Suffer to Succeed

April 13, 2016 at 11:58 pm

I was participating in Bible Study last Thursday night and we read a verse in Romans ( I am 77 percent sure, it has been a long week), and we landed on the topic of suffering. I listened to stories of struggling with classes and questioning your major and fears of financial problems and waisting time. I felt empathy listening to everyone speak about their struggles and really did pray that they found peace. I genuinely desired happiness and confidence to be instilled in these individuals and I was almost moved to tears listening to their struggles and their questioning of God and why ask Christians we have to struggle so much. However, I had nothing to share. By no means have I never experienced struggle. I’ve had a far share of financial problems, tried so hard in class and still fell short and questioned God when illness struck my family. But, at this moment and in the past years, maybe since the summer going into Junior year, I’ve always known that God would allow me to overcome my struggle. I tried to articulate this in bible study and explain that I’m very confident in my major, in myself and I have been blessed these past years in my life. Another participant responded, “just wait, it will hit you too”. The individual quickly understood the meaning of the words and tried to rephrase with, “use this time of blessing to will you through your struggles.” I understood what the person wanted to say, I appreciated the honesty, but I could not ignore a large question in my mind. Do Christians have to struggle?, is it possible for it to be all good and not have to have a dark time?

I would argue on the contrary. Call me an optimist, pollyanna, or naive to realities of life but I believe that with God it can be all good. Now my version of good is different than everyone else’s version. I’ve been “good” for a while now. I got into to an amazing college, I found two subjects that I really have a passion for (in the library right now) and I feel closer than ever to my family. Forgive me for the cliche but, Life is Good. Though I appreciate the individual that wanted to warn me of the pain they currently feel, I will take caution, but if I never dive into the realm of painful suffering, I will not be surprised.

By Devin Harvin | Posted in Devin | Comments (0)

Clarifying My Last Post

April 13, 2016 at 9:34 pm

Last week I wrote a post about being a first generation american and how that has affected me. I also talked about how people should not categorize others based off of what they look like, sound like, or where we are from.

Today I am going to elaborate more on the main points and ideas that I touched on. My last blogpost came off as being very nationalistic (which in some way was my intent). However, i failed to mention a key aspect to my side. And that is, people should be able to define themselves not the other way around.

I support people saying that they like to be described in a certain way. If someone is an American citizen but refers to be defined as something else, then I have no problem with that. The truly irritating part for me is when someone wants to be described as an American and is instead generalized into some other category.

Although I did have a really nationalistic post, I too like to describe myself as being Portuguese. I would never want to lose that part of my history and heritage. It angers me when someone neglects to respect the fact that I am not just some white kid. Yes that is the color of my skin, but that does not mean I am not Portuguese.

I sympathize with people in our culture today who are struggling with issues relative to mine. For those of African descent who are trying to stand up for both their rights and/or traditions. I sympathize with you. I know that I have far different experiences than you have, however, through my own experiences I have built a level of respect and understanding for the motives behind your movements. I sympathize with those people who are of mixed descent and are not truly accepted by both races. And I sympathise with anyone who feels as though the way they are described by others varies from how they describe themselves.

 

By Matthew Cron | Posted in Matthew | Comments (0)

This Too Shall Pass

April 10, 2016 at 4:36 pm

"Weeping may linger for the night,
    but joy comes with the morning."

Psalm 30, verse 5

One of the hymns that that was sung in this morning's service was hymn 383 from the United Methodist hymnal, "This is a Day of New Beginnings." As the congregation began singing the melody, I recalled two things. One was the verse from psalm 30 quoted above, which was also read over the course of the semester. The other was a memory from the last time I sang this hymn last semester. I remember starting to sing the first verse, and I choked when I read the verse's lyrics.

I read those lyrics at a time when I was undergoing a time of deep, chronic pain. I was still trying to figure out how to move forward with it. In high school, I once had a conversation with my English teacher about how to deal with this kind of pain. He told me, "This too shall pass." This message was phrased differently by the Trevor Project, an organization that was responding to a series of teenage suicides in the Midwest several years ago. Its message was, "It gets better."

These two phrases have very different meanings if you look at them closely. One simply states that things will change, while the other says that things will improve. I also heard these two phrases in starkly different contexts. Despite the difference in meaning, these two statements do have one thing in common: they emphasize the role of time and change in moving on.

Truthfully, I've always found the first statement to be more helpful. The idea that everything will change eventually and nothing lasts seems paradoxically more comforting to me than the idea that life gets better. Frankly, I don't think the latter is always helpful. There are periods of grief in mourning in our lives that must be acknowledged before they we can pass on from them. To simply say that it will get better seems to trivialize the anguish and sorrow of those moments. And sometimes, the wounds left behind on one's heart from these moments never fully heal. They leave behind scars that remain and perhaps will fade in time, but the scars can still be painful when we brush against them.

I think one of the most difficult parts in moving on from pain is acknowledging the pain itself. It can sometimes be easier to look to the future, to hope for a time when the pain will be less heavy and burdensome. But for someone who is in the middle of deep, heartfelt grief, telling them to look to the future doesn't always help them deal with the present moment as much. Grief and sorrow are very difficult emotions to overcome, and unlike the verse from Psalm 30, they rarely go away overnight. This is why there is some deep wisdom in what my English teacher told me many years ago. Sorrow and grief will always exist, but in time they, too, will change and become less burdensome. In time, we may be able to look back on them with newfound joy that somehow makes them have less on a hold in our lives. And although these emotions may never completely disappear, we at least can recognize that they too, will inevitably pass. I may not be able to say how and when, but I do believe that it will happen. And that, as infuriating and incomplete as it may be, is enough to help me move slowly forward.

By iquillen | Posted in Ian | Comments (2)

The Pleasure in Discomfort

April 7, 2016 at 12:39 am

I miss the music. I miss the drums and the piano and the bass. I miss the clapping and smiles, and the rhythms that helped me fall in love with God. I miss knowing every song and anticipating every change in beat. I miss, most of all, the feeling I had when poorly singing the songs I grew up on. Maybe the music is a microcosm for missing home and the place I went to every Sunday for 18 years. Seeing the same people and hugging the same children every sunday, anything different seems foreign. But I’ve learned that foreign isn’t bad. Foreign forces you to grow and test what has been instilled in you. What is foreign is tough and complicated, but it is worth the struggle period. In fact foreign is necessary. Without foreign, you remain in a bubble, incapable of escaping the world where everyone has the same opinion as you. I’ll be forever indebted to my church family and the man that they have helped me become. However, I would be doing them a disservice if I didn’t expose myself to what is considered foreign. If I didn’t grapple with Bhagvad Gita or understand the anti-semitism found in the book of John in particular, then I remain in a world that does not exist.

Perhaps I should have begun this by saying, I miss the comfort. The comfort made me feel good and safe. I felt that I was the best at my bubble: I knew bible trivia better than anyone else, I could recite scripture, and I genuinely loved God. I enjoyed going to church and I learned more and more about God every week, but I wasn’t being challenged. Instead I pull the blanket of a church over my head and ignored any outside opinions. I ignored variation, and different paths and focused solely on the ideas I knew best. I can no longer stay under the comfortable covers, I have to come out and at least look at the blankets of Buddhism and Hinduism and simply other people's way of thinking about Christ. I have to try to understand and climb off the shoulders of christianity and look at everyone on the same eye level.

By Devin Harvin | Posted in Devin | Comments (0)

A Hyper-sensitized Society

April 6, 2016 at 7:50 pm

Almost every Sunday at Marsh we have an interdenominational book study. A topic was brought up in class that I felt very strongly about: the way in which people separate themselves between “us” and “them.” For some reason humans always feel the need to categorize other humans into specific groups. These are groups based on sex, nationality, skin color, language, etc.

I am one of the people in the US melting pot who cannot fit into the groups that society has predetermined for me. My mother and grandparents are immigrants to this country; thus, making me a first generation American. I do not have a Portuguese accent, act differently, or any look differently than any other caucasian male walking the streets in the US. But, sometimes it is easier for me to associate myself with people who do talk with accents, act differently, and look differently. Even though I am white and am seemingly just a normal 18 year old, I have experienced racism first hand.

My grandparents speak with an accent (sometimes it is thicker than other times), and it is clear to most people that they had immigrated here. Sometimes we go out to lunch together and I will help my grandfather order his food because Portuguese is his primary language and it is easier for me to articulate what he wants. There have been numerous occasions where people have said talked in demeaning tones to my grandfather or have been rude because I order for him, or because he does not speak English as fast or fluidly as them. Keep in mind that my grandparents are caucasian and that most of the people that I am talking about are also caucasian.

My grandparents are incredibly strong individuals and usually do not take notice to these things or take them to heart when they happen. However, I feel indirectly insulted by the actions of others. My grandparents are not some sort of degenerate subhumans just because they speak with an accent. Just because they are slightly more olive toned than other caucasians does not mean that they are suddenly less intelligent.

Although situations like these infuriate me, I do not blame the individuals who have done this to my family. I blame society as a whole and the implementation of an “us” and “them” mindset. People have been hyper-sensitized to other people who are slightly different than they are. This causes them to alienate those people and put them into stigmatized groups.

I believe that this is one of the reasons that there are racial tensions in the world today. Even when people are trying to be inclusive and have non-racist tendencies, they still maintain a stigma about the person. By labeling someone anything (black, white, spanish, mexican, brazilian, etc.), you are putting these people into a different group than yourself. This means you are being inadvertently and unintentionally racist. Instead of a these people all being put into the same group (American), they are now all broken into uneven and biased groups.

That is one of the major issues I see with society. We are so quick to label someone who is different than us and being different than us that we forget that we are all human. We forget that we are all from the same country (US). We are all Americans, no matter what we sound like or look like.

My baseball coach said it best; we were playing a team that was much better than us and my teammates and I were getting intimidated. He said, “They are just like you. They put their pants on like you, brush their teeth like you, drink water like you, go to school like you. The only difference is the name on the shirt. You have no reason to think they are any better than you, and you have no reason to think you are any better than them. The only thing you need to do is focus on yourselves.”

We need to do the same thing in society. Just because people sound different than us and look different than us, it does not mean they are less American than us. It does not mean that they are not as good as us. Because after all, these people still have to go to work like us. Still have to take care of their families like us. And most importantly, still put their pants on just like us.

By Matthew Cron | Posted in Matthew | Comments (0)

Eating an Apple and Religious Experience

April 3, 2016 at 3:45 pm

I recently heard a rabbi give some advice during a sermon. Someone once asked him, "How can I have a religious experience?" His answer was as follows: Take an apple, and eat it with your entire body.

His answer was so simple that I had some difficulty wrapping my head around it. He stated this in the context of a sermon about the first commandment in the Torah. That commandment was, "Eat." When God created Adam and Eve, he commanded them to eat the fruit in any of the trees in the garden. Except, of course, for the fruit from one particular tree.

This commandment highlights the extreme significance food plays in our lives. No matter where you live, what cultures you belong to, or what you personally believe in, you must eat to be sustained and to survive. It is one of the basic necessities of life, so fundamental to our existence that most people devote three times a day to it (more or less, depending on the season of the year or who you talk to). Food also brings entire communities together, from a family eating dinner to a neighborhood celebrating a festival to a religious community across the globe, sharing in a meal on a regular basis.

The rabbi, though, wasn't talking about food in that particular context. After all, you can only find so much community with others in eating an apple by yourself. And yet, a deep connection can arise from the simple act of eating an apple. The connection exists between you, the apple, and the source where it comes from.

I've left out an important part of the rabbi's advice. It wasn't just to eat an apple, but to eat an apple with your entire body. This isn't a concept I've ever thought about, so I'm not entirely sure what that process entails. I think, though, that it means to be fully aware of yourself and the apple when you are eating. To be conscious of the life within you and to focus all of it on  bringing one small source of life into yourself. To attend to the act of eating, how your mouth moves to chew and consume this piece of fruit. To pay attention to the apple's texture, its color, its smell, its flavor, and the sound of eating it. This is what I think it means to eat an apple with one's whole body.

You may be wondering what on earth this has to do with having a religious experiences. In some ways, I think, the act of being aware and paying attention itself brings on a religious experience. One of my favorite poems by Mary Oliver talks about not knowing what a prayer is, but knowing how to pay attention, to fall and kneel down on grass, how to watch a small grasshopper eat sugar from her hand before flying away. Simply being aware and paying attention can become a sort of prayer, in that you become deeply connected to the life that surrounds you.

Eating an apple with your whole body involves a similar process. By being conscious of yourself and the apple, you become more deeply attuned to it. And in that way, you also become attuned to something that lies beyond yourself, and your connection to that thing. Some people might call that thing God or the Divine, others may call it community, others still Nature. Your connection to that thing, I think, is deeply meaningful, regardless of what you may call it. The next time you eat something (it doesn't have to be an apple), I encourage you to be mindful of some of these things, whether or not you agree with them or believe them. Try to eat something not just for sustenance or to satisfy hunger, but to for the purpose of eating it with your whole body. Just some food for thought.

By iquillen | Posted in Ian | Comments (1)

I feel like Jacob how he wrestled with God…..

March 30, 2016 at 11:36 pm

I awoke today to vague text in a group message about police sirens and ambulances outside a friends dorm. My friend lives at Kilachand Hall and he awoke to the news of a freshman's body being found. I learned of this new at the beginning of my first discussion at about 12PM and finally understood the severity of the situation. I’m still unsure of the details, but I know a precious life was lost this morning. I’ve been grappling with what was going through the individual's mind or what could have led to his circumstances or if I could have done anything to prevent this, but what dominated my thoughts is why God allowed this to happen. I felt like Jacob how he wrestled with God except I wasn’t looking for a blessing but instead I was searching for answers. I wanted God to yell down and say “I have him now and don’t worry it’s all apart of the plan”. I waited all day for those words, but those words never came instead. Instead I focused on the midterm I had to write and remembering my work schedule. Instead, I chose to think about myself and focus little on the tragedy that had occurred at the place I call home. I finished classes for the day, wrote my blog and then headed to the law building to study for a few hours. At about 8 I left for the gym and the events at Kilachand Hall didn’t even cross my mind the entire time I was there. I go to take a shower and set up my music so I can listen and place my phone on shuffle. After the first song, Hezekiah Walker’s, I Need You to Survive comes on and as I listen to the song I realize that we can all do more.

It’s simple and cliche, but the song says it in the title. Simple tell someone, “you need them” and mean it. It can go miles and that simple act of showing someone that they’re worth it can brighten their day and perhaps save their life. No, God did not yell the words I so desperately wanted to hear. Instead, he made me work and wrestle with him just like Jacob. He made ask, what matters to me and why?, and with a simple song made me realize I can do more. The fault is not with me nor anyone else, but we have to learn from this and move forward. What gave Jacob the right to wrestle with God? The answer to that is for another post, but as a follower of Christ I think you have to wrestle with God.

By Devin Harvin | Posted in Devin | Comments (3)

Easter Morning

March 30, 2016 at 11:47 am

So this year for Easter Sun rise service all of the Undergraduate Interns shared a poem.  Here is my poem:

Easter Morning

 

Today is a new day

But not just a new day

This is the day that the Lord has Made

Because of today All creation is new

Because of today I am new

Renewed in faith

A resurrection has occurred

A resurrection of the Almighty

A resurrection within me

I inhale New life

And exhale the old

The old full of pain and mistakes

I am free of the old

Because my God defeated death

I am alive because my God is alive

What a love that envelopes me

What a love that has the power to set me free

I am a new creation

Like a new born rabbit blinking into a rising sun

or a flower budding breaking through the resisting soil; rising up

I am risen this day

This my new life, given to me

By the power of the one who made me whole,

who made me new,

who made me

As the dawn is broken, my sorrow is too

And Joy comes with the morning

Joy comes with This Morning

 

Amen.

By cbjones8 | Posted in Courtney | Comments (0)

The Morning After Easter

March 27, 2016 at 9:36 pm

I celebrated Easter at Marsh Chapel this morning, beginning bright and early with an Easter Sunrise service followed by much preparation, two more services, and an Easter Egg hunt. After all of the joy and excitement of this morning, I can't help but stop to ponder one line in today's sermon. While I can't remember the exact words, it went something like this: "Death makes us mortal, but facing death makes us human." This line was said during a meditation of how we as humans respond to death.

For all of the joy, the celebration, and the message that Easter brings us, this line of the sermon reminded me that there are two parts to Easter. There is the cross and the stone rolled away from the tomb, the death and the resurrection. Easter tends to focus on the second part, and rightly so. There is much to wonder and rejoice at the mystery of someone dying and rising from the grave three days later. Whether one believes in the Gospel story or not, the scripture reading describes something miraculous, something that gives Christians hope. Hope for rebirth after loss, for joy after sorrow.

And yet that story still does not take away the prominence that death plays in our lives. Even though Easter comes every year, death is a reality that moves as time does: ever forward. While the resurrection gives us hope, it seems like half an answer to the question of how does one moves on after.

Although Christ rose from the tomb three days after being laid there, this message of Easter doesn't really answer that question. Perhaps it's not meant to. Perhaps the belief that he did it alone should be enough. I can't help but wonder, though, what that message means to someone who has just recently lost a loved one. Does it offer peace, consolation, hope? Does it help someone who is mourning or grieving heal, or move forward? What does Easter mean for our own mortality? What does the story of the resurrection mean for our willingness to face death, which makes us human? I will admit these questions may not be appropriate for Easter, but I feel compelled to ask them all the same. Sometimes, the story of the resurrection leaves me with more questions than answers, some confusion along with the joy. For now, it is enough for me to celebrate and rejoice in the coming of Easter. But these questions still linger, and it may take more than the story of Easter alone to answer them.

By iquillen | Posted in Ian | Comments (0)

On Endings and Beginnings

March 23, 2016 at 3:47 pm

I used to think Easter was about an ending. An ending I was unwilling to celebrate.

I understood the miracle of the new baby, wrapped in love, cooing in a stable.

The beginning made so much sense, the possibility, the hope.

I understood how to love the beginning, how to be wrapped up like that baby in imagination and wonder. I knew just where I belonged in the candlelight and the joy on a cold night.

And so I wondered, why this ending? Why the suffering? Why the heartbreak?

Why do I need to leave the manger, leave the promise, leave the hope.

I didn’t want to think about the ending, and so I filled my mind with more beautiful things.

 

I smiled through classes and drank cocoa on couches.

I painted and planned.

I walked wishing, as water from melting snow landed on my face.

I still smiled as springy shoots arose from the solid soil.

And as I waited the world woke up.

 

Hope sprang out of the frost bitten earth

Green shoots claiming first breaths of crisp morning air.

Quick glimpses, warm breezes and brave blossoms, reminded me that the ending had to happen.

The snow left, icicles fell into a kaleidoscope of cracked light. The world reclaimed itself, coming into its own, as surely as it had hidden itself.

 

I was too stubborn to be convinced by the story, too proud, too cynical.

And so I had to find it in the trees. Had to smell it in the flowers.

The beginning I was so comfortable with, was really a step toward the ending.

And the ending was not an ending at all.

The dark snow laden earth, has never been the beginning.

The beginning has always been the green shoots pushing up.

It has always been the melting snow rising the rivers and coaxing them to sing.

It has always been the robins plucking worms from the earth to feed a nest of new babies. It’s cracked blue eggshells, not crackling fire wood or cracked ice.

This is the beginning, the earth buzzing with new life.

This is the beginning, layers peeled back, skin touching sun.

This is the beginning, the bright hopeful sky inviting us to live again.

 

 

By jdingus | Posted in Jaimie | Comments (0)