Hello all! As some of may have heard, my research proposal to the Christian Congregational Music Conference has been accepted! I am extremely happy for this opportunity, and have a busy few months of research ahead of me.
My proposal is to study the correlation between style of music (genre) performed in a given congregation during Sunday services and the position of that church on the question of Queer acceptance. The suggestion has been made that open and affirming churches perform a certain repertoire and style of music, while churches that are either open but not affirming or closed and not affirming perform another. My first question is: Is this the case? My second is: If so, why? If not, why is that the perception among some Queer identifying people? My final objective for this paper is to highlight the ways in which the theological and ethical identity of a congregation is reflected or challenged by the musics performed as normative worship. What might the implications of any conclusion drawn from this course of study be for practitioners and church leaders?
In addition to this research project, I have been given a couple of awesome opportunities to do some creative writing, and if all goes according to plan, you will be able to enjoy the fruit of my labor very soon! In any case, I will update here when more can be shared. But for now, take my word for it: it's gonna be awesome!
All of this to say, in addition to the small and insignificant task (sarcasm) of being the primary caregiver for a 1 year old, I am not going to be updating the old blog here as frequently with as much depth as I would like. I will still update it regularly, but the posts will just be shorter.
May you all be blessed with grace, peace, and faith over the coming months.
NATHAN MYRICK
Showing posts with label Responsibility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Responsibility. Show all posts
Let's Talk About Non-Violence
I made a commitment to non-violence in 2009, after surviving the coup that ousted Honduran then-president Manuel Zalaya. It wasn't that singular event that persuaded me to commit to peace, but was rather a long series of events that culminated in a so called "moment of clarity."
Antecedents
My spiritual heritage finds its roots in the undercurrent of 16th century religious reform - alternately called the "Radical Reformation," "the Anabaptists (re-baptizers)," or the "left wing" of the Protestant Reformation. Despite some suggestions to the contrary, most scholars now agree that this movement originated in Zurich ca 1524. The hallmarks of this type of Christianity are equality among the faithful, social justice, and non-violence (there are of course other aspects of this heritage that are emphasized by others, but these are the points of emphasis in my religious history).
I grew up always having some notion that lethal violence was bad, and that it was always better for people to live than to die. But along the way I became convinced that there were certain situations where it was necessary for someone to die. Most compelling to me was the history of WWII. I was absolutely convinced that the Allies were right in opposing Hitler's Nazism. This conviction illustrated to me that there are certain situations that demand lethal force.
Exceptions that prove or exceptions that deny?
So let me back up a little bit and explain what exactly I mean by non-violence. Non-violence to me is a pretext for dialogue: It is an orientation of discourse that seeks to answer the injustices of such evils as Nazism before they demand violent response. Non-violence to me is not a reactive measure - a passive resignation to the triumph of evil should it manifest itself in power - but is a proactive stance that seeks to identify evil before it has a chance to take root. That stance attempts to reveal and subvert evil before it demands violent response. The failure in the context of WWII was not the Allied response to Hitler's aggression, but was instead the unwillingness to check the Nazi regime's aggression preemptively.
Make it smaller.
Okay, so Nazi's and the holocaust are extreme examples, and hopefully not ones we are ever going to face in real life (although don't rule it out). What about a mugging? Or a home invasion? What then? Do we condemn our families to death by inaction when it seems unavoidable? Again, the answer is pre-emptive. What can I do to identify those potentialities and undercut them before they become reality? Can I avoid a mugging by how I dress? Can I avoid a home invasion by not flaunting my wealth or by making sure my house is secure? Perhaps not, but I can work towards reforming the social conditions that make mugging or home invasion attractive activities. I can advocate for better working conditions for others. I can commit myself to a community where my neighbors know me and know that I am looking out for their interests, and hopefully they will do the same.
Boil it down.
But ultimately, it boils down to a faith that relies on God for my protection and an understanding of the world that sees Love as the antithesis of fear and hatred. I cannot profess loving someone I kill, and therefore I cannot kill someone if I profess to love them.
Antecedents
My spiritual heritage finds its roots in the undercurrent of 16th century religious reform - alternately called the "Radical Reformation," "the Anabaptists (re-baptizers)," or the "left wing" of the Protestant Reformation. Despite some suggestions to the contrary, most scholars now agree that this movement originated in Zurich ca 1524. The hallmarks of this type of Christianity are equality among the faithful, social justice, and non-violence (there are of course other aspects of this heritage that are emphasized by others, but these are the points of emphasis in my religious history).
I grew up always having some notion that lethal violence was bad, and that it was always better for people to live than to die. But along the way I became convinced that there were certain situations where it was necessary for someone to die. Most compelling to me was the history of WWII. I was absolutely convinced that the Allies were right in opposing Hitler's Nazism. This conviction illustrated to me that there are certain situations that demand lethal force.
Exceptions that prove or exceptions that deny?
So let me back up a little bit and explain what exactly I mean by non-violence. Non-violence to me is a pretext for dialogue: It is an orientation of discourse that seeks to answer the injustices of such evils as Nazism before they demand violent response. Non-violence to me is not a reactive measure - a passive resignation to the triumph of evil should it manifest itself in power - but is a proactive stance that seeks to identify evil before it has a chance to take root. That stance attempts to reveal and subvert evil before it demands violent response. The failure in the context of WWII was not the Allied response to Hitler's aggression, but was instead the unwillingness to check the Nazi regime's aggression preemptively.
Make it smaller.
Okay, so Nazi's and the holocaust are extreme examples, and hopefully not ones we are ever going to face in real life (although don't rule it out). What about a mugging? Or a home invasion? What then? Do we condemn our families to death by inaction when it seems unavoidable? Again, the answer is pre-emptive. What can I do to identify those potentialities and undercut them before they become reality? Can I avoid a mugging by how I dress? Can I avoid a home invasion by not flaunting my wealth or by making sure my house is secure? Perhaps not, but I can work towards reforming the social conditions that make mugging or home invasion attractive activities. I can advocate for better working conditions for others. I can commit myself to a community where my neighbors know me and know that I am looking out for their interests, and hopefully they will do the same.
Boil it down.
But ultimately, it boils down to a faith that relies on God for my protection and an understanding of the world that sees Love as the antithesis of fear and hatred. I cannot profess loving someone I kill, and therefore I cannot kill someone if I profess to love them.
Let's Talk About Tone
Over the past few months my social media channels have become more and more saturated with social debates on a broad range of topics. As I have sought to engage these topics effectively, I have become more and more combative in my engagements. This is not due to an intention but to a lack thereof.
Let me explain.
It has always been my purpose in any such debate to advocate for my position with a particular tone: that of gentleness, respect, and love. But over time, this intention became over shadowed by a desire for my voice to be heard. This desire to be heard resulted in an increase in volume, and a decrease in the nuance of my tone.
Think of it like a guitar amplifier.
Many guitar amps sound great turned all the way up. But when I say they sound great, I mean in terms of distortion. I personally LOVE distortion in my guitar amp--a modded 100w Marshall half stack--but the tone emitted from the speakers when cranked and distorted is only appropriate for certain functions. When accompanying a jazz crooner my distorted guitar amp is completely the wrong tone.
It is the same with conversations about justice and equality.
What I or anyone else has to say on those topics may well be valid, needed--even right. But if the mode of purveying that perspective is a cranked up Marshall in an intimate gathering then the beauty of both the gathering and the Marshall is completely lost.
How do you know if it's the right tone?
Does it build up or tear down? Does it belittle or encourage? That is how you know whether the tone of your argument is right. Even if the other party is wrong, you will not be right if your tone is combative and devaluing of their perspective. And from a purely practical perspective, you will never achieve you true aims through combative dialogue.
And friends, I've been combative. And I'm here to tell you I've been wrong.
Not about my positions. I will continue to advocate for the marginalized and the oppressed, because that is what Jesus did and what he clearly expects from his followers. But the way I do so must always be in love. This love does not mean that I silently allow evil to be carried out, but that by my words and actions I expose that evil for what it is without becoming evil myself. And I become evil myself when I fight evil with evil.
And do you know why I fight evil with evil?
Because I am afraid. Afraid of not sticking up for the right cause. Afraid of losing an argument. Afraid of losing face after losing an argument. But fear is always the wrong reason to engage. Fear creates more fear; creates more enemies. But love makes enemies less so. Not by allowing them to do evil uncontested, but by contesting it in such a way as to reveal its depravity without becoming evil in the process.
But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same?And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Mt. 5:44-48.
Let me explain.
It has always been my purpose in any such debate to advocate for my position with a particular tone: that of gentleness, respect, and love. But over time, this intention became over shadowed by a desire for my voice to be heard. This desire to be heard resulted in an increase in volume, and a decrease in the nuance of my tone.
Think of it like a guitar amplifier.
Many guitar amps sound great turned all the way up. But when I say they sound great, I mean in terms of distortion. I personally LOVE distortion in my guitar amp--a modded 100w Marshall half stack--but the tone emitted from the speakers when cranked and distorted is only appropriate for certain functions. When accompanying a jazz crooner my distorted guitar amp is completely the wrong tone.
It is the same with conversations about justice and equality.
What I or anyone else has to say on those topics may well be valid, needed--even right. But if the mode of purveying that perspective is a cranked up Marshall in an intimate gathering then the beauty of both the gathering and the Marshall is completely lost.
How do you know if it's the right tone?
Does it build up or tear down? Does it belittle or encourage? That is how you know whether the tone of your argument is right. Even if the other party is wrong, you will not be right if your tone is combative and devaluing of their perspective. And from a purely practical perspective, you will never achieve you true aims through combative dialogue.
And friends, I've been combative. And I'm here to tell you I've been wrong.
Not about my positions. I will continue to advocate for the marginalized and the oppressed, because that is what Jesus did and what he clearly expects from his followers. But the way I do so must always be in love. This love does not mean that I silently allow evil to be carried out, but that by my words and actions I expose that evil for what it is without becoming evil myself. And I become evil myself when I fight evil with evil.
And do you know why I fight evil with evil?
Because I am afraid. Afraid of not sticking up for the right cause. Afraid of losing an argument. Afraid of losing face after losing an argument. But fear is always the wrong reason to engage. Fear creates more fear; creates more enemies. But love makes enemies less so. Not by allowing them to do evil uncontested, but by contesting it in such a way as to reveal its depravity without becoming evil in the process.
But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same?And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Mt. 5:44-48.
Why Am I A Christian?
After a long conversation with an atheistic friend, he turned to me and asked--with great gentleness and compassion--"so why are you a Christian?"
It seems that after the conversation he was unable to see how anything I was saying (and let me be clear, this was not an evangelistic conversation) needed a "god" figure to underwrite it. To him, it was just perfectly clear and obvious that it was better to love others; better to give than to take; better to pursue peace; better to pursue healthy relationships with others. It was just better, he didn't need "god" to prove and command that they were better--they just were.
This raised an interesting puzzle for me. Now, obviously not every person is as amazing as my friend, and would, if given the chance throw off the consequential weight that "god" brings to relationships. But I had to stop and ask myself- "Why am I a Christian? Especially when Christians are so often opposed to the things I am for?" I admit, I was stumped.
And maybe I still am. Or would be, if I wasn't thoroughly convinced of the reality of sin. I see sin--that is, destructive acts and relationships--everywhere I turned. Especially in my own life. And I recognize that there is no way for me to stop sinning or being a part of systematic sinfulness in the society I live in. And so I still need a savior. Not to let me keep on being a part of that sinful system while white washing the tomb of my participation, but by offering me a way out of that system and into life for not only myself but for others also.
I am a Christian because I still need a savior. I know that sounds trite and perhaps does not satisfy anyone. But it is simply the truth. I still need someone to reach in and pull me out of the mess of evil I create and perpetuate. We can get into all sorts of debate about ontological reasons for sin or good or evil or God, but that is not my purpose here.
I am a Christian because I still need a community of people that are committed to the same restoration and healing that I am. But what's strange about that is that community is not always found in Christian circles. This of course causes me to question whether my commitment is to Christianity or to something else. But it also causes me to question whether or not the way we define "Christianity" as a collective whole is also not actually a commitment to Christ, but to something else. Maybe God's plan for the world is much bigger than distinguishing between who is "in" and who is "out." I don't know. But I hope. And the reality is, I am a Christian, because I am committed to following Jesus, who is my savior and the source of my community.
It seems that after the conversation he was unable to see how anything I was saying (and let me be clear, this was not an evangelistic conversation) needed a "god" figure to underwrite it. To him, it was just perfectly clear and obvious that it was better to love others; better to give than to take; better to pursue peace; better to pursue healthy relationships with others. It was just better, he didn't need "god" to prove and command that they were better--they just were.
This raised an interesting puzzle for me. Now, obviously not every person is as amazing as my friend, and would, if given the chance throw off the consequential weight that "god" brings to relationships. But I had to stop and ask myself- "Why am I a Christian? Especially when Christians are so often opposed to the things I am for?" I admit, I was stumped.
And maybe I still am. Or would be, if I wasn't thoroughly convinced of the reality of sin. I see sin--that is, destructive acts and relationships--everywhere I turned. Especially in my own life. And I recognize that there is no way for me to stop sinning or being a part of systematic sinfulness in the society I live in. And so I still need a savior. Not to let me keep on being a part of that sinful system while white washing the tomb of my participation, but by offering me a way out of that system and into life for not only myself but for others also.
I am a Christian because I still need a savior. I know that sounds trite and perhaps does not satisfy anyone. But it is simply the truth. I still need someone to reach in and pull me out of the mess of evil I create and perpetuate. We can get into all sorts of debate about ontological reasons for sin or good or evil or God, but that is not my purpose here.
I am a Christian because I still need a community of people that are committed to the same restoration and healing that I am. But what's strange about that is that community is not always found in Christian circles. This of course causes me to question whether my commitment is to Christianity or to something else. But it also causes me to question whether or not the way we define "Christianity" as a collective whole is also not actually a commitment to Christ, but to something else. Maybe God's plan for the world is much bigger than distinguishing between who is "in" and who is "out." I don't know. But I hope. And the reality is, I am a Christian, because I am committed to following Jesus, who is my savior and the source of my community.
Blind Spots
I just finished reading Mark Labberton's new book Called. It is a wonderfully thoughtful and pastoral exhortation to live life in such a way as to be the gospel in an embodied way. I highly recommend it.
As I was reading it, I began thinking about the ways I do and do not live into that calling. My thoughts drifted to my church, and to my service there (and by service, I do not mean to imply that I am in charge. I simply serve there--in a volunteer capacity). My thinking turned to reflection, and I remembered a series of events from the previous year that led me to question my involvement in that community.
Now, before you get the wrong idea, I'm not going to get into any sort of detail regarding those events. I am instead going to offer the insights I gained from some of those events: what it means to belong to a community and to serve there.
I have written before about using your voice in service, and I do not want to retread too much on that topic, but as I've moved further from the time I wrote that post one thing in particular has come into sharper focus as the days have passed. That thing is humility wrapped up in confidence tied in with honesty.
Speaking your mind is a hard thing to do, especially in a big group of people who are driven and determined to accomplish something. It gets even harder when the opinion you are giving voice to is one of dissent from the prevailing attitude. This is most often because we are afraid of being alienated or labelled as "party poopers." Nobody wants the reputation of being the one who upset the jovial onrush of energy or action.
But it is important to do for two reasons. The first is obvious, and that is that it may be what others need to hear. You may have the right insight for the situation and can help steer the ship in a more healthy direction. But the second is not so obvious, at least, not at first.
The second reason is that sharing your perspective allows other people to have a glimpse into your world. It allows you to be known. This being known is the first step to being held accountable. If you truly want to grow in faith and community, you need other people to know who you are and to speak into your life when you need it.
This is the part that we really don't want, but at some level recognize that we need. And this is the challenge of being a part of a faith community. If we want to grow in our faith, and in turn participate in others growth, we need to be a part of the action. We need to voice our agreements and our disagreements--not with the purpose of getting our way (although that is a hard purpose to avoid) but with the purpose of being known and convicted if we are wrong.
And that means opening your life up to others.
There is always a down side, though. Not everyone takes this approach, and still fewer are able to recognize it and reciprocate when it is enacted. There are few things more disheartening than taking this step, voicing your opinion coupled with an invitation for others to speak to your position and identify sinful attitudes in your life, and have the response be exclusion and silence.
But that too shall pass. Keep at it. Keep voicing your opinion. Keep asking for input and accountability. Make it known that you truly want to grow, and to be a part of a community that is growing, too. Don't disconnect, keep connecting and engaging. Eventually there will be a response--maybe a negative one--but that will at least give you something to go on. And even then don't give up! Growth is sometimes painful, but necessary. Be ready to forgive and receive forgiveness.
And if the situation becomes evidently toxic, be ready to move on. Sometimes communities are not a fit for everyone, and there will be another community where you will fit. But don't make that move until you've tried everything to get connected and stay that way.
As I was reading it, I began thinking about the ways I do and do not live into that calling. My thoughts drifted to my church, and to my service there (and by service, I do not mean to imply that I am in charge. I simply serve there--in a volunteer capacity). My thinking turned to reflection, and I remembered a series of events from the previous year that led me to question my involvement in that community.
Now, before you get the wrong idea, I'm not going to get into any sort of detail regarding those events. I am instead going to offer the insights I gained from some of those events: what it means to belong to a community and to serve there.
I have written before about using your voice in service, and I do not want to retread too much on that topic, but as I've moved further from the time I wrote that post one thing in particular has come into sharper focus as the days have passed. That thing is humility wrapped up in confidence tied in with honesty.
Speaking your mind is a hard thing to do, especially in a big group of people who are driven and determined to accomplish something. It gets even harder when the opinion you are giving voice to is one of dissent from the prevailing attitude. This is most often because we are afraid of being alienated or labelled as "party poopers." Nobody wants the reputation of being the one who upset the jovial onrush of energy or action.
But it is important to do for two reasons. The first is obvious, and that is that it may be what others need to hear. You may have the right insight for the situation and can help steer the ship in a more healthy direction. But the second is not so obvious, at least, not at first.
The second reason is that sharing your perspective allows other people to have a glimpse into your world. It allows you to be known. This being known is the first step to being held accountable. If you truly want to grow in faith and community, you need other people to know who you are and to speak into your life when you need it.
This is the part that we really don't want, but at some level recognize that we need. And this is the challenge of being a part of a faith community. If we want to grow in our faith, and in turn participate in others growth, we need to be a part of the action. We need to voice our agreements and our disagreements--not with the purpose of getting our way (although that is a hard purpose to avoid) but with the purpose of being known and convicted if we are wrong.
And that means opening your life up to others.
There is always a down side, though. Not everyone takes this approach, and still fewer are able to recognize it and reciprocate when it is enacted. There are few things more disheartening than taking this step, voicing your opinion coupled with an invitation for others to speak to your position and identify sinful attitudes in your life, and have the response be exclusion and silence.
But that too shall pass. Keep at it. Keep voicing your opinion. Keep asking for input and accountability. Make it known that you truly want to grow, and to be a part of a community that is growing, too. Don't disconnect, keep connecting and engaging. Eventually there will be a response--maybe a negative one--but that will at least give you something to go on. And even then don't give up! Growth is sometimes painful, but necessary. Be ready to forgive and receive forgiveness.
And if the situation becomes evidently toxic, be ready to move on. Sometimes communities are not a fit for everyone, and there will be another community where you will fit. But don't make that move until you've tried everything to get connected and stay that way.
Tone
Have you ever noticed that you can tell which side of an argument a person favors just from the tone of their voice? They don't even have to take a side for you to know where they stand. You can just tell. Tone is also indicative of religious or philosophical leanings. I can peg a televangelist from a mile away because of the tone of his voice. And I bet you can too.
More than just a sound.
More than just a sound.
But there are other kinds of tone. For instance, the sorts of words we use to describe a situation or topic can also be a kind of tone. When courtroom drawings were regular occurrences in newspapers, the way the characters in the trial were depicted was a type of tone; sometimes the way the artist drew the defendant would be a determining factor of whether or not they were found guilty.
Tone matters.
The tone we use can have far reaching consequences. If the tone I carry when writing on this blog is too cynical, I stand to lose influence with those who are committed to the topics I address here. If too rigid, those who disagree with me will tune me out.
Appropriate, or fitting-ness, of tone.
Is there ever a time when an abrasive tone is the most effective? I think there is. For instance, when a child is about to run into traffic an urgent and authoritative/controlling tone is needed in both word and action. But what about something a little less obvious? Say doctrinal allegiance? If a certain doctrinal stance is vital to you, are you willing for your tone to exclude those who disagree from your church? Is your own personal righteousness dependent on an unwavering tone?
Consider the effect of your tone before you speak and act.
It is okay and even good to make a stand on things that matter to you. But when your stance is one of exclusion and ostracism you gain nothing. You may even lose those who were entrusted into your care. It is okay to disagree, but the tone of your disagreement matters more than your position, especially if you are trying to lead people in following Jesus. Think about that next time you address one of the more divisive topics in society.
Tone matters.
The tone we use can have far reaching consequences. If the tone I carry when writing on this blog is too cynical, I stand to lose influence with those who are committed to the topics I address here. If too rigid, those who disagree with me will tune me out.
Appropriate, or fitting-ness, of tone.
Is there ever a time when an abrasive tone is the most effective? I think there is. For instance, when a child is about to run into traffic an urgent and authoritative/controlling tone is needed in both word and action. But what about something a little less obvious? Say doctrinal allegiance? If a certain doctrinal stance is vital to you, are you willing for your tone to exclude those who disagree from your church? Is your own personal righteousness dependent on an unwavering tone?
Consider the effect of your tone before you speak and act.
It is okay and even good to make a stand on things that matter to you. But when your stance is one of exclusion and ostracism you gain nothing. You may even lose those who were entrusted into your care. It is okay to disagree, but the tone of your disagreement matters more than your position, especially if you are trying to lead people in following Jesus. Think about that next time you address one of the more divisive topics in society.
The Genie is Not Free; He's Dead.
Robin Williams died yesterday of an apparent suicide. By now I'm sure this is not news, and in fact most of you will be tired of reading about it; but please, don't stop reading this now because I have jumped on the bandwagon. I actually have something I wish to say.
The Academy tweeted this after news of Williams' apparent suicide broke:
"Genie, you're free"
I am going to be horrifically cold and abrasive in my next line, so if you wish to maintain a nice illusion of my person you'd better quit reading now (see how contradictory I am?).
Genie, you're not free; you're dead.
Dear Academy: please stop confusing sentimentality with comfort and filling the hearts and heads of those who listen to you with the idea that if you end your life in a fit of depression you will be free!
While comforting in a superficial, shallow way, this sentiment is actually incredibly destructive! The most devastating evils in the history of the world have become so because they were packaged as something nice and safe. But they were not.
By glorifying suicide as a means of escape from the horrors of life we are causing these horrors. It is like filling your baby's bottle with heroin; it tastes good and will make the kid sleep, but then it kills him.
If you are entirely out of hope; if the horrors of life have caught you and you can see no way out, there are people who will help you. If you feel like there is no one to help, email me. I will find you someone who will help you. And please listen to me when I say that ending your life will not let you escape the pain; you will just be dead. There is hope, and there is healing.
The Academy tweeted this after news of Williams' apparent suicide broke:
"Genie, you're free"
I am going to be horrifically cold and abrasive in my next line, so if you wish to maintain a nice illusion of my person you'd better quit reading now (see how contradictory I am?).
Genie, you're not free; you're dead.
Dear Academy: please stop confusing sentimentality with comfort and filling the hearts and heads of those who listen to you with the idea that if you end your life in a fit of depression you will be free!
While comforting in a superficial, shallow way, this sentiment is actually incredibly destructive! The most devastating evils in the history of the world have become so because they were packaged as something nice and safe. But they were not.
By glorifying suicide as a means of escape from the horrors of life we are causing these horrors. It is like filling your baby's bottle with heroin; it tastes good and will make the kid sleep, but then it kills him.
If you are entirely out of hope; if the horrors of life have caught you and you can see no way out, there are people who will help you. If you feel like there is no one to help, email me. I will find you someone who will help you. And please listen to me when I say that ending your life will not let you escape the pain; you will just be dead. There is hope, and there is healing.
Being vs Doing, vs Doing vs Feeling, vs Doing vs Doing
Who are you?
No, not what do you do, but who are you?
Now, could you be this person without doing what you do?
How does this make you feel?
We spend a lot of time thinking about who we are.
Have you ever noticed that sometime during their early twenty's most people will struggle to define themselves and articulate that definition in some semblance of existential identity. And identity is really what we are/were all after; we wanted to figure out what identified us as us.
Somewhere along the line we started realizing that what we did was not who we were. Or, at least we thought so. But there were other thoughts crowding out that one, because even if we listened to that thought, another was whispering,
"But if you don't do anything, how can you be anything?"
In the middle of this neurological dialogue our feelings may have interrupted and asserted that they were the real source of identity; doing or saying anything oppositional to how we felt was false, because our feelings were the source of our identity. Of course, we intuited that this wasn't quite right either, and then we began trying to understand what it meant to do something without being that something.
And here we came to the crux of the search for identity: the difference between doing and doing. See, if our being has nothing to do with our doing, then how do we know we exist if we never do anything to signify that existence? Being is not an object of understanding alone, but is also an object of substance, as who we are is displayed by our actions; "you can tell a tree by its fruit"-Jesus.
But doing an action is different than doing a job. And here we need to articulate the distinction between action and vocation. Much of what I feared in being defined by what I did was the obsession I nurtured with occupation, or a lack thereof. I did not want to be defined by what I did to earn a living. And in this sense, doing is different than being. But in the more important sense, what we do in terms of words, thoughts, actions, flows from and into who we are as humans.
We are not merely our doings, but we are not apart from them either.
This inseparability is not confined to the projected sense of being; our doing also forms our being. It creates us, makes us who we are. If you wanted to become a soccer player, you played soccer. You did the thing you wanted to be until you were good enough at doing it that you became it. The same concept holds true for other things as well, such as thankfulness, gentleness, patience, etc. We become these things by practicing them. And so in an important sense we become what we do.
This works negatively as well.
If we continually act in anger, arrogance, entitlement, pride, we will become those things- even if we did not start off being them! It is not inauthentic to practice patience even if you do not feel patient. It is transformative. The act of trying to be patient makes you more patient.
If you find yourself arguing with yourself about who you are vs what you do, remember that eventually you will become what you do.
No, not what do you do, but who are you?
Now, could you be this person without doing what you do?
How does this make you feel?
We spend a lot of time thinking about who we are.
Have you ever noticed that sometime during their early twenty's most people will struggle to define themselves and articulate that definition in some semblance of existential identity. And identity is really what we are/were all after; we wanted to figure out what identified us as us.
Somewhere along the line we started realizing that what we did was not who we were. Or, at least we thought so. But there were other thoughts crowding out that one, because even if we listened to that thought, another was whispering,
"But if you don't do anything, how can you be anything?"
In the middle of this neurological dialogue our feelings may have interrupted and asserted that they were the real source of identity; doing or saying anything oppositional to how we felt was false, because our feelings were the source of our identity. Of course, we intuited that this wasn't quite right either, and then we began trying to understand what it meant to do something without being that something.
And here we came to the crux of the search for identity: the difference between doing and doing. See, if our being has nothing to do with our doing, then how do we know we exist if we never do anything to signify that existence? Being is not an object of understanding alone, but is also an object of substance, as who we are is displayed by our actions; "you can tell a tree by its fruit"-Jesus.
But doing an action is different than doing a job. And here we need to articulate the distinction between action and vocation. Much of what I feared in being defined by what I did was the obsession I nurtured with occupation, or a lack thereof. I did not want to be defined by what I did to earn a living. And in this sense, doing is different than being. But in the more important sense, what we do in terms of words, thoughts, actions, flows from and into who we are as humans.
We are not merely our doings, but we are not apart from them either.
This inseparability is not confined to the projected sense of being; our doing also forms our being. It creates us, makes us who we are. If you wanted to become a soccer player, you played soccer. You did the thing you wanted to be until you were good enough at doing it that you became it. The same concept holds true for other things as well, such as thankfulness, gentleness, patience, etc. We become these things by practicing them. And so in an important sense we become what we do.
This works negatively as well.
If we continually act in anger, arrogance, entitlement, pride, we will become those things- even if we did not start off being them! It is not inauthentic to practice patience even if you do not feel patient. It is transformative. The act of trying to be patient makes you more patient.
If you find yourself arguing with yourself about who you are vs what you do, remember that eventually you will become what you do.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)