The image above was created last winter and I recently stumbled upon it, thanks to the reminder of “one year ago today” on social media.
I like this image. It is fun. And I thought I need to use it with a writing of some sort.
Today, what I want to express seems to oddly fit with this image.
__________
This image was created in some moment of both solitude and joy – as I recall, it was a cold day and I had work clothes on (which included a flowered top a friend in Alabama had made me) as I usually do throughout the week. I needed to go outside for something – possibly feeding the goats I used to have – and I grabbed a flannel shirt and a scarf given to me by a friend (it has a pattern on it I wouldn’t have gravitated to in a store, but I keep it because it reminds me of her) and just threw it on.
Very practical, very quick…but of course…then I paused a moment to consider my attire! And with that, it seemed deserving of a quick artistic photo-op.
(Freedom)
Janis Joplin
“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose…”
This morning I was thinking about prisons. The kind we carve and fortify for ourselves. The hells and miseries we create for ourselves and refuse to leave even when the door stands open, beckoning us to new life.
Many know what Stockholm Syndrome is.
It is when one has been held captive so long that when the prison doors go open, they (more than willingly) stay inside, rather than exit. It is simply more comfortable for them to remain in their torment, formed by others for them or enhanced by their own industrious efforts.
Exiting would take some work. It would require something from them. And perhaps, they feel so daunted by the task of continuing to carve out and justify their imprisoned condition, they simply can’t add another heavy task to their to-do’s…
It might even require them grabbing the nearest flannel shirt and mis-matched scarf on their way out…
Or, like the Father in the parable of the Lost Son, metaphorically running to greet themselves, so-to-speak,in some unusual reversal of Jesus-directed-self-care, self-love and finding and embracing one’s own self…
and it might require them to run.
Making a spectacle of themselves in the most undignified way…
The story of the Exodus from Egypt is, arguably, the basis of one of the most basic major themes of the Bible.
To ignore the message of the Exodus, is to ignore the gift of God and to push away the Christ.
At least, in my view.
In Exodus, the people of God fled in haste. They metaphorically grabbed the nearest mis-matched cloak and ran out into the cold (or heat), in freedom, and in hope and pursuit of new life, through a door carved before them made of walls of water, being held up by an invisible Hand.
I often think of this story in regard to my own ongoing life and situation(s), contemplating the faith and faithfulness it took for the person who first set foot onto that sandy way set before them, with literally no where else to go.
On their backs were the speeding chariots of Pharaoh, symbolizing the relentlessness of our captors and their desire to keep bringing us back – and before them was the unknown.
I also wonder what it was like when they were in the middle of those parted waters. I can imagine the fear and terror they experienced as they pressed forward with eyes trying not to focus on those huge, deadly walls of waters that might come crashing back over them at any moment.
Just as easily as they miraculously parted.
In Ephesians 4 it mentions, as I read it, that Jesus descended into the prison and when he came out, he led forth a train of captives, and gave gifts. That chapter goes on to speak of being darkened in one’s understandings. And this make me think of scales upon eyes, as Paul had, when we, too, have scales upon our eyes that prevent us from seeing any way forward out of our prison.
“When he ascended to the heights,
he led a crowd of captives
and gave gifts to his people.”
~Ephesians 4:7
There is a song I like called People Get Ready, which just came to mind as I write.
I once heard a talk about two ways to view the world: An eye full of light and an eye full of darkness.
To the original hearers, the references, in particular to the year of jubilee, would have been clear. The two ways of looking at the world are: the world is a generous place and one should flow in that generosity, or the world is a place of scarcity and one should make sure that there is enough of the pie left for them.
To the person who lives within the prison of scarcity, giving a slice of the metaphorical pie to God or to others, means having less left for them. But the point is made that you can’t divide in the infinite, the Divine…the love, generosity and gifts of God.
The point is made in this talk, directly or indirectly, that the kind of universe we live in, and the Creator with which we are dealing with, is a place and a Person of infinite generosity and lovingkindesses (my paraphrase, of course).
To see the world as anything otherwise is to have an eye full of darkness.
This person is not a deep nor generous giver, but rather, a fearful person. Therefore, they inadvertently stand as a blockage to the flow back to themselves of love and generosity, and Light. So much so that even when others pour generous amounts of love towards them, they cannot receive. And, sadly, it is never enough.
Like one with some disease of malabsorption, they are ever-feasting, even seemingly on the things of God, yet never receiving nor benefiting from the wealth of rich nutrients, able to provide the inward strength for them to exit their prison cell and walk, steadily (though of course with expected difficulty) in the Light and Love of God, and in particular, the Freedom that is found in Jesus, the Christ.
Standing squarely and firmly in the middle of the generous flow and gifts of God – the flow of joy and freedom -like a solid statue they stand intent (likely unknowingly and blindly) on prohibiting the jubilee to come either to them, and sadly, many times, to others.
They seemingly, neither sow nor reap the seeds and harvest of God’s generosity, joy and lovingkindnesses to themselves, nor are a free-flowing vessel to others.
While I hate to quote biblical texts that come to mind that might be further guilt-and-shame producing to the one whom is already overwraught within the lonely and painful captivity of their own harsh inner critic and judgements, perhaps, this is needful.
“Jesus said, “If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains.” – John 9:41
That is, in them is fulfilled the prophecy of Yesha‘yahu which says,
‘You will keep on hearing but never understand,
and keep on seeing but never perceive,
because the heart of this people has become dull —
with their ears they barely hear,
and their eyes they have closed,
so as not to see with their eyes,
hear with their ears,
understand with their heart,
and do t’shuvah,
so that I could heal them.’
– Matthew 13:14-16 CJB
Again, I return in my thinking to the story of the Exodus, where God’s people wandered in dry and (seemingly) impoverished places for forty-years when they were not far from the Promised Land, and references found in other texts and Psalms about the stiff-neckedness of these people.
I don’t know…I’m thinking maybe they needed a spotted scarf around their stiff neck, or some similar attire!!!
In my world, the ability to lighten up and laugh at one’s self,
or the unusual situations we find ourselves in,is a gift of God.
I also have listened to various talks/books surrounding the idea that “hell is being at the party and hating it.”
Because, what is more hellish than that?
This idea/observation sprung from an analysis of the parable of the lost son. The older son viewed the world as a place of scarcity, in a sense, and the Father’s extravagant banquet thrown upon the return of the younger wayward brother, who had miraculously resurfaced when all hopes for his life were lost, the father believing him for dead, after eating vomit, so-to-speak, which in this case were the leftovers of swine in some foreign land.
Proverbs says that some are like dogs that return to their own vomit, but it seems to me in this story, the good seeds equally planted in both sons were shown here in somewhat of an illustration we find in the parable of the sower and the seeds.
Though the soil of the younger son did in fact involve a season of leaving, the return of the lost son to his father’s house teaches us that there was good soil in his heart, regardless of whatever prompted his wandering and indiscretions (in the story, this young son leaves for the proverbial wine, women and song…and squanders the precious wealth given to him by his father for things that will not satisfy, nor heal, his soul).
I see quite an easy and straight-forward link here, too, to the parable of the unmerciful servant and the parable of the vineyard. (I also think the parable of the talents is interrelated). Once again, the same speaker I have listened to at times has some interesting analyses of these teachings of Jesus, as I have linked. I wonder, today, what if sometimes we are the unmerciful servant – not only to others – but to our own selves.
But back to the parable of the lost son.
The Father tells the older son, that he had “always been with him” and “all he had was always his” – but, regarding the younger, the son who was lost (and knew he was lost) and then found, returning home, that “we must celebrate!”
As I contemplate this story or parable, I hear a compelling case for extravagant celebration of the eternal life and joy of God, that begins in his unshakeable Kingdom in the here-and-now, as well as in the somewhat unknown eternity (in its specifics, nature and spiritual and/or physicality of location, being outside of temporal space and time and all that we currently know, being seen as through a darkened glass, or veil, of sorts…)and all that God has prepared for those who love Him.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly;
but then face to face:
now I know in part;
but then shall I know even as also I am known.“
~I Corinthians 13:12
How sad for the one who, because they cannot celebrate and receive the joys of this temporal life and world, to possibly find themselves at some heavenly party through faith in the Christ, still sitting at a huge banquet and extravagant celebration, alongside the less faithful, still unable to enter in to the goal and reward of their faith, and earnest faithfulness.
I pause a moment to connect my attire in this photo and link these ideas, for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. If I could attend such a metaphorical celebration, surely this is the fitting attire!
(Dignity)
“You may indeed be too much.
And what I mean is, you just have too much to offer someone. They would need to be a strong person to receive
what you have to give.”
~the words of a friend to me
I think of another story that springs from a concentration camp. In this true account, Allied soldiers went in to the Bergen-Belsen prison camp upon the fall of the Third Reich and found emaciated prisoners wandering. Humans literally starved and methodically brutalized and dehumanized.
The soldiers had no food to give them, but they did have a supply of tubes of lipstick. I found this a curiosity – why would soldiers be carrying vast quantities of lipstick?
Well, apparently because it was something sort of “shiny” they could have on-hand to gift European women, during their down times.
Powerless to make any immediate, meaningful difference in the horrific scenario they found themselves in, the soldiers began distributing the lipstick to the women prisoners. And these emaciated-near-corpses of Jewish women began smearing it on their lips and faces. Apparently, the soldiers found that they had made both a meaningful and unusual and unexpected, difference…
Because, as the author who used this illustration had said in the above-referenced book, “sometimes the difference between heaven and hell is a little lipstick.”
The topic of what it means to reject the gift(s) of God
is a huge one.
I’m not sure I can give it the time it deserves here in this piece, from my own small contemplations and observations.
The only thoughts I might suggest at the moment come from the book of Job. When Job had experienced the full rock bottom of his seemingly God-approved sufferings, perhaps at this moment, had suffering truly done its work in him?
I don’t know. This OT book is replete with deeply human and deeply theological questions and understanding gaps of many sorts.
~Where was God?
~Was God absent, or was God present?
~Where was the evil one?
Apparently, very present?
~Where were others to comfort Job?
Apparently, at least at first, very present, but not very consoling.
~Why? Why did all this happen to Job?
~And, what is the point of this story, for us, today?
It is hard for me to fully see a good takeaway that after wave upon wave of sufferings and devastating losses and blows – that somehow the losses of his children and his fortunes could find meaningful replacement and the “shalom” of Job’s world restored.
I once listened to a translation of Job that included emphasis on while Job was still reeling from the most recent blow, yet another servant-messenger arrived telling him even more bad news.
I think we can all relate to seasons where this seems to be true. Things just go from bad to worse and we reel from it all.
But what of the one who seems to never find
the joy or presence of God,
even when (or especially when) they speak regularly of God?
For this precious child of God, unlike being found in the cleft of the Rock, a place of security, strength and unshakeable joy, experiencing God’s presence even in His absence, instead they find themselves trapped within another cleft.
This would be the cleft of some perfectly formed personal prison. And what makes this prison so very hellish is that they remain inside, with chains broken, door open, despising their life and watching those outside with something somewhere between skepticism and disdain.
I suppose that is the mystery and hard-to-understand part of the book of Job.
Job Speaks (Chapter 3)
After this, Job opened his mouth and
cursed the day of his birth.
He said:
“May the day of my birth perish,
and the night that said, ‘A boy is conceived!’
That day—may it turn to darkness;
may God above not care about it;
may no light shine on it.
May gloom and utter darkness claim it once more;
may a cloud settle over it;
may blackness overwhelm it.
That night—may thick darkness seize it;
may it not be included among the days of the year
nor be entered in any of the months.
May that night be barren;
may no shout of joy be heard in it.
May those who curse days curse that day,
those who are ready to rouse Leviathan.
May its morning stars become dark;
may it wait for daylight in vain
and not see the first rays of dawn,
for it did not shut the doors of the womb on me
to hide trouble from my eyes.
“Why did I not perish at birth,
and die as I came from the womb?
Why were there knees to receive me
and breasts that I might be nursed?
For now I would be lying down in peace;
I would be asleep and at rest
with kings and rulers of the earth,
who built for themselves places now lying in ruins,
with princes who had gold,
who filled their houses with silver.
Or why was I not hidden away in the ground
like a stillborn child,
like an infant who never saw the light of day?
There the wicked cease from turmoil,
and there the weary are at rest.
Captives also enjoy their ease;
they no longer hear the slave driver’s shout.
The small and the great are there,
and the slaves are freed from their owners.
“Why is light given to those in misery,
and life to the bitter of soul,
to those who long for death that does not come,
who search for it more than for hidden treasure,
who are filled with gladness
and rejoice when they reach the grave?
Why is life given to a man
whose way is hidden,
whom God has hedged in?
For sighing has become my daily food;
my groans pour out like water.
What I feared has come upon me;
what I dreaded has happened to me.
I have no peace, no quietness;
I have no rest, but only turmoil.”
~Job 3
When I read this passage, the most heart-breaking part is this expressed idea:
“Why were there knees to receive me
and breasts that I might be nursed?“
I admit, there have been moments in my life where I was brought so low, I have opened my Bible to this text, and for that moment or season, embraced it into my soul. Somehow, a strange salve or balm to the suffering and hardships of that moment…
This reference to the problematic thoughts of attachments to one’s own mother seems, coupled with a sense of deep hopelessness and self-rejection, in my mind, somehow connected to yet other readings and thoughts about God that I’ve encountered. I have referenced the God Your Mother poem previously, and will do it again.
“To be a mother is to be accused of sentimentality one moment,
And injustice the next.
To be the Receiver of endless demands,
Absorber of perpetual complaints,
Reckoner of bottomless needs.”
~’GOD YOUR MOTHER” BY ALLISON WOODARD
The idea that the person caught in this personal prison, in part of their own making and cleaving to, has bottomless needs. In Job, he speaks, and God does hear. God is listening, and likely, others, too, however imperfectly.
God is, in fact, present (and, listening, too) though Job possibly and fully believes in God’s absence.
(And following this, God, shockingly and jarringly, breaks His silence to Job).
Why else would Job voice either his truest, deepest thoughts about his life and situation, or, would have become so deeply crushed and broken as to utter this seeming lack of faith and faithfulness?
In this, Job’s utter despair and transparency (heard in full display through this soliloquy of sorts) would seemingly prove that he had in fact, become broken by the temptor, or Satan, as we are told at the beginning of this terrible story of God giving His permission for this scourging of Job.
“One day the angels came
to present themselves before the Lord,
and Satan also came with them.
The Lord said to Satan, “Where have you come from?”
Satan answered the Lord,
“From roaming throughout the earth,
going back and forth on it.”
Then the Lord said to Satan,
“Have you considered my servant Job?
There is no one on earth like him;
he is blameless and upright,
a man who fears God and shuns evil.”
“Does Job fear God for nothing?” Satan replied.
“Have you not put a hedge around him and his household
and everything he has?
You have blessed the work of his hands,
so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land.
But now stretch out your hand and strike everything he has,
and he will surely curse you to your face.”
The Lord said to Satan, “Very well, then, everything he has
is in your power, but on the man himself do not lay a finger.”
Then Satan went out from the presence of the Lord.”
~Job 1:6-12
I know my contemplations here are a bit all over the place…some will follow, deeply understanding, and to others it will sound as gibberish:
Both non-sense and non-sensical.
__________
I took an enneagram test this morning – a friend had suggested I do this. I’m still trying to access my test results, but, toward the end was a section on love languages and relationship questions. I believe I checked off every item positively (and all of these were signs of a healthy person, capable of both giving and receiving love) except one.
And this one, prompted me to write this, and to utilized my mismatched attire image!
The question was
“I need/want help with personal grooming/care.”
Ha!
Definitely not. (I thought, with amusement…)
At least, not now and hopefully never. I’m the kind of person, clearly, who could easily care for others, even to my own detriment. And “ain’t no one going to tell me how to dress!” ha ha ha…
Whatever has formed me this way, I can only speculate!
Embracing the affirmation of Jesus in the face of perceived and/or actual rejections/devaluations of others can be daunting work for me
I’ve had two friends now send me this chicken hat meme (below) in the past year, on separate occasions.
I really think that as I continue walking out of the rocky cleft of my personal prison into the Light,
I really need to add a chicken hat to my careless attire!
“And ye, beneath life’s crushing load,
whose forms are bending low,
who toil along the climbing way
with painful steps and slow,
look now! for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
and hear the angels sing!”
~from “it came upon a midnight clear”
Thank You For Reading
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