Truth: Long, Dark Nights.

This Friday, the sun will set in Austin at 5:34 pm, and will not rise until 7:23 am on Saturday – roughly ten hours of daylight and fourteen hours of darkness. The longest, darkest night of the year.

We’re told through advertisements and tradition that during Christmas we are supposed to be happy, full of joy, and surrounded by family and friends. But many of us are dealing with other emotions: grief, loneliness, depression, disappointment, and anxiety. Many of us attempt to push down and put aside these feelings, trying to mask them over with the season’s joy and happiness. But the feelings are still there, still prevalent and intertwined in our lives.

For me, loneliness is one of the biggies in my life this time of year. Some people think that my loneliness means that I am alone. Sometimes that’s a good thing – we need to be alone, to be by ourselves and away from people, but that’s not loneliness, that’s solitude. Loneliness is deeper than that. Loneliness is darker than that. For me, it’s like sitting in a room at night by yourself and feeling like it will never become light again. It’s being invisible in a room full of people.

If you’re like me, the Christmas season’s loneliness can eat away at any sort of joy we may be able to muster up.  It’s difficult because this is a season of togetherness – family and friends coming together and eating big meals, opening presents, and playing games.  And we, the lonely, may be part of these gatherings, but we feel apart from them.  There is something deep within us that is hurt.  There is something deep within us that longs for true connection.

We can put on a happy face and carry on lively conversations, but we are split within our souls because we know deep down that there is something less than happy and lively.  We smile widely for the pictures, laugh loudly at the jokes, and carry on the conversations.  But within us is another person who wants to scream out for someone to truly notice us.

In truth, our loneliness comes out of a desire for an intimate relationship with someone else.  This intimacy isn’t sexual in any way – it’s much deeper than that.  Intimacy is closeness and familiarity.  Intimacy is private and personal.  Intimacy is vulnerability.  Our loneliness cries out for intimacy on an emotional and spiritual level that most take for granted.  Our loneliness desires fulfillment from being with other people on a soul level.

Sandburg’s words ring true for us, the lonely. We would suffer hunger, pain, want, shame, and failure all for intimacy – true intimacy – with another person.

As the darkest, longest night of the year comes upon us, let us continue to cry out to God, “I am lonely and troubled! Save me from my sadness!” May God hear our cries for comfort in our loneliness, grief, depression, disappointment, and anxiety. And may we find respite on this darkest night.

[Many churches offer Blue Christmas services which recognize and speak to these issues – you can do a quick search to find one locally. If you’d like to speak with someone about these feelings, you can contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. You’ll hear an automated message that will ask a few brief questions, then your call will be routed to a local Lifeline network center where your call will be answered by a trained worker who will listen to you, understand how your problem is affecting you, provide support, and get you the help you need.]

much love. sheth.

 

Truth: Learning.

Earlier this morning I finished my exam for World Religions and am officially finished with my third semester of seminary.  It was a difficult semester, to say the least, filled with stress, lack of sleep, approximately 7 pounds of coffee (pre-brewed), some poor food choices, internal (and external) debates, and plenty of tears.  Here’s what I learned:

I learned how money – and the lack thereof – can affect my life.  Through a series of unfortunate events, my student loans weren’t disbursed until mid-November.  While I was able to take a small advance on it, by the grace of God I was able to make it without.  I had my family and my church, who stepped in and helped me out when I needed it most.  I’m not out of the woods yet, but I have learned (again) to lean on God and trust that things will work out.  It’s difficult, stressful, and scary, but it will happen.

I’ve learned that Christian ethics is not so cut-and-dry.  While it may seem like the Christian answer is the right answer, why it is the right answer is much more difficult to verbalize.  It’s certainly easy to say It’s what Jesus would do, but why would he do it?  What compels that response?  What are the outcomes of such a response?  Is it the only answer, or are there others?  What if that answer harms others in the process?  It’s a difficult and challenging mindset when dealing with real-world issues.

I’ve learned that preaching is both one of my greatest joys and one of my greatest fears.  I love being able to share the word with others in that venue and it always challenges me to be my very best.  But it also scares the tar out of me!  There’s nothing more frightening than standing in front of a group of people, sharing personal stories, theology, and what the Spirit has placed in my hands, all the while attempting to make it sound pleasing.  It’s something I need to work on and it has exposed some of my weaknesses, but it’s an area where I know I’ll grow.

I’ve learned that the world’s religions are unique, impressive, and complicated.  It’s not so easy to explain the differences between Judaism, Buddhism, and Hinduism without having a lot of knowledge in all three religions.  While I know that my Christian beliefs don’t always make a lot of sense, it’s encouraging to know that every other religion is just as rich and complex.  There is beauty in all of them, there are places where we can find similarities, and we need to talk with one another more in order to drive out fear.

I’ve learned that I need to approach the bible with an open mind because there’s a lot that we don’t know. In my Mark exegesis course I was challenged by my professor who used ‘creative imagination’ in his work.  I appreciated learning this technique and how it can be a springboard to other ideas, but I also learned that I need to be careful with my imagination.  While the text has some holes that we can fill in, we need to be careful with what we’re using as filler.

Seminary is certainly one of the most challenging things I’ve been called toward, but it’s been worth it all.  I know I’m where I need to be, and I know that God is preparing me for something greater than I can imagine – the difficulties are temporary, but the reward is lasting.  May we learn more and more each day about our Creator, about one another, and about ourselves.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Like, Agape.

Apologies up front: I’m sorry this week’s post is short, but I have a ton of papers to write for school.  Maybe next week will be better…

I’m wrestling with what it means to love someone, specifically the agape love which extends to all people, whether family members or distant strangers.  But there’s a contradiction in my delivery. On one hand it’s really easy – I can love everyone around me without question, without reason, without expectation. On the other hand it’s really difficult – I can’t love everyone around me, all the time, without reason.

I fall headlong into agape because I’m called to do so – I believe God desires this from us in this world. We’re called to love the poor, the migrant, the queer; the rich, the patriot, the white; the happy, the injured, the vile.  It’s entirely possible to do this, and I’ve witnessed people who can do it without question.

But I also fall out of agape because I’m human and petty.  I mean, do I really have to love the smelly, the bothersome, the ugly?  Do I have to love the people I don’t get along with, the people I don’t agree with, the people who annoy the hell out of me?  Do I have to love chaotic middle school youth and snotty-Kleenex carrying old people?

As someone who frequently uses the phrase “I don’t have to like them, but I have to love them”, I find myself at an impasse.  Am I truly, completely loving the people I don’t like?  Am I doing as Jesus did those many years ago?  Am I seeing Jesus in the face of these people I love but don’t like? Could I do that to Jesus?  If I can’t love them and like them, should I love at all?

Perhaps this is the point of it all – I can’t do it alone.  I can’t possibly love the people I don’t like without God’s help.  I can’t possibly love the people I do like without God’s help.  Love is difficult – agape, pragma, or philia –it’s all challenging and frustrating at times, and entirely impossible without the help from my Creator.

God help us all to love as you have loved, forgive us when we fail, and give us mounds of grace as we try to figure it all out.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Consumed

Recently, I had a friend complain to me because I didn’t respond to her text message, and I had to be honest in saying that it got lost in the shuffle.  It’s a terrible excuse,but it’s the truth.  I have so many messages coming at me throughout the course of the day that I can read something, tell myself I’ll respond later, and then forget about it.  Because another message from someone else has come in.  And then another one.  And another.

I check Facebook and my three email accounts at least 20times a day.  I have Messenger, Snapchat, WhatsApp, Hangouts, Voice, and text messages calling out for me throughout the day.  A ‘ping’ here, a flash there – Sheth! Look at these messages now!  It’s urgent!  If I don’t reply immediately, my phone gently reminds me every 5 minutes that there’s someone awaiting my response.  Sheth! LOOOOOOK!

While this should make me feel important and needed – all these people and apps demanding my attention – it’s to the point that they’re nearly ruling my life.  These little applications have surreptitiously taken over how I live my life…truthfully, I feel like a slave to my phone.

I don’t do much of anything on Facebook.  I’ll post links to my blog, maybe make a humorous observation (they’re humorous to me), or maybe put up a photo of nature or my goofy face. This happens once, maybe twice, a week. The rest of the time I’m scrolling through gobbledygook (I don’t even ‘like’ that many things).  My time spent on other websites and apps consists of roughly the same effort – consuming and being consumed, but not contributing.

I definitely need to scroll through Facebook for the 14thtime today, but I don’t have the time to work on my world religions final.  I can check my burner email address four or five times today, but my schedule is packed to where I can’t possibly read a bit for my bible content exam.

I can reply to text messages and snaps a hundred times today,but I definitely don’t have time to make it to chapel.  I have to browse through r/dankchristianmemes for at least an hour, but I can’t possibly crack open the Bible because I don’t have the time.

How did my priorities flip like this?  When did it become so normal for me to be okay with this little screen taking up a large chunk of my time?  Why am I okay with doing this nonsense day after day?  It’s frustrating and discouraging, and still, I keep going back for more.

Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.  I’m half-tempted to delete some of them permanently.  I’m half-tempted to take a break from some of them.  I’m half-tempted to chuck my phone into the creek and walk away from it all.  Why do I do this?  Why do I feel like I need to check, to talk, to respond, to communicate, to consume?

I think it would do me some good to delete a few apps and have less communication points.  It would be useful for me to have less options, less ways, less information to get lost in.  It would be so nice to not have to feel the need to communicate…and look…and take in.  Maybe I should give myself the gift of deletion for Christmas and get rid of the things that are unnecessarily consuming me.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Belonging

The legendary coach of the Green Bay Packers, Vince Lombardi, became accustomed to fans seeking his autograph.  One day while eating at a public restaurant,he spotted a kid approaching his table.  Lombardi grabbed a menu and quickly scribbled his name.  When the kid got to Lombardi’s table, the coach handed him the autographed menu.  The youngster said, “I don’t need a menu. I just need to borrow your ketchup.”

Sometimes it’s good to be known and to have a place in this world; it feels good to be recognized.  On this Truth Tuesday I must admit that sometimes I don’t feel like I fit in – when I’m at the gym, or in a committee meeting full of professors, or when I read the Bible.  I don’t always connect to the words in this book or find where I fit in the passages.  It can be discouraging to read story after story and not be able to relate to any of it.  And this, coming from a male perspective, is eye-opening!  If I can’t always relate to the text, I can only imagine the discouragement that women, African-Americans, Hispanics, LGBTQ,or any non-white-males may feel when they read the Bible.

What if, as we read the Bible, we were able to finally see ourselves within the story?  What impact would that have in the way we read the Bible and the way we live our lives?  As we read the following passage, I invite you to do just that: have open ears and open hearts, and take a moment to find our place in the story. 

I’m going to be sharing the text from a very different translation – it’s called “Young’s Literal Translation” by 19th century author Robert Young, who, as the title suggests, wrote a very literal translation of the original Greek texts.  It may seem a little confusing in certain areas, and I have changed the ‘thee’ and ‘thy’ to ‘you’ and ‘your’ to make it a little more palatable.

“And again he entered into Capernaum after some days, and it was heard that he is in the house, and immediately many were gathered together, so that there was no more room, not even at the door, and he was speaking to them the word.  And they come to him, bringing a paralytic, carried by four.  And not being able to come near to him because of the multitude, they uncovered the roof where he was, and,having broken it up, they let down the couch on which the paralytic was lying.  And Jesus having seen their faith, said to the paralytic, “Child, your sins have been forgiven.” 

And there were certain scribes there sitting, and reasoning in their hearts, ‘Why does this one in this manner speak evil words?  Who is able to forgive sins except one –God?‘  And immediately Jesus, having known in his spirit that they reason in themselves, said to them, “Why these things reason you in your hearts?  Which is easier to say to the paralytic: the sins have been forgiven or to say, rise, and take up your couch and walk?  And that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on the earth to forgive sins,” (he said to the paralytic) “I say to you, rise, and take up your couch, and go away to your house.”  And he rose immediately, and having taken up the couch, he went out before all, so that all were astonished and do glorify God, saying: “Never in this manner did we see.'”

This translation may be a little difficult to understand because the grammar isn’t what we’re used to reading, but did you catch some of the cool things that are happening in this passage?  Yes, the miracle is cool (my east coast friend would say ‘wicked-awesome’), but I think there’s something cooler than that – did you notice how ambiguous the story was concerning the characters within it?  The only person identified by name is Jesus, but everyone else is unnamed and ungendered!

If you’ve ever heard this story before, think back on it and about the characters.  Had you always assumed the four who brought in the paralytic were male? Had you always imagined that the people who were listening to Jesus speak were primarily Caucasian?  Had you taken for granted that the scribes were men? Had you expected the paralytic to be an older man?  What ideas about the characters did you have, either when we read the text or that you already had in your mind?

What I love about this passage from Mark is the total ambiguity of the text.  When we look at the Gospel of Mark, it should be noted that we don’t have a clear understanding of who wrote the text.  The early church designated this as the Gospel of Mark, but within the text itself we have no name attached to who wrote it.  The name ‘Marcus’ was one of the most popular names in the Greek world at the time this work was written which leaves the doors wide open for authorship.  Even within the Bible itself, some scholars have said there are at least three different men named Mark.  While it could be said that the work is anonymous, we can safely say that it was written by a “Christian teacher who writes not as a charismatic individual but as a member of the community.”[1]  Who wrote these words?  A woman? An African?  A middle-eastern male?  Does this give us room to find ourselves in the story?

As we move into the passage itself, we can easily take up a variety of characters with whom we most relate.  Do you relate to the ones carrying the paralytic, or to the one being carried?  Do you envision yourself as one of the people in the crowd, and were you inside or outside of the house?  Were you one of the scribes, questioning whether or not Jesus had authority to say these words?  Were you the author of the Gospel of Mark,recording what was going on as you saw it happening?

Do you see the beauty of this passage when we insert ourselves into the text?  We are no longer bystanders reading some ancient text which has been passed down from age to age – no, we are now participants in the Word of God!  We are part of the story – we are part of God’s story!

If I’m to be perfectly honest with you, I have to admit that yes, the Bible was by-and-large translated by white men, who were more than likely attempting to maintain a patriarchal viewpoint.  But we don’t have to read it that way!  Instead, we should be reading it and experiencing it through our eyes – because that’s the way God desires us to listen and understand.  I should read it through my poor, white, male eyes.  You should read it through your powerful female eyes. You should read it through your queer eyes.  You should read it through your Hispanic eyes.

And we shouldn’t stop at our own vision and our own mindset.  What if we were to experience this passage through the eyes of someone else?  What if you were to read it as your co-worker? As your nanny?  As your mechanic?  As your mother?  As your neighbor?  How does this passage change for us when we look at it as someone else?

This passage from Mark is for us, it’s about us – it’s our story.  We are the paralytic needing God’s healing touch to our illnesses.  We are one of the four carrying those we care about to God. We are the crowd, witnessing God’s Word in this world.  We are the scribes, doubting in our hearts Jesus’ words.  We are the author, sharing what we see God doing in our world.

As we go out from this place, let us remember that this book – the Bible – is a book for all of us.  It is our story, our heritage, our witness to God’s promises. Let us find ways to see how we fit into this story and where God desires us to be within it.  May we see this book as our book.

much love. sheth.


[1] M. Eugene Boring, Mark: A Commentary (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2012), 20.

ξηρῶν – Dried Up

This bible passage from John 5 has been on my mind lately:

2 Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. 3 In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. 5 One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. 6 When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” 7 The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” 8 Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” 9 At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk. (John 5:2-9, NRSV)

In verse 3, the translators chose to use the word ‘paralyzed’ for ξηρῶν (xeron). I find this word choice interesting because the Greek ξηρῶν is primarily used to describe something that is dried up, i.e. grass, trees, land, etc. Why did the translators go with ‘paralyzed’ in this instance? Granted, bodily limbs that are ‘dried up’ may be paralyzed, but still…could the author have been up to something else?

 

I wonder if the author of John was pointing toward people who were ‘dried up’ in life. Did Jesus see people who were indeed blind and lame, but also those who were exhausted from living? Were there people in his vision who were worn out and tired; ones who had tried and tried, but still had come up empty, resigned to laying by this pool in the hope of a miracle? Was this man at the pool, wanting of being healed from his ἀσθένεια – his lack of strength, his illness, his dried-upness?

I’ve had moments of my own life when I’ve been ξηρῶν – dried up. I’ve had stretches when I’ve been in deserts of my life and all that was within me had slowly dried out, withered up, and I was left with nothing but dust. I’ve had times when it was all I could do to get out of bed, let alone function as if nothing was wrong. Depression and life’s circumstances have beaten me down more than once to the point that I’ve been dried up. I’ve been where this man is…perhaps you have, too.

What does it mean to us if, in this passage, Jesus is reaching out to someone who was dried out like some of us are? While Jesus dealt with many physical illnesses, we don’t see many moments when he handled people’s emotional illnesses. What does it mean to witness Jesus not only healing the blind and the lame, but those who are dried up emotionally and spiritually?

It gives me hope that God sees my dried out moments of life. It gives me confidence that God can heal my infirmities even if they aren’t visible. It gives me a promise that God won’t look past me as my life lingers in these moments of dryness.

I pray that God continues to heal this world, and I will rest in the knowledge that our Creator can reach into even the driest of places of our lives and bring waters of life and restoration.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Process.

Seminary is getting the better of me.  I’m taking four classes – that’s why I’m here in Texas – but there’s all this other ‘stuff’ that I have to do.  I have to do my jobs to make money.  I have to figure out where I’m going to do my SPM (internship in a church).  I have to figure out how to do a CPE (internship in a hospital).  I have to study for the BCE (Bible content exam).  I have to begin to prepare for ordination exams.  I have to move into the next step in the ordination process.  I have to think about what I’m going to do when I finally graduate.  I have to maintain friendships, relationships, and keep both my church and CPM (Committee on Preparation for Ministry) aware of my status.  Oh, and try to pray, worship, and honor God at some point – that’s why I’m here on this planet.

It’s daunting for all of us in seminary…and those who say it isn’t are lying through their teeth.  Many of us have cried – literally cried – because of the weight of this burden.  We don’t know why there are so many steps.  We don’t know what to do next.  We don’t know if we’re going to make it.  We don’t know if it’s worth it.  We don’t know if there will be some respite from the onslaught of pressure to get it done.

The weight of the education is enough to challenge anyone.  We’re wrestling with foreign languages, heady theological concepts, moral and ethical scenarios.  We’re having old ways of thinking reluctantly swept from our minds and replaced with newer, more difficult ideas.  Day in, day out, we’re being challenged intellectually and spiritually.

 

Before us there is a process that many of us have to go through, and just like Churchill’s description of Russian action prior to WWII, “It’s a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, but perhaps there is a key.”  We’re given glimpses of this key – just a quick peek now and then – and immediately pushed to move forward.  The steps required, as well as the reasoning for this process, are written in some ancient tome held in Louisville, Kentucky.

Placed on top of all of that is the future stuff – what are we going to do with all this newly-gained knowledge?  How are we going to apply it?  How are we going to change the world?  While our families and churches have sent us here via a calling from God, there is a certain pressure to hurry up and finish in order to get out and make the world a better place.  We are an investment and people are demanding their due dividends.

While I understand the need for pastors in churches, and that we shouldn’t be going through this process for a long, long time, I feel like putting the brakes on things and slowing it down a bit.  It’s becoming too much.  It’s not easy.  It’s not helpful.  It’s not enjoyable.  While I’m continually hearing about discernment, calling, and vocational path, I am not able to even take a moment to understand, discern, or even look to see if I’m on the right path.

While classes are a bit easier and I’m getting into the rhythm of school, theology, and the academic-side of things, the process of it all is becoming more and more unbearable.  I know I’ll survive…I know it’s part of the course…I know this too shall pass…but it’s damn difficult.

My God, grant me peace, hope and understanding of this enigma-mystery-riddle.  God give me a vision of the bright future ahead!  My God, give me more trust that it will work.  And help me to rest.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Communication Breakdown.

My Brain-and-Mouth connection doesn’t always work right.  Usually Mouth gets scared:

Brain: Okay Mouth…let’s say this: “I don’t feel like that’s a good idea for you, Bill!”
Mouth: Something is coming from Brain, but I can’t quite make it out.  Something about what Bill is about to do…I think I’m supposed to warn him not to do this, but I’m not sure.  I’m not going to say anything and see what happens…
Me: …

Sometimes, though, Mouth decides it’s best to go off script:

Brain: Okay Mouth…let’s say this: “I don’t feel like that’s a good idea for you, Bill!”
Mouth: That won’t get the point across, Brain.  We’re going to say this…
Me: “Bill, that’s stupid.  This is stupid.  You’re stupid.”

While I can try to blame my communication breakdowns on this faulty connection, the truth is that sometimes I just say the wrong things.  I don’t try to say the wrong things, but somehow they just come out.  What I’m thinking isn’t always expressed very well.  Sometimes I’m guilty of poor communication.

Recently I got into a heated discussion with my girlfriend over a benign topic.  She asked my opinion on her creation of a Facebook group and who should be invited to join.  She said one thing.  I heard something else.  I replied with a different thing.  She heard something else.  And that was it – we were arguing.  And then both of us stopped the discussion by refusing to talk about it, “Ugh…whatever.”

 

This small communication breakdown became a huge source of tension for us and our relationship.  And here’s what was stupid about our argument: we were actually talking about the same thing.  We both completely agreed with one another, but we weren’t able to communicate it well enough for the other to understand, so we sat in bitterly-angry silence.

On this day, the “Tuesday next after the first Monday in the month of November,” millions across the nation are going to vote on a myriad of issues and candidates.  While the past few months (and years) have been filled with screaming matches, accusations, angry silences, and many an “Ugh…whatever”, I can’t help but wonder how much of this has been caused by a lack of good communication.  I wonder how many people have heard one thing but perceived it as something else.  I wonder how many have said something but didn’t mean it that way.  I wonder whether we really disagree this much, or we just don’t communicate well enough.  Are we really this divided, or are we just not communicating well?  [I fully acknowledge that some politicians – on both sides – have said some pretty crazy things that make me ashamed and discouraged.  This is not poor communication; it is poor judgement, poor morals, and poor ethics]

In all the books and seminars on relationships I’ve read and attended, the one thing that is always mentioned as being key to successful relationships (romantic or platonic) is good communication.  This small thing that we rarely think about is huge!  How much different would my life be if I were a better communicator?  How much better would the world be if we were able to communicate well AND listen well?  How much closer would we be to the Kingdom of God if we were able to speak more effectively?

My friends, may we have a fully functioning Brain-and-Mouth connection.  May we all work towards better communication, and God, may we be more compassionate and forgiving when we all fail at this.

much love. sheth.

 

P.S. – here’s a great article on these breakdowns and how we can prevent them

Truth: Re-Formation.

In the fall of 1517, Martin Luther had some issues with The Church and wrote to his bishop – he was sure to include with his letter a copy of his now-famous 95 Theses.  Luther’s dissertation protested against the Catholic church and clergy selling plenary indulgences and began a movement to try Luther for heresy which eventually ended in his excommunication from the church.

Last year, many churches and organizations celebrated the 500th anniversary of this Reformation; on my own campus we had a celebration with academic speeches and a fair where we could experience the Reformation in all its glory.  Each year there is a dedicated ‘Reformation Sunday’ that many mainline protestant churches celebrate year after year which falls on the last Sunday of October.

Being on a seminary campus, the word ‘reformation’ is used rather frequently, especially in the fall when the church history course is being taught.  While the subject matter causes intentional dialogue (and some heated debates), it eventually goes to the wayside as new topics and ideas are piled on our plates.

This Reformation thing intrigues me on a personal level because when I stop to think about it, how often do I re-form myself?  While it’s good to maintain a certain presence and to be comfortable with who I am, is who I am fully who I can be?  How often do I take a good, hard look at myself and acknowledge the things that are not good in my life, and how often do I change or remove them?  If I’m honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I don’t re-form myself as much as I should.

I don’t like change – once I find something I’m comfortable with, I’ll stick with it, even if it’s not the best for me.  Reform is uncomfortable.

I don’t know how to change – even when I recognize something in my life that needs changing, I usually don’t know where to begin.  Reform is daunting.

I don’t want to change – some of the things about me that need re-form are things I really like about myself.  Reform is challenging.

I don’t want to admit that I need to change – it’s tough work emotionally and spiritually to say there are things about me that need changed.  Reform is agonizing.

Martin Luther knew the importance of reform – he knew that the church needed reformation, but he also knew that people needed reformation: “…we are not yet what we shall be, but we are going toward it; the process is not yet finished, but it is going on; this is not the end, but it is the road…”  Reformation of the self is not working to change what is good in our selves, instead, it is to improve on what is there, and to change/remove what is bad in our selves.

This re-forming of our self is hard work, but it is worthy work.  We’re meant to be so much more than who we are and we’re meant to live an exemplary life.  We’re called to be the people God desires us to be, and to get there requires constant reformation.  May God work in us to begin our own re-formation: may we recognize what needs to change in our own lives and may we embrace those changes.

much love. sheth.

Truth: A Lone.

As I was growing up in the 1980’s and 90’s both of my parents held down jobs to raise our family in the unsteady economy.  My mom often worked a normal eight to five job in an office while my dad, a self-employed contractor, had a varying schedule and could be gone for eight hours a day or weeks at a time.  Because of my parents’ work schedules, more often than not my brother and I would arrive to an empty house and had to fend for ourselves with the television as our supervisor.

The six channels we could pull in via the antenna provided my brother and I with more than enough entertainment.  We would watch re-runs of Knight Rider, Magnum P.I., The Greatest American Hero, The Incredible Hulk, and Highway to Heaven.  The main characters were individuals going through life alone while fighting evil corporations, reuniting families, and making a small difference in the world.

As an introvert, I admire these individuals for being the lonesome drifters that they were.  Being alone is attractive to me because I have no one to answer to, I have no one depending on me, I have no one to disappoint me and I won’t disappoint anyone else.  I can go at my own pace, do what I want, and not answer to anyone.  As I grew up, I suppose I took these lessons I saw to heart, and while I didn’t drift too often, I was good at the lonesome part.  I tended to keep to myself and live life alone.

There are times when being alone can become lonely, and there have been more than a few times in my life when I have needed friends or, at the very least, an extra pair of hands to help me.  I needed friends when I was battling depression, when my grandma passed away, and on more than one lonely Friday night.  I needed people when I was leading twenty-two middle and high school students on a youth retreat and when I was discerning my call to seminary.  While it’s one thing to be an introvert, it’s another thing to try to be some ill-conceived lonesome drifter.

While a person can do many things alone, it’s not always the best road to take, and even my T.V. heroes had sidekicks.  Despite my childish thinking, those lonesome drifters always had someone they could lean on, depend on, and they knew that they were not completely alone.   That’s the lesson I should have taken from my hours of viewing: we can’t do things alone and do them well.

 

I need others.  It’s difficult for me to admit this, but it’s the truth.  I need people to help me with life.  I need people to keep me accountable.  I need people to encourage me.  I need people to challenge me.   Without people around me to prod me on I become still and stagnant, and I begin to deteriorate.  I need people to do life with me and help me become the best me I can be.

We need one another, and there’s no way to make it in this world.  I hope and pray that we all can find our sidekicks, our compadres – the Mark Gordon to our Jonathan Smith.  May God open our eyes, clear our minds, and make room in our hearts for others to join us on this life’s journey.  And may we look for others to join with and make this journey a little less lonesome.

much love. sheth.