Flipping a Light Switch
I keep coming back to the simple act of flipping on of a light switch, as the most eloquent way to discuss my faith journey. Recently, I came across a feature by New York Times columnist Tish Harrison Warren, an Anglican Priest, whose writing consistently moves and enlightens me. In the story, she interviews psychiatrist and author Curt Thompson. The piece examines “burn out,” suggesting that the most potent antidote for a depleted lifeforce is not to relax and do less, but to do more: to reach out for the help and support of others. Not disconnecting to restore our energy, but reconnecting with others who can help. Thompson says it’s common for us to search for answers on our own when we experience profound periods of discouragement, but he says that no individual can resolve things on their own. We need each other. Our brains need the help of another brain. Help comes from the sympathetic ear of someone willing to listen. This is an apt description of fellowship, which is a byproduct of dwelling in a faith community. There are other gems in the Times story: Thompson says many of his patients don’t really want to be well…just not sick. “It hasn’t occurred to them,” he says, “that they are going to have to change their life if they want their life to change.” In one of her final questions, Warren rightly asks where God is in all of this. Thompson says that God is where He always is- right in the room. This is exactly what I mean to say about my own faith journey. It’s like this: imagine being in a room in total darkness; the room seems empty because you can’t see a thing. If you have ever toured a subterrain cave, you may have experienced the complete absence of light, that is only possible deep underground, when your guide extinguishes the lights momentarily for dramatic effect. The darkness is profound and unsettling. Even with your eyes wide open, you can’t see a thing- not even your hand in front of your face. It’s like you disappear into the darkness, like floating in oblivion, even while your feet are on solid ground. But the cave, just like the rooms we dwell in, are not empty. And you see that clearly in the instant that the light is flipped back on. God is where He always is, right in the room. The Bible affirms this over and over. Psalm 145 is just one place: “The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth” The musical pairing is Rock of Ages- “open your eyes, brother, He’s around.” Until next time, be safe, stay strong and keep walking in the light.
Rock of Ages
God of life, God of hope
in a bullet train, on a slow boat
God of sorrows, God of tears
lay your hands on me, calm my fears
Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock of ages…
When Jesus walked, from now ‘till then
San Diego to Jerusalem
Westminster Abbey to the Vatican walls
up the road and down the hall
Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock of ages…
Rock, rock, rock of ages
In the morning I, open up my eyes
I see the trees, I see the skies
It’s your world Lord, you made it all
we sing your praises, in one accord
Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock of ages…
Jesus says to turn our cheek
Jesus says the strong are meek
there’s one thing we can be sure of
they will know us by our love
Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock of ages…
Rock, rock, rock of ages
He is a father to the fatherless
orphans and widows He will bless
He is up there riding the clouds
open your eyes brother, He’s around
Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock of ages…