Sunday, January 22, 2017

Introspection: Something I Lost

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.


Something I Lost

When Jesus turned and saw them following, he asked, "What are you looking for?"

John 1:38a (CEB)


In the middle of the night
I go walking in my sleep
From the mountains of faith
To a river so deep
I must be looking for something
Something sacred I lost
But the river is wide
And it's too hard to cross

From "The River of Dreams" by Billy Joel


Throughout the Gospel story, many people approached Jesus with questions.  Some wanted to test Him to see if He would give the answers they thought He should give.  Some were earnestly seeking knowledge.  Some wanted Jesus to settle disputes for them.  Even now, when we turn to Jesus through the reading of the Gospels, we are often looking for answers.  That said, I am fascinated by those rare occasions when Jesus is the one who poses the question.

One day, the prophet John was speaking with two of his students.  When he saw Jesus walk by, he said to them, "Look, here is the Lamb of God!"  The two students started following Jesus at a distance.  Perhaps they were too nervous to approach Him directly.1

When Jesus turned around and saw His two stalkers, He asked them, "What are you looking for?"

They asked Him, "Rabbi, where are you staying?"

Jesus replied, "Come and see."2

The question the two students asked Jesus seems like a rather strange response to such a deep existential question.  At first glance, I wondered if maybe they didn't really know what else to say at the moment.  Personally, I would like to think that, if the Son of God actually lent me His ear and asked me such a question, I would come up with a better response than, "Uhhh...  Where are You staying?"  Scholar William Barclay suggests that the two asked Jesus where He was staying because they wanted more than a brief conversation with Him.3  I think that maybe, like most of us, they wanted their lives to mean something.  Whatever the Lamb of God was there to do, they wanted to be a part of it.

What am I looking for? is, I think, a question we all need to ask ourselves from time to time.

As for me, right now I think I'm looking for something I lost.



Back in 2010, I felt a stirring in my soul.  In the previous year, I was given a way out of a job that brought me a great deal of shame and was led to a job in which I could take pride.  I had started teaching Sunday school and preaching on occasion at my home church, and I had taken up writing.  In the latter part of the year, I left behind a ministry I had outgrown and was led to a new community.  At that time, there was movement in my life.  At that time, I believed that I was actually put on this planet for a purpose and that I just might be heading toward that purpose.

At some point, the train started moving too fast, and then it derailed.  I went through a painful season marked by failure and guilt.  Eventually, I started running away from pain.  Over time, I started feeling a sense of discontent with my life.

Sometimes I feel frustrated that I'm not where I think I ought to be in life and that the things I want in life remain out of reach.  Sometimes I feel anxious about the things in my life that are not as I think they should be, some of which I cannot control.  Sometimes I feel like I'm just spinning my wheels, doing the same things week in and week out.  Sometimes I just feel numb.  What I do not feel nowadays is the stirring I once felt.

I think that lately I've been doing things to try to make myself feel the way I felt seven years ago.  For example, I started reading a book I was reading back then, and I've started listening to a band I discovered at that time.4

By the end of last year, I had reached the conclusion that my perceived stagnation in life is caused, at least in part, by the fact that I've become pain averse.  A few days ago, I decided to change direction, and I ran head-first into my pain.  I sat down and compiled a list of things that have caused me pain over the last six years, so that I could confront what I have been trying to avoid.  This exercise was not nearly as painful as I expected it to be.  I actually found it cathartic: I felt like I was writing more of a confession than a list of grievances.

As I read over the list I compiled, I came to see that I have not been running from pain in general but rather from one particular kind of pain, the pain of feeling inadequate.  I've been running away from anything that makes me feel like I am not enough - not strong enough, not brave enough, not attractive enough, not talented enough, not accomplished enough, not caring enough, not loving enough, not Christian enough, not good enough.

Years ago, I wrote about the voices in my head.  I am referring, of course, to the ever-present, vicious, tyrannical inner-critic that perfectionistic types know all too well.  Sigmund Freud referred to it as the superego.  Such voices never miss an opportunity to tell those of us who have ears to hear that we're not enough.

If you follow me on Twitter, then you know that my handle is @BrokenAndShiny.  This name was inspired by the book Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen.  In one chapter, Nouwen reminisces about seeing Mass, a musical by Leonard Bernstein.  At one point in this production, a priest breaks a glass chalice, and, upon examining the pieces, he says, "I never realized that broken glass could shine so brightly."5  I'm ever aware of my brokenness, but I want to shine brightly in the midst of it.


This is the point at which I'm supposed to wrap everything up with a nice, pretty bow on top.  I'm still processing all of this and figuring out what steps I need to take next.  If you, the reader, happen to be wrestling with some of the same stuff, I would encourage you not let the critics grind you down, including the critics that happen to live in your head.  If we run away from everything we think might make us feel that we are not enough, we will miss out on all opportunities to discover that we actually are enough.  Also, I would encourage you to remember a word of comfort St. Paul once heard from God: "My grace is enough for you, because power is made perfect in weakness."6


Notes:
  1. William Barclay.  The New Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of John, Volume One.  2001, Saint Andrew Press.  p. 100
  2. John 1:35-39 (NRSV)
  3. Barclay, p. 102
  4. In case you're wondering, the book is Soul Cravings by Erwin McManus, and the band is M83.
  5. Henri J.M. Nouwen.  Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World.  2002, The Crossroad Publishing Company. p. 102
  6. 2 Corinthians 12:9 (CEB)
The photograph of the broken glass was taken by Jef Poskanzer and is used under the under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.

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