Island of Flowers in the City Twilight

In January, the temp agency had me three days in a row at an independent insurance adjusters' office. Each of those evenings, I got off the bus coming home, tired and famished, walking off some slight motion sickness--and after crossing the street, I walked past a little patch of grass with pinkish-purple flowers in it. After a full day of staring at a computer screen, and then the jerky, malodorous ride home, the beauty of this lush little island of vibrant plant life, sprouting in the midst of concrete, exhaust, and asphalt, pierced my heart every time.

 I'm not sure I can even describe how it felt. Like catching a glimpse of paradise.


When Brandon's parents visited from Seattle in the winter, his mom commented on all the lovely blooming flowers here in Pasadena. It's true. There are always flowers everywhere.

Begonias and star jasmine line the way to Fuller campus; there are roses planted along the side of a beautiful old church building converted now into offices, near City Hall, on the way to train station; poppies and manzanitas in front of the library; and a stunning variety of camelias behind the apartment complexes on the way to the other train station.

Seminarians like to talk about "realized eschatology"--"the kingdom of heaven is among you"--i.e. heaven is already here. But actually, seminarians like me prefer to talk about "partially realized eschatology"--i.e. heaven is kind of already here. But there is still much more to look forward to.

It's kind of the paradoxical thing about beauty: it makes you at the same time feel filled beyond capacity, and content that this should be all there is, yet still somehow longing for more.

Anyway, I thought the painting turned out okay. Hope you enjoyed it and the kind of disjointed commentary. (-:

then he chose to make them laugh

Last night I dreamed about "the enemy"
from a work of young adult fiction:
the no-fun, follow-the-rules
uptight principal of a school.
A cat started asking him
questions--stupid questions, like
Why don't you use your tongue to clean yourself?
Why are you always walking on the ground instead of jumping up on stuff?
But it got him thinking
And he addressed the students
He told them why
Why am I so boring?
Because I hate my life
Why am I so boring?
Because I hate you all and I hate myself
And instead of feeling pity
everyone laughed and knew
he was well on his way
to becoming a great principal and stand-up comedian

Inviting Criticism

As part of the ordination process in the Presbyterian Church (USA), I have had to meet with a regional committee that examines my readiness for ministry. I met with them for “final assessment” this past Saturday. I preached a sermon before the committee and submitted quite a bit of writing, including a one-page statement of faith. Everything went well, and they eventually voted unanimously that I be certified ready to receive a call as an ordained minister. (Hooray!)

There was a bit a constructive criticism involved in the meeting. It was certainly very respectfully, even kindly offered and helpful. And I was reflecting afterward that this is part of what has drawn me to pastoral ministry: I would imagine pastors get more criticism, and from all kinds of people, than professionals in most any other capacity. Because pretty much everyone has opinions about theology and liturgy and how a church should be run, and what pastors ought to do or be like, regardless of their (lack of) training or education or their position.

Of course, receiving criticism induces anxiety, which is not pleasant, but the reward of managing that anxiety, and learning both when to change, and when to stand one’s ground, is … well … something I highly covet. I have always wanted to become wise, and I think being confronted by people who disagree with me will assist me toward that goal.

The problem is … so many people are afraid of confrontation and would rather stop attending a church than call the pastor out on something they think is not right. I don’t know yet whether the congregation I get called to will need encouragement in providing criticism or not. But I’ve been considering how, in either case, I could institute some practices to invite constructive criticism. I could start a suggestions box (actually, I think that would be a great idea for other reasons, too). I heard about a pastor who sends his sermon manuscript to several people for critique a few days before preaching. That sounds awesome. I’ve also had an idea that maybe there could be a quarterly “Town Hall” type of congregational meeting. I would like to find ways not just to welcome input, but to solicit it. A lot of people don’t offer anything unless asked directly.

Anyway … I just can’t wait to have all kinds of people tell me nit-picky, odd, and conflicting things about how to do my job! Hooray, conflict and anxiety! (Hooray for growing wiser.)

Socialist Libertarianism: The Party For Me?

Yesterday I received a letter in the mail that made my stomach turn. It was some kind of request to confirm my membership in the Republican party. I felt like screaming “WHAT?!?!? No, no, no! I’ve never been part of your lousy party! This is all some kind of horrible, horrible mistake!”

I would also have been horrified if I’d received such a letter from the Democratic party—but probably not to the point where I felt I needed to take a bath to wash away the slime of association.

I know I shouldn’t be so hard on Republicans. They make some valid points and I agree with their stance on some issues. But their ideology just seems so muddled to me.

Anyway, I was thinking a while back to post something about my framework for analysis of political issues. I guess it will kind of explain why I am neither a Republican nor Democrat (nor anything else).

As I see it, there are two great American political traditions, both of which are important, but which constantly come into conflict: the libertarian tradition and the socialist tradition.

Libertarianism is basically the idea that this is a free country. Everyone is free to do whatever they want as long as it does not interfere with other people being able to do whatever they want. And the sole purpose of the government is to prevent people from infringing on each other’s rights.

Now, unfortunately, in order for government to exist, it must infringe on some rights—most notably, property rights. The imposition of taxes is an infringement on people’s right to keep their stuff and do with it as they please. But this is an absolutely necessary infringement that cannot be gotten around. So, the libertarian tradition must come to terms with the fact that the government sometimes has to infringe on people’s rights in order to prevent the infringement of other, more important rights.

The second great American political tradition (socialism) is basically the idea that the government can also infringe on people’s rights in order to serve the common good. Taxes are imposed to provide valuable services which may be as widely supported as public libraries, post offices, schools, or as controversial as subsidized healthcare and welfare checks.

Or looking at issues of free speech, for example, the libertarian tradition would say that a person's right to say whatever they want should only be abridged in order to prevent harm to others (as in the case of slanderous libel, yelling "fire!" in a movie theater, or giving false credentials). But the socialist tradition would allow for infringement of free speech in order to serve the common good (as in the case of corporations not being allowed to run political ads lest the wealthy be given a free hand in trying to sway an election).

As I see it, these two great American political traditions are always coming into conflict, and always will, because the libertarian tradition is not sufficiently compassionate and the socialist tradition is not sufficiently protective of liberty—we need both, held in tension—but that means there are a lot of “grey areas” where we have to make difficult decisions about when and how much to abridge people’s rights.

So anyway, that’s basically my framework for thinking about politics … and why I don’t like the way that Republicans and Democrats (in my view) tend to overemphasize one tradition or the other as if everything were really quite black-and-white. Although in truth, there are some issues that I think are black-and-white (e.g. I think the right to free speech obviously should trump the supposed common good of attempting to prevent the wealthy from swaying elections--more on that here).

My First "Wedding"!

Wednesday night I got a call asking whether I would be available to do a wedding this Saturday. "I can't; I'm not ordained yet." "That doesn't matter; they're already married." Apparently, the couple got married two years ago, but didn't have money for a ceremony, so this now was to be the "wedding" for family and friends. But they had somehow not realized they needed to find a minister to do the ceremony for them until the big day was less than a week in the future. Amazing, isn't it?

So I got to do my first "wedding" (technically: renewal of vows ceremony). I was hesitant at first because I felt sure I did not look at all like what they thought a minister should be (too young, too short, female). But it quickly became apparent they were just grateful to have found anyone who was willing and able to do the job. And besides, I also quickly realized I could do it well. Everything ended up going smoothly, and the bride seemed sincere in her effusive thanks to me afterward, which is the most important sign of success. (They even gave me an odd sort of honorarium in the form of a Costco gift card.)

It is such an incredibly wonderful feeling to do a job that one is really trained and gifted and prepared to do. Which is not at all to say that my performance was stellar--actually, I've been thinking about the many things I could have done better--and hope to improve next time. Especially, the homily was not my best work--I thought about posting it here, but at the moment I am too embarrassed. It was the work of just a few hours, though, so I won't be too hard on myself.

Anyway, it's very exciting to think that soon I can make a career out of this whole minister/pastor thing. I really can't wait to get called to a church and start doing what I love.

John Nash: Champion of Reason

This month I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see in person a truly remarkable man and a hero of mine: Dr. John Forbes Nash, Jr.

As a teenager, I saw the film, A Beautiful Mind, and found it deeply affecting--subsequently I read Dr. Nash’s autobiographical essay and an interview with him and discovered the movie was only loosely based on his life--but the most remarkable aspects were true: he began a brilliant career, developed some extremely important new mathematical theories, then descended into severe schizophrenic illness, and after many years recovered, was awarded a Nobel Prize and is now doing serious mathematical research again.

It’s an incredible story, both because Dr. Nash is one of very few who really recover from severe mental illness, and because he demonstrates the “fine line between genius and madness.” He saw problems in a new and different way that enabled him to come up with solutions no one had thought of before--but this “strange” way of thinking devolved into insanity.

Dr. Nash came to a symposium on helping people with schizophrenia, held by Fuller’s School of Psychology, and at the closing banquet on the last day of the symposium he spoke with an interviewer. Dr. Nash is 83 now. He speaks in a soft, slow voice, and still has a “different” perspective.

The interviewing psychologist, who had helped organize the event and had given presentations himself on how professionals and communities can help people with mental illness, really wanted to talk about the importance of the support of Dr. Nash’s wife and academic community in his recovery.

Dr. Nash just sort of nodded at this, but he himself did not discuss those things at all. In speaking of his recovery, he did not mention how his devoted wife never gave up on him, nor that the community at Princeton accepted him, nor did he express any gratitude for the wonders of modern medicine. None of the interventions highlighted at the symposium figured into the way he described his recovery. Rather, he framed it as a deliberate return to rational thinking--because his delusions did not stand up in the light of careful reasoning.

When asked if his mathematical insights really came in intuitive flashes, as depicted in the film, he replied, no, breakthroughs in mathematics come the same way as in other fields: through long hours of careful research.

Dr. Nash has said the delusions came to him in the same way as his mathematical ideas--but it seems the sieve through which he discovered which ideas were dross, and which gold was the same process of deliberate intellectual discipline.

At the banquet, Dr. Nash observed there had been a lot of talk about how the mentally ill suffer--and he challenged that notion by saying he thought many in mental institutions do not want to leave--he called them “minds on strike”--refusing to do the intellectual work that is normally expected of people. I wonder how many psychologists in the room actually heard him, and how many were simply unwilling to hear a perspective so “different.”

In his autobiographical essay, Dr. Nash says that his rejection of delusional thinking “began, most recognizably, with the rejection of politically-oriented thinking as essentially a hopeless waste of intellectual effort.” I assume this is because his political thinking was stuff along the lines of “the pope and the president are plotting against me.” But it’s an interesting quote, because so much of the current political discourse on a variety of issues is indeed highly, highly irrational and yes, at times even delusional and paranoid.

How I wish that society at large would turn from its insanity and submit to the discipline of rational thinking!

In any case, it was indeed an incredible honor and thrill to see and to hear speaking in person that unusual champion and beleaguered hero of rationality, Dr. John Nash.

A Cautionary Tale

On Valentine's Day Brandon took me to the Hammer Museum to see the Van Goghs. They were stunning, as expected.

But the painting that has really stuck with me is a portrait of Miss Edith Crowe by Henri Fantin-Latour (1874).

The little blurb beside it did not discuss the painting--it just said something about how the artist, in general, tried to paint portraits of people that reflected something about their personality. Perhaps the author was hesitant to say what this portait said about Miss Crowe, because it struck them as it did me: highly unflattering.

The background is nothing but darkness, and Miss Crowe is looking determinedly away from the viewer, staring into space, with shoulders slightly hunched. I was struck with sadness that she seemed as one very carefully contained, as one deliberately withholding herself from the world with a secret rage and bitterness at those who had hurt and rejected her. Her face is carefully neutral, revealing nothing, and her hands are folded in front of her as if at once to protect herself, and to maintain an external calmness.

Probably others viewing the same portrait have a different interpretation of Miss Crowe. She could alternatively be read as merely the quiet, introspective type, lost in her own world. Or perhaps as one who is facing severe disappointments but has steadfastly maintained her composure. The woman herself could easily have been all of the above.

But the way she appeared to me--as one embittered, choosing isolation--reflects the "cautionary tale" I need to hear at the moment. Because at times I feel that the gifts I have to offer others are scorned, rejected, misunderstood. It's hard to put myself out there, knowing the risk--but it is a risk I must continue to take every time I feel compelled to offer my often unusual perspective. It is a risk worth taking no matter how many times I am dismissed or ignored or even attacked, because I do not want to become a bitter hermit.

And I will try to become better myself at listening to others, accepting and affirming whatever they have to say and to offer of themselves. It is an immeasurable loss when any person withdraws from others because they have been hurt and rejected. And it happens all too often.

"Lord, I want to be more loving in my heart ... "

[The photo comes from the Hammer Museum website]