sweaty rage

My friend and I took a cab one night on our way home from a meeting and chatted about our teaching experiences. One of the things we brought up was the “secret well of rage” that always seems to surface when you’re in the classroom. It’s secret because you are unaware of its existence until you give your students directions, expect them to comply, and they don’t. And after this happens on a consistent basis, you go mad. Next thing you know, you’re yelling and sweating and stomping around and contemplating failing the entire class. My friend said “it’s that frustration of someone going against your will all the time.”

I thought out loud to my friend, “I wonder about God, then; having an entire world go against his will – even the ones who love him. We only deal with classrooms of 20 and our wills are imperfect. And I’m pretty sure the students don’t really like me anyway.”

Later, I thought about this planet and the lives that inhabit it. A place so filled with disobedience with so few examples of obedience. I thought about God being angry about this. I kept thinking: an angry God. I felt a little uncomfortable thinking of him this way. When I pray, I don’t say things like, “Thank you for being gracious and faithful and angry.” But then, why shouldn’t I be thankful that God gets angry at disobedience, at sin, at corruption? After all, Jesus was not sent on behalf of my obedience, but on behalf of my sin.

Ah, so there it is.

God is angry. But the remarkable and beautiful difference is in his complete and utter perfection. He is always, relentlessly aiming for redemption. It’s clear that he delights in working mercy and forgiveness for each person as we all share in the same disobedient nature (Proverbs 29:13 or Psalm 74:12 or I Samuel 2:6-8 – shocking!). God’s love and God’s anger are inextricable – maybe parents can understand this a little easier than others. I have clear definitions of love and anger, but I’m starting to rethink their accuracy. Frankly, I’m limited and flawed. Every perspective I have subsequently falls under those parameters. It’s unfortunate, but leaves me in a beautiful position. In I Corinthians, it says the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. If this is true, God’s anger and love are truly two constantly, often painfully misperceived things (but not wholly incomprehensible!).

A long time ago, Jesus walked through the temple and completely disrupted business by overturning tables and accusing people of stealing (which was true). The temple wasn’t built for conducting business and certainly not to cheat and deceive people. The temple was God’s home and Jesus wanted to restore it to its true state. I’m thankful that when Jesus walked through the temple he recognized – and was furious at – the disobedience flourishing there and immediately removed it and kept it removed*. I’m not often prone to welcome it, but I am thankful he does the same thing in me. And that he longs to do the same thing in every person.

Even after a couple weeks, I’m still thinking about this strange, redemptive angry-love of God’s. I’m fascinated by the perfection with which he executes it. I wonder how it would look if I had angry-love like his.

And then I find out no one has done their homework…




*Mark 11:15

christmas

Prologue: Mone told me she saw fake Christmas trees on sale for 600,000-800,000 tugruk which is around $550-$750. Real trees don’t even cost that much. Maybe a few feet of the Rockafeller Center tree…but not ones that can actually fit through your front door.

There are certain traditions kept by me at Christmas that this year I’ve had to pass over. They are quite childish so I’m a little embarrassed to document them publicly. But for the sake of the holiday, I’ll let you in on some of my favorites: 1. Often I will count each present under the tree and organize them according to size so the largest are in the back and the smallest are in the front. 2. If there happen to be siblings spending the night (now that we’re older and out of the house), it is my job to wake them up…early. Coffee has helped enormously in this area. 3. It is then our duty to stand at the end of the hallway leading to our parent’s room and count to three before breaking into a sprint, exploding through their door, and leaping onto their bed to wake them up with a good dose of Christmas spirit.

Now at 25, I will spend Christmas 13 hours ahead of my family, 5,000 miles away in Mongolia. So this got me thinking. And I have a confession to make: nothing I love about the Christmas season has to do with Jesus.

I don’t like writing that. I hate admitting it. But it’s true. So much of this season for me is wrapped up in the past and good memories and traditions. Jesus is actually quite absent from it all apart from Christmas Eve services. I live Christmas out in feelings and memories and traditions. Those things are not bad, but they are empty (which is hard to accept) in light of the incredible reality of Jesus’ birth.

I suppose around middle school something about Christmas changed. Middle school is such an awkward time for many reasons and it’s made worse because parts of you are still a kid but parts of you are growing up. The kid-parts of me still cherished the magic I found in Christmas. The growing up-parts of me suspected there was more to the holiday than the kid-parts of me clung to. There was a mish mash of feelings I didn’t know what to do with as an 11 year old so I just decided to do what was normal for me during the holiday – I reverted to silly habits and put all Christmas’ worth in a small box labeled ‘Xmas Decorations.’ I tried to convince myself that nothing changed and I could live quite happily in illusion.

But this year, my grown up-parts must have gotten sick of doing all that. Why settle for illusion, Alissa, when a grand miracle is staring at you from a baby’s face? God’s face.

I don’t know. I still love to bake cookies and listen to my Twisted Sister Christmas album and wrap presents and jump on my parent’s bed. Those things are still a very large part of Christmas for me. But they are not its purpose. And I have to learn how to celebrate Christmas in that reality.

So at 25, 13 hours ahead and 5,000 miles away, I’m unpacking the small box labeled ‘Xmas Decorations’ and following a star and seeking God’s face.