Monday, June 24, 2013

Bonhoeffer's Question to Me: Do You Love Jesus?

Preface: Don’t Panic. Read the whole thing.

Something to listen to while reading:
zero-project: Touch of serenity

I am currently reading Eric Metaxas’ book “Seven Men,” where he looks at seven different men from history and asks what made them great men. In his chapter on Dietrich Bonhoeffer there is a line that says, ‘One of his students said that Bonhoeffer once asked him, “Do you love Jesus?” (pg. 99)’

Do I love Jesus?

I like him. I like the things he said. I agree with them. I think he is a good king and ruler, but do I love him?

How can I evangelize when I don’t even have an acceptable answer to that most basic of questions? How can I impact positively the people around me if I am unable to give that question an answer?

How can I persuade people to the absolute greatness of Jesus when I myself have not yet been fully persuaded in my own heart? I say “in my heart” because in my mind I have been persuaded. But those two things are not the same. The mind and the heart are not the same. My affections are separate, separated.


The three most important things in real estate are location, location, location. The three most important things in interpretation are context, context, context.


I say this as a warning for interpretation of the previous statements about whether I love Jesus. Here is part of my context.


My emotions are totally broken, and willfully so. It’s not a matter of them being underdeveloped, or malnourished. It’s a matter of my willfully having killed them; of knowing how to control my heart and the physical aspects of my body (like heart rate) so that I do not feel when I do not want to. This has been by modus operandi for dealing with sin and disappointment.


Even now, as I sit writing this and reviewing in my mind these things, I can feel myself controlling my heart rate and forcibly clearing my mind of emotions and thoughts that would make me sad. As I said, this is how I deal with sin and negative emotions. I have never been taught how to biblically process through negative emotions. All I know is that I do not like them and I have the ability to not feel them. So why not kill those emotions and move on? As for sin, I was never taught how to resist sin. I was told to flee it. The easiest way to flee sin, in my experience, is to kill the emotion leading me to that sin in its infancy; to calmly, coldly, rationally say no, and to murder the emotion. And it’s worked out pretty well so far.


Except, as you will have guessed, this “And it’s worked out pretty well so far,” comes with some problems. Namely, that I do not feel and am not moved from the heart when I ought to be. How do I love Jesus with all of my heart, when I killed and buried my heart behind a placid face a long time ago? How do I love anything for that matter?
 

Do I love Jesus?

No, but that is not because he is not lovely. It is because my heart and my emotions are so totally broken that I have no idea of how to love, or what it even looks like.

I would like to believe that my heart is actually really sensitive at its core, maybe even more so than most people. But I hate it getting hurt. And so the only way to protect it has been to seal it in a vault and throw it into the sea.


But perhaps that is only wishful thinking.

How do you help someone when you feel sadness at their state, but do not feel love for them? How do you get motivated to do anything, when your motivator is broken? I have a computer that works perfectly fine when on. However, the power button does not work and thus cannot be turned on. I view affections as the “on-button” of actions. How do I do anything, if I cannot be powered on?



This whole project, of feeling again (?), has been a long project in the running, beginning in January of last year with the start of a story I wanted to write. I knew at the outset that the story would fall flat on its face if I, as the author, were not able to feel the various parts of the story. Thus I picked out songs that I felt fit various scenes from the story and made a playlist so that I could feel my way through the story. The only problem with this process is that there are significant parts of the story that are sad, and so there were a lot of songs that reflect that emotion. So eventually I had to stop listening to the playlist, to preserve my sanity.

But this was a defibrillator shock to my heart that I needed. In fact the whole writing process has been really good for me, on various levels (now I just need someone to listen to the outline I have for the first book and ask good questions that will help me better be able to direct my writing).

However, the process of integrating my emotions into my actions is scary for me. This (killed emotions) has been the way I have operated for numerous years, and I don’t remember when I have not operated this way. I feel like I am messing with the bios of my heart, where one wrong move will irreparably brick the machine.

So how does one wake up a coma patient? “Hey, Heart, you awake?” No answer. How does one fix what one does not know how to repair?


I hate showing process, because people look at you as though you are already completed and judge you for that. I don’t like showing myself or what I think or what I write until I am completely done because I do not want to be judged and evaluated on work that is only half done. But when in this life will anything be fully done?

Do I love Jesus?

In the broken state that I am in, so far as I am able, yes. But I need further sanctification before I will truly be able to say that I love him with all my heart.


[Note: This article has not been written as perfectly or as coherently as I would like it to have been written. It does not contain everything that I could have said, the other parts of the context that might be helpful to further grasping the proper interpretation of the article. But that’s process for you.]

Friday, June 14, 2013

Captain's Log

I wrote this over the past two days at work:

Earth Date 2013.06.13: Captain’s Log: Here follows the adventures of Jonathan Wheeler and the automobile Buick LeSabre.

9:30 Local Time (LT) – Have landed on the planet Biola in the La Mirada sector of the galaxy California. The population appears sparser than the last time I was here.  I wonder what has happened to the people. Perhaps a plague has struck since last I was here. Their Facilities continent, while accessible, is dark and empty. While filled with foreboding, I press forward.
9:40 (LT) – They are all gone. The box containing keys to local buildings and non-stellar transports appears to have been looted by the local populace. I am at a loss; perhaps I will borrow the keys of a local prefect.
10:00 (LT) – Having obtained keys, I proceeded to the designated transport. They do not work. I then obtained a second set; they also do not work. In anger and frustration, I contemplate going home.
10:30 (LT) – While staying, I remembered that an oracle spoke about an upcoming famine of light for the next season of this planet. While only one local youth was at the market, I paid fair price for what I bought. I will not be starved of light this next season.
10:50 (LT) – Have finally obtained transport. Had to jury-rig multiple sets of keys, but finally I can leave the Facilities continent.
11:08 (LT) – Have finally arrived at the designated work outpost, Hope. Hopefully, I will be busy the rest of the day. Thank goodness I brought food.
13:10 (LT) – Have discovered transport 25 sitting in its parking spot, plugged in. Meanwhile a youth working at the Horton prefecture has possession of transport 24. An icy wrath envelops me.
17:45 (LT) – Mission planet side terminated early. I shall be back again on the next day.

Earth Date 2013.06.14: Captain’s Log: Here follows the adventures of Jonathan Wheeler and the automobile Buick LeSabre.

9:33 (LT) – Upon arrival planet side, was able to swiftly obtain the keys of a prefect and the rights to transport 24. Still no one here, but the day has started better than yesterday.
9:38 (LT) – Thou hast got to be sh*tting me. Transport 24 is broken; its front right propulsion device devoid of its usual gaseous substance rendering it useless. I shall have to obtain other transportation.
9:43 (LT) – It appears that all of the local prefects keep the keys to their transportation vehicles with them instead of returning them to security box. With no transport, it appears I will have to leg it across the planet.
9:55 (LT) – After arriving at the Alpha prefecture, I discovered I did not take my communicator with me. So there is no hope of communication with the outside world. Unfortunately I did not brign food with me today.
10:11 (LT) – Found a penny and picked it up. Still no luck.
10:14 (LT) – Found a bag of Hawaiian Hurricane Popcorn. No listed expiration date. Do I trust the penny?
10:58 (LT) – Transportation? Heh! Access to buildings? Heh! A student work craves not these things.
11:02 (LT) – For over a thousand months, student workers were the guardians of lighting and wall repair. Until the dark times. Until Obamacare.
11:06 (LT) – Here is your father’s T8 light bulb. Not as clumsy or as random as a candle. An elegant light, for a more civilized age.
11:25 (LT) – With administrators and prefects gone, I have done my best to stimulate the economy these past two days, to the tune of over a thousand local credits worth of goods. I wonder: will I be counted a hero, or will I have worked long enough to see myself become the villain?
12:20 (LT) – An old light bulb decided it didn’t want to live anymore and so jumped from a high place onto a hard place. Did it right in front of me too. Still in shock. Its going to take a while to clean the place up. I have cordoned off the area, probably for the whole weekend. It looks like I still have bits of him on me.
12:45 (LT) – Yep. Had a bit of him in my hair.
13:35 (LT) – At last work is over and I can go home. I weep tears of joy.

13:42 (LT) – Wished the last female on the planet to “Have a good weekend.” She responded with a variation of the same. Smooth. O.o Also, found another penny outside my shop; picked it up. It’s the weekend. Must have worked.