Thursday, June 12, 2003

Last night I watched a documentary on Cambodia. The film documented the turmoil that Cambodia has faced, particularly in the 70's. The story was told by a man, a flute player who was about 12 when the Khemer Rouge took over and seperated him from his family. He gives an account of the horror that this people faced. Two million people were killed over a course of four years when the Khemer Rouge took over. People were seperated from their families, made to work from 4 am to 12 am every day. People starved to death. Some were tortured. While others were murdered. This man, this flute player went back to Cambodia to try to revive the culture and arts of his people through music. And the pain that he went through is unimaginable. His work is to inspire others to leave a legacy behind-- to be remembered for their culture rather than their killing fields.

Which brings me to this place: I am ashamed that I am so self-absorbed. I am ashamed that I see my struggle as suffering in light of others starving and dying in other parts of the world. I'm ashamed that I take for granted my 'priveledge'... my 'blessing' by not recognizing it... I think that I know pain...

I pray that my heart will be changed to be compassionate... to fight for justice... to love the broken... to feed the poor... to be humbled.

Sunday, June 08, 2003

I spoke with a friend about the previous post about desire and isolation and she brought up a good thought about having a harder time staying engaged in relationship when the 'other' shows her goodness. Thus, bringing me to this post: the paradox of dignity and depravity.

In C group someone said that he would prefer to earn his salvation rather than it be a gift through grace. Why is grace and unconditional love so hard for us to receive? As Christians our whole theology is based on grace, and yet we are so unwilling to receive. I say 'unwilling' because I really think that it is a way for us to maintain 'control' of our existence. If we can control-- we don't need to die to ourselves. Which I think is the greatest sin... not dieing to self and staying in control. Our depravity is that we want to do 'this' apart from God. And the pull between his dignity and our sin maintains our constant chaos. We want forgiveness... we don't want grace... we want salvation... we want to earn it... we want we want we want-- I want! And the cycle continues... In C group our leader talked about coming to a place where we can choose not to sin... and the only way that we can choose not to sin is to die to self and rely on Christ.

Relationship is key to this dynamic. As relationship provides us with a mirror of ourselves. We are subjective beings. In relationship the 'other' shows us how we sin and fail both directly and indirectly. Frank and I have struggled in our marriage. I used to think that if I did this, this and this we would have a perfect marriage-- free of struggle and pain. Then I realized that Frank is the one I struggle with most-- the one I feel the most pain with because it is relationship with him where I live out my depravity. You see, I do this in all relationships but with Frank I can't hide. Relationship is humbling... it mirrors our weakness...

I experienced some pain in the context of a group that I go to. I felt unseen, unheard, unexperienced and uncared for... my instinct is to hide... run... flee... (fight or flight) so I left and on my drive home as I was crying out I realized that God has called me to relationship regardless if people see me, hear me, care for me, etc. I realized that Jesus experienced this relational element of pain. In the garden of Gethsethme those that claimed to love him fell asleep... His last night on this earth... they fell asleep on him. Christ just handled his pain much better than I ever do-- giving himself over and dying on a cross. I handle it by retaliating and making others pay. I realized it's time to grow up, humble myself and stay in relationship. And when grace is too good for me to recieve (in my perception) I must recognize that in faith I must believe that there's not a damn thing I can do to earn it. I must surrender myself to the goodness of God that I may become less and He become more.