The following is a reply to a thread begun on Facebook, regarding an article entitled, "The Coming Evangelical Collapse."
"...wholeheartedly bound to the culture and relativism."
I strongly disagree with this description. Emergent doesn't bind itself to culture- it recognizes the diversity and fluidity of culture and recognizes that a genuine expression of the kingdom of God in the world has always been, and will always be, filtered through the lens of one's culture. This has been the case all the way back to Jesus himself. Any honest study of the gospel accounts will yield a recognition of this fact. Jesus' entire ministry was inundated with parable and metaphor- borrowing images and ideas that were prominently first century Jewish- in order to explain realities that transcend the culture. The entire history of the church is the same story- the story of God's people expressing the kingdom of God in ways that make sense in the context of their time and place in history. Presently, the church is as multifaceted and diverse as the world itself. Even within the more narrow category of Evangelical, a church in urban America does not (and should not) look the same as a church in a remote hill tribe of Northern India. The way they frame the story of Jesus and its continuation through them will be categorically different. Its not a choice to deviate from a standard. it’s a reality of the world that we must contend with.
This brings us to the point of relativism. Emergent does not bind itself to relativism. We consider ourselves the people of God, just as Evangelicals. We consider our story to be built upon the Scriptures, just as Evangelicals. We recognize the centrality of Jesus to our story and our lives and seek to carry his legacy to the world, just as Evangelicals. We recognize the value of our history and employ ancient prayers, creeds and hymns into our worship, just as Evangelicals. We practice the Lord’s Supper as a remembrance of the body and blood of Jesus, just as Evangelicals.
There is, of course, a great degree of diversity among those who consider themselves Emergent, and many view the lack of coherency as a negative. What I’ve described above is a summary of what I have discovered to be the core of Emergent as I have personally experienced. Many people point fingers at specific churches or specific men/women within Emergent with whom they find “serious” fault, and then they assume that anyone associated with Emergent must be as “off base” as that individual or church. But the real beauty of Emergent is, in fact, its diversity. The fact that we are not bound to any individual, any church, any council, any statement of doctrine. Perhaps this could be viewed as theological relativism, but I prefer to see it as a unique opportunity for each of us, individually and collectively, to form our own theological identity without being told what we can or cannot believe in order to be “in the club.” The result, as I’ve observed, is a community of some of the most spiritually healthy people I’ve ever known or interacted with.
You say, “The world and we sometimes fail to recognize that evangelicalism was not simply a movement or a transitory form of the church it was the church.” Really? I have to ask in return, What is this Evangelicalism are you referring to? Acts 2? 3rd or 4th century? The desert fathers of the Dark Ages? The Inquisitors or Crusaders? Reformation? Mennonite? Baptist? Anabaptist? Reformed Baptist? Methodist? Presbyterian? Lutheran? Pentecostal? On and on and on…
You say, “The church is never meant to emulate or conform the greater culture but rather to transform the culture to the message of Jesus.” Again, Jesus himself borrowed incessantly from first century Jewish culture in order to speak back into that culture in a way that made sense to them, in order to formulate a relevant vision of the kingdom of God breaking into the world. We continue that legacy, communicating the good news of God’s kingdom to people, not as annals from the dusty books of history, but as a living, breathing, ongoing story of hope and redemption to a world in desperate need.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Monday, December 8, 2008
The Unlit Candles of Advent
This is naturally a difficult time of year for me. The onset of winter. Shorter days, longer nights. The season of Advent- waiting for the promise of God to be birthed into the world, into my life. It's easy to feel the darkness and cold setting into my soul. Easy to feel that the light of the world is but a dim flicker in an all too distant future.
This is the first year I’ve been part of a Christian community who actually observes Advent in any way. The season of Advent is meant to draw us toward hope, anticipation and promise. For four weeks we center ourselves around the promises of God. Promises of the birth of our Savior. The light of the world. The true light that gives light to every man (John 1:9, NIV).
Four candles represent the four weeks of Advent. Each week we light a new candle, representing the onset of the dawn of a new era in the history of God and his people. As the illumination intensifies, so should our awareness of the deliverance that is to come through the promised child of God.
This week at Journey the second of the four candles was lit. As I reflect upon the image of the candles, I can’t help but remember the two that remained unlit. I don’t take much pride in being the “glass half empty” guy, but I do feel that some of the most important lessons I’ve learned in life have come at times when I’ve examined the other side of the equation, when I’ve allowed paradox to play its role in my life and considered that the God of spring and summer is also the God of fall and winter, that the God who rules over life is also the God who rules over death.
In reflecting upon the antagonistic darkness of the Advent season, I’ve come to realize that for my entire life I’ve been celebrating Christmas wrongly. Traditionally, Christmas has represented nothing more to me than an anniversary of the birth of Christ. As such, it has signified a single event in the history of mankind. It has pointed me back in time, roughly two thousand years, to the village of Bethlehem, the manger, the single day in history when Jesus was born. Yet with a new focus on Advent as a season, rather than Christmas as a day, I am learning to view the promise of the birth of Jesus in a fresh way.
The celebration of Christmas as a single day of the year representing a single day in our past history suggests to me that the story of the light of God coming into the world is over. The chapter is written. The plot has built, the climax has occurred and we are left to simply revel in the resolution. Yet, hardly a day goes by when I don’t feel enormously void of resolution. Say what we may about the birth of a Savior, the darkness of the world remains at odds with the light. Evil remains. Despair still haunts me. Spring and summer inevitably run their course. Colors fade. Leaves drop to the ground. Fall and winter cannot be held back. Apart from one day prior to the celebration of the birth of hope, one or more candles always remain cold, unlit.
The wisdom of God’s people in all ages reminds us that life is marked by constant intervals of light and darkness, hope and despair, life and death. Next spring we will celebrate the death of the one whose birth we now anticipate, followed quickly by the celebration of his resurrection. Time will forge ahead, and before any of us are ready the Advent candles will be set before us once again. Darkness will prevail. Slowly, one by one, the flames of promise will illumine us as we await the fullness of the light. Once again the glow of one, then two and three, will cast shadows about us. And finally, as with every year, the day will arrive. The birth of Jesus will be remembered. The light of the world will drive away the darkness once again.
This year’s celebration of Advent is teaching me that the story of God’s people isn’t linear, that Christmas is more than simply a commemoration of static historical fact, that the narrative of God casting light over darkness is spoken over His people time and time again. The nativity of Jesus is with us continuously.
Wherever there is evil, let us overcome with good. Wherever there is despair, let us offer hope. Wherever there is pain, let us bring comfort. Where violence, peace. Where wrongdoing, justice. Where hate, love. In so doing, we will accomplish the reward of Advent, the light of the world dissipating the darkness that threatens to engulf us, our attention no longer diverted by unlit candles.
This is the first year I’ve been part of a Christian community who actually observes Advent in any way. The season of Advent is meant to draw us toward hope, anticipation and promise. For four weeks we center ourselves around the promises of God. Promises of the birth of our Savior. The light of the world. The true light that gives light to every man (John 1:9, NIV).
Four candles represent the four weeks of Advent. Each week we light a new candle, representing the onset of the dawn of a new era in the history of God and his people. As the illumination intensifies, so should our awareness of the deliverance that is to come through the promised child of God.
This week at Journey the second of the four candles was lit. As I reflect upon the image of the candles, I can’t help but remember the two that remained unlit. I don’t take much pride in being the “glass half empty” guy, but I do feel that some of the most important lessons I’ve learned in life have come at times when I’ve examined the other side of the equation, when I’ve allowed paradox to play its role in my life and considered that the God of spring and summer is also the God of fall and winter, that the God who rules over life is also the God who rules over death.
In reflecting upon the antagonistic darkness of the Advent season, I’ve come to realize that for my entire life I’ve been celebrating Christmas wrongly. Traditionally, Christmas has represented nothing more to me than an anniversary of the birth of Christ. As such, it has signified a single event in the history of mankind. It has pointed me back in time, roughly two thousand years, to the village of Bethlehem, the manger, the single day in history when Jesus was born. Yet with a new focus on Advent as a season, rather than Christmas as a day, I am learning to view the promise of the birth of Jesus in a fresh way.
The celebration of Christmas as a single day of the year representing a single day in our past history suggests to me that the story of the light of God coming into the world is over. The chapter is written. The plot has built, the climax has occurred and we are left to simply revel in the resolution. Yet, hardly a day goes by when I don’t feel enormously void of resolution. Say what we may about the birth of a Savior, the darkness of the world remains at odds with the light. Evil remains. Despair still haunts me. Spring and summer inevitably run their course. Colors fade. Leaves drop to the ground. Fall and winter cannot be held back. Apart from one day prior to the celebration of the birth of hope, one or more candles always remain cold, unlit.
The wisdom of God’s people in all ages reminds us that life is marked by constant intervals of light and darkness, hope and despair, life and death. Next spring we will celebrate the death of the one whose birth we now anticipate, followed quickly by the celebration of his resurrection. Time will forge ahead, and before any of us are ready the Advent candles will be set before us once again. Darkness will prevail. Slowly, one by one, the flames of promise will illumine us as we await the fullness of the light. Once again the glow of one, then two and three, will cast shadows about us. And finally, as with every year, the day will arrive. The birth of Jesus will be remembered. The light of the world will drive away the darkness once again.
This year’s celebration of Advent is teaching me that the story of God’s people isn’t linear, that Christmas is more than simply a commemoration of static historical fact, that the narrative of God casting light over darkness is spoken over His people time and time again. The nativity of Jesus is with us continuously.
Wherever there is evil, let us overcome with good. Wherever there is despair, let us offer hope. Wherever there is pain, let us bring comfort. Where violence, peace. Where wrongdoing, justice. Where hate, love. In so doing, we will accomplish the reward of Advent, the light of the world dissipating the darkness that threatens to engulf us, our attention no longer diverted by unlit candles.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
The Day After...
Dear President Elect Barak Obama,
Yesterday morning I voted for John McCain. In regards to the election, I find myself now on the "losing" side. But today the election is over, and it's time to move ahead with grace, humility and dignity.
My sincerest congratulations to you, Mr. Obama. You've accomplished a monumental feat in American history, and you've done so in the most honorable way imaginable. America spoke her mind yesterday with resounding support, and I can't help but feel a sense of victory along with you. However our votes were cast yesterday, we can all wake up today feeling proud of you, proud of what you've achieved, proud of our country, proud of our freedom, proud of our fellow citizens who you, rightly, attributed this victory to.
I am a perfect case study in political tension. Traditionally conservative, I have felt the sting of disappointment in the Republican party over the last eight years. I, like many Republicans, hope that the next few years will see a reconstruction of our party and the emergence of new leadership to restore dignity to conservative ideals. Yet, as disillusioned as I've become by the waywardness of my party, I found myself unable to cross the line in order to vote for you. I want so badly to believe the best for my party, despite their recent failures.
In a similar way, Mr. Obama, I want to believe the best for you and for the Democratic party. And, in a similar way, I find it difficult. I, like the majority of our citizens, desire change. I hope the best for us all. Yet, I fear that a Democratically controlled White House and Congress will move our country in directions that I am not entirely comfortable with. I fear that the federal government will overstep legislative boundaries and that state and local governments will not be given the legislative autonomy that is their Constitutional right. These fears resulted in a "default" vote from me, a vote for the Republican candidate.
Mr. Obama, you have gracefully endured a barrage of offensive accusations over the course of your campaign. You've been called names that need not be repeated here, that I wish would never be repeated anywhere. Yet, reality is, I woke up this morning to hear many of the same old refrains coming from a segment of religiously conservative Americans who I've spent a great deal of effort to ideologically separate myself from in the past few years. Though religious conservatism will always be a significant part of my individual identity, I want to make it clear to you, Mr. Obama, that those who engage in fear mongering or name calling, those who have chosen to exaggerate their rhetorical quips of despair, do not speak on my behalf.
Last night you spoke directly to those of us who chose not to vote for you. You reminded us that you will be our President, and I offer you the reminder that we will be citizens of the country that you lead. We will not always agree. I will continue to exercise my freedom of expression. I will continue to engage democracy, to play my part in shaping the future of our country with you.
With that, I offer you the fullness of respect that you deserve- not simply as the holder of the highest office in our country, but as my fellow man endowed by God with life and dignity, with freedom and responsibility, with hopes and dreams, and with all of the faculties of conscience and reason which will guide our decision making in the months and years ahead.
Sincerely,
Matt Hartley
Yesterday morning I voted for John McCain. In regards to the election, I find myself now on the "losing" side. But today the election is over, and it's time to move ahead with grace, humility and dignity.
My sincerest congratulations to you, Mr. Obama. You've accomplished a monumental feat in American history, and you've done so in the most honorable way imaginable. America spoke her mind yesterday with resounding support, and I can't help but feel a sense of victory along with you. However our votes were cast yesterday, we can all wake up today feeling proud of you, proud of what you've achieved, proud of our country, proud of our freedom, proud of our fellow citizens who you, rightly, attributed this victory to.
I am a perfect case study in political tension. Traditionally conservative, I have felt the sting of disappointment in the Republican party over the last eight years. I, like many Republicans, hope that the next few years will see a reconstruction of our party and the emergence of new leadership to restore dignity to conservative ideals. Yet, as disillusioned as I've become by the waywardness of my party, I found myself unable to cross the line in order to vote for you. I want so badly to believe the best for my party, despite their recent failures.
In a similar way, Mr. Obama, I want to believe the best for you and for the Democratic party. And, in a similar way, I find it difficult. I, like the majority of our citizens, desire change. I hope the best for us all. Yet, I fear that a Democratically controlled White House and Congress will move our country in directions that I am not entirely comfortable with. I fear that the federal government will overstep legislative boundaries and that state and local governments will not be given the legislative autonomy that is their Constitutional right. These fears resulted in a "default" vote from me, a vote for the Republican candidate.
Mr. Obama, you have gracefully endured a barrage of offensive accusations over the course of your campaign. You've been called names that need not be repeated here, that I wish would never be repeated anywhere. Yet, reality is, I woke up this morning to hear many of the same old refrains coming from a segment of religiously conservative Americans who I've spent a great deal of effort to ideologically separate myself from in the past few years. Though religious conservatism will always be a significant part of my individual identity, I want to make it clear to you, Mr. Obama, that those who engage in fear mongering or name calling, those who have chosen to exaggerate their rhetorical quips of despair, do not speak on my behalf.
Last night you spoke directly to those of us who chose not to vote for you. You reminded us that you will be our President, and I offer you the reminder that we will be citizens of the country that you lead. We will not always agree. I will continue to exercise my freedom of expression. I will continue to engage democracy, to play my part in shaping the future of our country with you.
With that, I offer you the fullness of respect that you deserve- not simply as the holder of the highest office in our country, but as my fellow man endowed by God with life and dignity, with freedom and responsibility, with hopes and dreams, and with all of the faculties of conscience and reason which will guide our decision making in the months and years ahead.
Sincerely,
Matt Hartley
Friday, October 31, 2008
America, you will be disappointed
Just 8 days ago, I posted a blog titled, "If they're popular, they're probably not sound." Joe Biden's address at a fundraiser was the centerpiece of the article.
The point of what I wrote there was that many Americans have seemingly been duped into believing that Barak Obama, if elected President, will actually be able to deliver on most or all of his campaign promises. I don't believe he will be able, mostly because so many of his promises have been veiled in such carefully crafted language that is intended to mislead the average voter, promises that are so well polished rhetorically that the average voter has a highly exaggerated vision of who Obama is and what he will accomplish as President.
This isn't a huge surprise. It's not a conspiracy theory that I'm proposing. I don't believe Obama is hiding his secret religious identity or his ties to terrorists from Americans. I just believe that he, like most politicians, has pulled the wool over our eyes regarding how effective he can be in carrying out his policy promises.
My suspicions are continuing to be confirmed by Senator Obama himself...
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/us_and_americas/us_elections/article5051118.ece
The point of what I wrote there was that many Americans have seemingly been duped into believing that Barak Obama, if elected President, will actually be able to deliver on most or all of his campaign promises. I don't believe he will be able, mostly because so many of his promises have been veiled in such carefully crafted language that is intended to mislead the average voter, promises that are so well polished rhetorically that the average voter has a highly exaggerated vision of who Obama is and what he will accomplish as President.
This isn't a huge surprise. It's not a conspiracy theory that I'm proposing. I don't believe Obama is hiding his secret religious identity or his ties to terrorists from Americans. I just believe that he, like most politicians, has pulled the wool over our eyes regarding how effective he can be in carrying out his policy promises.
My suspicions are continuing to be confirmed by Senator Obama himself...
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/us_and_americas/us_elections/article5051118.ece
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Evangelicals not alone as "single issue" voters...
i read a blog recommended to me recently in which the author lamented the Christian community's tendency to vote based on "single issues" such as abortion or homosexual unions...here are my thoughts after reading the blog:
it seems that the author is selling many Evangelicals short by beckoning back to the assumption that Evangelicals alone are "one issue" voters...i am voting for John McCain next Tuesday; and, i admit, my vote is more a vote AGAINST Barak Obama than it is a vote FOR John McCain...but my opposition to Obama has little to nothing to do with his stance on abortion or homosexual union
and, for the record, Obama has created an entire campaign strategy out of "single issues," as is the case with most political campaigns including McCain's...early in his campaign, all we seemed to hear from Obama was "I will bring the troops home!" this was a single issue that many Americans were passionate about, and it contributed, no doubt, to his early popularity.
now it's the economy- specifically, tax benefits for the middle class, a promise that resonates with many as a singularly important issue in the campaign.
or perhaps we can bring up the constant refrain of Obama equating McCain with President Bush, playing on the fears of the American people that the next four years could be as bad as the last eight...yet another single issue that tugs at the heart strings of many people...
the fact is the majority of American voters, Republican and Democrat, are "single issue" voters in the sense that there are one or two of the candidate's priorities that voters deem most important to them...and their ballot is ultimately cast based upon the narrow assumption they hold that their issue of choice will be dealt with sufficiently by the candidate they choose...candidates know this to be the case and form their entire campaign strategies around this fact...go back and listen again to the debates this election year and be reminded of how many times both candidates avoided the questions being asked in order to give the same stump speech over and over again, covering the single issues that they believe are going to convince Americans to take their side in this election...
honestly, i'm getting a little tired of hearing the refrain of "single issue voters" applied only to Evangelicals, as if they are the only segment of our population unaware of the myriad of other campaign issues and casting their votes accordingly...reality is, the majority of voters heading to the booths this year could probably not elaborate the reasons for their choice beyond one or two single issues that they have decided are important...
it seems that the author is selling many Evangelicals short by beckoning back to the assumption that Evangelicals alone are "one issue" voters...i am voting for John McCain next Tuesday; and, i admit, my vote is more a vote AGAINST Barak Obama than it is a vote FOR John McCain...but my opposition to Obama has little to nothing to do with his stance on abortion or homosexual union
and, for the record, Obama has created an entire campaign strategy out of "single issues," as is the case with most political campaigns including McCain's...early in his campaign, all we seemed to hear from Obama was "I will bring the troops home!" this was a single issue that many Americans were passionate about, and it contributed, no doubt, to his early popularity.
now it's the economy- specifically, tax benefits for the middle class, a promise that resonates with many as a singularly important issue in the campaign.
or perhaps we can bring up the constant refrain of Obama equating McCain with President Bush, playing on the fears of the American people that the next four years could be as bad as the last eight...yet another single issue that tugs at the heart strings of many people...
the fact is the majority of American voters, Republican and Democrat, are "single issue" voters in the sense that there are one or two of the candidate's priorities that voters deem most important to them...and their ballot is ultimately cast based upon the narrow assumption they hold that their issue of choice will be dealt with sufficiently by the candidate they choose...candidates know this to be the case and form their entire campaign strategies around this fact...go back and listen again to the debates this election year and be reminded of how many times both candidates avoided the questions being asked in order to give the same stump speech over and over again, covering the single issues that they believe are going to convince Americans to take their side in this election...
honestly, i'm getting a little tired of hearing the refrain of "single issue voters" applied only to Evangelicals, as if they are the only segment of our population unaware of the myriad of other campaign issues and casting their votes accordingly...reality is, the majority of voters heading to the booths this year could probably not elaborate the reasons for their choice beyond one or two single issues that they have decided are important...
Don't Forget!
Without specifically endorsing one of this year's candidates over the other, I'd like to remind everyone...
DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
This is what i do at Starbucks...
I love to sit at Starbucks, pretending to read a book when I’m actually observing the people around me (sunglasses work nicely for this), or eavesdropping on people’s conversations (headphones make a great decoy).
Today, I’m listening in on a roommate interview that I can’t actually hear very well and an exchange of a used Northface sleeping bag for $100 cash. A cute girl comes in and buys an iced tea, goes back to her car and puts the tea inside only to re-enter Starbucks. I think for sure she has spotted me, is intrigued by what I am reading and wants to introduce herself. Instead, she goes to the bathroom. I guess she got cold feet.
Then, there’s the couple sitting in the corner of the establishment, the girl sitting on the lap of the guy, swaying back and forth as they both stare silently at a computer screen. I can’t get behind them to see what’s on the screen. My curiosity burns inside me. Eventually, the girl finds her own chair and sits directly in front of the window, facing out, which is particularly awkward for me since I’ve moved outside and am sitting directly in front of her on the other side of the window. Occasionally, I turn and glance at her, and it feels as if I’m at the zoo.
A well polished, black Mercedes pulls in and a middle aged woman wearing oversized sunglasses and a brown sweater emerges. As she walks inside she is untucking the t-shirt under her sweater, and in so doing she pulls up her shirt high enough to reveal her stomach. It’s actually the third stomach I’ve seen today under similar circumstances. The first two were while I was eating a burrito at lunch.
An ambulance drives by, sirens wailing, as the woman whose stomach I saw returns to her car, gets inside with her drink, re-emerges with an empty coffee cup from her cup holder, throws it in the trashcan. Addict, I think. Doesn’t she have anything better to spend her money on? I take another sip of my $4 latte and continue reading.
I always try to imagine where the ambulance might be going. Someone, somewhere is having an emergency, and it seems a bit strange to me that so many people make a really good living off of other people’s emergencies. I’m thankful that I’m not having an emergency, though if I were I would be comforted knowing that my emergency was helping someone put dinner on the table, send his kids to college, save for retirement.
There’s a guy in a red car at the intersection rubbing his hands together as if he’s cold, but I know he’s not cold. It’s a warm afternoon, and he’s in a car where a lot of heat gets trapped. I wonder why he’s not at work, and then he yawns. He must be lazy, I think.
Another lady is walking in now, shuffling across the parking lot like she’s in a hurry, like she has some emergency of her own to tend to when she gets inside. I wonder if she drives an ambulance for a living and doesn’t know how to separate work from the rest of her life. Either that or she’s one of those egotistical and pretentious types who assumes that she has to move quickly through life because she has so much going on. She makes it inside and heads straight to the bathroom, and I feel badly for judging her.
My coffee is gone, and I begin my ritualistic post-coffee buyer’s remorse. Was it really worth $4? Could I have made this at home for half as much? Am I one of them? Then I remember that the coffee wasn’t the point, really. I just needed to get out of the apartment for a while, and that was worth $4. Besides, I obviously have gotten a lot done. I feel better.
The guy working the drive-thru comes outside now, right ahead of the lady who went to the bathroom (the fast one, not the one with cold feet). The drive-thru guy is picking up the wind-scattered newspaper left by the roommate interviewer. The sun is a little warm for me now, and the drive-thru guy is still attached to his headset as a black Mazda pulls into the drive-thru. He welcomes the driver with an annoyingly happy greeting through his headset, and I’m amazed at his ability to multi-task, picking up trash and delivering spot on customer service at the same time. The drive-thru guy is about 20 feet in front of me and the drive-thru is about 10 feet behind me, and I wonder why the drive-thru guy doesn’t just walk up to the car and give the headset a rest. I wonder if the person in the car can hear the drive-thru guy in stereo, both through the speaker directly beside her and through the air behind her. If so, she might look back and see him picking up trash and be just as impressed as I am.
Another lady enters for her coffee, and as she does the alarm on her car sets, the horn honks quickly to indicate “alarm on,” and I nearly jump out of my chair. It’s not like its quiet at this busy intersection, but the horn still jolts me a bit. The ambulance is back from the emergency, heading back to the fire station but still blasting sirens as if to remind people that he just came from a serious emergency. I wonder if I should flag him down and tell him about the lady who ran to the bathroom.
The lady with the alarm comes back out. When she de-activates her alarm the signal lights blink a few times, quietly. No horn. Why is it necessary for the “alarm on” signal to be so loud while the “alarm off” signal is so quiet? She gets into her car, re-emerges, like the sweater lady (but not like the cute girl) to throw away an old coffee cup. Yet another addict. Really, what’s wrong with us?
I secretly wish I had another cup of coffee.
A poodle- with orange, Halloween bows tied in its hair. This is too easy, I think. A lady in a Buick with a decorated poodle. She’s also wearing oversized sunglasses, and I wonder why its so important for ladies to protect their eyes as well as their temples from the sun. She’s feeding the poodle chocolate, of course, and I wonder if she’s lonely…and I know she is.
Because we all are…
The guy who needs a roommate. The guy buying the sleeping bag. The cute girl. The guy rubbing his hands together. The guy who makes his living tending to our emergencies. The lady with the stomach. The girl on the other side of the window. The lady who had to go to the bathroom. The guy sitting to the side, observing it all, praying to God that someone will be interested enough in his pathetic Starbucks stories to read it all.
We’re all lonely, to varying degrees anyway. Not alone necessarily, but lonely. Not all the time, but more often than we’d like to admit publicly. And that’s not a bad thing, just how it is, and it tends to feel so difficult for us. When we don’t know how to react to it, when we try to compensate for it with over-priced coffee, stylish sunglasses, extravagant poodles, clever stories. When we try to distract ourselves from it by imagining that the cute girl is here for me or that the average girl in the window is an attraction at the zoo or that the guy rubbing his hands is too lazy to work and somehow inferior to me. We long for connection with someone…anyone. We work hard to position ourselves advantageously in relation to others, to be noticed, to be liked, to be significant.
I’m walking back to my apartment from Starbucks. As I approach the entrance to the complex I click the remote clicker and the gates open ahead of me. I like to walk into my apartment parking lot like this. I like the feeling I get when the gates open and I walk through instead of drive through. It’s like I’m royalty, a king, entering into his palace, without a remote clicker, and the gates open because someone knows that I’m the king and that I’m coming and that I shouldn’t have to open the gates for myself.
As I get closer to my apartment I notice a “St. Edwards Alum” sticker on a car. I wonder if it’s St. Edwards University in Austin and get excited. I’ve been thinking about applying to grad school at St. Edwards in Austin, so I imagine meeting the girl (because, of course, it’s a girl) who owns the car and asking her if she graduated from St. Edwards and when she say’s “yes” I say “oh my god, can I trade lives with you?” and she laughs and she tells me that she has her masters in liberal arts from St. Edwards, and I act shocked as I tell her that’s exactly the degree I want, and we have a good first conversation, and two years later we go out for drinks and talk about our masters degrees in liberal arts from St. Edwards and how enlightened and lucky we are to have such a degree and how everyone else who has a degree in, say, business or math, or a job in finance or real estate, is so one dimensional and must be terribly bored and unsatisfied. When our waitress comes by and asks if we want another drink and we ask “is it still happy hour?” and she says “no” we politely decline because neither of us has a job and we’ve both already spent more money than we should have…
But, we don’t regret it…we were both lonely and we enjoyed one another’s company.
Today, I’m listening in on a roommate interview that I can’t actually hear very well and an exchange of a used Northface sleeping bag for $100 cash. A cute girl comes in and buys an iced tea, goes back to her car and puts the tea inside only to re-enter Starbucks. I think for sure she has spotted me, is intrigued by what I am reading and wants to introduce herself. Instead, she goes to the bathroom. I guess she got cold feet.
Then, there’s the couple sitting in the corner of the establishment, the girl sitting on the lap of the guy, swaying back and forth as they both stare silently at a computer screen. I can’t get behind them to see what’s on the screen. My curiosity burns inside me. Eventually, the girl finds her own chair and sits directly in front of the window, facing out, which is particularly awkward for me since I’ve moved outside and am sitting directly in front of her on the other side of the window. Occasionally, I turn and glance at her, and it feels as if I’m at the zoo.
A well polished, black Mercedes pulls in and a middle aged woman wearing oversized sunglasses and a brown sweater emerges. As she walks inside she is untucking the t-shirt under her sweater, and in so doing she pulls up her shirt high enough to reveal her stomach. It’s actually the third stomach I’ve seen today under similar circumstances. The first two were while I was eating a burrito at lunch.
An ambulance drives by, sirens wailing, as the woman whose stomach I saw returns to her car, gets inside with her drink, re-emerges with an empty coffee cup from her cup holder, throws it in the trashcan. Addict, I think. Doesn’t she have anything better to spend her money on? I take another sip of my $4 latte and continue reading.
I always try to imagine where the ambulance might be going. Someone, somewhere is having an emergency, and it seems a bit strange to me that so many people make a really good living off of other people’s emergencies. I’m thankful that I’m not having an emergency, though if I were I would be comforted knowing that my emergency was helping someone put dinner on the table, send his kids to college, save for retirement.
There’s a guy in a red car at the intersection rubbing his hands together as if he’s cold, but I know he’s not cold. It’s a warm afternoon, and he’s in a car where a lot of heat gets trapped. I wonder why he’s not at work, and then he yawns. He must be lazy, I think.
Another lady is walking in now, shuffling across the parking lot like she’s in a hurry, like she has some emergency of her own to tend to when she gets inside. I wonder if she drives an ambulance for a living and doesn’t know how to separate work from the rest of her life. Either that or she’s one of those egotistical and pretentious types who assumes that she has to move quickly through life because she has so much going on. She makes it inside and heads straight to the bathroom, and I feel badly for judging her.
My coffee is gone, and I begin my ritualistic post-coffee buyer’s remorse. Was it really worth $4? Could I have made this at home for half as much? Am I one of them? Then I remember that the coffee wasn’t the point, really. I just needed to get out of the apartment for a while, and that was worth $4. Besides, I obviously have gotten a lot done. I feel better.
The guy working the drive-thru comes outside now, right ahead of the lady who went to the bathroom (the fast one, not the one with cold feet). The drive-thru guy is picking up the wind-scattered newspaper left by the roommate interviewer. The sun is a little warm for me now, and the drive-thru guy is still attached to his headset as a black Mazda pulls into the drive-thru. He welcomes the driver with an annoyingly happy greeting through his headset, and I’m amazed at his ability to multi-task, picking up trash and delivering spot on customer service at the same time. The drive-thru guy is about 20 feet in front of me and the drive-thru is about 10 feet behind me, and I wonder why the drive-thru guy doesn’t just walk up to the car and give the headset a rest. I wonder if the person in the car can hear the drive-thru guy in stereo, both through the speaker directly beside her and through the air behind her. If so, she might look back and see him picking up trash and be just as impressed as I am.
Another lady enters for her coffee, and as she does the alarm on her car sets, the horn honks quickly to indicate “alarm on,” and I nearly jump out of my chair. It’s not like its quiet at this busy intersection, but the horn still jolts me a bit. The ambulance is back from the emergency, heading back to the fire station but still blasting sirens as if to remind people that he just came from a serious emergency. I wonder if I should flag him down and tell him about the lady who ran to the bathroom.
The lady with the alarm comes back out. When she de-activates her alarm the signal lights blink a few times, quietly. No horn. Why is it necessary for the “alarm on” signal to be so loud while the “alarm off” signal is so quiet? She gets into her car, re-emerges, like the sweater lady (but not like the cute girl) to throw away an old coffee cup. Yet another addict. Really, what’s wrong with us?
I secretly wish I had another cup of coffee.
A poodle- with orange, Halloween bows tied in its hair. This is too easy, I think. A lady in a Buick with a decorated poodle. She’s also wearing oversized sunglasses, and I wonder why its so important for ladies to protect their eyes as well as their temples from the sun. She’s feeding the poodle chocolate, of course, and I wonder if she’s lonely…and I know she is.
Because we all are…
The guy who needs a roommate. The guy buying the sleeping bag. The cute girl. The guy rubbing his hands together. The guy who makes his living tending to our emergencies. The lady with the stomach. The girl on the other side of the window. The lady who had to go to the bathroom. The guy sitting to the side, observing it all, praying to God that someone will be interested enough in his pathetic Starbucks stories to read it all.
We’re all lonely, to varying degrees anyway. Not alone necessarily, but lonely. Not all the time, but more often than we’d like to admit publicly. And that’s not a bad thing, just how it is, and it tends to feel so difficult for us. When we don’t know how to react to it, when we try to compensate for it with over-priced coffee, stylish sunglasses, extravagant poodles, clever stories. When we try to distract ourselves from it by imagining that the cute girl is here for me or that the average girl in the window is an attraction at the zoo or that the guy rubbing his hands is too lazy to work and somehow inferior to me. We long for connection with someone…anyone. We work hard to position ourselves advantageously in relation to others, to be noticed, to be liked, to be significant.
I’m walking back to my apartment from Starbucks. As I approach the entrance to the complex I click the remote clicker and the gates open ahead of me. I like to walk into my apartment parking lot like this. I like the feeling I get when the gates open and I walk through instead of drive through. It’s like I’m royalty, a king, entering into his palace, without a remote clicker, and the gates open because someone knows that I’m the king and that I’m coming and that I shouldn’t have to open the gates for myself.
As I get closer to my apartment I notice a “St. Edwards Alum” sticker on a car. I wonder if it’s St. Edwards University in Austin and get excited. I’ve been thinking about applying to grad school at St. Edwards in Austin, so I imagine meeting the girl (because, of course, it’s a girl) who owns the car and asking her if she graduated from St. Edwards and when she say’s “yes” I say “oh my god, can I trade lives with you?” and she laughs and she tells me that she has her masters in liberal arts from St. Edwards, and I act shocked as I tell her that’s exactly the degree I want, and we have a good first conversation, and two years later we go out for drinks and talk about our masters degrees in liberal arts from St. Edwards and how enlightened and lucky we are to have such a degree and how everyone else who has a degree in, say, business or math, or a job in finance or real estate, is so one dimensional and must be terribly bored and unsatisfied. When our waitress comes by and asks if we want another drink and we ask “is it still happy hour?” and she says “no” we politely decline because neither of us has a job and we’ve both already spent more money than we should have…
But, we don’t regret it…we were both lonely and we enjoyed one another’s company.
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