc.
The bulk of my consideration on the issue has to do with the framing and source of dissatisfaction—focusing on things that were so far less important when we were running. I only question whether or not they deserve the value they suddenly receive once we’ve stopped. Is a problem always a problem or is it only a problem relative to our purpose. For example, is it a problem for a local church NOT to successfully meet every need within its community if it is successfully meeting needs no one else can or will (fulfilling the mission for which it has been commissioned/designed by God). I don’t believe so, as long as this faith community is not neglecting its fundamental forms (that is, its heart beats but it has forgotten to breath). And, truthfully, it seems that complaints are fewer and are generally considered to have less validity in cases where purpose is clear and active. However, if a local church is successfully meeting NO needs within its community, if it is at missional rest, most everyone seems to have an opinion—a thought on how it should be done, a complaint as to why it is not being done… problems abound.
This is not just an organizational thing. I’ve discovered the same to be true in my life personally. Still, it is easier to step back and see it around me than in me. Either way, when deciding what problems, troubles, complaints, dissatisfactions truly deserve my attention—when working to become as effective as possible, establishing joy as a motivator, replacing constant frustration—I am finding this quote brings a perspective that just may have strong spiritual merit.
The idea of not stopping long enough to feel the pains of our trials is exactly what has brought me through many trials. I think, if a goal is worthy and appropriate, slowing down can have a harmful effect.
Two threads of thought for me here
First, some thinking/doing/being, remarkable people have expressed fear of eternity. "Entering into that Sabbath rest" (i.e., Hebrews 4) for eternity seems a boring proposition. Too much time on my hands ... I don't fear this. I am intrigued by what our amazing, creative, designer God could possibly mean by "enter into that Sabbath rest" - a thread on speculations could be fun.
Second, some qualities of "doing" on earth are more restful for me than other kinds of "doing". As a primary example, I am more at rest when I am more present in my circumstance. Less thinking about the next thing or multi tasking or ruminating about the mood or condition of those around/with me. More present. Think of Jesus saying, "tomorrow has enough worries of its own" - we were created for presence. Or, maybe, "present". Future and past are distractions, at least from restfulness?
"Think of Jesus saying, 'tomorrow has enough worries of its own' - we were created for presence. Or, maybe, 'present'."
Dr. Pam, I'm not sure how this fits into your "enter in to my rest" proposition, but, in recent months I have found myself in multiple relationships giving curious council. A small handful of people in my life have, independently of one another, stood face to face with difficult, unexpected, even devistating news/circumstances. All have been people who trust God. Prayerfully, I have felt compelled to point out that, regardless of what He may have planned for them, regardless of whether or not He intends to reveal His glory through miraculous intervention making all things right and whole; whatever His plan for tomorrow, God has purpose for today. What I mean is, though I cannot understand the fullness of why, He has chosen to allow this day for you.
So, instead of becoming entirely focused on leaving it, there is some degree to which we must embrace the course of present discovery. Why this? Why now? What do I need to hear, see, know, understand, feel... be or become today? Where are You in this moment? Who are You in this moment? Who do I want You to be? Who do You want to be and are they different? I am convinced we round many of the same mountains again and again because, focused only on the path ahead, dedicated solely to escape from our present, we miss the lessons, discoveries, wisdom offered, freedoms planned for today.
Maybe God's best for us, God's rest for us is not what we thing it is.
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