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Friday, 01 January 2010

  • Oy vay.  Korean church dynamics makes my heart ache with sorrow.  I feel like I am still working through and healing from my own wounds growing up within one as a child.  There was always a constant fear of being judged and measured for my accomplishments and -- even more severely -- my shortcomings. 

    Too often, gossip and back-biting is the norm:  people just keep sinning against one another, both hurting others and being the recipients of hurt.  It's really true that words can breathe life or death.  No one wants to admit fault or lose face but, in the process, we all end up losing out on community as God intended. 

    Redemptive, authentic community is challenging and, often, you get the crap beat out of you.  But, the alternative -- a safe, superficial, unexamined life -- is intolerable.  That's the cross we all need to take up:  to keep getting up and giving of ourselves because Christ's death on the cross calls us for an existence of meaning.  We each need to take responsibility for our own actions and, in doing so, have unwaivering faith that God delights in our obedience. 

    Lord, You are my portion.  Please build in me the strength to know and persist in knowing that You are sufficient.  Help me stand firm in the face of disillusionment and discouragement because You provide a hope that cannot be taken away, even by Death itself.



Thursday, 26 November 2009

  • Brave New World

    Okay, I haven't been as consistent with my blogging as I had hoped to be during my time in Bogota.  However, trust me, my life has been pretty uneventful for the most part.  It's been quiet and slow in a good way, because I constantly find myself in the tension of finding my identity in doing vs. being.  Thus, it's been a much-needed time of reflection and rest...

    My Colombian host brothers both highly recommended reading the novel "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley (1932).  It had not crossed my path during my high school or college years as a flaming English nerd.  I found the book disturbing for the most part, as it described the modern world as a most sterile, hierarchically-ordered, and brain-washed society.  My sentiments about the novel did not do a 180 until I reached chapter 17 of 18, which I have selectively transcribed passages below (pgs 231-240):

    "But if you know about God, why don't you tell them?" asked the Savage indignantly.  "Why don't you give them these books about God?" [referring to the Bible and other theological texts]

    "For the same reason as we don't give them Othello: they're old, they're about God hundreds of years ago.  Not about God now."

    "But God doesn't change."

    "Men do, though."

    "What difference does that make?"

    "All the difference in the world," said Mustapha Mond.  He got up again and walked to the safe.  "There was a man called Cardinal Newman," he said... [Newman wrote] "'We are not our own any more than what we possess is our own.  We did not make ourselves, we cannot be supreme over ourselves.  We are not our own masters.  We are God's property.  It is not our happiness thus to view the matter?  Is it any happiness or any comfort, to consider that we are our own?  It may be thought so by the young and prosperous.  These may think it a great thing to have everything, as they suppose, their own way--to depend on no one--to have to think of nothing out of sight, to be without the irksomeness of continual acknowledgement, continual prayer, continual reference of what they do to the will of another.  But as time goes on, they, as all men, will find that independence was not made for man--that it is an unnatural state--will do for a while, but will not carry us on safely to the end. . .'" Mustapha Mond paused, put down the first book and, picking up the other, turned over the pages.  "Take this, for example," he said, and in his deep voice once more began to read: [Maine de Biran wrote] "'A man grows old; he feels in himself that radical sense of weakness, of listlessness, of discomfort, which accompanies the advance of age; and, feeling thus, imagines himself merely sick, lulling his fears with the notion that this distressing condition is due to some particular cause, from which, as from an illness, he hopes to recover.  Vain imaginings!  That sickness is old age; and a horrible disease that is.  They say that it is the fear of death and of what comes after death that makes men turn to religion as they advance in years.  But my own experience has given me the conviction that, quite apart from any such terrors or imaginings, the religious sentiment tends to develop as we grow older; to develop because, as the passions grow calm, as the fancy and sensibilities are less excited and less excitable, our reason becomes less troubled in its working, less obscured by the images, desires and distraction, in which it used to be absorbed, whereupon God emerges as from being a cloud; turns naturally and inevitably; for now that all that gave to the world of sensations its life and charms has begun to leak away from us, now that phenomenal existence is no more bolstered up by impressions from within or from without, we feel the need to lean on something that abides, something that will never play us false--a reality, an absolute and everlasting truth.  Yes, we inevitably turn to God; for this religious sentiment is of its nature so pure, so delightful to the soul that experiences it, that it makes up to us for all our other losses.'"  Mustapha Mond shut the book and leaned back in his chair.  "One of the numerous things in heaven and earth that these philosophers didn't dream out was this" (he waved his hand), "us, the modern world.  'You can only be independent of God while you've got youth and prosperity, independence won't take you safely to the end.'  Well, we've now got youth and prosperity right up to the end.  What follows?  Evidently, that we can be independent of God.  'The religious sentiment will compensate us for all our losses.'  But there aren't any losses for us to compensate, religious sentiment is superfluous.  And why should we go hunting for a substitute for youthful desires, when youthful desires never fail?  A substitute for distractions, when we go on enjoying all the old fooleries to the very last?  What need have we of repose when our minds and bodies continue to delight in activity? of consolation, when we have soma? of something immoveable, when there is social order?"

    "Then you think there is no God?"

    "No, I think there quite probably is one."

    "Then why? . . ."

    Mustapha Mond checked him.  "But he manifests himself in different ways to different men.  In premodern times he manifested himself as the being that's described in these books.  Now . . ."

    "How does he manifest himself now?" asked the Savage.

    "Well, he manifests himself as an absence; as though he weren't there at all."

    "That's your fault."

    "Call it the fault of civilization.  God isn't compatible with machinery and scientific medicine and universal happiness.  You must make your choice.  Our civilization has chosen machinery and medicine and happiness.  That's why I have to keep these books locked up in the safe.  They're smut.  People would be shocked if . . ."

    The Savage interrupted him.  "But isn't it natural to feel there's a God?"

    "You might as well ask if it's natural to do up one's trousers with zippers," said the Controller sarcastically.  "You remind me of another of those old fellows called Bradley.  He defined the philosophy as the finding of bad reason for what one believes by instinct.  As if one believed anything by instinct!  One believes things because one has been conditioned to believe them.  Finding bad reasons for what one believes for other bad reasons--that's philosophy.  People believe in God because they've been conditioned to believe in God."

    "But all the same," insisted the Savage, "it is natural to believe in God when you're alone--quite alone, in the night, thinking about death. . ."

    "But people never are alone now," said Mustapha Mond.  "We make them hate solitude; and we arrange their lives so that it's almost impossible for them to ever have it."

    . . .

    "But value dwells not in particular will," said the Savage.  "It holds his estimate and dignity as well wherein 'tis precious of itself as in the prizer."

    "Come, come," protested Mustapha Mond, "that's going rather far, isn't it?"

    "If you allowed yourselves to think of God, you wouldn't allow yourselves to be degraded by pleasant vices.  You'd have a reason for bearing things patiently, for doing things with courage.  I've seen it with the Indians."

    "I'm sure you have," said Mustapha Mond.  "But then we aren't Indians.  There isn't a need for a civilized man to bear anything that's seriously unpleasant.  And as for doing things--Ford forbid that the should get the idea into his head.  It would upset the whole social order if men started doing things on their own."

    "What about self-denial, then?  If you had a God, you'd have a reason for self-denial."

    "But industrial civilization is only possible when there's no self-denial.  Self-indulgence up to the very limits impose by hygiene and economics.  Otherwise the wheels stop turning."

    "You'd have a reason for chastity!" said the Savage, blushing a little as he spoke the words. 

    "But chastity means passion, chastity means neurasthenia.  And passion and neurasthenia mean instability.  And instability means the end of civilization.  You can't have a lasting civilization without plenty of pleasant vices."

    "But God's the reason for everything noble and fine and heroic.  If you had God. . ."

    "My dear young friend," said Mustpha Mond, "civilization has absolutely no need of nobility or heroism.  These things are symptoms of political inefficiency.  In a properly organized society like ours, nobody has any opportunities for being noble or heroic.  Conditions have got to be thoroughly unstable before the occasion can arise.  Where there are wars, where there are divided allegiances, where there are temptations to be resisted, objects of love to be fought for or defended--there, obviously, nobility and heroism have some sense.  But there aren't any wars nowadays.  The greatest care is taken to prevent you from loving any one too much.  There's no such thing as a divided allegiance; you're so conditioned that you can't help doing what you ought to do.  And what you ought to do is on the whole so pleasant, so many of the natural impulses are allowed free play, that there really aren't any temptations to resist.  And if ever, by some unlucky chance, anything unpleasant should somehow happen, why, there's always soma to give you a holiday from the facts.  And there's always soma to calm your anger, to reconcile you to your enemies, to make you patient and long-suffering.  In the past you could only accomplish these things by making a great effort and after years of hard moral training.  Now, you swallow two or three half-gramme tablets, and there you are.  Anybody can be virtuous now.  You can carry at least half your mortality about in a bottle.  Christianity without tears--that's what soma is."

    . . .

    The Savaged nodded, frowning.  "You got rid of them.  Yes, that's just like you.  Getting rid of everything unpleasant instead of learning to put up with it.  Whether 'tis better in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. . .  But you don't do either.  Neither suffer nor oppose.  You just abolish the slings and arrows.  It's too easy."

    . . .

    "What you need," the Savage went on, "is something with tears for a change.  Nothings costs enough here."

    . . .

    "But I don't want comfort.  I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness.  I want sin."

    "In fact," said Mustapha Mond, "you're claiming the right to be unhappy."

    "All right then," said the Savage defiantly, "I'm claiming the right to be unhappy."

    "Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind."  There was a long silence.

    "I claim them all," said the Savage at last. 

    Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders.  "You're welcome," he said.

    . . .

    "I say," Helmholtz exclaimed solicitously, "you do look ill, John!"

    "Did you eat something that didn't agree with you?" as Bernard.

    The Savage nodded.  "I ate civilization."

    "What?"

    "It poisoned me; I was defiled.  And then," he added, in a lower town, "I ate my own wickedness."



    Ohhhhhhhhhhh, so much to say about the above!  It's so chock-full of social commentary and articulation of much of why I strive to live my life in an imitation (albeit poor) of Christ's sufferings!  The English major in me was and is abuzz after reading the above. 

    However, I have monopolized the one computer in the household too long.  I will have to wait until next time to add my own analysis and commentary to Huxley's genius work!

    Adios, amigos de Xanga! 





Saturday, 21 November 2009

  • Dia 6

    Just watched a good portion of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.  It is definitely not a story for young children...  For one, I was not prepared to see Ron Weasley hooking up w/a girl at the first Quiditch (sp?) match post-party!!!  Grossaroni, man.  Looked more like American Pie than Harry Potter.

    I've been reading through the book of Proverbs since I got to Colombia.  The words really pierced my heart last night, as I have been struggling to be patient on God's timing in certain areas of my life.  Although I know it is better to seek after righteousness and Truth as a believer, it sometimes feels like good guys finish last -- you know?  I am definitely human and, in moments of discouragement or whatnot, there's sometimes a sense of envy at ill-gotten gains -- especially if it doesn't clearly/obviously hurt anyone in the process. 

    However, I was brought to tears (both of dying to self and of hopeful encouragement) as the Scripture reminded me that God knows my heart and He acknowledges my deepest wants.  My efforts to cling to what is good and just are not useless or in vain.  Simultaneously, they are not always immediately rewarded:  it begs the question, do I make choices according to my values and beliefs, or for Pavlovian (sp?) positive reinforcement?

    When I am grateful, it is easy to remember all that I gain when I choose to obey.  It feels like a loss a times when I forget to be thankful for all the Lord has done...  Too often, I get lost in thinking about what I am seemingly losing when I do not get to selfishly pursue my desires. 

    I dunno if this all makes sense, but I pray that these words can bless those who are going through a similar time of waiting...








Thursday, 19 November 2009

  • Dia 5

    Lo siento.  Spanish class is a FAIL at the University de Pedologica (sp?).  I went back for class 2 yesterday and found out that I am the only student who tested for Basic, and they are only moving forward with Intermediate and Advanced.  Well, at least they're giving me a refund...

    FAILLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.

    However, all is not lost:  I will begin taking private lessons M-W-F with a tutor Monday, and will have to study more on my own.  Verbos son muy difficile.  All those conjugations and tenses are a bit stressful, but I am determined to make measurable progress in the remaining 4 weeks!

    God is definitely teaching me -- yet again -- that His plans will supersede whatever plans I may make in my anal, type-A delusion of control.    Seriously, the only thing left to do is let go and enjoy the ride:  the Conductor will be driving this train called JML's life.

    That's all I have bandwidth to write today. 

    Buenas noches!





Wednesday, 18 November 2009

  • Day 4

    Buenos Dias!  It's another beautiful day in Bogota and I am ready for day two of Spanish class.

    Yesterday, I pretty much got my bum handed to me on a platter as it was clear that my language capability was the most limited of everyone in the room.  If my memory serves me correct, there were 2 from the UK, 2 from Brazil, 2 (others) from the US, 1 from South Korea, 1 from Russia, 1 from Canada, and 1 from Turkey.  It's pretty cool that there are people literally from around the world...

    There is something lifegiving and essential about being able to convey one's thoughts in the absence of selfconsciousness and with the confidence of a complete pallet of words to paint one's picture.  I definitely felt a deep sense of embarrassment -- even shame -- at not knowing what was going around me or being able to respond in an intelligible or intelligent manner. 

    As I walked home by myself, a sense of my own world and everything around me was fairly strong:  my only means of communication are fragmented words and few around me can speak English.  Therefore, I felt a strong sense of isolation as there were no words to build bridges of understanding.  It makes me wonder if this is the way my missionary friends feel as they begin in a foreign country where they do not have language fluency and are superficially identifiable as "foreign" or "other."

    On the flip side, I feel more than ever that I have a second family amongst my hosts.  It's been an incredible blessing for me to live with my second "dad" and two younger "brothers."  Don't get me wrong, my biological father is an incredible man who has shaped my very definition of integrity and selflessly serving others.  My Colombian father is just different in the ways he expresses his care...  I can write more about this later.

    For now, I need to get off the computadora and do my quiet time.  In this time and space of slowing down, that is one thing I am grateful for:  the ability to sit with the Word and really come to God with prayers for daily provision, as it is clear I cannot provide for myself here.  Thus, being in "need" is not necessarily a bad thing because it is an explicit reminder of how it is only a false veneer that we are independent from vs. wholly dependent on our Lord.

    Adios!




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GirlyTomboy

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    • Name: GirlyTomboy (JMLee)
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