Wednesday, November 3, 2010

A spiritual manifesto, of sorts.


I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last two days.  And listening to sermons.  Check this one out.  

So, first of all, thoughts on what we’re studying.  All our classes kinda blend together here, particularly Eastern Orthodoxy and Sustainable and Human Development.  We spend a lot of time talking about how religion affects social change.  In particular, that is, how Christian virtues and theological principles (especially two doctrines really predominant in Orthodoxy, the Trinity and the incarnation) play out and lead to the sort of community involvement and development work that the Fundaţia and other groups are trying to achieve in Romania.  It's interesting, because though the Fundaţia is a faith-based organization, it's really not explicit in its connection to Christianity, or even Orthodoxy--it's more a set of cultural norms and values since Romania is overwhelmingly Orthodox.  I wrestle with that a lot, coming from an evangelical Protestant background... like, how do you pursue "Kingdom values" without ever mentioning the King?  How long can you try to go “undercover” before you compromise in some way?  As Christians, what should our goal be, ultimately--social change? preaching the Gospel?  (I don't necessarily think those are entirely different things, I'm just wondering if you can really preach the Good News if you always leave Jesus out of it.) 

Lots to chew on.

It's crazy to think there's only about a month left here.  Time has been flying.  But a month is still a long time, so I'm not going to get too excited about coming home just yet.  But I think I will be excited to come home.  I find myself still casting around for places to get involved here, for ways to make myself rooted in Lupeni, and still coming up short, constrained by the program (the requirements and the expectations of people) and by the language gap and by the fact that I know I'm transient here.  Thankfully, I feel rooted in some ways, and would even say I have a couple Romanian friends--we just don't really hang out much.  And now that we're in the apartments, not living with host families any more, I have to be really intentional about getting out to spend time with Romanians (speaking of which, I should call my host mom and set up a time to go visit...)  So I am looking forward to going back to the States, where my history there has resulted in already-existing relationships, and where I can get involved in things more easily, etc.  I know it won't be easy.  I can't pretend I'll go back to the sort of idyllic life that I lived during my sophomore year at Calvin.  I'm not in the dorms anymore--that's a change, and it means that community won't just happen naturally all the time.  I'm excited about the freedom and possibilities that will present, but it'll definitely be different.  But I'm different, too.  I've seen a lot in 2010.  It's been a hard year--a good year, an exciting year, a fun year, a challenging year, a learning year, a rewarding year--and I'm recognizing that I'm tired.  It takes a long time for me to recognize that.  But I'm working on spiritual disciplines here, because it's not an environment where I am easily 'fed' with fellowship and accountability and deep friendship--so I keep praying that in this time that's sometimes difficult and sometimes lonely, that God would develop in me the character and virtues of the sort of woman He wants me to become.  A woman who is faithful and studies the Word and pursues God and the knowledge of Him, who may be shaken but is never defeated because her faith is rooted and deep, her house is built on the firm rock.  That's what I keep praying for.

Not that life here is all suffering.  Far from it!  In fact, if you asked me to point a finger at what the causes of suffering are so they could be removed, I don't think I could do it.  I really enjoy life here, actually.  I’ve developed deep affection for Romania, particularly rural Romania.  It warms my heart to walk through Lupeni and smile at people, or to gaze at the mountains, or to listen to the clip-clop of horses’ hooves as they trot down the main street, pulling wagons full of hay.  I think it's just been a really long time since I've been in a place I felt at home (other than the months of February through mid-May, really, I've been in unfamiliar places this year).  And I crave that rootedness.  I want to go to the same church week after week after week, for months.  I want to develop a relationship with a mentor, and meet with her for a long time, growing together.  But like Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes in "Life Together" (which I've been reading lately), not all Christians get to live in that sort of gentle, blessed fellowship.  We may want to, and there will probably (hopefully) be seasons of it.  But Christians are called to follow after only one Leader, no matter where He may take us.  And there is great joy and life there.  I am convinced of that.

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