catapult magazine

I received this e-mail this summer and thought some folks in the *cino community might be interested in responding. Reponses of any length can be posted here and I’ll alert Gideon to this thread’s existence if it takes off.

kirstin

Some time ago a friend in a big city told me that some of the people in their church who have the hardest time, vocationally speaking, are 28-year olds working in big corporations. They are no longer novices, they are kind of set on a career, but they don’t really have any significant institutional power yet. They are caught in middle positions where they work very hard, but must conform very closely to insitutitonal expectations if they want to keep their jobs and build their careers. They have limited opportunities to offer leadership or take initiative … and their dreams of changing the world, of making a difference are turning a little stale.

That conversation inspired the idea of trying to pull together an article of encouragement and advice for 28-year olds who believe that they are called to live in the city, and who are doing so, but who are discouraged and confused by the challenges they and their cohort are experiencing—in corporate life, city administration or politics, education, film and other media, the arts, or whatever their area of work.

I’d be delighted if you could write me just one paragraph of such advice and/or encouragement, grounded in your own experience or in your observations of people in this kind of predicament. And if you have friends who would be able to write us a fine paragraph, please forward this request to them. We’ll pull together the responses we receive by September 21 into an article to be published online a week later, and perhaps in our December print issue. Comment will not be paying for contributions to this little print symposium, but we’d be eternally grateful to you …

This article will be part of a series on vocation with the theme "Finding our way to good work." If all goes well we will be publishing articles on vocations in the media and in politics, and on the beginnings of vocation – deciding on a major (in college). Megan Furman (formerly with the World Youth Alliance in New York, now working for Fox in Rome en route to further studies at Oxford) will write for us on "Eleanor Roosevelt, human rights and a vocation to public life."

Sincerely,

Gideon Strauss
Editor, Comment
http://wrf.ca/comment

I’ve been considering these questions a lot lately, too, although also somehow coming to a place of acceptance of lifelong work (with *cino in particular, recognizing that things will happen in time and not when I want them to—and not necessarily with the results I desire). They mostly come into my mind when my inability to maintain any kind of self-discipline emerges, from a small thing like not drinking enough water in a day to big things like failiing to create enough space for study and stillness. They all add up to a feeling that I could be so much ‘further along’ in [what?] if I just had more self-discipline.

We went to a concert the other night by Erin McKeown who said that she stays up late at night reading because she’d rather be reading than sleeping…but I like to sleep. And therefore I don’t read as much as I’d like to or feel like I should. And that’s when the guilt sets in… I’ve had respected friends who have said ‘there are no shoulds in life’ and ‘I don’t do guilt.’ Do these statements represent a kind of liberation that we should strive for, a liberation that would help us transcend the pressure to achieve measurable goals by a certain date? That would allow us to do small thing with a sense of delight and significance?

I have another friend who’s gone through incredible emotional shifts and turmoil over the past year and a half who is emerging on the other side with a realization of the importance of waiting and how it’s built into the liturgical year as a reminder. We wait through Advent for the celebration of Christmas, we wait through Lent and then wait again three days for the resurrection, we wait for the full realization of the Kingdom through the season of Pentecost…and then we start the waiting all over again with Advent. We even wait through a Sabbath day each week. But, Jason asks, what responsibilities come with that waiting/stillness? At a meeting I attended yesterday, Bill B-C (whom some of you know) did a devotional on the difference between wishing and waiting. "Waiting extends our egos into the future…. Hope is God’s will coming out of the future" (Eugene Peterson). I think hope is part of our responsibility—hope for clarity and contentment and transformation that goes beyond what we can possibly imagine from our perspective in the present moment.

As far as the "uncomfortable feeling that one is not doing enough", I think sometimes that can be a helpful motivator when one is stuck in a self-centered rut. But I also think it has the potential to steal every ounce of delight from doing good work and from resting well. I return a lot to the ideas in this poem that Laryn posted on the discussion board four years ago. I also see a quote that Grant posted around the same time, from U2: "Uncertainty can be a guiding light." I’m not sure what that means, but it seems to relate in some way.

A drive to succeed—I remember having a conversation with you years ago, Jason, about our different attitudes toward pursuing acting. I recognized that to suceed in the field in a professional way, I’d have to sacrifice a lot and live with the stress of constant competition. But you seemed to have different gifts/personality to be able to accept those things, including a level of comfort with potential fame that I couldn’t accept for myself. Is it possible that naming these qualitie as "ambition and a drive to succeed" (which have negative connotations) allows us to dismiss what might be good about being able to pursue a vocation in a highly competetive field? Of course, I think we have to be wary of ambition and success becoming idols, but I think there’s the potential to also idolize anti-success and anti-ambition. It seems to have something to do with the ability to hold onto things, but hold them loosely.

Sorry for such a long ramble…obviously pertinent stuff for me, with more questions than answers. And more paradox than black-and-white.

I agree with the "feeling of not achieving what you think you should have by now". These last couple posts have certainly resonated with me.

Part of my discontentment, it seems, is in wondering if I can ever live up to my Potential™ and my expectations. To myself, I feel like I’m living in my own shadow trying to get out of it, trying to be all I should be (but of course, not in an "ambitious" way :shock: ). Of course, potential seems to me related to the idea of Stewardship. We must make good with what we’ve been given. It’s probably not obvious to anyone else observing my life, but only God and I know the gap between what (I think) I could become and where I am now.

And I suppose that amounts to performance anxiety. Well, thank God for Grace, but even Grace should evoke a response of some kind from us. And since the response is never as perfect as it could be, even the response has to be Graciously accepted by God. As we strive, we rest, and as we rest we strive. The Apostle Paul said that Grace was God’s work so that we can’t boast, and yet he still "beat his body" to finish the race. Can there be an odder paradox?

Strangely enough, a song that’s been on my mind lately is one of Grant’s (and/or Joel’s?), "Before I Go":

"Before I go,
I want you to know
I want you to know
Before the doors to this world close
I’ll say what I can’t show

I want to be faithful
I want to be free
Yeah, you know me"

(All apologies if I’ve butchered the lyrics and/or radically subverted the song’s meaning.)

Obviously, the real rest is Heaven, but before then, I’d like to know that I’ve been faithful and free. I’ve been wrestling lately with the idea of contentment. How content should I be with where I am? Should I rest assured that I’m where I should be, or do I need a divine discontentment to keep moving forward? Should I expect and move toward change, or should I focus living as best I can where I am now? (Again, paradoxically, I suspect both.)

Man, you got it so right. That’s how I felt living in Nashville when I wrote that song. And I’ve been trying to maintain this tension between commitment and freedom from commitments for years. Christians are thrust into a system of institutions that are not consistent with the Christian way of life. So it’s no wonder it’s not easy to step into these systems of art-making, theatre, education, government, business as believers. We are constantly under pressure to follow those rules, financial pressure, spiritual pressure, family pressures, our own psychological pressures.

So I wrote "Before I Go" in order to put this tension into words, to place it before myself, to acknowledge it. To "say what I can’t show". Because we can’t resolve this tension ourselves. We can’t do it. So stop trying. This is where God steps in to carry our burden, to make the most of our imperfect offerings. Here’s a lyric I’ve been comforted by. It’s Leonard Cohen’s "Anthem":

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

I don’t know why but I am so comforted by the idea that God uses my imperfections, my shortcomings. It takes some of the pressure off. So all I have to do is continue to commit to the work God has called me to, to be who God wants me to be, and God will harvest the fruit that comes of that obedience. I am not the harvester. When I am tempted to measure my own life according to who I thought I should be at this point in my life, I try to remember that this is me trying to play the role of God and that I will be much better off just dealing with my human responsibilities of obeying God and serving others with my work than trying to be the god of my own life.

To more directly respond to JasonVB’s questions, I agree with U2 that "guilt is not of God". But ambition is good if it is driven by a desire for the right thing. On the other side of my own crisis with these issues, I’ve found myself even more ambitious, more fearless, less apologetic of my desire to make great art and to compete with the great art of my generation. I am more at peace, less strapped with guilt. I see every part of my life as integral to my art-making. I also am more committed to cultivating creativity and art-mindedness in myself. And all this came after I decided that "making it" as an artist was no longer my ambition.

My desire now is increasingly focused on how to obey God in the moments I have been given. So when our band is playing a killer set in front of 3 people in some crappy bar on a Monday night, I am not blinded by the apparent futility of such an act. I see it as a meaningful act in God’s Kingdom, a mustard seed rebellion against a culture that says if you aren’t rich and famous you’re doing something wrong. I certainly would like to take our music to more people and would like to be universally respected for what I’m doing, but that’s not the main focus. I try to see myself as God sees me. It’s a constant discipline.

I am now open to the possibility that my life will not pan out the way I expected, that maybe the making of music is not the be all and end all of my life on this earth, but strangely enough, this has not weakened my desire or abilities as an aspiring musician. In fact, it has allowed me to be a better, free-er artist. It might be akin to the middle finger attitude of punk music. It’s a fearlessness that I think is necessary to be a good artist. If you can overcome the fear of possible failure, you’ll be a better artist and a better person. Christ’s death and resurrection, God’s perpetual love, has won us this freedom from failure. And God continues to work this painful change in us until we give up even our precious "art" to Him. And at that point, we are ready to offer true human freedom to a world that is afraid because we are the "Overcomers" of the book of Revelation, the ones who have walked through the fire already, who have had the impurities burned away by the refining fires, who know the joy that flourishes even in suffering. It’s not a cheap joy that we offer, like the happy clappiness of Praise and Worship songs, it’s a stronger feeling because it grows out of trouble.

So my advice is to see difficulties as proof that God is working in your life, that God cares about you and the work you’re doing. God wants your art to be good too and you may have to suffer through some unpleasant times in order to provide the kind of art God wants for this generation—an art that endures hardships, that offers true freedom from fear, that dares to celebrate the victory of God’s Kingdom over hopelessness, shoddy artistic craft, nihilism, pride, self-deception, careerism, the tyranny of economic systems etc.

So beautiful and true. Thanks again for your comments, Grant. I think these last few posts were exactly what I needed to hear, perhaps what I’ve neeeded to hear for some time. The Leonard Cohen lines, too, speak deep truth to me. Thank you so much for sharing.

Zanz