'Tis a Gift to be Simple

All my life, I have wrestled with the tension between wanting a simple life and feeling pulled to do great things.  My decisions have been somewhere in the middle of these two ideas, and different seasons of life have entailed leaning more towards one or the other.

This year, I've longed for more time, more rest, and more freedom to do my own thing rather then being responsible to others.  But it's also been clear that this season is not about doing my own thing, so I've learned to accept commitment, responsibility, and all the stress and fatigue that come with those things.

Last week, during Homegroup, I realized that the way I live simply this year is by trusting wholly. It's worked every time I've tried it.  Each week, I wonder whether I'll make it through, and somehow, I do.

As Thanksgiving approaches, I am reminded of the fact that

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come 'round right.
(from the Shaker Melody, "Simple Gifts")

Hope

Fall in New England is a glorious affair.  The leaves turn all shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. Each day brings new transformation, and autumn sunshine illuminates the beauty of changing foliage.

By November, though, most of the trees are bare, and the leaves have either been trampled on or swept away.  Still, there is beauty in the bleakening landscape.  The show is over, but we're still here, say the naked branches and tree trunks.

I thought about this today during my weekly trek from the Divinity School down to Yale's main campus, and I thought about how exposure is good.  When the glory and the show end, we're left with skeletons and structures.  We see clearly what's behind the facade. This is what is happening at Yale.  

Last Friday, the Dean of YDS held a listening session to hear from students of color.  Most of those who spoke were women, and the honesty was raw and brutal at times, hopeful and encouraging in other moments.  Everyone in the room was profoundly affected--even destabilized--by the conversation.

Over the weekend, I had some time to recover from an intense week, which had begun with me stopping by Monday's March of Resilience at Yale; progressed into spending hours on Facebook reading articles, writing posts, and fielding questions and comments from West Coast friends (mostly Asian males, interestingly); and finally ended with Friday's conversation at the Divinity School.

Over the weekend, I took some international students on a hike and scored a goal in the YDS Paracleats' semi-final soccer game.  I went to church, worked on papers, and tried to get some sleep. I also attended a planning meeting for a special chapel service that happened this morning--in solidarity for Yale Undergrads.  

This chapel service has been a long time in coming.  Last spring, there were hints of revival at YDS, especially during chapel services featuring the Gospel Choir.  When you see students across cultures and denominations all being physically and emotionally moved by praise music, you know that change can't be far away.

This morning, chapel lasted longer than usual.  More faculty, staff, and students attended than usual. And the music spoke more powerfully than usual.

By the end of the service, we'd all formed a large circle, linking arms, holding hands, and singing "Break Every Chain" and "Lean on Me."  Several voices had spoke--women and men of color, reading in various languages (I did Lamentations 3:53 in Chinese)--and many other voices had sung in unison to music of hope and strength.  

Since the beginning of this semester, I have been spiritually drained but fiercely hopeful.  I had a feeling that new wine was getting ready to be poured into our community, but new wine needs new wineskins.

***I had to take a break from this blog post to put this on Facebook:

Singing in Solidarity for an extended chapel service with the Gospel Choir--and hearing from a variety of cultures and languages--this is exactly what Yale Divinity School needed, and I am so grateful for and exhausted from an amazing day on campus!

All semester long--in fact, I sensed this as early as this past summer--I have been telling my fellow sisters of color that new wine is getting ready to be poured into our community. But new wine needs new wineskins, otherwise things will explode. It is now clear to me that new wineskins means systemic and institutional changes, and that the time to fight for those things is now. So proud of my sisters and brothers who have taken such initiative to take action, and so honored to stand with you!

Thanksgiving is next week, and I have so much for which to be grateful.  

When I accepted the position of Community Life Co-Coordinator at YDS, I knew I was getting myself into a lot more than I could handle.  Every week, I've had to ask for Grace and lean into that Grace.  I've made it thus far, and I will make it to the end.

When I began my CLC job, I was emotionally and spiritually drained by the abundance of meetings and events I had to attend or put on.  I hated walking onto campus because I could feel how needy and broken people were, and interaction after interaction would suck the life out of me.  I was happy to escape downtown two days a week to get away from the Div School.

Today's walk downtown felt different, though.  The pain of loving my YDS Community had lessened.  I had been loving it even when it hurt me.  But today, that love gave me energy and fulfillment.  The change that I had been fighting and praying for was rearing is beautiful head, and others were finally catching onto it.

I feel as if the burden has lifted.  The intense spiritual warfare in which I've been fighting has taken a turn towards victory.  Sisters and brothers of all colors have been roused to action.  And yes, I count white as a color--I celebrate the fact that we cannot do this without the support of our white friends!

I know that the burden has been lifted because the baton has been passed on to this incoming class at YDS--this vibrant, confident, and passionate group of students who have taken our campus by storm. I told them today: this is your time.  I'm just here to support you and stand by you.  You are the new wine, and I'm on my way out.  If I can clear the path for you, I'm willing.  And I will continue engaging in spiritual warfare on your behalf.

They said to me: we feel your prayers, because it has been so easy to be ourselves in this space and to do what's important to us.  

God is so faithful to his daughters.  He has provided a way out, and He is raising up mighty women to sing and dance upon injustice!

Amen.

Running, Rain, Race

You know your life is crazy when a class has to schedule a working brunch on a Saturday.

You know you're an introvert when you nearly cry one night because you feel like you have too many friends--and too many parties of people want to schedule a fall foliage roadtrip with you.

All week, there has been rain.  That may be the only consistent thing about it.

Monday night, before the rain started, I went running with a friend.  3 miles, longer than I've run in a good while, and I felt invincible.

Then, a sore throat Tuesday morning.  Subdued atmosphere at the Divinity School, due to rain.  Something feels off in the community.  But at least my class downtown, in the undergrad American Studies department is wonderful and life-giving!

Wednesday, another life-giving class at Yale Law School, followed by lunch with our artist-in-residence, a playwright.  Afternoon finds me sipping sherry at the Institute of Sacred Music's weekly colloquium.  What a collegial atmosphere of musicians, artists, literary-types, and scholars!  We have a house dinner in the evening, and it's less awkward than our first--we're warming up to one another now.  Although, I go to bed that night wondering if I'm starting to become a bit like a Tiger mom in the house, what with reminding my younger house-sister and brothers to do their chores and pay me back for the cleaning supplies I purchase.

Thursday is a roller coaster.  Sitting in class in the morning, there is this ache in my heart.  It won't go away, so I decide to.  I leave school and head home to give myself a minute in solitude.  When I finally return to campus, I run into two of my dearest friends.  We talk in the hallway.  We go into the chapel to pray.  More talking, more of the Spirit flows through our communion as we meet more people and continue to talk.  Then, I go to a class on Contemporary Christian Spirituality, whose topic is of utmost interest but whose instructor and class format drains the life out of me.  I can't wait to go to my church home group at night.  When I finally make it over there, there is food, fellowship, deep sharing, and listening prayer.  

Friday, and I've slept 10 hours as I continue fighting off this cold that has been encroaching upon me all week.  I have lunch at a local church, which I do not attend but where I feel very much at home.  I get some work done--first inside my car while it rains outside, and then in a coffee shop.  I come home for dinner.  I attend an evening event, held inside our chapel--one of the leaders of the Black Lives Matter movement has come to Yale Divinity School, and the students who have shown up--as well as members of the community--are ready to talk about and not around the issue of race.  The energy is so incredibly positive; it lacks the cynicism and bitterness that I have often felt at YDS.  There is new wine ready to be poured out into our community, and the new wineskin is being stretched and formed.

We hang out for the reception until late.  I don't feel drained.  I feel energized by the people who are here.  My pastor and his wife have also come--he is a YDS alum.  There is spontaneous singing and dancing as one man plays the piano and leads us in call-and-response lines.  There is a lot of laughing.  And hugs all around.  This is what community is.  This is what it means to be a people.

The rain continues to pour as I head home, but I'm unfazed.  Something has broken through tonight.  All the oppressive humidity and cloudiness is behind us.  The rain is coming down, and new life is going to spring up.  YDS, get ready.  Change is coming, and we're all going to be a part of it!

A Snob

I am a snob.  A condolences snob.

It occurs to me that perhaps some people find it good to feel that others understand what they are going through during a time of loss.  "I know how you feel...I've been there before..." or, "This reminds me of the time I, similar to you, had this kind of experience."  Perhaps there is a sense of solidarity in knowing that the comforter has gone through something similar.

I'm not that kind of person.

I believe that one can never fully understand what another person is going through.  Anyone who has ever read anything about bereavement knows that when someone else is going through something excruciating and difficult, there are no words you can offer.  Just sit there and listen.

During the difficult times in my life, only a few friends have known how to be an empathetic presence. They have acknowledged that my situation is unique to me, and have sought to understand ways in which my losses are particular to my person.  I am forever grateful to those friends!

A Rant

When I'm tired I rant, and I'm feeling chronically exhausted these days.

So, some thoughts:

The church tends to favor:

Males
Married
Musicians

I'm not male, I'm not married, and I don't like to market myself as a musician.  I've always felt like an outsider to church leadership, even though I've always known that my spiritual life is much stronger than many in church leadership.  This is why I have no interest in going into "ministry." My work is always more valued and appreciated in the secular setting--hence the pull towards chaplaincy.

Yale Divinity School tends to enable:

Episcopalians
Extroverts
Egoists

I'm not Episcopalian, I'm not an extrovert, and I'm continually asking God to work on my ego.  I thrived at Yale Divinity School last year because I refused to be a part of the system, and my refusal to get sucked in gave me the freedom to blossom and be myself.  This year, I am an unwilling part of the system because of my role as Community Life Co-Coordinator, and my task is to be a humble yet bold agent of change in the culture of this school.

A friend asked me last week what I was looking forward to this year.  I said, "Graduating!"

As much as I've loved the opportunity to study at Yale Divinity School, I also feel that my first year was too wonderful to be repeated, and I'd like to move on.  Year Two has been tiring already, and most days I'm too exhausted to even put my rants into writing.  So whenever you see that I've blogged, you'll know that I actually got enough sleep for once and have enough time to sit down and actually write!  Thank goodness for that on this Sunday =)

Swimming by Moonlight

Quarter-mile, low-tide Sound
Four friends under moonlight found
Our titles, stress, and clothing shed
Into night's warmth and water--led,
pulled by spontaneity,
We ventured far as eye could see
No fear of sharks or drowning, for
Our salty swimming pool's floor
Was firm and soft beneath our feet
And night's dark shadows just as sweet
As friendship's bond--a baptism
blends past and future like a prism.

Relaxing

Oh, the joys of having the house to myself for the day!

My four roommates are all at Orientation--two of them are volunteering as returning students, and two of them are attending as new students.

I used this opportunity to do some cleaning, wiping down countertops and stove tops and doing some bathroom cleaning.  There is something quite cathartic about getting on one's hands and knees to scrub a bathtub and clean a dirty floor.

It will all get dirty and messy again, but it did my soul good to take care of the spaces that I (and my roommates) inhabit. If only cleaning one's heart were so easy.

My weekend was jam-packed.  Orientation all day Saturday for the Institute of Sacred Music, where I met tons of interesting people and felt incredibly privileged to be invited to a community of scholars of the sacred and the arts.  The Professors in the ISM are wonderful, and I gleaned so much just from the cursory introductions.

On Sunday I attended 3 separate church services--making up, I suppose, for 3 Sundays in August when I traveled to and in California.

I've also had meetings for my new Community Life Coordinator job, and those will continue onwards until graduation.

I have bitten off way more than I can chew for a year's worth of work and community involvement, and I have no idea how I will do this.  I keep turning to the hope of finding rest in Sabbath, whether that involves scrubbing bathtubs in an empty house...or fleeing to Nature when the weather cools.

School has not even started yet, and already I am looking forward to being done with it next spring =)