I wholeheartedly believe that the silencing of religion, sometimes self-inflicted, is a major cause of atheism.
I had a brief discussion with someone recently who was kind enough to give me a ride (I had bruised my knee). When I heard what was on her radio (Christian music), I discovered that she was a Christian. I had no idea up to that point, and this was a person I spent some time with every week. I broached the subject a little bit but had to go...the ride was over.
We had time enough to talk about how the kind girl "had the sense" that a lot of people who work on this student newspaper were Christian. Obviously if she has the sense that this is true, they must be living Christian lives at least a little, but not talking about it? What for?
I thought about what might be the reason for this. I feel like people don't want to talk about their faiths. Maybe they are afraid that they might offend the other person for "evangelizing." Perhaps they believe it makes people uncomfortable...or maybe it makes them uncomfortable. Or maybe they are just not that strong in their faith to actually want to talk about it.
I think if you love Jesus, truly love Jesus, your love will be loud. You will talk about Him and everything related often. You won't be able to help yourself. And if you live a Christian life, and know the joy of a Christian life, you will want to share it, because you love other people enough to want them to have it too.
Whatever the reason, I think many atheists don't believe at least partly (whether or not they will admit to it) because religion is dead as a subject. I'm sure if some people were exposed to more public religious conversation (notice I said conversation, not debate) they would more carefully consider it. But people who really know and love the Lord remain silent in public because that is what is politically correct. Or perhaps they don't want to be the "Jesus freak." It's easier to say "I'm an atheist" than "I'm a Christian." So the crowd will follow...
Whatever the case, there needs to be more God talk...outside of Church. Outside of bible study. Live your love authentically, or people will think it doesn't exist...just like I didn't think it existed in that nice girl who gave me a ride.
There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream for a love that is LOUD.
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
I am weary.
"The stars are faint; and I am weary as I have seldom been before, weary as no Ranger should be with a clear trail to follow. There is some will that lends speed to our foes and sets an unseen barrier before us: a weariness that is in the heart more than in the limb."
Tolkien has words for every emotion that I feel. The above quote is from the Lord of the Rings, and spoken by the future King Aragorn as he is hunting for his captured friends, running hundreds of miles in only three days.
I, too, have a weariness more of the heart than the limb. I don't realize it sometimes how ill-fitted I am in this day and age. I've talked about this before, I know. Every time I talk about it I get all the same responses that reveal to me how little people actually understand what I mean. Spare me the "of courses" and listen.
I think I would fit in perfectly about 800 years ago. Right in the High Middle Ages, a time of chivalry, romance, and Christianity. I see myself as a shepherd, sitting under a tree, watching the sheep eat and clouds pass by. Sure it wasn't all that great of a time. People died young. But I'm not afraid of death. Life was uncomfortable...but comfort isn't everything.
I can tell you what I don't like. Technology. I love it but I hate it. I hate it because I love it. I know I don't need it but I use it, and I know life would be much better if we had less of it. I am forced to use it because everyone else does.
I don't like our culture. I don't like what it promotes. I don't like the debates, the politics, the rules and regulations. I don't like school. I don't like money. I don't like order, discipline, walls, buildings, administrations...none of that. I don't like it at all. I'm tired of it.
I am a thinker, a philosopher, a theologian, a lover of God, his church, and his creation. I am a writer, a poet. I aim to live forever in God's heart. That is all that I love and all that I am and all I ever hope to be. And many of the things listed above work against that. I'm tired of it.
800 years ago, people died younger...but they lived longer. Think of how much time we have spent in our lives on technology, studies, devices, etc. How much time we spend, sometimes are forced to spend, keeping up with the hustle and bustle of this life.
I am so busy all of the time. I am busy doing good things. But I'm not built for this. I'm not built for this and no one understands it. There is someone right now reading this, saying they know how I feel and they do not, so spare me it. I realize I sound angry and I'm sorry.
I am not built for it in a way that makes me a bad person when it stretches me thin. I get so cranky that I will get angry at a person for apologizing to me. I get so flustered that I can't even think of what I'd like to do with my girlfriend on the weekend and I end up upsetting her and myself because I can't talk straight and just look frustrated. I'm not built for this so badly that the only way that I can explain to her how sorry I am that I'm too busy to think straight and don't mean any offense and wish I could do better is by writing it out somewhere she can see it: this blog post. I am a caveman forced to play the rocketman's game.
I don't fit.
There was a dream that I dreamed, such a dream that doesn't fit in this world.
Tolkien has words for every emotion that I feel. The above quote is from the Lord of the Rings, and spoken by the future King Aragorn as he is hunting for his captured friends, running hundreds of miles in only three days.
I, too, have a weariness more of the heart than the limb. I don't realize it sometimes how ill-fitted I am in this day and age. I've talked about this before, I know. Every time I talk about it I get all the same responses that reveal to me how little people actually understand what I mean. Spare me the "of courses" and listen.
I think I would fit in perfectly about 800 years ago. Right in the High Middle Ages, a time of chivalry, romance, and Christianity. I see myself as a shepherd, sitting under a tree, watching the sheep eat and clouds pass by. Sure it wasn't all that great of a time. People died young. But I'm not afraid of death. Life was uncomfortable...but comfort isn't everything.
I can tell you what I don't like. Technology. I love it but I hate it. I hate it because I love it. I know I don't need it but I use it, and I know life would be much better if we had less of it. I am forced to use it because everyone else does.
I don't like our culture. I don't like what it promotes. I don't like the debates, the politics, the rules and regulations. I don't like school. I don't like money. I don't like order, discipline, walls, buildings, administrations...none of that. I don't like it at all. I'm tired of it.
I am a thinker, a philosopher, a theologian, a lover of God, his church, and his creation. I am a writer, a poet. I aim to live forever in God's heart. That is all that I love and all that I am and all I ever hope to be. And many of the things listed above work against that. I'm tired of it.
800 years ago, people died younger...but they lived longer. Think of how much time we have spent in our lives on technology, studies, devices, etc. How much time we spend, sometimes are forced to spend, keeping up with the hustle and bustle of this life.
I am so busy all of the time. I am busy doing good things. But I'm not built for this. I'm not built for this and no one understands it. There is someone right now reading this, saying they know how I feel and they do not, so spare me it. I realize I sound angry and I'm sorry.
I am not built for it in a way that makes me a bad person when it stretches me thin. I get so cranky that I will get angry at a person for apologizing to me. I get so flustered that I can't even think of what I'd like to do with my girlfriend on the weekend and I end up upsetting her and myself because I can't talk straight and just look frustrated. I'm not built for this so badly that the only way that I can explain to her how sorry I am that I'm too busy to think straight and don't mean any offense and wish I could do better is by writing it out somewhere she can see it: this blog post. I am a caveman forced to play the rocketman's game.
I don't fit.
There was a dream that I dreamed, such a dream that doesn't fit in this world.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Seeing the world with new eyes.
I see the world entirely different than I did not long ago.
The other day I went to my first Protestant service. There was lots of singing, praying, and talking. It was a great new experience. However, there was much missing. Much, much missing.
I know that there is at least one Protestant who reads my blog, and I would encourage that person (and people from other Christian traditions) to understand why I am writing the way I am, and that it is not out of arrogance nor malice. Protestant and non-denominational churches, as I understand them, empower the individual to interpret scripture as they understand it, with a limited guidance on their interpretation from their church and/or pastor. One can essentially believe whatever they want, with some exceptions.
However, in the Roman Catholic church we believe that truth exists, and we have found it. Protestant churches view other denominations or beliefs as those who have looked over the evidence in the Bible and come to a different conclusion; the Catholic church is drawing its conclusions not only from the Bible but from tradition passed down from the apostles. How can we defend sola scriptura by saying that God trusted us with interpretation of scripture when we still come to different conclusions? Why would Jesus ascend into heaven, telling His disciples "Just figure it all out for yourselves." Why would He leave us behind with even the remotest possibility that we would disagree on exactly what was going on in the Gospels and the rest of the Bible? He is God, after all. Doesn't that seem like a mistake, that so many Christians could be left simply disagreeing on what it all means? God doesn't make mistakes. God would want us to agree on what He was trying to achieve by dying on a cross.
That being said, I hope anyone who objects to this post can understand my reasoning on why I feel obligated to speak the way I am. It is not out of arrogance, but out of a clinging to what I know is true. I don't see it as an opinion but as something valuable to know! :)
What I found to be missing in the service was the focus on Jesus at mass. His presence in the Eucharist, our praise of Him, our focus on foreshadowing our lives in heaven. I was sad that the people at the service I went to earlier that day were missing out on so much. I knew that they were there because they were seeking God and loving God, but they have probably never known what it is like to fully participate in the mass as even many Catholics do not! I was so upset at this thought that I burst into tears talking about it with my soon-to-be-Catholic girlfriend. I was imagining what it might be like to have everyone I know, and the whole rest of the world as well, truly taking part in the sacrifice of the Mass, as Jesus spoke of when He told us "do this in memory of me." I imagined what it might be like for everyone to take part in what St. Paul described in 1 Corinthians 10:16-17 when he said, "The bread which we break, is it not a sharing in the Body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread." The one bread! The one Christ! Not the many symbolic breads!
I imagined what it might be like. Then I realized that it wasn't so...and it broke me. I was so hurt, reader. So, so hurt. I couldn't even understand why, thinking about the experience later. I always knew not everyone was Catholic, and that not every Catholic really lived out their faith nor appreciated it. And then I understood something new about myself that crept up so quietly, that I was shocked.
I don't see the world in the same way anymore. When I first thought of my blog as one giant text, "The Dream That I Dreamed", I imagined it as a sort of melancholy tale of how my life is lived only to try and fulfill a high and lofty dream that may never be achieved. I viewed it as a determination to keep alive a view of all that my life and the world could be if only things were different, somehow. A full outline of what I'm saying can be read here in my first blog post.
These days, my blog is more about Christ's vision in my life, and the beauty that He has created if only we could see it. It should be more like "The Dream That He Dreamed" rather than "The Dream That I Dreamed." But I won't change it now, if only because I like the consistency.
If you need an example of what I mean, I'll tell you a story. Today I was praying the rosary with my girlfriend when I noticed outside that it was a beautiful day. Partly cloudy, and enough wind that the clouds would block the sun for a minute and then move away to let the sun shine again. I thought that it looked like it was glowing outside, and then I realized "maybe God made it that way just so it would look pretty on days like today" and I started crying because I felt so loved. Then I thought about how much I love everyone I know, and how happy I am, and how it can only be unimaginably better in heaven, and I started crying more! It was such a great moment...and then I went to mass! ALLELUIA! I shared in the infinite mercy of mass with a bunch of my fellow Catholics and friends, and it was so beautiful. What a wonderful thing, and it was all a gift from God!
And all this...I never understood. I thought I did, but I did NOT...and I'm not even sure when it all changed. I'm so happy. I used to think that it was impossible to cry tears of joy. I thought it was a myth...now I do it all the time.
There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was His dream.
The other day I went to my first Protestant service. There was lots of singing, praying, and talking. It was a great new experience. However, there was much missing. Much, much missing.
I know that there is at least one Protestant who reads my blog, and I would encourage that person (and people from other Christian traditions) to understand why I am writing the way I am, and that it is not out of arrogance nor malice. Protestant and non-denominational churches, as I understand them, empower the individual to interpret scripture as they understand it, with a limited guidance on their interpretation from their church and/or pastor. One can essentially believe whatever they want, with some exceptions.
However, in the Roman Catholic church we believe that truth exists, and we have found it. Protestant churches view other denominations or beliefs as those who have looked over the evidence in the Bible and come to a different conclusion; the Catholic church is drawing its conclusions not only from the Bible but from tradition passed down from the apostles. How can we defend sola scriptura by saying that God trusted us with interpretation of scripture when we still come to different conclusions? Why would Jesus ascend into heaven, telling His disciples "Just figure it all out for yourselves." Why would He leave us behind with even the remotest possibility that we would disagree on exactly what was going on in the Gospels and the rest of the Bible? He is God, after all. Doesn't that seem like a mistake, that so many Christians could be left simply disagreeing on what it all means? God doesn't make mistakes. God would want us to agree on what He was trying to achieve by dying on a cross.
That being said, I hope anyone who objects to this post can understand my reasoning on why I feel obligated to speak the way I am. It is not out of arrogance, but out of a clinging to what I know is true. I don't see it as an opinion but as something valuable to know! :)
What I found to be missing in the service was the focus on Jesus at mass. His presence in the Eucharist, our praise of Him, our focus on foreshadowing our lives in heaven. I was sad that the people at the service I went to earlier that day were missing out on so much. I knew that they were there because they were seeking God and loving God, but they have probably never known what it is like to fully participate in the mass as even many Catholics do not! I was so upset at this thought that I burst into tears talking about it with my soon-to-be-Catholic girlfriend. I was imagining what it might be like to have everyone I know, and the whole rest of the world as well, truly taking part in the sacrifice of the Mass, as Jesus spoke of when He told us "do this in memory of me." I imagined what it might be like for everyone to take part in what St. Paul described in 1 Corinthians 10:16-17 when he said, "The bread which we break, is it not a sharing in the Body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread." The one bread! The one Christ! Not the many symbolic breads!
I imagined what it might be like. Then I realized that it wasn't so...and it broke me. I was so hurt, reader. So, so hurt. I couldn't even understand why, thinking about the experience later. I always knew not everyone was Catholic, and that not every Catholic really lived out their faith nor appreciated it. And then I understood something new about myself that crept up so quietly, that I was shocked.
I don't see the world in the same way anymore. When I first thought of my blog as one giant text, "The Dream That I Dreamed", I imagined it as a sort of melancholy tale of how my life is lived only to try and fulfill a high and lofty dream that may never be achieved. I viewed it as a determination to keep alive a view of all that my life and the world could be if only things were different, somehow. A full outline of what I'm saying can be read here in my first blog post.
These days, my blog is more about Christ's vision in my life, and the beauty that He has created if only we could see it. It should be more like "The Dream That He Dreamed" rather than "The Dream That I Dreamed." But I won't change it now, if only because I like the consistency.
If you need an example of what I mean, I'll tell you a story. Today I was praying the rosary with my girlfriend when I noticed outside that it was a beautiful day. Partly cloudy, and enough wind that the clouds would block the sun for a minute and then move away to let the sun shine again. I thought that it looked like it was glowing outside, and then I realized "maybe God made it that way just so it would look pretty on days like today" and I started crying because I felt so loved. Then I thought about how much I love everyone I know, and how happy I am, and how it can only be unimaginably better in heaven, and I started crying more! It was such a great moment...and then I went to mass! ALLELUIA! I shared in the infinite mercy of mass with a bunch of my fellow Catholics and friends, and it was so beautiful. What a wonderful thing, and it was all a gift from God!
And all this...I never understood. I thought I did, but I did NOT...and I'm not even sure when it all changed. I'm so happy. I used to think that it was impossible to cry tears of joy. I thought it was a myth...now I do it all the time.
There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was His dream.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Bipolar? And other questions...
So, I think I'm bipolar.
I have proof. How many people do you know go from in tears all day one day and the next, feel completely fine? Every time I go through these phases of depression and happiness I notice something: I can't understand why I was in the other state.
When I'm depressed, I am completely convince that I have no reason to be happy. My mind is completely focused on misery, and I can't feel happy. When people are nice to me, I don't know how to respond. I can't motivate myself to do anything. I am convinced I'm worthless.
When I'm happy, like I am now, I can't understand why I was ever down. The problems I was upset about seem distant...like a dream, or like it was long ago, or happening to someone else. I love everyone. I find joy in the tiniest of things...I have a good self-esteem, I feel invincible.
It's like I'm two separate people. I don't get it.
I also think I might be done discerning the priesthood. I'm not 100% sure yet, but for a while I've been rolling the question around in my head...since last summer, actually. What is God calling me to? Marriage or Priesthood? Or something else? Well, the original reason for discerning wasn't a really good one, in my opinion. The sheer multitude of rejections by women I liked made me feel like it could be a clear message that I'm not supposed to be married - since there are really no coincidences.
Now I feel different. I have felt for a long time a great desire to give of myself to a woman, for life. That's not really a priest thing...and it's not going away, even in the face of prayers about being a priest and the continued "bad luck" with women. I think the whole women issue might be a nice post for another time, though.
The other question I'm faced with (throughout the day, in prayer, etc.) is what I'm doing after I graduate from college. I'm an English major with a Journalism minor. There is a possibility I can get a job, but I feel called to stay where I am. Work for my church as a minister. Since I wasted so much of my college life on stupid things, I feel like it would be poetic justice for me to stay here for the same amount of time I wasted: doing it right this time. But that's also a long story for another entry.
There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that there could be balance and certainty.
I have proof. How many people do you know go from in tears all day one day and the next, feel completely fine? Every time I go through these phases of depression and happiness I notice something: I can't understand why I was in the other state.
When I'm depressed, I am completely convince that I have no reason to be happy. My mind is completely focused on misery, and I can't feel happy. When people are nice to me, I don't know how to respond. I can't motivate myself to do anything. I am convinced I'm worthless.
When I'm happy, like I am now, I can't understand why I was ever down. The problems I was upset about seem distant...like a dream, or like it was long ago, or happening to someone else. I love everyone. I find joy in the tiniest of things...I have a good self-esteem, I feel invincible.
It's like I'm two separate people. I don't get it.
I also think I might be done discerning the priesthood. I'm not 100% sure yet, but for a while I've been rolling the question around in my head...since last summer, actually. What is God calling me to? Marriage or Priesthood? Or something else? Well, the original reason for discerning wasn't a really good one, in my opinion. The sheer multitude of rejections by women I liked made me feel like it could be a clear message that I'm not supposed to be married - since there are really no coincidences.
Now I feel different. I have felt for a long time a great desire to give of myself to a woman, for life. That's not really a priest thing...and it's not going away, even in the face of prayers about being a priest and the continued "bad luck" with women. I think the whole women issue might be a nice post for another time, though.
The other question I'm faced with (throughout the day, in prayer, etc.) is what I'm doing after I graduate from college. I'm an English major with a Journalism minor. There is a possibility I can get a job, but I feel called to stay where I am. Work for my church as a minister. Since I wasted so much of my college life on stupid things, I feel like it would be poetic justice for me to stay here for the same amount of time I wasted: doing it right this time. But that's also a long story for another entry.
There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that there could be balance and certainty.
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