Its a well known adage that one can feel lonely while in the midst of a crowd. We've all (I presume) experienced it; being the one standing in the corner at a party, walking alone in a foreign country and not understanding a word around you, or feeling alienated among old friends at a school reunion.
But there's a much more insidious, and dare I say widely prevalent loneliness that is of far greater consequence. I seem to have been unknowingly circling this topic and its now crept closer and surprised me (see: where's our conversation, how to speak wisdom, talking to aliens, suppression and expression of public passion, finding mathematical contentment). I'm talking of the loneliness found within relationship. If I even look back at only the last few weeks I'm conscious how often I've seen this loneliness. The retired couple who tolerate each other out of habit, the extrovert who let his guard slip and exposed a hole of loneliness, the person who's dying and isn't letting anyone into their fears, and all the ones living on the edge of a divorce that they don't see coming. This is the loneliness that hides under cover of friendly social norms. Its the loneliness that grows because we can't find someone to share a passion we hold dearly. All relationships have some measure of this, and it naturally causes little pools of sadness that there is something that another doesn't share. This is perfectly normal, to be expected, and most people cope fine. In some ways a slice of loneliness can help one find empathy. But when that absence of a connection lies in an area of deep felt passion, of a feeling that we find hard to express, it becomes the cause of deep frustration. No wonder artists are often deeply unsettled people, they're struggling to share something burning inside. Its no wonder that painters and musicians need their art to find some way to connect their deep passions with those around them, to find an expression that will create a sharing in relationship - its something we're all hungering for. I like to talk to myself - it helps. But having someone else to share my passion is even better. Those who have a close friend with who they can really converse are truly blessed in this world of digital isolation. Those who marry a friend, likewise. But many people only have social circles of shallowness. There are all too many relationships where all they have are conversations of convenience; what maybe started as a lust never grew into love. Thinking about this type of loneliness explains a lot, especially about why couples break up. If something is deeply important to me and I have no-one to share that passion, then I'm lonely in that area. Perhaps this is a root contribution to divorce - this loneliness even in relationship? This is the only explanation I can find for someone who was close to me. He divorced his wife for no clear reason, and could (would) not explain it to me. Increasingly I'm thinking that he allowed the slices of loneliness to grow ever larger until they consumed his love. We have to fight this loneliness in relationship. And that makes me think of about friend, and another, and another ... all have divorced or are getting divorced ... have they let their passions nurture a loneliness within their relationship? (And I also wonder if that is why many lifestyle Christians don't have this loneliness? Perhaps because there's no passion that they desire to share?)
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The title is with apologies to this phdcomics post. I live a life of frustration over conversation. On the one hand I have limited energy for extrovert time (that time when you have to put your body into gear so that your mind can do the social engagement thing). On the other hand, when I do switch on the external functions, I'm often disappointed by the result - especially in Christian circles. So when I recently read a blog post where the author invited people to continue the conversation by buying his book, I reacted. I actually wrote an email to him (his blog does not allow comments!). Saying "buy the book" is not conversation, however good the book may be. Books have other purposes. As a Christian I am frustrated by the dearth of opportunity to actually have real conversation. There's no shortage of topics. In church circles it gets even worse: it seems that leadership are (necessarily?) consumed in tasks (see meetings!) rather than available for true conversation, while those in the pews shortly share various degrees of naiveté or insight (and how do we know which is which?). There are some who try to cross the divisions, but generally "conversation" is perhaps more a case of messages being pushed at each other - albeit with the best of intentions. Conversation is one part listening, one part reflection, and one part speaking. We've really got that last part down well! Twitter, snapchat, blogs(!), tumblr, facebook, even lowly email: we troll the universe demanding the impossible while denigrating the possible, pushing out abbreviated "speak" at high frequency into a void of mindless ears and eyes. Do we abbreviate so we can get it out quickly, or do we do it frequently because we abbreviate; is it all a personal gish gallop rooted in our intellectual insecurity? Even within the church's culture of yesteryear its preaching, teaching, singing, notices, instructions, reactions, functions, pleasantries in the foyer, and inanities over tea until we wave "bye" and say "see you next week" meaning "... maybe, all else being equal, and if nothing more pressing comes up". Conversation takes time and commitment. We really haven't got that down well! So I propose that our next decision could be to stop talking, and start creating ... spaces. Spaces in time, spaces in places, spaces that are inviting, spaces that are listening, spaces that are reflection, and spaces that are conversing.
There's a mystery, a sermon has gone missing and no one has noticed. Has it been stolen and no one has missed it (possibly, but by who?). Is it being deliberately hidden for fear of consequences (my suspicions run deep here)? Is it simply redundant in this age of individualism (I think some parts may have been lost to this deception)?
I don't remember many sermons, but that's not a problem. Sermons are there to stimulate my thinking, to help me internalize new understanding, to grow awareness of who and what I am, and that's more important than remembering 30 minutes of someone talking. Of all sermons I would say that nearly everyone of them has fallen into some combination of these categories:
This missing sermon is the dark sheep of the family, one we don't like to talk about, its the sermon of instruction. Its an awkward creature and wears a strong mantle of authority; a big and imposing figure that makes people react and makes its presence felt ... you might like it or hate it, but you can't ignore it. The sermon of instruction is the one where leadership say "this is what we are going to do, this is where we're going, and you there in the pews, you need to do the following, and we in the leadership expect this of you". It's a sermon where authority is exercised, and its exciting but very dangerous, in multiple ways. First, its obviously dangerous because the leadership may have got their ideas all mixed up and be pulling/pushing in the wrong direction. Second, its dangerous because there's a line that could be crossed which leads to abuse of power. Third, there are some who love being told what to do, and so will follow unthinkingly. Fourth, leadership can easily grow an unrealistic ego when they see some people follow. But danger is a necessity in a tool of effectiveness. A sharp knife is dangerous, yet you need one to cut bread. Electricity is dangerous, but you need it to run a motor. The Spirit is dangerous because he'll usually turn things upside down, but you need that to avoid atrophy, stagnation, and death. The leaders of today, as a generalization, seem to have bought into the ideas of "I must only encourage for fear of offence", or "I must grow the peoples intellect", or "I must fight against change to preserve what we've always had", or "I know what I'm doing and people must obey", or "let's just all be a nice jolly family". The sermon of instruction is all and none of these. The sermon of instruction is one that does not compel but leaves the choice in the hearts and minds of the hearer. Its a message of direction with no promise of safety, but a promise of joy. Its an invitation that says "by the authority vested in me, this is where I'm going because that's where God is going, and I want you to come with me." And most of all its a message of consequence. So we fear it, for ourselves and for the responsibility it carries. We hide it because in this age committing politically incorrect offence is the unpardonable culture sin. And for our own comfort we argue that society is beyond this, for are we not empowered individuals who will lead ourselves, thank you very much? Yet the hunger to be led remains, however much we strive for individualism. We know deep down we are not all competent. And so some churches leverage this through legalistic cultures (such as saying woman may not teach, and we'll tell you who and when you can marry) which grows a body of believers who live on the edge of emotional abuse (no names here, but there are plenty of examples, some very recent). Can we all please play detective? Let's find that missing sermon, let's open the box, pick it up, dust it off, and say to God "What instruction will it carry this time?". The prophets of old lived the sermon of instruction, Jesus embodied the sermon of instruction, and the apostles all preached the sermon of instruction, and they all led by example in following God's instruction. Each of us, you and I, all carry some measure of authority, whether it be the authority to speak from the front or authority to talk to our neighbour. Each of us need to find our sermon of instruction, learn to hold this dangerous tool, and speak it out. In this age we need it more than ever. I watched a video titled "They became what they beheld" (see below - its thought provoking and fun) - sadly its a truism that we most often become what we spend time beholding. The video struck a chord with me because it reflects many of the reasons for why I write (see sidebar). It also spoke of "the wisest words I know", and yes, in context there were wise words along with many other provocative phrases such as "clear speaking is generally obsolete thinking", and "the problem with full statement is ... it leaves no room for participation". But the video mentions "the wisest words I know"? Last night at 4am I was wrestling with this. In the morning I asked another person "What are the wisest words you know?", and received a quick answer from the surface of their thinking, as one might expect. What are the wisest words? Are there wisest words? There are of course wise words for a situation, but what are the top-most, best possible, all time greatest of wise words? That's like trying to ask what is wisdom's gravity; what words lie at the centre of wisdom's pervasive, all impacting, inescapable influence. Here are some examples of wisdom from my two most favourite authors. They live(d) a century apart, one was a firm Christian, the other is a serious atheist, yet each reflects the other and together they reflect ... truth?
I love such words because they touch a truth I know deep inside but have never been able to express. I think wise words are simply this, no more, no less: words that give a voice and life to what we know on the deepest levels to be true but have never known how to express. Of course they're not always relevant! What are the wisest words I know? What words tell me a truth I've not been able to voice? What words, like gravity, hold everything else together? "Love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, for that is the source of all Joy. Love my neighbour as myself, for that is the truck to transport my joy." No joy? Garbage truck! No truck? Useless joy! No joy, no truck? I'm a fly beholding the fly paper, and I will soon become what I behold. That's wise. (I think) Things trigger me. The Cornwall Alliance have triggered me ... perhaps that's what they wanted? They claim Christ, I know that I know Christ, and I am offended by their rhetoric to the point of anger. We all have our thresholds, and when we're pushed too far we react. This was my reaction: Anger. Is it Godly? I'll give details a bit further on, but the question I first want to pose is, when is anger ok? Anger is a dangerous emotion but not in itself ungodly. My triggered reaction could also be wrong because it could be me who is deluded ... I accept that possibility (and re-examine my thinking all the time). For, as with all emotions, the understanding of the context and getting the facts is important. Now, I am generally ambivalent about people who distort facts for their own agendas; we're so surrounded by factual abuse all the time (for example, the pervasive advertising and political rhetoric) that we've become largely numbed to the almost-lie and the outright lie. But when someone denies a deluge of clear and robust evidence, and then also invokes the authority of Christ to support their delusion, and (ab)uses the suffering of people as an emotive leverage for their distortions -- that's when my threshold is really crossed and I get angry. I recognize that some may be doing this out of a genuine belief in their non-truth, and in such circumstances I get merely irritated and can accept that they are not deliberately setting out to deceive. Then I have to transform my anger at the situation into compassion for the person -- all the while being very careful to examine myself that I am not in turn being arrogant, self-righteous and Pharisaical. So I have this recent problem; I've encountered a persistent and actively promoted delusion from named Christians who are using the suffering of the poor to invoke additional emotive support for their position. I don't know if they genuinely believe their own falsehood -- it's possible -- but I still feel angry. What is this about? It's about a Christian organization (at least in name) saying that multi-generational suffering caused by climate change is a lie, that there is no problem, and then actively calling on people to oppose any action to address climate change in the name of protecting the poor! It's that last step that pushes me over the limit; believe your delusion if you want, but for heavens sake don't abuse the real suffering of the poor for your agenda, when in fact all you're doing is heaping on generations of increased suffering! (Deep breath). For the record, I am a Christian, (and not just culturally-Christian ... I know Jesus), I live in one of those countries filled with the poor, and I know the facts of climate change. How am I supposed to respond? The Cornwall Alliance describe themselves as "a coalition of theologians, pastors, ministry leaders, scientists, economists, policy experts, and committed laymen, the Cornwall Alliance is an evangelical voice promoting environmental stewardship and economic development built on Biblical principles." Their website is filled with great evangelical sounding language, their statement of faith could be taken from many a mainline church, and they even have the ubiquitous "Donate" button. It almost makes one want to join. But scratch the surface and you find they are firmly in the climate change denial camp - the 3% of the misled (as opposed to the 97% of scientists - hover and click). I don't know how anyone who does due diligence on the facts can possibly come to their conclusion. The kicker is in their latest "Landmark Document" which says “Protect the Poor: Ten Reasons to Oppose Harmful Climate Change Policies”. This is reprehensible. To be clear, this is what they want: to actively promote inaction or even resistance to responding to the largest long term global threat facing the world -- that which has the most vulnerable on the front line of impacts. And they do this in the name of Christ. Why are Christians so silent and unthinking on this issue? Why have we allowed Christ to be leveraged in creating an irrational polarization among the global minority population of one country who suffer under the delusion of self-importance simply because of the power their internal actions have on the rest of the world? Is this the global dumbing down in an technology-assisted internet age? What should be my response? Our response? What is the Christian response? Anger against the abuse of the weak and vulnerable seems to me to be Godly. A bit of nonsense? I'm surrounded by aliens, and worryingly I seem to be recognizing them more clearly than ever. But first, about my own world. It is a busy place, full of the teeming and tussling crowds of me. The conversations never stop – often being arguments between me and myself. Then I might come along and try to mediate, or perhaps I'll side with me or maybe with myself as I sees fit. Emotions can be intense, battles quickly break out to interrupt periods of shared sweet pleasure, stillness, awe, and wonder when I, me and myself revel in our universe. The government is mostly benevolent, although it can be fickle and inconsistent. Reason rules - mostly. There are frequent skirmishes with rebellious tribes of desire that sometimes result in all-out war. Reason usually wins. Never is there an idle moment – even when bored it is only a matter of moments before I start telling me a story, or together we start wrestling over a puzzle. There are seasons when the orbit of my world brings storms that sweep across the landscape leaving worry and fear in their wake. Their ugliness will sometimes swamp all other activities, but emotions are simple creatures that tire under the weight of gravity – they cannot sustain their energetic behaviour and eventually subside into a smooth lake of acceptance. Not so Reason, which seems to be a perpetual motion machine with infinite energy, even during sleep. My world also has giant mountain peaks that, with effort, can be scaled. When we take these hikes and reach the top we stand in fresh sunlight gazing at views never seen before. Cool valleys are plenty, and these are places to reflect on the vistas we seen. There are also the deep caverns wherein lurk the monsters. My world is a busy place. Sometimes we have visitors – if I am inclined to let them in. Some come once, maybe twice, nervous and unsure at what they'll find. My memory of them is a nice place, so I keep saying "visit again soon". A special few come to enjoy their encounters, and together we make new places of memory. I, me and myself are a stable population, and together we travel through this strange universe. Now the aliens. For example, the other day I was riding my bike and I saw what was definitely an alien. There was this woman jogging along the pavement and I was conscious that hiding inside her head was an alien world, populated by the aliens her and she. I could not tell what sort of world it was; peaceful perhaps? Maybe desire or maybe reason held the reigns of government? Perhaps it was a world of anarchy? I wondered what the conversations were like, or could it be a world of uncertain existence with fragmented and incomplete dialogues. Or even a world of apathy drifting in the currents of space and spun onto new trajectories through encounters with the gravity field of others? Could my world and hers communicate? Among all the worlds I have come across there are some where communication is nearly impossible. On occasion we would barely get beyond sign language before we drifted apart. Yet other worlds seem to have evolved cultures compatible to my own, and communication comes readily once we understood each other's mode of government and the tribal battles each deals with. Many years ago me, myself and I entered into a partnership with a fourth party; he was a skilled translator and navigator who let me remain overall captain while keeping myself on as chief engineer, and I was also allowed to be second in command. But it soon became clear that our triumvirate was perennially trouble-bound unless we listened to his course corrections. Likewise, when we encountered other alien worlds it was a lesson soon learned that it was best to leave the translation up to to him. Its amazing how quickly you can get into difficulty with cross-cultural communication, unless you have someone knowledgeable by your side. Lyrics are here: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/katieherzig/humantoo.html
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Why?
Probably the best therapy is to express yourself. Why do you think psychiatrists make you lie on the couch and talk, while all they do is murmur "hmmm", "uhuh", or "go on"? Archives
May 2017
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