Starting the War

The history books are all written from war to war. Each section of peace is written only as a necessary break between what we consider truly important. While it might be a stretch to say we define ourselves by suffering, it is not so far to say that we define our lives by conflict.

Conflict, after all, precedes growth. One of the summer's themes was stepping out of one's comfort zone in order to grow. This is our way of maturing. We float along until we reach the rapids, and after we've gone through them, we believe we are stronger/wiser/better in some way. It is the most natural way of thinking about growth.

Should it be?

It seems as though we give an unfair advantage toward suffering as the primary life changer. As if happiness, boredom, comfort, friendship or love couldn't make us grow quite as much pain. The reason is probably disillusionment. Coming into the world, we're young and full of hope, but the more pain we experience, the more adulterated we become - disillusioned from the fantasy of a wonderful world rising up to meet us in the morning with a smile. The world is more painful the older we get. There are wars, deaths, torturous ironies and innocent victims. But for every one of these trifles, there are weddings, sunsets, a charitable donation or a smile from a stranger.

Why is pain given such a monopoly on growth?

Maturity in itself is judged by suffering - we continually try to prove to others that we are experiencing more suffering than they could. At the same time, we won't allow ourselves to claim that anyone suffers more than anyone else. It's a strange dichotomy between wanting to one- up and be even.

When thinking about some of the older leaders in the program - their large houses, beautiful families and strong convictions about Christ - it's such a gut reaction for me to think, "What do you know about pain? What do you know about suffering?" And I judge them by it. It's incredibly unfair - I don't know anything about these people, their histories, their tribulations, but judging them by their apparent lifestyle is an easy way to discredit. It's false, but easy (like most false things).

But on the other hand, isn't it hard to listen to someone speak about the difficulties and sacrifices of being a Christian while they sip a gourmet cup of coffee by the roaring fireplace in their six-bedroom house? This brings up a question of blessings - and it's a hard one I think. Perhaps these gifts they've received are from God - their nice homes and nice cars - but for what? If God loves us equally, why would he choose to give so much to some and so little to others? Isn't the man barely scraping by, tithing what little he has to his church and laying his life down for Christ entitled to the same gifts as the guy whose shoes he's shining?

Plus, why would God bestow worldly gifts as blessings for true believers? Aren't we to turn away from worldly things? Isn't there a huge disconnect between Christ, roaming the hot desert with nothing and the upper middle class Christian who gets upset when his Lexus gets dented? Isn't rejecting material possessions (or less-severely, wealth) part of the ultimate trust-fall with God? And if we can't leave our money behind, do we actually believe in God? Aren't we sort of hedging our bets?

Although questionable, this disconnect haunts me.

It would be foolish to leave our money behind. (But isn't Christianity sort of foolish?) But what I see more and more are blessings that are horded. If these gifts really are from God for (I don't know...being a "good" Christian) whatever reason, shouldn't they be shared with others? Shouldn't we be living as poorly as we can while using that money to help others?

Pain is tough to get away from. Christianity is defined by it. The Passion is the most crucial action of Jesus' life. His agony on the cross defines him. Pain, suffering, sacrifice proves his maturity and his love for all of humanity. If we are seeking to be Christlike, why do we always leave this one out? No one realizes the pain that Christ lived with constantly or the pain he endured to die. I am not sure what it means to be Christlike outside of this context. And yet, why is it that pain should be the thing to define us all?

I'm not so sure it should.