Saturday, April 14, 2012

the spiral staircase.

One of my students is exceptionally good at identifying patterns. When we're working on patterns together, she gets so excited to tell me what comes next. Circle, square, circle, square, circle ... and Selma will yell "SQUARE!" Flower, butterfly, butterfly, flower, butterfly ... "BUTTERFLY, Claxton!!" Selma does an incredible job of predicting what comes next with patterns, and I can't help but feel like that's not unlike life. 

I think that each of us struggles with a specific set of issues and challenges that become patterns in our own lives. Certainly not every hard thing in life is a pattern. There are some things in life that come unexpectedly, harshly, and completely break us apart. Those are not the type of struggles I am addressing. However, I do believe there are struggles in our lives that are patterns. Maybe you continually struggle with the need to be in control, to plan. Or maybe you're at a constant battle with  needing the approval of others. We spend a large part of life, I think, circling around a central set of challenges. 

The spiral staircase. That's what Father Bob calls it, anyway. You don't know Father Bob? Don't worry, I don't know him personally either. I know of Father Bob through Heather. He was Heather's spiritual advisor last year, and of the many conversations I've had with Heather over the course of our friendship, the conversation about the spiral staircase is one I remember most. 

The spiral staircase is the idea that in all of life, we circle around a set of struggles that are central to our being. As we walk up the staircase, we circle around these challenges. We walk, we struggle, all the while moving upward. As we move up, our posture and reactions to life, pain, and experiences change. We struggle through something, walk awhile, and come around to the same issue again. Only, once we've walked, we're at a different place in our journey up the staircase. We approach the situation differently. If we're moving faithfully through life, the hope is that we walk up, becoming more like Jesus, more like who we were created to be. 



The top of the staircase, I think, is Heaven. We spend our whole lives walking up the staircase, circling around our brokenness. When we arrive at the top of the staircase, we've become like Jesus, complete. 

To be honest, we won't arrive in this life. We won't be complete here. The more I experience of life, the less I believe that I'll ever reach that end where I am complete, content, ready, perfect. I don't think I'll reach a day where I stop facing challenges and struggles. Challenges and struggles and difficulty are a part of life in this world. Maybe I'll never reach the day where the idol of approval and the struggles of inadequacy stop breathing down my neck. I can however walk upward, move forward. But I'll never reach perfection in this life, because perfection doesn't exist in this life. Perfection is a part of God, a part of heaven. All we can do is keep walking. Keep circling. Keep faithfully walking up the stairs. 

It's only when we've walked up the stairs that we can realize how far it is we've truly come. When we have walked up and around, we can look down and see that we've grown, become. We're closer to where we're going, but we're still not there yet. I think the best thing we can do is to identify the patterns in our lives and put on our comfortable shoes.



What are the patterns in your life? What are the central struggles you face? Which way are you moving on the staircase? 

Saturday, April 7, 2012

living the Saturday.

Yesterday was Good Friday; the day Jesus was crucified on a cross. Tomorrow is Easter Sunday; the day He conquered death and rose from the grave.

So, what does that make today? Saturday (clearly, I have learned something from teaching elementary school). Today is Saturday. The day in-between Friday and Sunday. The day in-between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. The day, for most of the world, that will be lived like a normal day. All around, people will be walking through today without thought or question. So often when we think about the story of Jesus' crucifixion and resurrection, we focus on Friday and Sunday, but never Saturday. We rarely discuss the importance of Saturday, and I think that it's just as much as part of the story. Saturday is the middle, the in-between, the waiting, hoping, and knowing what's here but not yet. Saturday is the nitty-gritty; the split second pause between death and life.

See, when we skip over Saturday, we're missing a huge part of the story. Saturday is the yearning and hoping. On Friday night, we remember and recognize and feel the weight of Jesus hanging on a cross for our sins. In the end, He rises. Jesus triumphs over death. There is hope on Friday, but we don't get to see it fulfilled until Sunday morning when the tomb is empty.

Saturday is the middle of the story. On Saturday, we wait. We know full-well that Christ rises on Sunday. We know the end of the story. The end of the story is not sin and death. Death does not win. The end of the story is hope, redemption, joy, and new life.

But Saturday is the middle of the story. On Saturday, He has not yet risen. On Saturday, the work that Jesus did on the cross is done. It is finished. It is here, but not yet. So on Saturday, we hope. On Saturday, we hold onto the hope that we know is coming but we know is not yet here. On Saturday, we hope in the resurrection and the promise of new life, but we live in the waiting.

So much of our lives are spent living the Saturday. I could argue that our lives are one big, continuous Saturday. We live in the middle, the meantime, the waiting. We live in what's here but not yet. I love Easter weekend, because in a season of life that feels endless and tiresome and unknown and uncertain (maybe this is not just a season, but all of life), I can cling to hope. I can hope in Sunday, in the resurrection. I can grasp, in the middle of the story, that there is something great to come. 


That's why Saturday is such an important part of the story. On Saturday of Easter weekend, we are reminded that the story is not over. We are given the opportunity to sit in hope, to marvel at the mystery of what's here and happening and what's yet to come.