The charm in tragedy, God and flesh, injustice

Sometimes I run up against a really bad, dark mood that I don't much want to get myself out of, and I always wonder what kind of masochistic streak in me keeps me here. At times it is fairly abstract - I don't quite know what makes me so depressed - and at other times it's a concrete sadness, for something relevant and real. I think, though, that there are a number of reasons I (I'll speak for myself - please let me know if you can relate) find these dark moods so appealing.
-First, I feel I deserve it: humanity sucks. I am bad. And even if I haven't done anything very bad recently, take a look at the world - there is obviously something very wrong for little me to have so much and much of it to have so little.
-Second, it feels very much real: humanity sucks. That is a fact that I am very much aware of, that I see every day in myself, in others, in the state of affairs, on the news, in pictures, in my conscience, in the direct contrast of my beautiful God. So I think that getting lost in that gives me a certain sense of stability; that is something I know I am reasonable in. (Of course, [to me] logically rejoice is also reasonable, when considering God's awesome-nicity.) So it's easy to feel sad, it makes me feel connected and not lost inside of myself and substantial, stable and tied down and not as if I'm about to float away in all of my ignorance.
These two points run together very much.

I don't think it's just me. Maybe I have my unique reasons (though I doubt that - I think many though not all can relate), but it seems that there is evidence of this bizarre appeal of tragedy and depression all over the place, at least in the world in which survival is not the only priority a person can afford to worry about. Looking at the States for example - why do we continue to produce movies and music and literature that make us cry? We love to prize on the relatability of tragedy to all humans; heartbreak and divorce and disappointment run as deep in the entertainment sphere (ironic the use of the word 'entertainment') as they do in the real world. More and more people are found sucked into themselves, with self-abuse and depression and drugs rampant. I guess it's also fascination with the abomination. Or perhaps this is partly the origin of fascination with the abomination.
It's interesting to me all the charm we find in tragedy.



Instinct lies in the gut. The most 'savage' (closest to animal?) of our human traits resides in our bodies. I find it interesting that also inextricably tied to our flesh is contrition, festering and eating away at our hearts and our guts - no doubt a God-borne sentiment if ever there was one. This to me is a distinct reminder of God as man.

And also evidence to His continuing use of material, Creation, flesh as tools in bringing us closer to Him. Which is, according to the Anglican perspective, what the Eucharist is. The lack of faith in the strange reality of Christ's presence in the Eucharist seems to me to be based in an underlying perspective that downplays material and Creation and God's involvement in that, that ultimately doubts the man of Christ, the word made flesh, the skin and bone and heart and blood of our Almighty, corpus Christi. God tied himself so irreparably to the flesh and humanity when He made Himself man - why is it utterly unbelievable that He would do that still today in a continued effort to bring us to Him? I don't mean to open discussion as to the validity of the Anglican perspective on the Eucharist (though if you'd like to, I won't stop you), only to offer this as some sort of chipping away at the standard of reasonable doubt that seems to have been built up against it.



It seems to me that the most valid and true injustice in the world is the suffering of children - they are innocent, they are blameless, they have potential. Humans are evil, but adults are more capable of knowing better. And as our bodies age (and our hearts grow colder), it seems we are only fighting fate in battling physical pain or deterioration. If the bodies were meant to grow so old they wouldn't decay so.

The picture is from our 2005 trip to Viet Nam - I miss it very, very much right now. I also miss the clear and poignant perspective I had and had to share, right in front of me, in Viet Nam.



Currently reading:
Harry Potter y la Cámara Secreta
The Count of Monte-Cristo
The Twilight Series

Currently listening to:
new Coldplay cd!
Abracadavers, The Classic Crime
this guy - jwoo. He's awesome!

My duty is to love and boys with long hair.

Title sounds like my duty is to love and my duty is to boys with long hair. Oops.
Topics: Boys with long hair, and 'my duty is to love'.

I am finding myself becoming more and more jaded and I cannot reason myself out of it. I don't enjoy it. I hate it. Help me!

A friend (nahidface) asked me my opinion on this issue: When is the time to abandon our responsibility to keeping peace in order to fight, and when is the time to sit back and watch injustices occur?


My reply was something like this:


First, my primary responsibility is and always will be to love.

Second, if I am going to fight for a reason that is not purely stemming from love, I will be fighting for truth. Truth, to me, is what is eternal, lasting, and top priority. Truth is what affects beyond any earthly influence.*

Third, any other fighting I do should be a direct result of love. If I fight injustice, it should be because I love God and His people, and thus do not want them to feel the effects of injustice. If I fight hunger, it should be because I love God and His people, and thus do not want them to be hungry. If I fight a tyrannic government or power, it should be because I love God and His people, and thus don't want them to be oppressed. Etc.
The minute I begin to fight out of hatred (I would like to say anger.) towards the people who are doing the injustice, or making people hungry, or oppressing a people, rather than fighting out of love for the suffering, is the minute, I think, that I go wrong. The minute I begin to fight out of selfishness -- to further my reputation, or appear altruistic, or get attention, or to make friends or find a good boyfriend or earn money or get a cool new t-shirt, or so many other reasons -- is the minute I go wrong. The minute I begin to fight out of pride -- believing I'm doing good for the world rather than God is doing good for the world through me (which can be interpreted in many, many different ways, I think) -- is the minute I go wrong. The minute I begin to fight just out of habit, even, is I think the minute I go wrong. And many other possible distractions. The minute I abandon love to fight is the minute I go wrong.
Because fighting is not, I don't think, good, unless necessary. It is disturbing the peace and joy.
I don't even think fighting just for the sake of justice or un-hunger (etc.) is good. We should fight because we love. Again, I believe the minute we abandon love to fight is the minute we go wrong. And so if fighting means un-loving (which isn't even hating!), in any way whatsoever, if it means un-loving Hitler or racists or Saddam Hussein or serial killers or rapists, then it should be avoided. If our desire to fight for anything ever conflicts with our duty to love, it should be set aside. Love should never be abandoned.


Would like to point out that this is only my idea of an ideal. I am utterly unsuccessful. And the idea's awfully recent, anyway.
Gandhi, I think, was the best this earth has seen (that has lasted in the history books, at least).


*Of course, I believe that most often fighting for truth is a direct result of love anyway. A love of truth? Is this a valid love (that is, a love worth fighting for)?
If it is, then that would make a love of justice a valid love. Is fighting for a love of justice different than fighting for justice?



Awfully unrelated, but: geez, I am getting frustrated with long-, straight-, shiny-, soft-haired boys. It's so unattractive and unmanly to me, and it seems so completely about appearance because, really, we all know long hair is inconvenient, especially if you're going to bother conditioning and treating it constantly so it feels and looks nice and especially if you're in a cool band and rock out on stage all the time. Why do heterosexual, talented guys enjoy looking like girls? There seems to be no reason other than to be stereotypically unstereotypical.
To each his own, I suppose.



Just finished The Great Divorce, by C.S.L. Will hopefully get time to talk about later.



Current music:
all of the songs on The Almost's purevolume.
Truth in Sincerity (album), by Amber Pacific
Still Fighting It, Ben Folds (Five? I don't think Rockin' The Suburbs was a solo album.)