Bearings Journal | Issue 4 | Abundance | Fall 2022

OUR MISSION Bearings is a student-run journal of Christian thought at the University of Virginia that seeks to provide an interdenominational and interdisciplinary forum for spiritual conversation on Grounds.

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consistent rhythm during my childhood was spring flower planting. Every year in May or June, my mom and I bought packages of seeds at the store – sunflowers, snapdragons, zinnias, sweet peas, and other vibrant garden flowers. Then, we would wait for the right spring day to come and we’d plant. We watered our seeds as diligently as we could, trusting and hoping that they would take root.

But even as we tried to nurture these early sprouts, we knew that their future flourishing was beyond our care.

There were years we waited and weren’t sure if our flowers even took root, but we somehow always had at least some surprising glimpses of new life springing up in our garden. God often preserved the life of our seeds by sending rain or imbuing the shoots with a sort of wild resilience that helped them cling to life.

However much or little our own attempts prospered, we always had vases of flowers to put around our house come August.

In these rhythms of planting and waiting, God reveals his abundant steadfastness.

Similarly, we hope and wait and pray for the seeds and dreams of our own lives to take root, but we really don’t know what form our seeds will take or what the end result

will be. We experience disappointment and shattered expectations as we grow, but God is abundantly faithful to give us what we need. Often, it is even more than we could imagine.

We’ve chosen to explore the idea of Abundance in this fourth issue of Bearings – to relate the concept to friendship and identity, give poetic voice to the doubts and wonders of our own hearts, consider society’s expectations and cultural manifestations of abundance, and encourage trust in God’s faithfulness despite the unknown. I hope that the words, images, and art found in these pages open your eyes to see God’s abundant and loving nature in a new way.

May David’s words in Psalm 23 be true for all of us – “The Lord is my Shepherd. I have everything I need.”

In Christ,

Annika Reynolds Editor-in-Chief

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EXECUTIVE TEAM

Annika Reynolds Editor-in-Chief

Meredith Hicks President

Sophie Burk Publicity Chair

Peter Larsen Design Chair

Carey Thomas Design Assistant

EDITORS Mary Bleech, Sophie Burk, Brett Carey, Maggie McDermott, Anna Heetderks, Sophia Kerns, Sarah Lambert, Maddie Mislock, Mia Oppler, Luke Powers, Sarah Ross, Jessica Tennis, Jimmy Winner

FEATURED ARTISTS

EXECUTIVE TEAM GRADUATES

Sophie Burk | Photography Lauren Campbell | Illustration Nate Diemer | Photography Noelle Lee | Visual Art Carey Thomas | Illustration

Christopher Clemens | Finance Executive ‘22 Madison Gould | Publicity Chair ‘22 Garrett Hicks | Mentor ‘22 Caroline Peterson | Design Chair ‘22

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UNBOUND MARY BLEECH

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KNOWN AND LOVED JASON YU

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UNMEASURED RECIPROCITY DAVID EHRENMAN

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SCARCITY & ABUNDANCE ABI DAVIS

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MINIMALISM: SEEKING ABUNDANCE IN AN AGE OF EXCESS PETER LARSEN

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SHERPA NATE DIEMER

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THE FULNESS THEREOF CLAIRE HUCHTHAUSEN

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LILIAS TROTTER AND THE FOCUSED IMAGINATION RAED GILLIAM

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FINDING OUR PATH PHILIP RUBIO

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LOOKING FOR THE GOOD LIFE MADDIE MISLOCK issue four | 3

O heavenly Father, who hast filled the world with beauty: Open our eyes to behold thy gracious hand in all thy works; that, rejoicing in thy whole creation, we may learn to serve thee with gladness; for the sake of him through whom all things were made, thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Book of Common Prayer, 1979.

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PHOTO FROM NATE DIEMER

MARY BLEECH Surrounded by the congregation and yet so alone I long for the Voice, the Comfort I once thought I knew.

My eyes drift and gaze beyond the stained-glass windows To a vision of my childhood self in her Sunday best, Running through unruly green grass with the love and joy Carried by sweetness and certainty of childlike faith.

Yet sometime along that blissful run, I stumbled down And that “blessed assurance” sung among the pews Became lost in thickets of skepticism and doubt.

But when I step outside to escape my confusion and find The beauty of a cotton candy sky, painted blue and blush Beyond a navy silhouette of boundless mountains, I wonder how there could not be some greater Being Who created this masterpiece for the likes of me?

And when I look to the splendor of a sun Which disappears behind Blue Ridge every night Yet never wavers in its timely return, Is there not a good and gracious Power Whom I can trust is here even when I cannot see?

And if He cared enough to create such masterpieces, Sights so marvelous that my breath wants to run from me, How could I not run to the Voice that’s calling me home?

“When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?”

Psalm 8: 3-4 NIV

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JASON YU

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he Samaritan woman walked slowly, balancing a stone jar on her head, frequently wiping away sweat from her sticky face. The heavy jar offered little protection from the relentless noonday sun. She wished that the arid heat would dissipate. She wished that she didn’t need to trek down the sun-baked path to the well every day. She wished that she would never thirst at all. Still, any amount of physical discomfort was better than enduring the ridicule of the townspeople.

Her face flushed red as she thought about the other women, enjoying the cool evening air, chatting about the latest gossip—probably about her and her newest boyfriend. With no hope of acceptance, she resigned herself as a social outcast, condemned and despised by the people around her.1 Unfortunately, the experience of being a social outcast is all too familiar to LGBTQ+ people. In 2014, a teen from Georgia named Daniel Pierce was kicked out of his home and disowned by his family after coming out as gay.2 Brooklyn Owen, a high school valedictorian, was sent to conversion therapy (which is still alarmingly prevalent in the US) by her Southern Baptist parents and eventually left home in 2018 after receiving their ultimatum: attend their church or move out.3,4 Far from being isolated incidents, LGBTQ+ youth represent 20-40% of an estimated 600,000 or more homeless youths across the country, according to the

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National Gay and Lesbian Task Force Policy Institute.5 The isolating experiences associated with being LGBTQ+ are highlighted by the NEXT Generation Health Study which found that queer adolescents have a higher risk of suicidal ideation over their lifetime compared to their heterosexual peers—26.1% to 13%, respectively. They also found that 12% of queer youth had a higher risk of suicide attempts compared to 5.4% of heterosexual teens in the study.6 If Christians have any concern for the lives of LGBTQ+ people, then Christians must begin by acknowledging that much of the pain and trauma faced by LGBTQ+ people originates from the church.

I was 17. My youth group and I were headed to Myrtle Beach for our summer retreat. I was shaking in the charter bus as every little bump in the highway sent me bouncing in my seat. I was shaking from the perpetual air conditioning that still had a way of reaching me no matter which direction I turned the vent. But most of all, I was shaking with nervousness as I overheard a conversation surface in the seats nearby me. The students were discussing their stances on LGBTQ+ issues and debating whether it was possible for a Christian to be gay. The fact that this was a point of contention among them astonished me, and I felt my heart pound and my palms become sweaty as I considered whether I should turn around and join the conversation, sharing my own experiences as a gay Christian and shedding light on their ignorance, or if I should just remain silent. As my internal debate raged on, so did the debate among my peers, attracting the attention of more and more students who joined in with their opinions. I felt dizzy. Eventually, the debate reached the ears of my youth pastor. Thankful that he would set the record straight instead of me having to out myself, I breathed a sigh of relief. Imagine my horror, then, when he opened his mouth and began to say things that weren’t just untrue, but directly contradictory to my personal experience. I struggled to hold back tears as my youth pastor explained that being gay was a choice. I wanted to scream at him, “How dare you? Do you really think that if being gay was a choice that I would be the way that I am?” Instead, a paralyzing numbness engulfed my body and mind, leaving no room for any sorrow or rage.

I am not alone. Historically, LGBTQ+ people have been hurt by the church in numerous ways, from being pushed out of leadership positions to the pernicious effects of conversion therapy. In light of these negative experiences with the church, many LGBTQ+ people, especially those who grew up in the church, are now seeking refuge in politics, activism, the pride parade, or the gay bar — anywhere away from the pain and condemnation associated with organized religion.7 This should be a red flag for Christians. If the secular culture is doing a better job of making LGBTQ+ people feel welcome and accepted than the church, then something is deeply flawed. Meanwhile, the world watches as Christians — literally “little Christs,” or representatives of Christ — spectacularly fail to uphold Jesus’ teachings of radical acceptance for all people. In the words often attributed to Mahatma Gandhi, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” A more contemporary example comes from Olivia Rodrigo’s song “hope ur ok” addressed to a friend whose “parents cared more about the Bible than being good to their own child.”8 The church must step up and do a better job of imitating Christ,9 who set the perfect example for his followers through his interaction with the Samaritan woman.

For context, Samaritans were of a mixed ethnicity and religion with respect to the Jews, practicing elements of Judaism and worshiping Yahweh alongside other gods.

The Jews looked down upon Samaritans with hostility as unfaithful half-breeds, often refusing to do business or even speak with them.10 As the Samaritan woman approached the well, Jesus asked her, “Will you give me a drink?” Taken aback, her dry tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. In Jewish culture, it was unacceptable for a man to speak with a woman privately (John 4:27).1 Furthermore, we later find out that this woman had lived a life of adultery: she had five husbands, and the man that she currently lived with was not her husband (John 4:18).1 The prevailing attitude towards this woman is one of judgment and hatred, encapsulated by the harsh thoughts of Simon the Pharisee in Luke 7: “If this man [Jesus] were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is — that she is a sinner.”11 Jesus,

however, cares about people more than he cared about following cultural norms. Defying expectations and crossing ethnic, social, and religious lines, Jesus had compassion on the woman and offered her living water, a symbol for everlasting life with him (John 4:10).1 Let us not gloss over the weight of this encounter. Despite her promiscuous past, Jesus extended the Samaritan woman an invitation to experience his saving grace for the rest of eternity.

It’s noteworthy that in the book of John, the Samaritan woman, not Nicodemus the Pharisee, is the very first person to whom he reveals his identity as the Messiah.

I firmly believe that Jesus, were he to begin his ministry now (instead of ~30 A.D.), would be found not at the home of the well-respected faith leader, but at the gay bar, the pride parade, the homeless shelter and the abortion clinic — with the “sinners” and those who have been trampled underfoot by society. In the same way, the church ought to welcome everybody with open arms, to be a lighthouse and a haven to all people regardless of sexual orientation, demonstrating love to our neighbors as Jesus emphatically commanded in Matthew 22:37.12 If Jesus did not come to condemn the world but rather to save it (John 3:17), then his followers ought not condemn people but rather spread the good news of Jesus.13 In the same breath that Jesus withholds condemnation, he also calls his followers to personal

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holiness (John 8:11).14 While other Christians disagree,15 I hold to a traditional interpretation of the Bible, namely that sexual intimacy belongs exclusively to heterosexual marriage. In Genesis 2:24, God lays out his design for marriage: “For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.” In the New Testament, Jesus reaffirms and even tightens the Old Testament law which states that any sex outside the context of heterosexual marriage is sinful (Matthew 19:4-6). Similarly, men sleeping with men is prohibited in the Old Testament law (Leviticus 18:22, 20:13), and the logic of opposite-sex marriage and the prohibition on homosexual sex is reaffirmed multiple times by Paul in 1 Corinthians 6 and 1 Timothy 1.16 Here an apparent tension arises. If I accept the traditional interpretation of Scripture on marriage, how can I reconcile my same-sex attraction with my innate need for intimacy? Naturally, some argue that reserving marriage for opposite-sex couples debars gay Christians from a life of intimacy, but I disagree.

If anything, this belief reflects a deeper problem of overvaluing marriage at the expense of biblical singleness. Indeed, the prevailing attitude in society, and especially on college campuses, is that sex is the gold standard for intimacy while friendships are second-rate. Even the church touts marriage as the key to intimacy, as though marriage is an essential milestone in the default Christian life.

If I accept the traditional interpretation of Scripture on marriage, how can I reconcile my same-sex attraction with my innate need for intimacy?

Whether you believe that gay marriage is affirmed in the Bible or not, marriage is not necessary for any Christian, regardless of sexual orientation. Far from condemning same-sex relationships, the Bible encourages samesex relationships at a level of intimacy that Christians seldom reach. In the Old Testament, we find examples of healthy same-sex friendships such as the selfless

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sacrifice characterizing the bond between Ruth and Naomi and the intimate camaraderie between David and Jonathan.17 Throughout the New Testament, we find reminders that Christians are to be inextricably bound together in Christ. As the apostle Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12:12, “the body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts; and though all its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ.”18 Christians are to be “one body” (Romans 12:5), “one mind” (Philippians 2:2), “one heart” (Romans 15:6), brothers and sisters (Matthew 12:50), and “knit together in love” (Colossians 2:2). Paul compares his gentle affection for believers in Thessalonica to that of “a mother caring for her little children” (1 Thessalonians 2:7).18 Throughout accounts of the early church, Christians are seen sharing possessions, encouraging one another, living and eating together, confessing sin, bearing each other’s burdens, and expressing love physically — the command “greet one another with a holy kiss” appears in the New Testament five times.18 I believe that the Bible reserves sexual intimacy for heterosexual marriage, but the intimacy that comes from gospel partnership, best experienced through same-sex friendship, is not a lesser thing. As author Rebecca McLaughlin points out in her book Confronting Christianity, we have this on the authority of Jesus himself, who never married, invested most deeply in same-sex friendship, and declared, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).19,20 Intimacy is the intersection between being known and being loved. Therefore, in Christian community, the abundant life that comes from intimacy with fellow Christians can only be experienced through bringing our full, authentic selves. Rather than hiding parts of ourselves we would rather no one know about, we are called to confess sins to one another and pray for one another, that God would bring healing (James 5:16).21 This is impossible in a distrustful, inhospitable environment, and the church still has a long way to go in creating an atmosphere where all people feel safe to open up without fear of judgment, abandonment, or indifference. All Christians must work to normalize

PHOTO FROM SOPHIE BURK

conversations about sexuality and sexual orientation in the church, and LGBTQ+ Christians have a unique opportunity to share their stories in order to bring attention to these issues. Taking this step towards intimacy can be terrifying, especially in light of hurtful past experiences, but when done in the arms of a truly Christ-like community, the risk is worth it. One friend of mine, after coming out to his campus fellowship during a weekend retreat, described the experience as “freeing,” as though a heavy load had been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in his life, he was fully seen and fully embraced by a Christian community.

Intimacy is the intersection between being known and being loved.

Your story is powerful. Vulnerability is not only edifying to Christians, but it is attractive to nonChristians. Take a look at the Samaritan woman’s response to Jesus’ compassionate invitation: “So the woman left her water jar and went away into town and said to the people, ‘Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?’ They went out of the town and were coming to him.”1 Later, we read that “many Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony.”1 For the first time in her life, the Samaritan woman experienced the intimacy of Christ — being fully known and fully loved — and she couldn’t keep it to herself. Rather than harboring understandable resentment against the judgmental townspeople, the woman began to share the good news, reflecting a profound transformation by the power of Christ.

I am reminded of another friend with same-sex attraction, an outspoken Christian who shares his stories as a launchpad for evangelistic conversations.

Nonbelievers are often curious about his faith in Jesus.

What is it about Jesus that compels this man, who looks so different from the stereotypical Christian of their imaginations, to have such deep conviction that Jesus is really who he says he is, to overcome trial after trial and emerge on the other side proclaiming that

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following Jesus is worth it, to tell everyone around him about this living water that never runs dry? His response echoes that of the Samaritan woman: “Come and see.”1

John 4:1-42, NIV. Redhair, Adrianna. “Daniel Pierce, gay Georgia teen kicked out of home, reflects on his situation one year later,” GLAAD, August 4, 2015. Accessed March 12, 2021. https://www.glaad.org/blog/ daniel-pierce-gay-georgia-teen-kicked-out-home-reflects-his-situation-one-year-later.

3 Mallory, Christy, Brown, Taylor N.T., and Conron, Kerith J. Conversion Therapy and LGBT Youth (Los Angeles: The Williams Institute, 2019), https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/wpcontent/uploads/Conversion-Therapy-Update-Jun-2019.pdf.

4 Kacala, Alexander. “Rejected by parents, gay valedictorian is going to college, with $50K from donors,” NBC News, July 31, 2018. Accessed March 12, 2021. https://www.nbcnews.com/ feature/nbc-out/rejected-parents-gay-valedictorian-going-college-50k-donors-n896296.

5 “Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Youth: An Epideimic of Homelessness,” National LGBTQ Task Force, 2022. Accessed March 12, 2021. https://www.thetaskforce.org/lgbt-youthan-epidemic-of-homelessness/.

6 Mastroianni, Brian. “LGBQ Teens’ Risk of Suicide Far Greater Than Straight Peers,” Healthline, September 27, 2021. Accessed March 12, 2021. https://www.healthline.com/health-news/lgbqteens-risk-of-suicide-far-greater-than-straight-peers.

7 Woodell, Brandi, and Schwadel, Philip. “Changes in Religiosity Among Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Emerging Adults,” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 59, no. 2 (June 2020): 379-396. https://doi.org/10.1111/jssr.12653.

8 Olivia Rodrigo, “hope ur ok,” track 11 on SOUR, Geffen Records, 2021, Spotify streaming.

9 Ephesians 5:1, NIV, “Hatred Between Jews and Samaritans,” Bible.org, February 2, 2009.

Accessed March 13, 2021. https://bible.org/illustration/hatred-between-jews-and-samaritans.

10 Gagnon, Robert A. J. The Bible and Homosexual Practice: Text and Hermeneutics. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2002.

11 Luke 7:39, NIV. 12 Matthew 22:37, NIV. 13 John 3:17, NIV. 14 John 8:11, NIV; Matthew 5:48, NIV. 15 Sprinkle, Preston, et al. Two Views on Homosexuality, the Bible, and the Church. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2016.

16 Genesis 2:24, NIV; Matthew 19:4-6, NIV; Leviticus 18:22, NIV; Leviticus 20:13, NIV; 1 Corinthians 6:9-10, NIV; 1 Timothy 1:9-10, NIV. 17 Ruth 1, NIV; 1 Samuel 18, NIV. 18 1 Corinthians 12:12, NIV; Romans 12:5, NIV; Philippians 2:2, NIV; Romans 15:6, NIV; Matthew 12:50, NIV; Colossians 2:2, ESV; 1 Thessalonians 2:7, NIV; 2 Corinthians 13:12 NIV; Romans 16:16, NIV. 19 John 15:13, ESV. 20 McLaughlin, Rebecca. Confronting Christianity: 12 Hard Questions for the World’s Largest Religion. Wheaton: Crossway, 2019.

21 James 5:16, NIV. 1 2

Noelle Lee Colliding apart, 2022 Gouache on paper

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DAVID EHRENMAN

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hat are you looking for in a relationship?

Often, we try to frame the answer in economic terms as we ‘invest’ our time, resources, and emotions in others and expect them to do the same. If the investment starts to perform poorly, we either cut our losses or carry on as the costs sink further. This model attempts to objectify relationships, allowing us to weigh how they benefit us. Ideally, of course, intimate personal connections are supposed to have an equal ‘give and take,’ as if the time, money, and care we ‘spend’ were balanced on a scale to see that neither side takes advantage of the other. The idea makes a certain amount of sense — quantifying our happiness means we can measure it, understanding our situation better and judging how balanced our relationships really are. Yet even this conception of balance sets up two sides opposing each other rather than working together, unified. When relationships are beautiful as well as beneficial and balanced, they are far more organic than transactional.

Healthy relationships are reciprocal, that is, mutual and complementary. They require each person to give 14 | bearings

and receive. Both actions are essential to maintaining communication and interaction, let alone building something positive and meaningful. For example, a long-distance friend and I went through a period of time where they consistently initiated conversations.

Without them saying anything about it, I apologized for my busyness and told them that I wished the initiative was more balanced. Not long afterwards the situation was reversed as my schedule cleared up while theirs grew more cluttered. Based on this situation, we came up with the term “unmeasured reciprocity” as a principle for friendships. Each person contributes to the relationship, and each appreciates their contribution without resorting to unhealthy or unhelpful comparison.

Envision ‘give and take’ as the living function of a body.

Imagining people as the cells, individuals might be described as self-interested, but a holistic view reveals larger purpose and wider benefit just as individual cells empower the function of one creature’s life.

Relationships become a crucial part of life, facilitating participation in a unified body. A million interacting

parts and dynamic relationships catalyze motion, express beauty, and enact flourishing. Recognizing the world as a whole opens the door to behavior that benefits everyone, ourselves included. By using our knowledge and abilities healthily, we embrace our roles in the relationships through which we participate.

Individuals work towards their own health and accept what they need from others to heal and grow, offering the same to others in turn. In this light, giving and receiving are natural, and in fact, necessary.

One temptation we face is the tendency, conscious or unconscious, towards duplication. We naturally offer what we have been given; each of our experiences lays the foundation for our approaches. Embedded in advice and help is the desire to be known and understood yourself. When parents, mentors, or friends tell stories, we should step out of ourselves and learn more about those who care about us, paying attention to their

experiences, rather than simply dismissing their words as inapplicable to our situation. At the same time, in the spirit of giving and receiving, we should be cautious when we offer advice and help. None of us are static, unchangeable monoliths and no one can be a carbon copy of anyone else. This is a beautiful thing — abundance thrives on diversity. Relationships become constructive and expansive instead of constricting or limiting. Rather than assuming we know better, engaging in reciprocal humility and vulnerability helps us to know more. Listening means growing. We understand more of the world and understand those around us better. In turn, we express what we know of the world and help others to know us better too.

Knowledge is part of humanity and part of life. But life is greater than knowledge, and reality is greater than humanity. On the whole, the cosmos might be described as a machine, similar to the human body.

PHOTO FROM NATE DIEMER

Despite an abundance of knowledge and experience the body, consciousness, and the person cannot be understood through a purely mechanistic lens.

Similarly, motivations and relationships can’t be captured by the constructs of economic language since they are a much broader part of life. The Bible uses the body as a metaphor for the relationship between spouses, Christians, and between individuals and God. As part of a dynamic universe, relationships are infused with the abundance of life. I quite like the gesture of holding my hands out, palms up, as an image of giving and receiving. Sometimes a friend may take my hands, or they’ll simply grasp the movement of the air, or I’ll reach as if to God in a realization of organic, living union in motion.

See Genesis 2:18-24 for the application to marriage, Romans 12:4-13 for application to Christian fellowship, Colossians 1:15-18 for the relationship between Christ and the Church, and 1 Corinthians 12:27-28 for the collective and individual valences of relationship with Christ.

PHOTO FROM NATE DIEMER

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ABI DAVIS Scarcity at Dawn, beginning, tip of the sun, outstretched.

Worry for the day ahead, and for the night to followthat there will not be enough.

Not enough hope to sustain you, that perhaps today is the day when all your fears become true.

This day, that the Lord has made, that he has begun and he will end, because that is simply what he does.

In him, there is more than enough, hope that can fill oceans and appetites, passed gently to you, over a dinner table.

You cannot protect those you love from that which is sharp, and no one is here to protect you.

You are the beloved of the one true Protector, it is his desire that you lower your weapons, he does not need you to fight his battles.

The slim flame of your potentialacademic, occupational, creative, has been blown out.

He has seen you growing since your birth, he is proud of you, he knows you are trying, he loves you.

You are not enough, you never have been, reallythis hole has been there all along.

This love is enough for you, it covers the whole Earth, it can fix that hole in your heart.

Cradle your inadequacy, linger with it, bathe in it, you are a crumbling tower.

These strings that you are holding so tightly will unravel you if you let them, stop pretending that you are in control.

It is alright to be afraid, but you are not on trial here, look around- you are home.

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Abundance at Sunset, ending, the descent of light after a long hard day.

It will not be easy, these things never are, but it will feel good to give up.

We were not created to bear this alone, this life, this weight, this hurthe has borne it with us.

You don’t have to be afraid, there is a happy end to your story, just look at the sun- it is rising.

Noelle Lee Organic algorithm, 2022 Oil on canvas

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SEEKING ABUNDANCE IN AN AGE OF EXCESS PETER LARSEN

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midst tense Cold War conflicts of 1957, a 10,000 square foot supermarket opened at the Zagreb International Trade Fair in Yugoslavia. Fully stocked with produce, meat, and canned foods of all varieties, the store was a shining symbol of abundance. The market was tactfully crafted to send the convincing message that capitalism was far superior to communism in improving standard of living. For Americans, and for much of the modern world, a stocked cornucopia of a grocery store was and is emblematic of abundance, security, and prosperity. While it is clear that free enterprise has improved standard of living and alleviated poverty across the globe, inquiry into the very things that make abundance possible reveal that the pursuit of more still always incurs a cost. For those of us who are Christians, it is essential to thoughtfully critique and analyze our context in an effort to discern the beauty and the pain woven into it. Is it true that more is always better? In exploring this question, I found minimalism to be a paradoxical, incomplete truth that rejects the excessive consumerism and busyness encouraged by free enterprise. Originally, I experimented with minimalism as an alternative to the stress and anxiety I found in my pursuit of more, but I only found it to be a quest for increased control over my life.

Before becoming a lifestyle movement, Minimalism emerged in the 1960s as an artistic style in film, dance, music, painting, and sculpture. With roots in modern artistic styles, minimalism was characterized issue four | 21

by “severity of means, clarity of form, and simplicity of structure and texture”.1 Artists like Frank Stella, Robert Morris, and Donald Judd approached their work in a radical manner, pioneering a reductionist approach to every facet of their work. Minimalism was not merely a descriptor of form, but also an exercise in simplicity of process. There are many who critique the simplicity of minimalist art, but in my own artistic journey, I now realize that the significance of a work is not primarily found in its complexity of form, but in its capacity to evoke emotion and provoke action in an audience.

The intrigue of minimalism is in its claim that radical clarity and simplicity in both form and technique can draw viewers into a uniquely profound focus in the present moment.

Drawing influence from the art world, minimalism has emerged as a lifestyle approach. Public figures like Marie Kondo and the Minimalists (Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus) encourage their audiences to live with less and declutter their lives. CEOs like Mark Zuckerberg and Steve Jobs are examples of other famous minimizers. Zuckerberg, especially known for his wardrobe of identical gray t-shirts, shared his mindset in a public Q&A in 2014. He explained, “I get to wake up every day and help serve more than a billion people. And I feel like I’m not doing my job if I spend any of my energy on things that are silly or frivolous about my life”.2 While it may be a stretch to characterize a multi-billionaire as a minimalist, there is truth to Zuckerberg’s notion that a detachment from physical possessions cultivates an increased level of focus and presence. It is also important to note that Zuckerberg’s minimalism functions to maximize performance in his work. In most cases, minimalism should be understood as both a subtractive and additive exercise.

The intrigue of minimalism is in its claim that radical clarity and simplicity in both form and technique can draw viewers into a uniquely profound focus in the present moment.

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In my own life, minimalism quickly became a self-help strategy to relieve stress and anxiety, as well as a way to achieve a higher level of focus and productivity. One of my first experiments was my attempt to practice a “packing party”.3 Often viewed as a jump start into a minimalist lifestyle, “packing parties” invite new converts to pack all of their belongings into cardboard boxes as if they are about to move to a new home. Then, over the course of three weeks, they remove items as needed each day. At the end of three weeks, remaining items are donated, sold, or recycled. I was curious, so I tried it. When my parents moved out of my childhood home this past year, I sorted through all of my preschool art, sports trophies, baseball cards, and homework assignments, and packed everything I wanted to keep into three cardboard boxes. Upon returning to school, I recycled old papers, donated seldom used clothing, and organized my personal space — namely my desk.

To minimize further, I started cutting back on my time commitments too, shifting my focus to eight tasks on a daily notecard. By designing my daily life in a spirit of minimalism, I initially felt I was turning a page in my health, my productivity, and even my spiritual life.

But as I cleaned, took inventory of my possessions, and sought to purge items from my life, minimalism’s magic formula started to break down. I thought there would be an aha moment — an enlightenment of sorts. My version of minimalism became a means to maximize control. I had forgotten the deeper desire of my heart — the desire that drew me to minimalism in the first place. I wanted peace.

The truth I saw in minimalism is that the excess of stuff and unceasing activity can monopolize our attention.

But, once the work is done to strip away extra baggage, this minimization framework has little to say about where to fix any newfound attention. In an attempt to appeal to their large audience, the Minimalists are vague in explaining where to place newfound focus. They explain, “Minimalism is the thing that gets us past the things so we can make room for life’s important things — which aren’t things at all.” This is, as they would say, a “pithy answer”, but it leaves us with a massive question to decide for ourselves: what are “life’s important things”, and how can we recalibrate our lives to focus on them?

Christian ascetics of all backgrounds have sought to become more like Jesus by rejecting power, money, food, and striving. Of course, not all Christians are called into lives of asceticism, but there is certainly much to learn from this way of living in an age of excess. Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, a 17th century French monk, is known for fixing his attention on God in the simplest of tasks while working in the kitchen of his monastery. While the self-help approach of minimalism encourages us to rely on ourselves to simplify our lives and take control over the loose ends, the simplicity of Jesus calls us into further dependence on Him. He beckons us to rest in Him and let go of control.

As a student at the University of Virginia, I swim in a culture that tests limits. Everyone I know is too busy, too stressed, or has too much on their plate. It makes sense that this would be the common student experience.

I recently watched a video from the University that communicated the goals and the “endless pursuit” of the institution. The video beckoned students to push boundaries and “imagine a mind, illimitable”. As students, my peers and I are called upon to test the limit, pioneer a new future, and create a new world.

Sounds easy enough, right?

The Bible is clear — we are limited beings. Moreover, the story of the Tower of Babel teaches us that even when we collaborate with one another, we will never attain the same level of power and knowledge God possesses. While I can critique minimalist ideas, I must also accept that they provide a window into a lifestyle that recognizes human limitations. For me, and for many of my fellow students, this is a great place to start recalibrating our lives.

While minimalism is celebrated as a countercultural secular phenomenon, Christians have been practicing elements of minimalism within the spiritual discipline of simplicity for centuries. Christian monasticism is one such expression of simplicity. Throughout history,

I believe the hyperconnected, consumeristic context we live in makes necessary the call to purge our calendars and possessions. The difference between self-help minimalism and the Christian discipline of simplicity is that the latter draws our newfound focus into a daily reliance on, and dialogue with, God. In The Soul of Desire, psychiatrist Dr. Curt Thompson writes, “To gaze on an object of beauty is to be present and look upon it on its terms, not our own.” Simplicity is a way for us to “gaze at God”.4 For some, minimization is a method to place focus on work and productivity.

For others, minimalism is a way to maximize control over life and the curveballs that are thrown at us. For Christians, the call to simplicity is the call to “gaze at God” and be present with Him in silence, in His Word, and with others in community. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus encourages His disciples and the crowds to “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,” while trusting God for provision.5 In this invitation, Jesus is calling us to focus our attention on His Kingdom of abundance not found in uber stocked grocery stores, nor even in schedules chockfull of time for meditation and reflection; but is instead cultivated in an abundance of daily obedience and surrender to His perfect will.

Edward Strickland. Minimalism: Origins. Indiana University Press, 2000.

Eugene Kim. “Here’s The Real Reason Mark Zuckerberg Wears The Same T-Shirt Every Day.” Business Insider, November 6, 2014.

3 “Packing Party: Unpack A Simpler Life.” The Minimalists, August 27, 2019. https://www.theminimalists.com/packing/.

4 Curt Thompson, The Soul of Desire: Discovering the Neuroscience of Longing, Beauty, and Community. Downers Grove, IL: IVP, an imprint of InterVarsity Press, 2021.

5 Matthew 6:33, ESV. Photography from Nate Diemer, https://natediemer.com.

1 2

issue four | 23

SHERPA, NATE DIEMER

CLAIRE HUCHTHAUSEN

all this day is longing to be reunited with paradise you can see it in the way the trees hold their leaves to the sun the day is robin-laden the sky is rushing with birds the LORD made the heavens and the LORD made this day running over with birds falling in the hands of the leaves

Noelle Lee Mindspace, 2022 Oil on canvas

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RAED GILLIAM

“It was just a dandelion, and half withered - but it was full face to the sun, and had caught into its heart all the glory it could hold, and was shining so radiantly that the dew that lay on it still made a perfect aureole round its head. And it seemed to talk, standing there - to talk about the possibility of making the very best of these lives of ours.”1

L

ilias Trotter. A name you probably haven’t heard.

These words come from a pamphlet she wrote that inspired the hymnist Helen Lemmel to pen a hymn you might have heard and maybe even sung a few times, “Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus.” Trotter died in El Biar, Algiers, in 1928, nearly forty years from when she’d first arrived. Turned down by the North African Mission due to poor health, she went anyway.

This same Lilias Trotter was also a prodigiously talented painter. John Ruskin–the single most influential art critic and the greatest polymath of Victorian society — said that if she committed her life to pursuing art, “she would be the greatest living painter and do things that were immortal.” In an 1883 Oxford lecture, he shared how, “for a long time I used to say, in all my elementary books, that except in a graceful and minor way, women could not draw or paint. I’m beginning to bow myself to the much more delightful conviction that no one else can.”2 Trotter’s talent is what transformed Ruskin’s prejudice into total admiration. With Ruskin, Mr.

British High Society Central, as a patron, she would have been unstoppable. Instead, she gave herself fully to ministry — beginning with marginalized prostitutes in London, and eventually, as a missionary to Algeria.

When I first heard this story, the summer after my first year, I was inspired and challenged. As college unfolded, and I grew in my love for and practice of filmmaking, some confusion seeped in. Is Trotter’s pivot away from success in the arts towards a mission-driven life always the right answer? How do our passions and careers fit in with following Jesus?

Let’s see what this artist-missionary — who chose total obscurity over an artistic path and opportunity most of us could never even dream of — has to say about a question that is at the root of everything we ever do: “How do we make the very best of these lives of ours?”1 She starts her pamphlet with the metaphor of the “halfwithered dandelion” standing “full face to the sun.” As issue four | 29

Christians, we are to live “gathered up, focussed lives, intent on one aim - Christ - these are the lives on which God can concentrate blessedness.”1 “Okay, great,” you might say to yourself. If you’re like me, you probably imagine shiny golden rays of light coming down from Heaven. Trotter knows these words are a little abstract and literally flowery, so she turns to science. She mentions “the telephone and the wireless in the realm of sound, the use of radium and the ultra-violet rays in the realm of light” as examples of scientific fields where currents and waves need to be harnessed and focused so that they can be of any use at all. The scientific metaphor on which she spends the most time is the optical “working of any lens - microscope, telescope, camera” which, naturally, speaks to the filmmaker in me. “Look at the window bars, and the beyond is only a shadow; look through at the distance, and it is the bars that turn into ghosts,” she writes, which is a beautifully Gothic description of a rack focus (a visual technique used in many movies, where the camera shifts its focus from the background to the foreground, or vice-versa).1 She calls this “the power of concentration.”1 Everyone would agree that what someone focuses on has a big impact on their vision: how they see their life, purpose, and place in the world. We have the power to choose: we can be focused or unfocused, and we can decide what to focus on. We can be outwardly-focused, towards some greater cause that transcends us, or inwardly-focused, on things that will further our own success. When Jesus calls His disciples in the gospels, he says “Follow me.” They instantly drop what they are doing and devote every day of the next three years observing, learning from, and walking with Jesus. This is what Trotter did, too. She made clear that Christ was her treasure, heeding His advice: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”3

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Your heart: your thoughts, your ambitions, and your will are all subject to what you desire most, or as George MacDonald writes in his Unspoken Sermons, “What is with the treasure must fare as the treasure; the heart which haunts the treasure-house where the moth and rust corrupt, will be exposed to the same ravages as the treasure, will itself be rusted and moth-eaten.”

Following Christ comes with resistance. Satan, our Enemy, fears the concentrated Christian, and he will “turn all his energies to bring in side-interests that will shatter the gathering intensity.” She could be speaking to our media-saturated, short-attention-spanned, and easily distracted age when she writes that “never has it been so easy to live in half a dozen good harmless worlds at once,” between which “we run the risk of drifting about, the ‘good’ hiding the ‘best.’ ”1 It’s uncomfortable to see our interests, hobbies, and the random perfectly fine and harmless things we spend so much of our time thinking about as tools of the Enemy, isn’t it?

Trotter gives us a “focus test” to help us discern where our focus really is. Where does your mind go when you wake up? Where does it “swing back”1 when you’re winding down at the end of the day? I’m a bit of a daydreamer, a little sporadic in my work, and definitely prone to a good mental wander. This question cuts me with conviction, because it reveals my often unfocused approach to life. Sometimes, you’re just too tired to go to God, right? Well, yes, especially if I treat God like a religious duty rather than the Rest and Refreshment my soul was made for. Jesus says, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest”.5 Anticipating our ifs and buts, Trotter continues in her pamphlet: “Will it not make life narrow, this focussing?”1 Will this focus not get in the way of other things I love and want to pursue; of other perfectly harmless identities I want to live out of and cultivate? Well, in one sense, yes. “Narrow as Christ’s life was narrow: this is our aim; narrow as regards self-seeking, broad as the love of God to all around. Is there anything to fear in that?”1 Deep in my spirit, I know her words to be true.

Through my own mistakes and my own vain living, I know that a life of self-oriented ambition is ultimately empty, that scatteredness and unfocused living stifles and stunts the growth of the inner man.

Will this focus not get in the way of other things I love and want to pursue; of other perfectly harmless identities I want to live out of and cultivate?

Narrowness is not the same as rigid limitations; in some ways it’s quite the opposite. Our life’s purpose narrows “just as the mountain path grows narrower, for it matters more and more, the higher we go, where we set our feet — but there is always, as it narrows, a wider and wider outlook, and purer, cleaner air.”

No one would call a Rocky Mountains summit view, with its expanse of endless ridges and overwhelming sensory power, a “limited” or “boring” sight; and no one who is serious about climbing would complain about the steep, narrowing trail; steepness is the price of summiting. It’s in this narrowing that our lives can become a more effective channel for God’s power — “like the burning glass that gathers the ray into an intensity that will kindle fire.”1 It’s in this narrowing that I am both able to have a clearer, more focused vision of Reality, and am more capable of being used

by God for his eternal, glorious purposes! That is a grander, far more epic goal than any comparatively tiny, inconsequential, easily forgettable achievement I could ever gain for myself in this life.

made that has been made” (John 1:3 NIV )–the more my own small, narrow, darkened imagination opens up to the True Nature of things. The rich abundance of creation, the vast reaches of the cosmos, the great operatic cycles of history, and the most intimate depths of a human soul are all His domain. In focusing my imagination on Him, I am free to seek, discover, sense, and perceive the Truth in all things, because my gaze is fixed on the Author and the Artist behind it all.

“Turn full your soul’s vision to Jesus, and look and look at Him, and a strange dimness will come over all that is apart from Him,” in the light of His glory and grace.

Lilias Trotter, “Focussed: A Story + a Song,” Unveiling, https://unveiling.org/lily/focussed.html.

2 “Lilias Trotter: Divine Aspirations”, The Conservation Center, http://www.theconservationcenter.com/articles/liliastrotterdivineaspirations 3 Matthew 6:19-21, NIV. 4 George MacDonald, “The Heart with the Treasure,” in Unspoken Sermons, Johannesen, 1999, p.81.

5 Matthew 11:28, NLT. 1

How do you and I accomplish this focusing? “Not by looking at the things to be dropped,” Trotter writes, “but by looking at the one point that is to be brought out.”1 As I look out towards an unknown, post-college future, I see a new landscape open up before me; wider, full of limitless possibilities. I realize that the more I look to Christ–the Incarnate God of the Universe in a body that could eat and drink and break and die, through whom “all things were made; without him nothing was

issue four | 31

PHILIP RUBIO

T

he journey of finding an internship, job or essentially anything related to what we do after college often feels like a treacherous swamp expedition. We trudge through the dark, murky waters of recruiting, not fully knowing what surrounds us, fearing the unknown. With each step, we risk mistakes, failure, rejection, and ultimately, plunging into despair.

Still, we meticulously plan for it: preparing our resume, updating our LinkedIn profile, endlessly editing our cover letters. We try to prepare for everything — to plug all the holes in our own boats. We hope to emerge with that perfect opportunity, salary, and fully-planned post-grad life.

In all of our planning, we often, even subconsciously, cut out the source, provider, and inspirer of our own ideas, ambitions, and activities: God. College culture tells us, “If we don’t do it ourselves, who will?” As Christians, we can get lost in the idea of strong-willed independence, trying to “look put together” and appeal to the culture around us, rather than our Creator. We search for our purpose in this life, forgetting to consult God, our ultimate purpose. Trying to control our own calling is ultimately fruitless, but trusting God can free us from our fears and guide us toward discernment. To find security in these uncertain waters, we must first surrender our trust and hope in God’s plans for us.

Phrases like “Trust in God always” or “God has a plan for your life” may sound cliché by the time we reach this stage of life but they still hold Biblical truths. See Proverbs 3:5-6, which states: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”1 You may have heard this verse a thousand times but it says something powerful about how we are to perceive the holes that inevitably appear while we are wrestling to find our purpose and job. It says to “lean not on our own understanding.” However,

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PHOTO FROM NATE DIEMER

it does not say to neglect understanding and certainly does not say to “stand around and wait” for God to plop us into the right company or role. God gives us the ability to discern, process, and make decisions, so we should explore! We should intentionally search through the vast array of possibilities and opportunities to find something that meets our need to do purposeful work in the world that reflects God — this verse prompts us to lean not on merely our own mechanisms.

The posture of our hearts is called to obedience to the will of the Father during both our triumphs and failures as we learn how to serve Him in vocation. We should make an intentional effort to “submit to Him,” asking God to open or close the doors that career exploration reveals to us. When we encounter rejection or just have no clue where to go, we must remind ourselves that He sets the course in life and we simply follow.

He bears the load of “making our paths straight.” God uses our failures when seeking that internship or final round interview to keep us on His path for us. This posture of “trust in God always” is meant to lead us toward that path, not serve as “spiritual backup” to our own actions. This trust and submission that Proverbs calls us to is the cornerstone which no rejection, identity crisis, or feeling of imposter syndrome can destroy. It is the trailhead of the path that God is actively straightening for us as we begin to walk on it.

In order to follow God’s path for us, we must consider more deeply our spiritual gifts in concert with our technical skills and capabilities. This consideration not only opens us up to the many possibilities before us, but also aligns what we are searching for with what we are truly called to do. Often, when looking for career opportunities, we forget to consider our internal desires, tending toward what seems appealing to us from purely external factors like salary, others’ approval, or “prestige.” However, when we begin to ask ourselves questions like “Does this career let me serve others meaningfully?” instead of “Will this job impress my friends and family?” we naturally feel more excited to look for a career! Centering our attention on how God can use us in our work, rather than the burden of hoping that we are “qualified enough” for the jobs we

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pursue leads us to work that fulfills both our desires and God’s purpose for us. We must frame our career discernment in terms of the “gifts,” which may not be highlighted on our physical resumes but are displayed in the ordinary things we do in our communities and personal lives. These gifts, summarized in Romans 12:6-8, include encouragement, wisdom, teaching, and many more.2 If we evaluate the careers we explore by beginning with meditating on these gifts, we can participate in the work of Christ in our ordinary, everyday jobs.

This raises the question: how do we know which jobs and careers make the most of the gifts that God gives us? We must network, but not in the way you might think. Proverbs 15:22 says, “Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed.”3 We often feel alone in the hunt for a purposeful career, but our communities, be it Christian, academic, or connections on LinkedIn, provide us with “many advisors.” Each community can give us a glimpse into the kingdom of God and the abundance of opportunities we have to work toward that kingdom here on earth. Too often, however, networking in the professional world translates to us nagging Mr. ABC or Ms. XYZ to give us a job. This tactic usually fails and is counter to our call as Christians to deeply discern what we want to do with our lives vocationally, rather than grasping for straws at whoever and whatever will earn us a paycheck. The focus of networking should be sparking a relationship, not necessarily an interview.

While networking relationships can help us get into a role we are passionate about spiritually, the goal of our conversations should be to learn about both the job and the person that does it. I’ve found that beginning a conversation with “What’s your story?” opens a lane for the other person to share their entire path and include both the trials and discernments that guided them. It also allows you to see where your story may be similar to theirs in some ways and this resonance can encourage us to have hope rather than stressing about reaching certain milestones or “having it all figured out” during undergrad (trust me, many successful professionals today didn’t actually know what they were going to do by the end of second or third year of school). In addition to seeking this “counsel” on our

path to finding a potential career, this type of relational networking allows us as students to connect with others, and uses our desire for connection to display our faith through truly knowing and seeing others.

Finding a job, applying to an internship, or simply figuring out where to start, is a bit spiritually rattling.

It is human to plan everything out, stake out our prize opportunity and set our sights on it. It is also human to feel the opposite: lost, confused, and insufficient to reach the standards set by our college environment. Let us trust in the Lord’s “straight path” and know that our true “dream job” is working for His Kingdom, not for pleasure or security. Analyzing the work available to us from God’s perspective helps narrow our focus and allows God room to open the doors through which we are blessed to go with His purpose and clarity. We can also align our career exploration with real Christian community values by approaching the professional relationships we build with a posture of humble seeking, not taking what we want. In all of these wanderings down the mirky, sometimes confusing career path, we receive encouragement about God’s constant presence from Isaiah 43: “I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”4 God is truly with us as we seek our career, guiding us to the things our hearts desire while picking us up from moments of doubt, fear and rejection, all for the sake of His Kingdom and glory.

Proverbs 3:5-6, NIV. Romans 12:6-8, NIV. Proverbs 15:22, NIV. 4 Isaiah 43:19, NIV. 1 2 3

issue four | 35

#H| O bearings P TO FROM SOPHIE BURK

MADDIE MISLOCK

E

ach of us invariably wrestles with what it means to live well, and we are regularly presented with suggestions for such a lifestyle. One notion of a life well-lived is one brimming with happiness.

Adherents of this tenet seek to cultivate a life of pleasure. Some pursue wealth, fame, travel, leisure... the list is infinite. Another view of “the good life” reveals a certain moral commitment. In this case, to say that someone is living well is to recognize their virtue; such a person is deemed generous, loyal, integrous, honest, self-sacrificing, and charitable. They seek the happiness of others in addition to, or sometimes even in place of, their own.

For me, “the good life” is one spent outdoors; this ideal has felt nearest while working at summer camp.

My long days are spent belaying kids up the climbing tower, dancing around to silly songs, sharing meals with friends, and trekking through fields of wildflowers and paths that wind through the pines. Then comes the night, which is filled with free-flowing, meaningful conversations under the stars. Such a lifestyle’s constant excitement and minimal sleep are exhausting, and yet I feel more alive there than anywhere else. I have come to believe that abundance means dirty hands and sleeping in my hammock and laughing with friends around a

campfire and pouring out my time in service to others.

And while these are good things, I often elevate them as the greatest things. When adventure is my end-all be-all, the days I simply move from class to class feel unbearable and unfulfilling. This is especially true when I look at what my friends are doing: kayaking down the Colorado River, skiing in British Columbia, backpacking the Pacific Crest Trail, climbing in Utah.

I am presented with their adventures on social media, along with those of strangers who all seem to have vastly more interesting and exciting lives than my own. In my insatiable desire to feel complete, I look to friends who appear satisfied. I believe that once I obtain whatever they have, then I will be happy too. Such comparison feeds discontentment, but, more crucially, it reveals a greater reality of want. All of us feel the weight of inadequacy in some form or another, regardless of whether we believe that we don’t have enough, or aren’t doing enough, or simply aren’t enough. If we focus on what we want — but don’t have — we will look around and see only scarcity. When our standard of happiness depends on our circumstances, it will always fall short.

That’s the reality of living in an imperfect world.

Yet even in the face of inescapable dissatisfaction, we can still take heart. Living to the fullest isn’t about doing issue four | 37

more or getting more, but about seeing more clearly. It begins with training ourselves to notice what we have, instead of what we lack. We can find solace in noticing the good things in our lives and practicing gratitude.

But for all that, we cannot stop there. Choosing to look on the bright side is eventually insufficient in the face of larger (and harsher) realities. We are caught in an irreconcilable tension: in many ways our provision is greater than we recognize, and yet there remains a deep deficiency due to the brokenness that surrounds and assails us.

Tish Harrison Warren, priest and author of Prayer in the Night, recounts a season of suffering, doubt, and loss in her life. During one especially trying night in the hospital, she cried out the words of Compline, a liturgy for nighttime prayer. Somewhat surprised at the lines she had instinctively clung to, Warren describes the prayer as a way of entering into the mystery, power, and goodness of God. She writes, “it was this practice that gave me words for my anxiety and grief and allowed me to reencounter doctrines of the church — the church’s claims about reality — not as rational, tidy little antidotes for pain but as a light in darkness, as good news.”2 The good news Warren speaks of is the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In John 10:10, Christ imparts: “I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” 2 Abundant life — or in some translations, “life to the full” — is not a delusion of happiness or ease during our time on earth. It is an assurance that one day, when we stand before His throne, we will experience life the way we were created to. We will know satisfaction and overflow in the fullness of God’s love and glory. The Lord promises us abundant life in communion with Him — and we can dwell in the joy of this steadfast hope even now, as Christ intercedes for us daily until He calls us home.

Warren, Tish Harrison. “Prayer in the Night.”

Tish Harrison Warren, 2022, https://tishharrisonwarren.com/prayer-in-the-night.

2 John 10:10, ESV. 1

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PHOTO FROM NATE DIEMER

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