a hidden wholeness

I've added a new book to my reading list.  These quoted passages went straight to my heart.

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introverts and parenting . . .

I probably copy and paste way too much in my blog.  Other people write amazing things and are so thoughtful and creative that I can't resist capturing there smart words in my blog.

And so here I go again.  My latest obsession (one of my latest) is understanding and appreciating the spirits of introverts.  As far as introverts go, I'm thinking I'm hard-core . . . extreme . . . the "mother ship" (to quote About Time).  Understanding leads to freedom and I'm feeling very free lately.  Wish I had this understanding regarding my being 20 years ago.

Love this wonderful article by Holly Klassen . . .

Why Parenting Is So Hard for Us Introverts

The day the new neighbors moved in two doors down, I was excited for my 7-year-old son. After sneaking many furtive glances as they came and went, we determined they had a little boy around the same age as Sammy. And after having lived in a neighborhood swarming with little girls for almost five years, this was reason to celebrate. Finally, Sam would have a friend -- a real, live neighborhood buddy!

Funny thing though: Over the next few weeks, he never even mentioned the possibility of playing with the little boy. Was he just being shy? I wondered. No, that didn't sound like Sammy. Finally, one day after school I suggested tentatively, "Do you want to go together to the neighbors to ask the little boy to play? Maybe he likes hockey too!" His response? "No thanks, Mommy. I'm not really into the whole 'friend' thing. I prefer to play alone."

Sigh... I guess in some ways, my son is more like me than I thought.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not anti-social, and I don't think I'm particularly socially awkward. I love being around people, and I think I'm a decent conversationalist. That said, there are a few things I've come to accept about myself -- about the way I am and the way I'm made -- and I have to say, in 90% of circumstances and situations, I'm OK with how I am.

Three fun facts about me:

1. I love being around people and activity. Once a day.
Being around people who aren't my family is an event for me. I love being with my friends... in small doses. I love going to barbecues and parties, to church and out for dinner with friends, but generally speaking, one activity a day is more than enough for me. OK, let's get real: I'd probably be just fine with one activity perweek.

2. Generally speaking, I'm happiest when I'm alone.

Does that make me anti-social? I don't know. I couldn't be by myself all the time, certainly. I know I would miss people after a while with no human contact (I would, right?). I can rarely recall feeling lonely as an adult... or even as a kid, for that matter. I always have lots to think about and lots to do. I'm entrepreneurial and always have ideas brewing, so there's never a shortage of things I could be doing.

3. I'm the most productive when I'm alone.

There's a reason I've worked from home for the past 15 years. When I worked in an office setting, I loved my colleagues. I enjoyed chit-chatting, and it was nice to have people there to bounce ideas around with. But in my estimation, working from home, I get done in three hours what I used to get done in eight. I rip through my work and never miss a deadline, making for satisfied clients and a happy Holly.

So, what does this have to do with parenting, you may be asking? Stay with me.

When I ventured into parenthood just over 10 years ago, honestly, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Prior to having my daughter, I had already worked from home for a few years. This meant I could schedule meetings when I wanted to, but was rarely in situations where I had to be with people.

Then along came my daughter: my beautiful, sweet, extroverted daughter. My daughter who hated napping because it meant being away from people. My daughter who was never happier than when she was out and about, surrounded by lots of people, noise and activity. And 10 years in? She still thrives on activity. She could be with friends 24 hours a day. She still has a hard time falling asleep -- I think to her, it means giving up on all the fun and activity of the day.

Two and a half years after my daughter was born, Sammy joined us. Oh, did he join us. He came out screaming and didn't stop for months. And you know what was super awesome? He, too, did best when we were out and about. Surrounded by lots of people, noise and activity.

And me, the home body and introvert? I was, as you can imagine, somewhat less excited about the prospect of being 'out and about' all day, every day. Every single day... until Sammy was about 2. He didn't do well at home. He cried and fussed and needed constant entertainment and stimulation.

And even as the kids got a bit older, and my high need toddler turned into a home-loving, contented preschooler, the challenges of being an introvert and a mom remained. While we didn't need to be out all the time, I discovered something interesting. Something no one tells you before you have kids. Something someone MUST tell you before you have kids:

They are with you ALL THE TIME.

As in 24 hours a day. If you're lucky enough to have a baby or child who sleeps through the night and takes naps, you get some down time. If not, you're screwed. 20 minutes naps scattered throughout the day are NOT, in case you were wondering, enough time for an introvert to re-charge his or her batteries.

When you go to bed, there is no guarantee they will not join you. When you go to the bathroom, you can be certain they will follow you. When you need 15 minutes of completely quiet, uninterrupted time just to THINK, it will not happen.

You are ON. All the time. On call, on shift, on board. You have little people needing Band-Aids, food, entertainment and perhaps most importantly of all, for you to be emotionally present with them (not just physically present, which is way easier in my opinion).

As an introvert, being alone is what energizes me. When I'm alone, I can think about my kids, miss them and plan what we're going to do next. But when they're with me ALL THE TIME, there is no time to think about them, miss them or plan what we're going to do next. I parent off-the-cuff, doing what has to be done, putting out fires and getting through the day.

I often tell people that I really only started to love parenting the day my youngest started kindergarten. I know that sounds like a terrible thing to say, but I think my temperament is a large part of that. I loved my kids from the day they were born, but it was only when I had time to think about them and to miss them that I really started to love parenting.

While they're at school, I have complete quiet in which to work, to be alone with my thoughts and to plan what fun things we're going to do together. I may not have 24 hours a day with them anymore, but the five hours between school and bedtime are more purposeful, more special and definitely more fun.

If you're an introvert and the parent of a small human, it can be very freeing to realize that maybe it's not just that you "don't like the baby stage." Maybe it's just that being with people 24 hours a day -- even the wonderful little beings you created -- is difficult and draining.

And it's OK (and even, I think, necessary) to take time away from your little energy-suckers to recharge and to think about them and to miss them. That may mean getting a babysitter sometimes (even if you're a stay-at-home parent), getting a mother's helper (a young teen or tween to play with your kids so you can chill in your bedroom alone) or setting them up with a movie so you can have an hour to re-charge your batteries.

These things don't make you a bad parent... they make you a wise and realistic parent, one who understands and accepts your temperament and limitations; one who does what's necessary to keep your family and home running smoothly.

Are you an introvert? Have you taken any steps to set aside some alone time to save your sanity?

Holly Klaassen is a freelance writer and creator of The Fussy Baby Site, a site for parents of fussy, colicky or high need babies. Not all babies are 'easy'! Visit her site for support and information to help you survive and celebrate your high need baby!

link to Klassen article

blog post by David Cutler, Editor of SpinEducation--Introversion and Education

David Cutler – Founder, Executive Editor

David Cutler is a dedicated independent school teacher at Palmer Trinity in Miami, Florida, where he teaches United States History, European History, United States Government, Yearbook and Journalism. He also serves as Head Boys Cross Country Coach. Cutler is proud to act as a Teacher of the Future for the National Association of Independent Schools. Occasionally, he also writes about education for Edutopia and The Atlantic. Cutler attended Brandeis University as an undergraduate with a major in History and minors in Latin American Studies and Journalism. He holds an M.A. in Comparative History, also from Brandeis. He can be reached at davidericcutler@gmail.com.

It’s 2005. I’m a junior at Brandeis University attending “Modfest,” a loud, crowded and sweaty party organized by student events. I’ve been socializing for two hours, and I want go home.

It’s not that I don’t like being around people. I do. I just feel smothered. As I leave early, I walk by my roommate, who urges me to stay. I continue walking, and I fall asleep that night thinking that there’s something wrong with me.

Six years later, my mood changes upon reading Susan Cain’s Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking. It’s the most helpful book I’ve ever read, and also one of the best researched.

“Introverts…may have strong social skills and enjoy parties and business meetings, but after a while wish they were home in their pajamas,” Cain writes. “They prefer to devote their social energies to close friends, colleagues, and family. They listen more than they talk, think before they speak, and often feel as if they express themselves better in writing than in conversation. They tend to dislike conflict. Many have a horror of small talk, but enjoy deep discussion.”

Cain has me pegged to a tee, and I feel a great sense of relief and validation. I’m an introvert, a perfectly normal person living in a world obsessed with championing extroverted characteristics: dominance, assertiveness, spontaneity and loudness.

I am thrilled to speak with Cain, who says that of all the audiences she’s happy to reach, she’s most passionate about students.

“I hear too many stories of children who are given the message by very well-meaning teachers that there’s something wrong with the way they are,” Cain says. “I think well-meaning teachers see their role as being to turn introverts into extroverts. We really need to understand that an introvert is a totally normal personality type.”

I wonder about teachers who place a big emphasis on class discussion, and if this unfairly discriminates against introverted students. I’m equally concerned about whether teachers are doing right by encouraging these kids to “come out of their shells.”

“The most recent study found that half the population are introverts. Other studies have said a third of the population,” Cain says. “That’s one out of every two or three students. They don’t need to be changed, these students. They do need to be cultivated so that they make the most of their natural talents, so they learn the skills that they need to flourish in extroverted schools and workplaces. But that’s different from changing who they are.”

Cain tells me that introverted children often have an easier time identifying their interests, and that they become extremely passionate about pursuing one or two subjects. As I hear Cain talk, it’s like she’s reading my mind. With teaching, running and blogging, my introverted personality enhances my work ethic and productivity.

Last month, I wrote about school culture’s unhealthy insistence upon instilling in young people leadership qualities. Before I even have a chance to ask Cain for her take, she’s already addressing the issue.

“One of the mistakes that I’ve seen in education as I toured the country and sat in on classrooms, I noticed that leadership has become a real buzzword,” Cain says. “There’s an expectation that everybody should be a leader. It’s kind of like, ‘Well, why? Why does everyone have to be a leader, exactly?’ I don’t think we’re designed that way. I think if you look at many of the great thought leaders and political leaders in history, they were not the ones who were leaders in the classroom.”

Cain is quick to provide an example.

“Gandhi would run home from school every day as soon as class was over because he didn’t want to have to talk to the other students,” Cain says. “He was very shy and very reserved. He came to leadership out of a sense of passion for his causes, not out of being a ‘natural leader,’ whatever that is.”

I can already hear the naysayers, insisting that fostering leadership potential provides the best possible avenue for success. To that, I say hogwash—and Cain agrees.

“Why can’t [students] be really creative or really thoughtful or really kind?” Cain says. “Or any number of other attributes that serve the greater good. It seems like a collective lunacy we’ve bought into, that everybody has to be a leader. Really, if everybody was a leader, we would get nowhere.”

I ask Cain how teachers can better reach introverted students. It’s important to acknowledge that this involves more work, Cain tells me.

“With the extroverts, they’re raising their hands,” Cain says. “They’re telling you what they know, what they don’t know. They’re giving you a very fun back-and-forth. It’s just easier. An introverted student is sitting in the class. Their face might seem impassive, so you have no idea. Are they engaged or are they not?”

Two years ago, I stopped grading students on class participation. Any type of assessment is subjective, but this feels especially so. I notice no clear correlation between how much an individual speaks, including the quality of what he or she says, and performance in all other aspects of the course.

“Why is engagement measured only through how often do you raise your hand?” Cain says. “There’s a lot of different ways of being engaged with material or participating in a classroom. This is especially true now in the age of technology and social media. I know teachers are beginning to experiment with bringing social media into the classroom. What I’m hearing is that if you generate a class discussion of kids that’s happening online that the quieter kids will often participate just as much when it’s online as the more vocal kids.”

I think back to my conversations with Curtis J. Bonk, Professor of Instructional Systems Technology at Indiana University. Bonk is also author of one of my favorite books about learning, The World is Open: How Web Technology Is Revolutionizing Education. I wish that he and Cain would work on a project together.

“If you are introverted in a regular classroom setting, online environments allow you to feel comfortable and at home,” Bonk tells me. “You are in a safe harbor. You can tinker with your ideas. You can search the Internet to find a visual cue to enhance what you’re trying to show.”

I’m eager to hear from Cain about how educators can more effectively teach and assess introverts.

“I think it is a matter of finding one-on-one time with those students, figuring out what are the areas that they’re really interested in and maybe calling on them or asking them to participate around those areas. Giving them extra assignments around their areas of passion.”

I have taught many introverts, and many fear that college admissions offices will frown upon a perceived lack of traditional extracurricular activities. Cain and I discuss whether this fear is justified.

“It feels like if you’re not the editor of the paper, president of the student body, or captain of the soccer team then nothing else counts because that’s what high school culture tells you,” Cain says. “But that’s not actually really true from a college admissions point of view. They might actually be more interested in the kid who is excelling in less common activities. It makes you seem more distinct and more individual.”

Before we part ways, I ask Cain to provide one final piece of advice for introverted students trying to succeed in high school.

“Find your niche,” she says. “Find the thing you really love to do. Find the people you really love to be with and don’t worry so much about the other stuff.”

ABOUT SPIN EDUCATION

IN A RAPIDLY EVOLVING DIGITAL AGE, SPINEDU REPORTS ON HOW TECHNOLOGICAL AND PEDAGOGICAL INNOVATION PRESENTS OPPORTUNITY AND CHALLENGES IN AND OUTSIDE OF SCHOOL. FROM NEWS STORIES, OPINION PIECES, REVIEWS AND INTERVIEWS WITH CUTTING-EDGE INNOVATORS, AUTHORS AND EDUCATORS, SPINEDU PRACTICES QUALITY REPORTING AND COMMUNITY JOURNALISM—SETTING ITSELF APART FROM COMPETING SITES.

Susan Cain on Introverted students

books

I was laying in bed the other night and staring at my stack of books.  At first I thought, "they are so pretty".  I really think books are beautiful and I love looking at them.  Then I thought, "they all have similar colors...orange, gray, and black".  Cool.  Then I thought, "this is crazy...reading so many books at the same time!".  Actually, I have finished Happier at Home, Pride and Prejudice, and Dracula.  But they stay on my dresser because I either want to reread them (Pride and Prejudice, Dracula) or I'm not done thinking about it (Happier at Home).

I love books...even in this digital age.  Oh yeah... I'm also reading John Galsworthy's, Forsyte Saga, on my Kindle.  I plan to own a hard copy of it someday...then maybe I will finish it.

I love the way books look...the squareness of them and the way they fit in my hand.  They are elegant.

I pick up the book that matches the time of day or my mood.  I love Quiet but there are so many things that I underline or want to tell someone that it's not a book to read when you climb into bed.  Mere Christianity is wonderful and full of ideas that I think about for a long time.  Call the Midwife is good, light reading and The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo is exciting.  Dracula is one of the best books I've ever read. EVERYONE should read it.  And everyone should read Pride and Prejudice.  Lord of the Rings is my favorite story.... ever.

I love my stack of books.

look for the helpers

Quiet...

I just started reading the book, "Quiet", by Susan Cain.  It's wonderful.

Ben read it about a year ago after I stumbled across a 'pinned' quote by Susan Cain.  After some googling, we ended up watching a TED talk on introverts, presented by Cain.  Everyone should watch it!  We were hooked and amazed by her insight and really life-changing ideas about introverts.

I am dying to write more of my thoughts (and I have a ton of them!) but I'm going to share my absolute favorite part so far --  "The Myth of Charismatic Leadership". . .

"Indeed, according to a famous study by the influential management theorist Jim Collins, many of the best-performing companies of the late twentieth century were run by what he calls "Level 5 Leaders."  These  exceptional CEOs were known not for their flash or charisma but for extreme humility coupled with intense professional will. . . "

. . .   extreme humility
. . . intense professional will

beauty

More beauty = less stress danielle laporte

treasure

Isaac and I were cleaning out his room over Labor Day Weekend.  I love Labor Day weekend.  We almost NEVER go anywhere and it's heaven.  After a full summer of activities, hanging out at home is perfect.  And historically, it was the weekend we prepared for back-to-school.  Well, that little ritual ended when the boys were in about 4th grade.  After that, there was no joy in preparing so we just waited it out -- no back to school shopping, no cleaning out backpacks . . .  nothing.  We just braced ourselves for the first day and jumped in.

Anyway, our cleaning had an easiness and purpose.  Sam was moving into Ben's old bedroom and Isaac would have his own room.  Motivation was high. :)  Isaac is deliberate and thorough.  And so I love to clean and organize with Isaac.

As we cleaned and sorted, we would often linger over mementos and keepsakes. . . the $2 bill tucked in a drawer from grandpa Marv, Pokemon cards, pictures from kindergarten, medals from basketball tournaments, and on and on.  Any DVDs, PS games, or CDs were surely opened and checked for contents.  They were often empty and so the search would begin for the missing disk.

Isaac picked up a CD case and opened it.  "Mom", he said.  I stopped what I was doing after the first request. . . we weren't in a hurry.  "Look", he said.  Inside the case, on the back of the cover was this amazing image.  "Isn't that cool", he said.  It was wonderful!  And my boy knew how much I'd appreciate such a beautiful image and magical words.

"I love it", I said.

"I know", he said.

". . . create by relating deeply"

Love these ideas from Danielle's Blog. . . I highlighted the areas that strongly resonate with me:)

What’s your Creativity Pattern?

As artists (and we’re all artists) we have patterns of creating. A way that we typically make things happen. A style in which we pull ideas down from the ethers and put them into form. It takes a while to figure out what your pattern of creativity is. You need to have cranked out a few projects, raised a few babies, made a few flops and masterpieces to have something to ‘retrospect’ on.

Styles of creating, in no particular order, with no superiority to each other:

Pounds at possibilities like a stick on a piñata until it rains down candies of goodness.
Plods like an ox and patiently awaits the harvest.
Falls in love again and again with ideas and people and keeps falling in love every time.
Dances with harmony, always looking for the most beautiful solution and energetic alignment.
Moves mountains no matter what listening to heavy metal or Madam Butterfly cranked in the background.

Stops ‘n starts. Rushes in.
Studies. Awaits providence.
Sticks to the plan. Plans big. Has no plans.
Yields. Pushes. Paints it red. Sets it on fire.

As for me, I’m the fool who rushes into creative love. I create when I resonate. As Mumford & Sons puts it, “I will love with urgency, but not with haste.” I wait, I wait, I wait — patient as a cat in the sun — for the right collaborator, for the God Blessed Right Idea, and then BAM. It’s game on. Full on, right away, tight deadlines and all hands on deck. Run with the gold.

I’ve judged my Creativity Pattern over the years — and believe me, it’s been judged by my collaborators.Overly selective. Too impulsive. Too fast. I should have a five-year plan, and, you know, some goals. But everything great I’ve done shows evidence of the same rhythm. Selective impulsivity works for me in all kinds of ways.

I’ve polished my pattern over time. My launch dates are more humane. (Kinda.) I’m more patient. (Debatable.) But mostly, I’ve gotten clear that I create by relating deeply — deeply, with an idea, and with the people who can lift up those ideas. Like I said, Fool For Love and proud of it.

When you identify your Creativity Pattern you’ve got a very powerful opportunity: Change the way you get stuff done because it’s killing you, or keep mastering your tao of doing because it’s getting you beautiful results across the board.

There’s a pattern to what you’ve pulled off in the past. It wants to show you your way in the world.

coffee with Ben

There are a lot of good reasons to attend conferences, symposiums, and workshops.  Obvious reasons include continuing education, exposure to new ideas, exchanging stories, and affirmation of ideas.  Another good reason is seeing other therapists that I may only see once or twice a year. . . friends from college and past co-workers.

Another good reason to attend symposiums in Fargo is coffee with Ben.  After the first night of the symposium, I met Ben for supper. . . and then a drive. . .  and then coffee.  We shared a lemon tart in an adorable pastry shop downtown.  Being in his presence just makes me happy.  He is my son.  He is also a thoughtful and intuitive soul.  Conversations with Ben are meaningful and layered.  They often take time to unfold and are complex.  And we had time. . . and we took our time. . . and we talked. . . and we sat in silence. . . and we talked. . .  and we soaked up the energy created by the beauty of our surroundings and our conversation.

Being in his presence just makes me happy.

good friday

"Hurt people hurt people. That’s how pain patterns gets passed on, generation after generation after generation. Break the chain today. Meet anger with sympathy, contempt with compassion, cruelty with kindness. Greet grimaces with smiles. Forgive and forget about finding fault. Love is the weapon of the future."   --Yehuda Berg
 

 

It's Good Friday and I am always moved to tears when I think about the events surrounding Jesus' death.  The extent of his suffering is almost unbearable to imagine.  The depth of His love for us is overwhelming.

It is also confusing.  I often struggle to make sense of it all.  And then I realize (once again) that I will never fully understand it.  I read something awhile back that described Jesus' response to the events leading up to his crucifixion.  The article stated that Jesus could have responded to his situation with power but instead he responded with Love.  I've been thinking about that all week.

This morning, I did a quick search to see if I could find the article online.  no luck.   As a result of this search, however, I did learn something new,  "systemic theology"-- "Systematic theology is a discipline which addresses theological topics one by one (e.g. God, Sin, Humanity) and attempts to summarize all the biblical teaching on each particular subject. Sometimes called constructive theology or even dogmatic theology, the goal is to present the major themes (i.e. doctrines) of the Christian faith in an organized and ordered overview that remains faithful to the biblical witness."

Interesting.

I read about systematic theology as I was reading an essay that describes Jesus' crucifixion. It's written by Dr. Gerard Hall, a professor of Systemic Theology.  As I meditate on the events leading up to Jesus' death, the essay reminds me that, "The suffering and death of Jesus, along with all other instances of violence and murder, are ultimately outside the powers of rational explanation. The most we can do is to acknowledge in faith that the mystery of God's love is finally more powerful than evil and death. Jesus' death, too, needs to be recognised in this light." 

Dr. Gerard Hall writes...

The killing of Jesus
It is safe to say that Jesus was not crucified because he taught love and forgiveness or because he set about debating legal points with the scribes of his day. Jesus was crucified because he was seen as a threat to the powers-that-be. His brand of non-violent resistance, his manner of stirring the people and empowering the poor, were correctly judged to be challenging the political power structures of his day.

None of this is to suggest that Jesus was a political rebel (a zealot), but it is to state that his mission of proclaiming the reign of God had profound political implications. Such implications became more evident in view of Jesus' actions in 'the cleansing of the temple'. Now the temple was not just a place. The temple was the symbol of the entire Jewish faith and its religious authority structure. Significantly, in two passion narratives the charge is brought against Jesus that he 'threatened' the temple. In effect, what is being stated is that his teachings and actions were threatening the very basis of Jewish life. Although the gospel-writers refute this claim, there is evidence to suggest that in both subtle and profound ways, Jesus certainly did challenge some of the central practices and institutions of Jewish life.

This radical challenge to Judaism could be described in terms of bringing about a new nearness of God to people which would have the effect of eliminating--at least significantly decreasing--the need for human mediators. Jesus' mission very clearly implied the right of everyone to address God as 'Father'. This meant that the Jewish leaders, especially the chief priests and sadduccees mentioned in the passion stories, had good reason to suspect that Jesus' radicalized religion did threaten their own roles and status.

A couple of things can be said about the charges brought against Jesus by the Jewish sanhedrin. First, they imply that Jesus' mission was not altogether a failure. Significant numbers of people, including some from the Jewish ruling classes, had come to a point of accepting that Jesus was indeed a true prophet, perhaps even the Messiah for whom Israel had been waiting. Second, this achievement was a very real threat to the status of lawful authority. If Jesus was seen as 'Christ' and 'Lord' to some, this very fact threatened the familiar lordship of others, notably the chief priests and scribes. Consequently, Jesus was a problem to the Jewish hierarchy from both religious and political perspectives.

However, none of this explains the involvement of Pilate and the Roman authorities. Despite the trumped-up charge of blashpemy that is brought against Jesus, it is important to recognize that he was sentenced to death by the Romans on the charge of political treason: "He claimed to be King of the Jews". This messianic title had very clear political implications. Luke's gospel expands on this charge: "We found this man perverting our nation, and forbidding us to give tribute to Caesar, and saying that he himself is Christ, a king" (23:1). The point here is that, to the Roman occupiers of Israel, Jesus could well have been perceived as a would-be revolutionary. At the very least, Pilate and the Roman authorities had good reasons to put a stop to the Jesus-movement on the basis of its subversive possibilities.

Although there are many unknowns with regard to the events surrounding Jesus' death, we can surmise that there was a deal struck between the Jewish leaders and the Roman authorities. Both had a stake in eliminating Jesus' brand of religon: the Jewish leaders had power and status to protect; the Romans were more concerned with law and order.

It is generally recognized that the gospel narratives place most of the responsibility for Jesus' death on the Jews rather than the Romans. At best, this is unbalanced reporting. At worst, it suggests an anti-semitic bias in early christianity. To put the record straight, Jesus did die at the hands of the Romans and in the manner of a Roman execution (the Jews did not have power to crucify). Nonetheless, it is impossible to construct an account of Jesus' trial and crucifixion that does not implicate the Jewish leaders of the day. All this points to the intimate connection between religion and politics in the Jewish society of Jesus' time.

The crucifixion and death of Jesus should always be seen in context of his life and ministry. Although Jesus was not concerned with establishing a political kingdom, his teachings on God's reign were deeply challenging of traditional Jewish institutions and practices. Jesus took a dangerous path: he attacked power and wealth; he overturned social attitudes that oppressed 'unclean' or 'unworthy' people; he taught the need for prayer and self-sacrificing service; he called people to freedom and empowerment in the face of injustice; he named the religious elite a 'breed of vipers' for its manner of sponging off the poor and the needy. In other words, Jesus made enemies among the Jewish leaders and their Roman overlords. These wealthy and powerful elite came to be threatened to the point that they needed to do away with him.


Jesus' approach to his death

What then can we say about Jesus' own understanding of his approaching death? Since the crucifixion and death of Jesus were the result of his life and ministry, we can rightly assume that he must have reckoned with the possibility of death well prior to the end of his ministry. Jesus was neither a blind fanatic nor a fool. He was aware of the beheading of John the Baptist and he knew of the tragic fates of many prophets before him. Also, many of the charges levelled against Jesus--casting out demons in the name of Beelzebub, being a false prophet, breaking the sabbath, the accusation of blasphemy--were traditionally punishable through death by stoning.

Consequently, there can be no doubt that Jesus' journey to Jerusalem was the result of a deliberate and conscious decision to face danger including the danger of death itself. He knew of the growing opposition to him and his mission. Yet, despite this, he chose to make the trip to Jerusalem at the time of the Passover, a time when huge masses of people would be gathered in the city.

Why would Jesus make such a dangerous choice? The decision to go to Jerusalem marks the end of Jesus' Galilean ministry. It acts as a symbolic gesture of his explicit refusal to accept the way of a political messiah. In spite of this, the disciples still pin their hopes on a worldly kingdom. Jesus' frustration with their blindness becomes a recurring theme in the gospel narratives of the Jerusalem journey. People may hail him as a wonder-worker, king or messiah, but they still fail to comprehend his real message and mission.

Jesus discerns that his mission of proclaiming God's reign on earth will not be achieved through more of the same. Different strategies are needed. We see that Jesus becomes more confrontational in his approach (the temple scene); the radical edge to his teaching becomes more central. Jerusalem, the symbolic centre of Israel, was the logical place for Jesus to take his message. Perhaps Jesus thought that the religious capital would be more open to his teaching. His triumphant ride into Jerusalem suggests an initial enthusiasm--but, again, the people are disillusioned when they learn that Jesus does not intend to be a political messiah of their making.

In fact, the tide quickly turns. The hailed one becomes the decried one! There would still be opportunity for Jesus to retreat. However, by now he knew that a retreat from Jerusalem would be the retreat from his mission of proclaiming God's reign of love and mercy for all. In any case, he was too well known; there was little chance of hiding in the Galilean hills. And to take the escapist option of renouncing his mission was not a line of action that Jesus would countenance. So, in the face of an increasingly hostile opposition, Jesus grows to accept that the remote possibility of death has become an impending probability. Then the realisation dawns that there is no escape; death is certain.

Notwithstanding the violent death that Jesus was to undergo, he was also faced with the inevitable question of how to reconcile this impending reality with the message of God's love and salvation. How could the God of love allow such a painful and violent death? How could the reign of God be achieved through such evil and injustice? Jesus, who understood himself at least in terms of God's special envoy, could not have avoided facing such questions.

In assessing Jesus' response, we should be careful to avoid two extremes. First, we should distance ourselves from the approach that says that Jesus went to his death with feelings of despair and total abandonment by God. The words of the psalm attributed to Jesus on the Cross--"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"--, even if historical, need to be read in terms of the complete psalm which is, ultimately, a prayer of trust in God despite the evil that surrounds us. Jesus' whole life was lived in the belief of God's utter fidelity. Such belief would not abandon Jesus even in these most tragic circumstances of his bloody crucifixion.

Second, it is most important that we do not paint Jesus going to his death as a passive victim who was blindly fulfilling some pre-ordained divine plan. It is wrong to think that the human, historical Jesus had some kind of immediate access to God's will for him. Jesus made his life-decisions in the way that we all do: in the face of uncertainty and risk. He prays that he will come to know the Father's will and make the right decisions in view of his prayer and discernment. Aware of the risks, Jesus had made the crucial decision to take his mission to the heart of Judaism. Now he knows he must live with the consequences of that decision, including death itself.

The events surrounding the last supper and the agony in the garden are recorded in such a way to show that Jesus went to his death freely and deliberately--not because he actively chose death itself, but because he continued to commit himself to the mission of the kingdom in the face of opposition and evil. The act of the cup and bread at the 'last supper' symbolises the totality of Jesus' life, a life lived in loving service of others. Now Jesus is challenged to integrate the failure of his mission and his impending death into his life of 'service in love'. In other words, Jesus' death was marked by the same attitude that constituted his entire life. Perhaps Jesus simply believed that the promises of God would be fulfilled despite his death and the apparent failure of his mission. Or it may be that Jesus saw in a veiled way that his death would be a 'ransom for many', that is, an event that God would use to bring about the kingdom-community of justice, love and peace.

Interpreting Jesus' death

In the early Jesus-movement, the suffering and death of Jesus came to be interpreted in many different ways. For some, the death of Jesus was seen as a sign that he was the eschatological prophet-martyr. After all, the Jewish tradition is full of stories of in which the true prophets are killed. The fact that Jesus was killed shows that he is the true prophet-martyr, in fact, the definitive or eschatological figure. This interpretation did not ascribe any particular theological significance to Jesus' death. It is Jesus himself, his person and mission, that is the central focus. Jesus' death merely shows that he is the one who is the 'true light of the world'.

Another interpretation focussed on the suffering of Jesus as an indication that he was the 'righteous one', the suffering Son of Man. Before prophets are killed, they are rejected and despised. Here there is a tendency to see suffering as the hallmark of God's endorsement of the true prophet. Consequently, Jesus' suffering is read in accordance with the divine plan of salvation. However, within this approach, the death of Jesus does not figure with any degree of prominence and is not, in itself, theologically important.

A third approach, however, did focus primarily on Jesus' death as a redemptive and atoning act. This is summarized in the Pauline formula which states that Jesus 'died for us on account of our sins' (Romans 4:25). The understanding developed that Jesus' suffering and death were 'saving realities'. This meant that the focus of attention moved from the person and mission of Jesus to the cross as an 'atoning sacrifice'. From this there develops a theology of salvation that is centred on the crucifixion and which reads the cross as a positive act of God which 'expiated the sins of the world'.

These various interpretations of Jesus' death witness to the struggle to make meaning out of the act of evil that brought Jesus' earthly life and mission to such an abrupt and cruel end. However we make sense of this human tragedy, it is imperative that we do see it first and foremost as a tragedy. Then, of course, we may well recognise that God can and does overturn evil and convert it into good. This is what came to be called in the Christian tradition the 'law of the cross'. Nonetheless, God does not condone evil, let alone require it in order to fulfill the divine plan of salvation. The suffering and death of Jesus, along with all other instances of violence and murder, are ultimately outside the powers of rational explanation. The most we can do is to acknowledge in faith that the mystery of God's love is finally more powerful than evil and death. Jesus' death, too, needs to be recognised in this light."

this is why we practice

Another post from Danielle LaPorte. . . and from my heart. . .

"You will be called on to expand. And this is why we practice."

I travelled to Dharamshala, India with six friends to meet with The Dalai Lama. It was cell-altering and heart-expanding. (The story is here.)

The week before our arrival, there had been a horrible event in which some monks were murdered — most shockingly, by other monks. The story was on everyone’s mind and in our small, private meeting with His Holiness, the first thing we did was offer our condolences. His response captivated me.

“Ah, yes, thank you for your thoughts,” he said. “This is why we practice, for times like these when compassion is so necessary.” He didn’t nod in mutual disdain. He didn’t show any drama. He was soft and … practical.

This is why we practice.

For times like these.

You don’t need to forgive until you need to forgive. You don’t need nerves of steel until you need nerves of steel. You don’t need to call on your reserves of compassion, or fortitude, or faith until you’ve used up everything else.

This is why we practice.

This is why, that even when life is ambling along nicely and there’s food in our spiritual cupboard, we still make sure that we get to yoga, or the reading group, or Sunday services.

When we’re healthy and happy we make sure to dance, we hit the court, we pick up the phone to check in, we drop by with something in hand.

When we’re believing in the fairness and the glory of human nature and the so-called Fates, we keep seeking, and meditating on reality, and praying for healing though nothing obvious ails us.

We keep standing up to make our art even when we could be predictable pedestrians.

Because the day will most certainly come, as it does whether you are a whole-hearted Lover or in denial of Grace, that you will be struck down or ground down by life. It can come in tiny tearing heartbreaks five times a day, just walking through your neighbourhood. It could come in the name of tragedy that could only happen once in a lifetime.

And you will need to withdraw the insights that you put into your heart’s escrow. And you will need to call on your people — the unseen and the ones right in front of you — to help you meet the day.

You will be interrupted.
You will be called on to expand.
You will be asked who you are and why you are here.

This is why we practice.