A Harming Shape
Dear Eugene,
What a tragedy to see no shape in our life.
Or should I say to give no shape to our life?
Or to know no shape of our life?
Postmodernism tries to convince us the only shape to anything is the shapelessness of it all, the only truth no truth, the only objective fact our subjective imposition. Postmodernism can't be true because it defeats itself by admitting even postmodernism is a subjective way of seeing.
But who needs fancy philosophy? We all see shape in our life, give shape to our life. We need meaning to stay human.
Some think the shape of our life is imposed from without; others think (or hope) it comes from within. Our life experience tells us the reality is something in between. (That's if we accept there is a "reality.")
We don't follow Frodo for 450 thousand words (and that's just counting The Lord of the Rings trilogy) because his journey is shapeless. Many of the greatest stories are literal travelogue: the home-coming in Odyssey, "downstream education" of Huckleberry Finn, Pentateuch in the Hebrew Bible. Even arguably the greatest novel of all time, James Joyce's Ulysses, is a maddeningly meandering travelogue in search of paternity and to give the shapeless quest a shape of "parallax"--the need to see from multiple perspectives.
Why social media? What are we really doing there?
A funny little game app could catch our attention for a while. A good utility app is useful insofar as we are in need to use it. But social media capture our imagination and we couldn't help but keep going back to shape and reshape our life story there.
Sometimes when we get really passionate about things and people, we write a lot. When we get lazy we post a picture, a sentence with no context, an anti-parallax snapshot . When we get even lazier but still want a share in other people's glory we post quotes or article, sermon links. We want to get in the shape of others by association.
It's all good and welcome. Harmless. One way or another we give shape to our life, even if only on paper, in pixels.
But is "harmless" really the adjective we want to use to describe the shape of our life?
If historians were right, Paul wrote two of his greatest epistles (2 Corinthians and the masterpiece the Romans) in a period of his tumultuous journey that occupies only three verses in Acts. Luke might have sounded matter-of-fact, but all we need is to pull out a map to know it was anything but.
Paul's life journey wasn't harmless. The journey was all very harming, way before that particular juncture, even more so after that.
Reading Paul's letter (actually, any letter from anyone, any email in isolation) is like listening to one side of a phone conversation; we must fill in the gap between the lines. Paul was suffering when he wrote 2 Corinthians, big time, intense.
As he was suffering big time, some not only gave him no encouragement, but even questioned his motives, his strength, his courage, his credential . Dude, you're suffering too much; take it easy! Chill up! Relax! You look too suffered, too damaged, too harm to be a Spirit-filled apostle of our risen Christ. You need a vacation from your martyrdom! You are not putting on your own show, you know? What do you really have in mind anyway?
Very harming. Self-inflicted harming they falsely accused him of. A shape of suffering imposed on his life from without and simultaneously generated from within.
Paul replied, My suffering is God's way to reveal his glory. My life is a mirror of Christ's, my suffering an imitation of his cross. If you reject me for my suffering, you are from Satan, the Accuser. A true follower of Christ suffers, a new creation of the new covenant, living for the sake of God and others, suffering to love God and others, judged by none but the universal Judge, Christ Jesus, our suffered Savior. Suffering is our true badge of discipleship, my apostleship.
Shapes of our life. Glorious contours. True colors.
Never "all good" or harmless.
Yours, Alex
What a tragedy to see no shape in our life.
Or should I say to give no shape to our life?
Or to know no shape of our life?
Postmodernism tries to convince us the only shape to anything is the shapelessness of it all, the only truth no truth, the only objective fact our subjective imposition. Postmodernism can't be true because it defeats itself by admitting even postmodernism is a subjective way of seeing.
But who needs fancy philosophy? We all see shape in our life, give shape to our life. We need meaning to stay human.
Some think the shape of our life is imposed from without; others think (or hope) it comes from within. Our life experience tells us the reality is something in between. (That's if we accept there is a "reality.")
We don't follow Frodo for 450 thousand words (and that's just counting The Lord of the Rings trilogy) because his journey is shapeless. Many of the greatest stories are literal travelogue: the home-coming in Odyssey, "downstream education" of Huckleberry Finn, Pentateuch in the Hebrew Bible. Even arguably the greatest novel of all time, James Joyce's Ulysses, is a maddeningly meandering travelogue in search of paternity and to give the shapeless quest a shape of "parallax"--the need to see from multiple perspectives.
Why social media? What are we really doing there?
A funny little game app could catch our attention for a while. A good utility app is useful insofar as we are in need to use it. But social media capture our imagination and we couldn't help but keep going back to shape and reshape our life story there.
Sometimes when we get really passionate about things and people, we write a lot. When we get lazy we post a picture, a sentence with no context, an anti-parallax snapshot . When we get even lazier but still want a share in other people's glory we post quotes or article, sermon links. We want to get in the shape of others by association.
It's all good and welcome. Harmless. One way or another we give shape to our life, even if only on paper, in pixels.
But is "harmless" really the adjective we want to use to describe the shape of our life?
If historians were right, Paul wrote two of his greatest epistles (2 Corinthians and the masterpiece the Romans) in a period of his tumultuous journey that occupies only three verses in Acts. Luke might have sounded matter-of-fact, but all we need is to pull out a map to know it was anything but.
Paul's life journey wasn't harmless. The journey was all very harming, way before that particular juncture, even more so after that.
Reading Paul's letter (actually, any letter from anyone, any email in isolation) is like listening to one side of a phone conversation; we must fill in the gap between the lines. Paul was suffering when he wrote 2 Corinthians, big time, intense.
As he was suffering big time, some not only gave him no encouragement, but even questioned his motives, his strength, his courage, his credential . Dude, you're suffering too much; take it easy! Chill up! Relax! You look too suffered, too damaged, too harm to be a Spirit-filled apostle of our risen Christ. You need a vacation from your martyrdom! You are not putting on your own show, you know? What do you really have in mind anyway?
Very harming. Self-inflicted harming they falsely accused him of. A shape of suffering imposed on his life from without and simultaneously generated from within.
Paul replied, My suffering is God's way to reveal his glory. My life is a mirror of Christ's, my suffering an imitation of his cross. If you reject me for my suffering, you are from Satan, the Accuser. A true follower of Christ suffers, a new creation of the new covenant, living for the sake of God and others, suffering to love God and others, judged by none but the universal Judge, Christ Jesus, our suffered Savior. Suffering is our true badge of discipleship, my apostleship.
Shapes of our life. Glorious contours. True colors.
Never "all good" or harmless.
Yours, Alex
We're reading 2 Corinthians together right now as a family because we follow Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals. Do you too? The Corinthian correspondence has for many years been my favourite of Paul's letters. Thanks, Alex, for this prickly reflection on our acedia.
ReplyDeleteThanks again Tim! We are not using the Common Prayer book, but for our family Bible Study, we are planning to go the "topical" approach, as that's what the younger ones among us want; though, of course, we will always anchor all strands of conversation to the right Story, fleshing out the true "shape" of our life, together and as an individual.
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