A Thirst for the Incarnate

Last week, a lovely article entitled "18 Things Everyone Should Start Making Time For Again" was making the rounds amongst some friends of mine. I read it, thought it was perfect (minus one subtle suggestion that there might be a time and a place for drunkenness - but we will overlook that one minor flaw in a sea of perfection), and therefore shared it on my own Facebook wall.

As a side note (sorry, we're taking a detour already!), can I just say that, not feeling comfortable with using both "perfect" and "perfection" in that last sentence, I Googled the definition of "perfection" and found this?

a person or thing perceived as the embodiment of perfection.

"I am told that she is perfection itself"

synonyms:

the ideal, a paragon, the ne plus ultra, a nonpareil, the crème de la crème, the last word, the ultimate, the best; informalone in a million, the tops, da bomb; dated,the bee's knees, the cat's meow/pajamas/whiskers "for him, she was still perfection"

Huh-larious, no? Next time I shall use "crème de la crème" or "da bomb." By the way... am I the only one who thinks that Google needs to chill with the special days of celebration? I miss the days of the basic Google, in all its blue, red, yellow and green-lettered glory. These days, it's as if we have mandated celebrations, practically daily, of the birthday of every obscure famous person and the anniversary of their obscure, albeit apparently important to their field, work! (I realize that "obscure famous" is sort of an oxymoron, but just go with it. Life is a paradox.) It used to be special to see a nifty little animated Google hompage, decorated for the day's event; now it's simply normal and confusing. Bring back the magic, Google! Celebrate real holidays! Or at least, include some saints! (Sorry about all this... I have had a beef with Google ever since they changed the definition of the word "literally" to mean, literally, "not literally." Check it out here. But despite my pent-up personal issues with the world's most famous search engine, I still probably use it 5,682 times a day. Ah well.)

Back to the wonderful article about eighteen lovely things! After I shared it, I was struck by how several others were sharing it and liking it, and seemingly struck by it as well. And they weren't all Franciscan girls in love with Jane Austen and accustomed to regular coffee dates with household sisters, either. I'm used to talking about such things with that sort of crowd; I identify with handwritten letters, good conversation and cookie-baking. That's kinda my scene, you know? My friends own tea-sets. But this article didn't only pique the interest of those particular friends!

(Update: Google has slightly redeemed itself. The sample sentence for the word "struck," when I was looking for a synonym, is "Lucy was struck by the ethereal beauty of the scene." Very nice, Google dictionary people. You get one point back.)

What is so striking to me is that it's nearly universally acknowledged that we are losing a sense of presence, culture, and humanity. How often do you have a conversation with someone about everyone always being on their phone, over-sharing their personal business on Facebook, constantly taking a picture for Instagram instead of actually enjoying the beauty before our very eyes? At least in my life, the topic comes up all the time! No one gasps when you bring up the thought that we spend too much time online, or that we all feel so super crazy busy and wish we didn't. More or less, everyone agrees!

And everyone continues to thirst.

For presence. For culture. For beauty. For real, incarnate humanity, in all its tangible goodness.

We are all thirsting for reality.

A few weeks ago, I was going through a very stressful, busy period; so was a dear friend of mine. We had both been so on edge, and not particularly present to each other, when something dawned on me. "I don't think God wants us to live this way," I suddenly thought. "I think Jesus wants more for us." And doesn't he? Didn't he make us to be genuinely free, truly human, full of beauty and grace? Ready at all times to love, to really see the other person in front of us.

What does it say about our culture, that reading a real book, writing a real letter, listening to music instead of making it mere background music to our multi-tasking, making a true commitment, thinking before responding to others, and just taking time to be with people are all seen as unreachable ideals? Beautiful, of course; our grandparents once knew these arts in the past, but sigh, things that no one has time for anymore and that we can never truly recover. Sigh, sigh. Like those little wispy clouds that you wish you could float around in, but that it's probably not possible to reach and experience for yourself (does anyone else wish this, besides me? Also, if you take a hot air balloon ride, can you play in the clouds? Just curious). At any rate, we all seem to be wistfully longing for something past, something better than what we have now. Yes? Do you sense this, too?

So, here's the sitch, as I see it (Kim Possible reference, yes ma'am):

On one hand, we have gotten ourselves into quite a cultural predicament, up in hurrr (this phrase is another example of the degeneration of culture... ha, ha).

On the other hand, this is so extremely hopeful!!! Let me explain.

When we all have a common longing, that is an incredible opportunity! If everyone wants ice cream, for instance, it's a perfect time to bring out the banana splits! If we are all longing for presence, thought, art, and incarnate reality (aka Jesus Christ)... this is the perfect entry point into the human heart! People are actually receptive to this stuff!!

Ergo, I'm pretty excited.

Just like Surprise Party Sue... I'm so freakin' excited!!!

The great thing about all of these things is  that they are tangible, concrete, not out of our reach at all! We can sit down and write a letter to a friend; we can intentionally make time to listen to music, and just appreciate it; we can actually stand outside and look at the sky and marvel at its unique beauty for a while! We can all sit down and actually take time to really, genuinely pray.

I'm not even going to pretend to tackle the whole issue of technology, being overly busy, lack of real art and culture, etc., in our world today; it's way too big for my little brain. But I do know this: it's time! Let's go! If the people we know are thirsting for a reclaimed humanity, let's start making the decisions and commitments it takes to put beauty and presence back into our lives.

I heard a story on the radio yesterday about a restaurant owner who is doing his own small, super creative part! Check it out... he is offering his customers a 50% discount on their meals if they agree to one small thing: to turn off their phones during their dining experience! Isn't that incredible? In one restaurant, in one little corner of the world, this guy is making an effort to reclaim personal relationships, to get people back in touch with humanity. I think he is awesome!

So, in the spirit of all this incarnational awesomeness, I have one last thought. Advent is coming up... the season of preparing for Christ, the fullness of true humanity, the Incarnation Himself! What if, for Advent, we tried to be more present as well? For instance (and I can't take credit for this idea), what if we decided to write a letter each day of Advent? Or really, any of the 18 items on that list... or, make up your own list! Whatever floats your boat. But what if, while we are preparing to celebrate Jesus taking on humanity, we became more human, too?

What Are We: Titanium or Glass?*

So yesterday, I was listening to this:

And then a little while later, I was listening to this:

Then I started thinking.

Fact: Dwight memes always help to illustrate the point.

Personally, I am not titanium! I'm not bulletproof, I do have things to lose... so please, don't fire away!

I'm much, much more like glass. Not that I'm a wimp, or that I can't be tough when I need to be. But my heart is fragile; it may shatter. I'm human! While we're all made to have a beautiful strength of soul, filled with God's grace, we are also weak, frail and vulnerable at times. We need each other - and that is a good thing. Can you imagine how prideful and cold our world would be if we were all truly self-sufficient and unbreakable? We would become isolated, turned in on ourselves, wrapped up in own little worlds. And that would be the opposite of love.

Even though it seems kind of backwards, it actually takes a certain amount of strength to admit weakness. It requires courage to take an honest look at yourself! Who benefits when we pretend to be titanium? No one, really. When you say that you're so strong that no one can hurt you, that you don't need anyone or anything, it's denying reality. Who benefits when you deny reality? Certainly not you! It's like going swimming in a lake of alligators, pretending that you're made of steel. Do you really think you're going to win out?

(I think that so many of the problems in our culture, by the way, come about when we don't live our lives according to reality. Contrary to popular belief, we don't decide our own reality! When we turn a blind eye to the way the world really is - and the way our hearts are actually, truly made - we're not doing ourselves a favor. At least, that's how a lot of my own problems happen! But that's a topic for another day.)

Still, the whole "titanium" thing is a tempting prospect, right? If I can play it off like I'm invincible, like whatever you do won't hurt me, then I have the upper hand (supposedly). If I protect my heart from you, you can't hurt me (or so we tell ourselves).

But as the commonly quoted C.S. Lewis said in The Four Loves:

"There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

He goes on:

"I believe that the most lawless and inordinate loves are less contrary to God's will than a self-invited and self-protective lovelessness. It is like hiding the talent in a napkin and for much the same reason.... Christ did not teach and suffer that we might become, even in the natural loves, more careful of our own happiness."

And then:

"We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it."

When all is said and done, our model is a God who didn't protect His heart (or His mother's) from being pierced. We have a God who wept, who looked with compassion on others, who knew how to be vulnerable and truly to love:

And if our God didn't feel the need to be titanium, why should we?


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*I feel like there are a lot of caveats that need to be made with this topic. I'm not justifying that you stay in emotionally unhealthy relationships, that you be a doormat to abuse, etc. If you need to get out of a bad situation, or if you need healing from something in the past, don't be afraid to seek out help! Call up your local church - you can meet with a priest who can advise you further. They should also have a list of good Christian counselors in your area. If it's a situation that requires civil authorities (you or someone else you know is in danger), don't be afraid to call your local police station. We are not made to be titanium, so it's okay to stop pretending that you're fine, if you're not.