A swirl, an ebb and flow, a blend of joy and sorrow. Reds and golds and browns and the air that freezes in my mouth. The first sharp intake of breath.
Broken fingers painting pictures of beauty and love out-poured.
He speaks of things we do not understand but his eyes are bright and bottomless. The sky inverted and the sun upon his face. Earth upon his fingertips.
The water swirls and calls the names of loved ones. The rock splits and the world is shaped anew.
And I am not afraid. No, I am not afraid to laugh or to weep. To live and to love. At times limping, at times failing, yet ever assured of identity and the company I keep.
This then is the life abundant. Reaching for heaven and plumbing the depths of hell. Embracing light and darkness. Confident, whether I can see the steps that follow or whether I’m stepping into the unknown.
Come alive, come alive beautiful one.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
In Christ
I was reading something one of my brothers wrote and I was struck by what he said. Drawing on theological tradition he looks back to the idea of original sin and affirms that hubris was the motivating factor. It was because Adam and Eve sought to be like God that they became sub-human. Motivated by pride they sought to elevate themselves and instead found themselves fallen. Keeping this in mind as a warning my brother than suggests that as Christians we must beware of committing the same sin of pride. Let us not presume to be Christ and bring salvation to the world or we may discover that we are far less than Christ and have brought destruction to the world. Therefore, my brother concludes, we should focus on being with Christ. In humility we must journey in love relationship with Jesus and therefore avoid the pitfalls of hubris.
Now this is an intriguing application of the Fall narrative and it certainly avoids one extreme but I fear that it gravitates too far to the other extreme and (as extremes tend to do) ends up being too simplistic. Here it is important to maintain biblical thinking and language. What sort of language does the New Testament apply to a Christian's relation to Jesus? I would argue that the appropriate term is not a call to be Christ, nor is it a call to be with Christ but rather it is a call to be in Christ. Indeed, many prominent New Testament scholars argue that being “in Christ” is the central theme of Paul's entire theology (cf. NT Wright and many others, especially those belonging to the “New Perspectives on Paul”). To use the language of “in Christ” avoids both extremes will providing a more nuanced (and complicated) understanding of Christian identity. To say that believers are Christ can result in the hubris that my brother mentions. However, to simply say that believers journey with Christ can completely lose track of the new creation that Christ has accomplished and the in-breaking of the kingdom that began at Pentecost. One side is sinfully prideful, the other sinfully humble. Indeed, contemporary Western Christians seem to more often commit the sin of humility. No, you are not a sinner saved by grace, you are a new creation.
To be in Christ picks up on the strengths of both extremes without committing the mistakes of either. Thus, there are times when believers are so intimately linked with Jesus' mission, suffering and glory that it is hard to discern between the two. However, there is also a clear demarcation between Jesus, the Lord of creation, and his disciples. In pursuing Christian identity we need to start with an understanding of ourselves as in Christ and work out from there. Together we will discover how being in Christ impacts all areas of our living and when it is appropriate to speak of ourselves as Christ and when it is appropriate to speak of ourselves with Christ – always keeping the central motif in mind.
Flashes of Conversation
“You see that's when I realised… we don't just love even though we know others will disappoint us. We love knowing that we will disappoint others.”
– JS
“Do I believe in universalism? Do you want my honest answer or my sugar-coated answer? …Okay, well, I think God fucks us over so much in this life that we better all be getting something good after it all ends. I mean look at what's going on is Asia. 150,000 people just died… because of a fucking wave. And really that's just the latest in a string of rather atrocious events that have occurred on this planet. And I want to believe in universalism but I can't make it match with the Bible. I'm trying hard to reconcile the God of the Bible, the God of history, with the God I see in Jesus. I like the God that is revealed in Jesus but he doesn't seem to align with the rest of the Bible – or with experience. Experience seems to align with a God who doesn't mind indulging in a good ol' kill-fest every now and again. I don't know… I sort of feel like I'm in a battle for my life and I hope to win but I don't know if I will.”
– MT
“You are different though. Your faith actually does dictate everything about your life. And that does make you different than most Christians who think it determines their live but keep on living like everybody else. Your relationship with Jesus determines your school. It determines what the career you're looking for. Even when it comes to loving people, you love them through Jesus.”
– TT
Vive La Revolucion
On December 27, 2004 TIME Magazine declared the recently re-elected President of the United States of America to be 2004's Person of the Year. The subtitle of the December 27th issue stated, “George W. Bush – American Revolutionary”. Bush Jr. has joined the ranks of such all American heroes as George Washington. As Time notes, “Eagles rather than doves nestle in the Oval Office”. Apparently Bush Jr. is not simply a hawk, he is the personification of American splendour. As Nancy Gibbs and John F. Dickerson write:
For sharpening the debate until the choices bled, for reframing reality to match his design, for gambling his fortunes – and America's – on his faith in the power of leadership, George W. Bush is TIME's 2004 Person of the Year…In his pursuit of a second term, Bush was just as radical as he was in his conduct of a pre-emptive war. As a politician, he showed the same discipline, secrecy and never he demonstrated in his conduct as President. So he emerges with his faith only deepened in the transformational power of clear leadership. Whether or not the election actually yielded a mandate for his policies, he is sure to claim one for his style, because he stuck to it against all odds, much advice and the lessons of history. And on that choice, at least, the results are in.
Now whether those results are actually in as genuine reflection of the American public or whether the Republicans “stole another election” is the topic of a more serious debate than Gibbs and Dickerson suggest(See Lewis H. Lapham's article, “True Blue” in HARPER'S, January 2005). Regardless, it is clear that the major media pundits are rejoicing in Bush Jr.'s re-election and portraying him as a bold, clear-eyed visionary who has triumphed because he is both strong and good.
TIME's portrayal of George W. Bush as a leader first and foremost is appropriately flushed out be Andrew Sullivan's essay on the final page entitled “Year of the Insurgents”. Drawing from the American Heritage Dictionary Sullivan defines “insurgency” as “a condition of revolt against a recognised government that does not reach the proportions of an organized revolutionary government and is not recognised as belligerency” (Sullivan does not include the italicised words, presumably because the fuller definition does not fit the profile of insurgents he is seeking to present). Thus, Sullivan concludes that insurgents are about sniping, not governing. Given the chance to exercise true leadership they prefer to stay on the margins. Besides, he says, they don't really expect victory. They engage in “a war that is not a real war, a halfway inconclusive revolt without end, a battle of attrition that polarizes as it goes essentially nowhere.” Thus, while insurgents from Mel Gibson, to Iraqi “rebels” in Fallujah, to Jon Stewart engage in infectious but ineffective revolts George W. Bush – that blessed American revolutionary and visionary – is the only true winner. And, TIME Magazine seems to suggest, we should be quite thankful for that.
Unfortunately Sullivan does not create an accurate portrait of insurgents (not that he seems concerned to do so) but only achieves a caricature. Looking at other definitions of insurgency (“an organised rebellion aimed at overthrowing a constituted government through the usage of subversion and armed conflict” – Merriam-Webster; “active revolt” – Oxford) one realises the the key to the definition of insurgents is not their aversion to government or leadership but their active resistance to the government as it currently exists. The American Heritage dictionary adds the clause about insurgents lacking organised government points to the fact that insurgencies are grass-roots movements that are still in the process of gathering numbers and organising themselves under structures of leadership. It does not mean that they are essentially going nowhere, it means that they have only just started going somewhere. Naturally Sullivan finds it much more convenient to warp the definition of insurgency in order to have his audience accept his mostly hyperbolic critique of those who oppose the mainstream media, George W., and American foreign policy.
It's hard to miss the doublespeak here. When those like Gibbs and Dickerson call George W. Bush a revolutionary one begins to wonder how much meaning is left in that word. Others who speak and act out against the injustices they perceive within the present order are not called revolutionary – they are insurgents, and insurgents as Sullivan defines them. TIME is careful to reserve the powerful language and symbolism of revolution (thanks to a culture and education system that presents the American Revolution as the pivotal turning point of history. Odd for a nation that is regarded as Christian – for Christianity affirms that the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus was the pivotal turning point of history) for its allies, while also refusing to apply such language and symbolism to its opponents, regardless of how closely either sit fits the terms of usage.
Perhaps t-shirts with pictures of Che Guevara captioned, “Vive la Revolucion” will one day be replaced with t-shirts sporting George W. Bush proclaiming, “Long live the Revolution”. And kids will sit around in Starbucks reminiscing about the glory days of his reign and wonder how they too can continue the war of freedom that he fought so well.
John Bunyan Meets The Brothers' Grimm
Purity was raped, not by Passion but by something nameless.
For Passion too was beaten and tied up in the basement.
Revelry was blinded just as Faith began to see
That Innocence had died and Hope was made an orphan.
But Assurance adopted Hope who grew to untie Passion.
Passion became the lead in a dance with Revelry.
And Revelry? Well, Revelry introduced Purity to Transformation.
Together they sought Power but all they found was Love.
Who dubbed the nameless 'Impotence'.
Toronto: A Eulogy for Becky
A city full of ghosts and shadows stained grey.
Catching glimpses of the skin of children wrapped in cardboard.
Born of angels
Who fell a long, long time ago
And forgot that they could fly.
“She’s still a trigger and I’m still reliving
The trauma caused by beauty and searching for a stronger muse.
But I only find
Her voice in parking lots
And her reflection in the windows of this train.”
Holiday Family Gatherings
Ivan is clean. His last binge lasted nine days, and he’s been clean ever since. That was five months ago. He’s waiting for me at the door. There’s a light in his eyes, his smile breaking out all over his face and he can’t stop laughing at everything, at everyone, at every word. Not mockingly – joyfully. There’s muscles all over his body where before there were only bones. He’s got a place to stay, and just finished school for a fork-lift driver’s license.
The girl in his lap looks up sneering, “What? Your friend shows up and all of a sudden you’re giggling like a little girl?”
I hadn’t seen Ivan since I took him away with my brothers. Not since he laughed and talked and slept and played and drank with us. He’s family now. We both know it. We are each others family. I’d stayed in touch through a friend, wept when I heard of his heart attack, and prayed desperately when I heard that he had started to clean up.
Ivan, my friend, it is good to see you. You are my Christmas present.
~
Visiting the drop-in was bitter sweet. Scribbles came up to me delighted, pulling me into a bear-hug, laughing and talking too fast. He’s clean too, he’s got a place, he’s gone legit, he’s a father now and he’s taking care of his baby. Scribbles looks like he’s made it. Nikita too, she’s doing well. Eric isn’t nearly as angry as he used to be he smiles and cracks jokes when I point at his long hair and beard and call him Jesus.
“All I know is that if people start deciding I’m some sort of icon to follow then the world is going to get really fucked-up really fast.”
That’s the good news. And then there are the others. Shaun was clean for eight months. He appeared in Toronto about three weeks ago and has started binging again. I talk with him but he’s sketched out. He’s a paranoid schizophrenic and when you couple that with a crack addiction it can be hard to have a coherent conversation. I was hoping he had gone away for good leaving this city and its demons behind. But he’s crashing and burning once again. Lexus buried her baby three weeks ago. She’s older now too, a little more open to being sorrowful instead of angry. I hold her for a moment and she kisses my cheek before she goes. And then there’s Becky. She was doing well. She was clean, looking for work, pursuing her dreams. Then, three days ago, she jumped in front of the subway train. Nobody really knows why. She was in a battle for her life… I guess she lost right at the very end.
In a way, I wish there weren’t so many kids that were thrilled to see me. In a way I wish I had come back to discover a place full of unfamiliar faces. I wanted to dream that the kids I knew had moved on, had healed, had been made whole, but a lot of them are still here, still fighting, still chasing highs and lows. And it’s sad but that’s life. So we just love each other, we delight it one another’s company until we part ways again. For one more day we know that we are beloved and then we say goodbye.
Yes, this is where I wanted to be for Christmas. God bless us, everyone.
A Response
We rejoice.
We have glimpsed victory and have the assurance of the reconciliation of all things.
And so we dance. But as we move across the floor the tears of others are drawn to us and wrap around us like a blanket. Until all things are made new our dance reveals a world full of hurt and dying. Without missing a beat we find ourselves weeping. Our joy and sorrow weave together as the music swells and fades.
One day we will dance freely. Free in a way we cannot completely understand right now. One day we will know laughter that has fully triumphed over sorrow. Laughter that is pure, that is sure, laughter that is whole. Beauty untouched by brokenness. Or rather, beauty that runs deeper than brokenness, beauty that is victorious. Then the dance will truly begin. The crowd will shift, a space will open, and you will see her there. Uninhibited, joyful and whole.
Then we all will echo the words of Martin Luther King, Jr. “Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last.”
Maranatha. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, come quickly.
Hands
And the friends that he has are all bleeding.
They’re addicts, and perverts, and thieves.
The story of beauty once broken,
The lonely that nobody grieves.
But in sharing a smile on the corner,
In comparing holes in their shoes,
He’s wishing the best for the other,
Even if the rest of them lose.
Though the room he returns to is empty
And the bedsheets are always cold,
He’s still singing songs in the shower,
A witness to weakness made bold.
He is treating his friends like his lovers
And smiling when no one can see.
His hands jumping out of his pockets,
Now touching, now telling, now free.
Disclaimer
He said:
Hey man, can you help me, I can't reach it.
Pointed at the camera in the ceiling.
I climbed up, blocked it so they could not see.
Turned to find you out of bed and kneeling.
Before the nurses came, took you away,
I stood there on a chair and watched you pray.
– The Weakerthans
This is a journal.
That means I'm struggling with the things I write about – not claiming to have discovered absolute truth.
Please do not go and base your life or faith solely on anything written here (or on your interpretation of anything written here).
~
Naturally, if you speak to enough people about enough subjects, particularly subjects that are deeply personal or deeply controversial, misunderstandings will inevitably result. So let me clarify a few things:
When I write about remembering suffering at Christmas I'm writing to comfortable middle-class Christians, not those who have suffered. I'm writing to Christians who have made emotional happiness and instant pleasure the be-all-end-all of their Christian existence instead of responding to the call and example of Jesus.
When I write about universalism I'm not claiming that all religions (or lacks thereof) lead to the same God. I'm not surrendering terms that the Bible dictates nor am I adopting a laissez-faire approach.
And I'd like to think that when I write angrily I'm not writing (too) arrogantly.
And that, my friends, is my disclaimer. Read critically.