Graduation

Later today along with 400 others, in tempertures approaching 90 degrees, I will be graduating from college. They will say my name and I’ll walk up on stage to be handed a diploma. Supposedly that’s what I’ve been working toward for four years. That’s what the assumption will be as we all take our turn to be handed an official looking paper with our name on it. I’m told it’ll impress future employers. It’s supposed to help us all get better jobs to make more money. I think the goal from that is more happiness. Well, I’m not happy.

Sure, I’ve fulfilled all the requirements for a diploma, so in that sense at least I suppose I’ve earned it. I’ve sat through classes for about 20 hours a week for four years. I’ve done countless hours of homework for those classes. I’ve written papers and given speeches and read countless books. I did all that I needed to in order to complete my assignments well and get decent grades in all of my classes. I’m sure I’ve done everything necessary to be handed a diploma. I just wish that wasn’t the emphasis.

Four years have culminated in a diploma, but I want something that actually represents all of my past four years. A diploma represents only part of this college experience. And I’d say it’s a fairly insignificant part. Fortunately there is more to a graduation ceremony. The pinnacle is being handed a diploma, but I’m choosing to look at other aspects. I’ll look at what I’m wearing for graduation.

The first thing everyone will notice is a nice Royal blue gown. That represents EMU and it makes me think about the countless sporting events I’ve attended as well as the many seasons on intramural teams. Under that gown I’ll be wearing some nice dress clothes. Probably 95% of the time I’ve dressed up as a college student was for a concert I sang in. That’s what those clothes represent for me. I’ll be wearing a white stole with blue Jerusalem crosses around my shoulders. That was given to all the students who dared to spend an entire semester in the Middle East. It represents a huge transition in my life blessing me with cross-cultural eyes and the desire to wonder. Also draped on my shoulders will be blue and gold Cords of Distinction. Those represent my investment in the Honors Program, years serving Campus Ministries, and significant involvement in church life off campus. I’ll also have a little green ribbon pinned to my gown. Every senior was given a chance to sign a Graduation Commitment devoting ourselves to a life of integrity after we graduate. I signed that and will live up to it.

One thing is missing. There’s nothing to represent the hundreds of relationships I’ve formed these last four years. There’s nothing for my 2 years in Oakwood, including the best freshman hall ever. There’s nothing for my year in Hillside with the greatest guys ever to live in the Keep. There’s nothing for the family I gained living in Martin House this year. There’s nothing for my brothers and sisters gained these last four years. There’s nothing for the beautiful one I drove home last night. There’s nothing for all of these relationships.

But maybe it’s because those don’t end. Sporting events, intramurals, concerts, cross-cultural, Honors Program, Campus Ministries—these all end. I’m no longer a part of them. They are a part of who I’ve become, but my four years are up. My relationships, fortunately, will not end and for that I’m extremely grateful. Today they’ll be represented by hugs. Hugs for a job well done these last four years and for a whole wonderful life ahead of us!

Thank you, EMU. I think I’m ready to graduate.

The Last Samurai

I watched “The Last Samurai” with a terrific group of people last weekend. This was my second time watching the movie, but the first time was 3 years, 2 months, and 28 days ago so I didn’t remember much of the plot. It’s a long and pretty emotionally powerful movie. I’d recommend it to anyone who hasn’t seen it before. One part in particular caught me as I watched it this time. (I couldn’t figure out how to tell this without giving some spoilers. Sorry.)

The story takes place in Japan in the 1870s. Nathan Algren is an American captain who has extensive experience subduing rebellions among Native Americans in the American west. Katsumoto is the leader of a Samurai rebellion fighting against the westernization of the Japanese empire. Algren has been hired to work with the Japanese empire to apply the same principles he learned from the Native Americans to surpass this native Japanese rebellion too. Before long though, he finds himself caught and cared for by his enemy, Katsumoto.

Over time, Algren embraces the lifestyle and code of honor of the samurai and chooses to switch allegiance and fight with Katsumoto against the westernized Japanese army. In one final, glorious charge, the samurai are mowed down by two twin machine guns. Katsumoto is fatally wounded, but wants to die with his honor intact, so Algren helps him fall on his own sword. As he is dying in Algren’s arms, he says something like, “They’re all perfect” while looking at blossoms blow off a tree in the wind.

It was a reference to an earlier conversation that Katsumoto had with Algren while Algren was his prisoner. My memory is fading on the specifics, but in the earlier scene Algren had approached Katsumoto with a specific question. Katsumoto ignored him and started talking about a poem and the blossoms on a tree. He said something like, “You could spend your whole life looking for the perfect blossom, and it wouldn’t be a wasted life.”

These two scenes convey the truth that somehow in the end everything is perfect. It would take an entire lifetime to define and explore the far reaches of perfection, but in the end everything holds its own perfection. Maybe everything has a part of perfection or a touch of perfection or contains a glimpse of perfection.

I agree. I take a slightly more spiritual angle though to explain it. If there is a wholly perfect God then God cannot use anything that isn’t perfect. Therefore, I define perfection as anything that can be used by God for God’s purposes, which is everything because all things are redeemable. Perfection has less to do with humanly definable characteristics and more to do with “divine potential” or whatever term you want to use. No matter the past, nothing is completely useless to God, so everything has the potential of a perfect future. No matter what disastrous past may have occurred, the future, through God’s mercy and grace, has unlimited potential for good. Therefore in its own unknown way, everything thing is perfect looking forward.

With human eyes we cannot see the perfect potential of anything and we get caught up on superficial judgments of all that we see. We would spend a lifetime looking for our own definition of perfect, but through God’s eyes all things are already perfect, whether it is a flower blossom or a human being.

Take that, world!

A little glimpse into my life:

Several years ago (Sunday, May 27, 2007 to be exact) I was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast before church. That time would have been incomplete and likely unsatisfactory without some ridiculously good reading material known to most as the Sunday comics. I've always enjoyed reading the comics, especially on Sundays, but there are few strips (if any) I enjoy more than Baby Blues. I can't pinpoint exactly what I appreciated about it, but if I was running late for church I'd still make sure to read that one.

Well, on that Sunday morning before church in May as I was eating breakfast and reading the comics I decided to cut out the Baby Blues strip. I still have it. It hung in my room at home and then in several dorm rooms at college. It's not currently hanging anywhere and is just sitting in a box, but I know exactly where it is. I was thinking of that strip today and I hope more and more that my life can emulate what it portrays.

I can't figure out how to get the picture any larger (if you click on it it'll get a little bigger), but here it is. Better yet, follow this link and enjoy more Baby Blues brilliance! Just don't waste your whole day that way.










You can barely tell, but Daryl's eyes are looking up in the last frame. Without that detail this strip doesn't quite do it for me.

Enjoy your day!

Prayer

"Prayer, therefore, is a great adventure because the God with whom we enter into a new relationship is greater than we are and defies all our calculations and predictions. The movement from illusion to prayer is hard to make since it leads us from false certainties to true uncertainties, from an easy support system to a risky surrender, and from the many 'safe' gods to the God whose love has no limits."

Henri J.M. Nouwen, Reaching Out

Prayer is an illusion when we think God will love us more when we pray.

I'm not called to be the Body of Christ

I'm not called to be the Body of Christ.

That’s not for me. That’s not for any of us. See, we just can’t do it. God didn’t design humans to work that way. Some people may think they can be the Body of Christ, but they can’t. I used to think that, but now I don’t. Last night God made me realize that I’m not called to be the Body of Christ.

“The pain of the world is a burden. It’s my cross to bear.” is a line from one of my favorite songs to play on guitar, but it can be misleading. All the pain of the world is not my cross to bear. I never really thought that it was, but now I’m sure that it’s not.

The Church is called to be the Body of Christ and as part of the Church I share a part of this calling, but I can’t claim it completely for myself. As one human being I can’t possibly be the entire Body of Christ. This may seem like a simple revelation or something so elementary to Christian life, but it had a huge impact on me yesterday.

In church yesterday morning there was a reflection time, which is completely normal. At The Table we are given questions to think about or activities to do or some other way to respond to the scriptures that we’ve been working with that morning. Yesterday was an ordination service for two leaders in my church and during the reflection time I was reflecting on the commitment they had made. It was a series of “Do you/will you . . .” statements to which they had responded “I do/I will”. It seemed pretty simple.

It was that list of questions that occupied my thoughts during the long reflection time. They aren’t easy questions! There’s certainly nothing simple to them! That’s not what this blog post is about though. I sat there reflecting on my journey with God these last years and contemplating the new chapter that is to come after graduation. I wanted nothing more than for someone to come over and talk with me. That would show me that others cared, that I was loved and that I didn’t have to take this journey by myself. Actually they didn’t even need to talk with me. I just wanted someone to sit with me as I wrestled with my thoughts.

Someone came over. She sat in the empty chair next to me and asked how I was doing. I lied. I said I was “fine” or “good” or something like that. She came over and was Christ to me and in turn I showed that I was some pathetic, little human wanting to put on a good front and hide what was really going on. I was torn up inside, but I denied it. She had shown me the Body of Christ at work and I hadn't embraced it.

Then later in the day, at Celebration (a student-led worship service) we were given time for prayer and reflection or whatever we needed to do. I sat by myself with my head in my arms trapped in thought about God’s trust for me and how undeserved it is. That’s not what this blog post is about though. For the second time in one day I found myself wanting nothing more than for someone to come over and show me that I was loved. My thoughts were my own and I wouldn’t be able to share them, but I needed someone to come over and be Christ to me again.

I was suddenly brought out of my own self-absorbed world when I realized that there may be other people in that room who were sharing my desire to be loved and cared for in that moment. It wasn’t a new realization, but this time I realized that I might be the only one aware that someone else might have those needs. What if the responsibility within the Body of Christ to be Christ to others therefore fell to me? The responsibility certainly couldn’t fall to people who were unaware of the need.

But I’m not called to be the Body of Christ by myself. In that moment I was a needy part of the Body and not in position to care for others. The needs of my Christian brothers and sisters are not all my responsibility, but rather the shared responsibility of us all. All the pain of the world is not my burden; it’s our burden to share. And fortunately it’s our burden to share as empowered by the love of God, as shown by the life of Christ, and as led by the Holy Spirit.

Being the Body of Christ doesn’t mean that we all have to love and care for everybody, but if we can all at least love and care for our friends (and maybe a few nearby enemies too!), then think of what a Body that will create! That’s so exciting to me! It’s lovers of Christ playing in concert to make gorgeous music heard by the rest of the world! And I get to be a part of it. We all do.

Your Love Endures

Though the treasures of this life may fade,
Your love endures forever.
They will pass away things that man has made,
But your love endures forever.
Now I can't explain, or even understand
Why you gave your life, to save sinful man,
But I know it's true, I've seen it myself
Your love endures forever.

Though the seasons change with the passing time,
Your love endures forever.
And the sun will fade if just for the night,
Your love endures forever.
Now I can't explain, or even understand
Why you gave your life, to save sinful man,
But I know it's true, I've seen it myself
Your love endures forever.

Though our pains and joys will come and go,
Your love endures forever.
Even in my fears I will always know,
That your love endures,
Yes your love endures forever.


Third Day

From the National Cathedral

Do you ask an illustrator to write a book? No, that is for the writer to do. Do you ask a writer to illustrate a book? No, that is for the illustrator to do. Together they create a story that illustrator-types and writer-types can both enjoy. They’ve approached the story as they are able and through their efforts others may also approach the story as they are able. The whole world shares in the gifts.

Some are gifted and able to approach stories as both writer and illustrator. So much greater the gift and the blessing, but may they not look down on those who approach only one way. For it is through all gifts both big and small that the story is exalted.

The writer meant no disrespect in missing the subtleties of the illustrator’s art when forming sentences, and likewise the illustrator meant no disrespect by simplifying the writer’s craft into one glimpse. As neither are masters of the other’s craft, they cannot measure up or be judged parallel or compared. While the writer conveys action and movement, the illustrator conveys detail and imagery. Neither approach is better nor worse; they are merely different.

Differences that divide subtract from the whole. Each craft becomes competition, drawing audiences away from the true center, the story, and towards the writing or the illustrations. Differences that complement combine to form something greater than the two parts could alone. The focus can then be central as the voice of the story is multiplied. The focus is seen and the story magnified when the elements are held together despite differences.