4.11.14

Last year I remember discussing with Jimmy and Nate whether Nouwen books 'count' for the 52x52 challenge because they're usually less than 100 pages long. I picked this book up because it seemed appropriate to my Lenten fast and, admittedly, because I thought it might be a quick read. Turns out, it is one of the hardest books I have read in a long time. Three chapters with an introduction and a conclusion should not be difficult to get through, but I found myself reading sections a second or third time, letting the words sink in and worrying them over in my mind until I could place a finger on what was challenging me.

In The Way of the Heart, Nouwen provides an introduction to the thoughts of the Desert Fathers and explains the call they heard to go into the desert as three commands: Flee. Be Silent. And Pray. He discusses the practices that transformed them, and that could transform us, if we let them, in those three terms - solitude, silence, and prayer. The Fathers, he says, were looking for a new martyrdom that would help them to separate themselves from the sinking ship of society so that when they ministered to others they could do so with God's heart instead of simply perpetuating the twisted values of the World.

It was a difficult read not because of large words (because Nouwen really doesn't use large words or heavy explanations), but because I recognize the truth of what Nouwen is saying and want to embrace it, but I struggle with integrating it into my life. As an RD it really is easy to get swept up into busyness, wordyness, and distraction of campus culture and imagine that the fate of the world depends on my efforts. I easily forget that only God can really change people, and that if I am not near to him I will be less fit to draw others near to him.

Here is an excerpt from the conclusion that I copied to my journal because it describes the contrast between the way I am now and the way I want to be:

"The temptation is to go mad with those who are made and to go around yelling and screaming, telling everyone where to go, what to do, and how to behave. The temptation is to become so involved in the agonies and ecstasies of the last days that we will drown together with those we are trying to save.

"...When we have been remodeled into living witnesses of Christ through solitude, silence, and prayer, we will not longer have to worry about whether we are saying the right thing or making the right gesture, because then Christ will make his presence known even when we are not aware of it." 

Big Questions, Worthy Dreams

As an undergrad in student ministry, I never imagined that I would be pursuing a degree in education, and even less so that I would love it. Most of my thoughts on formal education systems seemed to circle around to my favorite Captain America line in The Avengers: "Hulk, SMASH!" You can blame it on my homeschooliness, but you can't deny that there are some pretty messed up things going on in our schools. Education majors often get on my nerves, putting together their cute little lesson plans and focusing on the how-tos of teaching instead of dwelling on how the system as a whole must and could be reformed.

I am able to acknowledge the fault in my logic, however, when I also say that college is one of the best things that ever happened to me. College gave me access to information, not in the sense that the internet does so, but information mediated by wise adults whom I trust to direct me in ways of thinking and discerning between what is important and what is not in most fields. Not all students feel this way; many of them love the people they lived with, or the co-curriculars they participated in. For me, however, stepping on to Geneva's campus was stepping into a wonderland of opportunity for learning and growth.

Geneva College and the amazing friends and mentors with whom I have studied during the past six years were an excellent backdrop to my reading of Sharon Parks' book Big Questions, Worthy Dreams for the 52x52. Parks' target group is "young adults," by which she means "twenty-somethings," and it was interesting to read her perspective and research on people like me. I believe I am in a unique position, however, to compare her observations to my own, and I was glad to say that for the most part I felt well-represented in both theory and practice.

Parks spends the first half of her book explaining and maneuvering through developmental learning theories in multiple areas to describe "young adults" as a group who have exited adolescence, but have not yet reached mature adulthood. She talks about development in terms of a journey (that is, movement away from what is familiar in search of truth) as well as homecoming (that is, discovering how each of us may be at home in the world and in our communities as we continue this search for truth). Her conclusion is that thing we need most to reach mature adulthood are good mentors and mentoring communities. The second half of the book is devoted to descriptions of the benefits and possibilities of these mentoring relationships.

As a student of higher ed, I was excited to read this because it gives me a more manageable perspective on my students and peers. Many of the learning theories that Parks works with have been presented to me in classes and I feel as if I finally understand how theory can be used in meaningful ways. Parks' illustrations and anecdotes from her interaction with students were excellently chosen, and I looked forward to block quotes (craziness!).

The thing that really stood out to me about the book, however, was the recurring theme of journey and homecoming, and how deeply those ideas resonated in my experience. When I was just a freshman in HUM103, I wrote a paper for the end of the class wherein I described my sense of my own narrative as that of "the wanderer," a character without a home and with an uncertain future, looking for something of deep meaning and content with a meager portion in the meantime. This is still very true of my perspective. Through the last five years, however, more has been added to the narrative - people and places have brushed, bumped, and sometimes taken up residence in my life in such a way that I have come to know the value of a mentoring environment and community. Not only do I know its value, I cannot imagine leaving it. In higher education, the wanderer caught a glimpse of home and began the long walk toward interdependence and community.

As I think about this read for the 52x52, I would say that it was helpful personally, in that I was able to reflect on my experience and growth, as well as the long trudge still ahead of me on my way to maturity. However, it has also given me a better perspective on the bigger picture of education; as much as I still want to shake it up (a little revolution now and again is a good thing), I can no longer say, "Ceci, SMASH!" Since it may someday pay my bills, I suppose that is a healthy improvement.

code name verity: definitely a book review

In a world where young adult books and media are filled with romance, angst and sex, I was in search of an "easy" read to kickstart my fiction reading for 52x52, and I wisely approached my good friend Anna for a recommendation to help me avoid being dragged into another Twilight experience. Somehow in my teen years I skipped right over the young adult fiction section of our library in favor of high fantasy and historical adult fiction, with the exception of that unfortunate saga, and I am wary of wandering in that direction without assistance. True to form, Anna was most helpful - I was given my choice of seven books, each with its own unique recommendations and warnings. Being in a thoughtful mood, I gamely selected the volume associated with "beautiful friendship" and "deep emotional trauma." It was that, and so much more.

Elizabeth Wein's code name verity is the first person narrative of a British intelligence officer caught in German-occupied France in the throes of WWII. Knowing that a bullet to the head is the most likely end to her time with the Gestapo, and in order to avoid (or at least lessen) the torture inflicted on her, she agrees to write down everything she knows of the British War Effort, although not quite in the way her antagonists might expect. Doing justice to the literary traditions she loves, the story she weaves is full to overflowing with love, joy, sorrow, and pain... and a deep, abiding friendship that comes more fully to life with each successive page.

If I tell you any more, I will have said far too much. The first reason I loved this book was because it gave me new insight into the European arena of World War II, in part because it was a woman's perspective, but also because of its attention to geography. In this book, as in the war, more than winning and losing are at stake; the enemy threatens the very things that make us human, and casts a pall over the glory and beauty of the country it invaded first: Germany.

Anna was right - emotional trauma is the best way to describe the experience, but not in a depressing way. Wein's writing is open and honest; her characters' personality and pain are intertwined on the page, and are a reflection of the hope and pain combined in the allied forces whose job it was to fight the Nazi regime. And all of it is made possible through the breathtakingly poignant story of two girls who had the sense to realize that they had met their best friend.

And they make a sensational team.

*****

As an aside, I hope I don't insult anyone by saying that I wish Suzanne Collins had given her brilliant idea for the Hunger Games books to Elizabeth Wein, because code name verity accomplished everything that the Hunger Games promised but failed to deliver in terms of emotional impact, character development, and cultural critique.

The Life of the Beloved: A Book Review (of sorts)

I've been saying over and over to myself, "If an election is the end of the conversation, you're doing it wrong." Now that there have been a few days to absorb the fallout of our most recent election, I wonder what I should put my hand to next; I have many opinions about said fallout, but I think you'll agree with me when I say that I want to wait until some of the right-wingers have simmered down a bit.

To continue the conversation, then, I suppose I will turn inward. I recently joined a very secret society whose goal is to have all of its members read at least 52 books in 52 weeks. It is called 52in52 and... I guess it's not so secret anymore. No matter, you'll probably hear a lot about it this year. My first choice for this challenge was Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen, and although it is brief (119 pages) it has really given me a lot to think about.

What He Said

Nouwen had a friend who asked him to write something about spirituality that would speak to his "secular" friends in New York City. The preface and the conclusion tell the story of their friendship, and everything between is written in a very personal tone - the book is more like a letter than a manuscript, and that very thing makes it difficult to breeze through. You don't just skim a book when the author seems to be speaking directly to you, telling you that you are Beloved.

That word - Beloved - is the way Nouwen describes the entire human experience. He says that we must first realize that we are Beloved, and we spend too much time listening to voices that tell us we must earn Belovedness. Second, we are in the process of becoming Beloved; our life experience is completed by being "taken, blessed, broken and given," being sensitive to our Belovedness and realizing that we never have to compete for value and love. Finally, living as the Beloved, we have the joy of knowing that being Beloved is not a "spiritual" thing, it is an identity that we can embrace and a promise for the future, when there will be no more lying voices telling us we are worthless or cursed.

Some Reflection

I definitely recommend this book to anyone, anytime. If you read the preface and epilogue you find that  Nouwen's friend liked the book, but didn't think that it was exactly what he and his secular friends needed because it assumed certain things about reality that they were unwilling to accept. From my perspective, however, it was exactly what I need to hear and what I want my friends and students to hear. You are Beloved. Everything else in the world feeds you lies, but this one thing cannot be changed, even if you choose to forget it: You are Beloved, and there are incredibly practical steps that you can take toward recognizing and accepting that Belovedness.

It was kind of a big deal to me, because I tend to accept what other people say. I spend a lot of time listening and reflecting, trying to understand why and how people and things work; this may surprise some of you, but I do this more than I talk. I am quick to assume that the next person knows better than I do, which looks a lot like humility and is rather healthy in most conversations.

Sometimes that compliance isn't so healthy, however. After 20-some years, I know exactly what it feels like to hear my failures and others' criticisms sneak up on me and whisper in my ear that if I don't make the grade, I am a bad student; if I'm not around, my friends will forget me; if I'm not interesting, no one will care. This book challenges this way of thinking at its core and begs me - and you, if you read it - to remember:

"These feelings, strong as they may be, are not telling me the truth about myself. The truth, even though I cannot feel it right no, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God's eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity and held safe in an everlasting embrace." (49)

I feel bereft, having 'finished' this book without experiencing all of the profound change it recommends. Life does not afford the time to dwell on every word, but having been read, these words are going to stay with me. Read it, and I pray they will do the same for you.