The multi-colors of the fireworks displays that adorn the dark sky in the last night of a year are ways in which we celebrate all that has transpired before as we usher in a new year, a new season. To supplement this, many of us make and re-make lists of resolutions. It's interesting to me how one sided we may tend to be when such opportunities arise for us: we can either use them to reflect too much, if there's anything like that, or on the other hand, to want to do something without a thoughtful reflection.
I came across one post which seems to call for a balance between both. Certainly, such a balance between contemplation and practice is what I hope to bring with me in 2015, sorry, 2016. The post covers the story of the public unrest that racked Ukraine's capital last year. "Among the tumult were numerous priests" who were somehow displaying this balance by being the mediatorial voices between the public protesters and police. Such unrest could be said to have defined the past year: We remember the #PrayforParis which drew our attention to the bias that the world shows to the two-thirds world, amid a suffering humanity. Other issues of race, inequality in wealth distribution, corruption and poverty are still rife. Such suffering for me was very personalized as I lost my brother and I tried to find solace in this period. Thankfully, the hedge of caring friends protected us from caving in.
Sometimes the fireworks may take lightly the reality of such occurrences by focusing rather unreflectively only on the feel-good side. The hedonism of our culture of course gives good reason for focusing on the good only. On the other hand, the Jewish practise of the new year, rosh hashanah, captures more vividly a life-centered approach. To allay any fears that I know any Hebrew, I borrowed that phrase from a theologian's book I'm currently reading. In his book, I learnt that the Jews see the new year as a period where they realize the fleeting nature of life, and in facing death then they introspect on ways they can have more of life. They mainly do this through a reflection on their last year and what wasn't in line with the heart of their Law.
Law and heart, somehow here preludes to a surprising paradox. Christians sometimes have a "cheesy" way of looking at Law. But through it, God defines His perfect character which cannot change. Given in grace, it points us to our need of Him. With such a Jewish understanding, I realize the fleeting nature of life especially in the light of losing my brother in the past year. Yet, I also see how God has uplifted me in various other ways: I found meaningful work, I graduated from grad school and prospects of beginning a marriage now seem clearer. To know the fleeting nature of life reminds me that I need God's wisdom. That even as I enumerate things to do, I realize that I need wisdom to know what my priorities are. Certainly, both contemplation and action are equally crucial for me. Faith with action is real faith. I'm hoping that as I act, I can also rest in God this year, in the face of all the lined up plans.
I pray the same for you.
Shalom.
I came across one post which seems to call for a balance between both. Certainly, such a balance between contemplation and practice is what I hope to bring with me in 2015, sorry, 2016. The post covers the story of the public unrest that racked Ukraine's capital last year. "Among the tumult were numerous priests" who were somehow displaying this balance by being the mediatorial voices between the public protesters and police. Such unrest could be said to have defined the past year: We remember the #PrayforParis which drew our attention to the bias that the world shows to the two-thirds world, amid a suffering humanity. Other issues of race, inequality in wealth distribution, corruption and poverty are still rife. Such suffering for me was very personalized as I lost my brother and I tried to find solace in this period. Thankfully, the hedge of caring friends protected us from caving in.
Sometimes the fireworks may take lightly the reality of such occurrences by focusing rather unreflectively only on the feel-good side. The hedonism of our culture of course gives good reason for focusing on the good only. On the other hand, the Jewish practise of the new year, rosh hashanah, captures more vividly a life-centered approach. To allay any fears that I know any Hebrew, I borrowed that phrase from a theologian's book I'm currently reading. In his book, I learnt that the Jews see the new year as a period where they realize the fleeting nature of life, and in facing death then they introspect on ways they can have more of life. They mainly do this through a reflection on their last year and what wasn't in line with the heart of their Law.
Law and heart, somehow here preludes to a surprising paradox. Christians sometimes have a "cheesy" way of looking at Law. But through it, God defines His perfect character which cannot change. Given in grace, it points us to our need of Him. With such a Jewish understanding, I realize the fleeting nature of life especially in the light of losing my brother in the past year. Yet, I also see how God has uplifted me in various other ways: I found meaningful work, I graduated from grad school and prospects of beginning a marriage now seem clearer. To know the fleeting nature of life reminds me that I need God's wisdom. That even as I enumerate things to do, I realize that I need wisdom to know what my priorities are. Certainly, both contemplation and action are equally crucial for me. Faith with action is real faith. I'm hoping that as I act, I can also rest in God this year, in the face of all the lined up plans.
I pray the same for you.
Shalom.
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