Day two of “Befriending the Stranger” became perfect for day two of this retreat.
I spent part of day two writing, showering, driving and trying to find a warm, cozy spot in the Pebble Beach resort to sit and read some more. But this proved difficult because their café was closed and it was cold outside even on that nice terrace overlooking the ocean-side green that seemed inviting and I assumed would promise some outdoor heaters for its elite clientèle. Sitting out there, I listened to the golfer/tourists talk about all sorts of inane things that angered me, such as the rice shortage being fake and naming all the different cars one has. I tried to ignore them and read McSweeney’s and the election coverage in the paper, which I liked doing, because it felt good to flip open the paper and feel informed and part of things. Besides this brief hour on the cold terrace, I spent the day worried I wasn’t doing enough—I had a stack of books I brought (probably like 15), and a list of things to blog about and a handful of DVD’s to watch and then the whole praying business I came for in the first place. As I meandered home feeling defeated that I could only make it one hour on the cold terrace, I felt anxious and unproductive. I wondered which books I should read. I worried over what I would write. Am I doing what I am supposed to here, God?
I decided that since Vanier had been good to me last night, I would continue in that vain. Plus, I would feel good to maybe make it half way through this book.
And yes, Vanier was good to me;
That is why the Lord says:
‘For I will remove the names of Ba’als from her mouth’ (Hos 2:17)
which means,
‘I will take away all those things that have become idols for you,
the thing that you worship in place of God;
things that have taken on too much importance,
such as money, efficiency, know-how, reputation,
even friendship and community.
You have put your trust in them instead of in me.’
Reading this, I realized that even in my pursuit of a “spiritual retreat”, I let my idols of productivity, of busy-ness and of efficiency come in the way, causing anxiety and doubt about my time here to just eat away at any joy and peace I was hoping would come out of it. And of course, in reading this, there is the realization that in so many ways I let idols take the place of my worship of God… all of the above, and then some. Seeing this reality, letting it set itself in my heart, was a relief.
To see again that my poverty is always present makes the love God has for me that much more astonishing. I beat myself up now and almost always, with the feeling that I am never done. I am a compulsive list maker and long for the day when everything is crossed off the list. But its not ever done, those lists. I want to be a good friend, who keeps up on quality time, and phone calls and emails and correspondence, and no matter how much I try, there is always more. I long to be a prolific writer, keeping up on blogs, writing articles one day, perhaps even a book at some point… but I can barely blog once a month. These, to some extent, are just surface things, but there are a hundred more ways I feel I don’t measure up- my sensitive ego, my insatiable need to please others, my selfish hoarding of my time and resources, to name a few.
Vanier sums it up well:
"We tend to think that it is impossible for God to call us
and to love us as we are today.
We feel we are not good enough,
that we are totally unworthy of that love."
But he goes on:
"Yet if we listen, God constantly reminds us:
'I love you just as you are
and I am calling you today, ‘come and be with me.’
You may have been unfaithful at times
Because you forgot me;
that is why I am leading you once more into the wilderness
so that you can understand how much I love you
and so that you may know me.”
Let us take time to listen to God.
Perhaps we can just sit down near a tree
And hear God say to us
‘you are beloved
you are precious in my eyes and I love you.’
And this, this is what I needed to read, today, this moment. The truth of this lead me to pray, to really pray and let out my heart—to recognize all of my imperfections and bask in the truth that God loves me in the midst of them. To speak to him about all the things on my heart, all the people I care for, all the worries I have over my work and my future and my heart. To pray out of a place of knowing and taking in the love of God – this is what I wanted. And what I want to continue.
I often worry that when I share who Jesus is to me with someone who may not believe in Him as the son of God, that I will come across as insincere, or lacking in tough life experience. I worry that the gravity of my own little life won’t have much weight to someone who has had it tougher than I have had. Again Vanier speaks to this in relaying a story about one day when he spoke to a prison about God’s love. One prisoner challenged him, saying that Vanier had had and easy life, that he couldn’t possibly understand the difficulty of the lives of the prisoners there. The prisoner listed the events of his disastrous childhood- rape and prostitution and imprisonment. To this Vanier was silenced, but then thoughtfully replies
“it is I true, I do not know what you have lived.
But what I do know is
That everything you have just said is important”
Vanier gets permission to share this mans story with those outside the prison and encourages this man that when he does get out of prison, that he may need to listen to stories of people about life outside of the prison.
Everything you have just said is important.
Vanier listened and heard him. He validated him. And he encouraged him to do the same, to see things beyond what he had experienced.
I want to be this. To be a listener, first, to hear what someone is saying. I won’t be able to match every story I hear—even Jesus did not experience the lives of the prostitutes and tax collectors and sinners he encountered—but he heard them. And he offered them healing. Not co-dependent, weird, get-away-with- whatever-you-want, you-had-a-tough-childhood type of stuff- but honest healing and love from the source that never stops coming.
And to be a conduit of that source, I must know that source myself…. I must know it well. We have no business trying to help anyone else unless we know full well where our own healing comes from. What are we offering if we don’t? Our own depleted, half-grown, broken, numbed out, holier than thou selves are not going do anyone any good, even with the best of intentions. After Vaniers section on God’s love, he immediately goes into how that love translates to helping the needy and marginalized. But the love came first- the reminder of our source, the God above and within, that loves us more than we are capable of understanding, that came first.
As I watch the ocean disappear behind the contrasted trees, water trickles from the fountain outside. I imagine God as the source of all the water on earth, even the source of the ocean so powerful and beyond comprehension. From this source, every ocean, stream, river and lake is provided with water. And then I imagine us, at our little fountains and ponds and creeks, trying to provide people with sustenance by the power of our own tiny trickles of water. And while, yes, God is in our little streams, we must continually show those without that the source is far greater than us.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
the cottage castle retreat
This is the most ridiculous view you have ever seen, its absolutely unreal. I am sitting in the sun room of a little miniature tower- part castle, part English country home. It’s beautifully decorated and quaint (old fashioned/old lady country style), warm and cozy. But this being alone here is quite difficult. I felt I had been craving solitude for months, sensed this need to be away from the everyday machine of work, play, friends, bills, errands, busy, schedule, email, traffic, shopping, money. Not that I live in some crazy city or something… but life is this way, no matter where you live. If I were a farmer, it would be just as busy, but in a different way- getting up early, eating before light, working the fields, tending the cows, whatever.
So here I am on my retreat, away from all that, and its really really difficult. I woke up this morning semi-panicked—what am I going to do with myself? The gray skies lied to me all morning, looking like 6am for hours— which caused multiple back-to-sleeps, resulting in my getting out of bed at 12:44pm. I think I slept for 12 hours, but I don’t know, since I don’t have my phone and there are no clocks in this place. For most of last night and the morning, I didn’t have any clue what time it was. Which should have been nice, except my compulsive need to be busy, to have a reason to do something, to have a sense of purpose, kept me from enjoying this mellow schedule I am supposed to have here.
I mean, that, and it could be the fact that the gray hasn’t lifted at all since yesterday. All the perfect pebble beach trees and the ocean waiting beyond have no shadow, no contrast, because all the sky can give them is the matte, depressing gray. The weather report last night said partly cloudy, highs in the low 60’s… and of course it had to pan over to santa cruz and report sun and upper 60’s. This is my vice, of course, the pursuit of the sun. I want it/need it so badly… to have it beat down on me, to feel the warmth all around, to be perfectly at peace with all my surroundings. This may explain my sense of hopelessness, at the moment, to some extent.
But even with sun, I would expect that the anxiety and lack of hope I feel would remain, because I am here, with an entire day left, to do whatever it is I want. And though this should be relaxing and fun, looking back on the last 24 hours, I am not too pleased with what I chose for them. I was late in getting here (of course), got lost somehow (of course) and when I did arrive, I hadn’t thought ahead enough to bring food with me (of course). So I ventured back out into traffic and had to spend an hour getting food basics, only to find that the yummy looking quesadilla I had picked from the local deli had the stinkiest cheese I had ever smelled and tasted terrible. Back here in the cozy cottage/tower, I proceeded to watch television for about 6 hours straight, all the while cursing myself for not being more “productive.” Its not that I was even watching anything particularly good- but I have this problem… television is literally an addiction for me. Chalk it up to watching it constantly as a child, but the minute I turn it on, unless you give me a reason to stop, I will watch and watch as the dark of night surrounds me and I am enveloped in the blue haze, until I pass out in a pop culturally mind-numbed bliss.
By the grace of God, I finally switched it off somewhere between 11 and 12 (but who really knows?). I sat laying there, in quiet, wanting to talk to God, but feeling like a fake. I did, finally, confessing my doubt at Him, my doubts about all these areas of my life, my fear at failing, of being numb, of never feeling like I am actually doing anything with my life. I finally made it up the spiral stairs to my bed and opened “Befriending the Stranger” by Jean Vanier.
“God’s ways are not our ways; God’s choices are not the choices of society.
God chooses “the poor, the weak, the needy”,
Those who recognize their poverty—
Not just a material poverty but an inability to cope with life,
A feeling of powerlessness and not knowing what to do.
A mother who has just lost a child is “poor”.
A women whose husband has left her is “poor”.
A man who has lost his job is “poor”.
The girl who learns she has cancer is “poor”.
The man who senses his body growing older and weaker is “poor”.
People who are faced with difficult family situations are “poor”.
The problem is that we refuse to admit our weakness, our needs, our poverty
because we are frightened of rejection.
We have been taught to be strong, to be “the best”, to win
in order to become “someone”.
Since society tends to marginalize those who are weak
we think weakness means rejection.
Se we try to hide our own poverty for as long as we can
and to pretend we are strong;
We build up an appearance of being in control.
We need to hear that gentle, inner voice of God who tells us:
“You do not need to pretend.
You do not need to hide your weakness.
You can bee yourself.
I didn’t call you to community
First of all to help others
or to prove that you were generous or efficient.
I called you because you are poor,
Just like the ones you cane to serve
And because the Kingdom of God is promised to the poor.”
Read that again.
And then again.
After a couple times, I realized that it was exactly what I didn’t know that I needed to hear.
Coinciding with this retreat, I was in an existential mini-crisis about my purpose and place in the world. What was I really doing to serve the Kingdom? Is my heart truly surrendered to God and His will and direction for my heart and life?—or am I in a pattern, a way, that makes it easy to appear so, while all the while allowing my heart to soak in my own comfort and selfishness? Am I effective in my job? Is anyone in the church really experiencing community?
And in the midst of all the questions, the shame.
I am not doing enough. There are still people who feel alone when they walk through our doors. The people of myranmar are dying every second. The world is hungrier now than ever before. I am selfish with my time, trapped in a bubble. I don’t truly give myself to others. And on and on.
I am not poor in material wealth. I am not poor in friends or purpose. I am not poor by the standards of outside looking in.
But I am poor in spirit.
Because of my own, broken humanity,
I crave my own comfort.
I defer to my own needs before others.
I stay busy so I don’t have to feel.
I am addicted to being needed, because I am scared of being useless.
I have little, if any, self-control.
I am weak.
And I know that in all these things, and in more,
I need God,
who loves me beyond reason.
Later, Vanier (who is Henri Houwen’s mentor) goes on to say
“Let us ask Jesus to help us discover our poverty,
not to be frightened or ashamed of it
and to become more aware of our call, our mission.
God’s call is different for each one of us
And yet it is the same.
It is a call to grow in love, in wisdom and in inner freedom,
And thus to bring greater love, peace and freedom into the world.
Once we have recognized our call and found our place-
which takes time-
Then we need to learn to put down roots
and to be faithful to that call.
Each person has his/her role in building the community.
Each has to deepen his/her sense of being called.
It takes time for choices to deepen, to mature and to bear fruit.
Each call is unique
but we are all called to give life
and to give life together, as a community.”
As sad as it is to say, being the director of community for our church, the heart of these two truths I have forgotten- that beyond all our details and circumstance, we are simply called to give life and to give it together in community.
How easy it is for me to forget my source of life- God… and easy to forget that I actually do need God.
How easy it is to forget my context, that life is given in community. And that I need community.
Maybe there is a reason I don’t feel so good here.
The loneliness I feel, even after one day, feels like fasting from food. Food is not bad, it gives our physical bodies life and sustenance—but when we fast, it reminds us of our weakness, and how blessed we are that we do have food, when we get to have it again. I feel the same for the people in my life right now. I am fasting from them to be reminded that despite how busy I get or overwhelmed I get, I need them. I need them around to remind me I am human, that I am accepted and loved… and specifically that my acceptance and love comes through the truth of God’s presence in my life. The community I have is, and must remain, a constant reminder that the body of Christ is bonded together through God, who is our source, the headwater in our streams of life. He has given us to each other as gifts, to remind each other of what is true and right.
As dirty as I feel about my television overdose, some of what I saw yesterday reflects some of what I am realizing right now—
In “Walk the Line,” Johnny needed June to help him from his darkness. June needed Johnny so she would stop being afraid of love.
On “Wife Swap,” over-controlling family from Michigan needed mellow family from Ohio to learn how to be more free and less rigid (though they didn’t listen in the end). Ohio family needed Michigan family to help them have structure and boundaries, so they could raise healthier kids and have saner lives (and they did listen in the end).
In “Rent,” the rag-tag bohemians absolutely needed each other to survive the ravages of AIDS, materialism, poverty and prejudice- their liveliness and creativity thrived from being together.
On “Sex and the City,” Carrie and the gals realized the value of family/community, created or biological, as a place to come home to when everything else feels lost or broken.
Even the Home Shopping Network sellers of a hair care product looked so happy and alive being together, testing their hairspray on each other and receiving calls from housewives delighted to be part of their experience.
Its so funny what happens to you when you spend enough time alone.
So here I am on my retreat, away from all that, and its really really difficult. I woke up this morning semi-panicked—what am I going to do with myself? The gray skies lied to me all morning, looking like 6am for hours— which caused multiple back-to-sleeps, resulting in my getting out of bed at 12:44pm. I think I slept for 12 hours, but I don’t know, since I don’t have my phone and there are no clocks in this place. For most of last night and the morning, I didn’t have any clue what time it was. Which should have been nice, except my compulsive need to be busy, to have a reason to do something, to have a sense of purpose, kept me from enjoying this mellow schedule I am supposed to have here.
I mean, that, and it could be the fact that the gray hasn’t lifted at all since yesterday. All the perfect pebble beach trees and the ocean waiting beyond have no shadow, no contrast, because all the sky can give them is the matte, depressing gray. The weather report last night said partly cloudy, highs in the low 60’s… and of course it had to pan over to santa cruz and report sun and upper 60’s. This is my vice, of course, the pursuit of the sun. I want it/need it so badly… to have it beat down on me, to feel the warmth all around, to be perfectly at peace with all my surroundings. This may explain my sense of hopelessness, at the moment, to some extent.
But even with sun, I would expect that the anxiety and lack of hope I feel would remain, because I am here, with an entire day left, to do whatever it is I want. And though this should be relaxing and fun, looking back on the last 24 hours, I am not too pleased with what I chose for them. I was late in getting here (of course), got lost somehow (of course) and when I did arrive, I hadn’t thought ahead enough to bring food with me (of course). So I ventured back out into traffic and had to spend an hour getting food basics, only to find that the yummy looking quesadilla I had picked from the local deli had the stinkiest cheese I had ever smelled and tasted terrible. Back here in the cozy cottage/tower, I proceeded to watch television for about 6 hours straight, all the while cursing myself for not being more “productive.” Its not that I was even watching anything particularly good- but I have this problem… television is literally an addiction for me. Chalk it up to watching it constantly as a child, but the minute I turn it on, unless you give me a reason to stop, I will watch and watch as the dark of night surrounds me and I am enveloped in the blue haze, until I pass out in a pop culturally mind-numbed bliss.
By the grace of God, I finally switched it off somewhere between 11 and 12 (but who really knows?). I sat laying there, in quiet, wanting to talk to God, but feeling like a fake. I did, finally, confessing my doubt at Him, my doubts about all these areas of my life, my fear at failing, of being numb, of never feeling like I am actually doing anything with my life. I finally made it up the spiral stairs to my bed and opened “Befriending the Stranger” by Jean Vanier.
“God’s ways are not our ways; God’s choices are not the choices of society.
God chooses “the poor, the weak, the needy”,
Those who recognize their poverty—
Not just a material poverty but an inability to cope with life,
A feeling of powerlessness and not knowing what to do.
A mother who has just lost a child is “poor”.
A women whose husband has left her is “poor”.
A man who has lost his job is “poor”.
The girl who learns she has cancer is “poor”.
The man who senses his body growing older and weaker is “poor”.
People who are faced with difficult family situations are “poor”.
The problem is that we refuse to admit our weakness, our needs, our poverty
because we are frightened of rejection.
We have been taught to be strong, to be “the best”, to win
in order to become “someone”.
Since society tends to marginalize those who are weak
we think weakness means rejection.
Se we try to hide our own poverty for as long as we can
and to pretend we are strong;
We build up an appearance of being in control.
We need to hear that gentle, inner voice of God who tells us:
“You do not need to pretend.
You do not need to hide your weakness.
You can bee yourself.
I didn’t call you to community
First of all to help others
or to prove that you were generous or efficient.
I called you because you are poor,
Just like the ones you cane to serve
And because the Kingdom of God is promised to the poor.”
Read that again.
And then again.
After a couple times, I realized that it was exactly what I didn’t know that I needed to hear.
Coinciding with this retreat, I was in an existential mini-crisis about my purpose and place in the world. What was I really doing to serve the Kingdom? Is my heart truly surrendered to God and His will and direction for my heart and life?—or am I in a pattern, a way, that makes it easy to appear so, while all the while allowing my heart to soak in my own comfort and selfishness? Am I effective in my job? Is anyone in the church really experiencing community?
And in the midst of all the questions, the shame.
I am not doing enough. There are still people who feel alone when they walk through our doors. The people of myranmar are dying every second. The world is hungrier now than ever before. I am selfish with my time, trapped in a bubble. I don’t truly give myself to others. And on and on.
I am not poor in material wealth. I am not poor in friends or purpose. I am not poor by the standards of outside looking in.
But I am poor in spirit.
Because of my own, broken humanity,
I crave my own comfort.
I defer to my own needs before others.
I stay busy so I don’t have to feel.
I am addicted to being needed, because I am scared of being useless.
I have little, if any, self-control.
I am weak.
And I know that in all these things, and in more,
I need God,
who loves me beyond reason.
Later, Vanier (who is Henri Houwen’s mentor) goes on to say
“Let us ask Jesus to help us discover our poverty,
not to be frightened or ashamed of it
and to become more aware of our call, our mission.
God’s call is different for each one of us
And yet it is the same.
It is a call to grow in love, in wisdom and in inner freedom,
And thus to bring greater love, peace and freedom into the world.
Once we have recognized our call and found our place-
which takes time-
Then we need to learn to put down roots
and to be faithful to that call.
Each person has his/her role in building the community.
Each has to deepen his/her sense of being called.
It takes time for choices to deepen, to mature and to bear fruit.
Each call is unique
but we are all called to give life
and to give life together, as a community.”
As sad as it is to say, being the director of community for our church, the heart of these two truths I have forgotten- that beyond all our details and circumstance, we are simply called to give life and to give it together in community.
How easy it is for me to forget my source of life- God… and easy to forget that I actually do need God.
How easy it is to forget my context, that life is given in community. And that I need community.
Maybe there is a reason I don’t feel so good here.
The loneliness I feel, even after one day, feels like fasting from food. Food is not bad, it gives our physical bodies life and sustenance—but when we fast, it reminds us of our weakness, and how blessed we are that we do have food, when we get to have it again. I feel the same for the people in my life right now. I am fasting from them to be reminded that despite how busy I get or overwhelmed I get, I need them. I need them around to remind me I am human, that I am accepted and loved… and specifically that my acceptance and love comes through the truth of God’s presence in my life. The community I have is, and must remain, a constant reminder that the body of Christ is bonded together through God, who is our source, the headwater in our streams of life. He has given us to each other as gifts, to remind each other of what is true and right.
As dirty as I feel about my television overdose, some of what I saw yesterday reflects some of what I am realizing right now—
In “Walk the Line,” Johnny needed June to help him from his darkness. June needed Johnny so she would stop being afraid of love.
On “Wife Swap,” over-controlling family from Michigan needed mellow family from Ohio to learn how to be more free and less rigid (though they didn’t listen in the end). Ohio family needed Michigan family to help them have structure and boundaries, so they could raise healthier kids and have saner lives (and they did listen in the end).
In “Rent,” the rag-tag bohemians absolutely needed each other to survive the ravages of AIDS, materialism, poverty and prejudice- their liveliness and creativity thrived from being together.
On “Sex and the City,” Carrie and the gals realized the value of family/community, created or biological, as a place to come home to when everything else feels lost or broken.
Even the Home Shopping Network sellers of a hair care product looked so happy and alive being together, testing their hairspray on each other and receiving calls from housewives delighted to be part of their experience.
Its so funny what happens to you when you spend enough time alone.
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