What the H*ll Do I Know? (Confession 5)

I have a friend going through a bit of a faith-crisis at the moment, and it really is one of those things that can make you feel completely impotent.  Not only is nearly impossible to know what to say or do, it is pretty much certain that anything you say or do will probably only make matters worse. So you're just there for them. Let them vent if they want to, or ramble, or whatever non/verbal processing they might tend toward. And maybe, if the situation calls for it, you share what you actually know.

But what do you actually know?

And what do I actually know? So, where do I get off telling anyone else what their faith should be?

But, do I just leave it there? Let a friend languish? I have a hard time swallowing that pill.  I think we should have a hard time with it.  And I think how we handle it is key--and I think the place where we really go wrong is where we start offering up loads of junk that we don't personally know, in favor of churchy things we think sound right.

I think we go through seasons where our faith gets stripped down, like a sports car left in the wrong part of town.  Maybe we parked ourselves in the wrong place, and it left us vulnerable. Maybe it was time for a tune up. I don't know why these things happen really, but I have noticed a pattern in my own life, and the lives of people close to me.  We go through these seasons that get terribly uncomfortable, and we come out on the other side with a faith that is universally different.  Sometimes we even have to go through a little bit of Hell to do it.

I did.

I stood on the outside of a very clear boundary, looking in on God and his chosen people, and I was not one of them. I was not welcome, I was not included. I was not accepted. I was not chosen.  That is the Hell that I've known.

And what have I learned?  A lot more than I could ever put here.  And I've also learned that the first thing isn't to open my mouth and tell my hurting friend what they just have to know, so they can be fixed.  Maybe the best thing I can offer is an open ear and a shut mouth.  And my prayers. I'll do that too.

Some thoughts

Sitting in our morning lecture, and I have a whole train of thoughts competing with, and in response to, what Todd Johnson has to share this morning. 

I got to thinking about what kind of theatre I might want to do and I returned again to the idea of shows with questions, ideas and topics that stir people up into conversation and even to action.  Seeing theatre as a potential catalyst for the community, for the church. And then I heard the naysayer in my head.  “Bleeding heart”

Well, perhaps our hearts need to bleed a little now and then.  This world can be so hard and cold, and we bind up our hearts tightly just to survive, but what starts out as a necessity becomes a comfort zone that we retreat into, reticent to stray from.  A survival tool transforms into a defensive weapon that ultimately chokes us off, and slowly kills us with hardness.

It is the subtlest suicide. 

Questions from NYC ala Brehm Center

You may remember a few months ago I posted some questions for your consideration.  This week, as we went around the group to introduce ourselves to one another, I couldn't help but really stand on that leg for a moment.  I want to know what the questions are, specifically for people who are in my position, or positions similar to mine.  What are we dealing with?  Struggling with? What have we learned the hard way, and what were we graced to know without having to pay a costly price to learn?

The questions are beginning to take shape.  And I may post some of what I discover as comments to this post, but like I asked before:

What are your questions?
Be Specific.
Seriously.
What are your questions?

For your consideration

An interesting video I stumbled across this morning.  Perhaps even an interesting lead-in for the discussion we'll be having today in my Theology and Culture class about Body.

Something I don't usually share: a playlist for your consideration

****I made several attempts to get the playlist to embed into the post, but it wouldn't work, and I had to give up.  So if you're interested, take a listen here.*****

 It has become my habit, for various reasons, to create a playlist for myself when I am cast in a show.  The songs I select are usually ones I already own--although it isn't unheard of for me to purchase a song or two for my playlist--that address the character I am playing in some fashion or another.  The music I select may or may not be songs that the character herself would listen to.  I can often be found updating the playlist, adding or removing music as I find my way through the rehearsal process; but I rarely mess with it once the show has opened.

The playlist, as you may imagine, is for me and not something I openly share with friends or cast-mates; at least until the end of closing night. It's not that my playlists are super-private or personal. I don't think they're too revealing about who I am as a person or anything.  They're just something I do.  Compling the music I use backstage for my personal script time, and warm-up time, greenroom time, and whatever-time, has become a useful tool.

You may find my selections trite, and predictable.  I'm not sharing this sample playlist to impress you or anything.  I just was mulling over the thought that our culture is attached to popular music in a very interesting way--specifically since the modern occurrence of soundtracks that accompany one of our most popular means of storytelling: film.   The way we relate to music these days is a significant part of what drives me to create these playlists for myself.  Perhaps one song helps me access a mood that my character shares.  Perhaps this song deals with the play's subtext (or actual plot).  Whatever it is, it is an behavior that we all engage in; some more deliberately than others.  I simply put it to use for the plays that I act in--and I'm certainly not the first actor to do this. 

I am excited to share that I have been cast in the upcoming production of the newly formed Fuller Company, in two of the one-act plays that will be offered.  I thought it may be interesting to do something that I've never done before: make my playlist public before a show, should anyone happen to be interested. So, you will find part of the playlist I have compiled--as it stands tonight--for one of those two shows, below.

If you happen to be in the Los Angeles area on March 5th and 6th, we will be performing in Fuller Theological Seminary's Travis auditorium.

I only ask one thing of you:  This playlist is provided for your enjoyment, and perhaps some masochistic need to expose myself to criticism.   This playlist is not intended to be representative of the plays themselves, are not the approved soundtrack of a director, nor should be considered in any way a teaser for what you should expect of the performance.  They are simply the songs I'm listening to while I do my script work, and may be the ones I listen to at some point before I go on stage.  So my request is this:  enjoy the music for now; and forget about it when you come see the show.

The Paradox of the Mourning Christian

Tomorrow, the Fuller community will gather together to mourn. Over the Christmas break Ruth Vuong,  Dean of Students, suddenly passed away. 

There are many people on campus who knew Dean Vuong personally, and many who did not. Personally, I only had the privilege of meeting her on a couple of occasions.  Yet even to someone who did not really know her personally, her loss is nearly tangible on campus, as the community collectively mourns.  I do not need to have been in personal relationship with her to know how this feels.  We all have experienced loss, haven't we?


Loss and mourning are strange creatures, especially for Christians. At times, it seems wrong to be sad, to mourn, to feel the pain of loss over another Christian.  After all, no matter the specifics of our theology of Heaven, we all basically understand that death isn't the end, right? Don't we know, somehow, that if she goes to heaven, and we go to heaven then that means we'll be together again? Isn't that what we believe? And if it is, then why are we sad?  Afterall, haven't we all heard the saying, "it's not good bye, it's see you later"? So why do we still mourn?  Does it betray us, showing what little faith we actually have? Or is it something else?

This gets me to thinking about Lazarus; well more specifically about Jesus and Lazarus. Jesus stood at the tomb, knew what he was about to do, and how did he respond? He wept. Jesus wept knowing he was about to restore Lazarus. 

I don't think our mourning betrays our faith. We have lost years of opportunity for relationship with Ruth Vuong. Opportunities to create memories, to benefit from her wisdom, to have shared experiences, to get to know her.  It is our loss, and it is right to acknowlege it. We are created for relationship and community, and a measure of it is taken from us when someone dies.  Jesus knew this, and felt the very real pain of that loss before he restored Lazarus.

There is the paradox of the mourning Christian.  We weep over a temporary loss, that in our finite understanding feels so eternal.  But this is, in a sense, good.  If we can mourn, despite our understanding of the afterlife, it reveals the value we have for relationship.  And there, the God of relationship can and does minister to us.

An up and coming ministry you should know about

I returned yesterday afternoon from a beautiful retreat center nestled in the lovely village of Montecito. I found out about the retreat from the professor of one of my courses at Fuller, and signed up for various reasons, not knowing what to really expect. To my delight, however, the lovely leader, Kristen, came into our class the day before the retreat to briefly speak. She was a total kick in the pants, even a kindred spirit. It was for this and several other reasons that I was embarrassed and shocked when one of my peers in the class was so condescending to her. Here was an intelligent, articulate and studied woman trying to make a point, and when she paused to gather her thoughts, he raised his hand and offered "can I finish your thought?" and proceeded to tell her in essence, that she should have children because they are "healing" (see her blog where she recounts the incident with more detail). There are enough things wrong with what went down in that moment that I could rant out a whole other post that would probably not glorify God nor do anyone any good. So I'll get back to my point.

Like I said, I wasn't sure what exactly to expect at a retreat focusing on the issues involved in women's sexuality and what we could really address in less than 48 hours together. I have been part of two or three Bible studies that attempted to address this topic, and often it took weeks before participants were willing to be honest about their self image, the things that had hurt them, or past experiences. I was surprised at the speed at which the leaders took our topic to the heart of the matter, rapidly creating an atmosphere of trust and even blunt honesty that I wish could happen just as quickly and gently at all women's retreats. I was blown away at the number of women I could think of that I wished could have been there to participate. NOT because I could think of a list of women who were troubled, or needed fixing, but simply women who'd been hurt, or neglected, or believed a cruel word said to them. Women who still experience guilt or shame over some aspect of their body, appearance or femininity.

This retreat wasn't a quick fix. In fact, I left holding onto permission from Christ that I am not some broken woman who needs to be sent off to be fixed--as if there is a one-stop-shop Jiffylube womanhood mechanic that can wipe my memory, lipo my belly, and do my hair and makeup in an afternoon. Sure, there's some tender spots that Jesus and I can work on. Some grace I need to accept. This is something I think so many women need to recognize about themselves.

So, without further ado, I direct you to Kristen's ministry: A Beautiful Mess. Please visit her site, wander around, read her fabulous blog, get your mind spinning.

Are you broken?

Because, beloved, we are born into a broken world. And it will not let us pass through without being broken along the way.

So we are left with the decision to take up and bear the cross we are offered, or to let it fall on us and pin us down. We can bear it's weight; wrap our arms around it and embrace what has been designed by the world to kill us. Funny how the very thing God will work redemption through feels like the only thing we don't think we can survive. Well, that might be the point. Some part of us--the awful, hurtful, demon- in-training inside of us--isn't supposed to survive.

So, my dear, have you been broken? Does it hurt like hell? Are you going to hold onto it, stroke it and love it; find your identity in it as it consumes you? Or are you going to let Him heal you? Cause here's something else to chew on: our cross isn't our final destination. Our place of brokenness isn't our final destination. It wasn't His either. He promised to finish what he started.