Sunday, June 30, 2013

The Curse of the "Friend Zone"


Cats. Cats playing piano, cats yawning, cats falling off pieces of furniture or attacking the family dog. Oh, and most famous for the last year, Grumpy Cat, along with its many cartoon and meme versions. George Takei. Photo bombs. Lots of pictures of people's babies. (Not that I have anything against babies, of course.) 

Memes on philosophy, politics, gun rights, gay rights, and a multitude of other buzzword issues, often misspelled or with bad grammar. (Always having been a stickler for spelling and grammar, I find myself frustrated when someone has expended energy to create a meme on a serious issue and failed to proofread basic English.) Somehow, a large number of these manage to use an image of Willy Wonka (the Gene Wilder version) or one of the Founding Fathers, often with some quote of Franklin or Jefferson (actual or fabricated) to back up whatever point they're trying to make.

What all of these items have in common, of course, is their frequent appearance on Facebook, the ultimate evidence that you can find just about anything on the Internet. Not everything on the Internet, of course, can be as harmless as Grumpy Cat memes.  Every once in a while we come across comments, posts, and pages on social media sites  and articles that strike us as ignorant or demeaning toward individuals or groups. 

For the last few weeks, I've been bothered by a Facebook page called “You just got Friendzoned.” For those of you who aren't familiar with the “Friend Zone,” it's when you're friends with someone and want to be in a romantic or sexual relationship with them. They don't feel the same way, but want to continue being good friends. The more deeply you are in the Friend Zone, the harder it is to “achieve” the kind of relationship you want. For most of the people who buy into its existence, being in the Friend Zone is in some ways even worse than being flat-out rejected by the object of your affections. Let's face it. Getting turned down sucks. A lot, sometimes. 

That's why it's so important to keep in mind why we should want to be in a relationship with someone in the first place:  we like them. We think they're nice, and funny, and smart. They make us happy. How easily and imperceptibly feelings of warmth and affection can be taken over by bitterness toward the situation and creeping resentment toward the other person for not wanting a romantic relationship. 

A good friendship stops being enough; we need “more.” And when things don't go our way, what we see as our failure has to be someone's fault. That's what bothers me about “You just got Friendzoned.” The page implies that there are several reasons why a romantic relationship isn't happening, and all of them place primary blame on the other person. They have emotional issues; they'd prefer to be in a relationship with “jerks”; they're too scared of ruining the friendship. An amazing relationship is right there in front of them, but they're too blind to see it. It should be a no-brainer. So “You just got Friendzoned” sends out a warning:  if you want to continue being friends with someone that likes you, you should go out with them before they start ignoring you out of frustration. The idea that there simply isn't any mutual attraction isn't even considered. 

The Facebook page is, I hope, a bit of an extreme expression of the resentment and bitter disappointment that can be generated when we place our own expectations and desires for what a relationship should be at the forefront. From unrequited romances to our interactions with family and friends, the emotions, needs, and wants of the people we claim to have feelings for often fall by the wayside. In his letter to the Philippians, the apostle Paul gives some simple advice on how we should approach our interactions:  “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” (2:3-4) When we think about it, it's so obvious that our actions and words should be centered around love for other people. Our priority should be to serve, to be what other people need us to be, rather than allowing our desire for possession and control to prevent us from being the most positive force we can be in their lives. 

This selflessness, Jesus said, is what true greatness is really about, and how the interactions of his followers should be ordered. As he explained to his disciples:  “Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave.” (Matthew 20:26-27) As usual, he didn't just teach empty words. Through his daily interactions with those who had come to be healed and taught, and in the sacrifice he made for his friends and for all generations, he's provided us with the standard for how we should try to live in this world, and with a concept of love untouched by selfish considerations. “This is how we know what love is:  Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” (1 John 3:16) That's where our concept of love should be centered. Not in how we can benefit from a situation or get what we want from the amazing people we've encountered, but in an unrestrained, Christ-like willingness to impact lives for the better.  

In order to reconfigure our love for others, we have to be vigilant, to be constantly aware of our emotions and motivations, of how our words and actions will affect those we claim to care so much about. Egotism will often creep in, preventing us from having the full and healthy relationships that God wants us to have with one another. To a lesser or greater extent, our interactions will always be marked by brokenness in this world. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. As followers of Jesus, we should strive to follow the example he's set for selflessness in our relationships. If that means we get stuck in the “Friend Zone” every once in a while, so be it. That's love. 

(There is, of course, a fine line between serving other people and being taken advantage of and trampled by them. In order to have healthy relationships with one another, things like that have to be addressed maturely. I'm hoping to write an article on reconciliation and meaningful forgiveness in our relationships in the next month or so.)

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Jesus' Death and Resurrection: A New Exodus


Toward the end of the last entry, I alluded to God's determination to perform a rescue operation to save His creation from sin and death. By Jesus' time, it had been more than five hundred years since the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem and the exile of Jacob's descendants to Assyria and Babylon. Many had returned to the Holy Land. But there were some serious problems. For one, the land continued to be under the control of various pagan empires. The days of King David and Solomon were behind them, and the future great king promised to David's lineage was nowhere to be found. Under the Romans, several “messiah” movements to restore political sovereignty had come and gone in failure. On top of that, a beautiful new Temple had been built on the site of the original one, but God's presence hadn't seemed to return with it. In short, the glorious descriptions in scripture of what would happen when the Jews returned to the land, of the ushering in of the Kingdom of God and their deliverance from the pagans, weren't yet fulfilled. 

The Old Testament prophets had spoken of this return in various ways. Ezekiel chapter 37 used graphic imagery of a valley of dry bones reanimated by the breath of God to symbolize the restoration of Israel. This revelation was interpreted by many Jews as predicting a future physical resurrection of God's people. Resurrection of the righteous (along with the wicked) at the end of days was echoed in Daniel 12:2. Jeremiah had prophesied a renewal of the covenant between God and His people, in which His Law would be engraved in their minds and hearts and their sins and wickedness forgiven. (Jer. 31:31-34). In Isaiah's vision, the return of the Jews would result in a flocking of all the nations to Zion and God's creation of a new heavens and new earth. 

According to many Jewish writers and interpreters of scripture, this re-birth wouldn't come without great distress. There was a belief that things would get much worse before they got better, that God's saving act would be ushered in only after birth pangs of increased oppression and injustice. When the Messiah arrived in Jerusalem, this worsened state of affairs would be reversed, the faithful dead would rise from their graves, and God's justice would be sovereign. Besides the crucial role of the Messiah in bringing in the “World to Come” (as Jews call it), scripture alludes to a mysterious “Suffering Servant,” who would bear the punishment for man's sin but be despised and rejected. (mainly in Isaiah 53) After being oppressed, afflicted, and “cut off from the land of the living,” he would “see the light of life and be satisfied.” (8,11) Traditionally, this figure was interpreted as representing Israel itself or a faithful remnant that would do God's will, that would offer up its life for the sins of God's lost sheep. 

Only when the problems of human sin and disobedience were dealt with, then, would God's plans for His Kingdom come to fruition. This was a task that could not be accomplished by mankind as a whole nor by God's chosen people Israel, which in spite of being given the Law and the prophets was as much in sin as the Gentiles. What was needed was a rescue mission carried out by God Himself in the form of a human being, who would experience all of the temptations and trials of the rest of mankind but would remain obedient to God. 

During his life on Earth, Jesus would take it upon himself to embody several of the prophetic “characters” that would bring in the World to Come:  the faithful Israelite, carrying out the mission of God's people to be the light of the world and a blessing for the nations; the long-awaited Messiah, God's anointed king and priest; the Son of Man predicted by Daniel, worshiped and given authority over all the nations and whose kingdom would never be destroyed; and perhaps most surprisingly to the Jews of his day, the Suffering Servant. Through his ministry, death, and resurrection, Jesus revealed   that these seemingly disparate vocations were always meant to point to one person, Jesus himself, who had come to offer eternal life, forgiveness of sins, and a place in God's renewed creation. Jesus would take all of these weighty vocations upon himself. He would come to serve rather than to be served, and experience great suffering and an excruciating death so that others could be freed. Out of divine love for us and obedience to the Father, he laid down his life and bore the punishment of the sins of the world in his flesh. (Romans 8:3)

The idea of the incarnation of God (or even one of His great prophets) dying a painful death on the cross has been a hard pill to swallow for lots of people ever since it happened. People have had thousands of years to come up with all kinds of counter-explanations of the events to avoid confronting the death of God's Son or to deny the supernatural nature of his resurrection appearances. But his death wasn't an illusion. His bodily presence on the cross was real. His suffering was real. Real, but temporary. 

And so we come to the discovery of an empty tomb, a tomb that could not hold its occupant for long. We come to the shock and joy of the grieving women, who had come to prepare Jesus' body for burial, as they receive the incredible news that Jesus had overcome death through his obedience and love. Here, the first witnesses of the Christian faith received the truth that all hope was not lost, that their teacher, Lord, and friend had defeated death for their sake and for the sake of people in all generations afterward, until he comes again in glory to receive his kingdom. We will be there on that day, bowing down to our Savior, eternally grateful for the love he showed in going to the cross, and for the faithfulness that our Father showed in raising him. 

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Jesus' Death and Resurrection: Mistake and Myth, or Divine Love?


I have few memories from my childhood. When people ask me about what I did in middle or high school, I usually respond that I can barely remember what I ate for breakfast that day, let alone events that happened a dozen years ago. Almost all of the memories I do have are quick flashes, images or conversations that stick out in my mind. One of those flashes is from a Good Friday service at my church when I was ten or eleven. After the service, when traditionally the congregants leave in silence out of respect for Jesus' sacrifice, I was waiting outside the church and heard one of the members loudly whispering to her nine year old daughter, with what looked to me like anger:  “He's dead! Jesus is dead! They killed him! It was the worst mistake he ever made!” A little extreme to say to your child after a service that many people already find depressing. God only knows why she decided to say what she did. Maybe she was having a horrible day, and the service brought out negative emotions that she had been bottling up. I hadn't learned the (generally) adult habit of judging people yet, so I continued to like her as a person and to be friends with her kids. 

But let's move beyond the questionable parenting to the actually statements she made. Even if few people would express her belief the way she did, I think many (some Christians in addition to non-Christians) view Jesus' death as either something akin to a mistake that he made, or as not actually important. The resurrection is pushed even more to the wayside, either as a figment of the grieving disciples' imaginations or as a happy ending tacked on to the end of the story. In many ways, I can understand the desire to emphasize Jesus' ethical teachings on love, forgiveness, etc. as a response to the centuries when the extreme opposite belief tended to prevail:  that individual salvation from our sin through Jesus' death is all that matters, to the near-exclusion of anything else he did or taught during his earthly ministry. 

I think there's a false separation here between what are seen as the different aspects of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection. A genuine understanding of what happened during his ministry, on the cross, and at the empty tomb can only be achieved by recognizing and constantly reminding ourselves of the glue that binds them together:  divine love. It's the love of the Creator and Sustainer of the universe, who always meant for us to be the faithful stewards of His creation, reflecting His goodness into the world for His glory. Instead, we decided that wasn't in our best interest, that our plan was better than God's plan, that we could do well enough on our own. We chose to put ourselves at the center of our universe, to seek life in a multitude of things that God had created, courting death and decay rather than depending on Him. We were enslaved to sin and death and couldn't free ourselves. What was needed wasn't human wisdom or self-help philosophies, but a drastic rescue operation by God himself. 

In spite of what my fellow church member claimed, then, Jesus' gift of self-sacrifice for our sins wasn't a mistake. It was love. And he died, but is now alive, the ultimate assurance that our future isn't death in our sin, but life in him. 

(In the next entry, I hope to discuss God's first rescue operation, the Exodus, and to stress the importance of seeing Jesus' sacrifice and resurrection within God's plans to redeem us and the rest of His creation.)

Sunday, June 9, 2013

"Has God forgotten to be gracious?"


(As it turns out, planning to finish an article on Jesus' resurrection that carefully places it in the context of God's plans for us and the whole world in one week was a bit too ambitious. These are topics that I'm extremely passionate about and will continue contemplating and working on. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the following entry on one of my favorite psalms.)

The day after I moved into a new apartment, I discovered how slippery bathtubs can be. While taking a shower in my small bathroom, I fell backwards and hit my head against a wall. It barely hurt, and I was about an inch away from hitting my head against an edge that could have seriously injured me. The very first thing I thought, which I also said aloud, was “Thank you so much, God.” I've had many similar close calls in the last few years, including a serious car malfunction while I was driving on a slow road when I had been driving on a busy, curvy road a minute before. I've chosen to believe that God has had a hand in keeping me safe, and every time something like this happens I immediately feel gratitude toward Him. “I'll never forget this moment,” I tell myself, “and will always be thankful for what You have done for me.” As time passes, though, this thought tends to wear off.

I think we can all remember at least one period of time where nothing seemed like it was going right, that there was no hope. Our problems so overwhelm our minds and emotions that they become a central part of our identity day by day. Worst case scenario, our faith is seriously damaged because of our troubles. And at the best, it can still be very difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel, persevere until things get better, and put on a brave face in front of other people as we do so. No matter how many times we tell ourselves that our attitudes will improve the more we confide and trust in God, it's hard to remember that God is still with us, taking care of us. 

As often happens, I find a new way of approaching my problems in the Book of Psalms. There is a reason why the Psalms have been so well-loved and turned to in prayer and meditation. Together, I think that these poems express the full gamut of human emotions. Because of this, they have a remarkable ability to resonate with us in so many different stages of our lives.

In the last few months, Psalm 77 has been one that I have turned to again and again. It is written from the perspective of King David during a time of great difficulty, when it seemed that the god who had helped him so often in the past had finally given him up to the wolves. A feeling of awe at the author's poetic genius and insight is inevitable whenever I read its central verse. Rhetorical accusations against God follow one after another, relentlessly. They all appear to be building up to the conclusion that, yes, God has decided to leave David on his own and take back the promises of support that He had made to him. And then, out of the resentment and hopelessness comes the last line, like an unexpected beautiful sunrise after a long, dark night.

The rest of the psalm consists of an eloquent recollection of God's loving presence in the history of the people of Israel, particularly by watching over them and taking them out of slavery in Egypt. The psalm closes not with a list of grievances against God but with His glorification for all the things He has done.

God never gives up on us. He's always there for us to call upon, and He will always answer. He does not forget to love us unconditionally, in spite of how often we may forget to keep Him at the center of our lives. When we are going through difficulties, when loss, disappointments, and a sense of powerlessness seem to be the order of the day, it may seem like God has indeed shut up His compassion from us. Joy, blessings, and successes sometimes feel like things of the past. But no, says David. God has done great things for us before, and He will continue to do so in the future. 

Were David's problems in this psalm immediately solved by his epiphany that, as much as our grief and fears may change our perspective of life, God's love for us will never change? I doubt it. But I like to think this was his starting point for a period of prayer and perseverance, of a gratitude and love toward the Lord, that would help him through his hard times. I pray that all of us can experience a similar sense of God's presence working in our lives for the good. 

(This is the central verse of Psalm 77.)
Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? 
Has His steadfast love forever ceased?
Are His promises at an end for all time? 
Has God forgotten to be gracious? 
Has He in anger shut up His compassion?”
And I say, “It is my grief that the right hand of the Most High has changed.”

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Easter: The Importance of Reading the Story Until its End

One of my favorite books growing up was The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. (SPOILER ALERT:  If you haven't read the book or seen the movie before, you might want to skip to the third paragraph.) I remember how hard I cried when I read it for the first time and realized that Aslan had decided to sacrifice himself on the Stone Table so that Edmund would live. I was inconsolable that night, knowing that the king of Narnia was dying like this. Knowing that, while Edmund would no longer be in the clutches of the White Witch, she had ultimately won. It would only be a matter of time before winter again fell over the whole of Narnia. It got to the point where I tossed the book in the corner of my bedroom, determined not to read the rest of it. But a voice in my head reminded me that the story wasn't finished. Later that night, I grabbed the book and read it till the end. It was well worth it. Within about thirty minutes, I went from feeling miserable and hopeless to feeling the kind of excitement and joy that sticks in your memory twenty years later. Aslan was alive; he was even stronger than before. As in most great stories, good wins over evil. After years of winter, Narnia was at peace, ruled by the just and wise main characters of the book. 

How different would my experience with the book have been if I had kept crying and left it in the corner of my bedroom? Perhaps a friend of mine would have told me the true ending a few years later. But the rush of positive feelings I had, and that sense of being inside the story with the characters as they realized that Aslan wasn't dead, would have been gone. I suspect CS Lewis wouldn't have become one of my favorite authors. When I was fourteen and started to read his non-fiction books, I discovered that much of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was a Christian allegory, with Aslan representing God/Jesus and the White Witch representing evil/Satan. What would happen if we were to reach Jesus' death on the cross, the sacrifice that he made for our sins, and close our Bibles there? We miss the victory of God. Evil wins, and “Good Friday” is no longer so good, since Jesus dies and stays dead. Although most Christians wouldn't literally close their Bibles at the death of Jesus, I think there's a danger of forgetting about Easter once it passes. The resurrection belongs at the forefront of our Christian beliefs and worldview, not at its periphery. 


Jesus' death and resurrection were a bit like a tidal wave, crashing down and having drastic effects throughout creation, to the shock especially of everyone who encountered the risen Jesus. He was not a ghost or a spirit. Nor was his body quite like ours, being now incorruptible. It was something the world had never seen before. Now at this point, “modern” people will object, saying that resurrection is impossible. “We know through our study of science that the world doesn't work this way,” they might argue. “Unlike those naïve, gullible people two thousand years ago, we know that dead people stay dead.” As we can see in the gospel accounts, though, Jesus' resurrection was as much of a surprise to his followers as it would be for us today. The apostles believed in what they saw, and they established the church on the basis of his resurrection. Two thousand years later, we don't have that ability to see the risen Jesus as they did. We can't ask for physical proof of his resurrection like Thomas. But, having not seen him, we nonetheless believe. That faith, I think, is the best Easter present that any of us can be given.  

I spent most of the year 2012 in Egypt. Two weeks after Easter, I went with a Christian Egyptian friend to a service at his church. (Christians make up about ten percent of the country's population, most of them being Eastern Orthodox.) It was one of the most festive and exuberant environments I've ever been in. People were celebrating for all they were worth; the liturgy was triumphant and uplifting. And this was an entire two weeks after the holiday itself. In our minds, do we place more importance on Christmas, Advent, and Lent, than Easter? 

Easter morning has come and gone. But as Christians we should be celebrating it every day of our lives. Jesus' resurrection is the source of our consolation and our joy, and the basis of our hope for eternal life. It is a hope that was lovingly promised to us on a Sunday morning that changed the course of world history and continues to transform and renew us, day by day.