Beauty

If you haven't read my previous posts "A long post" and "A stab at the dark", please do so before reading this one.



"Why, Mr. Anderson? Why? Why?

Why do you do it? Why get up? Why keep fighting?

Do you believe you're fighting for something, something more than your survival?

Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know?

Is it freedom, or truth, perhaps peace? Could it be love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the matrix itself.

Although, only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love.

You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now. You can't win. It's pointless to keep fighting.

Why, Mr. Anderson? Why? Why? Why do you persist?"


"Because I choose to..."


The picture above is a mediocre shot taken out the kitchen window of my inlaws house. They have a very nice garden out there with this japanese maple. But, I took this picture because a few minutes prior I had been accosted by the 'beauty' of it. I bet you know what I'm talking about. You're going about your day when something catches you. Sometimes, it's a scene, or a face, a mountain, or a stream. Often, for me, it's a piece of music.

Usually, it's gone as quickly as it arrives. It arrives and departs out of my control. Of course, there are experiences where I have some say - like the beauty of the Bach music I'm listening to now. I can plop this CD in anytime. But, even then, if I overplay it, the magic goes. At best, it's on loan.

So, while I desperately wish it were otherwise, I know there is something that I hunger for that I do not and cannot possess. I cannot control or hoard it. If and when I receive it, it comes as a gift.

And, there's another interesting thing I've noticed. While that moment of experiencing the beauty of that fall scene left a pang, the pang came as a result of the moment fleeting away. There was nothing sad in the experience itself. I've noticed this to be different than the beauty created by humans (yes, we do have that capability). At least when it comes to music, it seems to me that beautiful music is almost always sorrowful. There is almost a direct correlation - the more beautiful, the more sorrowful. Again, it points to a desire that is beyond me (us). As a human, I can only create it by expressing it's absence.

I hope you see the connection to the Matrix Revolutions quote.

There are those who are materialists. They believe that my moment of being accosted by beauty was nothing more than electrochemical reactions occuring in my body and brain as a result of photons reflected off the tree and through the window and into my retinas. I can't prove them wrong and, often, to think otherwise does seem feeble and insipid.

There are other reasons for not being a materialist, but for me the most powerful reason is this experience of beauty. In the end, I choose to believe that this gift has a reality beyond the material and, that when there is a gift, there is a Giver. I choose to believe that beauty does point to something beyond photons, chemicals, and neurons.

So, while I can very much relate to those who choose athiesm and/or materialism (can one be an atheist without being a materialist?), it's not the path for me. And that despite the fact that I so often wrestle with feelings of estrangement and disillusionment with respect to the Giver.

By the way, I hope that no one will think I'm equating the evil of Agent Smith with atheism or materialism. His evil has to do with wishing to deny the freedom to choose, not the choice that is made. This evil occurs on both sides of this fence.

Hagrid

One of my best friends I call Hagrid. I'm not shy about calling him that and I consider it a significant compliment. As far as I know, he's never seen any of the Harry Potter movies or read any of the books, so he doesn't really know why I call him that.

He does resemble Rubeus Hagrid some, but that's not primarily why I gave him the name.

There are quite a few character traits he shares with Ruby. First, he is refreshingly without pretense. He speaks his mind rather freely (though, he often regrets it - without warrant in my opinion). He carries himself as a simple man, but he is very intelligent and insightful. He doesn't tend to be subject to what others think.

Second, he is incredibly loyal. He can be counted on for the important things. While he can't always be trusted with a secret, I'd trust him with my life.

Third, he is often misjudged and those who misjudge him end up reflecting badly on themselves rather than him.

In several ways, I wish I was as free as he is, especially when it comes to telling people I love them.

Once there was a way...

I've been thinking about lost things the last week or so. I'm in Portland right now and the trip is going well except for the fact that the airline lost my luggage. By the time I got here, most stores were closed. But, what's this? Nordstrom's is open late due to some cosmetics sale or something! Such a shame! I'll just have to buy a shirt and a few other essentials... (I really like Nordstroms, but these days, I can't afford to shop there).

Last week I was in the Boston area. I lived there when I was in kindergarten. It would have been fun to have gone by the old house, but I have no idea how to find it. Once there was a way...

Sometimes you can reconnect with old friends - like I did at the reunion. It's great when that happens. Sometimes, however, it doesn't work that way. There is a friend who was in my wedding party. We went separate ways and I really doubt I'll ever see him again.

Everyone needs to leave home in various ways. It's part of growing as a person. But if one loses the way back, that makes for a very sad song.

A stab at the dark

I've got some time this evening, so I thought I might take a stab at the dark side of my spiritual ambivalence. Here, I don't have any book to fall back on - just raw experience.

Again, if spiritual talk is not your thing, please just skip this one.

Let me start with an experience Lisa and I had about three years or so ago. After Jon's illness and death, we did not socialize for quite a while. Partly because we were hurting too much and partly because our free time was taken up with grief groups and supporting each other in the immediate family. One of the first times out (maybe the first) was dinner at some friends' house. After dinner, our host was relating how he had been praying for a significant material item (on the order of a car) and, lo and behold, just the one they wanted became available for a bargain price. Wasn't God great!?

Lisa and I kind of nodded our heads and knew we were thinking the same complicated thoughts.

But, Joe (not his real name), God didn't heal our son. What do we make of a God that gives you this thing, but takes our son at age fourteen when hundreds, if not thousands, of people prayed for his healing?

Somehow, the easy, intellectual answers (God is sovereign, there's some things we just can't understand, etc.) just didn't cut it any longer. Perhaps, this is something that cannot be grasped unless you've experienced that sort of loss.

It was like suddenly, having hope and trust, while right and desireable, was exceedingly expensive. Also, it seemed somehow inappropriate to even ask for something material, almost like it was shallow or petty. It was abundantly clear that a formulaic type of faith (if I do this, God will do that) had also died on that bed on 7th Mott.

What was left was confusion. If looking to God for an answer is too risky, what, pragmatically speaking, is God good for? Or, perhaps better stated, if formulaic faith has died, what takes its place?

But, maybe formulaic faith is not really faith. Maybe real faith only exists when you know there are no easy answers and that you might chuck it all tomorrow. That is, when it continually requires a willful choice to put down that huge ante to stay in the game.

"Man does not live by bread alone..."

"Give us this day..."

wonderful weekend whirlwind

"Here comes the twister...". Sorry, I couldn't resist an obscure Talking Heads reference.

We were in A² this weekend and it was wonderful. As usual, it was late when we left and everything was too short, except the drives. Even they went remarkably well. When we left, I-90 was shut down at Buffalo due to there being 20" of snow on the ground. We planned to go as far as we could on it and then head south, which would require an additional couple of hours. We notified Lisa's folks that we would be in late (we were their guests - Thanks Mom and Dad!) and they said they would pray for safe travels. Well, we reached exit 46 in Rochester where the highway was closed and we were listening to a travel report on the Rochester PBS station state that it was still closed. But, looking a mile or two ahead, Lisa could see that a few cars were going past the exit. We reached the exit literally right as the workers were taking down the detour signs and were able to proceed and go through Canada. We got in before 1:00 AM.

The reason for the trip was the baptism of LR Grace. She's been a close friend of Beth's since they were six or so. LR's baptism is an interesting story, but I'll have to leave it for another time.

Saturday, we started the day with a trip to the Z, of course. Mom and Dad G joined us, even though it's not really their kind of place (can this be?). We had a few minutes over lattes and scones to catch up. But, from there, it abruptly went downhill for me. First, the library sale was not open and then I found out that the two people I had hoped to see in the afternoon were not available. So, being quite tired from an intense work week and a long and late night drive, I went back to the house and rested as best I could.

On the way back to the house, Lisa informed me that our 30th highschool reunion was that evening and that she intended to go. Being the introvert I am, this did not make me happy! But, I didn't want her to go alone so I resolved to gear up and go. She promised we could leave early - 8:30 at the latest. Well, we finally left around 1o:30 when I realized we really needed to go if we were going to have any time with Scott and Tam. Yes, that's right. We left two hours later than expected because I was having such a good time. I unexpectedly found myself neither strange, nor a stranger (sorry, again, another reference). People I would not have expected seemed delighted to see me. It made me rethink my highschool experience and wonder how much of the social rejection that characterized that experience was only in my head.

Sunday was basically about the baptism service. The thing I liked best about it was the joy of LR and Beth's happiness. It was like a moment when we could all put aside our doubts and ambivalences and just be happy. So, we did and it was very good.

The last thing that was wonderful was being able to tell all of my dear friends (like 'Give me some love' Hagrid and Mommy Staufer) that my depression appears healed or at least in solid remission. It seems a very dark and long chapter of grief has ended.

To sum up, it was weekend inwhich I realized that relationally I am a very wealthy person.

Weekend guest or... ?

He came running as soon as I started shaking the yogurt container, as I knew he would. I placed the lid yogurt-side up and watched with my usual small pleasure as he scooted it around the floor, licking the yogurt off.

He dispensed with the yogurt quickly and, looking up at me, said "We gotta talk. Sit down". The curled lip, the not-so-subtly exposed bicuspid, and the stationary tail made it clear that I'd better do as told.

"OK, it's like this, see. You know that lady who's been here the last few days?".

'ML?', says I.

"Dat's the one. It's about time someone treats me with the attention and affection that I deserve."

'She does seem to be very fond of you', I said.

"Right. Cut the small talk. She needs to move in. So does that tall guy. I need someone to do tug of war with."

'Well, it's true that you are a bit neglected..'

"You won't go there, if you knows what's good for you.", he barked.

'But ML is married..'

"Her husband can move in, too."

'I'm not sure we have enough rooms. What will we do when Beth comes home?'

"Not a problem. You can stay in that little house in the back."

With that, he walked away, toenails clicking. "Make it happen.", he said with a growl.

A long post

Be forewarned, this is gonna be long. And, it's about faith. I will in no way be offended by anyone who skips it.

Since I've been an adult (the last ten years or so, really), I haven't been one to shy away from discussing faith, theology and/or religion. So, when I say that I've struggled a bit introducing it to this blog, it hasn't been for the typical reason.

It's like this: while faith is hugely important in my life, pivotal really, there is probably nothing I'm more ambivalent about. I often find myself envious of those for whom faith is an uncomplicated thing, whether they believe or not.

I guess I'm just a typical postmodern. Or, maybe, I'm a prophet - scary thought, that. It seems they typically experienced things the way I do.

Anyway, I was handed a book by a friend at church today and, upon reading the first page, I knew I had what I needed to broach the topic. So, I quote:

'Perhaps my single greatest disappointment in most of the world's religions is that they succeeded, against all odds, in making most people afraid of God! Do you realize how absurd and horrible that is? It pretty much makes it an unsafe and scary universe at the core, where no one is at home and everyone is paranoid. It makes the mystical adventure impossible. It turns religion into a self-serving brokerage business, always picking up the pieces after a kind of "taught and learned helplessness." The result has been massive neuroses, nonstop aggression and a phenomenon unique to the West: atheism.
...
Anyone who has any authentic inner experience knows that God is only beauty, mercy and total embrace, and nothing but beauty, mercy and total embrace. The trinitarian nature of God makes that theologically certain. The only people who don't know that are those who have never sought God's face. In my experience there is an almost complete correllation between the degree of emphasis one puts on obligations, moralities, ritual performance and one's lack of any real inner experience. Once you know for yourself, you will be plenty "moral", in fact, even more so, but it all proceeds from a free response, from the Trinitarian flow passing though you. It is a response, not a requirement, an effect of having known love, not a precondition for getting love. God is always the initiator, always good, always available, and the flow is always free.'

Quoted from 'From Wild Man to Wise Man' by Richard Rohr and Joseph Martos.

I find this to be an excellent summary of the positive side of my ambivalence. I would love it if this post prompted a broad range of comments.