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Lent 2024 | Week 1: TIME

Welcome to CK’s Lent Journey for 2024! The past few years our church has been looking at Lent through the lens of taking on certain practices with the intention of letting go of other things in our lives that distract or detract from our lives with God. This year, one of the practices we are recommending for Lent is reflection, whether that is by journaling or through talking with a trusted friend.

Every week on Sunday we will be posting a new set of reflection questions based on themes and areas of our lives that are important to look at on a deeper level. We hope this is a chance to take some time to look inward, to process, to ask intentional questions about your life and bring those reflections to God, asking him to show us what is going well and what might need to change.

The first area of life we are going to reflect on is time.

Why Time: Our days are marked by time.  When we do things, what order we do them in, how much we are able to do, all depends on time and how we have ordered our day.  It is important, therefore, to stop and reflect on how we spend our time.  Our days are a gift from God and we choose how to fill them.  Let’s take some time to reflect on our time and how we spend it and why we spend it the way we do.

Reflection: Here are some reflection questions to help you work through this topic.  Feel free to answer all of them or just some, and if you’re not sure of the answer, try journaling about why you’re not sure of it…it may just help you figure it out!  If you’re an extrovert or a verbal processor, try going through these questions with a friend!

  • Why do I wake up when I wake up? Why do I go to sleep when I go to sleep?
  • What do I do when I have free time?
  • Write out a typical schedule of your day, what takes up the most time? The least? Is this the ranking you want to see? What could change and how would it change?
  • Is there anything I spend my time doing that doesn’t draw me towards the “good life” that I think God wants for me? What is it?

Pray with me: Lord, you have given me my days and the time each one brings me to do and be.  Guide me through my days and the decisions I make on how to spend them.  Give me wisdom to know what can and should be done and what needs to be left for another time.  Lead me towards good things to fill my time and away from things that are not. Amen.

Bonus: If you make it through the thematic list of journaling prompts this week and would like some more general ones to guide you, try some of these:

  • What hopes do I have for growth in my spiritual life as I journey through Lent?
  • What has been heavy on my heart or mind today?
  • How do I feel today? What am I worried about or excited for?
  • How do I need God to show up for me today? Is there anything I need to ask him for?
  • How have I seen God show up for me in the past?  What has he already done or been doing in my life?
  • What am I grateful for today?

An Unexpected Grace

“To die to our neighbors means to stop judging them, to stop evaluating them, and thus to become free to be compassionate. Compassion can never coexist with judgment because judgment creates the distance, the distinction, which prevents us from really being with the other.” – Henri J.M. Nouwen

End Slavery: +814292.09

The Good Place is a television series that revolves around the concept of the afterlife. According to the show, humans are sent to either the Good Place or the Bad Place after they die. During their lifetime, every human is assigned a numerical score that is based on their actions. Only those with the highest scores are deemed worthy of entering the Good Place, where they are rewarded with eternal happiness.

“The Good Place” is not your run-of-the-mill comedy show. It delves into impressive philosophical themes and offers a unique perspective on judgment. The show explores the concept of retributive justice, which suggests that the destiny of all rational beings is determined by their good and bad deeds.

Judgment

noun

  1. the ability to make considered decisions or come to a conclusion.
  2. A misfortune or calamity. Viewed as punishment.

During a conversation with Ken, a few weeks ago, he shared an interesting perspective. He explained that “as Christians, we commonly assume that judgment only comes at the end. We believe that we receive grace first and are then judged at the end”. However, Ken emphasized that this is not the case. “In reality, judgment comes first, and then we are always being judged; that is how we are able to receive grace.” That is, grace is always “despite” and not “because of” our human condition (Karl Barth).

The parable of the Prodigal Son illustrates the dynamics of judgment, grace, and human relationships. While it is often portrayed as a story about God’s love, its central theme revolves around our interactions with each other.

Perspective Taking: The Prodigal Son

What I’m about to say is subjective and my own opinion, but I think we often live and judge ourselves, others, and events either in the past, present, or future in our headspace as rational creatures.

  1. Past – guilt, shame, regret, dwelling on what happened, replaying events or conversations, over analyzing.
  2. Present – clarity, acceptance, joy of being, understanding, inner peace, gratitude.
  3. Future – fear of the unknown, worrying about what could happen, feeling anxious for what is to come, ‘what if’ scenarios.

I am not saying that being in any particular headspace is either good or bad, but I believe that the following list is useful in understanding what shapes and evaluates our lives in the world today. For instance, if we view the narrative of the Prodigal Son through the lens of past, present, and future, we can gain deeper insight into the characters and their motivations within the story.

17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father.
“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.
21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’
22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.
25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’
28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’
31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

Luke 15:11-32 (NIV)

We see that the younger son is experiencing something close to depression and anxiety when he reunites with his father. Believing and acknowledging the judgment he placed on himself and believing in the possibility of his father’s wrath was justified. However, the father is a glimpse of a character who is mindful of the deep hurt, damaged trust, and wound that his son did to him, but he also sees someone taking ownership, and anything but forgiveness doesn’t make sense.

To emphasize the humanity of the Prodigal Son parable, we can turn to the season 1 finale of Ted Lasso to observe Rebecca and Ted in action.

‘You…What? Why?’

At the beginning of season 1, Rebecca hires Ted Lasso to coach the Richmond team, intending to take them down to get back at her ex-husband for hurting her. As the audience, we walk with Rebecca as she begins to sabotage Ted at every possibility and as her humanity begins to come out.

Ted, also going through a divorce, can understand and share Rebecca’s pain and forgive her. Despite the damage caused by the hurt and loss of trust, he recognizes that she is taking responsibility for her actions. This empathy is the outcome that we observe.

An Unexpected Beginning

“The Birth of Christ is the eucatastrophe of Man’s history.” – J.R.R. Tolkien

Concerning J.R.R. Tolkien

If you were to open The Lord of the Rings and step into Middle-earth, you would be transported to a realm beyond your wildest imagination. Although beautiful and fantastical, the characters and themes in the text are distinctly human.

J.R.R. Tolkien’s literary works have profoundly impacted the fantasy genre as we know it today. His story spans over a thousand pages and is widely considered one of the greatest of our time. Critics and readers alike have pointed out the numerous Christian allegories embedded in his work. He once wrote to the English Roman Catholic theologian, Father Robert Murray, calling The Lord of the Rings “a fundamentally religious and Catholic work; unconsciously so at first, but consciously in the revision.” However, Tolkien himself disliked the idea of allegory. He believed his work’s applicability to readers was more important than any intended allegory. He understood that the meaning and interpretation of his work were ultimately up to the reader.

In Tolkien’s essay “On Fairy-Stories,” he explores his views on the role of imagination and deep consideration for escapism in fictional stories. He argues that “escapism” is healthy and necessary as long as readers are not abandoning their responsibilities. In other words, the type often misunderstood as the only type of escapism is when the reader uses the story to ignore his duties in life and disappear into a fantasy world. However, for Tolkien, well-written fantasy and escapism literature can only enhance the readers’ view of their everyday world. Stories are meant to immerse us in a reality that points to an ultimate truth. Walter Wangerin Jr. once wrote, “To comprehend the experience one is living in, he must, by imagination and intellect, be lifted out of it.”

A Good Catastrophe

On August 6, 1945, during World War II, an American B-29 bomber dropped the world’s first deployed atomic bomb over the Japanese city of Hiroshima. The explosion immediately killed an estimated 80,000 people and tens of thousands more later due to radiation exposure.

On January 12, 2010, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake struck Haiti, leaving its capital Port-au-Prince devastated. About 220,000 people were reportedly killed.

On December 26, 2004, a 9.1-9.3 magnitude earthquake off the west coast of Sumatra, Indonesia, ruptured, and approximately 230,000 people died in the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami.

Catastrophe comes from the Greek word “overturn” or “any sudden disaster.” It names a momentous tragic event ranging from extreme misfortune to utter destruction. It is a circumstance that disrupts our lives—an interruption to human life’s existing activity and progress.

Tolkien believed that an event that is a catastrophe can be a surprise and fortune-reversing but with a happy ending. To describe this, he used the Greek word eu-the Greek prefix simply meaning good. Thus, Tolkien coined a word that would help describe and explain the understanding and power of stories derived from the real world – eucatastrophe. Eucatastrophe describes the fortunate turn of events—an unexpected and sudden good during dire situations.

The showdown in Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope is an excellent example of eucatastrophe. The Rebel Alliance faces destruction as the Galactic Empire has found its military operations on the moon base of Yavin 4. The Death Star’s superlaser can destroy a planet, and the Rebel Alliance has only one chance to stop it. They send their fighter pilots to shoot proton torpedoes into the Death Star’s reactor core, causing a chain reaction that can destroy the giant battle station. Darth Vader and a couple of tie fighters are shooting down the Rebel Alliance’s pilots, and Luke has a one-in-a-million shot. The unexpected destruction of the Death Star through Luke’s shot is a moment of eucatastrophe that saves the Rebel Alliance from destruction and brings hope to the galaxy.

However, Tolkien believed that eucatastrophe could only be brought about through grace, not heroic efforts or human achievements. ***SPOILER ALERT***. A great example is the end of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Burdened by the ring and carrying it from the Shire to Mordor, Frodo has finally succumbed to the ring’s will at the heart of Mt. Doom. Unable to resist, he tries to take the ring for himself. 

Frodo was on the brink of destroying the ring, but its accidental destruction during his fight with Gollum granted an unexpected grace.

Eucatastrophe does not deny the existence of sorrow, wrath, fear, greed, oppression, failure, or death; instead, it offers a glimpse of hope and joy through grace, denying universal final defeat through unexpected means. 

The Incarnation was a momentous event, even though it was prophesied in the Old Testament. It was a sudden and unexpected event that changed the very nature of reality and our understanding of human history. The Incarnation was the first significant change in reality since the world’s creation. It brought together God and creation, marking the beginning of the redemption and reconciliation of the earth to God through Jesus.

While Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings is a fantastic work of fiction, it can sometimes be challenging to relate to the story’s fantastical elements – we’re not wizards, Balrogs, or Hobbits. This is where shows like Ted Lasso come in. Ted Lasso is a show that understands human relationships and how they can bring about unexpected moments of grace, hope, and joy. 

Richmond Till We Die

Let’s address the larger-than-life elephant in the room – yes, I am a huge fan of Ted Lasso. I have rewatched the show countless times and listened to numerous podcasts where people analyze and discuss each episode. I even have Ted Lasso stickers on my belongings and a Coach Beard costume that I will probably wear every Halloween, and I bought Fifa 23 so that I could play as Ted Lasso and the entire AFC Richmond team.

Ted Lasso is a show about an American football coach hired to coach a struggling English soccer team. Despite the cultural differences and initial hatred towards him, Ted Lasso’s kindness, empathy, and belief in others transformed the team, leading to unexpected growth and success. The show is a testament to the power of human connections and the way they can bring about moments of joy and hope in the face of adversity. Moreover, it shows that eucatastrophe is not just limited to the world of fantasy or the Bible but can also be found in our everyday lives through our relationships with others.

During the Advent season, we’ll reflect on the themes of grace, hope, and joy and how they can reveal themselves unexpectedly in our relationships. Perhaps our friend Ted can offer some valuable insights. 

Lent 2023 | Week 6: Holy Week and the Mimetic Cycle

Mimetic Rivalries

Last week we began to hint at how the implications of mimetic desire might lead to the events leading up to Jesus’ crucifixion on a Roman cross. There is a kind of domino affect. When we desire what others desire and others desire what we desire, this can give way to rivalries. We are all going after the same thing and therefore we are tempted to see ourselves in a competitive relationship with one another.

We see this most clearly in sports, which is often what we probably think of first when it comes to rivalries – Lakers vs Celtics, Yankees vs Red Sox, Giants vs. Cowboys. These teams are all going after the same thing – to be the last team standing. Their rival is the one that refuses to let that happen.

Rivals are those we come to recognize as the biggest threat to our getting what we want. But not all rivalries are bad. Sometimes they push us to heights we otherwise would not have been able to reach had it not been for the competitive fire fanned into flame by our rival. But rivalries, as we all know, also have the potential to bring out the ugliest parts of us. What begins as friendly competition can quickly turn into hostility and violence.

Building on the work of the French thinker René Girard, Luke Burgis, in his book “Wanting: The Power of Mimetic Desire in Everyday Life,” provides a kind of roadmap as to what happens in society at large given our penchant for imitation. We might call it the Mimetic Cycle.

If our mimetic desires set us against one another and we see each other as rivals going after the same thing, this can lead to enmity and conflict. The life of the community is threatened if there is no way to resolve the escalating cycles of hostility and resentment caused by mimetic desire. As Burgis points out, what Girard saw was that throughout human history this kind of crisis was resolved by singling out a particular person or minority group against which all the people could be united. As a result, the violence of each against all is able to give way to the violence of all against one.

By sacrificing this one person or group, there is a kind of catharsis, the “air is cleared”, and peace is achieved. But this peace is only temporary. There is a lull in the mimetic machine, but then the engine starts up again. Our desires slowly begin to be drawn toward the desires of others. New rivalries arise, conflict ensues and the cycle continues with another sacrifice needed to calm the erupting volcano of hostility. All are united in blaming him, her or them and on and on it goes, repeating itself ad nauseam.

What is important to note is that this tendency toward ganging up on a sacrificial victim happens unconsciously. That is, we don’t know we are doing it. If we were aware of what was happening it wouldn’t produce the kind of catharsis needed to keep us from societal implosion.

This is why it is called a scapegoat mechanism.

Clearly, those we sacrifice are not guilty of the blame we pile on them. We are scapegoating them, heaping upon them our violence and hostility for reasons of expediency. But if we knew that that was what we were doing then we would know that what we were doing was unjust and wrong. And so this act of scapegoating happens beneath surface. It is a mechanism triggered unconsciously in us during moments of terrible crisis. We don’t think about it. It just happens.

This leads us to Good Friday. One way to understand the events that unfold in Jesus’ last week is that this scapegoating mechanism is triggered – in the crowds, in the religious leaders and in the Roman officials. These parties which have shown to be at rivalrous odds with one another are somehow all united by week’s end. What brings them together is these joint decision to execute a lowly carpenter from the marginalized town of Nazareth.

And so we hear the religious leaders say, “You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish,” (John 11:50). We find the crowd, who were proclaiming Jesus as the long awaited Messiah only a few days ago, screaming, “Crucify him!” (Matthew 27:22). Then there is Pilate, who we see give in to the mob for the sake of political expediency (Mark 15:15).

And at the end of it all, we hear Jesus pray from the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing,” (Luke 23:34).

The Last Scapegoat

What we find in this way of reading the events leading up to the crucifixion is that Jesus fulfills the need for a sacrifice. But it is important to recognize who it is that is demanding a sacrifice. To put it more sharply, God is not the one demanding the sacrifice. Jesus dies not to satisfy God’s desire for a sacrifice, but our desire for a sacrifice.

In this video clip, Irish writer and thinker Pete Rollins, gives a concise and eloquent summary of this way of understanding what is accomplished on the cross.

Scripture

We now come to our sixth and final reflection on Matthew 20:20-28. In past weeks we have pointed out how the disciples are prone to imitate the desire of “the Gentiles and their high officials.” These, in a sense, are their mimetic models. And what do the disciples see these models doing? As Jesus tells them, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them,” (Matthew 20:25).

This is the desire behind James and John’s request to sit at Jesus’ right and left in verses 20-21.

In response, Jesus tells them, “Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Mimetic desire becomes problematic when what is desired is something only a few can have. This is what turns our neighbor into a competitor and where rivalries are born. Notice in our passage that this is precisely what happens with the disciples. The others learn about James and John’s requests and Matthew tells us they are indignant. They are offended. Why? Presumably because they were each jockeying for the same thing. They had not yet understood the vastly different model confronting them in the life and teaching of the one they called Lord. And as a result, a rivalry was brewing among them.

Rather than climb higher, Jesus advises the disciples, and us, to reverse course. When we climb higher up the pyramid we find that there is less room for others and so, out of necessity, we need to knock off those who are above us and kick down those below us. But if we go with the way of downward mobility we find there’s room for everyone.

At the bottom we find that we don’t need to scapegoat anyone in order to bring peace to our enmity, because we have already done away with our enmity by receiving one another as friends.

What God does in Jesus is replace the mimetic cycle of scapegoating with one that begins and ends with the example of Christ.

We still begin with mimetic desire, but our model is no longer “the Gentiles and their high officials,” but Christ himself. And rather than invite us into a world of scarcity, Jesus graciously invites us to gather around the abundance of his table; a table where there is always room for more. At this table we are not afraid of losing our spot. So instead of looking at the speck in our rival’s eye, we are able to look at the log in our own. Rather than find a scapegoat to blame we are able to confess and receive one another as friends and in so doing, live into the peace made possible through Christ’s body broken for us, his blood shed for us.

This is the mimetic cycle according to Jesus.

Lent 2023 | Week 5: Imitation

Imitation is the Real Deal

Throughout the season of Lent we have been thinking about the theme of desire. Last week we took a detour to discuss the importance of contemplation. This week we’ll look at one particular question we need most to contemplate which is, “Who am I imitating?”

Who we imitate is inextricably tied to the question of what we desire. Working off the keen insights of the French thinker, René Girard, we have seen that our desires are mimetic. Simply put, our desires mimic the desires of others. To help us answer the bewildering question, “What do I want?” we look to others to give us an answer. So when we scroll through Yelp to figure out where to eat, we filter for those restaurants not just with the highest rating, but with the most reviews. We don’t know what to eat so it helps to let others decide for us.

This happens in all phases of our lives. For better or worse, it is just how we are wired. At its best, mimetic desire is what makes it possible for the development and flourishing of human cultures. It is what allows us to learn to speak a language, to come to agree on basic values that hold us together and to live toward general goals that we hold in common. At its worst, mimetic desire turns us against one another. It fragments us into hostile rivalries, turning our neighbor into an enemy to be overcome because we know they want what we want and they know we what we want they want. If this kind of enmity is not held in check, jealousy and envy can quickly turn into violent aggression.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves. For now, we want to recognize that we often look to models to help us navigate the question, “What do I want?”. When we are born, our parents are our primary models. And then in school, our teachers become models for us. As we grow up, different people come into our lives like coaches, counsellors, advisers – all of whom we may call mentors – who guide and shape our desires in various facets of our lives.

Advertisers know we are always in search of models and they are more than happy to provide us with some. And of course, with the rise of the internet, we now have a new category of model – social media influencers. It is big business to help steer or manipulate our desires in certain directions.

The point is not to say we should not have models. As we said, for better or worse, our desires are mimetic and therefore, we are drawn to models. So the question is not whether we will imitate someone. Rather, the question is, “Who to imitate?”

As we head toward Holy Week and Good Friday, we want to start considering what all this talk about desire has to do with Jesus’ life in general, and his death on a cross in particular.

One way to see Jesus’ life is to receive it as a model. Jesus is our exemplary model. The human model par excellence. Jesus, in short, is God’s answer to the question, “What do I want?”.

You don’t know what to want?

Try Jesus. I think he may have more followers than Justin Bieber.

Show Me What I’m Looking For

One of my favorite songs, the title of which, I think, is one of the best prayers we can pray. Given our time and place, in which we are bombarded with desire upon desire placed on top of desire and there are more models than we know what to do with, it is not a bad idea to pray this simple prayer daily, “Show me what I’m looking for, oh Lord.”

Interestingly enough, as I was looking up this song, the YouTube algorithm suggested a song I’ve never heard of entitled the American Dream by the Federal Empire. The song automatically played and well, turns out, it captures to a “T” all that we’ve been talking about in terms of desire gone amuck. Check it out:

The song reminds me of an old blog post Timmy wrote on desire years ago (Lent 2016!). You can read it here.

Faith and Imitation, Imitation and Faith

Christianity is a believing and a very particular kind of existing corresponding to it—imitation. We can put faith first and imitation second, inasmuch as it is necessary for me to have faith in that which I am to imitate. But we must also put imitation first and faith second. I must, by some action, be marked in some measure by conformity to Christ, and thus collide with the world. Without some kind of situational tension, there is no real opportunity of becoming a believer.

— Søren Kierkegaard

This is a wonderful quote by the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard on the relationship between faith and imitation. I think we intuitively get what it means that imitation follows faith. As we have been saying, we must have faith in and desire that which we are to imitate. But what would it meant for imitation to precede faith? Kierkegaard talks about the need for faith to “collide with the world.”

  • What do you think Kierkegaard means when he says, “Without some kind of situational tension, there is no real opportunity of becoming a believer”?

Scripture

It might help to think of Kierkegaard’s quote in terms of the Scripture passage we have been looking at throughout Lent: Matthew 20:20-28

As we looked at last week, James and John, ask for these positions of power next to Jesus even after hearing Jesus teach them about how actually things work in God’s kingdom. Namely, that the last will be first and the first will be last.

And yet they still seek to be first.

What Jesus does in response to their question is to present them with a “situational tension” (in verse 25), where what James and John believe (but not yet truly) is set to collide with the way the world works. Jesus means to provide for James and John, as Kierkegaard puts it, the opportunity of becoming true believers.

Sometimes we don’t know what we believe until we our imitation of Jesus collides with the world. It is only in those moments of collision that we are able to come to a deeper understanding of what it means to be a believer.

  • What are some moments in your life where imitation to Jesus caused you to “collide with the world”?
  • Would you say it helped or hindered your belief in Jesus?

Lent 2023 | Week 4: Contemplation

What Does Contemplation Look Like?

I have long been enamored with this scene from the 1997 film Good Will Hunting. The movie explores the difficult and complicated relationship between trauma, fear and desire. In it, Matt Damon plays the titular role of the troubled and misguided Will Hunting. Early on we learn that Will is a natural genius yet he chooses to work as a janitor, cleaning the halls walked by lesser minds at MIT. As the story progresses, we come to find that not only his choice of profession, but almost every decision he makes, is dictated by the extreme trauma he experienced as a child. Will’s parents died when he was young, and as a result he was passed on from foster home to foster home, suffering severe physical abuse — burned with cigarettes, beaten with a wrench, nearly stabbed to death — at the hands of his caretakers.

Needless to say, Will develops a deep seated mistrust of authority figures. Enter counselor and psychologist Sean Maguire, played by the late Robin Williams. Through his own encounters with trauma, Sean sees some of himself in Will. And from this place of shared experience he is able to build trust with Will, who over the years has erected thick barriers to protect himself from having to face all that was done to him.

In this climactic scene, we see those barriers finally start to come down.

This scene reminds me of what we so often need.

To come to a place where we can hear.

Really hear.

For Will, what he needed to hear was, “It’s not your fault.”

And when he finally hears it (really hears it), it is a cathartic moment. Everything that had been stuffed inside for so long comes bursting out. As he is sobbing in Sean’s embrace he says, “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

This all seems very Christian to me.

Translated into the language of faith, “It’s not your fault,” becomes “You are forgiven.”

To know that we are forgiven, allows us to face all the ugly parts of ourselves. This is the logic of the gospel. It is not that we confess in order to be forgiven. Rather, we confess because we already have been forgiven.

Like Will, we know all of this.

And of course, like Will we need to hear it again and again and again because that which we have come to know is always a partial knowing. And so it must be made known to us again and again because we need to know it more and more, until that day when we will fully know even as we are fully known.

All of this to say, this is what contemplation looks like – to hear what we already know again and again so that we may know what has been made known to us more deeply and more fully.

If we come back to Will, by hearing what he had known for years, he is finally able to step out from under the defense mechanisms he used to protect himself for fear of abandonment. Rather than getting the jump on others by discarding them before they get a chance to discard him, Will, in the final scene, is able to “go and see about a girl” (if you haven’t seen the movie, this line is much more poetic in the context of the film).

I suppose this is why we need to continually hear what we already know. We know about grace, but we need to continually hear it. When we don’t our lives so easily come to be defined by what we fear. And fear, if we can define it this way, is a distorted, grotesque form of desire. Fear is the cancerous result when our natural desire for safety and security multiplies uncontrollably and pushes out all other desires. The cure is not simply to suck it up and summon some strength from within to face our fears.

What is given to us in faith is to listen for a word that comes from outside of us.

This word is the word of God spoken to us in Jesus. Whatever word God has to say to us, God says to us in Jesus.

May we hear this word again and again and again. And in so doing, may our fears shrink and our desire to live truthfully and honestly and lovingly flourish within us.

Contemplation and Boredom

On the way to contemplation we will have to fight our aversion to boredom because to contemplate requires quiet spaces of stillness and for many of us that pretty much is the definition of boredom. For some of us we’ll also have to fight that feeling of “I know this already” (like Will). For others of us we’ll have to the fight the opposite feeling of “I don’t know what to think!”.

In this blog post entitled, Let’s Get Bored Together, C. Wess Daniels, who writes about spirituality and theology from a Quaker perspective, asks the question, “What if we saw boredom, or a regular, sustained stillness as a practice of resistance that could reclaim our lives and attention and perhaps our sanity?”.

In the post, you’ll find some helpful books you can read on the topic as well as some activities to try. One thing to note is that contemplation does not have to be about total silence (although it can include it). “Quiet spaces of stillness” in the way Daniels talks about it is more about a prolonged engagement with one thing in contrast to the frenetic and fragmented way we engage so much of our time online.

  • What’s one way you can learn to be bored this week?

Car Radio

I find myself coming back to this song a lot. You can read an old reflection on it here.

  • Take a listen and maybe as a way of prolonged engagement, write down some thoughts that this song may bring up for you.

Scripture

Matthew 20:20-28

It is interesting to note that James and John, who are center stage in this passage in Matthew 20 were also present at Jesus’ transfiguration back in Matthew 17:1-13. The whole point for them to witness Jesus’ transfiguration was so that they could hear the voice of God say to them, “This is my Son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!”

Then in Matthew 18:1-5 we have a scene where the disciples ask Jesus, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And Jesus replies, “Whoever takes the lowly position of [a child] is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”

Now in Matthew 20 they come to Jesus and ask for, in their estimation, the highest positions available in all the cosmos – those found at the right and left hand of Jesus. Jesus replies by saying, “You don’t know what you’re asking.” Meaning, if the kingdom works the way Jesus says it does in Matthew 18 (the lower the greater), then what James and John are asking for is actually the opposite of what they are hoping to get.

This is not to single out James and John, but to simply highlight the common struggle at the heart of Christian discipleship. It was there with the original disciples and it is most certainly here for us trying to follow Jesus some two thousand years later.

It is what prompted former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams to say this about contemplation:

Contemplation is very far from being just one kind of thing that Christians do: it is the key to prayer, liturgy, art and ethics, the key to the essence of a renewed humanity that is capable of seeing the world and other subjects in the world with freedom—freedom from self-oriented, acquisitive habits and the distorted understanding that comes from them. To put it boldly, contemplation is the only ultimate answer to the unreal and insane world that our financial systems and our advertising culture and our chaotic and unexamined emotions encourage us to inhabit. To learn contemplative practice is to learn what we need so as to live truthfully and honestly and lovingly. It is a deeply revolutionary matter.

  • What do you make of this statement? Is it an overstatement to say contemplation is a deeply revolutionary matter?
  • What might contemplation look like for you?

The Sugary Sweetness of Idolatry

Idolatry Playlist: Build Me Up Buttercup

Is it weird I have a playlist called “Idolatry”? Strange or not, I’d like to share some songs off that playlist as a way of exploring what the Bible calls idolatry.

As philosopher/theologian James KA Smith points out idolatry is less about false beliefs as it is about misplaced desire. We aren’t drawn into the control of an idol through by some compelling intellectual argument. Rather, idols work at the level of our wants — and what we want is something that often escapes our purview. We don’t always know what we want even when what we want is what animates our lives.

And so this series will explore this relationship between idolatry and desire.

The first song off the playlist is Build Me Up Buttercup.

If sugar had a melody, I think this would be it. The song was brought back into our collective consciousness a couple years back when Geico ran a series of commercials featuring the song:

Build Me Up Buttercup is the perfect sweetener to make something so bland as car insurance somewhat palatable.

While the tune embodies the feel-good quality of sugar, the lyrics remind us of the crash that comes after the high.

Why do you build me up (Build me up)
Buttercup, baby
Just to let me down? (Let me down)
And mess me around

If idolatry is like an addiction (the natural consequence of our misplaced desires), then sugar would be the gateway drug. We get drawn in by our immediate senses. The taste and the high keep us coming back for more even when we know the letdown is coming (not to mention the pounds!).

And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby
When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still
When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still
I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin’
So build me up (build me up) buttercup, don’t break my heart

That last line is telling.

While the chorus begins with the question, “Why do you build me up?” in some ways naming a plea for things to change. By the end of the chorus it becomes, “Build me up buttercup.” It is not an interrogation anymore. Now it is almost an appeal for the very thing that was at first questioned.

This is how idolatry works.

The name we give to this process of building up and letting down in our day and age is consumerism. While we may not literally bow down to golden calves anymore, idols have simply morphed into any thing and every thing.

It’s that feeling of anticipation when Amazon promises delivery at 10, but then there is a delay and it won’t come until the next day.

“I’ll be over at ten,” you told me time and again
But you’re late, I wait around and then
I went to the door, I can’t take anymore
It’s not you, you let me down again

This is all part of the building up.

And we may think that the letting down is a glitch in the system. It is not. It is a feature.

Idols have this remarkable ability to promise happiness through possessing it only to have it end up possessing us.

You were my toy but I could be the boy you adore
If you’d just let me know

The genius of idolatry, if we can call it that, is that our being possessed by the idol comes through the very means of our being let down. This is how the Bible describes it. When an idol doesn’t come through, the idolators double down on their devotion, believing that increased devotion will lead to the eventual fulfillment of whatever hope has been placed in the idol.

The way this plays out in our consumeristic economy is rather than double down on any one idol, we simply move on to the next one. There is always another thing; another product that attracts us, that builds us up. We feel that tinge of excitement, of anticipation. So we order it. And then we get it. We possess it. And there is some satisfaction, some amusement. But then inevitably we are letdown. So we move on to the next product. There is always the next product; the next thing that builds us up with anticipation. And the cycle repeats….on and on and on.

What this does is trap us in a kind of static state. We move up and then we move down. And we are tricked into thinking this repetitive movement, the constant building up and letting down, indicates some kind of development or progression. But really we are stuck in the same place.

This place is what Jesus calls living on bread alone.

Bread, like sugar, like many of the products that fill our closets, is not evil. It is good, but only to a certain degree. What we need to recognize is that there are deeper desires at work within us. Transcendent desires. Desires which we might name as our longing for the Good, the True, and the Beautiful — what Scripture calls “every word that comes from the mouth of God”.

What idolatry does to us is promise the Good and the True and the Beautiful in the form of bread alone. It keeps our focus on things that cannot and were never meant to satisfy those deeper longings. So instead of looking towards a nutritious meal full of proteins and greens idolatry says eat some more gummy bears.

This is the danger of consumerism. It ruins our appetite for the things that can feed the more substantial and weighty desires in us.

In the end, idols build us up, let us down and ultimately break our hearts.

Like sugar, Build Me Up Buttercup eases us into the dynamics of idolatry. As we continue on in the playlist we’ll see how things can get darker and more sinister.

Lent 2023 | Week 1: What Is It That You Want?

Faith, Works and Desire

In the Christian life, we are well acquainted with the faith and works divide. That is, faith should show itself in works or else it is dead (James 2:26). Good belief leads to good works. And so, naturally, we focus a lot on faith, or what we believe, thinking that getting more and better beliefs will yield more and better works.

But what if we are missing an integral link that connects belief with good works?

What if there is another piece to the puzzle?

During this season of Lent, we want to consider that the additional ingredient we might need to add to the faith-works recipe, is desire. That perhaps the question which drives so much of our lives is not what we believe, but what we want.

What is it that I want? Or to put it more clearly, “What is it that I really want?”

It is not as easy a question to answer as we might expect. Mostly because so many of our desires are hidden from us. They run on in the background, all the while running (ruining?) our lives, without our knowing.

So over the next six weeks, we want to take a long hard look at the question, “What is it that I want?”

It is a slippery question. What we need are some handles that will allow us to hold our desires up to us, just long enough so that we can answer this question honestly and truthfully. For every week of Lent, we’ll be providing some resources here to help us do just that.

Scripture

Take some time to sit with Matthew 20:20-28. (This is a passage we will be coming back to every week of Lent).

  • If you are inclined, write this passage out put by hand. If not, make sure you read it slowly and repeatedly (2-3 times).
  • For this week, just jot down whatever comes to mind through this passage: questions, thoughts, observations, etc.

Thick and Thin Desires

Author Luis Burgis talks about how important it is to take the time to listen to our lives. We need this time in order to hear those moments that have brought a sense of deep fulfillment to us.

  • What are those moments of fulfillment for you? How might they help you to identify your “thick” desires?
  • Consider your daily life and ask what your “thin” desires are? Do they occupy an inordinate amount of your time?
  • How might you give more weight to your “thick” desires?

Living By Bread Alone

Theologian Miraslov Volf, writes about living by bread alone. We could say that living by bread alone, is living by “thin desires” alone:

When we live by bread alone there’s never enough bread. Not even enough when we make so much of it that some of it rots away. When we live by bread alone someone always go hungry. When we live by bread alone every bite we take leaves a bitter aftertaste and the more we eat the more bitter the taste. When we live by bread alone we always want more and better bread as if the bitterness was in the not having enough bread and not in living by bread alone.

Miraslav Volf
  • Take some time this week to reflect on what “bread” looks like in your own life.
  • In what ways are you left with the bitter aftertaste of living by bread alone?

Lenten Reflection Series – Homecoming in COVID-19

Before I get into the post, I want to address some critical points in which understanding this post will make sense. 1) These are my thoughts, observations, and reflections on things I have seen throughout the pandemic and in Christ Kaleidoscope. In other words, I am not complaining, nor is this an evaluation of people. It may be uncomfortable to read this post, but this is not coming from a place of condescension or anger, but from a place of discipline in acknowledging my own vulnerability. 2) This particular post requires much more than what I originally anticipated. Originally, I wanted to give a brief overview of my experience of the pandemic and connect it to American society and pop culture. I mean, I can still do that! However, I know myself too well to be satisfied with that plan. Meaning, this post would require some theology. 3) The theological literature on “place” and/or “displacement” is not a discipline that I am too familiar with and not as easily accessible to the general public. Therefore, it requires me to look into more academic and “heady” literature. I confess that I don’t think I fully understand the theology of “place”, but I will try to distill some of the more digestible thoughts. Was this an excuse for me to read academic and theologically heavy works? You tell me. 4) This is not a post on how the pandemic affected my mental health, but it will shed some light on my mental state throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. If you are curious how I am doing now, I am doing great and I am grateful that is the case!

J.R.R. Tolkien and Lord of the Rings

 As a World War I veteran who notably fought in the bloody Battle of Somme and lived through the most destructive war in our history (World War II), J.R.R. Tolkien and his experience with both world wars reflected deeply in his work. Tolkien hated allegories and never meant for anything from Middle Earth to directly represent something in our world. However, his ideas, thoughts, and understanding of war and the human condition clearly leaked into his written work. As a result, in regards to a soldier’s homecoming, he knew and understood the experience that soldiers would feel after being confronted by the fears and sadness of war – a sense of displacement.

LOTR The Return of the King – Homeward Bound

The moment we find our four hobbits back in the Shire and in the pub is a poignant one. The director, Peter Jackson, beautifully captures the feeling of displacement for our heroes. Not because the other hobbits are completely oblivious or don’t care, but because the Shire hobbits lived experiences no longer match with Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin anymore. Therefore, the feeling of “not fitting in” and isolation creeps up on them. They look at each other and think “what do we do now? After all we’ve seen, after all we’ve experienced, how do we go back to our normal lives?” However, all is not lost for our four heroes and we see that they begin to joyfully acclimate back into their old lives (more or less), but somehow we still see Frodo feeling off. The clip ends right before we get to hear Frodo’s monologue:

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold.”

This movie quote is quite dramatic (I mean it is a movie); however, Frodo’s speech gets to the heart of what Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were feeling at the pub the night they came back home. 

I have watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy over the years and I understood, intellectually, what was going on during the pub scene. However, after living through COVID-19 for two years now, I can say with absolute certainty, I truly understand what Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were feeling in that moment of silence surrounded by joyful drinking and laughter. 

Two Realities During COVID-19

On September 20 of 2021, The Atlantic published a story, Another Truth About Remote Work, that clarified Americans’ misconceptions about the prevalence of working from home. The Atlantic commissioned a poll from a Canadian-owned market research and analytics company called Leger. The poll asked Americans to estimate how many people had worked from home during the pandemic. The results were not entirely surprising: those working remotely tended to overestimate how many people were doing the same.

“Seventy-three percent of survey respondents who had teleworked because of the pandemic guessed that at least half of American employees had done the same. But the actual number of people who worked remotely because of COVID-19 was, at its highest point, roughly 35 percent, way back in May 2020. Let’s skip ahead to last month: About 90 percent of surveyed respondents who worked from home in August because of the pandemic guessed that at least 40 percent of American workers did too. In reality, only 13.4 percent worked from home in the final month of summer.

Part of the reason for the discrepancy comes down to basic psychology. Human beings tend to believe that other people are like us, that our thoughts and opinions are more common than they actually are, the sociologists I interviewed for this story told me. But when I answered that question so wrongly back in March, I felt a pang of embarrassment; I was out of touch. “People don’t have a great sense anymore of what the lives of others across the economic divide look like,” Jonathan J. B. Mijs, a sociology professor at Boston University, told me.”

The media coverage, in regards to working from home during the early parts of the pandemic, talked about Zoom fatigue, how to be more productive at home, and the 11 most comfortable pants to wear when working from home. Christ Kaleidoscope is hardly the exact picture of what all Americans were doing and dealing with throughout the pandemic – majority of people in the community were working from home and staying put. Understandably, it was tough for all of us to stay away from family and loved ones during a global pandemic. While I am glad I heard stories of people playing video games together, getting into a sourdough bread-making phase, staying in shape, or starting new hobbies, I could not help but recognize that I was living a different kind of reality than 98% of the people in CK.

During the winter surge of late 2020 and early 2021, every day I counted how many sirens I would hear from outside as a sort of game to myself. I eventually stopped counting after a while, but I think on average I was hearing a total of 20 sirens going off a day. I would come out day in and day out seeing multiple fire trucks and ambulances parked outside the Emergency Room with lines of patients on gurneys (attached to oxygen) waiting to be admitted into an already full-packed department. Like an In-N-Out employee, when the drive-thru line gets too long and busy, someone would always come out to begin admitting each patient and do a complete medical workup. 

This is one of the stories I usually tell people whenever they ask me about what it was like during the first surge of COVID-19. This is one of the milder stories I tell. However, I found myself not telling many stories about what I saw throughout the pandemic. Not because I didn’t have any stories to tell or I was too sad about what was happening, but because there was a sinking feeling in my gut that told me that no one really wanted to hear them. Moreover, I felt that no one could really understand or relate with me unless they were in healthcare themselves. I wasn’t the only one who had this thought. This language of us vs. them, healthcare vs. non-healthcare, or frontline workers vs. people working from home was ubiquitous on the healthcare threads of Reddit. Doctors, nurses, and emergency service workers complained how family, friends, and the public didn’t really fully understand what was going on. Not just what the pandemic has done to our healthcare system, but also how dangerous COVID-19 truly is. “They don’t see what we’ve been seeing! They don’t understand!” they would exclaim.

Living through COVID-19 and coming back into a community like Christ Kaleidoscope has been a jarring experience for two reasons. 1) People seem to easily get back into the rhythm of talking as if no time has passed for them. It was obviously easier for people who worked from home to relate to one another. In contrast, from the perspective of someone living in what seems to be a liminal space, it was-and still is-hard to be present. It was easier for me to relate with my coworkers and other healthcare workers. 2) Risk factors are understandably, but frustratingly different. Although I hold a pretty safe and conservative view towards COVID-19 safety, it is tough to hold strong safety views in a community full of non-healthcare workers. 

This has led to many thoughts and feelings of displacement for me in Christ Kaleidoscope. If I am to be completely honest, that sense of displacement when I am with people hasn’t fully gone away for me. Yes, I have since worked through it, but it will always linger in the back of my mind. As a result, this caused a sense of loss in my identity and belonging in a church community. In other words, I gave up on my identity as a member of a church community that was taken from me by COVID-19 and quarantine because, throughout this entire pandemic, I was always reminded that I had been living a very different life than most people in CK.  

Theology of Place and Displacement

We live in an era of displacement. Our country has undocumented people who are deported, sent back to a “home country” that many do not consider home. Others live in fear of deportation, trapped in the precarious space of the in-between. We can also use the Russia-Ukraine war as a prime example of displacement found in our world. Displacement raises existential questions (human personhood, meaning, suffering, and belonging) to which the church is called to think theologically and respond to displacement.

The concept of “place” invokes the language of “making room” or “making space”. Within the Christian context, “place” is often defined as socio-spatial communities of creaturely life and is a means of grace by which God reveals himself to us.

What we find in the Christian tradition is a great deal of understanding of “place”. That is, the Christian faith answers the question of how Christianity can be good news in a world of displacement and loss of “place”. Theologically, we answer this question by saying the means of inhabiting creation is God in Christ investing himself in creation and reveals God as thoroughly committed to its good, to make it a place again for the fullness of creaturely life in God’s presence. In other words, the incarnation, death, and resurrection are God’s acts of self-revelation and are demonstrating God’s devotion to be fully present by inhabiting a place of creation. As a result, the risen Christ makes the church his body and calls it to inhabit creation as himself: a bodily manifestation (or eikon) that makes space in creation for creaturely life to flourish.

There And Back Again?

I don’t know if there’s an answer to how we can reconcile the two realities. I think in giving a suggestion or an answer, it would come off as dismissive to how someone might think and feel. I have learned that I’m not a fan of receiving unsolicited advice, so I’m going to avoid giving one out. For that reason, I’m gonna end this post with a Lord of the Rings quote. I think this quote is the necessary language of encouragement and gentle wisdom for people who feel displaced and for people who can make space for others should hear:

Frodo: “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf: “So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

Lenten Reflection Series – COVID-19 As a Global Lenten Practice

Loss vs Sacrifice

Video games, at their best, are artistically and narratively compelling blockbusters. Often allowing players to be transported into new kinds of realities, perspectives, and mythos that can speak to our human condition. Not many video games masterfully do this well, but there are gems and dialogues that can capture someone’s attention and imagination.

In the last decade or so, YouTube started seeing an increase of videos where people would upload all a video game’s cutscenes and a few gameplays to seamlessly create a movie-like experience. This is great for people like me who want to experience a compelling story without actually playing the game (and at 2 times the speed at that!).

Tomb Raider’s 2013 reboot of a young Lara Croft was one of those games for me. The story begins with Lara, our protagonist, going through an emotional growth arc throughout the game, beginning with a scared young woman washed ashore on a dangerous jungle island to a kick-ass heroine who is prepared to do what is necessary to survive at the end of the story. It is in this kind of media-the circumstance that the protagonist finds herself plays a big role too-that we sometimes get some food for thought on the human condition during an exchange of two characters:

“Sacrifice is a choice you make. Loss is a choice made for you.”

America and COVID-19

On March 1, 2022, during his State of the Union, President Biden announced the good news that the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention issued a new masking guideline for all Americans- most Americans are now free to not wear masks. He then goes on in his speech to acknowledge what COVID-19 is and has done and what he hopes the future of America would look like.

We have lost so much to COVID-19. Time with one another. And worst of all, so much loss of life. Let’s use this moment to reset. Let’s stop looking at COVID-19 as a partisan dividing line and see it for what it is: A God-awful disease. Let’s stop seeing each other as enemies, and start seeing each other for who we really are: Fellow Americans. We can’t change how divided we’ve been. But we can change how we move forward—on COVID-19 and other issues we must face together. ”

Like Biden, many politicians in the past couple of months have spoken to this idea of moving past COVID-19 and looking forward to the future where we recognize COVID-19 as an “endemic”.

Lent

Lent is a forty-day season of reflection and preparation for the death of Jesus. It is a time of repentance and meditation, of considering Christ’s suffering and rethinking how we are called to take up our own crosses. Some of us give up things like chocolate or television during this season as a sort of fasting. As a result, we are left to rethink how we live and how we want to live. However, Lent is not necessarily a New Year’s resolution for Christians. Yes, we sacrifice and give up certain pleasures and bad habits, not because of self-improvement or righteous piety, but to reorient our lives towards the cross.

Additionally, Lent is not simply about mirroring Jesus’ fasting in the desert for forty-days and the temptations he had by Satan. Lent is a season where we hear, respond, and arrange our lives to Jesus’ call and the cross. It is a season of giving over our lives to Christ in union with his pending death. The German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer said it best, “when Christ calls a man, He bids him to come and die”.

Loss, Sacrifice, COVID-19, and Lent

Dr. Ajita Robinson, a licensed clinical counselor with expertise in grief and trauma defines loss as two categories: “physical loss” and “symbolic loss”. “Physical loss” are things that can be easily named that involve something tangible or something that can be seen. A physical loss can be a death of a loved one or a house due to fire or eviction. “Symbolic loss” on the other hand are things that we can’t see or are intrinsically intangible. A symbolic loss can be losing a sense of control or identity. However, Dr. Robinson states, “we don’t even see them as losses”. She further explains that “the challenging part of the symbolic loss is that we don’t have rituals or built-in support systems for them. So oftentimes they can accumulate when we don’t have the language to name them. This accumulation can trigger the same grief response as a physical loss”.

What does, loss, sacrifice, COVID-19, and Lent have to do with one another? True, the sacrifices that we do as Lenten practices aren’t the same as the kind of physical loss found through the pandemic. However, what this reflection series is getting at (and what I’m hoping that I’m correctly arguing for) is that we gave up on the symbolic losses that were dealt to us by the pandemic.

Whether it was for the sake of politics, mental well-being, technology, routine, etc., like a poker player, we made a calculated choice to sacrifice certain card(s) that the dealer handed to us.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the answers, nor do I know what we can do from here. It’s simply my reflections and my experience in looking at the past two years. However, maybe looking at COVID-19 as a Lenten experience can allow us to find the necessary language needed during this Lenten season and to live in this new “post-COVID” world.