tension in between...

there is tension in life, in which we must learn to live...

elizabeth and i live in an apartment at the seminary. the building in which we live is one of three buildings that form a square with a courtyard in the middle. roads run parallel to each of the four sides of this complex. our apartment sits right in the middle of (what I consider) the back building of the complex. since there are apartments on our left and right, we only have windows on two sides of our apartment, half looking into the courtyard and half looking into the neighborhood that lies behind the seminary – and let’s just say that this neighborhood is not what I would consider upper-class.

i recently became aware of the importance of the positioning of our humble abode. monastics (called anchorites from the greek, anachoreo, to withdraw to a place apart), who started appearing in the first few centuries after the start of christianity, began withdrawing from society to devote themselves entirely to contemplation and prayer. eugene peterson describes the living situation of anchorites, who “often lived in sheds fastened to the walls of the church” and sometimes had a “world-side window through which the nun or monk received the sights and sounds of creation as data for contemplation.” these sheds were called anchorholds. our anchorhold has some world-side windows. i have been quite amazed at what i see on this side of the apartment. there is a house that is directly behind our apartment that is home to a group of men (these guys are not simply roommates, if you catch my drift). the road that lies only feet from our apartment is more like an alleyway, and being in such a great neighborhood, you can imagine some of the stories we have heard about as to what has gone on back there (rest assured, we are very safe!). the most interesting characters with the most colorful language walk this street at all hours of the day and night, sometimes stopping to hang out just outside our living room windows. their conversations tear at my heart (although not like the conversations I have heard on the bus – that is another blog).

this is quite different from the life outside the other end of our apartment. these windows look out on the center of the gated holy fortress we live in. recently, i have felt that our complex resembles some ancient near eastern cities in israel, which had city walls that enclosed and fortified these cities. peoples’ homes were built right into these city walls, so half of their windows looked out at the land surrounding the city. this served for security purposes (see joshua 2 – the story of rahab). life in our fortified city is a utopia. christians (all of which are ministers and middle to upper class) live all around us. we sit out in the courtyard, relaxing, chatting, enjoying life. We talk about what we are learning in all of our classes and discuss the material. We grill delicious, plentiful meals and eat as a community. Often, there are children out there playing and laughing, safe inside the fortress.

interestingly enough, most of my best time (and much more of my time) is spent on the world-side, sitting on the back porch just watching and listening (and occasionally studying, eating, and talking on the phone). there are birds and squirrels out on this side, which are living playfully and talking with one another. the “guys” have some dogs that they bring out a few times a day to walk, which I have grown quite fond of. a cat, which reminds me of our stray pet back in starkville, comes by almost everyday, and she even came up on the porch to say hello the other day. no animals live in the gates of the fortress. it is too enclosed. the harsh realities of the world live outside the walls of the fortress, no doubt, but it is real out there. i find inspiration there. there is a beauty with the wild-ness. there is grace in abundance. there is holiness if you just pay attention.

i think my living situation is a microcosm of the life i live. i have found this tension in my education. i have learned so many useful things here already. i think i have enough sermon ideas to last a lifetime if i can remember them all. i am learning about discipline and obedience. i am learning how to read and use scripture – how to meditate over it and allow it to speak to me. i am learning how to pray and especially how to just be quiet and allow the still small voice to speak. i am learning how to pay attention to the world around me and find the subtext. i am learning how to think and speak about god in the appropriate language. i am learning how to be grateful. i am learning what it means to be a pastor. i am learning all the correct answers, but underneath there is friction... unrest. for i have discovered there is a big difference between how it is and how it should be. i have been a christian long enough and worked in a church long enough to know that some of this stuff (while “correct”) doesn’t translate simply in a practical sense. i am tired of accepting the "correct" answers without a fight to discover the meaning and application in my everyday life. what do these things really mean? how do they really play out? what are their implications? it is easy to know what is right. we even talk like that. "oh yeah, this is what you do in that situation." we are so confident... so certain. it isn't so easy to actually apply the answers, though. the only thing that is simple and certain for me to see is that there are too many "correct" answers and not enough "correct" living. i have committed myself to a struggle which i know i will never win. nonetheless, i will fight.

i have a window looking out into the world and one looking in on the christian perfection, but I live in between. I have discovered god there.

jw <><