A quick funny

I was behind a maroon Mercury Sable yesterday with a license plate holder that read, "It's red, it's fast, and it's all mine." This was REAL funny to me.

stories from planes, trains, and automobiles (minus the trains)

I was flying back to Seattle a couple days ago with a layover in Chicago. I always love looking out the window during the descent, and I happened to have a window seat during this flight. We were flying over a Chicago suburb, and based on my extensive time being on the ground rather than in the air, I could tell that the houses we were flying over were enormous and beautiful and expensive. Yet, from so far up, they just looked silly.

****

In Seattle, some members of the homeless population sell a mini-newspaper called Real Change for $1 a pop. The proceeds go toward helping them get back on their feet. I was driving home from Trader Joe's on Wednesday night, and a man was selling copies of Real Change under the bridge. I was stopped at the red light as he paced by all our cars flashing his papers. As he approached my car, I rolled down my window and told him I was sorry but I didn't have any cash with me. Then he handed me a copy anyway and said, "Here. It's on me tonight." I don't have words to describe that man's gift and the way it blessed and humbled me, but I would confidently say that that man is great in the Kingdom of God. For he had little and gave much.

I'm white... so what?

I have more privilege than I realize... I'm starting to realize.

I mean, really the only thing I don't have going for me is being a man. Other than that, I'm about as privileged as they come. I'm white. I'm upper-middle class. I'm American. I'm straight. I'm a Christian. I have a college degree. I'm working on another degree. I have a great family who is also all of these things.

I think this realization comes with responsibility, but I'm still figuring out what that responsibility is (and I'm guessing that this is a process that will last a lifetime). I have all this privilege, but I don't know what to make of it or what to do with it. Most of the time, I don't even see that it's there. But it always is.

When I first started to really grasp that other people don't have all the advantages that I do I felt angry and guilty. I wanted to lash out against the man. Part of me hated my privilege. All the sudden my advantages felt like an unbearable, ugly burden. I know how ridiculous and infuriating this might sound to someone who doesn't have my advantages, but it's how I felt. More than anything, it was guilt, and that guilt was rooted in a strange sort of self-absorption.

I've come to find that feeling guilty about my privilege doesn't help the underprivileged at all; it just gives me a reason to feel sorry for myself and then feel high and mighty for being sorry. So instead, I think our privilege comes with a responsibility.

This is where it gets sticky for me. How am I supposed to responsibly use my privilege?

I read a book a while back called Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire. About 2/3 of the the book went over my head, but the fraction that I did understand has stuck with me. Freire talks a great deal about the need to join the oppressed in their struggle. When we work for the marginalized instead of alongside them, we further their oppression. We may have the best of intentions for these people, fighting for them to have (what we think is) a better life. But if we go over them in this pursuit, we're no different from their oppressors. We're just more privileged people who have treated them as sub-humans. We don't need to be "a voice for the voiceless," because there's no such thing as "the voiceless." Rather, we should be a voice alongside the unheard.

So I guess I do know what to do with my privilege in abstract terms: stand with the oppressed. I just have a hard time figuring out what that practically means.

I'm working on it though. In many ways I still don't understand my privilege or know what to make of it, but I hope I do more than just write about it from my laptop in my warm bed.

Some things I'd really like to see make a comeback

• Puff paint
  
• L.A. Lights shoes... you know, the ones that light up every time you take a step. I thought I was the bomb because of those shoes, circa 1994.
• Calling things "the bomb"
• Singled Out
• Legends of the Hidden Temple
  
• Flintstones Push-up pops, orange flavor
  
• The phrase, "You go, girl!"
• Snap bracelets
• Commercials for Pizza Hut stuffed-crust pizza... I don't actually want to eat one of these pizzas; I just miss seeing Pizza Hut advertise them like crazy.
• Raising the Roof

I'm sure there are many more. This is a "to be continued" kind of list...

The Silver Rule

I tend to think that everyone is a lot like me. People think the same way I do, feel the same way I do, and experience the world around them the same way I do. But it's not true. And I'm finding that maybe the golden rule isn't so golden. It's not a bad rule by any means, but maybe it's more of a silver or bronze rule than a golden one. Rather than treating people the way I want to be treated, perhaps I should I consider how they want to be treated.

I've been really obsessed with the Myers Briggs personality indicator over the past several months. In my dream world I would be able to have a conversation with a person and peg their 4 letters. Actually, that happened recently. But only once, and my excitement about was far beyond reasonable.

I'm the ENFJ poster child. If you ever want to understand me, read this: http://www.personalitypage.com/ENFJ.html

There are a few reasons I think I love reading about my Myers Briggs so much. Self-absorption is part of it. Everyone likes to talk about him/herself, but even more, everyone likes to hear someone else talk about them. Secondly, Myers Briggs has managed to reconcile the seemingly contradictory parts of my personality. I'm free-spirited, but I have a list for nearly everything. I make major life decisions on a hunch but I also make my bed every morning. I get stressed out if I can't find a specific pen for my journal, but I'm almost always up for a spontaneous, middle-of-the-night road trip. Somehow Myers Briggs has solved my mutant personality with a four-part letter combination.

I don't think it has to be all selfish though. In fact, in many ways, I think that learning more about who I am has ushered me into being more respectful and appreciate of who others are.

Knowing that I am an F (feeler), I can see the T (thinker) in others and appreciate it. These people aren't insensitive; they just don't make their decisions in the same manner I do. In fact, I find that I'm very much drawn to thinkers, because they offer a different (and often deeper) perspective than my natural inclination. Sometimes I wish I was a T, but then my F kicks in and I'm glad that I'm not.

Similarly, realizing my extreme E (extrovert), I can value the I (introvert) of other people. I get depressed if I spend too much time alone, but for others, they can only spend so much time around people before they need a break. In light of this realization, I'm more inclined to respect other people's needs and also not get upset if I spend a Friday night on my own.

Myers Brigg has also pointed out several of my flaws. When I see them and try to fix them, I trust that the people around me benefit too... at least I hope that's the case.

So all this to say, I'm not convinced of the alleged "golden" rule. Instead, I'm trying to figure out how others want to be treated, even if it's completely different from the way I would want to be treated. It's tough, but then I imagine if we were all ENFJs... we'd have fun for a few minutes, but then we'd all drive each other nuts.


Here's a link to a free Myers Briggs test: http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp

It's a long story...

No, actually it's not a long story. It's just a story you don't want to tell me.

Have you ever had someone, after saying, "Oh, it's a looong story," change their mind and decide to tell you said story? It's never long! It's just personal, and perhaps incriminating.

I'm going to start calling people out on this one. You should join me; it's going to be a load of fun!

Thoughts on Lent

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?"
- Kahil Gibran, The Prophet


Growing up in the So-Bap church I missed out on some really great stuff, including trick-or-treating, Harry Potter, beer, and liturgy. I'll save hops and Halloween for another day. Until then, let's talk about Lent.

It's only been in the past few years that I've thought about Lent, and it's been especially meaningful this time around. I attended an Ash Wednesday service a couple of weeks ago that profoundly affected me. It's a funny thing, isn't it? Why would we possibly want to celebrate death, remembering, "From dust we came, and to dust we will return"? It's morbid and weird, something to be ignored so that we can get on with our lives. If we remember our finiteness as humanity, won't we also remember our limitations in saving the world? What will we possibly do if we can't turn the world upside down for Jesus?!

Well, I'm beginning to think that maybe I'm not supposed to be the world's savior. It turns out someone already did that, and he just so happens to be the reason we celebrate Lent in the first place. I wonder what might happen if we stopped trying to be the saviors and instead, we took time to find what Jesus is already saving, and then joined in that. I think we feel more comfortable being the saviors though. If I'm the savior, I call the shots, and I get the credit. But when we acknowledge our extreme limits and submit to Jesus, it's not about us anymore. And even more difficult, we don't get to hide from the world's pain and suffering.

Paul tells us that in order to share in Christ's glory we must also share in his suffering (Rom 8:17). Jesus tells us to take up our cross (Luke 9:23). Well, that's anything but appealing. Why would anyone choose suffering for himself? What sort of masochistic faith are we a part of?

I have a hard time with this, but the ironic thing I've found is that the more deeply I enter into the world's suffering, the more deeply I experience life. I've recently had the privilege of sharing the burdens of several other people whose problems are more than I can imagine. Often, I want to run. I think of countless reasons to turn around and plug my ears. I come up with endless excuses of why I'm unable to engage. I don't want to feel the weight; it's just too heavy. It's hard and it's exhausting to sit in brokenness without answers, but now that I've known it, I can't seem to experience life apart from it.

When we can't fix the problems, we have no choice but to depend on Jesus. We don't get to merely think anymore; we have to feel. But in the depths of the messiness, we somehow find hope. We mysteriously come closer to being what God has created us to be.

I think this is what Lent is all about. It's a beautiful, sacred place of weakness. I'm reminded that I am a limited person, but I serve a limitless, eternal God. My life only can achieve so much, but I trust in the One who has achieved all things. And so we wait. We embrace our limits and hope for more.

I wonder... if we don't know, experience, and embrace brokenness, inadequacy, finiteness, and death, then how can we possibly know, experience, and embrace fullness, life, hope and resurrection?