Daily Office at Wendy's
The day before yesterday was cathartic. In speaking to one of my friends, there is a freedom to know that you are allowed to be where you are for some moment(s), if for nothing else to move somewhere else.
Yesterday I did the Daily Office in the parking lot of Wendy's at lunch. A bit difficult to stand and sit, but I managed. It speaks of our sin and repentance, but even before this God was speaking of sin and repentance. I had an email moment of humility with a vendor that I had lashed out against recently. It was the day I was sick. I was composing that email to lambash him again. What terrible service, what condescension, what a liar! And he "had won." Others in my organization thought his rhetoric made a lot of sense - I must defend myself. So I sat at the computer near midnight re-wording, re-drafting, re-thinking, re-living to the point where I stopped. Had the day yielded nothing of godly consequence? The email was short, indicating that the service he was requesting of me was in motion; no more commentary, no defense, that's it. I felt in a sense this was a reconciliatory event. Not much of one, but in that genre.
But I wasn't done. God was screaming in the Daily Office, "But you're not done with her!" With her - no, Lord. She had taken the email guy's side and my actions were justifiable as office politics, defensive territorialism, you know, just the way things get done in the "real world." I guess God missed that lesson somewhere. So right after the lunch Daily Office, I performed the paperwork my secretary would have normally done and walked it down to the accountant. I knew she wasn't the right person to give it to, but it's what I chose to do to be in proximity to her. And when I saw her, I saw the tumult of cancer time after time, the pain of multiple failed marriages, the feeling of being unappreciated, the hunched tiredness. Believe me, she's got her issues, but I had to live with her, not at a distance. I could no longer shape her into the enemy to justify myself. We walked a bit as she was thankful to get out of her office and deliver my paperwork to the right person. We parted by wishing each other a nice weekend. As with the email man, it wasn't explicit, and maybe it will require additional attention, but at least a new current has been established.
I borrowed my sister's car recently and she had the Rent musical CD on a particular song, Seasons of Love (select song 1 from disk 2 in the list to hear a snippet). Many times since hearing it, I've meditated on it. It talks about how should we measure someone's life after they are dead. Is it in terms of the cups of coffee they drank, the proportion of laughter to cruelty, the abuses, the triumphs, the disease, the honor to others, the children, the work, ... The song's conclusion is "how about love?" How do I judge the life of a person? Do I try to get into God's head to distinguish between Saved and Unsaved or decent Vs. dispicable? Do I establish acceptable standards of justifiable indiscretions for those around me, but when they cross the line, look out? Do I not require anything from their behavior to love at some deep, real, appropriate level?
Yesterday I did the Daily Office in the parking lot of Wendy's at lunch. A bit difficult to stand and sit, but I managed. It speaks of our sin and repentance, but even before this God was speaking of sin and repentance. I had an email moment of humility with a vendor that I had lashed out against recently. It was the day I was sick. I was composing that email to lambash him again. What terrible service, what condescension, what a liar! And he "had won." Others in my organization thought his rhetoric made a lot of sense - I must defend myself. So I sat at the computer near midnight re-wording, re-drafting, re-thinking, re-living to the point where I stopped. Had the day yielded nothing of godly consequence? The email was short, indicating that the service he was requesting of me was in motion; no more commentary, no defense, that's it. I felt in a sense this was a reconciliatory event. Not much of one, but in that genre.
But I wasn't done. God was screaming in the Daily Office, "But you're not done with her!" With her - no, Lord. She had taken the email guy's side and my actions were justifiable as office politics, defensive territorialism, you know, just the way things get done in the "real world." I guess God missed that lesson somewhere. So right after the lunch Daily Office, I performed the paperwork my secretary would have normally done and walked it down to the accountant. I knew she wasn't the right person to give it to, but it's what I chose to do to be in proximity to her. And when I saw her, I saw the tumult of cancer time after time, the pain of multiple failed marriages, the feeling of being unappreciated, the hunched tiredness. Believe me, she's got her issues, but I had to live with her, not at a distance. I could no longer shape her into the enemy to justify myself. We walked a bit as she was thankful to get out of her office and deliver my paperwork to the right person. We parted by wishing each other a nice weekend. As with the email man, it wasn't explicit, and maybe it will require additional attention, but at least a new current has been established.
I borrowed my sister's car recently and she had the Rent musical CD on a particular song, Seasons of Love (select song 1 from disk 2 in the list to hear a snippet). Many times since hearing it, I've meditated on it. It talks about how should we measure someone's life after they are dead. Is it in terms of the cups of coffee they drank, the proportion of laughter to cruelty, the abuses, the triumphs, the disease, the honor to others, the children, the work, ... The song's conclusion is "how about love?" How do I judge the life of a person? Do I try to get into God's head to distinguish between Saved and Unsaved or decent Vs. dispicable? Do I establish acceptable standards of justifiable indiscretions for those around me, but when they cross the line, look out? Do I not require anything from their behavior to love at some deep, real, appropriate level?
posted by Learner at 3/04/2006 09:11:00 AM
3 Comments:
Interesting thoughts! I appreciate your honesty. Keep those deep Daily Office thoughts coming. It is good to take a step back and think about what is going on. Americans do not give enough time to think about things, we only over-analyze things. Think about things without YOU being in the middle. It is not necessarily about the individual, but about everyone. Be good!
Blue Like Jazz - have you read it?
The whole consumerism form of love- I'll only love if it pays me back - not good, but n atural.
At the Emergent Conference Miroslav Volf was focused on the process of reconciliation. Perhaps "process" is inaccurate, it might be something like components that make up the whole. I think I've always used reconciliation, forgiveness, repentance, restoration, and the like as synonymns for each other. He makes the point that many of these words have unique characteristics and place. They are pieces to reconciliation which is ultimately embracing the other in spite of remembering, justice, and the like. I think he would say that you can participate in these pieces to and at various levels in relationships. But, the Christ picture is that of God embracing even though he knows that the cross is in the wings. There is no reconcilion without ultimate risk.
Volf also asks how long the victim stays innocent. In my saga, there is definitely a "I'll give as good as I've been given" stench which might be consumption-driven. But, I think the point of conviction has more to do with this role reversal from innocent to victem. Like in the movie Falling Down when Michael Douglas asks, "When did I become the bad guy?"
I hadn't heard of "Blue Like Jazz," but from the web site it sounds interesting. Volf made a comment along the lines that a good atheist may be closer to God than many Christians. That to hate or reject may be to take more seriously than just to skim along. I don't know Miller's background, but it sounds like his outside perspectives may be eye-opening.
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