I have had two weeks of class so far, and I am getting acquainted with Portland State University and the culture of Portland more and more.
In my classes I hear all sorts of interpretations of what "love" and "peace" and "mercy" are from my classmates and professors. Everything seems so relative and aimless and empty without its grounding in Jesus. He is so beautiful and lovely. In the midst of studying peace and reconciliation I am constantly reminded that it is he who provides the ability for love, peace, forgiveness, and mercy. How do we forgive others? How? The act of forgiveness is often painfully difficult. I suppose I am at PSU to hear how people forgive when the do not know Jesus. I don't think that I would forgive anyone if I didn't have a profound example of forgiveness in my life, and even then, I would need th capacity. Jesus provides both for me. The way and the light.
My professor was grasping in the air trying to explain what "mercy" was by definition, and I wanted to whisper "jesus." And my classmates were trying to discuss the meaning of justice, and I so desperetely wanted to say "God!" He is wonderfully just.
I am in a whole new context and culture here in Portland and in my university. It is like nothing I have ever experienced. It is wonderous. It keeps me ever fascinated and contemplating.
It is a culture that finds Christianity abrasive. In many ways, I don't blame them. Some of the people who call themselves Christians seem abrasive to me. Amidst this culture that is a melting pot for spirituality, I am finding ways of being invitational and helpful at helping people to get past their stereotypes, but it is a whole new world here, and I'm taking my time learning what is and is not helpful to say and do right away. The things they want and desire are actually what Jesus offers them, but they do not know that it is offered. And I sit beside them, and pray and talk to Jesus and ask Him to introduce Himself to them.
There is a real hostility toward Christianity here, but people generally appreciate Jesus. They are curious about Him. They want to use His example. I am not spending nearly enough time with Him that I might look like him. Here's a strange thought I have been having: I'm realizing that I perhaps need to spend more time with Jesus than I do with the Church, that I might look more like Him. I need the Church. The Church is my family. However, I have realized that it's fairly easy for me to look like the Church, but not as natural or easy to look like Jesus. I'm a follower or Jesus. I need the Church, but sometimes I get confused about what it means to follow Jesus as I am immersed in it. does that make sense?
...just some thoughts I've been having...
.
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
A beautiful new place. Here I am...here am I....
I moved to Portland ten days ago. It has been a wonderful ten days. I have had many "only in Portland" moments that have delighted me. A few to share would be:
-hiking with my roomate, Jenni, in Forest Park. (a wonderous forest wilderness in downtown Portland!)
-driving over the Willamette River at night with the city twinkling and reflecting off the water
-spending time at Powell's City of Books, losing track of time amidst new and used books and buying bi-lingual Dr. Seuss books
-Pinot Noirs, Tillamook cheese, and marionberries...enough said.
My roomates are amazing. My house is quickly beginning to feel welcoming. I am getting to know the city. I am beginning a few friendships. I am spending time with old family friends. I am listening and seeking carefully in this season. Life is good. Really good.
Amidst all the excitement of getting used to this new "home" I have come to a few sobering realizations. First, I have realized that just because I want to be a person of a certain integrity and character doesn't mean that I actually am or that I will suddenly wake up to be able to make the right choices or set the right boundaries. Just because I want to be on time doesn't mean that I am actually succeeding at doing it. Just because I want to be more guarded in some of my conversations doesn't mean that I know how to do that well. And just because I want to live missionally and love incarnationally doesn't mean that I know how to live that way yet. So I have been failing and rethinking things and forgiving myself a lot. I am realizing how unwise and immature I am. I am realizing that relocation does not mean renovation of the heart. And I am realizing that the only cure for loneliness and wrestlessness is quality time in prayer. and that sometimes the times when we most need to pray are the times that it is the most difficult. I suppose that is why it is called "spiritual DISCIPLINE." I am coming to terms with how undisciplined I am and how in need of some discipline I can be.
All in all, these realizations make me thankful for grace - from God and from others. I am thankful that I believe in redemption, healing, and the start of a new day.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
the image and the visionary
Yesterday I had one of the most intellectually stimulating days I have had in a long time. It was a rich blessing!
I spent the afternoon with my friend, Alina, visiting the Trammell & Margaret Crow Asian Art Collection. To my delight, admission was free and the collection was beautiful. The true reason for our visit, however, was to see their current exhibit. A friend of mine who is a "starving artist" here in Dallas told me that it was "mind blowing!" and that I should make a point to view the exhibit.
He was right. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. The exhibit was by a Korean artist, U-Ram Choe, and it was called "New Media from Seoul." The exhibit was a robotic sculpture collection that depicted fictional creatures that the artist claimed dwell in today's urban cities. His vision was very unique and I found it a little futuristic for my taste, but I really admired his originality and the incredible expertise with which he utilized art, engineering, anthropology, biology, philosophy, and communication. The creatures had a curious and serene nature to them and it was soothing to be in their presence.
We happened upon a lecture led by the museum's director and I was given a quote to think about in the context of the exhibit:
"Art is a technique of communication. The image is the most complete technique of all communication." - Claes Oldenburg
Being in the midst of this artistic fantasy, I began to chew on the role the image plays in communication, especially in art. A lot of art is non-verbal (sculpture, painting...) and a lot of art is strictly verbal (poetry, prose...). Oftentimes I have a vision of something I want to communicate to someone else. I will need them to "get on board" with what I'm invisioning. It usually happens that my wordy explanations of my vision only get us so far. It is when they see it with their own eyes, when they can see, touch, taste, smell, and hear the sounds of the vision that they truly have that "aha!" moment and can say "This is great. Now I know what you were trying to show me!" The director explained that U-Ram Choe's exhibit would have been confusing were the verbal explanations not there. I was thinking of the artist, having a vision, writing about these creatures, and feeling alone in his vision until the image was materially created. Then, once others had the image with its movement and harmony, they would then begin to dip their toe into the pond of his fantasy. The image is the completion of the communication. On its own, it may be lacking. But I have realized lately that a communicator without an image to help the audience can be a lonely visionary.
St. Augustine said, "I can point the finger, but I cannot supply the vision." I often feel like I am pointing my finger for an audience, but I am unable to supply the vision. The audience must catch the vision on their own. And often the person pointing the finger can feel very estranged from the audience because she cannot supply the vision. She can only do so much.
I spent the afternoon with my friend, Alina, visiting the Trammell & Margaret Crow Asian Art Collection. To my delight, admission was free and the collection was beautiful. The true reason for our visit, however, was to see their current exhibit. A friend of mine who is a "starving artist" here in Dallas told me that it was "mind blowing!" and that I should make a point to view the exhibit.
He was right. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. The exhibit was by a Korean artist, U-Ram Choe, and it was called "New Media from Seoul." The exhibit was a robotic sculpture collection that depicted fictional creatures that the artist claimed dwell in today's urban cities. His vision was very unique and I found it a little futuristic for my taste, but I really admired his originality and the incredible expertise with which he utilized art, engineering, anthropology, biology, philosophy, and communication. The creatures had a curious and serene nature to them and it was soothing to be in their presence.
We happened upon a lecture led by the museum's director and I was given a quote to think about in the context of the exhibit:
"Art is a technique of communication. The image is the most complete technique of all communication." - Claes Oldenburg
Being in the midst of this artistic fantasy, I began to chew on the role the image plays in communication, especially in art. A lot of art is non-verbal (sculpture, painting...) and a lot of art is strictly verbal (poetry, prose...). Oftentimes I have a vision of something I want to communicate to someone else. I will need them to "get on board" with what I'm invisioning. It usually happens that my wordy explanations of my vision only get us so far. It is when they see it with their own eyes, when they can see, touch, taste, smell, and hear the sounds of the vision that they truly have that "aha!" moment and can say "This is great. Now I know what you were trying to show me!" The director explained that U-Ram Choe's exhibit would have been confusing were the verbal explanations not there. I was thinking of the artist, having a vision, writing about these creatures, and feeling alone in his vision until the image was materially created. Then, once others had the image with its movement and harmony, they would then begin to dip their toe into the pond of his fantasy. The image is the completion of the communication. On its own, it may be lacking. But I have realized lately that a communicator without an image to help the audience can be a lonely visionary.
St. Augustine said, "I can point the finger, but I cannot supply the vision." I often feel like I am pointing my finger for an audience, but I am unable to supply the vision. The audience must catch the vision on their own. And often the person pointing the finger can feel very estranged from the audience because she cannot supply the vision. She can only do so much.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Monday, November 13, 2006
do this in memory of me.
About a week ago I was traveling and I visited a church with a friend. It was communion sunday, and after the band led the congregation in a few songs, a man came up on the "stage" and said a few words about what communion meant to him. He used the analogy of a Thanksgiving dinner where family all come and gather around the table because they love each other and they are celebrating. I thought that this analogy was a great image to paint especially considering the season and the general feelings of unity and community that the image of Thanksgiving dinner brings to mind for most Americans. After this really nice explanation, he let the congregation know that communion was to be received at the various stations around the church.
The band continued to play as people got up one-by-one to walk to the back of the church. I didn't even notice that it was time to receive communion until my friend got up. I followed her and got in line. Something just didn't seem right though. In fact, many things didn't seems right. I watched as people came away from the table. They were carrying what looked like little shot glasses of grape juice and pellets of bread. I've gone to church most of my life, but I had new eyes to see this particular Sunday that the celebration of communion in today's churches is lacking. How could is the Church of today reflecting the community of faith I read about in the Bible?
The first celebration of communion was Jesus' breaking of bread and sharing wine with his disciples on the night that he was betrayed. When I read the passage of the Bible in the book of Luke where Jesus and the disciples celebrate the Passover meal, it seems to me shockingly different than the way we today, as the Church, celebrate communion. We have reduced it to an impersonal, sterile, individualized ritual that poorly reflects the meal it is designed to remind us of. Jesus washed the disciples feet (humbled himself before them and invited them into a deeper friendship with him). Jesus assured Peter, "Unless I wash you, Peter, you can have no part in me." The meal that they shared served as a symbol and a milestone for what was to come. The celebration at the Last Supper vividly showed the humble servant that Jesus was - so much so that it made Peter uncomfortable. It was an interpersonal celebration. It was a communal celebration.
Halfway down the isle, I turned and walked back to my seat. I just couldn't do it. Tears flooding out of my eyes, I sat back down and prayed. For that church. For the Church. In repentance for how I have allowed myself to celebrate communion while not knowing my brothers and sisters around me. How communion for me has become more about me and Jesus and less about washing the feet of those around me. I repent of how I so easily forget the humble, interpersonal savior that I share with the Church around me and how I often don't make room in my life to celebrate with them what he has done for us.
The band continued to play as people got up one-by-one to walk to the back of the church. I didn't even notice that it was time to receive communion until my friend got up. I followed her and got in line. Something just didn't seem right though. In fact, many things didn't seems right. I watched as people came away from the table. They were carrying what looked like little shot glasses of grape juice and pellets of bread. I've gone to church most of my life, but I had new eyes to see this particular Sunday that the celebration of communion in today's churches is lacking. How could is the Church of today reflecting the community of faith I read about in the Bible?
The first celebration of communion was Jesus' breaking of bread and sharing wine with his disciples on the night that he was betrayed. When I read the passage of the Bible in the book of Luke where Jesus and the disciples celebrate the Passover meal, it seems to me shockingly different than the way we today, as the Church, celebrate communion. We have reduced it to an impersonal, sterile, individualized ritual that poorly reflects the meal it is designed to remind us of. Jesus washed the disciples feet (humbled himself before them and invited them into a deeper friendship with him). Jesus assured Peter, "Unless I wash you, Peter, you can have no part in me." The meal that they shared served as a symbol and a milestone for what was to come. The celebration at the Last Supper vividly showed the humble servant that Jesus was - so much so that it made Peter uncomfortable. It was an interpersonal celebration. It was a communal celebration.
Halfway down the isle, I turned and walked back to my seat. I just couldn't do it. Tears flooding out of my eyes, I sat back down and prayed. For that church. For the Church. In repentance for how I have allowed myself to celebrate communion while not knowing my brothers and sisters around me. How communion for me has become more about me and Jesus and less about washing the feet of those around me. I repent of how I so easily forget the humble, interpersonal savior that I share with the Church around me and how I often don't make room in my life to celebrate with them what he has done for us.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
