Some Thoughts on Narrative, Part 1: Your Role

Recently I have been talking, and reading, and thinking about narrative, or stories, if you will, with friends and a significant other. Now albeit narrative might be some sort of buzz word, or maybe I just hear it a lot, but I want to talk about it anyways. Because without narrative I feel like things are just happening, just going along and you fail to have a meaning to it all. Without a story to our lives, you might as well just kill yourself. Without narrative, you are just moving molecules. You are equivalent to dirt.

I recently read a book you might have heard of called A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, by Donald Miller, in which Miller traces his own story from the beginning of feeling that there is no story, to deciding to make his story more interesting, more meaningful, more exciting. He goes from his life story being just events that happened at random, with no intentionality, to a story that has intention, purpose, fulfillment. If you haven’t read the book, I recommend it, though don’t expect it to be the same as his other books. Written in the same style, yes, but different in what he wrestles with. But before I read this book, and also during the time I was reading this book, I felt compelled to say a few words about your story, and my story. And about The Story.

Something Miller talks about is having a story worth telling, a story that is exciting and meaningful, a story that others would like to hear. A story not about a janitor. Miller writes that good stories involve a conflict in which the main character sacrifices and overcomes hurdles, and ultimately is better for it. Miller doesn’t write about janitors working minimum wage with five kids.

What is with the janitor, you ask?

I loved Donald Miller’s book, and found many an interesting thing about it, but what I am about to say is more to expand upon the idea that Donald Miller wrote about, not to disagree with him. I doubt that if you told Miller what I am about to say that he would disagree; he would probably agree, and then say cool things about it as well.

An aside: if you’ve ever heard Donald Miller speak, and then listen to John MacMurray, they have some similarities, I believe. No surprise when you learn Miller lived with him for a couple of years and was influenced by him. Something I just thought about if you do ever ask him about what I wrote about.

In our stories we get to tell people about what we’ve done, how we’ve done it, and we hope to influence those around us to be motivated as well to live out their stories with meaning as well. But something we must always understand is that our stories always fall into The Story. The Story being the story that God has written. If you would like a recap on what has happened so far in The Story, I’ll direct you toward the Bible. Go ahead and read it, then come back here. Trust me, I’ve got the time (because I don’t have to actually wait for you.)

Also, if you would like an understanding of the story and what role we play in it, I’ll direct you to N.T. Wright’s article.

But here’s the thing that I wanted to talk about, and that is understanding your role in The Story. Because I think one thing that can happen to us after reading A Million Miles is to look disparaging at our own stories and feel that they are not good enough, not exciting or very thrilling, and in an attempt to make them better we may throw ourselves into adventures and situations that may not actually be good for our stories. We may do more harm than good to achieve a good story. We have to understand that there is a larger story, a story composed of all our stories, a symphonic story if you will. I’m pretty sure symphonic story is an oxymoron. We must always understand that we can make our stories good, but we must also be willing to make our story what God wants it to be. Our story is not necessarily our story. Or it can be our story, but it will be a story of misery. But when we plug ourselves into The Story, the story God has written, than our story becomes The Story, a story written by God, played out by us, to influence others. We become a character in The Story of redemption. But we must have a larger view of The Story over our story, and know that sometimes our story is not always the exciting one, the adventurous one, the one that is always retold. But it is the story that God wants to write, the story that God will want to tell, because it is His story.

Let me tell you about a janitor.

My father knew a janitor once, a janitor working for minimum wage, a janitor with a wife and five kids. And they had almost nothing. His children wore the clothes that others handed down to them, and they lived in a tiny house. I’ve never learned any more about this janitor, except that he and his wife and kids were happy and content in life. And that was all that mattered.

I love the story of the janitor because he was just a janitor. And I know nothing else about him; I don’t know his beginning, his ending, just that he was content. And this story has always stuck with me. How could he be content? How could his family be content? Doesn’t this sound like a terrible story? And yet compared with all other stories of success, adventure, excitement, this is the story I love best.

This story is like a Matthias story:

Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mountain called the Mount of Olives (which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day’s journey away). 1:13 When they had entered Jerusalem, they went to the upstairs room where they were staying. Peter and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James were there. 1:14 All these continued together in prayer with one mind, together with the women, along with Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers. 1:15 In those days Peter stood up among the believers (a gathering of about one hundred and twenty people) and said, 1:16 “Brothers, the scripture had to be fulfilled that the Holy Spirit foretold through David concerning Judas – who became the guide for those who arrested Jesus –1:17 for he was counted as one of us and received a share in this ministry.” 1:18 (Now this man Judas acquired a field with the reward of his unjust deed, and falling headfirst he burst open in the middle and all his intestines gushed out. 1:19 This became known to all who lived in Jerusalem, so that in their own language they called that field Hakeldama, that is, “Field of Blood.”) 1:20 “For it is written in the book of Psalms, ‘Let his house become deserted, and let there be no one to live in it,’ and ‘Let another take his position of responsibility.’ 1:21Thus one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time the Lord Jesus associated with us, 1:22 beginning from his baptism by John until the day he was taken up from us – one of these must become a witness of his resurrection together with us.” 1:23 So they proposed two candidates: Joseph called Barsabbas (also called Justus) and Matthias. 1:24 Then they prayed, “Lord, you know the hearts of all. Show us which one of these two you have chosen 1:25 to assume the task of this service and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.” 1:26 Then they cast lots for them, and the one chosen was Matthias; so he was counted with the eleven apostles.

Some say that Matthias is never mentioned afterwards because he wasn’t supposed to be a real apostle, though they fail to also mention that of all the apostles besides Peter, John, and James are also never mentioned again. I believe the author of Acts was just concentrating on certain people.

But often our stories may be like Matthias, just a name that pops up and then disappears. But we must understand that like Matthias we are still characters in The Story. It may not be our role to be a main character, to be a Moses, or David, or Elijah, or Esther, or Ruth, or Peter, or Mary. We may just be like Matthias, just a character here or there. But in The Story, the one revealed to us at the end of all things, we will see that our stories were important, were part of the symphonic story that was told. We may be minor, but we are always important. So don’t fear if you find yourself being a Matthias; be content. Be a janitor with five kids. And maybe you’ll find yourself talked about in a blog some day.

But be content, and know that if you are living out the story that God has called you to live, you are living the story that pleases Him the most. His story for us is the best story, and though we may struggle, though we may wish for a better story, know that His story for you will be the story that everyone will remember, the story that will serve a purpose beyond anything you could ever have written. You may be a triangle in the symphonic story, but you will be the triangle that holds it all together, and God will be pleased to hear your story over and over again. Seek not to write the story that is most exciting, but the story that most excites our Maker. For that story is His story.

Cameron

 

The Silence of Sheep

“He was treated harshly and afflicted,
but he did not even open his mouth.
Like a lamb led to the slaughtering block,
like a sheep silent before her shearers,
he did not even open his mouth.” Isaiah 53:7

Sometimes I feel that I am never quite like Christ… often I feel that I am never quite like Christ… I am never like Christ. Who is?

Can we use this idea to say we should never speak up? Is there a lesson to learn here about being voiceless sheep? But sometimes I want to speak up, and the funny thing though is that I don’t like to speak up in public. I want to speak up in private, behind backs and away from those who could change things. Can they change things? But sometimes I just want to unload and let my feelings out. Because sometimes I just get exceedingly frustrated and need an outlet. And I’ve never been totally sure if I could confront anyone about anything. Would I have the words to say, the courage to speak up, the stubbornness to not back down?

This would be easier if I couldn’t see both sides of the matter as well. So maybe I don’t speak up because I feel that there is the conclusion reached in which we realize we are but small ants raging against the foot coming down on us. So let us scatter, that we may not be trampled.

But as a sheep, sometimes I want to escape this sheep pen, to leave this hired hand and explore this country. It would be nice to get away from the farm and the sheers for just this once, to breath easy. But I am responsible, after all.

I feel that speaking up would be useless. I have seen what they have done to those before, and so I will keep silent. Because I will not undermine the work that God is still doing.

Oh the silence of sheep,
That it would be so glamorous,
But instead it is scandalous.

And you will call me weak,
And I will feel weak,
And yet maybe…

Maybe strength is weak.

Cameron

 

In Conflict

You ever wonder if you were made to conflict with yourself? Kind of like one big giant paradox, or something of the sort? Sort of the feeling that maybe this positive and negative wire should not touch, but for some reason inside your brain they do? You ever get the feeling something might have been messed up in the process, or you developed the wrong set of skills? It’s an interesting thought.

Sometimes, like today at work, I wonder if my own being conflicts with itself in some weird sort of way. I’m a introvert, and yet everyone wants me around; I never take my job seriously, yet I work the hardest; I’m never serious, but I am serious all the time. I sometimes just feel like something inside of me is just conflicting a lot of the time, like something got a little screwed up.

But I guess holistically it might make sense, and logically it has to. If the saying is true, and I cannot believe it isn’t, then “God doesn’t make junk.” So if God doesn’t make junk, what’s going on here? Though I guess that is the question everyone always asks; “God, what are you doing? Who am I?”

But I was pondering on the way home today from work, bouncing things around in my head and wondering that maybe if God did make me the way he made me, and if he made me unique, then maybe there was a purpose to it all. Sometimes it is hard for me to believe that though as it seems the things we must do, the people we must be, in a general sense as followers of Christ, goes against what I feel are the very basic truths about myself. No christian is supposed to be an island, yet I don’t want to be around people ever. Every christian must be an evangelist, and yet I hate talking to people. We must all be in community, but community is the one thing that wears me down the most, the constant presence and responsibility to be plugged into other people. Not to say I don’t want to be plugged in, but when it drains me more than manual labor and running a marathon, how do you bring that idea out of tension? When the very basics of who you feel you are, the very simple things you’ve come to realize are in contention with what Christianity seems to be all about, how do you ratify this idea?

I once thought about, and I still do actually, writing a book about introverts, misanthropes, and timid individuals in the christian context and what it all looks like to be the very people that Christianity seems to be all against. What do you do when Christ’s last command was to go out to all peoples and nations, but it is all the peoples and nations that wear you down and destroy you? Because there is a huge difference between being nervous to share the gospel with people (something everyone usually agrees with) and just being nervous around anyone, even Christians themselves. And then to hear how we aren’t being like Christ by being to nervous or too worn out to be around people all the time, you begin to think that maybe God made junk, or maybe when Christ was redeeming you he might have forgotten to redeem your personality traits. And now you’re screwed.

So who knows, maybe I just wrote the intro to my book, or a basic overview. But I was thinking about that today, pondering who I am and how I feel I was made. Maybe I’m all wrong about who I am, but outside of myself, I don’t think anyone else really knows better than I do. That’s excluding God of course.

Cameron

 

Damascus

But what if it wasn’t so easy? What if you found yourself once again slipping into those things that you once swore off, for better or for worse? Because I would destroy myself to never again be one of those, to never live as they. Maybe I have a complex, a psychological problem, a mistaken identity… I sometimes feel like the message touched me closer to the heart, to the soul, to the mind. Things were not just shaken up, they were then reassembled, rearranged, aligned and righted, consoled and corrected. And maybe it cannot survive.

To be selfless in a selfish society seems like a oxymoron. And… pernicious. It seems like a terrible trick, a joke in which everyone else is laughing. And I continue to write with my left hand.

And am I making my way to Damascus? A road which is stronger, a road which is longer. Oh my, I would find myself again. I would find myself lying down.

Too much thinking again.

I would say this; oh Lord, let me follow in your footsteps and be your child. And on the Damascus road, break me again.

Cameron

 

My Apologies

But I really get tired and find it hard to do anything during my down time. The thought of doing nothing but just spacing off into the distance is hard to overcome. I’m not a busy man, as some would say, because when I’m not at work I’m usually doing something with someone somewhere. I’ve tried to explain this before though that I do not get energy from doing such things; I lose it. I’m an introvert. Social settings drain me. The only problem though is that I find it necessary to do such things in social settings because I am called to be in community, to spend time with those around me and to contribute to the lives of those around me. For if I have not love…

So the problems exists that things like studywithme and this blog get discarded and ignored. Not that I haven’t wanted to post something, it’s just that when I’m sitting down, finally resting I find it hard to pick the computer up and do anything but find random videos on youtube. By the way, I just accidentally spent an hour watching Systm episodes while looking up the youtube link. I find computer stuff interesting still. It’s ironic.

I guess all of this is to say that I’m attempting to find a balance, the ability to have an extracurricular life outside of work and ministry. And it has been tough. The problem I have been finding mostly is that I love ministry and it is something I would love to be able to do as my job, but at the moment I am not paid to do it so I end up having to work my paying job to have the money to keep doing ministry, i.e. have money for gas and other expenses. I was talking with a friend the other day about how hard it is to keep going sometimes when you feel that all you are doing is working two jobs, and one you don’t get paid for. We both agreed that we find ourselves so exhausted some days, and yet we just keep going and working and ministering and running. I myself would love to sleep more, to have a better balance, but how can I when I am expected to be in ten places at once? And it isn’t that I get pulled into things but that I love the things I do outside of work and I find it hard to say no. I can honestly say that I don’t love Starbucks enough to make that the center of my life. The last thing I want to do is define my life and schedule around making single venti 8 pump nonfat with extra whip white mochas. And caramel sauce on top.

I told myself that this summer would be a relaxed summer, a time to do less and take a break while school isn’t in season, but I find myself still running, still tired, still worn out. And the worst part is I find myself wanting to just give up and start letting tons of people down. But why not? Would it be so evil to let others down that I might take a breather?

And sometimes I feel like I’m just whining. Is it really all that terrible? Is my life so hard? Is it so terrible that I only have a room so that I might sleep at night and never spend the day at home? Is it so terrible that my family never sees me except at night as I lie down, and sometimes in the morning when I wake up?

And I fear what this might mean for any future families I might want to raise myself. Would my children never see me? Would my wife know who I am? Am I suddenly a workaholic, the one thing I never want to be, the one thing I despise? Dear Lord, allow me this one thing to never be.

Cameron

 

Apple Adventures

Recently I was contacted by Joey Wulf to help him out with a little Apple computer buying scheme he had cooked up. Being in the Netherlands, it’s a little harder for Joey to just grab someone to go run a little errand for him, especially with these details, but I was game. Apple is running a little interesting promo this summer by allowing college students to receive a free 8GB iPod touch when they purchase a new laptop; all you have to do is show your school ID or enrollment papers. So Joey, with a tax refund to be used, asked if I would be willing to purchase a new computer for him along with getting a free iPod touch. You know, I think I could be used in such a way.

The whole buying process was pretty normal, didn’t really take much since Joey had already picked everything out that he wanted, and I just had to pretend like I was getting the laptop for myself. Everything was there for the most part, though one little item was missing though I doubt Joey will be all that bothered. Something interesting to note, the last time I was in there the sales guy had bad breath and so did the guy today. Maybe it’s just some Apple standard. So with everything in hand (in bag?) I walked outside and waited for the train to take me back to Lloyd center. While standing there a nice old lady in a wheelchair asked if I would help her to the bathroom since she had to go and was tired of wheeling herself around. I complied and spent the next 15-20 minutes trying to get her to the bathroom. Turns out the elevator in the first section of Pioneer Square Mall is broken, so we had to search out the closest elevator in the next section. Then, once we found it on the other side I had to risk crossing streets illegally and hold open doors for her to wheel through. She had to pee, so there was no waiting for lights to change. Finally I got her in the elevator and left her to make my way back to the train. Boarded the first blue line that came my way, which was packed, and got off at Lloyd Center to then engage in conversation with a Greenpeace representative for about half an hour. We discussed whales, computers, corporations, school, and a whole other myriad of things. Sadly I couldn’t really support them because I have no money of my own to actually spend.

In all of this time though I was struck by just how interesting it all was. It’s funny that sometimes I just want to be left alone; and other times I just feel alive and engaged by the people around me, even if I don’t know anything about them. Standing on the MAX with a million other people, figuring out how to rearrange ourselves every time someone wanted to get on or off, helping an old lady find a bathroom while commiserating on how there is very little access for handicap people, discussing life in general with a Greenpeace guy…

Life is not stale. It is constantly moving.

Cameron

 

An Expose on Fruit

Often we talk about fruit, while maybe eating some fruit, or with fruit sitting in a bowl near us, and we have an interesting division that we create. For we talk about spiritual fruit and physical fruit as if they are two different things. One we must grow and produce in good quality in our lives, the other we allow to rot and spoil in a bowl while bemoaning the fact that we haven’t started our new diet or contemplate introducing more fruit into our lives. Or sometimes we include it in neat fruit bowls and or throw it in a blender with some ice cream, or ice, or liquor. Oh the harassment fruit must overcome.

So I’m sitting there, a half consumed banana in my hand, another two sitting in a bowl next to an orange and an apple, contemplating the quality of the fruit that I am eating, which is quite exceptional quality.

So I’m sitting there, over half way through Ezekiel, reading about trees along the bank of the river flowing out of the new temple growing fruit and producing a great multitude that feeds the people, contemplating spiritual fruit. And on the table nearby is a banana I’m thinking about eating, and I will have half consumed when these two fruits collide.

I want you to contemplate a question: why does Paul call it the fruits of the Spirit? Why not actions, or projections, or signs? Why does the bible use the analogy of believers being trees that bear good fruit?

And what do you do with good fruit?

Maybe these things, like real fruit that sits on our table, are to be consumed and not just allowed to rot. I was thinking that like real fruit you wouldn’t just produce good, quality, tasty fruit just to let it sit around and spoil. You want good, quality, tasty fruit so that you can consume it and enjoy it. Maybe just any quality of fruit isn’t good enough because no one wants to eat just plain old, low-quality fruit. And I’m talking about spiritual fruit, not real fruit, though it is also true of that as well.

But this is what I imagine: the church, as a body, needs some sort of food to nourish it, to help it keep moving. Now it isn’t just good enough that the body produces the good, quality, tasty fruit but it also must consume it. It has to take a bite out of it, chew it, swallow it, digest it… poop it out. The very people in the body are also the ones that are growing fruit and nourishing the body, essentially supplying itself with the very things it needs to survive. As a community the church, the body, produces it’s fruit but also brings the fruit to itself and nourishes the very thing that keeps it going.

But a short word: that is not to say we must be consumed completely by the body; we aren’t called to be trees that are withered down to nothing and then burned in the fire. That would seem counter-intuitive. You would end up just killing the body. But instead, in a healthy way, the trees produce the fruit, it is consumed, and the trees once again produce the fruit, a completely self-sustaining body (though not to say self-sustaining should also mean separated from everything and everyone else).

The church could sustain and nourish itself?

Cameron

 

Green shores, and far off lands…

I guess it gets hard sometimes. It is often possible to lose sight of the greater things. And I will sometimes take the position of Jonah and await the destruction of this world, provoking my Lord to anger. Because it is easier to see the end coming then to stop it. And it is easier to watch from cliffs above, then to pronounce the salvation that is here.

And sometimes it is difficult to not grow weary of the fallen state we all exist in. I ponder why it is that I still rage against this existence, these faults. But maybe it is just a part of my nature, to desire better things, more perfect things. Not that I want to be better than anyone else, but I await the time I will no longer stress about my short comings. The times when my existence will not be stressed, and exasperated, and wearied by these things that do not happen. When I am refined, may I find rest.

And often I believe the end is slowly coming. We’ll reach the bottom of the hill and finally find our death, our extinction, a burning end as they always told us. But sometimes I pull my head above the waterline, and I remember that we are as we always have been. It isn’t anything new that we have done, and it doesn’t move us any further along. No, we are merely existing in our broken state. We are not descending from the original sin, nor are we ascending this holy hill. We are as we are, a marred statue, a cracked vase, a faulty chair, an adulterous lover. “There is nothing new under the sun,” is how we’ve said it before. Why didn’t we understand that?

But again, there is remedy. But again, there is hope. But again, we will see. Upon weak legs we will stand in the end, and we will stand stronger. But for now we are here, to share the hope, to be apart of this world, to intermingle and get dirty, to lose hope and regain it, and spread it, to fall upon grace, and to pour it out, to love, to do in remembrance, to live. Because redemption is coming, and very few know that. And sometimes I forget.

But redemption is coming, and not because we can make it happen, but because he will make it happen. And he will come like the rising sun onto our dark lands. And we will see green shores, and far off lands, and pastures of blue, and yellow, and orange, and purple, and red. And for once our vision will not be as looking into a mirror dimly.

We will see. And he will come. And upon our knees we will welcome the dawn.

Come, O Lord!
The dawn is nigh!

Cameron

 

“I’m going to save you, Merry.”

So what is the point of being here in the world? And why are we still here?

Why would a God who loves us and cares for us leave us here?

Why would the God of the universe allow us to die? Even at the hands of sinners?

Why does God allow our friends to betray us, our loved ones to cheat on us, our parents to disown us?

And why does God allow wars and starvation in Africa?

Child prostitution in Asia?

Drug abuse in Europe?

Consumerism in America?

“And the one seated on the throne said: ‘Look! I am making all things new!’ Then he said to me, ‘Write it down, because these words are reliable and true.’”

Write it down.

Cameron

 

In Light of Things…

In light of things I have observed
I have come upon a speculation:
Must we be ever in contention with one another?
Must two fists collide?
Must individuality reign?
Or have we:
Forgotten?
Failed to observe?
Never learned?
Ignored?

And must we stay at this point?
Or maybe we could learn.
Or are we bound to make the same mistakes?
I fear I must also fail,
For I have done just as these;
I was once a colliding fist.

Can two become one?
Could they submit?
Because she asked, “Are you listening to me?”
And he fussed.
And when she spoke again,
He interrupted.
And I saw two people;
(I thought of how he could listen better,
If he were more humble he would…
But would I?)

Maybe it is easier to observe,
Than to be observed.
I submit that we should submit to one another,
That two should become one
For it is easier for me to proclaim such a thing
Than to live it out
And I,
Like you,
Will fail to do so.

Cameron