the weight of doubt, part II

as i stare at the backside of a familiar door, i see its knob turn, the hinges creek, and once halfway open, i greet a close friend as he walks past the door into the room. i’ve had many intelligent and enlightening conversations over the years with this guy, in this very room--conversations that have shaped our beliefs and our behaviors, conversations that have sent us many years down roads that are we are still traveling--and in this sense, this room is like a sacred swamp.

i've noticed that most theological discussions take the form of a tennis match; when it is one person’s turn to discuss a topic, he tosses his opinion high above his head, and right at the peak of its intellectual height, the opinion is sent hurling through the air into the court of the other in a way that (ideally) makes it impossible to interact with. i enjoy playing tennis and the truth is, i can compete at a relatively high skill level. i’ve played tennis with this friend before. we’ve both won our share of games and have had a colorful history of competition; but these days, i’ve more or less retired my racket. when you hit someone in the face or the crotch with a powerful volley shot, it can be pretty amusing at first. but after repeated occurrences, if you care at all for your friend/competitor, you’ll find yourself wishing there were a better way to prove/win the point. there is plenty i don't know about tennis, but of this i am certain: no one likes to get hit in the crotch.

i would prefer my theological discussions with others to look more like a game of chess; but instead of aiming to put the other into intellectual check, i’d rather move the pieces around the board and talk about why things are playing out the way they are. if the result of careful reasoning and conflicting paradigms is a checkmate in the discussion, the defeat is highly significant as an observation but pretty frustrating and isolating as a value statement.

though i prefer to play chess with my friend, he brought his racket with him today and he enters the room with one hell of a serve. i scramble for my racket and begin a match that i quickly see is shaking my Faith in no uncertain terms. i find myself returning balls that i never knew i had the skills for and for a while i succeed in deflecting the competition. but my friend has been training hard for this encounter and by mid-match i am on my heals more than my toes. i marvel at his new strokes and wonder what it would feel like to hit a ball the way he is. the game offers no sign of relent and i begin to accept that this theological competition is going to result in either a loss for me, or, at best, a draw. but a draw at tennis with this particular friend is more of a victory for him than anything… tennis isn’t even his sport of choice. as we continue our athletic dialogue, i grow spiritually fatigued and feel increasingly ill-equipped for the match. i start to notice how hard it is for me to breathe and maneuver around the court, so in desperation, i ask my friend if we could pick this game up at a later time. he agrees to let the game go unfinished, but as he exits the room, we both know that he is leaving “the victor”. once he has shut the door, i am reminded why i had meant to retire my racket.

it seems like everybody these days are up for an evenly matched competition of convictions, but all i can think about is how nice it would be to take the court with someone interested in just hitting the ball back and forth for the sake of exercise and enjoying one another’s company. and should the casual banter degrade to the desire to win, then both would readily acknowledge the sentiment, put down their rackets, and go grab a drink or a bite together. there is something eternally significant about drink and food shared among friends.

with my friend out of the room, the ceiling begins to weigh down on me, descnending in a way that is easier felt than seen. once again, i am aware of my shallow, constricted breathing.

and as i look again at the backside of a familiar door, i see a missed meal at the expense of theological athletics, and i begin to weep.

the weight of doubt, part I

nothing about this room appeals to me. it is a room where my thoughts race, my emotions soar, and my soul constricts. there is the illusion of life and possibility of enlightenment in this room, but to breathe this stale air is more of a gasping than it is breathing. i think my apathy towards this room is counterbalanced by its familiarity… there is something about the commonplace that allows people to overlook most anything, no matter how horrible and stifling it may be. there is an amazing sense of security in the familiar.

this room has no windows, no art on the walls, no furniture for lounging, no color in and of itself (only what others bring into the room with them). there is a door, a cement slab as flooring, and a dullness of a haze that allows me to distinguish the dimensions of the room and of my body. this is a familiar room, but i have no desire to be here… it is a place that i never seek out but end up in all the same. if i could find a way to barricade the door to this room from the outside, making it near impossible to return--somehow, i would manage to transport myself back in to this place but with the new task of clawing through the backside of a well-intentioned barricade to get out again.

this room is a prison, a cranny of hell, a shelter of doubt teetering towards spiritual collapse. nothing about this room appeals to me, but i am here all the same--unspeakably overwhelmed and...

alone.

a helpful distinction

for those of you who will be visiting my blog for the sole purpose of getting updates on Sweden stuff, I've decided to tag each post in reference to Sweden with "(SWE)" following the particular post's title. for example, i added "(SWE)" to the first post in regard to Sweden, formerly entitled "and so it begins!" (see below).

i hope this will help some of you who don't want to sift through long paragraphs of my personal reflections (like the next couple i intend on posting) to see if it has anything to do with Sweden.

=)

and so it begins! (SWE)

if this is the first time that you have visited my blog, you probably were the recipient of a informative/support letter, am i correct? (if not, thanks for coming... you are welcome here!) thank you for visiting my blogspot... this will be one of the ways i can keep you all updated on recent events regarding Sweden as well as a virtual canvas for me to scribble down personal reflections, struggles, and the like. on that note, as you read this post, my passport and application for temporary residence in Sweden are somewhere in a pile of paperwork sitting on the consulate general of Sweden' desk in Los Angeles, CA. simply put, this person has the final say as to whether or not i will be able to go over to Sweden in february. i would greatly appreciate your prayers in this matter: that the application process would go smoothly and quickly! thank you for your support... i'll keep you posted on any news!