Paradise Lost

There was a time when I felt like everything could be sussed out. That if I try hard enough, anything could be figured out. I just need to find out and do my research and all that. Of course, that belief was quickly put to rest. Or rather, it was a myth quickly dispelled. Although I don't necessarily think that way anymore, I still however believe that there's a lot we can find out if we care to try.


You see, it goes without saying that what we know more about impacts what we are concerned about. When you learn more about the injustice done to children who born into prostitution, it is hard not to feel a certain level of sadness and horror inside. One cannot help but ask "why?" or at least pause for a moment in quiet sobriety.


In the Life of the Beloved, Nouwen speaks of all human beings having "deep inner memories of paradise lost". That deep inside, we once held something that we all have lost and are now searching for. How would we crave love, if we never tasted it? How could we possibly conceive of the concept of right or wrong, if we never had a sense for it? In essence, perhaps humankind can only look for something that it has experienced before to some degree. I cannot yearn for home if I don't have the slightest idea of what home is. You cannot understand what happiness is if you had no prior contact with the notion or imagery of it. Yes, perhaps this is true.


If so, I wonder, in our empathy for others, the anger against the injustice that we hear of - how much of that is conditioned by our own experiences of how justice should be. It's unavoidable, but it's also a projection based on our perception of reality. I am in no way downplaying the importance of empathy! I am merely seeing from an angle that may show more of how the way we respond to others' troubles and hardships is very much dependent on our own experiences rather than those with whom we empathize. Because we have experienced the 'opposite', it pains us to see others go through it. Because we have known unconditional love, we cannot bear to know of a friend who thinks his or her life is a waste and is dispensable. Because we have seen the amazingness of God's grace in the giving of his Son and the forgiveness of our sins, surely it is too hard to sit and watch a loved one suffer in self-rejection and guilt and shame.


Do we each have a reclaimed slice of paradise once known to humanity that now remains non-existent in so many people's lives? Do each of us carry this slice of paradise lost that can speak to another person's deep inner memories, like a missing piece to the half-completed puzzle? Do I, being the Beloved that I am and in my journey of Becoming this Beloved, get to reclaim more and more of this paradise that we all somehow lost, and as such get to offer to others through my gift of Belovedness? If yes, that's a reason to wake up every morning with a song in my heart and a smile on my face...to think that simply in my receiving and giving love, I am part of reconstructing this paradise. One that we once knew, a very long time ago, the "deep inner memories" of which are betrayed by our inner yearnings for its very taste.


Tomorrow I shall continue with my daily reading and reflection...as Nouwen goes on to talk about Becoming the Beloved, in being TAKEN, BLESSED, BROKEN and GIVEN.

and then the Becoming.

"From the moment we claim the truth of being the Beloved, we are faced with the call to become who we are."


This statement resonates so much with what I have heard and said so many times over. It's a question of identity. A person who is of royal lineage but doesn't know it lives quite differently from another who has royal blood and knows it. That person carries himself or herself with an aura not like other people. There's just something about him/her.


Question: when you know you are Beloved, how do you carry yourself? It's one thing to know your identity. It's another to have it manifested in a tangible way. Like, it's oozes out of your life it's hard to miss. To claim the full truth of your Belovedness - would that mean that it surely shows in your daily existence? Is not Becoming the Beloved a sure part of Being the Beloved? To let this truth become "enfleshed" in all that you say, think and do, rather than it being merely a beautiful thought or a blurry imagination, doesn't it mean you're called not only to BE but to BECOME who you know you are?


Know who you are, and walk in the knowledge of that.
You're chosen.
You're royalty.
You're holy.
You're a person who belongs to God.


Into chapter 2 of Nouwen's book. I'm finding it so hard not to rush through the whole book. Letting each page sink in. It's so true! I cannot think "I'm Beloved" without responding to the call of Becoming. Yet, responding to this call is too much and takes a lifetime...but it doesn't make sense to have it any other way! Remember, I am only able to give this gift of Belovedness to others inasmuch as I have myself experienced it. It's so exciting to see someone realize he/she is so loved, I want them to really live it! And this means me, too. I am reminded today, as Nouwen provokes me, that Experiencing BEING the Beloved is not possible unless I embark on the journey of BECOMING:

• To claim my Belovedness, which demands that I enflesh all the realities of this truth from heaven to shed light on my ordinary, mundane and occasionally tiresome existence. 
• To not only say yes to it once, but over and over so that there is a sense of becoming more and more what I am in the process of grasping. Painful, long process. 
• To allow myself grace for my forgetfulness, but always return to my identity that tells me, "You are and always will be the Beloved."
  

May the engraving of this identity never end! The more I live it out, the more I know what it really should look like.

You are the Beloved

It is now the holiday break before Fuller's winter quarter begins. Reading Nouwen's Life of the Beloved. What a joy to spend this time of year reflecting on this truth - a truth that is no less profound as it is simple.

BEING THE BELOVED is how this gift from Nouwen begins, a response to a request from his friend that he speaks of this God he so loves from his heart in terms anyone can understand. And I am captured by the weight of all that he wants to say to this friend: You are the Beloved. To be heard with all the tenderness and force that love can hold, the words that ought to reverberate "in every corner" of our beings - we are the Beloved. I struggle to imagine that this is something anyone can understand, if you can grasp the irony of this truth. It is so often far beyond what we can comprehend or dare believe.

Are we? The Beloved, you say?

Every corner of our beings is stricken with an unshakeable need to be loved, a need so deprived even by ourselves. Deprivation, starvation, malnourishment. We're constantly feeding on the prove-yourself-worthy diet because what we see when we look at our reflection is "I'm never good enough, beautiful enough, loveable enough, capable enough, strong enough." Everything we do that brings no satisfaction we seem to keep doing as though we can find fulfillment when we try often and try hard. Isn't it so true that beneath it all, our facade, our facemasks, we cover something so subtle and pervasive we cannot recognize it? Self-rejection in all its darkened glory, staring us in the face. Staring that comes from the eyes of those from whom we feel disapproval, disappointment, discontentment. Whether it is truly them or the self-condescending, self-deprecating voice within ourselves.

This is something so basic that really hit me as I read on: I could be an arrogant prick or someone you label as having low self-esteem - both are only indicators of what truly lies beneath. Self-rejection. How so? It manifests itself in both ways, doesn't it? We often say that pride, greed, popularity, fame, lust, or power are  problems we must deal with. But how are these seductive to one who has no need to prove him or herself worthy? Are these not trappings for the one who thinks these are solutions for the inadequacy he/she feels? So we put ourselves higher than others so people cannot see how we really are inside. Or we put ourselves so low people cannot criticize us anymore than we already do ourselves. We run from that whisper to know we are Beloved. We don't hear it amidst our self-creation, self-dependence, self-sufficiency. Self-protection. But it's really self-rejection. We reject that we can just be who we are, no more and no less.

For today, this chapter suffices. Something our malnourished beings need to chew on and digest, that is far more enriching than that diet of unworthiness we feed ourselves: You are the Beloved. Regardless of your success or failure, your past or present. A Belovedness that began even before you were born, to be perfected for eternity when death's final blow beseeches you home to your Belover. And I love the way Nouwen phrases it for our practice, that our giving to each other the gift of our Belovedness is what we should be about. Inasmuch as I have been able to claim this Belovedness for myself only am I able to give that gift to others. I definitely need to practice this...so help me, God.

Safe in Your Arms - A Reflection

'Cause nothing can move me
The mountains crumble at your feet
I'm safe in your arms
In your arms

This stanza is from a song by an amazing worship leader whom I love. For a long time, I had liked it - something about it always moves my heart. This morning as I huddled with my guitar in the warmth of my lil' room, with my windows all fogged up from the cold, wet air outside, I sang it again like so many other times - but I felt something different.

The mountains crumble at your feet...

You know, reflection is a tricky thing. Think 'mirror'. Without light, you can hardly see anything. You need a source of light somewhere near you. Near enough to have light rays bounce off the glass surface, like a prism, and colors come in to play. Or imagine a desk lamp right next to your laptop in front of you, adjustable for wherever you want more light to fall. On your notes. On your keyboard. On your book.

But have you ever pointed a spotlight right into a mirror? It gets too strong you have to turn away. Just a bit of light, and you get enough illumination in the darkness. Too much light, and you have to turn away 'cause it hurts to look into it.

So I reflect.

I like light. I like being able to see. I like illumination at the right spots, and beauty that comes from sparkles, glitter and brilliance. I like painting with light - photography. I like the dance that a candle flame does when a slight breeze slips in to its space. Question: does light ever fall on the wrong places? We may not like what it reveals or illuminates...

I reflect this morning on the fact that what I consider "mountains" in life - they can crumble. In fact, they don't just crumble, but they crumble at the feet of my Mountain-Maker. It hurts as I step into the light of this truth. Because what becomes highlighted is my self-reliance and independence and prayerlessness. I move from the shadows into the spotlight of truth. It feels almost unbearable to come to terms with our humanness sometimes (or should I speak only for myself, and say 'my humanness'?) I'm faced with this realization that I've been wanting mountains to crumble at MY feet, not Yours, Lord. They're not even MY mountains, so how dare I? At that, I turn away, afraid to look. My eyes squint in a pained frown, because my heart still faces You, though my eyes are turned away. God, Your truth drowns my heart in too bright a light, yet it refuses to blink.

'Cause nothing can move me

Sometimes, in moments like this, I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my lips. What can be said? What can be prayed? Except...it is in verbal silence, where the heart remains unsilenced, the unspoken is unspoken no more. And I ask without words, "Would You have the mountains crumble at Your dear feet, my Lord? I cannot have it any other way, or I would die trying."

I want to KNOW I'm safe in the arms of my Maker.
Though I know, I want to KNOW.
Not only shall my ears hear of You Let my eyes see You also.
The eyes of my heart.
The eyes of my heart.
The eyes of my heart that refuse to be blinded by Your light.

Reflection, with You, is undeniable beauty,
I want my independence, God, to flee;
Today I come and fall at Your feet,
Where me and these mountains meet.
May Your brilliance crumble them all,
Let them crumble, Lord, let them fall.
Oh, but though I too crumble, let me remain humbled, chided,
In Your arms where I am sheltered, forever carried.

I'm safe in Your arms
Safe in Your arms...

Does God snicker?

We may not often catch ourselves thinking this, a common but subtle perception of God: He doesn't really care when I make any wrong decisions. To him, what will be, will be. When I seek guidance, he gives some clues, but once I make a decision he has no qualms of letting me go through the consequences of that decision by myself, left to my own devices.

There are more than one thing I am pondering about this perception:

1) The idea of wrong decisions sometimes cause us to live under a cloud of fear and doubt. Oh my gosh! Made a wrong move. It's doom and gloom from hereon. There's no remedy, I'm finished. Shame on me! My future's ruined. Why am I not holy enough? Why did I not pray enough? How come I can't seem to put my finger on his perfect will?

2) What will be, will be? I've always hated that song Que Sera Sera (yes, I know, 'hate' is a very strong word). Did God let Joseph have a life of 'what will be will be'? Let nature run its course? At which point did God choose to turn his brothers' evil meant to harm him for good, from which he ended up saving not only his own family, but an entire nation, from famine? The bottomline is that God showed up! Then there's Esther, David, Jacob, Abraham - who all found that the dreams they lost to failure and/or foolishness were redeemed in the place of recognizing God is a purposeful and sovereign God who can work things out for good.

3) We're super-scared when stakes are high. Small decisions deceive us into a sort of complacency in how we ask for counsel. But big ones? Ooh...scaweeeee. God, help! I suppose it's true, yes, that certain decisions are not as critical as others. Either way, though, would you say that you and God can make both big AND small decisions together? Sure. Perhaps the fear of making a wrong decision is, by our categories, greater with bigger decisions. I think whatever type of decision ought to be a partnership between you, God, and others who give wise counsel. And the imagery of how one discerns the most right decision is not some mystical, pie-in-the-sky type thing, confirmed with an audible voice (although that is not difficult at all when you involve God in the process). Any decision is a partnership decision - all things concern God and what he means to you.

4) In thinking that God leaves us to our decisions, especially when you are in even the slightest doubt that you may not have 'heard' or sensed rightly, there is a sense of abandonment. What a cage in our minds! But perhaps you do this without realizing? Like our parents, leaders or friends, we feel like God says to us about our decisions, "well, you made your bed, so you lie in it." You deserve it. You chose the path, so what happens as a result you have only yourself to blame. Or that person whose advice you wanted to take. Or that incident you selected to be classified as a confirmation. I can't help but picture Jacob, whom God wrestled with all night through. It's almost like, "Jacob, I wanna be involved in your life more than you know. I want you to know my purposes for your life and those you love cannot be thwarted. I am here to make sure that you know it is within my power to show up in your life, In fact, I'll leave you with a limp just so you never forget - I've got your back."

So maybe my pondering today leads me to interpret Jacob's experience this way: God does care whenever you make any decision. You may think your decisions are not always the most right ones, but he always - ALWAYS - goes through the consequences of your decisions WITH you, i.e. he does not snicker at you from afar and maybe stretch out a hand only when you yell for help. You are not left to your own devices (thank God!), or you would have long ceased to exist.

To take it further, maybe what we think is right or wrong in terms of a decision isn't the same as how God thinks. In our moments of seeking resolution or direction, no concern, however valid, ought to cloud your trust that He has got your back. Whatever you decide, he will never leave you nor forsake you. He is always near, an ever-present help. He enjoys you. He rejoices in your decisions every time, when your heart intended to hear and obey him. Perhaps it is safe to say, in this context, that there cannot be a 'wrong' decision because your heart was right at that point of decision. Perhaps it is safe to say, thus, that you cannot fail, you can't possible fail! In fact, you will succeed 100%, not because you are the most awesome decision-maker in the whole wide world (who is?!) but that you are the most childlike in faith and desperately reliant on him to help you go through life.

Stop for a moment on the phrase 'you have only yourself to blame". What does that mean? Do you blame yourself when you encounter difficulty following your decision? But do you take credit when a decision goes so well that everything seems to 'fall' into place? Maybe by believing that when something goes wrong it's all your fault means that when something goes well you think all credit should go to you. Would it not be true that thankfulness is due, NO MATTER HOW life turns out? Worship is due. Glory to God is due.

In the quiet, in the stillness I know that you are God.
In the secret of your presence I know there I am restored...
...in the chaos, in confusion I know you're sovereign still.
In the moment of my weakness you give me grace to do your will...
...now I live to bring you praise...all my delight is in you Lord...

P/S: So, does God snicker?