If you're reading this, you probably already know that I commute from San Jose to San Francisco almost every day using Caltrain. My past experience with trains has been limited to traveling for fun. Having a daily train routine is a whole different ball game. I have two hours (or more if I miss the Baby Bullet) to ride the train, and it's given me ample time to think about all the reasons I love it. I thought I'd share them with you all. Since I'm using this post as a mental break from work, I'm only going to post one or two reasons at a time, so stay tuned for further updates.
Reason #1: It gives my day the perfect structure.
If you know me at all, you know that I like being by myself. I like being with people too, but at heart, I'm an introvert who recharges during my alone time. I'm also blessed with fantastic friends and a very busy social life in San Jose. When I first realized that 12 hours of my day would be taken up by commuting and working, I was at a loss as to how I was going to keep up the social pace and still have the time to engage in those solitary activities that keep me sane: praying, reading, listening to music, and mentally processing my life. My train commute gives me an hour in the morning to connect with God, just me and Him and hundreds of other oblivious train passengers. This sets the tone for my day. I put in my eight hours of work and I look forward to another hour of time when I can do whatever I feel like doing on my own. I can read a novel or the news, I can start up a conversation with the passenger next to me, I can pray for that lady who looks like she's having a tough day, I can listen to Southbound Train and feel like my internal world is in sync with the greater world around me, or I can stare out the window and wonder at all of the random little towns on the train line. I get off the train feeling refreshed and ready for some social time (which is perfect, since most of my evenings are booked). Who knew that structuring my time around a train commute would be so perfect for my weird introvert/extrovert personality?
Reason #2: It's More Entertaining Than Television (Sometimes)
Did you know you can drink alcohol on Caltrain? It's true. This (apparently) makes Caltrain optimal for date transportation. Take a wild guess as to how many dates I've inadvertently witnessed up close: the answer is 1. But I'm hoping for more in the future, because, boy, let me tell you, it was entertaining. So much more entertaining than those obviously-scripted dating shows on MTV. This date was real. This date was gritty. This date was a train wreck (no pun intended). Let me tell you about it: enter male and female daters. Pretty sure this was a first date because neither one seemed to know much about the other. I don't know male's name, so we'll call him Joe. I do know female's name because she had to correct Joe when he botched it. Twice. "Laurie, would you like some more wine?" "It's Laura" "So, Lauren, what are you studying?" "Not Lauren, Laura". This guy liked to ask questions, but he wasn't particularly interested in poor Laura's answer. For example, after that second question, "What are you studying?" and Laura's response, "Not Lauren you idiot, Laura", Joe launched into a very long explanation of what he studied in school (political science, the major of many a self-absorbed jerk). Long story short, he ended our train ride by spilling a good amount of red wine on her top. Maybe you should have stuck with white on the train, Joe.
Reason # 3: You Can Drink on the Train
Enough said.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
My Confession
As a non-Catholic, I've always found the practice of confession fascinating. I mean, you're not just confessing to God. You're spilling your most shameful secrets to another person! As a child, I sometimes had a mean-spirited sense of smugness because that Catholic kid had to say "Hail Marys" and "Our Fathers" after they confessed, whereas I could just go on my merry way. I had a lot of questions about the process of confession. What if you say your confession and you're not really sorry? Does the priest's blessing- "Go. Your sins are forgiven"- still absolve you? What if you leave something out? If you never tell the priest, is that sin ever forgiven? Once or twice, when I felt particularly guilty about something I did, I envied the Catholic child's ability to go through the ritual of confession and actually hear a physical voice tell them, "do this, say this or that, and your sins are forgiven". How did I know that I'd "done enough" to be forgiven?
In the last couple of months, God has blessed me with a hunger for prayer. I feel like I'm constantly praying: for myself, for what I want, for others, for the person I want to be. A couple of weeks ago, I was grappling with this question of who I want to be as I grow up in Christ, and I began to compare that future person with my past self. I thought, "even if I don't know the exact parameters of who I want to be, at least I know who I do NOT want to be: me, three years ago". I thought about the mistakes I had made, the pain I had caused myself and others, and I had a realization: I had never truly confessed the sins of my past. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time (even among all this prolific prayer) I had been intentional about asking God's forgiveness for a specific action or sin.
I had taken a lot of steps since I committed my life to Christ last year. I admitted that the Gospel is true, I admitted that Jesus was and is God and that he took on God's wrath for our shortcomings. I dedicated myself to changing my life to fit those truths instead of twisting the truth to fit my life. I often looked back upon my past actions with regret. But the regret I felt was different from repentance. My regretful musings often went like this: "it's too bad that I was so deceived and so stupid and immature when I did this or that. Oh well. There's no use going backward. God will use that dark time in my life for a greater purpose in the future." There was no plea for divine forgiveness. What I experienced was closer to relief that my sin was behind me than true repentance. But here's another truth that I see in the world every day: our sin is never behind us. We struggle and we sin every day. Sin, repentance and forgiveness is not a one time deal; it's an ongoing cycle.
This is where the Catholic ritual of confession comes in. I have several theological issues with Catholicism. However, I've always admired the intentionality of Catholic rituals. These sacraments are based on scripture and have their foundations in Jesus' teachings. What many call confession, the Roman Catholic church calls the Sacrament of Penance or the Sacrament of Reconciliation. As Father Thomas Richstatter says, "the word reconciliation is rich in meaning. It suggests the gift of God's forgiveness and the removal of the barriers we place between ourselves, our community and our God. Reconciliation means the rebridging of the gap between God and us and between ourselves and others. It also suggests the deep peace that comes from being brought back into harmony with God, with sisters and brothers and with the whole of creation." Catholics are exhorted to confess their sins in a ritualistic and repeated manner before they take communion. In this way, the Church insists on intentionality when it comes to repentance.
I read today that fewer and fewer Catholic parishioners are partaking in the ritual of confession. I believe also that there is a dangerous lack of emphasis on confession, repentance and reconciliation within evangelical circles. As children, we're told that all we need to do is accept Jesus into our hearts and we are Christians. We are told that God loves us no matter what we do. We're told that we should always strive to "do God's will for our lives". I heard a song this morning on the radio on my way to church and it went something like this: "He's not mad at you. He's not disappointed. He is full of mercy and He is ever kind". Those song lyrics, while comforting and warm and cozy, are simply not theologically accurate. God IS mad at you when you sin. Psalm 5:5 says "The arrogant cannot stand in your presence; you hate all who do wrong." And how arrogant is it for us to believe that we can continue to sin in the presence of a divine and perfect God and his only response will be to beam down on us with love and kindness? God gives us mercy, but only if we continually seek it. Part of that process is confession and repentance. 1 John 1:9 sets forth a logical statement that we all should recognize for what it really is: a material conditional. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness". God's forgiveness is conditioned upon our confession.
Every day, God reveals more of his truth to me. Lately, he has impressed upon my heart the truth that I am sinful and rebellious by nature. Born to wander. Apart from Him, there is nothing good in me. Which is why I am even more floored by the gift of his grace, even more amazed by his love for me. I've also accepted the truth that my purpose on this earth is to glorify God. Part of that is working every day to live a pure life. When I fail (because I will fail), all I can do is prostrate myself in confession and repentance and pray that God will, once again, show me mercy. His promise to us is that his mercy is unending.
Thank God for that.
In the last couple of months, God has blessed me with a hunger for prayer. I feel like I'm constantly praying: for myself, for what I want, for others, for the person I want to be. A couple of weeks ago, I was grappling with this question of who I want to be as I grow up in Christ, and I began to compare that future person with my past self. I thought, "even if I don't know the exact parameters of who I want to be, at least I know who I do NOT want to be: me, three years ago". I thought about the mistakes I had made, the pain I had caused myself and others, and I had a realization: I had never truly confessed the sins of my past. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time (even among all this prolific prayer) I had been intentional about asking God's forgiveness for a specific action or sin.
I had taken a lot of steps since I committed my life to Christ last year. I admitted that the Gospel is true, I admitted that Jesus was and is God and that he took on God's wrath for our shortcomings. I dedicated myself to changing my life to fit those truths instead of twisting the truth to fit my life. I often looked back upon my past actions with regret. But the regret I felt was different from repentance. My regretful musings often went like this: "it's too bad that I was so deceived and so stupid and immature when I did this or that. Oh well. There's no use going backward. God will use that dark time in my life for a greater purpose in the future." There was no plea for divine forgiveness. What I experienced was closer to relief that my sin was behind me than true repentance. But here's another truth that I see in the world every day: our sin is never behind us. We struggle and we sin every day. Sin, repentance and forgiveness is not a one time deal; it's an ongoing cycle.
This is where the Catholic ritual of confession comes in. I have several theological issues with Catholicism. However, I've always admired the intentionality of Catholic rituals. These sacraments are based on scripture and have their foundations in Jesus' teachings. What many call confession, the Roman Catholic church calls the Sacrament of Penance or the Sacrament of Reconciliation. As Father Thomas Richstatter says, "the word reconciliation is rich in meaning. It suggests the gift of God's forgiveness and the removal of the barriers we place between ourselves, our community and our God. Reconciliation means the rebridging of the gap between God and us and between ourselves and others. It also suggests the deep peace that comes from being brought back into harmony with God, with sisters and brothers and with the whole of creation." Catholics are exhorted to confess their sins in a ritualistic and repeated manner before they take communion. In this way, the Church insists on intentionality when it comes to repentance.
I read today that fewer and fewer Catholic parishioners are partaking in the ritual of confession. I believe also that there is a dangerous lack of emphasis on confession, repentance and reconciliation within evangelical circles. As children, we're told that all we need to do is accept Jesus into our hearts and we are Christians. We are told that God loves us no matter what we do. We're told that we should always strive to "do God's will for our lives". I heard a song this morning on the radio on my way to church and it went something like this: "He's not mad at you. He's not disappointed. He is full of mercy and He is ever kind". Those song lyrics, while comforting and warm and cozy, are simply not theologically accurate. God IS mad at you when you sin. Psalm 5:5 says "The arrogant cannot stand in your presence; you hate all who do wrong." And how arrogant is it for us to believe that we can continue to sin in the presence of a divine and perfect God and his only response will be to beam down on us with love and kindness? God gives us mercy, but only if we continually seek it. Part of that process is confession and repentance. 1 John 1:9 sets forth a logical statement that we all should recognize for what it really is: a material conditional. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness". God's forgiveness is conditioned upon our confession.
Every day, God reveals more of his truth to me. Lately, he has impressed upon my heart the truth that I am sinful and rebellious by nature. Born to wander. Apart from Him, there is nothing good in me. Which is why I am even more floored by the gift of his grace, even more amazed by his love for me. I've also accepted the truth that my purpose on this earth is to glorify God. Part of that is working every day to live a pure life. When I fail (because I will fail), all I can do is prostrate myself in confession and repentance and pray that God will, once again, show me mercy. His promise to us is that his mercy is unending.
Thank God for that.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Because Twitter Said I Couldn't Do It
I came late to the twitter trend. I created a twitter account mostly so that I could stay as virtually connected as possible to all the California friends I left behind when I decided to spend the summer in Seattle. Twitter did not disappoint. The wit! The education! The rabbit hole that is the #tag. It's a beautiful thing.
However, I found myself frustrated by the 140 character limit to my tweets. As a law student, I've been trained (systematically and ruthlessly) to see every argument from both sides, so I understand the up-side to limiting posts to a certain number of characters. And yet I felt 140 characters or less stifled my creative nature. I could never say all that I wanted to say.
Hence, the impetus for this blog. I asked my youngest brother if he would read a blog published by Yours Truly. He told me that (1) he would definitely read my blog; and (2) he had always wanted to write a blog of his very own but had always been limited by the thought that no one would want to read what he had to say. Well Jeff, you can certainly be a guest contributor to this blog. I'd love to hear what you have to say. Even if you and I are the only readers, it might still be worth it to be able to write more than 140 characters when I have a thought I want to share.
So here's my promise to you, dear reader: each of these blog posts will have 141 characters or more. Otherwise, they would all be short and sweet tweets.
However, I found myself frustrated by the 140 character limit to my tweets. As a law student, I've been trained (systematically and ruthlessly) to see every argument from both sides, so I understand the up-side to limiting posts to a certain number of characters. And yet I felt 140 characters or less stifled my creative nature. I could never say all that I wanted to say.
Hence, the impetus for this blog. I asked my youngest brother if he would read a blog published by Yours Truly. He told me that (1) he would definitely read my blog; and (2) he had always wanted to write a blog of his very own but had always been limited by the thought that no one would want to read what he had to say. Well Jeff, you can certainly be a guest contributor to this blog. I'd love to hear what you have to say. Even if you and I are the only readers, it might still be worth it to be able to write more than 140 characters when I have a thought I want to share.
So here's my promise to you, dear reader: each of these blog posts will have 141 characters or more. Otherwise, they would all be short and sweet tweets.
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