Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Uncertainty

I certainly didn't expect to come to the shadow of Canterbury Cathedral and do so much blogging, but we have free time built in to our schedule where it feels weird to be doing homework, and the atmosphere itself invites reflection.  Especially at 3 degrees Celsius and rain outside; and me without waterproof shoes or a coat!  I'll go out for cream tea later and just stay there :-)  Well... if the Trappist has scones again, which they didn't yesterday :-(

Anyway, I just wanted to come out here and reflect on my own sense of anxiety as I contemplate checking my e-mail, where my notice from Teach For America awaits.  E-mails were supposed to go out at 6 EST last night, which means if I had stayed up another 20 minutes last night I would have gotten it before going to bed, but I chose to sleep instead and find out in the morning; but if my wife had been available (again, after 20 more minutes she probably would have been) I might have just checked then.

I just don't like finding out about decisions like this.  Something about the im-personable-ness of e-mail really puts me off it.  Some of you will recall how I waited for three days to get my Seminary mailing rather than log into my online application account and find out if I'd been accepted.  I just don't like the internet; finding out in a physical object that I hold in my hands feels more real.

I realized also this morning that it probably has something to do with my Advent spirituality.  I don't mind waiting, really.  And, because I wait, I don't get quite as invested in the outcome; rather, I remember that my identity does not at all rest on the decision of a seminary admissions committee or the human relations department at Teach For America.  I am still a husband and a son and a friend whether I got in or I did not.  I'm still on pilgrimage in Canterbury Cathedral.  I still have a week to look forward to in Edinburgh and London with my wife.  I'll still have moments of laughter and honest intimacy with my classmates in the coming days.  I often think that personality is as much a matter of habit as anything else, and getting into TFA or not getting in can't change my habits.  In fact, choosing to wait until at least 10:36 this morning (the time it is now) is confirming a habit that I have made uniquely mine rather than displacing it.

So, I'll leave with the following exercise:

What happens if I get into TFA?  I'll feel like I have some insurance.  I have an option for a job for next year, and one that makes financial sense.  At any rate, that is, if my wife got in as well.  I will have succeeded at something I put my mind to, been accepted for something I applied too.  I'll feel successful, accomplished, talented (don't those things make good idols?).

What happens if I don't get into TFA?  I'll feel serious rejection, possibly for the first time in my life (The honors program at my college?  Not getting into Boston College?  In hindsight, I'm grateful for both of those things.  God knew what was up, even if I was mad about it).  But with regards to the future, I will have to deal with uncertainty and doubt.  What is God's plan?  Where am I supposed to go?  What am I supposed to do?  Who am I supposed to be?

And then it dawned on me: I'm dealing with that right now.  By choosing to wait, by praying, by trying to refuse the sins of despair and fear, and accept God's offer of hope.  I do believe - help my unbelief!

Of course, all this emotional processing is less than half of the real story.  My wife has already heard, and we will make our decision together.  Nothing about whether I get in or not matters without whether or not she did.  That's maybe the hardest part - knowing that we'll process this together next week, but all we have for now is Skype (lame).  I'm so grateful that we have each other, and we'll get to move forward to whatever comes together.  I'd much rather have that be my identity than to default to my own idea of success!

Now, before you get the idea that this whole exercise means I hope I don't get in... that's not quite the case.  But it helps me not to fear it so much, even if it will hurt.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Canterbury Candlelight

Fingers fused by flame-burnt wax waning down
From white walls. Light holds angels dim at hand.
I wait.  Linger.  Watch them go before me.
I follow, slowly.  They wait for me, led
In pause by our patient priest.  I join in.
I could have cried.  The candle-bearing
Pilgrims paced each other to the rose-floor,
Symbol for communion breaking us all
Outside the lines.  North has no primate.  He
Takes his own seat, not Augustine's throne.  Love
Empties pride. I sign the cross on my head.
The Dean has left me here alone not sure
If I'll actually follow fellow pilgrims to bed.
The alter is left lit.  My wait is pure.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Pilgrimage, Day One

The first thing I should say is that I'm exhausted, and I'd much rather just go to sleep.  Yes, local time is only 8:59 p.m. but sleep has been hard to come by.  I snatched maybe three hours on the plane, and took a half-hour nap this afternoon... By my count, that makes 3.5 hours of sleep in the last 31.  I normally sleep 8 / 24, so...

However, I know from other experiences that if I don't make some attempt to capture my experiences in writing now, I won't do it... and my memory will be much less apt to keep it all in proper order.

Some of the travel details are pretty meaningless: I watched Black Swan on the plane and found it less terrifying than I thought I would; we sat on the tarmac for what seemed like an eternity but we had an 81 mph tailwind and still made it earlier than our eta; there was nothing to distinguish England from America for the first 45 minutes we were here (well, the first 45 minutes out of customs, anyway) until we saw a British flag.  Otherwise, we pretty much could have still been in New England (haha).

What I have already appreciated most about being on this trip is the chance it has given me to engage my classmates in long and meaningful conversations.  I have such a terribly frenetic pace to my time actually at the Divinity school, pilgrimage has - as it is supposed to - really allowed me to slow down.  I spent the bus ride from school to JFK talking with my friend Matt about church, evangelism, and biblical preaching.  I got to catch up with my friend Emily on the plane, hearing all about her new  relationship and catching her up about what my wife and I might be doing in the next few years (short answer: we don't really know).  I spent the bus ride from Heathrow to Canterbury talking with Otis about theosis and salvation, the Episcopal Church in America's lack of narrative for its vision / mission, and trying to give an account for why I have remained in the Episcopal program, which was much harder to do in words than I would have guessed.  I got to tell my friend Megan all about the future plans my wife and I - as already established - might or might not have.  And that over pints of cider!

Even more than that, though, I think has been the time around meals.  I have gotten to participate in the small talk of my class, the rambling conversations where complaints and points of view and idiosyncrasies come to the fore.  More than anything else I miss those kinds of conversations because of my frenetic pace, the small grist for the mill of community.  I'm there for the big events, but I miss out on the perspectives plural of my classmates because I'm not around while they are processing them on a day-to-day basis.  I'm always rushing off to my own events.  It's not a pattern I like, neither one I can necessarily change; but I'm aware of it in a fresh way, and it's nice to pause from it this week.  I think it may become my unofficial goal for the week to speak meaningfully to each of my classmates about what they have meant to me over the last three years.  However, that might also take the form of letters at graduation (as it did in high school).

Canterbury is beautiful, and hopefully I will post some pictures in the next few days.  I'll just need to buy a camera and a plug adaptor so I can plug my computer in!  Ah, the joys of traveling :-)