Town to City

I like to hide. But this is because I don't like attention. Certain kinds of attention, not unlike other people I suppose, freak me out.

Last weekend I travelled to a place I've never been and met people I never thought I would, all for the possibility of work. I'd rather not give much away, since the whole thing, whether I'm being offered the job or not, is still up in the air. I'll say this, though. The town was small, smaller than what I'm used to lately. I have my fair share of years growing up in the boonies, where your closest companions are trees and occasionally wandering animals, but the last several years I've gotten used to concrete and steel, streets and neighborhoods, places where trees are planted every twenty yards in squares of dirt in sidewalks and animals are on leashes. Now, granted, where I went isn't the boonies per se. It's more like a small rodeo town in the middle of nowhere, where long roads connect places over vast land.

I remember thinking to myself immediately while getting off the highway and entering the town, "I don't know if I can do this." It's hard to say for sure what caused my initial fright, but I got ahold of myself and was soon enveloped in my stay. I met some great people, ate Mexican food, where my host knew half the people we saw, introduced myself several times, was asked loads of interesting and surprising questions and delved into fun and constructive conversations. I enjoyed my stay in this small town, and tried to imagine living there for a time.

After eating pizza and conversing for a bit at lunch, I soon realized time had flown by. It was time to say good-bye, possibly not for good. I gathered my things, gave hugs, shook hands, placed my bags in my car and soon left. I had done it. I had done what I set out to do, and with triumph.

On my way back I had a brilliant idea to see a friend who lived three hours from where I was. It was on the way. But the place she situated herself was of significant difference to where I was coming from. After driving alongside slushy snow alongside icy water, my lonely road transformed into a busy concentration of red and white lights, mimicking my veins and blood cells. I felt a rush of excitement and opportunity. I was in the city.

The building was lit, as I could tell from the open windows, as I drove up the parking lot. An Episcopal church is where I was meeting my friend, it's where she goes. Immediately, I thought, "No, no no no, this isn't right." I knew this was the place, but the "Episcopal" I read on the illuminated sign out front didn't correspond to what I was hearing. It was the lyrics and melody of the pop worship song "Give Me Faith." This was surely no typical Episcopal service, if it was one at all. It wasn't, come to find out. My friend's church community only meets there. I walked in and was slammed by this feeling. Shoot, what was it?

I stood at the back of this beautiful sanctuary, the long A-frame kind. Wood, pews, city-dwellers my age. Ah wow! I took a deep breath. The last song was sung and I looked for my friend during the meet-someone-new time. Surprised, I spotted her in the wake of shifting bodies and seemingly-shifty pews. We hugged and she introduced me to her friend. At last, I made it.

This community felt good and right, healthy and real. The preacher got up. He had glasses and wore and blazer. I was seated too far back to make out his facial features. I found myself shallowed up in an exposition of a passage in Hosea of all places. Gosh, I hadn't heard anything from Hosea in years, when a pastor preached in our college chapel reenacting Hosea's life in first person narrative. This word would be almost as memorable as that one.

Later I ate the dinner saved under foil for me. After service and dinner I stood in a hallway and talked poetry with the guy my friend introduced me to. They had worked together. He was thoroughly Portland. Long hair under faded beanie, scruff, scarf and painted nails. He's studying music I think. After, we drove him home and got milkshakes. This trip from small town to big city has highlighted something about myself I hadn't really known before. I like the city. Now, this isn't to say I don't like small towns or the one I came from, only that there is something about a city that, for me, is alluring, something beyond all the interesting people, shops, fashions, flash and ideas. Not like in a small town, in a city I can escape. Dreams of "Making It Big" drawn all kinds of people to cities. Money. Fame. Status. For me, I'd go there to hide.

My World in Words in 2012: Year One

A week into 2013 and I thought a flashback, for the purpose of pondering past posts, would prove enjoyable, possibly insightful. One year is the longest I have consistently blogged--and written--so a celebration is in order I do declare. Please come!

Homework, graduation, Kenya, internship and confusing months of wandering, working odd jobs while applying for and being rejected from the ones I wanted all characterized parts of the time allotted 2012. Written from diverse places, here are the ten most read posts (as calculated by my blog) from last year, in order ending with the most read:

Number ten is Share a Meal, Share Your Life: Eating as Bridging, a reflection on eating together. What is it about sharing a meal that is so sacred, so human?

A Writer's Curse was my articulation of writing as pain-in-the-ass. And oh how this was the case here.

Post-Kenya Notebook: What About These Kids? was the third post in a series about my trip to Kenya back in May. There were always a ton of kids during our outdoor ministry meetings, yet it seemed everyone was keen on neglecting them.

I wrote I Know You: An Ethic of Meeting pt. 1 after reflecting on how absurd it is to think you know who someone is even before meeting them.

After getting home from summer camp, I sat down to write about all the mayhem. Oh, there was much! This post, At Camp: Friendship, Innocence and a Moment's Peace, surprised me, and remains one of my favorites from last year.

Another fun one is My Beef with Identity: Abstract Language and Youth Ministry. This was a pain to write. I had mental constipation as these concepts had been swirling around my mind for quite some time after hearing a sermon at a local youth group. And the plan was to write a second part, what should be done when engaging identity, but I never followed through.

Post-Kenya Notebook: Kenyan Pentecostals Put Us to Shame was my first reflection on Kenya after our return to the States. And you thought we were charismatic?

Honestly, I am confused as to why this post was so read. Don't get me wrong, I think this story is very interesting, but I would not have thought it'd pique others' interest: Thinking on Christopher Rollston

The Big Rush: A About Educational Trailblazing was a discovery of my thoughts on friends and peers trucking through higher education, and the second most read.

The most read post of 2012 is absolutely perplexing. Dave the Dishwasher I wrote one night back at school when my friend Ben and I decided, honestly for no good reason, to stay up all night. We did so outside in our school's gazebo. This post was a product of our moon-bathing.

I don't know why some of these posts were so heavily read. So, I'll add a few more of my personal favorites here:

All I could think about while watching the fireworks on July 4th were words to capture such a sight. A couple days later I wrote this: Fire in the Sky

I wish A Medical Clinic and Unclean Exegesis had got more hits. This day at the medical clinic, particularly the conversation with Doctor, was so memorable to me.

Mainly, I just really like the picture in I Know You: An Ethic of Meeting pt. 2. Click to see... and read.

I am appreciative to all who regularly, or occasionally, read the whirling, swirling thoughts I pin down to this blog. Here's to one year of (more or less consistent) blogging and many more to come.

A Letter to Anger

Dear Friend,

All I wanted to do, while listening to your pitiful story last week, was fling my fist at your face. Waiting and waiting I was for some break in all the maleficence, turmoil and your perennial anger. But no break came. Story and after painful story is your collection, your ruined heap called "my life." I realize the last thing you need from me--or anyone--is some further articulation of the gravity of your sins. You don't. And I also realize you are, for the first time in your life, genuinely mourning and repenting of your sins against yourself, your family, your friends, your church and God. Because they are so grave, this will take time. By no means, don't rush this process.

My heart is afire as I peck away on this keyboard, burning it is for you. Because I don't want the rest of your life to succumb to the hells of its first sixty years, of lying to and failing your dying wife, mercilessly taking out your rage on your kids, your own flesh and blood, and deep bitterness toward God. You have wasted and ruined your life and others' with your impassioned soul. You were a slave to anger and rage. You did only that which they requested. They shackled you down like a dog, letting you venture out only to the end of your leash. But not anymore, and I'll be damned if you shack up with them again.

If there is one thing your hot tears, streamed as they did down your old weathered face, told me as you shared that evening it was you have, finally, had enough of living in anger, which is just a fancy way of saying living in death. Only Jesus brings life. Everything else is death in a pretty bow. Only Jesus and His Spirit can lead you out of hell and away from temptation and into paradise, virtue and freedom in obedience. So hear these few words, as they come from a place of friendship.

Defeating Sin: Overcoming Our Passions and Changing Forever is a book I recently finished by an Orthodox pastor, Joseph Huneycutt, from Texas. He wrote it for struggling people like you and me. About halfway he dedicates a section to what he calls the manifestations of the Passions. You probably know the Passions by their more popular name: The Seven Deadly Sins, pride, anger, lust, envy, gluttony, avarice and sloth. He takes each passion and briefly writes what he sees as the manifestations of each, or how they are expressed in everyday people.

You must understand now that Jesus brings freedom from sin, but, more often than not, we struggle, fight and even wage war against habitual lifestyles. Jesus has saved your life, here and later, and now, because the Scriptures tell us to strive for holiness--godly difference from the world--we do our part. Extremely important is also the realization that it is not just about the snuffing out of anger we desire. There's more. It's about the acquisition of, the obtaining of anger's opposite, the virtue that starts to sprout when we stamp anger out. In our case, patience. A word that seems dull to our modern ears because of its dearth of meaning. But it is absolutely vital for your flourishing.

Huneycutt quotes Elder Joseph the Hesychast:

You are delivered from this passion through love towards all humanity and true humility. Therefore, when anger comes, close your mouth tightly and do not speak to him who curses, dishonors, reproaches, or bothers you in any way without reason. Then this snake will writhe around in your heart, rise up to your throat, and (since you don't give it a way out) will choke and suffocate. When this is repeated several times, it will diminish and cease entirely. (77)

Now, listen to Huneycutt's manifestations, reading them slowly, letting them wash over you. And think not only how anger expresses itself but also how patience would be expressed, as anger's opposite, as our vitreous goal.

Resentment. Refusal to discern, accept, or fulfill God's vocation. Dissatisfaction with the talents, abilities, or opportunities He has given us. Unwillingness to face up to difficulties or sacrifices. Unjustified rebellion or complaint at the circumstances of our lives. Escape from reality or the attempt to force our will upon it. Transference to God, to our parents, to society, or to other individuals of the blame for our maladjustment; hatred of God or antisocial behavior. Cynicism. Annoyance at the contrariness of things: profanity or grumbling.

Pugnacity. Attack upon another in anger. Murder in deed or desire. Combativeness or nursing of grudges. Injury to another by striking, cursing, or insulting him; or by damaging his reputation or property. Quarrelsomeness, bickering, contradiction, nagging, rudeness, or snubbing.

Retaliation. Vengeance for wrongs real or imagined, or the plotting thereof. Hostility, sullenness, or rash judgment. Refusal to forgive or to offer or accept reconciliation. Unwillingness to love, to do good to, or to pray for enemies. Boycotting or ostracizing another for selfish reasons. Spoiling others' pleasure by uncooperativeness or disdain, because we have not got our way, or because we feel out of sorts or superior.

I'm not going to pretend that, on some fundamental level, some of your feelings are not justified. Life has been difficult on you. But you have taken seriously wrong turns in blaming your dying wife on God and transferring your anger and bitterness to the aching bodies of your beloved children. It is time you took responsibility for your disgraceful actions and with inspiration for redemption and sanctification, in Jesus' Spirit, journey toward healing and wholeness and the acquisition of the virtues, starting with patience. You never journey alone. Look up to the history of worthy saints before you, that great cloud of witnesses, who have modeled in blood, sweat, and tears what it means to be holy.

Sincerely,

Nick

Notes

All quotations taken from, Joseph Huneycutt, Defeating Sin: Overing Our Passions and Changing Forever, (Salisbury, MA: Regina Orthodox Press, 2007).

photo credit: ecstaticist via photopin cc

A Letter to Pride

Dear Friend,

As you know, making a good confession can be both surprisingly liberating and absolutely dreadful. What you did in opening up your heart and coming clean to me and, more importantly, the Lord will, I pray, be the doorway to something new. In your case--and I really believe this--a new way to live, to be human.

Let me just say quickly how proud I am. Of you of course. Your heartfelt confession to me that night under the stars was the seal--many, including myself, are thoroughly impressed by your growth the last 3 months. For I was struck, upon meeting you that first week, at how haughty you were, towering over others with your ego, shooting any passerby down with words and gestures if you felt wronged in anyway. And you were, according to yourself, more than justified in your actions, always demanding your way or making exit, ignoring family wishes, neglecting close friends, carelessly using girls as if some toy, grossly demeaning critics--you had plenty--crediting only yourself for your gifts and talents, in the acquisition of your local fame. Nearly every rotten thing I heard from people’s stories you confirmed. Your pride had taken you and hadn’t planned on relinquishing.

Yet after that night, hearing your vulnerability, my heart began to burn for you and your future. Thus this letter. It almost seems like perfect timing, but I have recently finished reading a book about the Passions and the Virtues and overcoming habitual sins that spring to life in an impassioned soul. Your love affair with pride shaped you into the sinner you were. It’s fruit is death, and you ate without restraint. But as we talked about, Pride, like the rest of the Passions, dies at Jesus’ cross.

We both know, though, that pride, after living with, in and through it for so long, isn’t just going to go away. We struggle. Even if it takes the rest of lives, we fight for what we believe to be the good life, the best life, the life Jesus has shown us, a life of, amongst other virtues, humility. Because we can't talk about the putting-to-death of some passion without talking about the acquisition of its opposite virtue. In our case (ours because I stand with you in this), we strive for Humility.

But in order to do this, and the main reason for this letter, I want to share with you the manifestations of pride--or how I have to come to know them from the book I mentioned, Defeating Sin: Overcoming our Passions and Changing Forever. Pride has many forms in many contexts and illuminating them here, I hope, will inspire deeper reflection and effective soul-searching. Introspection is paramount in these affairs.

And so, as a starting point, in what follows is author Joseph Huneycutt's thoughts on the manifestations of pride, summarized. Note the idiosyncrasies of each, which, by the way, extend beyond what is mentioned here--think about how else they could look. And reflect on how they have taken shape in you (I've bolded them below to help you see, remember and return to them).

Pride takes the form of irreverence, deliberately neglecting the worship of God and adequately expressing thanks and gratitude. 'Worship is a foolish enterprise, a wholly waste of time,' it declares. Also, pride can be sentimental in "being satisfied with pious feelings and beautiful ceremonies without striving to obey God's will."

Failing to bring to God the persons or causes that should stir in us compassion is pride as presumption. Presumption remains stagnant, fully content and satisfied in one's spiritual activities and achievements.

Pride can also crop up as over-sensitiveness, which, I'm sure you would agree, was prominent in you. As over-sensitiveness, pride is the "expectation that others will dislike, reject or mistreat us" and "timidity in accepting responsibility, or cowardice in facing difficulty or suffering. Surrender to feelings of depression, gloom, pessimism, discouragement, self-pity, or fear of death, instead of fighting to be brave, cheerful and hopeful."

Listen, these words, the quotes I'm pulling from this book should be read slow. Humility, what we want to cultivate in you, will recognize the wisdom of a spiritual man and take heed, but not with haste. And don't be discouraged if you see yourself in all these forms. The struggle is day by day, moment by moment. When you're ready, continue reading.

Disobedience is another. This is the "rejection of God's known will in favor of our own interests or pleasures." It could even be "slow and reluctant obedience." Disobedience would rather drown itself in its own affairs, leaving the scraps of its time, energy and interest for the things of God.

In the garden, Adam's impenitence was his refusal to face up to his sins and confess them before God. As well, pride sees no shame in justifying or discounting its sins as insignificant, natural or inevitable. Or perhaps it fears injury to reputation more than it feels sorrow for what its sins are in the eyes of God. Impenitence can even be doubt that God could forgive our sins.

Vanity, in our day and age, is accepted as a virtue in many circles, but it's surely an offspring of pride. Vanity credits itself instead of God for talents, abilities, insight, accomplishments, good works. It ignores indebtedness to others. "Undue concern over, or expenditure of time, money, or energy on looks dress, surroundings, etc., in order to impress others."

And finally pride can reveal itself as both arrogance--insisting others conform to our wishes or leadership, or accept our estimate of our self worth--and snobbery, "pride about race, family, position personality, education, skill, achievements, or possessions."

That's a ton I just dumped on you, I know. Pride is a diamond with many faces, one for every area of life. You and I both know the lure of it all, how it calls to us. My hope though is that reading these manifestations will pour water on its fire and even help you see it for what it is, a failed way to be human and an appalling stench in God's nostrils. My prayer is that you would come to hate it, but not as an end in itself. Ultimately, it's about loving God and striving to be fully human as Jesus was.

Take a few moments everyday, because pride will continue to visit as often as you don't want it to, to sit in prayerful silence. Give yourself to God. Entrust yourself to him and him alone, since he is the one who sanctifies you. Listen. Where is pride cropping up? Write down your thoughts. Take inventory on your heart and soul. And diffuse your pride more and more with the practice of humility. Because it isn't just about the killing of pride but the acquisition of humility, for this is Christ's way.

Blessings on Your Journey,

Nick

Notes

All quotations taken from, Joseph Huneycutt, Defeating Sin: Overing Our Passions and Changing Forever, (Salisbury, MA: Regina Orthodox Press, 2007).

December 14, 2012: Nourishment Amidst Tears

"My tears have been my food day and night..." - Psalm 42:3

Found on Jason Goroncy's post, here are two sermons--No, Not Now and A Voice in Ramah--written by retired seminary professor and United Church of Christ pastor J. Mary Luti. Hopefully not too soon, and since tears sustain for only so long, I found these words helpful and beautifully pieced together.

photo credit: Lieven SOETE via photopin cc

December 14, 2012

In yesterday's wake, I was speechless. Today: what the fuck?

The Passions and the Virtues

Reading Defeating Sin: Overcoming our Passions and Changing Forever has left me stricken with the thought, “There is much wrong with me” (on a rare occasion a book will leave a reader, in this case, disillusioned at the state of one's soul). Now, this isn’t to make little of the Holy Spirit’s sanctification in my life. I’m only recognizing the profound truth that the road stretches far in both directions. I’ve come a long way yet have much to travel. Indeed, for the rest of my life.

Joseph Huneycutt, the author, clergy at St. Joseph Orthodox Church, speaks and teaches on sin, the Passions and the Virtues, of which the latter two he thoroughly explores in his book.

Apparently, and I had no idea, the Passions are a big deal in Orthodox teaching, as became clear to me reading the scores of Orthodox teachers and theologians Huneycutt quotes throughout his discussion. The Passions, in some places known as the Seven Deadly Sins, are Pride, Anger, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Avarice and Sloth (or, for memory’s sake, PALE GAS). For me, the movie Seven immediately comes to mind, though not in this order.

A bit of the beginning of the book explores the labyrinths of a theology of the Passions, navigating through the implications of, both, God creating man and woman with the Passions and God creating them without them. In the former, the Passions, before Adam and Eve’s transgression against God in the garden, would have been pure with God-intended ends. After their sin, though, the Passions somehow “fell” and would no longer have taken after their proper God-intended ends. They would have been aimed “lower”, so to speak. In the latter, God creating man and woman without them, the Passions would have been a consequential fruit-bearing of that first sin.

Ultimately, for my ends, it matters little the position taken. What is obvious here, today, is the Passions, whatever they are and however they have come to inflict us with temptation, are real and powerful. But things mustn’t remain this way.

That which I found intriguing from the beginning was Huneycutt’s discussion of the Virtues, the opposites of the Passions. But what are the Virtues' place within such a discussion on overcoming sin? Simply, the center.

The argument here, implicit in the book, is that it isn’t enough to simply overcome the Passions. Employing the story of the Exodus, it seems strange to imagine the Israelites, as the slaves they were, being freed yet remaining in Egypt. The people were led from Egypt to the Promised Land. So: in dealing with the Passions and their manifestations (which is what I’m trying to actually get to), we are led, by God’s grace, from the Passions to the Virtues, Humility, Patience, Chastity, Contentedness, Temperance, Liberality and Diligence, the Promised Land of spiritual liberation and freedom.

When we wage war against the Passions, simultaneously, we are striving toward their opposite, the virtue we long for. In the battle against pride we strive for humility, against anger we strive for patience, against lust we strive for chastity, against envy we strive for contentedness, against gluttony we strive for temperance, against avarice we strive for liberality and against sloth we strive for diligence.

For me and my quest against the Passions, it has been helpful in thinking this way, that I’m going toward the Virtues--ultimately, Christ-likeness--as my end and goal, for Christ's glory. Not just the squelching of the fires of anger or envy but the acquisition of patience and contentment. And in all this fighting and striving, we are fighting the good fight of faith, conforming more and more to the image of God’s Son, moving from one glory to another, resulting in honor and praise to Him we trust and find our lives, Christ Jesus.

Recognize Adam: Me

Let it seep down, deep down to the marrow:

If any of us does not recognize that he is Adam, the one who sinned before God in Paradise, how can he recognize and think that the coming down of the Son and Word of God was for him?

-St. Symeon the New Theologian, The First-Created Man