Monday, January 04, 2010
Deep Joy ...Deep Hunger
The place where God calls us is the place where our deep joy and the world's deep hunger meet." ~Frederick Buchner
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Exiled Kings
I'm not sure if its Eldredge or Pascal that I resonate with more. Either way, these few paragraphs stir up deep sorrow, joy, anger and fear for me, all at once..
From Journey of Desire, pp 12-13
"We use a phrase to try to console ourselves after what we think is an irrecoverable loss: “All good things come to an end.” I hate that phrase. It’s a lie. Even our troubles and our heartbreaks tell us something about our true destiny. The tragedies that strike us to the core and elicit the cry, “This isn’t the way it was supposed to be!” are also telling the truth—it isn’t the way it was supposed to be.
Pascal writes,
"Man is so great that his greatness appears even in knowing himself to be miserable. A tree has no sense of its misery. It is true that to know we are miserable is to be miserable; but to know we are miserable is also to be great. Thus all the miseries of man prove his grandeur; they are the miseries of a dignified personage, the miseries of a dethroned monarch . . . What can this incessant craving, and this impotence of attainment mean, unless there was once a happiness belonging to man, of which only the faintest traces remain, in that void which he attempts to fill with everything within his reach? (Pensées)
Should the king in exile pretend he is happy there? Should he not seek his own country? His miseries are his ally; they urge him on. And so let them grow, if need be. But do not forsake the secret of life; do not despise those kingly desires.
We abandon the most important journey of our lives when we abandon desire. We leave our hearts by the side of the road and head off in the direction of fitting in, getting by, being productive, what have you. Whatever we might gain— money, position, the approval of others, or just absence of the discontent itself—it’s not worth it."
Something happens inside me every time I reread this passage. Each of the 1000 times I have run across it or many other passages like it, I feel this tension of knowing I am meant to be so much more than what I allow myself to be. I want so badly to know and experience the life God has designed and made ready for Bryan Burwick, if only he would make the final leap and turn back. Within that same core space of my body I painfully remember all the countless times I've looked over the edge and told myself, "If you jump, you or someone you love won't make it to the other side alive."
So...
"What's at Risk for me if I were to jump.... I could lose my life... And what's at risk if I don't jump... I may never live..." So am I willing to take the risk of losing my life to find it?
Once, back in 2003, I decided the risk was worth it, no matter what. For a while, the free fall felt fantastic. But within a couple years, when things got tough and started to look scary in 2005 I pulled back before it was too, too late. I pulled the chute and chonosing to land somewhere in Exile of the life that could be.
Up to this point I haven't been willing to take that risk again. I've looked over the edge numerous times, trying to summon up the courage to jump once more. But I tell myself it's so much easier and safer to live in exile. I so want to jump ... and yet I am so afraid. I fear jumping at the wrong time for the wrong thing and in so doing losing everything I've gained ... safety.
For a while we felt like we had to fight and claw our way to saftey and survival. We had to fight to get to the point where there was no fear of paying the bills, going hungry or getting kicked out on the street.
But as I sat near the pool, the evening of July 4th, enjoying the cool evening breeze. I was reminded of the breeze I felt during my first freefall attempt. That feeling of true freedom and trust in God, however short-lived, was so amazing. I can't stand the thought that this safety I'm holding onto, now, may kill me faster and cause more harm than if I were to take the leap, go back into the fray, fight the battle and win back the kingdom.
Asking What's at Risk sounds just like Jesus' words.
“What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?” (Matt. 16:26).
What choice does one have when faced with the truth that lies in the answer to this question?
From Journey of Desire, pp 12-13
"We use a phrase to try to console ourselves after what we think is an irrecoverable loss: “All good things come to an end.” I hate that phrase. It’s a lie. Even our troubles and our heartbreaks tell us something about our true destiny. The tragedies that strike us to the core and elicit the cry, “This isn’t the way it was supposed to be!” are also telling the truth—it isn’t the way it was supposed to be.
Pascal writes,
"Man is so great that his greatness appears even in knowing himself to be miserable. A tree has no sense of its misery. It is true that to know we are miserable is to be miserable; but to know we are miserable is also to be great. Thus all the miseries of man prove his grandeur; they are the miseries of a dignified personage, the miseries of a dethroned monarch . . . What can this incessant craving, and this impotence of attainment mean, unless there was once a happiness belonging to man, of which only the faintest traces remain, in that void which he attempts to fill with everything within his reach? (Pensées)
Should the king in exile pretend he is happy there? Should he not seek his own country? His miseries are his ally; they urge him on. And so let them grow, if need be. But do not forsake the secret of life; do not despise those kingly desires.
We abandon the most important journey of our lives when we abandon desire. We leave our hearts by the side of the road and head off in the direction of fitting in, getting by, being productive, what have you. Whatever we might gain— money, position, the approval of others, or just absence of the discontent itself—it’s not worth it."
Something happens inside me every time I reread this passage. Each of the 1000 times I have run across it or many other passages like it, I feel this tension of knowing I am meant to be so much more than what I allow myself to be. I want so badly to know and experience the life God has designed and made ready for Bryan Burwick, if only he would make the final leap and turn back. Within that same core space of my body I painfully remember all the countless times I've looked over the edge and told myself, "If you jump, you or someone you love won't make it to the other side alive."
So...
"What's at Risk for me if I were to jump.... I could lose my life... And what's at risk if I don't jump... I may never live..." So am I willing to take the risk of losing my life to find it?
Once, back in 2003, I decided the risk was worth it, no matter what. For a while, the free fall felt fantastic. But within a couple years, when things got tough and started to look scary in 2005 I pulled back before it was too, too late. I pulled the chute and chonosing to land somewhere in Exile of the life that could be.
Up to this point I haven't been willing to take that risk again. I've looked over the edge numerous times, trying to summon up the courage to jump once more. But I tell myself it's so much easier and safer to live in exile. I so want to jump ... and yet I am so afraid. I fear jumping at the wrong time for the wrong thing and in so doing losing everything I've gained ... safety.
For a while we felt like we had to fight and claw our way to saftey and survival. We had to fight to get to the point where there was no fear of paying the bills, going hungry or getting kicked out on the street.
But as I sat near the pool, the evening of July 4th, enjoying the cool evening breeze. I was reminded of the breeze I felt during my first freefall attempt. That feeling of true freedom and trust in God, however short-lived, was so amazing. I can't stand the thought that this safety I'm holding onto, now, may kill me faster and cause more harm than if I were to take the leap, go back into the fray, fight the battle and win back the kingdom.
Asking What's at Risk sounds just like Jesus' words.
“What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?” (Matt. 16:26).
What choice does one have when faced with the truth that lies in the answer to this question?
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