"She's such a bitch, but yet I'm strangely attracted to her." Some people enter life recognizing their divine right to authority and power. Others recognize their subservient status to their
People innately subscribe to, while not always conscientiously, a social hierarchy that guides social behavior. Humanity's social hierarchy can be broken down into two categories on the basis of perceived concept. The clichéd haves and have-nots denote distinct differences in self-concept levels.
The perceived haves' attain preferable status because in those people there is a perceived sense of differentiation (the quality of being complete without regards to other stimuli) that draws others to them. Most people recognize a deficiency in their existence so they seek out those who portray no such problem. The haves' typically have confidence which allows them to continue during an otherwise problematic task.
The perceived have-nots' are lowered because they require the assistance of others to fulfill themselves. They see the haves' and desire the haves' confidence. To attain this, they will do whatever is necessary to stay the the presence of the haves even if this means humiliation on the have-nots' part.
From a fundamentalist standpoint, a person ought to be the perceived differentiated individual. This person does not need anyone, yet they only "rely on Jesus" resulting in a possible completion. This often leads to arrogance. From a more contemporary standpoint, a person ought to be the have-not. This person recognizes their own brokenness and constantly seeks the community for support. This often leads to the cheap grace mentality which Bonhoeffer spoke about.
Can there be a fusion between the two? A follower of Christ should recognize that they need community and the person of Christ to reach out to the world, but are capable of so much more. Can we be the haves' and the have-nots' simultaneously? We must hold those in tension because in either extreme the gospel is lost.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
That's who I am.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Where were you when the world stopped turning?
I label things.
I hate to admit it but I do. My computer's desktop has one object on it, the recycle bin (and only that because I cannot make it disappear!) Notes from class, assignments, even appointments in outlook all belong in their particular folder and sub-folder. Everything is alphabetized. It has it's place. Everything works well until in my haste of exiting class; I put something in the wrong sub-folder. It becomes lost in the abyss.
Often labels became attached to a reality. Therefore, we love the label. We cling to the label. The labels help everything make sense. Categories become codependent forms of life. We need them.
It's funny about labels, names and categories. They only work when the system works. When the system malfunctions, labels don't mean a thing. When your worldview is destroyed, the labels that you used to describe the old world only confuse the new world. When your label is broken, where do you find ways to evaluate the world around you? When what you once called good, really isn't holistically good, what becomes of it?
What does this mean for daily living, theology, philosophy, relationships even sports? What happens when the world can't be explained? What do you call that?
I hate to admit it but I do. My computer's desktop has one object on it, the recycle bin (and only that because I cannot make it disappear!) Notes from class, assignments, even appointments in outlook all belong in their particular folder and sub-folder. Everything is alphabetized. It has it's place. Everything works well until in my haste of exiting class; I put something in the wrong sub-folder. It becomes lost in the abyss.
Often labels became attached to a reality. Therefore, we love the label. We cling to the label. The labels help everything make sense. Categories become codependent forms of life. We need them.
It's funny about labels, names and categories. They only work when the system works. When the system malfunctions, labels don't mean a thing. When your worldview is destroyed, the labels that you used to describe the old world only confuse the new world. When your label is broken, where do you find ways to evaluate the world around you? When what you once called good, really isn't holistically good, what becomes of it?
What does this mean for daily living, theology, philosophy, relationships even sports? What happens when the world can't be explained? What do you call that?
Monday, March 5, 2007
Every step you take...
"Just one more mile, ouch."
"Come on, one foot in front of the other."
"A little farther."
These phrases glimmered in the painful mask in my mind for several hours yesterday. My first marathon attempt: 26.2 grueling miles in the Los Angeles heatwave winter. All went well until mile six when a twinge reminded me that I had not healed fully yet from plantar fasciitis. Not to be distracted by a small amount of pain, I continued until mile ten where a similar eruption in pain occurred in the right foot. I plowed through 8 more miles until my collapse. I couldn't will the pain to stop. I couldn't control it.
Humanity tries so hard to control everything. We cultivate the land to control our food. We set up hospitals to control sickness. Even time which by its very nature cannot be stopped, we tame it by creating finite measurements for it. We have to be in control. We run marathons on feet that cannot handle the pressure because in our arrogance we must be free from all constraints.
However, it is that same arrogance which keeps us from remembering the poverty of our situation. We cannot make it on our own. We are "earthen vessels." We are "facing the dark walls, never to see beyond our faces" (Plato, The Republic). Something must transcend humanity to heal it. Thus, it is in our poverty, that God is exalted. A good message for the Lenten season.
"Come on, one foot in front of the other."
"A little farther."
These phrases glimmered in the painful mask in my mind for several hours yesterday. My first marathon attempt: 26.2 grueling miles in the Los Angeles heatwave winter. All went well until mile six when a twinge reminded me that I had not healed fully yet from plantar fasciitis. Not to be distracted by a small amount of pain, I continued until mile ten where a similar eruption in pain occurred in the right foot. I plowed through 8 more miles until my collapse. I couldn't will the pain to stop. I couldn't control it.
Humanity tries so hard to control everything. We cultivate the land to control our food. We set up hospitals to control sickness. Even time which by its very nature cannot be stopped, we tame it by creating finite measurements for it. We have to be in control. We run marathons on feet that cannot handle the pressure because in our arrogance we must be free from all constraints.
However, it is that same arrogance which keeps us from remembering the poverty of our situation. We cannot make it on our own. We are "earthen vessels." We are "facing the dark walls, never to see beyond our faces" (Plato, The Republic). Something must transcend humanity to heal it. Thus, it is in our poverty, that God is exalted. A good message for the Lenten season.
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