Unzenny thoughts from a wannabe monk

I suppose I’m kind of a mystic. Highly spiritual, inclined toward superstition. I’ve been that way since elementary school. As a kid, I remember some highly compulsive praying, bible reading, even tithing (I once gave my whole quarter jar to a random cause because the Mood struck). Around Jr. High, I became enamored of “deep thoughts” and fancied that I was the only one who had them. I see depth and significance even where there is none. I lack the natural talent for bringing life out of the stratosphere and into the day-to-day. I would suck at business. Of course some of my favorite people are the earthy, refreshingly-honest ones who can laugh at themselves. (Here’s lookin’ at you, Lisa Ernster.)

Recently I’ve been thinking about my spiritual goals in pursuing daily hang-out time with Jesus. I’m chewing on a statement from my last blog post: “my relationship with Jesus sometimes looked more like a meditative quest for self-betterment than an actual relationship.” Sure enough. I think part of what I’m looking for in these daily times is a feeling of tranquility…. Spiritual Zen to start my day…. Which, when I think of it that way, makes me laugh. Truth is, life isn’t all that "zenny" to begin with. It’s not meant to be. It’s full of complex feelings and situations for which emotional detachment is unhelpful at best.

I was reading Habakkuk 3: a prayer against the enemies of Israel. I was pretty struck (again) with the tumult and violence of his imagery. Then again… Habakkuk didn’t live in the suburbs. He didn’t wake up and drink coffee each morning in on a brown leather couch. And I imagine he wasn’t a just-think-happy-thoughts kind of guy. Why should he be? He lived in a time of political turmoil and daily physical insecurity.

I imagine gentile armies advancing against sinful Jerusalem much like imagine the Visigoths cresting the hill over Rome: vast barbarian hoards bringing the worst that war has to offer. And Habakkuk prays:

² LORD, I have heard of your fame;
   I stand in awe of your deeds, LORD.
Repeat them in our day,
   in our time make them known;
   in wrath remember mercy.

The enemy advances. In my mind (for some reason), they lurch like orcs… or zombies….

⁵ Plague went before [God];
   pestilence followed his steps.
⁶ He stood, and shook the earth;
   he looked, and made the nations tremble.

Terror spreads through the city as siege ramps are built outside.

¹⁰ the mountains saw you and writhed.
Torrents of water swept by;
   the deep roared
   and lifted its waves on high.

The gates are breached and the enemy of God’s chosen people rush in to conquer and plunder.

 ¹⁶ I heard and my heart pounded,
   my lips quivered at the sound;
decay crept into my bones,
   and my legs trembled.
Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity
   to come on the nation invading us.

Habakkuk watches as soldiers rush past his window creating panic and destruction throughout the city. He feels keenly the uncertainty of his life.

¹⁸ yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
   I will be joyful in God my Savior.

 ¹⁹ The Sovereign LORD is my strength;
   he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
   he enables me to tread on the heights.

My point is that Habakkuk (“can I call ya Hab?”) is no mountain-top guru. Sure he ends on a happy note here. But what I’m saying is that his faith coexists with his other emotions. It doesn’t cancel them out. In one prayer he feels distressed, decaying, anxious, quivery, vengeful, worshipful, and empowered. And he feels okay about that. Do I feel okay about it?

Uh. No. But I want to be okay with it. At home. At church. Every day. It’s a particularly un-zenny idea: that our daily ambition with Jesus shouldn’t be to eliminate unpleasant emotions but to allow them to exist alongside our big-picture beliefs. It’s less Tibetan and more Semitic. But I think in the end it suits us better. After all… we’re not called to be mystics (though I dare say it’s okay to be wired that way).... Just real people getting realer with Jesus as He reveals the really real.