Little Reassurances

So, I'm an admitted anal-retentive worry wort. I have to plan for every conceivable aberration to make sure there is an escape, or a Plan B, or even Plan X. They should, and probably do, have a twelve step program for people like me.

I've never been terribly emotional, at least on the surface. I have bouts of emotionality, but I typically, in Vulcan-like manner, try to make rationality rise to the top. I often worry that I do not display enough emotion for people to understand that I really appreciate them, for instance: Should I have jumped up and down and cried in excitement when my boyfriend presented his Valentine's Day present of tickets to see Craig Ferguson to me? I expressed sincere thanks and uttered statements about it being a cool gift (and really, as I reflect on it, I get more excited). Second to the bottom line: I don't tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and I approach faith in the same rational manner.

You'll notice that the title for today's lovely blog is "little" reassurances. What is about to come is not something big. I had to find a way to fund a particular something with no money in sight. My bonus still has not come (and yes, I am blessed to even say that I hope that it eventually does, thank you unions *grumble, grumble*) and my only way to fund it in the near future was using the big bad credit card. Now, I am extremely pissed at the big bad credit card company for treating a reliable customer like crap and making her do busy work when they are being underhanded...to the point where I feel mistreated and unjustly acted upon. Drah-matic much? 

I finally started to look at the situation in, I think, a more Biblical way. You see, in a way, I am subject to this company as if it were a higher power. (I'd quote Romans 13 but it seems a little out of context.) I am not saying that everyone should run up debt and be subject to usury because clearly that is not the best situation, but it is a situation in which I find myself now. We are subject to powers over us, but God is faithful right? I decided in my heart that I would use my big bad credit card for the needed item this one time, trusting that I will eventually get everything paid off. Bottom line: I decided to stop worrying about it, do what I could with the means God had given me now. And guess what?

Tax return filed-Refund in about 10 days-Problem solved

Little reassurances to faltering faith

Inertia part deux

A while ago, I wrote about humanity's tendency toward apathy. We tend to get in our groove (otherwise known as a rut) and let our guard down. However, to echo Ecclesiastes, there is a time and place for resting and acting. There is a point, especially for control freaks like me, at which we do not have the answers or a clear path forward. How do we simultaneously avoid resting on our laurels while resting in the tension? I love that phrase, resting in the tension. It reflects the feeling we finite, unknowing beings have at being unwillingly ignorant and attempting to come to terms with ideas we just do not understand. It brings to mind images of treading water in a stormy sea, which I suppose serves to work our "faith muscle." I'm getting better at it lately, but I have to make sure it doesn't transition into apathy. We still need to care about the answer even as we accept that we may not get it.

What, Me Worry?

I've had a few things happen recently that in times past may have sent this anal-retentive planner into a tizzy. I have realized that credit cards are the devil, and that despite the fact that they accepted tax-payer bailout money they have no problem screwing over good customers. Due to funding issues (based on the type of course I need to take), I am probably not going to be able to take required credits this semester...for the first time in a few years. Because of the cold (and my own laziness) I haven't been running at near the level I used to do.

Each of these things is an aggravating wrench in the cog of my plans. Yet, despite some immediate feelings of consternation, I pretty much am not worrying about any of it. I realize that is not the end of the world (cliches, I know), and that just because it isn't happening the way I want doesn't mean it won't eventually happen.

So I wrestle with credit card customer service lines and decide to be frugal and not use them again. I realize that just because I may not be able to get credit for working on my thesis now, I can still work on it for when I can get credit. And I have decided that I may just let those winter pounds creep on for a bit until it warms up and I start to lose them again. Hey, I need the insulation, right?

I am surrounded by wonderful people everywhere. Though the occasional belligerent person breaks through the defenses, I know that they are few and far between. I have a pot of chili cooking and How I Met Your Mother and The Big Bang Theory to watch tonight.

So, what, me worry?

A Martyr for Vindication

"St. Augustine prayed-'O Lord, deliver me from this lust of always vindicating myself.' That temper of mind destroys the soul's faith in God. 'I must explain myself; I must get people to understand.' Our Lord never explained anything; He left mistakes to correct themselves."[1]

The more I interact with other people, the more I realize what a bad person I am. Do I look like a bad person? Probably not. Do I feel like a bad person? Very often.

Now let's break this down. It seems that what I find at the core of myself is the need to make sure other people know that I care about them. I don't want for a second for them to think that I have placed something else above them in their time of need, whether large or small. So then, even if my actions reflect a mostly caring heart, my heart speaks out against me to me and no one else. When you come down to it, there is a selfish motive directing the whole endeavor. I feel guilty enough (to be a catholic sometimes) or I think they might need me or I feel bound by duty. 

When did I get away from truly doings things out of love? Now I feel the urge to clean this up for anyone who might now be analyzing what I have done for them and why. And guess what? I want to clean it up again so that no one thinks I am a bad person. The cycle seems to continue ad infinitum. 

Perhaps I am making this too black and white and painting myself as one-dimensional. People's motivations are much more complicated than that. And perhaps it all evens out, and I am too busy focusing on my martyrdom for anyone to notice.

[1] Chambers, Oswald. My Utmost for His Highest. November 23rd.

Exhortations appeal to Emotions to Encourage us

I've been realizing a lot lately (through personal experience rather than book larnin') how profoundly my theology can affect even the "mundane" aspects of my faith.

Now despite the fact that it seems contradictory, I have come to this personal, empirical realization at one of my recurring moments of faltering faith. I am willing to argue from within the confines of a possible schema, but don't feel fully comfortable arguing as if it were a faith inspired fact. I felt this sidebar was necessary in case any of my sentence constructions seem a bit...uh...wonky.

In any case, I think it is really easy to slip into a human centered view of theology instead of a God or Christo-centric view of theology. (The irony of my writing a blog, which will in some ways draw attention to myself, on this subject is not lost on me.) The accusation that we are worshipping self more than God sounds like damnable idolatry, which no God-fearing Christian would dare attempt. But that self-centeredness is an insidious little bugger. It crops up when we think we are doing the good things God intends us to do.

I've been reading Oswald Chambers's My Utmost for His Highest and the entry for October 26th taken from John 20: 21 really struck me. "As my Father hath sent me, even so send I you." The context of this verse is the resurrected Christ appearing to his disciples, and Chambers takes this opportunity to discuss what it means to be a missionary. Even more so, he discusses what is our motivation to be missionaries.

Generally when we hear calls to be missionaries, we hear it pitched in terms of the lost who need to be saved. Exhortations appeal to our emotions to encourage us to go. We see the need of the people above all else. What Chambers focuses on, however, is God's command rather than the external need.

That sort of focus reorients me. Yes, I care about people because God does, but do I set them up above him? What I mean to say is, If God chooses to take a particular action and I am not happy about the outcome to a person or persons, have I then put people before God? It's a tricky balance.

Further, why should we need additional justification other than the fact that God commands it? By emphasizing the needs of the people, do we elevate them over God? Or is this some badly developed argument based on arbitrary semantics? And does it make it easier to focus on the the steps that God has issued like a military CO, rather than to think about "collateral damage?

Of Stewardship and Begging

Awhile ago, I was talking to a woman at work about a sermon series her pastor was doing about stewardship. In the midst of railing against "tree-hugging liberals" in certain *ahem* circles, man's dominion over the earth is stressed, but the responsibility to be a good steward is left by the wayside.

Of course this is not only applicable to things of an environmental nature (do not pardon the pun). There are many things with which God blesses us and of which we ought to make good use. The parable of the talents comes to mind, and of course there are some interpretations where the English pun comes in handy (Matthew 25:14-28). The servants who invested the funds of the master were rewarded, while the servant who hid his talent was not.

Do we use the money over which we are given stewardship appropriately or do we waste it? In like manner, do we use the skills we have been given to further God's kingdom or do we use them to our benefit or let them atrophy? I dare say there are many things God has given me and let me do with them what I think I please. I am certain that I do not use all my abilities to the best of my ability, and yet he still gave them to me. I imagine that he is not always happy with what I do with them, but he has not taken them away.

Next comes the twist. How many times have we, that is to say I, seen someone begging for money on the side of the road and been hesitant to give him or her cash because of what it might be used for? What if they use it for beer? What if they use it for drugs? This could go on and on to the extremes of "what if they use it for junk food. That is certainly not the best use of my money."

Granted, God is God, and omniscience is an applicable trait to reference now. He knows what we will do with what we are given before he gives it to us. And maybe we should not always give money to anyone who asks for it. Maybe we should help in other ways.

But what I am convicted about is my inclination to judge someone over their use of my resources when I should probably be judged over my use of God's resources.

What's a girl to do?

I Corinthians 11...

Are you familiar with it? If you are a woman who has read much of the New Testament, you likely are. In fact, it may cause you some aggravation. Verses 1-16 discuss "Propriety in Worship" as the NIV heading renders it. Paul begins by praising the Corinthians for holding on to the teachings that he has passed to them, but then he begins to discuss another matter.

Now, I have a bit of a feminist streak running through me, and a lot of that is probably due to the way I grew up. In my household, the mother was by default the spiritual leader because the father was neither a Christian nor a good example of a husband and father. Because of this, any distinctions of leadership based solely on sex or gender grate me. "What? Even if I am right and possibly more spiritual, because I am a woman I have to submit to what a man says instead? Look at Sarah who went along with some of Abraham's outrageous lies. Was she correct in going along with a claim of being his sister, even though that got them in scrapes and displayed Abraham's lack of faith?"

That's likely a discussion for another time. However, I did catch something as I was reading today that made me feel a bit better. I've been trying to combine two things lately: Bible study and practicing Spanish. I like to think that focusing on the interpretation from Spanish helps me to really think about what is being said, and I think that's why I noticed this little nuance.

In any case, Paul compares a few levels of submission in verse three. I'll spare you the Spanish and quote the NIV in English:

"Now I want you to realize that the head of every man is Christ, and that the head of the woman is man, and the head of Christ is God."

See, I don't like this head of the woman business, but that could be because I am too prideful. I'm still working that one out. But what intrigues me is that the head of Christ is God, because Christ is God. Now I am not going to say necessarily that woman=man. However, we do know that God the Father begot God the Son, that is Christ. C. S. Lewis discusses this at length and impresses on his readers that one can only beget the same types as oneself. Had the Father created the Son, the Son would have been a different substance. Since he was begotten, however, he is the same substance.

Woman was indeed begotten of man. We learn this in the Garden of Eden, as Eve was "begotten" by Adam from his own side. I place begotten in quotations here only since God actually initiated it. So woman is the same substance of man, much as Christ is the same substance of God. But really what I see is that Christ can be under the headship of God, so maybe I can be under the headship of man. That still does not come out easily. In fact I was wincing as I typed it.

I really have no conclusion, other than to say that this idea is a struggle for me, and that is without touching the idea of shorn hair and head coverings that follows in the next verses!