Begin Again

My best friend Paige has been haranguing me for years to read East of Eden, John Steinbeck's 1952 novel often described as a modern retelling of the book of Genesis. So, I purchased the book a year ago. In typical form, I am just now reading it, and along side, I am also rereading the book of Genesis. There is no question which book I will finish first-East of Eden is about 600 pages long, a fact which was the main contributor to me putting off this read for a year. This is a change for me, to pick up a really fat book and agree to read it at this time of year. And frankly, I'm not all that excited about it. But I know it will be good for me.

Change is all around us right now, being as it is the start of a new school year. My oldest daughter enters high school this year, and my youngest will enter 5th grade. One will be a peon in a sea of near-adults, and the other will rule a school full of tiny children. It is also the start of a new Church year (of course, the liturgical calendar starts the new year with Advent, but for practical purposes, all churches tend to launch their new year in line with the rest of the world, which is driven by cultural timing, which is in turn driven by the school year).

"In the beginning" will be an appropriate prepositional phrase for this fall. It is a time to start new, and to make new changes. Without change, whether it be in school, in church, or in our own personal habits, we do not grow. We do not improve. Cells without change are stagnant. They die.

Many people are afraid of change. In fact, if we are honest, we are all afraid of change. Change is scary. We don't know if the changes we make are the "right" changes. But the worst thing we can do in this fear is to let it rule us. I think many of us over a certain age could take a lesson from my daughters, who are so very open to the new changes that are going to happen in their lives. I know I can.

I respect people who are simply not open to change if they are honest about it, and if they don't make it all about their anger or throwing stones because others do school, or church, or home life, differently. I cannot respect those who don't like a certain way of doing things and instead of finding their own path of doing, they simply stick around to cause chaos.

So, let us begin again. Choose your goals for this fall. Mine include actually finishing a long, fat book that Paige guilted me into reading (not the first, by the way), launching new or improved groups at Nativity to help people grow in their relationship with Christ, and being a more available wife, mom, daughter and friend. Oh, and it is also my goal to be quiet about the way other people make their own changes, unless it is to praise them.

What are your goals? And are they about actually being a better person, as Christ would have us be, or are they about causing chaos in the lives of others who embrace change, or different change from you?

This is not a rhetorical question.

Stuck in the middle with You

Ok, all you older people out there, I have a song reference for you that relates to my musings tonight. This is for all you who “smoked” candy gum cigarettes purchased at the 7-Eleven for 25 cents, remember Watergate, were born before the Ford Administration, and bought the Iran-Contra Tower Commission Report in college the day that it came out (that last one might have been the action of just one dorky Poly Sci major at Penn State). You’ll remember this song, Stuck in the Middle with You, by the relatively obscure band Stealers Wheel. This song struck me today because of the title. I feel stuck in the middle. Stuck between two worlds:

1. My “old” world of hanging out with cynical attorneys who all dislike other attorneys except their present company, are constantly unimpressed by the performance of everyone around them, and are blessed to have incredible financial resources. Hey, that's just who we are: the hard to please, grouchy, highly compensated lawyers of the world.

2. My “new” world of hanging out with relatively young people who are not cynical (or at least far less cynical), and who are constantly energized and yet intimidated by working to glorify God. These people would be horrified to find out how much money I in fact did waste in my “old” world. They might also be horrified to know what I allow my kids to read or what I watch on TV.

I feel pulled between two worlds, and I dance between them sometimes. On Saturday, I spent the day with my law school friends at an upscale spa in Manayunk, Philadelphia. The four of us get together once or twice a year to catch up with each other, not to mention spend money at a spa. Of the four of us, all of whom have been practicing law just 15 years, making us relative youngsters in a profession where practicing into your 80s is a norm, no one is in love with the law. Two tolerate it and appreciate the financial security of the profession, one barely tolerates it and has gone part-time, and one has walked away from it altogether. It’s always great conversation, and sarcasm prevails. We laugh hard. We crack each other up. Hey, we're witty. But it is, by its very nature, not joy-filled conversation. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy seeing my good friends, but we are lawyers. Joy is not in our lexicon. And as for faith, that is not a safe topic of conversation. There is a wide chasm between our individual beliefs (or lack thereof) in God.

The next day, Sunday, I prepared myself to work towards being as joy-filled as this crusty lawyer can muster, and was honestly excited at the opportunity to reach people for Christ. I spent no money (Saturday was enough spending for both days). At Nativity, the purpose we all share drives us even through challenging Sundays, and that purpose also gives a measurable amount of peace.

Sometimes it seems like my life choices, and the choices I make for my family, can never be reconciled in either of these two worlds. I can’t make both worlds completely happy. One circle might disagree with the way I spend my Sundays (and most other days of the week, for that matter). The other might disagree with my remaining attachments to world, its money, and its institutions. It’s a lose-lose situation. Right?

And then it hits me. It’s not my job to please either circle, not ultimately. I was not put where I am to please lawyer friends or church friends. My purpose is not really tied to people at all. When I get frustrated that others might not respect the choices I have made (and I know some do not), it is my own fault for losing focus of whom I am working for. I’m working for God.

With snarky apologies to my great friends in both worlds, and to quote Stealers Wheel, "clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am stuck in the middle with You."

I’ll take that over being anywhere else.