Questions and Answers

I am a pretty impatient person. I also tend to get caught up in the moment pretty easily. These are not good qualities to be mixed. Whenever I am facing a difficult situation, or any situation really, that requires action, movement, decisions, I tend to want immediate answers, and whatever answer I think it is, I tend to throw myself so fully into it that sometimes I end up throwing myself directly into a wall and hitting my head. And it hurts. But I must admit, I do this because I like control. If I have answers and act on those answers, then I am in control. I am moving forward, doing something, I am not running the risk of turning into my worst fear- lazy, motionless, static. If I suddenly feel like I don’t have control over something, I become fearful and try to do everything in my power to put myself back in control- and sometimes this leads me to extremes. I am going to cut out all diet soda, stop drinking caffeine, I am not going to have any contact with so and so, I am going to make sure I exercise every day, journal every day, etc. Whatever the decision is, I don’t like things to have control over me and if I can fool myself into thinking that I actually have control over a situation by going to extreme measures, then I can happily maintain my safe illusion which makes me comfortable and secure. I need to work a little bit on balance, as I have realized that this tendency towards one extreme or another is like a jacked up see-saw that catapults you into the air only to leave you crashing down to the earth. You may feel like you are in control when you get on, but in the end it only leaves you bruised and limping.

I have realized recently that this tendency towards extremism, paired with impatience, also plays a part in my wanting answers for my life. I want answers and I want them now. Sometimes I envy Moses for his burning bush (sounds pretty extreme to me). If only God would speak that clearly and directly to me. As I have recently been journaling more here in Brazil, I have also been going back to re-read old journals from years past. It is amazing to me how years can go by and I find myself asking God the same basic questions in life. “What do you want me to do God? How do I know if this is the right thing? Is this where you are leading me? God show me where you want me to go. I am scared. Tell me what to do.” And the most frustrating part is that I find God’s answers to be the same: “Trust me. Keep moving. Put one foot in front of the other. Love others the best you can, wherever you are. Never forget I am with you, always. Don’t be afraid.” These are the answers that I receive and I am left thinking “Sorry God, you must have misunderstood my question. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. Let me repeat. I want answers. I want to know specifics. Tell me.”

This morning I was reminded of this as I prayed and was asking God for specific direction and answers about something. I got frustrated as I received the same answers as above and then I was reminded of the story of Elijah. After he gets word that Jezebel wants to kill him, he flees for his life and heads into the wilderness. After one day he plops down and tells God, “that’s it. I am done. Take me now.” (A bit extreme? Maybe. But I can’t say I haven’t been there.) Elijah probably wanted answers. He probably wanted to know what to do, where to go and hide so that Jezebel wouldn’t find him. He probably would have appreciated some answers right about then, but instead he falls asleep (one of my own preferred mechanisms of dealing with things) and an angel wakes him up and says, “Get up and eat. For the journey is too much for you.” After he ate and drank, he continued on his journey for 40 days. Sometimes I feel like this is God’s response to my prayers. I ask a question looking for a specific answer and God’s response is, “Go to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” I need to learn to be okay with these responses from God, because while they may seem like God is dodging the question, I think it cuts to the very heart of what it means to follow Jesus. In the midst of not having answers, get up. Keep moving. Keep following God. Keep enjoying the wild and crazy dance that is life. Keep journeying. Keep asking. Keep searching but don’t let your searching stop you from moving. Keep laughing. Keep crying. Keep loving others where you are and don’t worry about where you will or won’t be tomorrow. Keep living in the present moment trusting that tomorrow will take care of itself. Keep living with faith. Trusting that God’s presence, made manifest through the presence of many other wayward travelers, is all that you really need to make the journey worth living. You don’t have to be extreme. You don’t have to have all the answers. Just keep moving. And eventually you will look back and realize that the question you wanted answered could only actually be answered through time, through living and experiencing life, making mistakes, trial and error, through trying again, and again, and again... So God help me to be patient in the mean time. Help me to experience the fullness of the hear and now and relinquish control over the future. Help me to see the gifts that are right in front of me and not focus on the path that is not too clearly marked in front of me. One day I will find myself living into the answers of the questions that I ask you today, but for now, I am content to just keep living, just keep breathing, experiencing the humbling beauty of your grace.

"I beg you… to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, some day far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answers.” Rainer Maria Rilke

Let's start eating!!

“Nobody liberates anybody. People find freedom in communion.”- Rubem Alves

When I first read this quotation, it stopped me dead me in my tracks. Rarely is it that you find a single sentence that can cut so deeply to the heart of your theology like this sentence does for me. What it means to be human, made in the image of God, what it means to participate in the work of the kingdom of God on earth, what it means to be in mission- all wrapped up in 8 words (in English that is). Freedom is found in each other, in community. We can’t liberate ourselves no matter how hard we try- that’s why we all are in need of grace. And we can’t liberate others, which is why traditional models of mission are so complicated and tricky. What would the history of the world look like today if when the Portuguese arrived in Brazil, instead of seeing a people they needed to “liberate” (or kill if they didn’t want to be liberated) and a land rich for exploitation, they saw a people with a rich history and tradition, a piece of God’s creation where God had already been present and at work since the beginning of time? What if they had seen their own liberation through the dark eyes of this new strange other looking back at them? Perhaps things would look a lot different in the world today. 

This isn’t to say I didn’t wish I could liberate myself (or others for that matter). When I see the pain of the world reflected in the eyes of people I love, when I see systemic injustices that fall down and crush human life and hope in fires in favelas that are coincidentally located in prime real estate property, when I see people unable to stop self destructive patterns that they themselves recognize. I wish I had the power to liberate them. I wish. I wish it were as easy for me to take off my own chains as well. The ones I find so easy to put on in the first place. But unfortunately, I can’t. Liberation doesn’t come easily. 

But there is good news to be found in Alves’ words: freedom in communion. What exactly could that look like? A few weeks ago we were having lunch at the home of one of our church members. As we set the table we realized that there were nine of us who would be eating and the table only fit six. My first thought was- fine. Some people can eat in the kitchen, or fix their plates and eat in the living room. But instead of dividing the table, we manipulated, squeezed, pushed, and reorganized so that everyone could have a place at the table. And the lunch that followed was a delight. If even one person had not been present, it wouldn’t have been the same. The conversation was full of joy and laughter and the food was abundant and plentiful. Perhaps there is something to be learned from making room at the table. Perhaps finding freedom in communion involves rearranging things in our lives to make room for others. Perhaps it means giving a voice to the voiceless, inviting someone to sit at your table that you don’t like or you disagree with. If we truly find freedom in communion, we have to be open to eat with all people. Jesus knew what he was doing when he specifically chose to dine with those at the margins of society. Perhaps we would be wise to follow his example.   

It seems to me interesting that in the Lord’s prayer, the line “thy kingdom come, thy will be done” is followed immediately by the line “give us this day our daily bread”. It seems then, that there is something about the kingdom of God, the will of God, that is intimately connected to sharing bread, sustenance, food, life. And I think it is also interesting that the words “me” and “my” occur nowhere in the prayer. This tells me that the kingdom of God is not about “me” being satisfied. It is about “us” having enough. God’s will is not complete until “we”- all of humanity- are fed, clothed, housed, and have access to abundant life. God’s will is not complete until people stop hoarding and exploiting resources for tomorrow out of greed and fear and start living for today. It will not happen until we take the risks to sit with each other, to look into the eyes of people who are different than us, and recognize our common humanity, recognize that our own freedom comes in living life for other people and giving up pieces of our lives so that all may have life. Freedom in communion. As Milton Schwantes said, “Eucharist is a means of economics. If we don’t eat bread that is shared bread, it will all be over.” *

*Milton Schwantes, Figuras e Coisas, 40.

Vamos comer!

"Ninguém liberta ninguém. As pessoas se libertam na comunhão. "- Rubem Alves

Quando eu li esta citação pela primeira vez, ela me marcou profundamente. É tão raro que você encontra uma frase que pode expressar tão profundamente o coração da sua teologia, como esta frase faz por mim. O que significa ser humano, feito à imagem de Deus, o que significa participar no trabalho do reino de Deus na terra, o que significa estar em missão...tudo embrulhado em 9 palavrinhas. Liberdade é encontrada n@ outr@, na comunidade, na comunhão. Nós não podemos libertar-nos, não importa o quanto tentemos, é por isso que tod@s nós precisamos de graça. E nós não podemos liberar @s outr@s, é por isso que os modelos tradicionais de missão são tão complicados e difíceis. Como seria o mundo de hoje, se quando os Portugueses chegaram ao Brasil, em vez de ver um povo que eles precisavam "libertar" (ou seja, matar se não quisesse ser libertado) e uma terra rica para o benefício deles mesmos, eles vissem um povo com uma rica história e tradição, um pedaço da criação de Deus, onde Deus já estava presente e trabalhando desde o início dos tempos? E se eles tivessem visto a sua própria libertação através dos olhos escuros deste povo alheia olhando para eles? Talvez as coisas seriam muito diferente no mundo de hoje.

Isso não quer dizer que eu não gostaria de poder me libertar (até os outros também). Quando eu vejo a dor do mundo refletido nos olhos das pessoas que eu amo, quando vejo injustiças sistêmicas que caem e esmagam a vida humana e esperança em incêndios nas favelas que são coincidentemente localizadas em áreas de interesse dos imobiliários, quando eu vejo pessoas incapazes de mudar hábitos auto-destrutivos, mesmo quando elas os reconheçam. Eu gostaria de ter o poder de libertá-l@s. Eu gostaria que fosse tão fácil para eu tirar as minhas próprias correntes também. As que eu achei tão fácil de colocar em mim. Mas, infelizmente, eu não posso. A libertação não vem facilmente.

Mas há uma boa notícia para ser encontrado nas palavras de Rubem: a liberdade em comunhão. Como seria isso? Algumas semanas atrás, estávamos almoçando na casa de uma mulher da nossa igreja. Quando nos estávamos colocando a mesa, percebemos que havia nove pessoas e a mesa só cabia seis. Meu primeiro pensamento foi, “tudo bem. Algumas pessoas podem comer na cozinha, ou levar os pratos e comer na sala. Mas, em vez de dividir a mesa, nós manipulamos, espremamos, empurramos, e reorganizamos para que tod@s pudessem ter um lugar à mesa. E o almoço que seguiu foi uma delícia! Se uma pessoa não estivesse presente, ele não teria sido o mesmo almoço. A conversa foi cheia de alegria e riso e a comida foi abundante e gostoso. Talvez haja alguma coisa a ser aprendido em abrindo espaço na mesa. Talvez encontrar a liberdade em comunhão envolva arrumando as coisas em nossas vidas para dar espaço para outr@s. Talvez isso signifique dar voz às que não tem voz, convidar as pessoas que você nem goste, nem concorde, para sentarem à sua mesa e conversar. Se as pessoas realmente se libertam em comunhão, temos que estar abert@s para comer com todas as pessoas. Jesus sabia o que estava fazendo quando ele escolheu jantar justamente com aqueles que viviam nas margens da sociedade. Talvez seria prudente seguir o seu exemplo.

Parece-me interessante que no Pai Nosso, a frase "Vem a nós o vosso reino, seja feita a vossa vontade" é seguido imediatamente pela frase "o pão nosso de cada dia nos daí hoje." Parece, então, que há alguma coisa sobre o reino de Deus, a vontade de Deus, que está profundamente ligado à partilha do pão, sustento, comida, vida. E eu acho que é interessante também que as palavras "eu" e "meu" nunca aparecem na oração. Isso me diz que o reino de Deus não tem nada a ver com "eu" sendo satisfeito. Trata-se de "nós" termos o suficiente. A vontade de Deus não será completo até nós - toda a humanidade- seja alimentad@s, vestid@s, abrigad@s e tenha acesso a uma vida abundante. Não será completo até pessoas parem de acumular recursos e guardar para amanhã (seja por cobiça ou por medo) e comecem a viver para hoje. Isso não vai acontecer até nos assumirmos os riscos de sentar com @ outr@, de olhar nos olhos das pessoas que são diferentes de nós, e reconhecer a nossa humanidade comum, reconhecer que a nossa própria liberdade vem através de viver a vida voltada às outras pessoas e compartilhando as nossas vidas, para que tod@s tenham vida. Liberdade em comunhão. Como Milton Schwantes disse, "Eucaristia é um modo da economia. Se não comemos o pão, assim na partilha, vai ser o fim." *

 * Milton Schwantes, Figuras e Coisas, 40.

Falling in Love...

I think I am in love. In fact, I know it. But being in love can be a confusing and complicated experience. It uncovers feelings deep inside you that you didn’t know were possible. It makes you laugh and it makes you cry (sometimes at the same time). It can frustrate you and enrage you to the deepest parts of your being, but you know it is only because you love so deeply that you would ever allow something or someone to touch those deep places in you that nothing else does. It awakens hopes and dreams and possibilities for a present and future freedom that both scare you and entice you, even though they seem crazy and don’t make sense. Giving into this love can change everything, in fact it usually does change everything. Love grabs hold of you and won’t let go until it has taken you to the highest mountain tops to dance and sing and feel with total assurance that this is who you were made to be. Love grabs hold of you and won’t let you go until you have felt the saudade and utter heartache and desolation of having your heart broken and divided, left in places and times that you know will never be the same again. 

Yes, I am in love and I expect that I have been for some time and have just been reminded of it in these past few days. But for those of you who want to see me come home in May, don’t worry. This love isn’t for a Brazilian. I think I am falling in love all over again with God.  I know. I know. It sounds cheesy. But trust me. This has nothing to do with being “married to the Lord” and giving up the joys and pleasures of a physical romance or declaring (since I can’t find a man to date) that “Jesus is my boyfriend”. When I say I am falling in love with God, I mean, that literally I am finding more and more ways of experiencing God in all of God’s fullness that make me fall in love and feel everything that I described above (the good, the bad and the ugly). I am learning to experience God in ways that I never did before. Growing up inside the church I thought that being a Christian was a question of being moral. Having a relationship with God meant dedicating yourself to being “holy” (whatever that actually means I think differs for every person and depends largely on what institution, or lack thereof, that you were raised in). I am learning now though that being “holy” for me is turning into something quite different that I imagined. It means letting myself be seduced, wooed, and transformed, by God. A God that is a profound mystery, larger than anything we can imagine, deeper than what we thought possible. A God that surprises me every day by showing up in yet one more place where I wouldn’t have expected. A God who can honestly infuriate me by knowing me so well and forcing me to face the deepest parts of myself that I don’t want to face. A God who makes beauty out of brokenness and tells me to look at life from the under side of power. A God that insists on throwing my plans out the window and surprising me. A God who answers every question with another question, insisting on keeping the conversation going.

I am falling in love with a God who delights in the beauty of creation and therefore delights in us. A God who is a composer of songs, finding beauty in that which we tend to cast aside or ignore, and daring us to dream dreams we never thought possible. I am falling in love with a God who loves to dance, and sing, and live life abundantly. A God who invites me to do all these things too. I am falling in love with a God that is deeper and more complex than anything I have ever known. Every conversation and experience probes new depths that I hadn’t yet considered, new questions that I had never thought to ask. Yes, I am falling in love with a God that is anything but rigid and strict and boring. I am falling in love with a God that daily relives a certain “velha infância”, loves to be a kid again, and calls us to be the same. A God that calls us to trust and walk with faith. I am falling in love with a God that is passionate about justice and mercy, about systems and individuals. Every time I think I have figured out who this God is, I am surprised by yet another side or facet that I have yet to see and consider. I am falling in love with a God who Rubem Alves reminds us is not a “bird imprisoned in a cage of reason,” but “the Great Mystery, the enchanted bird that flies and invites us to join her in the unknown lands where her flight takes her.” * As such, I am learning to leave my cages of reason and embrace the exhilarating passion of flying, as scary as that feels at times when my feet leave the ground.

Yes I am in love. And as such I know I am in it for the long run. There might be days that I want to give up, run away, long for the comforts of living life for myself and myself alone, but soon enough, something grabs a hold of me again- the beauty of giving oneself totally and completely to something that is bigger than yourself and out of your control. Something that is deeper and stronger and more beautiful than your wildest dream. Something that leaves you completely outside of yourself and at the same time defines you to the very core of your being. Something that you know without which life wouldn’t have much meaning at all. 

*“Existe sempre a tentação de prender o Pássaro Encantado, o Grande Mistério, em gaiolas de palavras. O poeta é aquele que ama o Pássaro em voo. O poeta voa com ele e vê as terras desconhecidas a que o seu voo leva. Por isso não há nada mais terrível para um poeta que ver um Pássaro engaiolada”... Rubem Alves