Thursday, March 8, 2012

Who I am and who I was called to be...

A good friend had a wise word today--that who I am is enough and that the focus should be upon whose I am and knowing that I'm loved.


This, my friends, may be true but is no easy feat.  Meetings, writing, demands on energy from family, work and even within the church can be a difficult balance and all the while it's about the tension between academia and being a person of faith.  Kathleen Norris, in addressing a college community last year, explained the friction this way:


I’ve heard Benedictine men and women, scholars who are members of the American Academy of Religion talk about their reluctance to discuss their life of faith in an academic setting, even with their own students. But at least they’re monastics, kind of exotic: pity the ordinary, garden-variety Christian! 
The writer Patricia Hampl once said that when other professors discovered she was a practicing Catholic, their estimation of her IQ took a noticeable drop. A few years ago, I was at a reception after a talk I’d presented, and became aware that my co-sponsors, the literature and religion faculties, were in a marriage of convenience that made both groups ill-at-ease. During one conversation, a professor said, “Sometimes I think it would be good to do away with all religions.” It had been a very long day for me, or I probably wouldn’t have replied so starkly; but I said, “You know, Joseph Stalin and Pol Pot tried that, and it didn’t work out so well.” I’m convinced that having some historical grounding, and some sense of how religious traditions have functioned in human history, for both good and ill, is essential to understanding how they might shape our own vocation, a life of hope and meaning.  

To be doing this project at a secular university is both the best and worst of both worlds.  It is geared towards a wider audience, centered on human development, bioecological theory and a particular time in history.  It also (attempts to) present religion as important and truth-bearing, though this hasn't always been understood, I think, even by those at the University. This is the most difficult part to me--to attempt justification of this study to my community of faith (as something more than just my thoughts) and to a university (to many, it's simply another phenomena).  

To me, it's a defining piece of who I am and why I am writing this dissertation--to acknowledge that faith and prayer are alive in my generation, and not just among those who tow a particular political line.  This is a prayer whispered that faith and intelligence do not have to be separated.  As Norris states the Benedictine monks told her, "sometimes writing IS your prayer."  It's what connects me to texts that are thousands of years old and draws me into a conversation between millions of people over time.  It's why Norris, L'Engle, Leopold Weiss, Dr. Hamid, C.S. Lewis and other voices I run across seem to speak in harmony, despite coming out of different faiths and different times in history.  
Leopold Weiss (later known as Muhammad Asad), in his journey from Judaism to Islam, states in a bold revelation: " It was at this moment that I became aware how near their God and their faith were to these people. Their prayer did not seem to be divorced from their working day; it was part of it ñ not meant to help them forget life, but to remember it better by remembering God."

I guess, in many ways, this answers my earlier question about being Alyosha or Ivan.  I'm called--as are others-- to be BOTH, or at least not see the intellectual working portion of myself as separate from the praying, faithful (often frazzled mom) and loving child of God.  

This ability to weave faith and thought together, I believe, is what I was meant to share.  It's what all four of my "core" participants do so well, and what some of the community members have done as well.  If I can do this, well, it is enough.  My work IS enough and I don't have to feel like my analysis isn't quantitative enough or "churchy" enough.  It is what I was called to do and I can simply hope that the prayer that flows from my fingers is as beautiful, awe-filled, hopeful and loving as it sounds in my head. 

May we all be one in the bonds of love...and for heaven's sake, may I move forward with the analysis phase (being stuck inside my own head isn't much fun of late). 

References
Asad, Muhammad () "The Road to Mecca."  Adaptation from Islamland (a PDF gifted from one of my participants).

Norris, Kathleen (2011, March).  "Shaping a life that matters."  NETvue Conference, Indianapolis, IN.

Weiss, Leopold

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