Embrace It or Fight It

Last night, at the Founders' Day Ball, I got a chance to chat up the University President and his wife (always a good idea, as far as I can tell). We discussed a lot of things, but we talked at length about the cyclical nature of higher education. There are times that we just know are going to be killer. Others are traditionally slow. And in my area of higher education, I am certainly no exception.

And Jeff gave me a bit of wisdom that has probably come from ten or so years of rough-edged experience. He said, I suppose you either can embrace it, or spend all your time fighting it. And it's so true. We know that there are going to be extremely busy and stressful times that will require us to stretch just about beyond our means, to the very thinnest we can be pulled. And we can be sure that the slow times will follow full with rest and relaxation. If these things are so certain, then why do we find ourselves whining and complaining when we are in the state of thin? And how can we take for granted the ease of the off-times?

I can try my best to push deadlines back earlier or move projects around on the calendar all I want, but the fact of the matter is the hard, full, busy times are still going to exist, and the slow, restful times will indeed follow. 

I really feel that in the last two years, I have embraced the pattern, although not perfectly by any means. But weeks like list last one (Spring Fling Week) become easier when you can look ahead and see what lies ahead (rest). Although weary, I look ahead with hope...

Strangely, this becomes a metaphor for much more than just my work life. Matt. 11:28 says Come to me all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. The Message paraphrases it this way in verses 28-30:

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.

So, life really, is of the same cyclical nature.There are times that are going to be hard. We will be weary. We will get worn out. But we know - we know for sure - that there will be rest in Jesus. We can find some rest now in the cycle of living on earth, but there is something much greater, worth getting through the rough and busy that all becomes worth it when we get to the rest. 

Who knew I could get all of that from a conversation with the president at a dance on a Saturday night?

"Doing Church"

Throughout the last semester or so, I've been participating in the gospel choir on campus, an experience that undoubtedly deserves its own post. But there's one thing that I haven't quite figured out how to get past. There's an idea in gospel choir culture called "doing church". A revved up song begins and you can hear someone in the choir say, We're going to show you how to do church today! The enthusiasm is great, but the theology is all wrong.

You see, God doesn't call us to "do church". He calls us to be the church. "Doing church" indicates that it can be something that is started and stopped, picked up and dropped off; it's the idea that church is an action to be done rather than something to be a part of like a finger is a part of a body.

And frankly, I feel like this idea is perpetuated outside of the "church" experience as well. I see students all the time that come to gospel choir rehearsals, pray aloud while holding hands (and twice a rehearsal, mind you), then walk out the doors and immediately say a nasty word to someone, remove one too many articles of clothing, curse like sailors, or cop an attitude. And I suppose, if your idea of church involves the idea of "doing church" then after church has been "done", it can be turned off or left in that room, and life can resume as if nothing ever happened. For those that "do church", it seems that God can only live where church is "done".

But, oh, how visibly He does live there, where church is "done". More than once in any given rehearsal, I can hear someone say, Whew...I feel the Spirit, or, The Spirit is movin' here today, or something to that affect. Peoples' bodies move, their voices escalate, songs grow ever longer...and longer...and longer. Now, please don't misunderstand me here. I do believe that the Spirit can move a person (to dance, to sing, to cry, to whatever...), and I believe that the Spirit can move someone through music. I have been moved by music more times than I can count. But I find it a bit too ironic that the Spirit doesn't move these same people outside of rehearsals or performances in any such visible ways. Does the Spirit only act in a certain way at a certain time?

The picture of church that the Bible paints is drastically different than this idea. 1 Corinthians 12 clearly defines the church like a physical body, and each person having their own gifts like unique body parts. We're interwoven together into a community that is all the time. You can't decide when to "do body". That concept makes absolutely no sense. That's how much sense this whole "doing church" thing makes to me. On the days you decide not to "do body" will you not eat, not sleep, not breathe? Will your heart not beat? See? It just doesn't compute. 

When I first joined the gospel choir, I thought that maybe "doing church" was just cultural, but I've seen it unfold as much more than just a saying that tags along with a exuberant song. And the longer I am in the group, the more it bothers me. These students really believe it's okay to just "do church" at church and not anywhere else. We joke a lot about how the gospel choir needs extra prayer because many times we're not prepared for the performances that we do, but the fact of the matter is that the gospel choir needs prayers that go way beyond the performances...and I'm not sure they'll ever know just how much I pray for them.

There is a Light

As an assignment for the class I'm teaching this semester, I asked each of my students to write a personal belief statement - a credo if you will. In 200 or so words, write something that defines who you are, how you live, your very core.

And frankly, it's not an easy task. How do you boil down your entire life into so few words? I told them to be creative, to let flow whatever came out, but to stay true to themselves and their beliefs. I told them I would participate with them, and this was the result:

There is a Light
There is a Light. There is a Light. There’s a Light inside of me. 

I didn’t create it. It didn’t barge in. I don’t make it brighter. But I know there’s a Light. On my own, all I want is darkness, you see. My heart by itself is a dim, dark place. I am filled with sin and trouble and pain. Ah, but there is a Light.

There is a Light. His name is Jesus. He’s the Light inside of me.

He patiently knocked at the door of my heart. For years and for years, He stood and He knocked. He didn’t give up on my once worthless soul. He holds me, He washes me, He makes me so bright. He loves me as His child. Yes, He is the Light.

He is the Light. My beautiful Jesus. The Light inside of me.

And I can only love because He loved me first. And oh how I love Him. Oh how I love. And I can only shine as a mirror of Him. Chipped. Dirty. Imperfect. But a mirror ever still. A mirror for the Light.

Loving Jesus. Glorious Light. The Light inside of me.

I’ll only shine. I’ll only boast. I’ll only live for the Light. In a world full of hurt and darkness and shame. A world of wandering souls and the lost. I’ll shine on and boast on and live on and fight. Only for the Light.

There is a Light. There is a Light. There’s a Light inside of me.