Friday, January 03, 2020

New Year

It's been a while since I've last wrote on this blog. The combination of a kitchen reno, vacations and, eventually, going back to a very busy and stressful year at work has sapped my energy, but I am hoping to write more in the coming year. Of course, I say that each year in the tone of a resolution, so we'll see about my follow through.

Today what I'm trying to do is simply write down the things which are on my mind and heart to reflect on- more or less in the form of a teaser trailer. I'm not sure if I'm trying to tease myself into writing or whether I'm teasing the reader into reading. We'll see on that too. So, here is what is on my mind on this third day of 2020.

First, my church's youth group is on my mind and heart. For the last year or so, I've been trying to find a way to walk away from this ministry, which I had taken up as an interim thing, telling myself that now that my son is hitting the youth group age, I should step aside because it would be weird for him. It is, he has told me, weird for him, but he's okay with that as it turns out. So, excuse number one is out. And, since then, I've been feeling like God isn't accepting my carefully crafted resignation letter. That means, I'm going to need to try to figure how to do this youth group thing after all.

The truth is, to put it in a nutshell, that I don't have the foggiest about what to do with a youth group. Well, I did get to a helpful conference in November and had a useful meeting with our area youth coordinator, so some of the fog has lifted. It has lifted enough for me to see that what I really need to work out what is my 'end-game' (or, rather God's end-game) with this group. That is, what are we hoping to see for our youth. I'm resisting answering that too quickly, largely because I went through a similar process a few years ago in my teaching and taking the time to reflect on that question was a good thing because that question, truly engaged with, is key to accepting this call I've been resisting.  And, besides, I also know I'm going to need help answering that huge overwhelming question. Until I have a better sense of what I'm doing this for, I'm not going to penetrate the fog far enough to settle into the work properly. So, I'm sure there is lots more reflection to come on this topic.

Second, another theme that I've been reflecting on lately is what place learning has in my life. That isn't exactly a new area of reflection for me because, over the years, I've had questions about my approach to learning. On one hand, I have to acknowledge that, for much of my life, a lot of my desire to learn has been inherently selfish. That is, I often saw knowledge as a way to build self-esteem (if I'm in a PhD program, I must be smart)  or power (because I know more than you- the more obscure the better). Those are incentives to learning, admittedly, but I don't think that they wear well because the pit that they try to fill is just that cavernous. They are, in many ways, a substitute for the place that hole in me which nothing else fits, but God. Realizing that has been important because it has alerted me something which, like all good things, can become an idol, if I let it. I'd be lying if I said that I have set that particular idol down- thinking of knowledge as power or self-importance is simply to ingrained in my thinking. But, at least, I usually see those motivations and have a suitable level of mistrust of them. 

On the other hand, learning has been a real source of fulfillment which isn't about the ego-boost, but rather about a joy that I haven't been able to explain before. Even after I've stripped away the negative motivations for knowledge, I've found that there is something left- a desire and a happiness in simply understanding someone or something in God's world. A key mantra for me this year has been the title of a wonderful book with a wonderful title:  The Love of Learning and the Desire for God by Jean LeClerc.  The book itself is about monastic culture and theology in the Middle Ages, but what the title and the book seem to do is to connect that one's love of learning about the world is directly linked to our desire for God. That is, a love of learning can be an expression of one's desire for God because it is learning about God's world as an expression of a desire to learn about God and our neighbour. That invites a certain 'sapiential approach to learning' in which what we learn is not about learning factoids to show off with, but to see the world as it is and as God made it.  For me, that joyful act of learning comes, firstly, through history (the study of humanity through time) and theology -two disciplines whose practicality may seem less than obvious, but ask the questions about the world and God which make sense to me. But that isn't the only areas that this approach to learning would work.

Yet, I have to admit here too that I really am not entirely sure what all this means. I'm not sure how to go about having a 'sapiential approach to learning'. I only know joy when I see it. Maybe that is all I have to know. Maybe it really is about keeping a beginners mind and staying open to learning more.

Lastly, I've been reflecting on how to live a peaceable life amid conflict. This theme has been highlighted in recent months because,  in my work life, I'm finding myself in the midst of conflicts which are much larger than me. My union is locked in a fight with the province over cuts and, while I support that fight, it isn't one I have a lot of control over. That is hard, especially as I try to shepherd my classes and extra-curricular groups through a highly turbulent time. Much of the stress in the last few weeks has been, for me, about some major events I'm still trying to work on, but might be jeopardized, depending on how this conflict goes. However, most of my attention has been on nurturing the communities that I belong amid these conflicts.

I've been here before. I have the wounds to show it. The worst was 2013 when extra-curriculars were shut down for three months and the uncertainty and tension were palpable. Yet, my students, my colleagues and I got through that. And we'll get through this. What all this brings up for me are questions like; how to fight for what is important, but remaining compassionate for those around me? How to look for hope, when prospects look bad? How to calmly respond, when I'm full of anxiety for the future? Again, no answers for these questions, but I still think they are important to ask.

So, that is where I am right now, at the beginning of a New Year. We'll see where all this goes.