Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
9--Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game
I've written one blog about how one can get to the Land of Grace; in that blog, I described a long solo journey over an ocean with Jesus, where He is the only companion, truly the only "pillar" left standing. Although I think the ways to come to the Land of Grace are as varied as the many individual life stories present in the world, I do think I believe there must be some element of recognizing Jesus as the ONLY one, in all of them:
The ONLY one who knows everything in us.
The ONLY one who loves us unconditionally, in spite of knowing everything in us.
The ONLY one who actually has the power to save, heal, and forgive us.
The ONLY one who never runs out of patience or grace.
The ONLY one who is not stained with the corruption of this world, and therefore, the ONLY one who deserves our whole-hearted hope.
And so on.
I've envisioned other metaphorical journeys to the Land of Grace, both inspired by different verses in Isaiah. One journey is through a desert. In that case, just about everything is taken away from you and you finally cry out in desperation. This can be equated to colliding with a huge personal failure, with discovering that safe spots are no longer safe, with dealing with major struggles, etc. What does a desert look like? It looks like a vast barren landscape, with no comfort, no food, no place to hide, no trustworthy companion, no inspiration. Where does Jesus meet us in that moment?
He says, "The poor and needy search for water, but there is none; their tongues are parched with thirst. But I the Lord will answer them; I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs. I will put in the desert the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive. I will set pines in the wasteland, the fir and cypress together, so that people may see and know, may consider and understand, that the hand of the Lord has done this, that the Holy One of Israel has created it." (Isaiah 41:17-20)
In other words, after finding ourselves so wholly devoid of confidence, comfort, or companionship, we cry out for help-- and He promises to answer that prayer. Once we've acknowledged that we are wholly lost without Him, He tenderly provides water, springs, new life. He plants trees alongside each other that normally wouldn't be seen in close proximity, as an image of reconcilliation. He makes it BETTER-- and we know, at that point, He's the ONLY one that could have done so.
The other journey I pictured was out of the Shadowlands. In that image, I picture a person diving deeper and deeper into shadows to cover up his or her own sin. He shrouds himself in the death-cloak of the world, because the Light of Truth is too shattering. I imagine that person finally entering into total and utter darkness, lost, wandering, trapped, made blind in suffocating night. At that point, the Lord tells His people in the Land of Grace to go rescue the prisoner of darkness. He tells them,
"I will take hold of your hand. [I will make you a light] to open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison, and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness. ...I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth... All [of these people] are trapped in pits or hidden away in prisons. They have become plunder, with no one to rescue them; they have been made loot, with no one to say, 'Send them back.' Which of you will listen to this or pay close attention in time to come?" (Isaiah 42:6-7, 16, 22-23)
It's interesting isn't it? In that second chunk, I can't tell if God's giving more reassurances to the people trapped in darkness, or to His servants who He orders to go get them. Those Land of Gracers have work to do, that's becoming ever more obvious to me. I can tell you that, throughout the context of this whole passage in Isaiah, the adament theme is that God is the ONLY one who can accomplish this all. He scorns idols in that passage-- i.e. those people or things that we would look to deify and find safety in-- and repeats over and over that, not only does He love us and will protect us, but that He is the ONLY one with the power to save us.
What other journeys occur? You could probably tell me far better than I could tell you at this point, since our actual journeys are as varied as our DNA strands. Especially because I've come to the Land of Grace through a storm of turmoil, my envisioned journeys will generally be pictured as coming out of turmoil. I wonder if, in order to truly understand Grace, we must also understand what it means to feel trapped, what it means to be in Shadows, what it means to feel bereft of worldly safety. Like the song says, "The shadows prove the sunshine." Or, in the words of Annie Parsons, "Maybe the one who's been broken and healed is more graced than the one who's just well."
Still. I sure think it would be beautiful if we could arrive at the Land of Grace without scars.
On Thursday or Friday, in any case, I'll give you the layman's version of how it worked for me: getting from the Tower to the Land of Grace. I'll explain the actual circumstances, the actual thought process, the actual words from the journal. Next entry will be free of metaphor, I promise. Well... as much as it's possible for me to be free of metaphor. :)
In the meantime, I listened to this song today. It's incredible-- talks about the Towers, and the Shadowlands, and the Land of Grace all together. Listen to it and read the lyrics (in the video) with the analogy in mind.
May 18, 2011
Shadows in the Land of Grace: the Comparison Game
Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
On Sunday, I was in a funk to rival all funks.
I was GRUMPY, and SURLY, and feeling really LAME about myself. In my journal, I drew a hairy, biscuit-shaped creature, and then labeled it: "Me = Prickly ball of insecurity."
This is how I imagine this translating to the Land of Grace:
She wanders out of the light and into a shady grove. There, she catches the seductive glow of a glinting green pool. Mesmerized, she walks deeper into the darkness and stares into the mirrored water. Instantly, the pool comes alive with reflections, but these aren't reflections of the light-- these are reflections of her own fears and insecurities, made all the more vivid by the shadowy cover around her. Her thoughts leap into the pool and dance mockingly around the reflection of her face. She sees other people more successful than her; she sees other people LOOKING better than her. She sees people in love, she sees people attaining success, she sees people that are liked more than her. Her own reflection warps and mottles and she looks at it in horror, convinced this is what she has become.
Meanwhile, ivy snakes creep out of the dampened ground, taking advantage of the girl's distraction. They wind quietly around her ankles, up across her calves, sneaking over her torso and silently lash her down. Lost in herself, the girl has become trapped, losing the freedom she found in Grace.
This is what happens when we play the Comparison Game. The people I know who do the most good, who love others in profoundly meaningful ways, are people who are comfortable in their own skin. When we are not focused on ourselves, we are free to focus on others, and seek to promote their well-being.
When we're lost in the world of our insecurities? We are trapped, and immobilized. We recognize lies to be truth and beat ourselves over the heads with them. We accept darkness as our home, and begin to waste away beside the poison pool. Worst of all, we are too distracted to lift our gaze to the needs of others.
I know I haven't talked about this part yet, but the primary role for those who live in the Land of Grace is to love others WELL. That often means going into the Shadowlands, actually, and bringing light with them. That's another blog though.
The point is, however, if we lose ourselves in these shadowy places, we lose the freedom and lightness of joy that comes from loving others well.
I just read this passage a couple nights ago:
You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. The entire law is summed up in a single command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you keep on biting and devouring each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.
Gal. 5:13-15
We are called to be FREE, and in that freedom, we are called to serve each other in love. Pretty difficult to do if you're tied up in snaky vines, lost in a pool of self-absorption.
So how did I get out of that shadow grove? Let's get back to the real world.
Well, first I went to church. That was sort of like Jesus coming along and throwing a rock in the pool. The reflection shatters, and I look up startled.
"Hey! Remember me? Remember the light back there? Stop soaking yourself with lies, daughter."
And then-- God was so nice to do this-- the girl I happened to sit next to at church turned to me after the service and said, "Greta, right?"
Surprised, I said, "Yes!"
"I'm sure you don't remember me, but I was a freshman when you were the ministry intern at my college," she said. "You sang a song once about studying abroad, and it seriously changed my life." She started to get teary. "I ended up studying abroad and had a really bad experience, and I used to think of your song lyrics all the time. Just-- know that you are affecting lives for the Lord more than you could ever know."
I stared back at her with my jaw dropped. "Well, I've been in a grumpy funk all day, so right now God is using YOU to encourage ME!"
And that was sort of like Jesus taking my hand and YANKING me up out of those ivy snakes, snapping every one of them.
"Come back to light. Come back to grace," He says. "Remember who you are, what I've created you to do. Dance in freedom and love, and show my sons and daughters how much I love them."
One of the surest ways to keep yourselves OUT of the Land of Grace is the Comparison Game. When we compare ourselves to others, or when we compare the people we love to others, we will be disappointed. And how's this for irony? Most often, the people we're comparing ourselves or others TO are just as insecure and flawed as we are. Comparisons will almost always lead us to this poisoned pool. The longer we stay there, the more trapped we become-- we may even come close to drowning in our own lying reflection.
Getting back to Grace, I think, requires remembering Truth:
We have ALL fallen short.
NO ONE has it all together.
We are loved.
There is purpose in the trial you are undergoing.
God sees what we're going through, loves us in our mess, and is working to bring our lives towards what is good.
And if remembering all of that STILL fails to pull you out of your funk, sometimes I think forcing yourself to love someone else is a good way to snap yourself out of that poison pool. Because if you're looking to love someone else, your focus HAS to lift out of that pool right?
That's enough for now.
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
8-- Holy Scripture, Batman
On Sunday, I was in a funk to rival all funks.
I was GRUMPY, and SURLY, and feeling really LAME about myself. In my journal, I drew a hairy, biscuit-shaped creature, and then labeled it: "Me = Prickly ball of insecurity."
This is how I imagine this translating to the Land of Grace:
She wanders out of the light and into a shady grove. There, she catches the seductive glow of a glinting green pool. Mesmerized, she walks deeper into the darkness and stares into the mirrored water. Instantly, the pool comes alive with reflections, but these aren't reflections of the light-- these are reflections of her own fears and insecurities, made all the more vivid by the shadowy cover around her. Her thoughts leap into the pool and dance mockingly around the reflection of her face. She sees other people more successful than her; she sees other people LOOKING better than her. She sees people in love, she sees people attaining success, she sees people that are liked more than her. Her own reflection warps and mottles and she looks at it in horror, convinced this is what she has become.
Meanwhile, ivy snakes creep out of the dampened ground, taking advantage of the girl's distraction. They wind quietly around her ankles, up across her calves, sneaking over her torso and silently lash her down. Lost in herself, the girl has become trapped, losing the freedom she found in Grace.
This is what happens when we play the Comparison Game. The people I know who do the most good, who love others in profoundly meaningful ways, are people who are comfortable in their own skin. When we are not focused on ourselves, we are free to focus on others, and seek to promote their well-being.
When we're lost in the world of our insecurities? We are trapped, and immobilized. We recognize lies to be truth and beat ourselves over the heads with them. We accept darkness as our home, and begin to waste away beside the poison pool. Worst of all, we are too distracted to lift our gaze to the needs of others.
I know I haven't talked about this part yet, but the primary role for those who live in the Land of Grace is to love others WELL. That often means going into the Shadowlands, actually, and bringing light with them. That's another blog though.
The point is, however, if we lose ourselves in these shadowy places, we lose the freedom and lightness of joy that comes from loving others well.
I just read this passage a couple nights ago:
You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. The entire law is summed up in a single command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” If you keep on biting and devouring each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other.
Gal. 5:13-15
We are called to be FREE, and in that freedom, we are called to serve each other in love. Pretty difficult to do if you're tied up in snaky vines, lost in a pool of self-absorption.
So how did I get out of that shadow grove? Let's get back to the real world.
Well, first I went to church. That was sort of like Jesus coming along and throwing a rock in the pool. The reflection shatters, and I look up startled.
"Hey! Remember me? Remember the light back there? Stop soaking yourself with lies, daughter."
And then-- God was so nice to do this-- the girl I happened to sit next to at church turned to me after the service and said, "Greta, right?"
Surprised, I said, "Yes!"
"I'm sure you don't remember me, but I was a freshman when you were the ministry intern at my college," she said. "You sang a song once about studying abroad, and it seriously changed my life." She started to get teary. "I ended up studying abroad and had a really bad experience, and I used to think of your song lyrics all the time. Just-- know that you are affecting lives for the Lord more than you could ever know."
I stared back at her with my jaw dropped. "Well, I've been in a grumpy funk all day, so right now God is using YOU to encourage ME!"
And that was sort of like Jesus taking my hand and YANKING me up out of those ivy snakes, snapping every one of them.
"Come back to light. Come back to grace," He says. "Remember who you are, what I've created you to do. Dance in freedom and love, and show my sons and daughters how much I love them."
One of the surest ways to keep yourselves OUT of the Land of Grace is the Comparison Game. When we compare ourselves to others, or when we compare the people we love to others, we will be disappointed. And how's this for irony? Most often, the people we're comparing ourselves or others TO are just as insecure and flawed as we are. Comparisons will almost always lead us to this poisoned pool. The longer we stay there, the more trapped we become-- we may even come close to drowning in our own lying reflection.
Getting back to Grace, I think, requires remembering Truth:
We have ALL fallen short.
NO ONE has it all together.
We are loved.
There is purpose in the trial you are undergoing.
God sees what we're going through, loves us in our mess, and is working to bring our lives towards what is good.
And if remembering all of that STILL fails to pull you out of your funk, sometimes I think forcing yourself to love someone else is a good way to snap yourself out of that poison pool. Because if you're looking to love someone else, your focus HAS to lift out of that pool right?
That's enough for now.
May 10, 2011
Holy Scripture, Batman!
Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
I read my Bible at night, before falling asleep. This works well for two reasons:
1.) I'm reading my Bible, which is a good thing to do.
2.) Scripture's usually really good at putting me to sleep.
Except last night, it did not make me sleep. Last night, I was yelling at Carly while perched in my bed because the portion of Isaiah I was reading was ALL ABOUT TOWERS AND SHADOWLANDS AND FIELDS...!
Look look look:
Isaiah 28:11-13
"...God will speak to this people,
12 to whom he said,
'This is the resting place, let the weary rest';
and, 'This is the place of repose'—
but they would not listen.
13 So then, the word of the LORD to them will become:
Do and do, do and do,
rule on rule, rule on rule;
a little here, a little there—
so that they will go and fall backward,
be injured and snared and captured."
Those are the Towers! See? God WANTS us to find rest, but instead we distort the word of God into "do and do and do" and "rule on rule on rule." And what does that become? A PRISON. We are CAPTURED.
Oh don't worry, there's more. Isaiah goes on to say these people will feel impenetrable, they will feel secure in their "covenant with death"-- they will say, "when an overwhelming scourge sweeps by, it cannot touch us, for we have made a lie our refuge and falsehood our hiding place" (28:15). The Towers are supposed to make us feel safe, right? And they do. But IT'S A LIE. Isaiah tells those people, "When the overwhelming scourge sweeps by, you will be beaten down by it. As often as it comes it will carry you away... The understanding of this message will bring sheer terror. The bed is too short to stretch out on, the blanket too narrow to wrap around you" (18-20). Those are the Tower cells: blankets too narrow to shelter you from the agonies of this world; beds too short to offer lasting comfort. This world has a LIMIT. Isaiah says, "Stop your mocking, or your chains will become heavier" (22). Chains! See? It's a prison! We try to protect ourselves with rules, but it's a prison!
Later in chapter 29, Isaiah says, "These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men" (29:13).
Baaaaaaaaaah, it's not enough to obey the RULES-- the world is more complex than that!
Here's Isaiah discussing complexity in the Land of Grace:
" 23 Listen and hear my voice;
pay attention and hear what I say.
24 When a farmer plows for planting, does he plow continually?
Does he keep on breaking up and harrowing the soil?
25 When he has leveled the surface,
does he not sow caraway and scatter cummin?
Does he not plant wheat in its place,
barley in its plot,
and spelt in its field?
26 His God instructs him
and teaches him the right way."
In other words: formulas don't work in the fields. You can't always trust that plowing will be the right thing...! Sometimes you plow; sometimes you have to break up the soil; sometimes you have to sow. Some fields are right for wheat; some for barley; some for "spelt," whatever that is. How do we know what to do when, or what to PLANT when? We have to listen to instruction. It requires intimacy-- listening to the voice of the Shepherd. Isaiah continues:
"27 Caraway is not threshed with a sledge,
nor is a cartwheel rolled over cummin;
caraway is beaten out with a rod,
and cummin with a stick.
28 Grain must be ground to make bread;
so one does not go on threshing it forever.
Though he drives the wheels of his threshing cart over it,
his horses do not grind it.
29 All this also comes from the LORD Almighty,
wonderful in counsel and magnificent in wisdom."
Oh-- and what about the Shadowlands? Isaiah talks about that too!
"15 Woe to those who go to great depths
to hide their plans from the LORD,
who do their work in darkness and think,
'Who sees us? Who will know?'
16 You turn things upside down,
as if the potter were thought to be like the clay!
Shall what is formed say to him who formed it,
'He did not make me'?
Can the pot say of the potter,
'He knows nothing'?" (29:15-16)
The Shadowlands is the place where Truth is obscured-- where darkness is used to mask both sin and Truth. That's JUST what Isaiah talks about!
AND, people in the Shadowlands "say to the prophets,
'Give us no more visions of what is right! Tell us pleasant things, prophesy illusions. Leave this way, get off this path, and stop confronting us with the Holy One of Israel!'" (30:10-11). But in Galatians-- which is the chunk printed right after Isaiah in my One-Year-Bible (it's broken up weird), Paul pleads to the people in the Shadowlands, "Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods. But now that you know God-- or rather, are known by God-- how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again?" (Galatians 4:8-9).
In other words: the people in the Shadowlands are eager to avoid truth in favor of cheerful lies. That sets them up to worship gods that are not God-- but that worship is enslaving.
I bet you're thinking, "Wow Greta... you've just sliced and diced a LOT of scripture to conveniently work within your analogy." It's okay if you're thinking that. I thought that last night too. Then I read this:
"In the day of great slaughter, when the Towers fall, streams of water will flow on every high mountain and every lofty hill. The moon will shine like the sun, and the sunlight will be seven times brighter, like the light of seven full days, when the Lord binds up the bruises of his people and heals the wounds he inflicted" (30:25-26).
BAAAAAAAAAAH, "when the Towers fall"! And remember when I wrote, "...the Land of Grace is bathed in bright light... Even after the sun has set, the Land of Grace is blessed with a bright, full moon." And Isaiah talks about the "moon shining like the sun, and the sunlight will be seven times brighter"!!!
I mean... this is freak-out-worthy, right? I feel like Isaiah and I are on the same trippy wavelength.
Okay, that's all for now.
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
6-- When the Tower Crumbles: Getting to the Land of Grace
7-- A Disclaimer
I read my Bible at night, before falling asleep. This works well for two reasons:
1.) I'm reading my Bible, which is a good thing to do.
2.) Scripture's usually really good at putting me to sleep.
Except last night, it did not make me sleep. Last night, I was yelling at Carly while perched in my bed because the portion of Isaiah I was reading was ALL ABOUT TOWERS AND SHADOWLANDS AND FIELDS...!
Look look look:
Isaiah 28:11-13
"...God will speak to this people,
12 to whom he said,
'This is the resting place, let the weary rest';
and, 'This is the place of repose'—
but they would not listen.
13 So then, the word of the LORD to them will become:
Do and do, do and do,
rule on rule, rule on rule;
a little here, a little there—
so that they will go and fall backward,
be injured and snared and captured."
Those are the Towers! See? God WANTS us to find rest, but instead we distort the word of God into "do and do and do" and "rule on rule on rule." And what does that become? A PRISON. We are CAPTURED.
Oh don't worry, there's more. Isaiah goes on to say these people will feel impenetrable, they will feel secure in their "covenant with death"-- they will say, "when an overwhelming scourge sweeps by, it cannot touch us, for we have made a lie our refuge and falsehood our hiding place" (28:15). The Towers are supposed to make us feel safe, right? And they do. But IT'S A LIE. Isaiah tells those people, "When the overwhelming scourge sweeps by, you will be beaten down by it. As often as it comes it will carry you away... The understanding of this message will bring sheer terror. The bed is too short to stretch out on, the blanket too narrow to wrap around you" (18-20). Those are the Tower cells: blankets too narrow to shelter you from the agonies of this world; beds too short to offer lasting comfort. This world has a LIMIT. Isaiah says, "Stop your mocking, or your chains will become heavier" (22). Chains! See? It's a prison! We try to protect ourselves with rules, but it's a prison!
Later in chapter 29, Isaiah says, "These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men" (29:13).
Baaaaaaaaaah, it's not enough to obey the RULES-- the world is more complex than that!
Here's Isaiah discussing complexity in the Land of Grace:
" 23 Listen and hear my voice;
pay attention and hear what I say.
24 When a farmer plows for planting, does he plow continually?
Does he keep on breaking up and harrowing the soil?
25 When he has leveled the surface,
does he not sow caraway and scatter cummin?
Does he not plant wheat in its place,
barley in its plot,
and spelt in its field?
26 His God instructs him
and teaches him the right way."
In other words: formulas don't work in the fields. You can't always trust that plowing will be the right thing...! Sometimes you plow; sometimes you have to break up the soil; sometimes you have to sow. Some fields are right for wheat; some for barley; some for "spelt," whatever that is. How do we know what to do when, or what to PLANT when? We have to listen to instruction. It requires intimacy-- listening to the voice of the Shepherd. Isaiah continues:
"27 Caraway is not threshed with a sledge,
nor is a cartwheel rolled over cummin;
caraway is beaten out with a rod,
and cummin with a stick.
28 Grain must be ground to make bread;
so one does not go on threshing it forever.
Though he drives the wheels of his threshing cart over it,
his horses do not grind it.
29 All this also comes from the LORD Almighty,
wonderful in counsel and magnificent in wisdom."
Oh-- and what about the Shadowlands? Isaiah talks about that too!
"15 Woe to those who go to great depths
to hide their plans from the LORD,
who do their work in darkness and think,
'Who sees us? Who will know?'
16 You turn things upside down,
as if the potter were thought to be like the clay!
Shall what is formed say to him who formed it,
'He did not make me'?
Can the pot say of the potter,
'He knows nothing'?" (29:15-16)
The Shadowlands is the place where Truth is obscured-- where darkness is used to mask both sin and Truth. That's JUST what Isaiah talks about!
AND, people in the Shadowlands "say to the prophets,
'Give us no more visions of what is right! Tell us pleasant things, prophesy illusions. Leave this way, get off this path, and stop confronting us with the Holy One of Israel!'" (30:10-11). But in Galatians-- which is the chunk printed right after Isaiah in my One-Year-Bible (it's broken up weird), Paul pleads to the people in the Shadowlands, "Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods. But now that you know God-- or rather, are known by God-- how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again?" (Galatians 4:8-9).
In other words: the people in the Shadowlands are eager to avoid truth in favor of cheerful lies. That sets them up to worship gods that are not God-- but that worship is enslaving.
I bet you're thinking, "Wow Greta... you've just sliced and diced a LOT of scripture to conveniently work within your analogy." It's okay if you're thinking that. I thought that last night too. Then I read this:
"In the day of great slaughter, when the Towers fall, streams of water will flow on every high mountain and every lofty hill. The moon will shine like the sun, and the sunlight will be seven times brighter, like the light of seven full days, when the Lord binds up the bruises of his people and heals the wounds he inflicted" (30:25-26).
BAAAAAAAAAAH, "when the Towers fall"! And remember when I wrote, "...the Land of Grace is bathed in bright light... Even after the sun has set, the Land of Grace is blessed with a bright, full moon." And Isaiah talks about the "moon shining like the sun, and the sunlight will be seven times brighter"!!!
I mean... this is freak-out-worthy, right? I feel like Isaiah and I are on the same trippy wavelength.
Okay, that's all for now.
May 9, 2011
A Disclaimer
I would like to clarify some things.
1.) As much as I talk about the Land of Grace being HERE, and the Towers being THERE, and the Shadowlands being over THERE, and speak of them as though they were distant countries, the reality is that I can emotionally hop from one "land" to the next in a matter of seconds. I can sometimes even exist in all three at once. I say that I have "moved" into the Land of Grace, but the move is a slow process-- I find myself frequently back in the Towers, folding newspaper around one more mug, packing up one more box of books, stuffing one more sweater into one more suitcase for one more trip with the Uhaul. I might even bring bricks of the crumbled Towers with me into the Land of Grace, and stack them pointlessly in that open land, like a child might stack wooden blocks. And sometimes when I'm in the Land of Grace, I might quickly pull an umbrella over my head and darken Truth for a minute, wishing me back to the Shadowlands where Truth has been reduced to a mere whisper. I think it's possible that many of these lands overlap, bleeding into each other as fluidly as our emotions bleed into thoughts. I don't know if that's a good thing. But I think it happens.
2.) Also, have you noticed that, even as I deride the Towers for relying too heavily on formulas, there are a number of implied formulas all throughout this analogy?
3.) On that note, I feel the need to announce the fact that I am hypocritical far more often than I wish I was. In my "Casting Shadows" blog, I referred to the people in the Land of Grace as "we," including myself among them. Forehead smack. How often do I REALLY acknowledge my own shadow as I'm critically eyeing someone else's? I am outside the Land of Grace often. Learning still. Slowly.
4.) Furthermore, my very wise younger sister was recently telling me something that God was doing in her life, and I immediately tried to assess how that worked in terms of this analogy. She stopped me with a wry grin and said, "Nope. Don't even try. Not everything's going to fit into this analogy. God is WAY bigger than anything you or I could ever come up with." And I thought, Well. That is true.
5.) I know people in the "Shadowlands" who seem extremely content, free, peaceful, and happy. So that whole bit might be flawed too.
In essence, this analogy falls short in many, many ways, as any analogy must that tries to capture the ineffable essence of God and Christian spirituality. However, I have found this concept to be profoundly helpful in moving my heart to a place where it can more freely forgive and offer grace-- both to others, and myself. And as long as aspects of these "lands" continue to articulate themselves in my head, I think I'll continue to feel called to keep writing them out in some form.
Take them or leave them-- and please, let's all remember how incomprehensibly complex and rich our God truly is.
1.) As much as I talk about the Land of Grace being HERE, and the Towers being THERE, and the Shadowlands being over THERE, and speak of them as though they were distant countries, the reality is that I can emotionally hop from one "land" to the next in a matter of seconds. I can sometimes even exist in all three at once. I say that I have "moved" into the Land of Grace, but the move is a slow process-- I find myself frequently back in the Towers, folding newspaper around one more mug, packing up one more box of books, stuffing one more sweater into one more suitcase for one more trip with the Uhaul. I might even bring bricks of the crumbled Towers with me into the Land of Grace, and stack them pointlessly in that open land, like a child might stack wooden blocks. And sometimes when I'm in the Land of Grace, I might quickly pull an umbrella over my head and darken Truth for a minute, wishing me back to the Shadowlands where Truth has been reduced to a mere whisper. I think it's possible that many of these lands overlap, bleeding into each other as fluidly as our emotions bleed into thoughts. I don't know if that's a good thing. But I think it happens.
2.) Also, have you noticed that, even as I deride the Towers for relying too heavily on formulas, there are a number of implied formulas all throughout this analogy?
3.) On that note, I feel the need to announce the fact that I am hypocritical far more often than I wish I was. In my "Casting Shadows" blog, I referred to the people in the Land of Grace as "we," including myself among them. Forehead smack. How often do I REALLY acknowledge my own shadow as I'm critically eyeing someone else's? I am outside the Land of Grace often. Learning still. Slowly.
4.) Furthermore, my very wise younger sister was recently telling me something that God was doing in her life, and I immediately tried to assess how that worked in terms of this analogy. She stopped me with a wry grin and said, "Nope. Don't even try. Not everything's going to fit into this analogy. God is WAY bigger than anything you or I could ever come up with." And I thought, Well. That is true.
5.) I know people in the "Shadowlands" who seem extremely content, free, peaceful, and happy. So that whole bit might be flawed too.
In essence, this analogy falls short in many, many ways, as any analogy must that tries to capture the ineffable essence of God and Christian spirituality. However, I have found this concept to be profoundly helpful in moving my heart to a place where it can more freely forgive and offer grace-- both to others, and myself. And as long as aspects of these "lands" continue to articulate themselves in my head, I think I'll continue to feel called to keep writing them out in some form.
Take them or leave them-- and please, let's all remember how incomprehensibly complex and rich our God truly is.
May 6, 2011
When the Tower Crumbles: getting to the Land of Grace
Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
Guys, my heart is so heavy today.
This week has been a deluge of tragedies in the lives of people I care about. My students, some of my dearest friends, my core group girls-- favorite people all around me are being crushed by tragedy and disappointment.
This morning, while praying, I started to cry in grief and frustration. "Would you DO something God? Could you be miraculous? Could you be radiant somehow? Could you fricking HELP?"
I tried to suggest that I take over for Him for a while. "I need words of encouragement Lord. Give me pictures to offer them. Give me words of hope." I thought about what I would be doing if I had the power of God. Certainly, I thought, I'd be doing more than HE is right now. "You'd better give me words of comfort, Lord," I told Him, "Because my people NEED comfort." Though I didn't outright accuse God of slacking on the comfort-provision job, we both know I was implying it.
The only response I got from God was stern. "That is not your job. I am their comfort."
I sighed hard in frustration and sadness, and even though I didn't want to release the burden of this responsibility, it slipped off my shoulders anyway.
There is a problem with the Land of Grace. The Land of Grace is not immune to inclement weather. Crap happens, even in the Land of Grace, because as long as we are on this earth, crap will HAPPEN. The Land of Grace is not heaven, it is not Disneyland, it is not immune. It is a place of freedom, yes, of truth, yes. Jesus, the "good shepherd," is ever present in the Land of Grace, and He is a pro at helping us out of our pits. But it is also a place of great complexity, and it is not immune to tragedy.
When talking with one of my students yesterday about the huge grief and disillusionment he was experiencing, he said, "I feel like everything I've ever trusted in and believed in is crumbling down around me. I don't know what to think or believe right now."
I thought:
"Real Life Tower Crumblers:
-----> Anyone who's ever had an expectation of God that He didn't meet.
-----> Anyone who's ever experienced a tragedy that seems senseless.
-----> Anyone who's ever been massively disappointed by someone they trusted and believed in.
-----> Anyone whose formulas for success have failed.
-----> Me."
And I looked at my student, and I thought, "Him too."
When our pillars of certainty fall, when our towers of black and white crumble, what do we do? Where is God in that moment?
In my blog about "Getting out of the Towers" (linked above), I wrote, "It's only a matter of time before the Tower topples, leading these poor people searching for certainty, searching for Truth, desperate for protection. It's terrifying when a Tower crumbles... but probably the best thing that could ever happen to a Tower-clinger in the long run."
This morning, with tragedy in my face, attached to names that I love, that hypothesis was ruthlessly challenged. When life falls apart, IS it truly the best thing that could happen to a "Tower-clinger"? How dare I suggest that this sort of tragedy could actually be beneficial? And what about people that got out of the Towers a long time ago? What about people that are doing their best to live in the Land of Grace, but keep getting pushed into pits by elements outside of their control?
Let me be clear: I don't think that tragedy like my friends are experiencing is always beneficial. I think a lot of crap happens in this world that God doesn't have a hand in, and I think it grieves Him just as much as it does me. I do believe-- reluctantly-- that God must allow any circumstance to occur because I believe He is all-powerful. And I do believe that God can work good from all circumstances, because I've seen that truth play out in my life again and again.
Still. Sometimes He's a lot slower in bringing good about than I wish He was.
This was the picture that came into my head this morning:
I pictured a Tower falling, as catastrophic as 9/11. I pictured a weeping someone, standing amidst the wreckage, overwhelmed with the brokenness around them. I pictured the someone feeling vulnerable, afraid, clueless as to where to go next.
The setting clarified itself: the debris, and the someone stood on a stormy beach. Waves roared, the sky thundered. Jesus emerged on the shore with a boat and an extended hand. He looked deep at the someone and without speaking, asked: "Come with me."
This, I think, is maybe the most crucial decision any of us will ever make. Do we stare hard back at Him, and opt for the Shadowlands instead? Do we decide, at that point, we've had entirely enough of HIM, and we'd rather take our chances on our own? Do we determine He isn't trustworthy, hasn't proved Himself trustworthy?
Or is it worth the risk to get in the boat? Is it worth taking that one last chance-- of trading chaos for a small vessel sailing out into a sea of ambiguity, captained only by a man who promises love and saving, no matter what?
In my picture, the someone sighed deeply, looked hard at Jesus, and stepped into the boat, leaving the wreckage on the shore. Slowly, slowly, I watched the waves begin to coax the debris into the ocean. Slowly, slowly I saw the beach begin to clear.
In the boat then, sailing further and further into a vast nebulous sea where there is nothing to cling to except the Lord at the helm, the someone sits and weeps and watches the waves. And because there is NOTHING except the Lord, the someone learns His voice well, because it is the only voice. And because there is NO ONE except the Lord, the someone learns to love Him and trust Him as one could only love and trust their sole companion. In that sea of questions, the only sure thing is His presence.
I think getting to the Land of Grace requires the crossing of this ambiguous ocean.
Because when the chaos descend-- and they WILL descend, even in the Land of Grace-- the ONLY way I see survival occurring is by returning to that only Lord. How can we love, if we don't know the Voice of Love? How can we trust, if we are not clinging to the Lord of Saving? When we find ourselves falling into a gaping maw of shattered earth, how can we climb out, unless we reach for the only arms strong enough to pull us out?
I am frustrated with my Lord today. And yet, as I cried in frustration during prayer this morning, I pictured myself clinging to His legs and begging for His help.
Even in the moments I would fight Him, I need Him.
I cannot be my friend's source of comfort, because I am not enough. I must go to Him for comfort, and pray they do the same. Grace, perhaps, is allowing Him to be powerful, and ourselves to be powerless.
Lord, help. You're needed.
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands
5-- The Land of Grace: Casting Shadows
Guys, my heart is so heavy today.
This week has been a deluge of tragedies in the lives of people I care about. My students, some of my dearest friends, my core group girls-- favorite people all around me are being crushed by tragedy and disappointment.
This morning, while praying, I started to cry in grief and frustration. "Would you DO something God? Could you be miraculous? Could you be radiant somehow? Could you fricking HELP?"
I tried to suggest that I take over for Him for a while. "I need words of encouragement Lord. Give me pictures to offer them. Give me words of hope." I thought about what I would be doing if I had the power of God. Certainly, I thought, I'd be doing more than HE is right now. "You'd better give me words of comfort, Lord," I told Him, "Because my people NEED comfort." Though I didn't outright accuse God of slacking on the comfort-provision job, we both know I was implying it.
The only response I got from God was stern. "That is not your job. I am their comfort."
I sighed hard in frustration and sadness, and even though I didn't want to release the burden of this responsibility, it slipped off my shoulders anyway.
There is a problem with the Land of Grace. The Land of Grace is not immune to inclement weather. Crap happens, even in the Land of Grace, because as long as we are on this earth, crap will HAPPEN. The Land of Grace is not heaven, it is not Disneyland, it is not immune. It is a place of freedom, yes, of truth, yes. Jesus, the "good shepherd," is ever present in the Land of Grace, and He is a pro at helping us out of our pits. But it is also a place of great complexity, and it is not immune to tragedy.
When talking with one of my students yesterday about the huge grief and disillusionment he was experiencing, he said, "I feel like everything I've ever trusted in and believed in is crumbling down around me. I don't know what to think or believe right now."
I thought:
"Real Life Tower Crumblers:
-----> Anyone who's ever had an expectation of God that He didn't meet.
-----> Anyone who's ever experienced a tragedy that seems senseless.
-----> Anyone who's ever been massively disappointed by someone they trusted and believed in.
-----> Anyone whose formulas for success have failed.
-----> Me."
And I looked at my student, and I thought, "Him too."
When our pillars of certainty fall, when our towers of black and white crumble, what do we do? Where is God in that moment?
In my blog about "Getting out of the Towers" (linked above), I wrote, "It's only a matter of time before the Tower topples, leading these poor people searching for certainty, searching for Truth, desperate for protection. It's terrifying when a Tower crumbles... but probably the best thing that could ever happen to a Tower-clinger in the long run."
This morning, with tragedy in my face, attached to names that I love, that hypothesis was ruthlessly challenged. When life falls apart, IS it truly the best thing that could happen to a "Tower-clinger"? How dare I suggest that this sort of tragedy could actually be beneficial? And what about people that got out of the Towers a long time ago? What about people that are doing their best to live in the Land of Grace, but keep getting pushed into pits by elements outside of their control?
Let me be clear: I don't think that tragedy like my friends are experiencing is always beneficial. I think a lot of crap happens in this world that God doesn't have a hand in, and I think it grieves Him just as much as it does me. I do believe-- reluctantly-- that God must allow any circumstance to occur because I believe He is all-powerful. And I do believe that God can work good from all circumstances, because I've seen that truth play out in my life again and again.
Still. Sometimes He's a lot slower in bringing good about than I wish He was.
This was the picture that came into my head this morning:
I pictured a Tower falling, as catastrophic as 9/11. I pictured a weeping someone, standing amidst the wreckage, overwhelmed with the brokenness around them. I pictured the someone feeling vulnerable, afraid, clueless as to where to go next.
The setting clarified itself: the debris, and the someone stood on a stormy beach. Waves roared, the sky thundered. Jesus emerged on the shore with a boat and an extended hand. He looked deep at the someone and without speaking, asked: "Come with me."
This, I think, is maybe the most crucial decision any of us will ever make. Do we stare hard back at Him, and opt for the Shadowlands instead? Do we decide, at that point, we've had entirely enough of HIM, and we'd rather take our chances on our own? Do we determine He isn't trustworthy, hasn't proved Himself trustworthy?
Or is it worth the risk to get in the boat? Is it worth taking that one last chance-- of trading chaos for a small vessel sailing out into a sea of ambiguity, captained only by a man who promises love and saving, no matter what?
In my picture, the someone sighed deeply, looked hard at Jesus, and stepped into the boat, leaving the wreckage on the shore. Slowly, slowly, I watched the waves begin to coax the debris into the ocean. Slowly, slowly I saw the beach begin to clear.
In the boat then, sailing further and further into a vast nebulous sea where there is nothing to cling to except the Lord at the helm, the someone sits and weeps and watches the waves. And because there is NOTHING except the Lord, the someone learns His voice well, because it is the only voice. And because there is NO ONE except the Lord, the someone learns to love Him and trust Him as one could only love and trust their sole companion. In that sea of questions, the only sure thing is His presence.
I think getting to the Land of Grace requires the crossing of this ambiguous ocean.
Because when the chaos descend-- and they WILL descend, even in the Land of Grace-- the ONLY way I see survival occurring is by returning to that only Lord. How can we love, if we don't know the Voice of Love? How can we trust, if we are not clinging to the Lord of Saving? When we find ourselves falling into a gaping maw of shattered earth, how can we climb out, unless we reach for the only arms strong enough to pull us out?
I am frustrated with my Lord today. And yet, as I cried in frustration during prayer this morning, I pictured myself clinging to His legs and begging for His help.
Even in the moments I would fight Him, I need Him.
I cannot be my friend's source of comfort, because I am not enough. I must go to Him for comfort, and pray they do the same. Grace, perhaps, is allowing Him to be powerful, and ourselves to be powerless.
Lord, help. You're needed.
Apr 26, 2011
The Land of Grace: casting shadows
Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands :
This blog is going to be a harder one to write because as I've said, I'm still new here. I still haven't fully explored my way around the Land of Grace yet, but I want to write this blog before I start getting into the details of how one gets in and how one gets out.
So, I'll just tell you what I can see from here.
First off, the Land of Grace is bathed in bright light-- the prettiest kind of light you only see early in the morning or late in the afternoon. Even after the sun has set, the Land of Grace is blessed with a bright, full moon. Because of this bright light-- which I'm going to identify as Truth-- everyone has clearly cast shadows. Shadows symbolize our sin, our errors, our mistakes. In the Land of Grace, they're razor clear, outlined on the ground and everyone has them. As opposed to the Shadowlands, where shadows disappear because the whole world is darkened, people cannot hide their shadows in the Land of Grace.
And that's okay.
Because in the Land of Grace, you're always forgiven.
It's funny, because we ALL have shadows, but no one else likes admitting it. In the Shadowlands, people try to say that shadows don't exist at all, which is why everyone likes the dark so much-- no one can see the shadows, or if they can, they agree that the world is dark enough it doesn't much matter. In the Valley of the Towers, they admit that people make shadows, and they're quick to point out that people who DON'T live in the Towers cast LOOOONG shadows. So the Tower people try to avoid making shadows at all by never going outside. They stay in their rooms and follow the rules and say through clenched teeth, "I don't have a shadow at all because I am a good Tower person!" The problem is, they still DO have shadows in the Towers-- the fluorescent bulbs reveal the sneaky shadows made by the Tower people, as much as they try to deny having shadows at all.
So even though it's surprising that shadows would emerge in the starkest clarity in the Land of Grace, it makes sense in a way. The light exposes what's true: we cast shadows. We will for as long as we're on this planet.
But I love this place, because in the Land of Grace, people are over shame. By entering this land, we chose to step into the bright light, and what greets us? Jesus, sporting a great big grin and offering us a rope and set of carabiners. He knows we'll fall into a pit before we've even fallen into a pit, and He laughs a belly laugh and says, "Here! You'll need these later. Don't worry, I'll show you how to use them. WELCOME child! Look at how beautiful you are in this Truth Light!"
And He means that too-- He really thinks we look best that way.
Who else is there? A whole bunch of other people who have shadows. They're grinning too-- it's because we're all loopy over feeling so free and so loved. Our first goal is to make the new person feel okay about casting a shadow. So we burble over and try to reassure newbie: "Don't worry, it feels strange at first but see? We've all got 'em! No one will try to make you feel bad about that here, because we're all flaunting shadows darling! And He loves us anyway, isn't that grand? Haha! He LOVES us anyway! And we like each other an awful lot. We're all flecked and flawed and, ha! Forgiven! And loved!" I sort of picture this particular Grace-person as my favorite elementary school teacher, who's probably a stout old biddy by now. "Now try moving--" the Grace person instructs. "You feel lighter don't you? Once Truth hits, it DRAINS the heavy darkness right out! True, you've got some work to do to deal with the shape you cast-- oh, but the poison of that darkness is gone. You're LIGHT now-- you're free. You can run if you want! Try it-- run!"
It's still not a great thing to have shadows-- in the Land of Grace, part of the dance is learning how to shrink the darkness you cast. But still: the shadows have no weight in the Land of Grace. In the Shadowlands, maybe, the shadows swallow us and squeeze the Truth away. In the Towers, maybe, the fear of those shadows rises up on the walls in myriad ghoulish shapes, and haunts us with their horrifying potential.
But in the Land of Grace, they're on the ground where they should be. They're a trace of you; they don't define you. They don't determine you. They're simply there. And you know the coolest trick Jesus does? When you ask Him, He gets so big and so bright that not a single shadow remains where you stand. He makes the shadows disappear-- and He does that cool trick as often as you ask Him to.
I was going to write more about the Land of Grace but that's enough for now.
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
4-- The Shadowlands :
This blog is going to be a harder one to write because as I've said, I'm still new here. I still haven't fully explored my way around the Land of Grace yet, but I want to write this blog before I start getting into the details of how one gets in and how one gets out.
So, I'll just tell you what I can see from here.
First off, the Land of Grace is bathed in bright light-- the prettiest kind of light you only see early in the morning or late in the afternoon. Even after the sun has set, the Land of Grace is blessed with a bright, full moon. Because of this bright light-- which I'm going to identify as Truth-- everyone has clearly cast shadows. Shadows symbolize our sin, our errors, our mistakes. In the Land of Grace, they're razor clear, outlined on the ground and everyone has them. As opposed to the Shadowlands, where shadows disappear because the whole world is darkened, people cannot hide their shadows in the Land of Grace.
And that's okay.
Because in the Land of Grace, you're always forgiven.
It's funny, because we ALL have shadows, but no one else likes admitting it. In the Shadowlands, people try to say that shadows don't exist at all, which is why everyone likes the dark so much-- no one can see the shadows, or if they can, they agree that the world is dark enough it doesn't much matter. In the Valley of the Towers, they admit that people make shadows, and they're quick to point out that people who DON'T live in the Towers cast LOOOONG shadows. So the Tower people try to avoid making shadows at all by never going outside. They stay in their rooms and follow the rules and say through clenched teeth, "I don't have a shadow at all because I am a good Tower person!" The problem is, they still DO have shadows in the Towers-- the fluorescent bulbs reveal the sneaky shadows made by the Tower people, as much as they try to deny having shadows at all.
So even though it's surprising that shadows would emerge in the starkest clarity in the Land of Grace, it makes sense in a way. The light exposes what's true: we cast shadows. We will for as long as we're on this planet.
But I love this place, because in the Land of Grace, people are over shame. By entering this land, we chose to step into the bright light, and what greets us? Jesus, sporting a great big grin and offering us a rope and set of carabiners. He knows we'll fall into a pit before we've even fallen into a pit, and He laughs a belly laugh and says, "Here! You'll need these later. Don't worry, I'll show you how to use them. WELCOME child! Look at how beautiful you are in this Truth Light!"
And He means that too-- He really thinks we look best that way.
Who else is there? A whole bunch of other people who have shadows. They're grinning too-- it's because we're all loopy over feeling so free and so loved. Our first goal is to make the new person feel okay about casting a shadow. So we burble over and try to reassure newbie: "Don't worry, it feels strange at first but see? We've all got 'em! No one will try to make you feel bad about that here, because we're all flaunting shadows darling! And He loves us anyway, isn't that grand? Haha! He LOVES us anyway! And we like each other an awful lot. We're all flecked and flawed and, ha! Forgiven! And loved!" I sort of picture this particular Grace-person as my favorite elementary school teacher, who's probably a stout old biddy by now. "Now try moving--" the Grace person instructs. "You feel lighter don't you? Once Truth hits, it DRAINS the heavy darkness right out! True, you've got some work to do to deal with the shape you cast-- oh, but the poison of that darkness is gone. You're LIGHT now-- you're free. You can run if you want! Try it-- run!"
It's still not a great thing to have shadows-- in the Land of Grace, part of the dance is learning how to shrink the darkness you cast. But still: the shadows have no weight in the Land of Grace. In the Shadowlands, maybe, the shadows swallow us and squeeze the Truth away. In the Towers, maybe, the fear of those shadows rises up on the walls in myriad ghoulish shapes, and haunts us with their horrifying potential.
But in the Land of Grace, they're on the ground where they should be. They're a trace of you; they don't define you. They don't determine you. They're simply there. And you know the coolest trick Jesus does? When you ask Him, He gets so big and so bright that not a single shadow remains where you stand. He makes the shadows disappear-- and He does that cool trick as often as you ask Him to.
I was going to write more about the Land of Grace but that's enough for now.
Apr 20, 2011
The Shadowlands
Previous blogs in this series:
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
I'll admit, "The Shadowlands" is an ominous title for a place that many consider pretty great. But the Shadowlands is decisively what this place is called.
We know about the Valley of the Towers, and I've talked about the Fields of Grace. The Towers, remember, house people who adhere to rules, laws, and formulas with dogmatic zeal-- they're all about the black and white. Tower dwellers are good people, and I believe they are living the best way they know how-- but their lives are defined by boundaries and they're liable to look down on others for wrong-doing. The Fields of Grace, conversely, is a place of wide open freedom and ever-present love, distinguished most ostensibly by the constant presence of Christ, i.e. Jesus, i.e. the pit-helper-outer.
So where do the Shadowlands fit in?
Well, the Shadowlands is where everyone else lives.
Here are the nice features of the Shadowlands:
Anything goes. People in the Shadowlands are highly impatient with Tower-mentality; they find that sort of thinking stringent, archaic, and frankly, obnoxious. "Oh, those Tower dwellers," the Shadowlands people might say, rolling their eyes. "They sit in their lofty perches and look down on everyone here. Let them stay locked up in their towers-- so long as they stay away from ME." Outside the many entrances into The Shadowlands are giant signs, bidding you, "Welcome! Everyone! We are only intolerant of intolerance!"
And for those people who have escaped from the Towers and are looking for acceptance-- what a WELCOME message that is.
That's why, in fact, those in the Shadowlands embrace their country's title: in the Shadowlands, there is no black and white. There are only variant shades of gray, of shadow. And as with shadows, the "lines"-- what we might consider one's sense of right and wrong-- are blurred. The shadow lines that ARE visible can easily alter with the sun's movement in the sky-- or, more literally speaking, with the rapidly varying trends in any given culture. The Shadowlands, for that reason, are very cool.
Like the Fields of Grace, the Shadowlands offer wide open spaces, and many different cultures. You've got hippies musically extolling the values of peace and harmony, reveling in freedom by enjoying "free love" and drug use. You've got the Buddhists, warmly offering you a meditation room. There are sororities and fraternities and gangs, all offering you a place to belong and find community. You've got warlords who revel in their power by raping, murdering, and killing to their hearts' content. There are the Nihilists partying with the Hedonists, and the Utilitarians paving the roads. Plenty of business CEOs lounge in their NEW towers, which-- ha!-- stand far higher than the gray buildings in the Valley of Towers. There are thieves and murderers and heroes and poets. And of course, there are plenty of every-day people: milling about, falling in love, breaking hearts, making money, losing money, searching for a purpose, for fulfillment, for meaning, and generally: getting along.
All the while, the habitants of the Shadowlands enjoy the darkened sky. Even if they leave a trail of darkness when they walk: the dim light makes that darkness invisible. There is no condemnation in these Shadowlands.
Now: do you SEE why a Tower escapee might find this kind of Shadow-dwelling appealing?
I sure do.
This is the problem with the Shadowlands though: there are swamps.
There are a LOT of hidden swamps.
We could consider the swamps as being representative of addictions, or as the icky feeling that comes when something that we THOUGHT would fulfill us leaves us feeling empty. Let me give you some examples:
The hippy that felt so restful extending peace and love to all, finds that she can't kick her coke habit. Or maybe, her boyfriend abandons her and she's not interested in free love with anyone else. Suddenly she's heart-broken and finds herself in a swamp. She's trapped; she doesn't feel free at all.
The fraternity guy is sick of being known as the crazy-drunk but can't figure out how to climb out of that identity. He feels stuck and depressed; he's in a swamp.
The warlord shuts down his human compassion and stokes the fires of his brutality, his violence, the evil within. He sinks deeper and deeper into a swamp every day. But no one can condemn him-- remember: condemnation has no place here.
The business CEOs see their faces on the cover of "Forbes," but still feel dissatisfied, they have EVERYTHING, but they have yet to feel fulfillment. They're supposed to perch in a high-rise; instead, they find themselves in a swamp.
The Nihilist does what he can to pretend his mother's death doesn't phase him, but he feels grief anyway. His philosophy is challenged when he realizes how much he longs for something to hope in. His confusion permeates; he's landed in a swamp.
Even the average girl-- her dad betrays her; the love of her life breaks up with her; she feels depressed and doesn't know why; she doesn't know her purpose in life-- she feels lonely and hurt and confused, and these are swamps.
You see, everyone in the Shadowlands is searching to fill their empty places. We all have them-- the empty places. As John Mayer sings, "Something's missing/ and I don't know how to fix it." We feel loneliness, a hunger for meaning, we long to be known and to be loved anyway. So we look to fill the empty places. And we find gods to fill them with.
The Shadowlands offer up any number of gods: "Try money!" "Try sex!" "Try love!" "Try philosophy!" "Try narcissism!" "Try work!" John Mayer sings about this in the same song I just referenced. He's got it all: "Friends, check/ money, check/ well slept, check/ opposite sex, check." Still, he concludes: "Something's missing." The first lyrics in the song imply that he's incredibly lonely, even though he's "not alone." We offer these gods our time, energy, talents, worship-- yet we still discover empty places.
The gods crack at some point. Maybe they work for a while, but ultimately, something happens that WOUNDS us, that leaves us broken, that leaves us disappointed, that leaves us hurting and once more searching for truth.
For that Shadow-dweller, the variant shades of gray start to be more frustrating than they are reassuring. What is trust-worthy? What is good? What is fulfilling? Is there ANY reliable answer? Surely not EVERYTHING can be true-- the doctrine of peace and love is at odds with the doctrine of selfish gain; the doctrine of the pursuit of pleasure is at odds with the doctrine of the common good. What on earth is TRUTH?
The Shadow-dwellers, once so disgusted with the absolutes of the Towers, find themselves similarly disenchanted with the vague offerings of the Shadowlands. And what's more: they're stuck. They're hurt. And no one seems wise enough, strong enough, or trust-worthy enough to help them or heal them.
I heard someone say once, "The gospel starts when we realize that something's wrong."
Jesus isn't NECESSARY until we realize that something is wrong.
I feel empty.
I feel dissatisfied.
I am sickened by the evil in this world.
Love let me down; the one I thought would fulfill me couldn't.
My family let me down; they couldn't keep me safe.
I feel ashamed.
Something is WRONG.
And the truest thing I know is that we need something good and strong and forgiving to save us.
1-- Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
2-- ... Thoughts on Sheep
3-- Getting out of the Towers
I'll admit, "The Shadowlands" is an ominous title for a place that many consider pretty great. But the Shadowlands is decisively what this place is called.
We know about the Valley of the Towers, and I've talked about the Fields of Grace. The Towers, remember, house people who adhere to rules, laws, and formulas with dogmatic zeal-- they're all about the black and white. Tower dwellers are good people, and I believe they are living the best way they know how-- but their lives are defined by boundaries and they're liable to look down on others for wrong-doing. The Fields of Grace, conversely, is a place of wide open freedom and ever-present love, distinguished most ostensibly by the constant presence of Christ, i.e. Jesus, i.e. the pit-helper-outer.
So where do the Shadowlands fit in?
Well, the Shadowlands is where everyone else lives.
Here are the nice features of the Shadowlands:
Anything goes. People in the Shadowlands are highly impatient with Tower-mentality; they find that sort of thinking stringent, archaic, and frankly, obnoxious. "Oh, those Tower dwellers," the Shadowlands people might say, rolling their eyes. "They sit in their lofty perches and look down on everyone here. Let them stay locked up in their towers-- so long as they stay away from ME." Outside the many entrances into The Shadowlands are giant signs, bidding you, "Welcome! Everyone! We are only intolerant of intolerance!"
And for those people who have escaped from the Towers and are looking for acceptance-- what a WELCOME message that is.
That's why, in fact, those in the Shadowlands embrace their country's title: in the Shadowlands, there is no black and white. There are only variant shades of gray, of shadow. And as with shadows, the "lines"-- what we might consider one's sense of right and wrong-- are blurred. The shadow lines that ARE visible can easily alter with the sun's movement in the sky-- or, more literally speaking, with the rapidly varying trends in any given culture. The Shadowlands, for that reason, are very cool.
Like the Fields of Grace, the Shadowlands offer wide open spaces, and many different cultures. You've got hippies musically extolling the values of peace and harmony, reveling in freedom by enjoying "free love" and drug use. You've got the Buddhists, warmly offering you a meditation room. There are sororities and fraternities and gangs, all offering you a place to belong and find community. You've got warlords who revel in their power by raping, murdering, and killing to their hearts' content. There are the Nihilists partying with the Hedonists, and the Utilitarians paving the roads. Plenty of business CEOs lounge in their NEW towers, which-- ha!-- stand far higher than the gray buildings in the Valley of Towers. There are thieves and murderers and heroes and poets. And of course, there are plenty of every-day people: milling about, falling in love, breaking hearts, making money, losing money, searching for a purpose, for fulfillment, for meaning, and generally: getting along.
All the while, the habitants of the Shadowlands enjoy the darkened sky. Even if they leave a trail of darkness when they walk: the dim light makes that darkness invisible. There is no condemnation in these Shadowlands.
Now: do you SEE why a Tower escapee might find this kind of Shadow-dwelling appealing?
I sure do.
This is the problem with the Shadowlands though: there are swamps.
There are a LOT of hidden swamps.
We could consider the swamps as being representative of addictions, or as the icky feeling that comes when something that we THOUGHT would fulfill us leaves us feeling empty. Let me give you some examples:
The hippy that felt so restful extending peace and love to all, finds that she can't kick her coke habit. Or maybe, her boyfriend abandons her and she's not interested in free love with anyone else. Suddenly she's heart-broken and finds herself in a swamp. She's trapped; she doesn't feel free at all.
The fraternity guy is sick of being known as the crazy-drunk but can't figure out how to climb out of that identity. He feels stuck and depressed; he's in a swamp.
The warlord shuts down his human compassion and stokes the fires of his brutality, his violence, the evil within. He sinks deeper and deeper into a swamp every day. But no one can condemn him-- remember: condemnation has no place here.
The business CEOs see their faces on the cover of "Forbes," but still feel dissatisfied, they have EVERYTHING, but they have yet to feel fulfillment. They're supposed to perch in a high-rise; instead, they find themselves in a swamp.
The Nihilist does what he can to pretend his mother's death doesn't phase him, but he feels grief anyway. His philosophy is challenged when he realizes how much he longs for something to hope in. His confusion permeates; he's landed in a swamp.
Even the average girl-- her dad betrays her; the love of her life breaks up with her; she feels depressed and doesn't know why; she doesn't know her purpose in life-- she feels lonely and hurt and confused, and these are swamps.
You see, everyone in the Shadowlands is searching to fill their empty places. We all have them-- the empty places. As John Mayer sings, "Something's missing/ and I don't know how to fix it." We feel loneliness, a hunger for meaning, we long to be known and to be loved anyway. So we look to fill the empty places. And we find gods to fill them with.
The Shadowlands offer up any number of gods: "Try money!" "Try sex!" "Try love!" "Try philosophy!" "Try narcissism!" "Try work!" John Mayer sings about this in the same song I just referenced. He's got it all: "Friends, check/ money, check/ well slept, check/ opposite sex, check." Still, he concludes: "Something's missing." The first lyrics in the song imply that he's incredibly lonely, even though he's "not alone." We offer these gods our time, energy, talents, worship-- yet we still discover empty places.
The gods crack at some point. Maybe they work for a while, but ultimately, something happens that WOUNDS us, that leaves us broken, that leaves us disappointed, that leaves us hurting and once more searching for truth.
For that Shadow-dweller, the variant shades of gray start to be more frustrating than they are reassuring. What is trust-worthy? What is good? What is fulfilling? Is there ANY reliable answer? Surely not EVERYTHING can be true-- the doctrine of peace and love is at odds with the doctrine of selfish gain; the doctrine of the pursuit of pleasure is at odds with the doctrine of the common good. What on earth is TRUTH?
The Shadow-dwellers, once so disgusted with the absolutes of the Towers, find themselves similarly disenchanted with the vague offerings of the Shadowlands. And what's more: they're stuck. They're hurt. And no one seems wise enough, strong enough, or trust-worthy enough to help them or heal them.
I heard someone say once, "The gospel starts when we realize that something's wrong."
Jesus isn't NECESSARY until we realize that something is wrong.
I feel empty.
I feel dissatisfied.
I am sickened by the evil in this world.
Love let me down; the one I thought would fulfill me couldn't.
My family let me down; they couldn't keep me safe.
I feel ashamed.
Something is WRONG.
And the truest thing I know is that we need something good and strong and forgiving to save us.
Getting out of the Towers
Got a bit of a series going. If this post seems confusing, check out:
Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
and
... Thoughts on Sheep
The Valley of the Towers, remember, is a confining place. People lock themselves in their Tower rooms, and follow the rules which cover their walls. They do everything they can to identify the SHOULDs: what they should look like, who they should be, how they should feel, what they should do... And they are adament about doing those SHOULDs and making sure other people do those SHOULDs as well. If they fail to do a should (I don't look like I should today...!) they feel like a big, fat failure. They often are more concerned with the WHAT (what should I do, when...? what should others do, when...?) rather than WHY. Literally speaking, we could consider the Towers to be symbolic of institutions that promote religious rituals or dogmatic thinking, while missing the point of Christian spirituality: intimacy with Christ.
In this blogger's opinion, the Towers are not a great place to be. Nor are they much fun.
You can get out of the Towers a number of ways:
1.) Sneaking out and sneaking back in.
The Tower Sneakers are those people that are desperate to be free from the Towers, but don't want to disappoint all the other Tower people who think Tower-living is the end-all, be-all. Generally, they feel ashamed for wanting to get away from the Towers for a little while, and they KNOW that if the Tower people found out, they'd condemn the person for doing a SHOULD-NOT. Therefore, this type of Tower fleeing is done very sneakily, and very shamefully. When this person returns to their Tower room, they will either be that much more adament about keeping the SHOULDs and the SHOULD-NOTs and will emphasize that everyone else keep them too (consider: politicians like Larry Craig who are vehemently outspoken against gay marriage, but then are caught soliciting sex from other men in an airport bathroom)-- OR, they will "officially" toe the line, while looking for other people who feel the same way they do, and can join them in their sneaking.
Real Life Tower Sneakers:
-----> My high-schoolers who are perfect and "Christian" at school, but who drink, do drugs, essentially put on a totally different identity, once they're outside the school walls.
-----> People who have affairs
-----> People who have hidden addictions
2.) Escaping and Running Away
This is a much bolder way of getting out of the Towers. These are the people that are so damn sick of Tower living, they're ready to do anything to escape. Maybe these people have played the SHOULD and SHOULD-NOT games so meticulously and with such a frozen smile on their faces for so long that they're ready to explode. Or, maybe they've snuck away so often that they've determined they'd rather have THAT "shameful" existence than Tower living-- ANYTHING but Tower living. In any case, once these people escape the Towers, they run as fast and as far as they can, and they don't look back. Their escape may be a tying-sheets-together-and-sneaking-out-the-window kind (i.e. gradually distancing oneself from the church and severing ties with Church people); it may be a quiet elevator straight to the ground without a word or a glance back (i.e. a sudden disappearance of someone who used to be a Church regular); or, it may be a dramatic LEAP from the window (i.e. a dramatic fall-out with the Church). One thing is clear: they've concluded they can't take it anymore and don't EVER want to live in the Towers again.
Real Life Tower Leapers:
-----> People who leave their spouses and/or families
-----> People who suddenly transform from Christian "goody-two-shoes" into wildly different characters-- they cut off most if not all friends and dramatically transform. People that I've known who do this have changed their names, dyed their hair, gotten tattoos, gotten into drugs, made all new friends in a dramatically different cultural setting, etc.
-----> People who throw themselves into addictions
3.) Excommunication
This is the saddest type of Tower exit, because it's forced on someone who probably actually loves the Tower people, even though they probably don't like Tower living. These people basically "suck" at Tower living. They do, when they SHOULD-NOT. They don't when they SHOULD. Maybe they fall into temptation a lot; maybe they're gay; maybe they're divorced; maybe they have tons of tattoos; maybe they're obese. In any case, they've broken the Tower rules so many times-- either accidentally or on purpose-- that their imperfection is flagrant and the Tower people come down on them HARD. Ultimately, the Tower people evict them from the Towers, or perhaps, to a lesser extent, put them in a smaller cell or in solitary confinement or "punish" them somehow. These people will at first probably feel tremendous grief at losing their place in the Towers, but most likely, this will later turn into profound bitterness. They will probably never try to return to the Towers, or anything remotely LIKE the Towers because 1.) they failed at Tower living, 2.) they feel great bitterness towards the Towers, and 3.)-- most profoundly-- they feel hated by the Tower people.
Real Life Tower Excommunicates:
-----> Anyone who's ever been kicked out of church (or, for that matter, a Christian private school) because of their "sin."
-----> Often, homosexuals who come out, or who are found out
-----> I think couples often punish each other for failing to meet the SHOULDs or SHOULD-NOTs. They may inflict smaller degrees of punishment, but it is along these same lines. This can result in one or both becoming Tower Sneakers.
4.) Those for whom the Tower crumbles.
These people have probably been GREAT at Tower living. They're probably great at following codes, and formulas, and even writing NEW formulas and following all of the SHOULDs and SHOULD-NOTs. But at some point, something alarming happens. Despite all their safety precautions, despite following all the rules-- the Tower begins to crumble. The certainty of the Towers is challenged-- the simple black and white is overwhelmed with a bewildering fog of gray. These people wish badly they could stay in the Towers and they might frantically try to repair crumbling 2x4s with new bricks of formula, new boards of rules. Still, it's only a matter of time before the Tower topples, leading these poor people searching for certainty, searching for Truth, desperate for protection. It's terrifying when a Tower crumbles... but probably the best thing that could ever happen to a Tower-clinger in the long run.
Real Life Tower Crumblers:
-----> Anyone who's ever had an expectation of God that He didn't meet.
-----> Anyone who's ever experienced a tragedy that seems senseless.
-----> Anyone who's ever been massively disappointed by someone they trusted and believed in.
-----> Anyone whose formulas for success have failed.
-----> Me.
5.) The Graceful Exit
I suppose it's possible for someone to gradually wake up to the destructive ideology of the Towers and to gently put in their two weeks notice, bid warm heartfelt goodbyes to the Tower people, and smoothly transition to the Land of Grace while maintaining strong friendships with the Tower people. How often does that happen though? I'd love to know the secret of how to accomplish the Graceful exit.
Blogs to come:
How to get into the Land of Grace
What keeps you OUT of the Land of Grace
What puts or keeps people in the Towers
Where the rubber hits the road: an anecdote (or two) of how this analogy is practically changing my interactions with people, and my understanding of grace
The Shadowlands
Exploring the Land of Grace: pits, seasons, paths, view-points, and fences
Stay tuned.
Pits, Towers, Fields and Dancing
and
... Thoughts on Sheep
The Valley of the Towers, remember, is a confining place. People lock themselves in their Tower rooms, and follow the rules which cover their walls. They do everything they can to identify the SHOULDs: what they should look like, who they should be, how they should feel, what they should do... And they are adament about doing those SHOULDs and making sure other people do those SHOULDs as well. If they fail to do a should (I don't look like I should today...!) they feel like a big, fat failure. They often are more concerned with the WHAT (what should I do, when...? what should others do, when...?) rather than WHY. Literally speaking, we could consider the Towers to be symbolic of institutions that promote religious rituals or dogmatic thinking, while missing the point of Christian spirituality: intimacy with Christ.
In this blogger's opinion, the Towers are not a great place to be. Nor are they much fun.
You can get out of the Towers a number of ways:
1.) Sneaking out and sneaking back in.
The Tower Sneakers are those people that are desperate to be free from the Towers, but don't want to disappoint all the other Tower people who think Tower-living is the end-all, be-all. Generally, they feel ashamed for wanting to get away from the Towers for a little while, and they KNOW that if the Tower people found out, they'd condemn the person for doing a SHOULD-NOT. Therefore, this type of Tower fleeing is done very sneakily, and very shamefully. When this person returns to their Tower room, they will either be that much more adament about keeping the SHOULDs and the SHOULD-NOTs and will emphasize that everyone else keep them too (consider: politicians like Larry Craig who are vehemently outspoken against gay marriage, but then are caught soliciting sex from other men in an airport bathroom)-- OR, they will "officially" toe the line, while looking for other people who feel the same way they do, and can join them in their sneaking.
Real Life Tower Sneakers:
-----> My high-schoolers who are perfect and "Christian" at school, but who drink, do drugs, essentially put on a totally different identity, once they're outside the school walls.
-----> People who have affairs
-----> People who have hidden addictions
2.) Escaping and Running Away
This is a much bolder way of getting out of the Towers. These are the people that are so damn sick of Tower living, they're ready to do anything to escape. Maybe these people have played the SHOULD and SHOULD-NOT games so meticulously and with such a frozen smile on their faces for so long that they're ready to explode. Or, maybe they've snuck away so often that they've determined they'd rather have THAT "shameful" existence than Tower living-- ANYTHING but Tower living. In any case, once these people escape the Towers, they run as fast and as far as they can, and they don't look back. Their escape may be a tying-sheets-together-and-sneaking-out-the-window kind (i.e. gradually distancing oneself from the church and severing ties with Church people); it may be a quiet elevator straight to the ground without a word or a glance back (i.e. a sudden disappearance of someone who used to be a Church regular); or, it may be a dramatic LEAP from the window (i.e. a dramatic fall-out with the Church). One thing is clear: they've concluded they can't take it anymore and don't EVER want to live in the Towers again.
Real Life Tower Leapers:
-----> People who leave their spouses and/or families
-----> People who suddenly transform from Christian "goody-two-shoes" into wildly different characters-- they cut off most if not all friends and dramatically transform. People that I've known who do this have changed their names, dyed their hair, gotten tattoos, gotten into drugs, made all new friends in a dramatically different cultural setting, etc.
-----> People who throw themselves into addictions
3.) Excommunication
This is the saddest type of Tower exit, because it's forced on someone who probably actually loves the Tower people, even though they probably don't like Tower living. These people basically "suck" at Tower living. They do, when they SHOULD-NOT. They don't when they SHOULD. Maybe they fall into temptation a lot; maybe they're gay; maybe they're divorced; maybe they have tons of tattoos; maybe they're obese. In any case, they've broken the Tower rules so many times-- either accidentally or on purpose-- that their imperfection is flagrant and the Tower people come down on them HARD. Ultimately, the Tower people evict them from the Towers, or perhaps, to a lesser extent, put them in a smaller cell or in solitary confinement or "punish" them somehow. These people will at first probably feel tremendous grief at losing their place in the Towers, but most likely, this will later turn into profound bitterness. They will probably never try to return to the Towers, or anything remotely LIKE the Towers because 1.) they failed at Tower living, 2.) they feel great bitterness towards the Towers, and 3.)-- most profoundly-- they feel hated by the Tower people.
Real Life Tower Excommunicates:
-----> Anyone who's ever been kicked out of church (or, for that matter, a Christian private school) because of their "sin."
-----> Often, homosexuals who come out, or who are found out
-----> I think couples often punish each other for failing to meet the SHOULDs or SHOULD-NOTs. They may inflict smaller degrees of punishment, but it is along these same lines. This can result in one or both becoming Tower Sneakers.
4.) Those for whom the Tower crumbles.
These people have probably been GREAT at Tower living. They're probably great at following codes, and formulas, and even writing NEW formulas and following all of the SHOULDs and SHOULD-NOTs. But at some point, something alarming happens. Despite all their safety precautions, despite following all the rules-- the Tower begins to crumble. The certainty of the Towers is challenged-- the simple black and white is overwhelmed with a bewildering fog of gray. These people wish badly they could stay in the Towers and they might frantically try to repair crumbling 2x4s with new bricks of formula, new boards of rules. Still, it's only a matter of time before the Tower topples, leading these poor people searching for certainty, searching for Truth, desperate for protection. It's terrifying when a Tower crumbles... but probably the best thing that could ever happen to a Tower-clinger in the long run.
Real Life Tower Crumblers:
-----> Anyone who's ever had an expectation of God that He didn't meet.
-----> Anyone who's ever experienced a tragedy that seems senseless.
-----> Anyone who's ever been massively disappointed by someone they trusted and believed in.
-----> Anyone whose formulas for success have failed.
-----> Me.
5.) The Graceful Exit
I suppose it's possible for someone to gradually wake up to the destructive ideology of the Towers and to gently put in their two weeks notice, bid warm heartfelt goodbyes to the Tower people, and smoothly transition to the Land of Grace while maintaining strong friendships with the Tower people. How often does that happen though? I'd love to know the secret of how to accomplish the Graceful exit.
Blogs to come:
How to get into the Land of Grace
What keeps you OUT of the Land of Grace
What puts or keeps people in the Towers
Where the rubber hits the road: an anecdote (or two) of how this analogy is practically changing my interactions with people, and my understanding of grace
The Shadowlands
Exploring the Land of Grace: pits, seasons, paths, view-points, and fences
Stay tuned.
Apr 15, 2011
The Sinister Birthday Balloon
Y'all, this tower/field stuff has sort of changed my life. I can't remember feeling as free as I've felt the last couple weeks, like, EVER.
I've thought lots more about it; have written lots more. Is anyone interested in hearing more about the Valley of the Towers or the Field of Grace? Or the Shadowlands, for that matter? (The Shadowlands are new.)
In the meantime, I've asked my sophomores to write a poem based off the romantic poet Lord Byron's "She Walks in Beauty." I didn't want to be left out, so this morning I tried writing a poem as well. My inspiration? The helium balloon* I received on my birthday, well over a month ago, which still creepily hovers near my ceiling and seems to move with a life of its own.
It skulks in my closet, like a raccoon
With devious thoughts and black-ringed eyes
Except, in this case, my birthday balloon
Suspiciously bobs, and tells helium lies.
It ducks and prowls over sweaters and dresses--
A rat-tail ribbon twisting craftily down;
And skritching along, it gives plastic caresses
To my poor frightened skirts and quivering gowns.
There’s no seeming end to its garish display
Of floating red foil, of yellow parading
The freaky thing’s floated for 46 days
And snickers through nights with its “Happy birthday-ing”!
Drawing by Elliot, 12, found on Flickr.
Anyway. Looking forward to hearing what the kids have come up with. :)
*This is not the first time balloons have been ascribed human personalities. Remember this?
I've thought lots more about it; have written lots more. Is anyone interested in hearing more about the Valley of the Towers or the Field of Grace? Or the Shadowlands, for that matter? (The Shadowlands are new.)
In the meantime, I've asked my sophomores to write a poem based off the romantic poet Lord Byron's "She Walks in Beauty." I didn't want to be left out, so this morning I tried writing a poem as well. My inspiration? The helium balloon* I received on my birthday, well over a month ago, which still creepily hovers near my ceiling and seems to move with a life of its own.
It skulks in my closet, like a raccoon
With devious thoughts and black-ringed eyes
Except, in this case, my birthday balloon
Suspiciously bobs, and tells helium lies.
It ducks and prowls over sweaters and dresses--
A rat-tail ribbon twisting craftily down;
And skritching along, it gives plastic caresses
To my poor frightened skirts and quivering gowns.
There’s no seeming end to its garish display
Of floating red foil, of yellow parading
The freaky thing’s floated for 46 days
And snickers through nights with its “Happy birthday-ing”!
Drawing by Elliot, 12, found on Flickr.
Anyway. Looking forward to hearing what the kids have come up with. :)
*This is not the first time balloons have been ascribed human personalities. Remember this?
Apr 7, 2011
One time I was freaked out and stuck at a bar so I thought about sheep.
It turns out I'd be a great candidate for a Cougar. I keep getting hit on by much younger men-- like the 19-year-old tow truck driver from last night, to whom I pointed out, "You're the same age as the students I taught last year."
His response: "Yeah, you do NOT look 27!"
Thanks dude. Thanks.
Wait-- tow truck driver...?
Indeed. Last night while driving home from the little core group I lead (UW Froshies; Bible Study; Fellowship; etc), I noticed my hood was smoking or steaming or something like crazy. Then I realized my temperature gauge had jumped to as high as it could go. Freaked out; pulled over; called AAA.
Then I waited at a nearby bar for two HOURS until Mr. 19-year-old showed up with his big truck.
And as I was sitting in this bar, freaking out, my mind went back to Towers and Pits and Fields.
I know next to nothing about cars, so my first panicked conclusion was that I might have somehow caused the breakdown. The last time I got my oil changed, they didn't give me the little sticker telling me when to bring it in next, and I rely on the little sticker. You'd think the lack of a sticker would have prompted more frequent dipstick checks on my part, but no: every time I think about my oil I just ask myself, "When was that oil change again...? It doesn't seem like it was THAT long ago..."
So in this bar, as it's pumping horrible 90's music and as college guys carry on a game of beer pong on the floor below me, I tell myself, "I should have gotten the oil changed sooner! I suck! I've failed!"
Pit, pit, pit and the Liar cackles. I'm back in the Valley of the Towers.
The only thing I had to keep me occupied while waiting was my journal, so I wrote and wrote and wrote. After reminding myself in all capital letters that I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN MY OIL CHANGED SOONER, I wrote:
"Breathe deep.
"Remember where you are.
"Remember WHOSE you are.
"Remember that He is a powerful God and that He has always shown up in major ways.
"I am free in a big, wide open field of grace. Jesus pulls me out of the pit almost as soon as I've tried to get in it.
"And even though pits have very real-life consequences and very tangible (and costly) ramifications, Jesus reminds me:
"'Hey-- daughter. I will HELP you. I will help you know what to do. I will take care of things-- haven't I ALWAYS taken care of you? Remember when I told you, 'I cushion every foot-fall that you make,' and then I DID? You will be okay.'"
In the bar, with TLC pumping, I tried to imagine Jesus giving me a hug. I think Jesus hugs would probably feel great.
I wrote in my journal again: "He says, 'Darling daughter-- you will be just FINE. Remember how much I love you. I love you impossibly. I love you like lit up fountain water, like the shadows of dolphins leaping in waves. I love you with the intricacy of a spider's web, I love you like wind through trees, I love you longer than it takes the miraculous light from a falling star to reach your breathing eyes on earth. I love you like a sunrise, I love you like ocean waves, I love you like a child's laugh, like September blackberries, like a twirl, like a tight warm quilt. I love you like a warm sunbeam through a window, I love you like a good story. I love you like old French music in the rain. You will be OKAY sweet daughter of mine-- I love you so much. I love you impossibly.'
"And as Satan grumpily slithers back into the hole where he came from, Jesus pulls me back into a tight hold and encourages me to dance once again.
"Moments of fear, moments of insecurity and panic-- oh, then how I crave the certainty of the towers.
"But there is music and freedom and reassurance in this Land of Grace. I will be okay."
This is probably the point when AAA called and told me that the tow-truck company was tied up with accidents and it was going to be another 90 minutes. I gave the very kind waitress a forlorn look and kept writing.
"I have been thinking more about Towers and Pits and the Land of Grace," I wrote, and I thought about my core group girls. Sometimes I wonder: just how much grace should I offer them? When is it appropriate to call them out, and say, "You know, sweet girl-- maybe this really isn't a good idea for you to be doing." When do I point out, "Your actions seem inconsistent with the faith you profess"? I've told them that my first priority with our group is to make it a place of safety and grace. I've said that, more than anything, I want this to be a place where they can feel absolute freedom to be real and honest with each other.
And that's true. And I've sort of figured that, as long as we're reading the Bible and discussing it, and praying with one another-- well then, God will show them the rest.
But still, sometimes I wonder: "As their leader, SHOULD I be doing this differently?" I remember some core group leaders calling me out in necessary ways, and I needed that. "Should I be instructing them? Should I be emphasizing more how they should live; how they shouldn't live?"
Basically what I'm asking is: is Tower Training ever appropriate?
I wrote in my journal, "When I think of my high-school students, I know that developmentally, they still very much see the world in Black and White. There are definite boundaries-- there is a clear right and a clear wrong, there is even a clear US and a clear THEM. There are consequences for what is WRONG (unless they can get away with it)... and overall, it seems like they think and are taught in terms of SHOULD and SHOULD NOT.
"So I wonder: is it healthy, in some respect, to be 'trained in the towers'?
"John 10 talks about a shepherd with His flock-- it's Jesus talking-- and He describes leading the sheep in through a gate and how they won't follow a stranger's voice; how, HIS sheep know HIS voice and they follow Him, and those sheep that know Him 'will come in and go out and find pasture' (10:9).
"And I have been thinking about this because this is a field we're dealing with, I assume-- Jesus is a shepherd and sheep graze in wide open spaces I presume, so it sounds like a Field of Grace.
"Yet there is a pen, and a gate, and a fence which all sound like boundaries. And yet the sheep 'go in and out and find pasture.'
"How do I reconcile this? What does all this mean for 'training'? What does this mean for the expansive freedom I envisioned in the Land of Grace?
"I think the most important part is the fact that Jesus says that His sheep 'know His voice' (10: 4, 14, 27). The fact that they know His voice implies such intimacy I feel. It implies such a personal understanding, such a familiarity between sheep and shepherd.
"I think, if that intimacy exists, there is very little need for the Towers of SHOULDs and SHOULD-NOTs. The sheep are safe because they know to follow the shepherd's voice, and as He points out, He'll do absolutely anything He needs to do to protect them, even lay down His life.
"If there is not that intimacy though, if the sheep do not recognize the voice of their shepherd-- well, perhaps then it IS wiser to keep the sheep safely locked in a tower room, and surround the sheep with lists of SHOULDs and SHOULD-NOTs. Perhaps then, somehow, the sheep will be kept safe-- for as long as it submits to the shut tower doors, that is."
And in writing this blog even now, I'm thinking, "Some of the Tower lessons are good-- a Tower lesson I'm familiar with is 'Read your Bible,' and 'Pray.' And those lessons, those SHOULDs-- well, aren't those practices the way that a sheep learns to recognize the voice of the shepherd?"
But then I think, "Yet in the Towers, the implication is that you do those things because you SHOULD do them, because that is the RIGHT thing to do. And if you don't do them, well then, you are a bad sheep and you suck."
In the Land of Grace, conversely, you read and pray because you love the Shepherd, and He loves you, and you want to learn the dance, and you want to know HIM more.
I still don't know what this means in terms of what I do with my core group girls. After all, I basically make them read a chapter of John every week. I think there are a lot of weeks when they'd really rather not do the Bible Study part. Am I cornering them in a Tower and forcing a SHOULD down their mouths?
I don't know.
Back to the journal.
I wrote, "At some point, any sheep is going to make its own decision. Who is my shepherd? Who will I follow? Where will I choose to graze?
"The Towers of the SHOULDs and the SHOULD-NOTs may have inadvertently provided directions to the Land of Grace. Maybe, having been trained in the Towers, once a sheep leaves, it will find its way right to the Land of Grace. And that could be a great thing.
"But a sheep may also choose to follow the voice of the Thief.
"I think some sheep-- even with Tower training, maybe because of Tower training-- just need to find their own way. They escape and follow the Thief for a while, and when they realize the Thief is destroying them-- maybe THAT'S when they finally arrive, bedraggled, at the Fields of Grace. Maybe those people need to find themselves at the bottom of a pit before they realize how badly they want to feel freedom.
"Or who knows, maybe some sheep never find their way to the Land of Grace at all.
"I watched the movie '127 Hours' two nights ago and it's about a really cocky, confident hiker guy who gets his arm pinned against a canyon wall and can't get out for 127 hours. He tries everything he can do to free himself but none of it works. Finally, he saws his arm off-- and this is a true story too. He saws his arm off and stumbles out of the canyon and finally he sees people and yells, 'I need HELP!-- Please-- help me!!' This super cocky guy found himself in a pit and finally admits he's in desperate need of help.
"I think pit-discovery is sort of like that too. I think sometimes getting OUT of the pit requires pretty serious humility and repentance-- and may even require renouncing a part of yourself, like Richard talked about in his last sermon. Maybe we need to renounce the part of ourselves that follows the Thief. Like, saw off an arm.
"Yet still-- this scenery out of the pit is not tall towers of rules and formulas and high-up-in-the-tower-looking-down-on-others-judgment. It's still open fields.
"I don't know if there's ever a place for the Valley of the Towers. I know that, so long as a sheep recognizes the voice of the Good Shepherd, it will follow its True Shepherd into a field which is open, which has a pen of safety when needed, a pen which can be entered and exited, which offers good pasture.
"But I also believe that navigating all those places is near impossible to do without listening for the VOICE of the Good Shepherd.
"Maybe the 'training' of young people should be less about SHOULDs and SHOULD-NOTs and more about recognizing the voice of the Shepherd.
"Jesus is a warm voice-- a guide, who wants the most delightful discoveries for us. He is an arm's length away, even in the pit. He is a rescuer-- a rescuer who wants to laugh with us, be joyful with us, be FREE with us.
"He wants to save us, mostly.
"And following Him does not require following rules or codes or formulas-- it is more a simple following of His voice, of listening for that gentle, kind direction. It is going in and out and following the Shepherd to the nicest fields and exploring and finding refuge in the pen at times, and experiencing freedom and embracing LOVE.
"Grace is such a twirl.
"It really is."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
That was the end of last night's journal entry; shortly after that, the 19-year-old came and got me and towed my poor Honda home. Still don't know what's wrong with it-- praying it's just a broken radiator hose.
I know, in this Field of Grace analogy, there's still a lot to be worked out. I haven't thought yet about how the Great Commission works into it all-- although I bet it has something to do with Jesus telling Peter that, if Peter loves Him, to take care of His sheep. Like I said in the last blog, I'm new to this place and still blinking my eyes in the bright light, waiting for them to adjust.
It's a paradigm shift, really-- a removal of one fundamental lens of assessment and the replacement of that lens with a new one. I'd really love to hear people's thoughts on this (if, that is, you managed to read the whole thing. I've given up on writing this blog for an audience; it's more for me, and for the random passer-by who has eons of time to read my giant blogs.) But if you HAVE managed to read this all, I'd be interested in your thoughts: is this watered down theology? Are there some of us who DO, in fact, belong in the Valley of the Towers? How do you find yourself managing to navigate life-- do you rely on formulas? Do you stumble with so much freedom in Grace?
Any thoughts would be welcome. Blessings to you, fellow sheepies.
His response: "Yeah, you do NOT look 27!"
Thanks dude. Thanks.
Wait-- tow truck driver...?
Indeed. Last night while driving home from the little core group I lead (UW Froshies; Bible Study; Fellowship; etc), I noticed my hood was smoking or steaming or something like crazy. Then I realized my temperature gauge had jumped to as high as it could go. Freaked out; pulled over; called AAA.
Then I waited at a nearby bar for two HOURS until Mr. 19-year-old showed up with his big truck.
And as I was sitting in this bar, freaking out, my mind went back to Towers and Pits and Fields.
I know next to nothing about cars, so my first panicked conclusion was that I might have somehow caused the breakdown. The last time I got my oil changed, they didn't give me the little sticker telling me when to bring it in next, and I rely on the little sticker. You'd think the lack of a sticker would have prompted more frequent dipstick checks on my part, but no: every time I think about my oil I just ask myself, "When was that oil change again...? It doesn't seem like it was THAT long ago..."
So in this bar, as it's pumping horrible 90's music and as college guys carry on a game of beer pong on the floor below me, I tell myself, "I should have gotten the oil changed sooner! I suck! I've failed!"
Pit, pit, pit and the Liar cackles. I'm back in the Valley of the Towers.
The only thing I had to keep me occupied while waiting was my journal, so I wrote and wrote and wrote. After reminding myself in all capital letters that I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN MY OIL CHANGED SOONER, I wrote:
"Breathe deep.
"Remember where you are.
"Remember WHOSE you are.
"Remember that He is a powerful God and that He has always shown up in major ways.
"I am free in a big, wide open field of grace. Jesus pulls me out of the pit almost as soon as I've tried to get in it.
"And even though pits have very real-life consequences and very tangible (and costly) ramifications, Jesus reminds me:
"'Hey-- daughter. I will HELP you. I will help you know what to do. I will take care of things-- haven't I ALWAYS taken care of you? Remember when I told you, 'I cushion every foot-fall that you make,' and then I DID? You will be okay.'"
In the bar, with TLC pumping, I tried to imagine Jesus giving me a hug. I think Jesus hugs would probably feel great.
I wrote in my journal again: "He says, 'Darling daughter-- you will be just FINE. Remember how much I love you. I love you impossibly. I love you like lit up fountain water, like the shadows of dolphins leaping in waves. I love you with the intricacy of a spider's web, I love you like wind through trees, I love you longer than it takes the miraculous light from a falling star to reach your breathing eyes on earth. I love you like a sunrise, I love you like ocean waves, I love you like a child's laugh, like September blackberries, like a twirl, like a tight warm quilt. I love you like a warm sunbeam through a window, I love you like a good story. I love you like old French music in the rain. You will be OKAY sweet daughter of mine-- I love you so much. I love you impossibly.'
"And as Satan grumpily slithers back into the hole where he came from, Jesus pulls me back into a tight hold and encourages me to dance once again.
"Moments of fear, moments of insecurity and panic-- oh, then how I crave the certainty of the towers.
"But there is music and freedom and reassurance in this Land of Grace. I will be okay."
This is probably the point when AAA called and told me that the tow-truck company was tied up with accidents and it was going to be another 90 minutes. I gave the very kind waitress a forlorn look and kept writing.
"I have been thinking more about Towers and Pits and the Land of Grace," I wrote, and I thought about my core group girls. Sometimes I wonder: just how much grace should I offer them? When is it appropriate to call them out, and say, "You know, sweet girl-- maybe this really isn't a good idea for you to be doing." When do I point out, "Your actions seem inconsistent with the faith you profess"? I've told them that my first priority with our group is to make it a place of safety and grace. I've said that, more than anything, I want this to be a place where they can feel absolute freedom to be real and honest with each other.
And that's true. And I've sort of figured that, as long as we're reading the Bible and discussing it, and praying with one another-- well then, God will show them the rest.
But still, sometimes I wonder: "As their leader, SHOULD I be doing this differently?" I remember some core group leaders calling me out in necessary ways, and I needed that. "Should I be instructing them? Should I be emphasizing more how they should live; how they shouldn't live?"
Basically what I'm asking is: is Tower Training ever appropriate?
I wrote in my journal, "When I think of my high-school students, I know that developmentally, they still very much see the world in Black and White. There are definite boundaries-- there is a clear right and a clear wrong, there is even a clear US and a clear THEM. There are consequences for what is WRONG (unless they can get away with it)... and overall, it seems like they think and are taught in terms of SHOULD and SHOULD NOT.
"So I wonder: is it healthy, in some respect, to be 'trained in the towers'?
"John 10 talks about a shepherd with His flock-- it's Jesus talking-- and He describes leading the sheep in through a gate and how they won't follow a stranger's voice; how, HIS sheep know HIS voice and they follow Him, and those sheep that know Him 'will come in and go out and find pasture' (10:9).
"And I have been thinking about this because this is a field we're dealing with, I assume-- Jesus is a shepherd and sheep graze in wide open spaces I presume, so it sounds like a Field of Grace.
"Yet there is a pen, and a gate, and a fence which all sound like boundaries. And yet the sheep 'go in and out and find pasture.'
"How do I reconcile this? What does all this mean for 'training'? What does this mean for the expansive freedom I envisioned in the Land of Grace?
"I think the most important part is the fact that Jesus says that His sheep 'know His voice' (10: 4, 14, 27). The fact that they know His voice implies such intimacy I feel. It implies such a personal understanding, such a familiarity between sheep and shepherd.
"I think, if that intimacy exists, there is very little need for the Towers of SHOULDs and SHOULD-NOTs. The sheep are safe because they know to follow the shepherd's voice, and as He points out, He'll do absolutely anything He needs to do to protect them, even lay down His life.
"If there is not that intimacy though, if the sheep do not recognize the voice of their shepherd-- well, perhaps then it IS wiser to keep the sheep safely locked in a tower room, and surround the sheep with lists of SHOULDs and SHOULD-NOTs. Perhaps then, somehow, the sheep will be kept safe-- for as long as it submits to the shut tower doors, that is."
And in writing this blog even now, I'm thinking, "Some of the Tower lessons are good-- a Tower lesson I'm familiar with is 'Read your Bible,' and 'Pray.' And those lessons, those SHOULDs-- well, aren't those practices the way that a sheep learns to recognize the voice of the shepherd?"
But then I think, "Yet in the Towers, the implication is that you do those things because you SHOULD do them, because that is the RIGHT thing to do. And if you don't do them, well then, you are a bad sheep and you suck."
In the Land of Grace, conversely, you read and pray because you love the Shepherd, and He loves you, and you want to learn the dance, and you want to know HIM more.
I still don't know what this means in terms of what I do with my core group girls. After all, I basically make them read a chapter of John every week. I think there are a lot of weeks when they'd really rather not do the Bible Study part. Am I cornering them in a Tower and forcing a SHOULD down their mouths?
I don't know.
Back to the journal.
I wrote, "At some point, any sheep is going to make its own decision. Who is my shepherd? Who will I follow? Where will I choose to graze?
"The Towers of the SHOULDs and the SHOULD-NOTs may have inadvertently provided directions to the Land of Grace. Maybe, having been trained in the Towers, once a sheep leaves, it will find its way right to the Land of Grace. And that could be a great thing.
"But a sheep may also choose to follow the voice of the Thief.
"I think some sheep-- even with Tower training, maybe because of Tower training-- just need to find their own way. They escape and follow the Thief for a while, and when they realize the Thief is destroying them-- maybe THAT'S when they finally arrive, bedraggled, at the Fields of Grace. Maybe those people need to find themselves at the bottom of a pit before they realize how badly they want to feel freedom.
"Or who knows, maybe some sheep never find their way to the Land of Grace at all.
"I watched the movie '127 Hours' two nights ago and it's about a really cocky, confident hiker guy who gets his arm pinned against a canyon wall and can't get out for 127 hours. He tries everything he can do to free himself but none of it works. Finally, he saws his arm off-- and this is a true story too. He saws his arm off and stumbles out of the canyon and finally he sees people and yells, 'I need HELP!-- Please-- help me!!' This super cocky guy found himself in a pit and finally admits he's in desperate need of help.
"I think pit-discovery is sort of like that too. I think sometimes getting OUT of the pit requires pretty serious humility and repentance-- and may even require renouncing a part of yourself, like Richard talked about in his last sermon. Maybe we need to renounce the part of ourselves that follows the Thief. Like, saw off an arm.
"Yet still-- this scenery out of the pit is not tall towers of rules and formulas and high-up-in-the-tower-looking-down-on-others-judgment. It's still open fields.
"I don't know if there's ever a place for the Valley of the Towers. I know that, so long as a sheep recognizes the voice of the Good Shepherd, it will follow its True Shepherd into a field which is open, which has a pen of safety when needed, a pen which can be entered and exited, which offers good pasture.
"But I also believe that navigating all those places is near impossible to do without listening for the VOICE of the Good Shepherd.
"Maybe the 'training' of young people should be less about SHOULDs and SHOULD-NOTs and more about recognizing the voice of the Shepherd.
"Jesus is a warm voice-- a guide, who wants the most delightful discoveries for us. He is an arm's length away, even in the pit. He is a rescuer-- a rescuer who wants to laugh with us, be joyful with us, be FREE with us.
"He wants to save us, mostly.
"And following Him does not require following rules or codes or formulas-- it is more a simple following of His voice, of listening for that gentle, kind direction. It is going in and out and following the Shepherd to the nicest fields and exploring and finding refuge in the pen at times, and experiencing freedom and embracing LOVE.
"Grace is such a twirl.
"It really is."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
That was the end of last night's journal entry; shortly after that, the 19-year-old came and got me and towed my poor Honda home. Still don't know what's wrong with it-- praying it's just a broken radiator hose.
I know, in this Field of Grace analogy, there's still a lot to be worked out. I haven't thought yet about how the Great Commission works into it all-- although I bet it has something to do with Jesus telling Peter that, if Peter loves Him, to take care of His sheep. Like I said in the last blog, I'm new to this place and still blinking my eyes in the bright light, waiting for them to adjust.
It's a paradigm shift, really-- a removal of one fundamental lens of assessment and the replacement of that lens with a new one. I'd really love to hear people's thoughts on this (if, that is, you managed to read the whole thing. I've given up on writing this blog for an audience; it's more for me, and for the random passer-by who has eons of time to read my giant blogs.) But if you HAVE managed to read this all, I'd be interested in your thoughts: is this watered down theology? Are there some of us who DO, in fact, belong in the Valley of the Towers? How do you find yourself managing to navigate life-- do you rely on formulas? Do you stumble with so much freedom in Grace?
Any thoughts would be welcome. Blessings to you, fellow sheepies.
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