Some days it doesn’t feel like all the effort you do amounts to anything more than a single drop in an empty bucket. You show up the next day – there’s another drop. Eventually, you have a spoonful. Then enough to fill up a shot glass. you keep at it – day after day. It’s enough to fill up a cup. Then the cup starts running over. Slowly and surely, that bucket starts to get fuller and fuller – a quarter of the way, a third, half-way, two-thirds, three quarters. Eventually you find that you filled up that bucket, a drop at a time. Hard work and persistence won’t always earn an award, you won’t always get a trophy or ribbon. But you do get a sense of personal satisfaction that you did your best. You didn’t quit when others would have thrown in the towel. You made a difference for the better. Maybe it’ll also inspire others to match your effort and contribute to filling up that bucket faster. The problem gets smaller and things get easier on everyone. Some days it doesn’t feel like all the effort you do amounts to anything more than a single drop in an empty bucket – and that’s a challenge worth tackling head-on.
I push open these double wooden doors – they’re stained a beautiful dark rosewood. My eye is drawn to the purple carpet that marks the aisle all the way forward to a raised platform. It separates two groups of chairs. There seems to be a decidedly purple and white theme to the flower arrangements. Soon groups of people begin arriving and conversing with one another. Mostly they know each other, they all mean something to the guest of honor, and the guest of honor all mean something to them. This is a celebration.
The guest of honor is the matriarch – an older lady of average height, her short hair has a defiant red tint to it – hence her long-time nickname, “Red.” Her strong personality had developed as she conquered many obstacles in her day. As a result, her relationships could be complicated and no strangers to drama – but today is a good day and there’s no hard feelings. It’s also a miraculous day. Friends that she had long out-lived made an appearance alongside all her relatives.
Memories are being shared – some for the first time, others are being repeated much to Red’s delight. All of her favorite foods and drinks are available should anyone get hungry. I’d like to imagine laughter and delight. Everybody should be celebrated because everyone matters.
But such a celebration can never be. My grandmother has died. We found out on Christmas day that things weren’t looking so good. I asked for some time off the next day – but had to work my shift that evening. Some time in the middle of the night or the next morning – I’m not sure which, she stopped breathing. I’m not at all sure how to process it. Could I have insisted that I couldn’t work my shift so that my family could leave immediately and have a chance of meeting her while she was still alive? My only comfort is knowing that in many cases, despite hours of waiting alongside an ailing relative, they tend to like to pass away when the visiting hours are done and others aren’t around – so says the internet anyway.
I wish I knew where her obituary was – so I could read a little more about her. I wish I had bothered to actually call her every now and then just to talk a little.
For those who know my grandmother, her strong personality made for complicated relationships – it doesn’t mean that we love her any less … it’s just not always an easy kind of love. I grew up watching these kind, sweet grandmothers on TV shows – and my own grandmother was just so different. I wished in so many ways that she was like them – and I didn’t notice that she had her own charms about her. Some of the things I admire most are that fierce independence, that no-nonsense attitude, and she knew what she liked and didn’t hesitate to make it clear.
Her name meant Shining Light, Pride/Fame/Glory, and Blessed. That she most certainly was.
Not long ago, a lot of protected land was opened up for potential development. I shook my head in disbelief when the guy said, “You know how to take care of your land.” The whole history of pollution is a testament to how little we have take care of our land.
Centralia, PA – In May of 1962, an underground coal mine has a coal seam that catchs fire from the burning of a trash dump – it’s still burning today.
Picher, OK – a former lead and zinc mining area, lots of toxic remnants were placed in heaps in the area, which in turn has polluted the water table. One study suggested that as many as 1/3 of the children in town were suffering the effects of lead poisoning. The mines themselves also pose a danger – they could collapse and the buildings above would be taken down with them.
Cuyahoga River – perhaps the most famous example; these polluted waters once caught fire.
When pollution is a factor, what comes first? Usually it’s the bottom line, the cheaper disposal method; rather than the proper, more expensive one. When the priority is putting people to work, putting any thought into pollution control seems like you’re trying to put the brakes on progress. Never mind that putting people into pollution control is also creating jobs.
The whole history of pollution shows us that we never have known the best way to take care of our land … because we didn’t do that well, it put human lives on the brink – destroying the health and vitality of some – taking the lives of others. It may be annoying that waste chemicals can’t just be dumped into our water supply or that mine remnants can’t just be dumped in huge piles all around town – that even nuclear waste has to be sealed away in very specific conditions – but it’s far better than the alternative. We might not know how best to take care of our land, but at a very high cost we have learned how not to take care of our land. Sometimes the best thing you can do for some land is to let it be at least a little wild and to leave it alone.
“C’mon, for once in your life – just come and …” my co-worker argued, trying to get me to go to a place that is most definitely not my scene to do something I probably wouldn’t enjoy.
I’ve already been too far down that road and I know how empty it is. Let’s say, for the sake of argument – I agree. What about next time? Something else? Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course. Tell me when and where. I’m game for anything. Who do I become? Someone else I don’t even recognize.
You know, they’re never just satisfied with once. As soon as you make them happy with one thing, they’ll want something else. Ultimately, I lose any sense of self when I do what people in my life want me to do. Maybe that’s not fair, friend should enjoy doing the same sort of activities – but why do they always have to pick things that they know full well are outside of my comfort zone?
I used to never say no and whatever my friends wanted, I saw it got done. From getting drinks to casting out a member of the group – I did whatever it took to make them happy hoping that I’d never be the one on the outside. Whatever my friends liked, I absoultely adored. Whatever my friends hated, I hated with a passion. Ultimately though, that strategy didn’t keep them. It proved a failure. So I somehow or other learned to say no. Admittedly, it’s not hard when they choose things that just don’t work for you.
Now I pretty much never say yes – at least I’m a lot stronger than I used to be. Maybe it’s not too late for me to learn some balance, to throw in some yesses in there – but only if they are things that are within reason.
I’m a cashier. It’s not a glamorous or well-paying job, but it’s the best I can do right now. I’m also multi-lingual, I enjoy learning languages because I’m good at it and I enjoy speaking in other languages whenever I get the chance. I happen to be lucky enough to live where I can use two of the languages I know on a regular basis. So the other night, after I had spoken some Spanish to a Spanish-speaking customer, the next guy in line waited until the Latino was out of earshot and then informed me that while it was cool that I could speak other languages, it was not cool for the Latino to not speak English in America. Actually, he used a couple of racial slurs for Latinos and Arabs that even I will not repeat. My guess is that he was more upset that I was speaking Spanish and giving the Latino one less excuse to not learn English. The Latino though, was a repeat customer and I already knew he could speak English; in fact, his English is probably a lot better than my Spanish which needs all the practice it can get. For some odd reason, bilingualism is a threat to the English-Only Movement’s ideology that only English must be spoken in America and it must be spoken all the time. Sadly, my state is one of many with English-Only laws in effect. One lady even made the news for the racist tirade she went on while waiting in the return line at a mall:
Free speech can be painfully annoying when it grants jerks the right to say vile, hurtful, and racist remarks; but I also have the right to free speech and to speak freely in any language that I happen to speak. Maybe being multilingual has taught be a thing or two about being respectful; something that some English-only advocates could benefit from learning. What really bothers me is that the way these people speak, it’s not about patriotism, but racism. It’s the kind of racism that unfairly targets immigrants that are Arabic, Latino, and Asian while not treating European immigrants as anything dangerous or suspicious. It’s the garden-variety of racism that is skin deep when it comes right down to it. There are no shortage of rants on YouTube similar to the one above. A man interrupting a kindergarten concert to chant: “U.S.A English Only!” A profanity-laced tirade of one guy annoyed that somebody else was having a conversation in Spanish on his cell phone with his Spanish-speaking mother while waiting at the airport to catch their respective flights. Shoppers at Wal-mart insulting other shoppers who happen to speak Spanish to each other in their vicinity. A grandmother at a fast-food joint insulting a lady who speaks English with a noticeable accent. “Speak English or go home!” They all eventually say. Funny. Those were the same words their very own ancestors were screamed at when they first arrived on America’s “welcoming” shores. You know what, I think I’ll go on speaking Spanish and I’ll learn Arabic just because I can.
“You know how it is, when nobody else is giving it a hundred percent, you realize that it’s not worth it and start letting things slide.”
I blinked. I couldn’t fathom not giving it my all, my best, all the time. How you work says a lot about your character.
Perhaps the theology of work still rolls around in the back of my mind. The story of the workers in the vineyard, the parable of the talents, the verse about working as if you’re working for the Lord, and the lengthy Bible Study I did on the subject while I was in the midst of unemployment, but something in me told me that it was wrong to not work to the best of your ability.
For me, I like to be satisfied in knowing that I did the best that I could and I didn’t hold back or do half-measures. I challenge myself to do well, to do better, to work more quickly, to work accurately so that when my head hits my pillow at night, I know that I worked well.
It’s more than that. I remember watching this comedy, the story isn’t all that important, but one refrain was “Be excellent to each other.” This idea – well, it caught on and paved the way for the world to clean up it’s act and finally be at peace – plus they got good music. In a way, that’s what I believe.
It means to do your best and to treat others exceedingly well. It means to dare others to rise to the challenge of meeting their potential. It means … well, to borrow a quote from another movie:
Akeelah: [quoting Marianne Williamson] Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
Dr. Larabee: Does that mean anything to you?
Akeelah: I don’t know.
Dr. Larabee: It’s written in plain English. What does it mean?
Akeelah: That I’m not supposed to be afraid?
Dr. Larabee: Afraid of what?
Akeelah: Afraid of… me?
I think that for so long, we end up aiming for somewhere in the middle. Sure, we could do more or better if we applied ourselves, but it nobody else is, why bother? Anyone who stands out in any way seems to get too much attention, either good or bad. We don’t want that. We want to be good, but not too good. We want to do well, but not too well.
Let’s face it, people who are excellent, who choose to be the best at what they do – their effort is often rewarded. It’s not that they’ll get a plaque or trophy or bonus, as nice as that would be, but they get personal satisfaction and pride. I don’t know why you wouldn’t want that.
“Hey, I could have gotten everything done, but I choose to do only 2/3 of my work instead.”
“Hey, I could have gotten an A, but I settled for a B.”
“Hey, I could have gotten first, but I didn’t feel like it and took second.”
Pretty soon, that becomes:
“Hey, I could have gotten 2/3 of my work done, but I chose to do only half.”
“Hey, I could have gotten a B, but a C was so much less taxing.”
“Hey, I could have gotten second, but forth was easier.”
“I could have opened that door, but I didn’t feel like it.”
“I could have said something kinder, but I changed my mind.”
“I could have reached that for her, but it was funnier watching her jump for it.”
Excellence isn’t the worst thing ever. We should strive to leave mediocrity behind us.
I’ve been trying to move into a bit of a better place – not physically, but spiritually and emotionally with where I’m at on the Church issue. For the most part, my hectic schedule is set up so that I end up working on Sundays. Miraculously, I’ve gotten the last two Sunday mornings off. While I wasn’t quite feeling up to the hassle of actually going to a church, I did opt to listen in to some churches in my area with radio programs.
Last week, one radio program talked about “authorized worship”. He started off with a question: “Does the worship of God have divine regulations or can we worship Him as we please?”
He pointed to the story of Nadab and Abihu in Leviticus 10 – it’s the story of two of Aaron’s sons who offered up an incense mix other than the one God specifically outlined. They were burned to death by the Lord right on the spot.
He went on to outline the regulations of authorized worship as mentioned in John 4:
- God is to be the object of our worship.
- Our worship of God is to be in spirit; genuine and sincere – from our hearts.
- Our worship of God is to be in truth – which is the Word of God, the Bible.
He said that human traditions had a way of making void proper worship to God (Isaiah 29:13 or Matthew 15:8-9):
“These people come near to me with their mouth
and honor me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from me.
Their worship of me
is based on merely human rules they have been taught.”
This week, he identified “contemporary worship” as “unauthorized worship.”
“We like to use modern instruments and sing new songs.” A church member might say, to which he responded: “Well, did God authorize it?”
“I’m just not getting anything out of worship.” A frustrated believer might say, to which he responded: “Are you even supposed to get anything out of it?”
“We’re just not attracting new people, we need to make some changes to make the church more seeker-friendly.” Another might observe, to which he responded: “When did we get the idea that worship was about attracting the sinner?”
“We’ve lost a lot of young people, if we want to keep them around, we need to make some new changes and do things differently to keep from losing them.” Someone else points out, to which he responded: “What will you do when new and different wears off and becomes old and stale? Keep on changing things? Where will it end?”
*Frustrated sigh* it’s church leaders with this mindset that basically banished me from the church in the first place. What Contemporary worship does is align my truth and my spirit to worship God in a way that Traditional worship never did and never could. Let’s also keep in mind that in the whole history of worshiping God; the Christian expression of it is as unauthorized as you can get – being a departure from all of the Temple regulations. Do we even know whether the Protestant Reformation was authorized or not?
Even so, how most churches worship today is a departure from how churches worshiped in the Bible. For us, the Lord’s supper is a thimble of juice and an oyster cracker – for the Corinthians – it was a first-come-first-serve feast complete with drunkenness where it wasn’t uncommon for the food to run out before everybody could get something to eat.
For us, worship is what it is. For the Corinthians – they had the occasional inquirer or unbeliever come to church to see what all the fuss was. Think of them as regulars who really desire to join the church. They got to show up and participate in some aspects of worship – but as unbelievers, things like the Lord Supper wasn’t allowed for them. They would spend serious time learning the teachings of the church and if their desire to be baptized proved strong enough they would be formally admitted into the church, baptized, and given permission to take part in all aspects of worshiping God. So to a certain extent, the worship of God meant having room for unbelievers to see what they’re signing up for if they decide to seek membership.
We don’t worship like the Corinthians worshiped. Or the Galatians. Or the Ephesians – or any of the churches listed in the Bible. We don’t worship like the Early Church that formed as the members of The Way spread the teachings of their Rabbi/Messiah to all corners of the Roman Empire. And we don’t even worship in the same way that the Holy Roman Empire worshiped God. And yet you want me to believe that all those people had “unauthorized worship” just because they never had hymnals and pianos and we just happen to be the lucky souls who have “authorized worship” after millennia of everyone else getting it wrong?
So you fear change? Let me grant you your wish and show you a church where change does not happen:
This is a church that does not change. Nothing threatens what is: an unending quietness – the absence of singing, and no echoes of people taking or screaming infants. No prayers are uttered here. The Bibles and hymnals that remain are closed. There are no power grabs from upstart youth, no wielding of power from the old guard. Could you worship here? Could you be the last soul this church serves? Where there is life – there is change. The young change into the old, the new changes into the familiar, the different becomes the same. The process continues with a whole new generation taking root and thriving, creating an even newer generation that will, in time, take their place. Change is not – and never has been – the enemy. So yes, we will keep changing and keep living – and God willing, keep inhabiting our worship spaces in new and different ways that honor Him.
But let’s not underestimate how important it is to get something out of worship. Humanity has a vast difference in the expression of it’s spirituality. Everything from monotheism to polytheism, religions seeking truth, others enlightenment, others an understanding of suffering, religions with profound teachers who are revered for their teachings – we all devote a serious amount of time, energy, effort, and wealth in our search for spirituality. The something that we get out of it is what keeps us in the faith that we are in – rather than trying them all on for size. This is true of our denominations as well – the something we get out of them is why we’re apart of them and why we feel no need to go elsewhere to get it – until that something is gone. Then we must seek it out and go to where it is now. You might not even know how to articulate the something that you get out of worship – but odds are you would recognize what it’s absence would be were you in any other setting, right? That’s how it is with me and contemporary worship. I can’t tell what it is about it that works for me, but in it’s absence, traditional worship just doesn’t do the same thing. And that’s why it’s so very easy for me to continue my vacation from church because there’s nothing but traditional worship churches in my area and I know they hurt more than they help.
As to the question of authorization – it’s a false obsession in the church. Imagine a young child drawing a picture of their mommy or daddy. Will their parent be so heartless as to tear up an “unauthorized” masterpiece because they used markers instead of crayons? If God has such a need to be worshiped that he created humans with free will and boundless creativity – would it make sense for him to prohibit every single which way He could be worshiped save for one way? What about the lack of punishment for supposed violations of worship? Why aren’t contemporary churches filled with various plagues? Why aren’t bad traditional churches bursting into flames spontaneously? What if we all have authority to worship God in any and every way we can think of – even in new ways that haven’t yet been created?
What really tears me up is knowing that I’d never belong in a church where he or others like him are in charge. I’d never be able to reveal the depth of my knowledge or talk about how I feel because these things are supposedly non-essentials in the worship of God. I’d never be able to worship God according what my spirit says is the truth. I’d have to play my part and act on cue – sing this, smile warmly, silently listen – but I’d never belong or be accepted or worship in spirit and in truth. It just doesn’t seem to matter though, because as far as he and others like him are concerned – his worship is the only right worship because it satisfies his spirit and his truth and as a powerful leader in the church, he makes all the decisions for everyone else.