I think I kind of went to the dark side yesterday. Most people prefer the lighter stories, I think. I was not happy about a certain series of events over the past few days. This is how I fight back: with words. I sometimes think people look at other people and just decide about them, with a single glance and then dismiss them. I know I have done it...and I work very hard to stop doing it.
You don't know me at all! That is usually the cry that comes from a teenager during a 'correction' or 'discipline.' You don't know me at all! And often that is true. But we do have patterns to our behaviors. We have patterns as individuals and as a collective group. In fact, we love those patterns so much, we give each other dozens of multiple choice tests to determine what our particular "pattern" might be.
In seminary, I had to take an endless array of multiple choice tests to see if I was cut out for ministry. The tests often made me laugh.
Statement: "I enjoy funerals." 5-very much, 1-not at all
What the hell does that mean? I giggle. I circle 3. Just to be safe.
At TAMU, I took those tests. I remember what it said I should be: #2 Lawyer, #3 Priest. Guess they weren't thinking about gender back then. And since I was not attending church, it seemed like a joke.
You don't know me at all.
Teaching school at the college, one of my jobs was to help at risk students pass the TASP test. I have never hated such a task more, but it was a paying job and I needed money to feed my son and myself. What a joke! And not a joke. I had to teach children how to work the system. I did not get to teach them how to think or reason, but I taught them how to pick one multiple choice answer over another.
It so disturbed me that I began reading Augustine, Thomas A Kempis, and a whole lot of Henri Nouwen. And so many others, perhaps not so famous. In the midst of hypocrisy, I found living water. And it was so good, I began to share it with my students.
I didn't want to teach them how to pass a test. They are human beings. Real living persons with souls. I did what I always did, what I was not supposed to do. I began to teach them to think. Especially about God.
You don't know me at all.
I gave them a task: Read Edwin Friedman's "The Bridge." Then come back to my office and tell me the story. No one ever told me the story back in the same way.
Some focused on the rope, some on the man walking, some on the man who jumped off the bridge. Some were furious with me for asking them to read it. Some couldn't wait for another story. Everyone saw themselves. And each time they told it back to me, I changed.
In the telling, I began to learn who they were, what was important to them, how they viewed the world, how they saw themselves. What lies they told, what truths they told.
It's all about encounter. It's all about connection. It's all about listening.
I think Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society spoke of Thoreau or was it...who wrote "O Captain my Captain!"? I got a copy of it from Donna Blevins, my roommate at Baylor one summer...ah, a potential rabbit trail derailed!
I sound my gigantic "yalp!" He told them, Carpe Diem. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Tomorrow you will be dust.
You don't know me at all.
Oh but we want so much to know and be known! And that is the true essence of life. Even those of us who don't read, want to be known.
A man said to the universe, "Sir, I exist!"
"That," replied the universe,"does not create in me a sense of obligation."
But God listens. And the God that lives in us listens.
I'm out of time.
He listens. Tell Him what you want Him to know. Then listen to what He tells you.
Receive it. Believe it. Do it.
Love, Cindy
No comments:
Post a Comment