Dear Pneuma,

In the movies, the hero often defeats fear by killing it.  Rage takes over and he destroys the vile, putrescent thing utterly.  In the movie Pan's Labyrinth, the heroine resists evil by loving herself and others, and though it kills her, she is transformed, as is the world around her, into something more vital, more alive.

As I read articles online, watch the morning news, and listen to the pundits, fundits and ondits, I pick up fear and rage.  I pick up distrust and posturing.  I pick up hopelessness and defeatism.  People are wearing spikes and spitting daggers at one another.  I hear imagery of rape and destruction being used as a release valve for the frustrations and impotencies people are experiencing.  People shout names and hang slogans on one another-as though the playground rules society.

In their fear of drowning, my neighbors try to out-scream one another for rescue, while never once testing the depth of the water.  Voiceless people, tired of living in shame and defilement, find comfort and solace in the idea that death is the greatest equalizer in world, and as they step wired onto trains and busses, nothing seems to be telling them anything different.

After that movie where the hero/ine minces evil into tiny pieces, there is always a sequel: some part of the monster always survives to wreak havoc on the future.  After that movie where resistance to dehumanization transforms the hero/ine, there is only peace, and the future is an open sky.

Christ in you claims transformation over domination.  Christ in you claims belief in the ground over the depth of waters.  Christ in you knows that liberation from captivity can transform this time.

Christ in us impels a response.  Christ in us says redeem the shamed, love the defiled, comfort those who mourn.   Christ in us says walk out the open door.  Christ in us says tomorrow is the better day.  Christ in us says we are not alone.  Christ in us says we are each others'.  Christ in us says act in trust.  Christ in us says choose relationship with our neighbors over possession of our own fields.  Christ in us says be willing to die thus-knowing that is how we live.

Claiming Christ,
Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

What is it about my nature that I continue to enslave myself to others' expectations?  Be concrete: I go to work and I succeed there, but at the goals others are setting.  I adjust my methods and conform my time in response to co-workers' distresses, client's hopes and the system's habits of operation. 

Today, I stop to ponder my own hopes, distresses and habits, and I cannot seem to name them.  "To have people like and admire me" seems to be a phony and fear-based motivation for action. 

Self-help ideology suggests only the goals I find from myself are valid.  Christianity suggests that only Christ's goals are valid.  I am conflicted between "live and die for others," and "live and die for Christ."  I am conflicted between "reject the ways of the world," and "change the world," between "be the change you want to see," and "deny yourself and follow."

How do you respond to this conflict?

Seeking to Transcend,
Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

I think I am mine.  I live as though I gave life to myself.  I continue to make choices to protect and promote "me," as though I need some sort of manager or advertising executive in charge in order to exist.

Here are some things I want:
As the song says: "To keep my heart wide open. To love and have no fear."
To feel peace and satisfaction.
To live a purposed life connected to other people.
To explore my potential abilities.
To make choices from my character.
To trust myself.

Here are some other things I want:
Status in my social group
To be admired by many
To have a major impact on world events
To be physically strong, resilient and inexhaustible
To be removed from messy emotions, unsuccessful projects and people who cannot think as fast as I
To be self-sufficient

Yet, under and around each of these things is a smallness.  They aren't very imaginative.  They don't include any number of experiences, opportunities, and realities.  They are narrow, individually focussed ideas.  The achievement of none of them will even touch the purpose of life itself.

In the context of Life, there are an eternity of lives.  There is an infinity of life-forms.  All lives become significant in their impact, and each life becomes insignificant in its individual intents and desires.

Something I believe: God doesn't lose sleep about the "me" I create (the clothes I wear, the people with whom I sleep, the promises to which I live up, the debts I leave unpaid).  God is concerned with the "me" I am.  That which is my sum total.  That which I was at the beginning and will be when I am no more.  God knows what that is and intends it for some reason absolutely beyond anything "I" want.  Something else I believe: God is good, and that which God intends for my being is better than anything I can imagine for myself.

That is the only "I" and it is joined by all the other "I's" of existence and the amoeba bears as much guilt and glory as the human being.  Which brings me back to my wants and my desires.  Which brings me back to that place where my desire to "be good" outwits my ability to believe I am exactly as God would have me be.  It brings me back to the place where I feel I am entitled to simplicity and ease just because I followed the appropriate diet, spoke the polished words, crossed all "t's" and tried to be kind.

God is not a set of superstitions and rituals.  God is not the buffer between me and what is.  God is not an escape from the times.  God is not hibernation for broken hearts, shattered dreams, and human chaos.

Instead, God is the language with which I name myself and what is, extended backwards to the beginning of all things, extending forward beyond time.  If I can learn how to sing in that language,  maybe some of those things I want will happen or disappear.

Practicing,
Cobalt Dreams