Lisa and I went to Willimantic last night for an "Anti-Valentine" party. We were invited by a schoolmate I recently reconnected with on Facebook. I saw a few other people I knew from back in the day and met some new faces. We went to two clubs I'd never been to, and honestly wouldn't have if not for the nifty folks we were with who made them bearable. Not my scene at all. I'm way too old, too skinhead, too married. For the club clientele, that is; the crowd we went to hang out with had no problem being seen with us. And I thought that was pretty swell, given that their gathering was a sort of good-natured backlash against romance. It was actually rather an honour to have a huddle of thirtysomething singles let the most revoltingly cute married couple on the planet in on their fun.
My friend is a single mom who, like me, grew up overweight and felt the wrath of our culture for her "defect". It's amazing how focused and passionate the contempt and derision can be when you don't measure up to some arbitrary standard. And when it starts early in life, from all angles, even from family, it can stay with you long after people are no longer throwing it at you. The voices still bray inside your head, the shame and self-loathing carve deep ruts in your soul and you can't see yourself any other way. You know and fear loneliness like few do. And you tend to be prone to falling into unhealthy relationships because any attention at all is so intoxicating that you panic at the thought of losing it, especially when you're programmed to believe with total conviction that you're too undesirable to get it from anyone else. You have no concept of being able to choose from a position of strength.
For reasons like these, she hasn't done well with relationships, though by God she's tried. She loves her daughter and wants a man to share her life with who is willing to commit to them. Not much to ask, given that such is what God designed humans to do. And she is worth it. Better still, she is starting to learn that.
I am glad she reconnected with me on Facebook, and that she and Lisa get along swimmingly. When we were in the Dean's Office Cafe, surrounded by wannabe thugs and college tarts and pumping dollars into the jukebox to blow holes in the stream of Top 40 tripe with AC/DC and the Dropkick Murphys, she confessed that she was a bit afraid that we would hate what she turned into after a few drinks, which really wasn't a whole lot different from her sober self - bubbly, vivacious, friendly and pretty darned sweet. She was afraid our faith would cause us to cast a jaundiced eye on her. Apparently when God gets a hold of someone He sees to it that they don't have much stomach for someone letting their hair down.
Has it really come to that? Does my claiming the name of Christ really cause someone who doesn't know Him personally to expect the very opposite treatment from that which He exemplified in His earthly sojourn? The religious leaders of His day couldn't talk enough trash about His choice of company or the pursuits He engaged in with them. He was known for hanging out with far more notorious people than our friend could ever bring herself to be. Why should she expect His followers to turn their noses up at her when she's being nothing but herself?
That's pretty embarassing, and it's yet another reason for me to be thankful for the delightfully misshapen saints He's surrounded me and Lisa with. I can't play the church game anymore. I want to be like Christ, not like the neutered, Prozac'd mannequin that religion has held up in His place. If that means I drop some cash on a few pints and get my wife and I into cheap nightclubs to have deep conversations with hurting people whose lives aren't neat and tidy (as if ours ever were), then sign me up. I want the church to look more like a bunch of thirtysomething singles rallying around each other on barstools like a family to share each other's burdens, and less like a management seminar with tips and techniques on how to prop up the facade of Godly oblivion to real human need.
Jen, thank you for being seen with us. We love you. And so does God. I hope we can help Him to prove that to you.
My friend is a single mom who, like me, grew up overweight and felt the wrath of our culture for her "defect". It's amazing how focused and passionate the contempt and derision can be when you don't measure up to some arbitrary standard. And when it starts early in life, from all angles, even from family, it can stay with you long after people are no longer throwing it at you. The voices still bray inside your head, the shame and self-loathing carve deep ruts in your soul and you can't see yourself any other way. You know and fear loneliness like few do. And you tend to be prone to falling into unhealthy relationships because any attention at all is so intoxicating that you panic at the thought of losing it, especially when you're programmed to believe with total conviction that you're too undesirable to get it from anyone else. You have no concept of being able to choose from a position of strength.
For reasons like these, she hasn't done well with relationships, though by God she's tried. She loves her daughter and wants a man to share her life with who is willing to commit to them. Not much to ask, given that such is what God designed humans to do. And she is worth it. Better still, she is starting to learn that.
I am glad she reconnected with me on Facebook, and that she and Lisa get along swimmingly. When we were in the Dean's Office Cafe, surrounded by wannabe thugs and college tarts and pumping dollars into the jukebox to blow holes in the stream of Top 40 tripe with AC/DC and the Dropkick Murphys, she confessed that she was a bit afraid that we would hate what she turned into after a few drinks, which really wasn't a whole lot different from her sober self - bubbly, vivacious, friendly and pretty darned sweet. She was afraid our faith would cause us to cast a jaundiced eye on her. Apparently when God gets a hold of someone He sees to it that they don't have much stomach for someone letting their hair down.
Has it really come to that? Does my claiming the name of Christ really cause someone who doesn't know Him personally to expect the very opposite treatment from that which He exemplified in His earthly sojourn? The religious leaders of His day couldn't talk enough trash about His choice of company or the pursuits He engaged in with them. He was known for hanging out with far more notorious people than our friend could ever bring herself to be. Why should she expect His followers to turn their noses up at her when she's being nothing but herself?
That's pretty embarassing, and it's yet another reason for me to be thankful for the delightfully misshapen saints He's surrounded me and Lisa with. I can't play the church game anymore. I want to be like Christ, not like the neutered, Prozac'd mannequin that religion has held up in His place. If that means I drop some cash on a few pints and get my wife and I into cheap nightclubs to have deep conversations with hurting people whose lives aren't neat and tidy (as if ours ever were), then sign me up. I want the church to look more like a bunch of thirtysomething singles rallying around each other on barstools like a family to share each other's burdens, and less like a management seminar with tips and techniques on how to prop up the facade of Godly oblivion to real human need.
Jen, thank you for being seen with us. We love you. And so does God. I hope we can help Him to prove that to you.
