Archive for 2014

Clapping Hands and Neighborhood Rhythms

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While searching for pictures for this blog, I found this great artist named Santu Mofokeng, whose art touches on various social, political, and spiritual issues including the intersection of the sacred and secular and religious expression under oppression. His work mirrors some of my experiences in Philly. Check out this cool article on his work: http://www.artthrob.co.za/04june/reviews/dkrut.html.

This week, I participated in my first black (really mixed race due to the presence of myself and my teammates) gospel choir practice. When I arrived at the practice, I was ready for some life-giving time of pouring out my heart to God in community with my neighbors and church family. I must say that I was not disappointed. Everyone welcomed us with open arms and open hearts.

But there was just one problem. Let's just say that when my friends and I joined, the choir "just happened" to experience a sudden and dire rhythm problem. I don't want to be one to dictate cause and effect, but it seems as if we may have contributed largely to this rhythmic mix-up of sorts. During one song in particular, I was having a significantly harder time keeping the rhythm while singing (not to mention swaying) than those around me. Plus, my hands started to hurt from all of the clapping we were doing. I know that may sound kind of wimpy, but it's true. My hands just couldn't stand the test of endurance that the choir practice required.

I started to think more about the people around me who weren't having a hard time clapping on the beat, and whose hands probably were not hurting. It's likely that many of my fellow choir members grew up in the black church or at least in a neighborhood/culture where they experienced similar rhythms. Perhaps their hands were calloused from all of their hard physical labor, or even from clapping for long periods of time from a young age. Maybe they had an easier time because it had been part of their culture and being for such a long time.

I feel like I'm coming into my neighborhood like soft, unrhythmic hands. I hurt so quickly and easily at the things my neighbors likely experience daily. They are probably somewhat calloused to the experiences that make me feel anywhere from uncomfortable to distraught. I'm constantly trying to join the rhythms of my neighborhood, awkwardly swaying the wrong way by asking ridiculous questions or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

One thing I experienced with hurting hands at gospel choir practice, however, was grace. My fellow choir members were right there beside me to consistently model the right rhythm. They gently corrected me in love when I got it wrong. Isn't that how grace looks? In the same way, my neighbors consistently afford me grace. They answer my silly questions as if they are important questions that have been and should be asked by every neighbor. They lend me tools when I need them and keep my food in their freezer when mine breaks down. They treat me with dignity, even when I oftentimes stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe that's what being a good neighbor truly looks like.

Longing for Intimacy

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            One thing that some of you may not know about me is that I constantly battle feelings of loneliness. No, I don’t cry myself to sleep every night, pining for my true love to come into my life so we can get married and have babies and live happily ever after. It’s a different type of loneliness. I’ve found that even though I have plenty of healthy relationships and people who care about me and pray for me, I am unable to connect with others as deeply as I would like. A few years ago, I discovered that this difficulty may simply be something that most people with my personality type (ENFJ for the win!) typically struggle with. Throughout this Summer, however, it has reared its ugly head in multiple ways, which I will attempt to describe for your reading pleasure. From these experiences, I found that my trouble may not actually be with loneliness, but with a longing for intimacy. Please allow me to explain.

            The first happening occurred when I attend a friend’s wedding. In all of my infinite wisdom, I chose to attend the event unaccompanied. After all, I’m confident in my single-ness. Right? Well, when I arrived, I quickly realized that I knew a grand total of three people there, including the groom. Even those people were acquaintances. Throughout the night, however, I used my extreme extroversion (alliteration alert) to engage in conversation with those around me. I felt as if I was seducing people into conversations in which I did not belong, with the sole purpose of appeasing my loneliness. Most were with extremely kind couples. As a professional third wheel, however, I grew weary because I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been a nuisance to them, despite being assured of the contrary. I also attempted to meet someone that I had heard many stories of, but had never met. For some odd reason, I had the unrealistic expectation that this person and I would have a conversation that would somehow delve into deep emotional and intellectual territory. Instead, we shared greetings and the fact that we had heard of the other one, and then parted ways. Overall, the night was fun, but afterwards I felt an intense amount of not-enoughness and loneliness. I simply couldn’t shake the feeling that I failed at connecting with others as much as I desired. Every interaction at the wedding was happy, yet contained no depth. The idea that I could go through life with no depth in my relationships dawned on me and truly terrified me.

            Around the same time, a marriage that was relatively close to me began to hit rocky territory due to infidelity. No details are necessary for me to express the true gravity of the situation and its impact on my heart, life, and relationships. After my stomach stopped hurting when hearing about this situation, I began to ponder its implications.  The first place my mind and heart went is to marriage as a metaphor for Christ and The Church. Yeah, yeah, I know... we have the story of Hosea. I know that we’re the ones who are unfaithful to Christ. But in light of my recent loneliness, I kept wondering if our broken marriages even have anything to do with our love affair with Christ. I don’t ever want to be abandoned or cheated on by someone with whom I’m so deeply connected. Have I closed myself off to Christ because I fear this intimacy? How can our relationship become more intimate, despite my fears that He could leave me at any moment. How do I trust His promises that He will never leave me, even though that seems to be the prevailing example in marriages that are falling apart around me?

            A close friend talked me through this struggle on the phone, and he said something extremely wise. He mentioned that our relationships are essentially a broken version of the perfect intimacy we will one day have with Christ. Could it be that my loneliness and these broken relationships are due to a longing for intimacy that can only become complete when we are united as one with Christ for eternity? Perhaps. During our conversation, the word “intimacy” kept popping up. I felt like that is what I desire in every relationship. I most certainly long for it in my relationship with God. He also said that my struggle with loneliness was interesting because he perceives one of my greatest strengths to be my ability to connect deeply with others. Perhaps Satan attempts to twist our greatest strengths into our most intense struggles. One of my goals for the near future is to call out Satan’s lies, and to proclaim God’s truth when I feel a lack of intimacy.

            All this talk of intimacy reminds me of the image in 1 Samuel 18:1 of David and Jonathan’s hearts being knit together. My heart longs to be knit together with not one, but many other hearts. As I enter into my time at Mission Year, I truly hope that I can connect intimately with those I’m living along with those I am loving in my community. I believe that God has called me to learn more about and work toward a fuller sense of intimacy throughout my Mission Year. I trust that Christ will show me more intimacy than I ever imagined both in our relationship and in my connection with others. On that note, I wonder how I can foster intimacy within my Mission Year family. Must intimacy be intentional? How does Christ’s view of intimacy differ from the world’s perception? When I revisit this blog post at the end of the year, I trust that I will have a greater perspective on intimacy along with even deeper questions to accompany this subject.

The Complexity of Humanity

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            It’s funny, because my primary activity this past month has been watching television shows and movies, neither of which will I be able to do during my Mission Year, and now I'm blogging about it. Part of this is because I'm going through AFI's 100 Years 100 Movies list, and part is because this happens to be the activity my family and I like to do together. Any of you who know me, however, know that I am frequently inspired thought-provoked (is that a thing?) by visual media. I would like to share with you some of my most recent thoughts, inspired by The Fault in Our Stars, Lawrence of Arabia, and Orange is the New Black.

            It all started while I was watching The Fault in Our Stars, having already read the book. Overall, I enjoyed the film, noting some artistic choices I would have made differently than the film’s creators. My interest in this story of two teenagers with cancer falling in love stemmed in part from my love of high school movies. I am truly moved by cinema that is set in a high school and treats its characters with respect and nuance, and recognizes that they are not all simple stereotypes. The Spectacular Now, Perks of Being A Wallflower, and Donnie Darko come to mind as other films with these types of three dimensional characters. The stories I am interested in are those in which the characters are not just stereotypes, as two high school teens with cancer could be, but ones that truly respect all aspects of their characters’ beings.

            This idea was only reinforced by watching Lawrence of Arabia, a classic that I thought would just be boring desert scenes where some handsomely heroic man would save a bunch of foreigners. Instead, the film began with the title character dying by veering off the road on a motorcycle, only to cut to the funeral where people were speaking to his heroism as well as his vanity and recklessness. Throughout the film, the audience sees the actual story of how his vanity and fearlessness combined to send him to Arabia to help people, only to descend into a madness of sorts. Each of these qualities represents a specific part of Lawrence’s being. The film could have labeled him a “hero,” “madman,” or several other technically accurate adjectives. Instead, the filmmakers chose to portray him as a multidimensional human being, as every person is.

            And now for Orange is the New Black. While I understand many people’s hesitation to watch the show due to its graphic sexual content and pervasive language (seriously though, it’s not for the easily offended), this show has created some of the most captivatingly complex characters (alliteration alert!) I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. No true heroes or villains are established, because each person is both in some way. Every inmate, guard, family member, and friend represented has the potential to exemplify many different parts of who they are. Even some of the primary villains have reasons for acting how they do, which makes them people the audience can more fully understand and even root for. Plus, most of the characters in the show are women in prison, so each of them has been caught for doing something illegal. But each of them has a story as to why they did what they did.

            Don’t each of us have more than one story that speaks to why we do the things we do? I wonder if we oftentimes choose to label people as one thing (e.g. She’s such a whore. He’s just a liar. They’re so lazy.), when they are actually made up of a plethora of stories and influences that contribute to many aspects their being. Perhaps our goal as humans should not be to label people, but instead to discover more about who they truly are (especially the good stuff). After all, even when we give people the same labels they give themselves, our own truths are not always as reliable as we think.

          During my time in the inner city, I hope to constantly remember that those I live with, my neighbors, and even my enemies have reasons for their actions. Good reasons. And that every person’s reasons seem valid to them, even if I don’t understand them. It’s been my goal for a while to learn to ask better questions. Many of the people in my life are great at modeling this attribute. I think that question-asking is one of the keys to understanding people’s motives and perspectives. And guess what. They may have more than one motive or perspective for the things they do! It’s our job to try to understand others, and realize that EVERY (all caps shouting provided for emphasis) person is multidimensional and valuable, even when we want to label them otherwise.

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