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On Re-Learning the Beautiful Art of Friendship

The rather wonderful Stephen Fry upset the internets by telling Irish television host Gay Byrne what Stephen Fry would say to God when they eventually met up.

How dare you! How dare you create a world in which there is such suffering that is not our fault? It’s not right; it’s utterly, utterly evil. Why should I respect a capricious, mean-minded, stupid god, who creates a world which is so full of injustice and pain?”

Because the God who created this universe, if it was created by a god, is quite clearly a maniac, an utter maniac, totally selfish.

He is monstrous, utterly monstrous, and deserves no respect whatsoever.

* * *

Yup, Stephen Fry intends to give God a hard time (and I rather hope God would be merciful and perhaps amused enough not to give Stephen Fry a hard time in turn).

What about Jesus? Would Stephen Fry give Jesus a hard time? Would he dare to? I doubt it. Few people are offended by Jesus.

* * *

Most people love Jesus for his kindness; from my childhood, however, I have wistfully respected his cleverness. The way he got out of the traps laid for him by the scribes and Pharisees. I sometimes realised that fellow students, teachers, nuns or relatives were trying to trap me with their questions (and often did not!), but was rarely quick-thinking, poised, self-confident, or forthright enough to sidestep traps the way Jesus did.

And Jesus impressively summarised monumental ideas in a “tweet“. A sentence. He summed up the law and the prophets (about 622,000 words: 2500 pages in a standard paperback!!) in a sentence–three imperatives. Love God. Love yourself. Love your neighbour.

* * *

Loving yourself. We hear far less of that than of loving God or loving our neighbour.

It certainly wasn’t taught when I grew up in India in the sixties.

What is loving oneself? Caring for ourselves the way we care for our toddlers. Resting when we need to rest. Giving our bodies and minds the foods we need to perform optimally. Not running on empty spiritually, but refilling in God’s presence. Feeding our hearts with good relationships. Forgiving ourselves for our shortcomings and mistakes. Cutting ourselves slack.

Perhaps this radical self-forgiveness makes it easier to forgive others. Perhaps cutting yourself slack makes it easier to cut others slack.

* * *

I went through my entire Facebook today, following some people, unfollowing others. (I periodically do this, thereby giving myself an entirely different newsfeed!)

People who’ve had a near-death experience say their entire life flashed before them. Well, my entire life flashed before me as I looked at every face on my Facebook friends list.

I saw many lovely faces from my past…from primary school and boarding school, from my university days in England and America, from churches in England and America, from writing, from the school gates, former neighbours… Friendships which have endured.

I am more of an extrovert than an introvert. I feel a lot of warmth and affection towards people. I love hanging out with people. I love friendships. But, alas, I am a bit of a classic A type personality, with high expectations of myself and others. Instead of cutting people slack, I can get really annoyed by what is really annoying about them. I sometimes get so annoyed that I basically sever a friendship.

I scroll through my Facebook friends, and see the faces of former real heart-friends, BFF’s who are now just Facebook friends.

And “stalking” these friends’ pages, I see faces of other people I had been good friends with, but had got annoyed with (sometimes for good reason), fallen out with, and am now no longer friends with, at all.

Some faces: so sweet, so full of light. And seeing those faces, I see I had been too harsh, too negative in my judgments, too focused on their very real weaknesses, instead of the very real goodness and light and sweetness in them.

I am sad.

The wonderful Serenity Prayer asks for strength to accept the things we cannot change. To take this sinful world as it is, not as we would have it. There is a lot of wisdom to doing the same with people.

* * *

When I went to St. Mary’s Convent, Nainital, a hill station boarding school in the Himalayas, aged nine, my father, who had himself been sent to a hill station boarding school, Montfort School, Yercaud, aged 6, advised me, “If you find someone really irritating, ignore them. Stop talking to them. But don’t do that too often, or you’ll soon have no one to talk to.”

I obviously hadn’t considered such a course of action, but it became my survival strategy for decades.

Jesus tuned out the scribes and Pharisees and the hypocrites. I have done that erstwhile friends I have got annoyed with instead of talking things through. Instead of learning how to gently confront.

But no more. I will talk things through. I will relate as an adult, vulnerably sharing what is bugging me, instead of relating as the petulant nine year old who solved relational problems by severing the relationship. I will cut people slack, and instead of expecting perfection will ride through the troughs in friendships, the revelation of the shadow side of my friends, just as I would like them to blow off revelations of the shadow side of me with the breath of kindness.

* * *

Michael Hyatt contrasts a successful friend of his with a writer client who craved success which eluded him (and was, incidentally, not brilliant at relationships.)

That success eluded that writer is not surprising. Creativity thrives in a environment of connections and relationships, as Jonah Lehrer observed in Imagine. People are healthier when they enjoy what Dr. Dean Ornish calls “the healing power of social support.” Bowling Alone estimates that each friendship is worth $1000 through the connections, tips, insights and information it opens up. People who enjoy wide, deep and rich friendships are happier, wealthier and healthier!

Because of the mysterious, undeserved grace of God, my life is indeed rich, full, happy and creative. However, it would have been richer, fuller, happier, and more creative, if I had grappled every friend I’ve ever made to my heart with hoops of steel.

* * *

But we can change. We can change at any time. That is the exciting thing about being a Christian.

The friendships I have invested in, I will invest in maintaining.

Change in mid-life? Yup!

* * *

How do we change?

The Greek New Testament word for repentance is metanoia, “to come to your senses; to come to your right mind; to intelligently understand.” We realise that Jesus taught theology in relationship, that Jesus, in effect, behaved as if relationships, vertical and horizontal, were what life was all about; that the core of a happy, successful life was love–loving relationships, kindness, affection. We decide to re-learn the beautiful art of friendship.

But, of course, since perhaps 90% of our psychological, emotional and spiritual life goes on in the dark subconscious realm of imprinted repressed memories, damaged emotions and Pavlovian reactions, changing is more complex than simply deciding to change.

But we have other resources.

We ask for help from above; we ask God to change our hearts. We claim the promise in Ezekiel: I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh (Ez. 36:26). Wow, God changing the deep structure of our hearts, molecule by molecule. (I have experienced this, this slow subliminal change of my heart through the action of God’s spirit within me–so I know it’s true.)

And then we rely on the filling of the Spirit, the Spirit producing fruit within us that we cannot produce ourselves: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, as Paul writes in Galatians.

And so we row on into a happier future, having learned from our mistakes. Row into, possibly, a richer, happier future, than if we had not messed up, analysed our mistakes, repented, and decided to, with God’s help, change.

Poor Me and Amazing Me: Which Narrative is Yours?

By Anita Mathias

Sometimes, going through my Facebook newsfeed, I see two narratives: Poor Me and Amazing Me.

Poor Me status updates are largely negative: ill-health, the misadventures of children, looming deadlines, crushing work loads, exhaustion, the intransigence of schools, employers, medical services; the inadequacy of tax-payer money funnelled towards their needs, the anguish of the entitled!

And then, there are Amazing Me status updates. Amazing Me won a prize; travelled to Antarctica; conjured up this gourmet creation; pulled off this domestic Goddess feat; moved mountains today, oh Amazing Me!

* * *

We started playing these roles in our childhoods. In my childhood, Poor Me would have met with no sympathy. I would have been scolded for whatever led to my Poor Me plight. Why did you allow yourself to gain weight? Get sick? Get writers’ block? Fail? Go, do something about it. Run a mile. Eat vegetables. Write a page.

And I too get impatient with Poor Me, and come up with solutions. (Though I am silent, and my tears flow freely when there are no solutions: an incurable illness like motor neurone disease; an inoperable tumour, or the sudden death of a loved one.)

Amazing Me was the script I was expected to follow in childhood. Amazing me, always winning prizes; Amazing Me, dazzling my teachers; Amazing Me, achieving, achieving, achieving.

* * *

Poor Me and Amazing Me have this in common. They are both symptoms of emptiness. They both want something from other people. Poor Me wants attention—and sympathy. Amazing Me wants attention–and praise. Both their cups are half-empty, the one who proclaims the emptiness of her cup, and the one who declares her cup runneth over, but still wants affirmation from other people.

* * *

In middle age, I am less interested in old scripts. I am not interested in Poor Me. When people Poor You me, I hate it. I want to shake off their sympathy, which feels like a clog on my feet (though in the case of tragedy I can do nothing about, yeah, I will accept sympathy, and cry on your shoulder–if I can).

And when I tend to Amazing Me, on the days I am smart, I remind myself of the eternal fountain always flowing, flowing to fill my empty places.

(credit)

And I tell myself, “Anita, you are indeed Amazing Me because you are a child of God. You are Amazing Me because you can climb into his lap and lean on his shoulder. You are Amazing Me because he sings over you; you are Amazing Me because he protects you; you are Amazing Me because no matter what goes wrong, he comforts you.

You are Amazing Me because when you blow it, he puts his arms around you, and blows his spirit into you, fills you with the water of the Holy Spirit to overflowing. You are Amazing Me because he patches you together again, and you are as good as new. You are Amazing Me because he will take you to places you never dreamed you’ll go. You are Amazing Me because he loves you.

Thank you, Kelly, for hosting the first version of this!

In which I Resolve Not to Waste my Time or Passion on What Does Not Really Matter

By Anita Mathias

“A man sees an odd-shaped piece of animal skin on the ground in front of him. He lashes out at it with his foot, and sends it skimming across the open, grassy field on which he’s standing. As a direct consequence of this, several million people around the world experience intense feelings of joy or despair.”

The final of the World Cup, as described by the study guide to the Beatitudes we are studying in church

I read it, and prayed, “Lord, never let me squander my emotions and passion on what does not matter.”

* * *

Sports

As a graduate student in America, I watched the entire dorm transfixed by the Superbowl, Big Ten games, basketball or baseball. And here, in the UK, there’s Wimbledon, and the World Cup.

But, of course, unless you own one of the teams, or love a player, none of these things really matter. It’s just not worth getting intense about.

One may root for Murray, especially if you’re British because there’s an appealing underdog feel to him. However, he’s won far more money and plaudits than 99.99 % of humanity ever will, and does not need us to invest our emotions in his success.

Allowing yourself to closely follow or really care about sporting events, or about who wins an Oscar, or a Booker, or a television content is allowing yourself to care about what does not matter.

* * *

One of my daughters barely watches TV. One watches a few shows, despite my opposition: The Voice, The Apprentice and The Great British Bake-off among them.

“Child,” I say, “Don’t watch other people do stuff. Invest in your own life. Become amazing yourself.”

She: “But I don’t want to be amazing.”

Me: “Okay then, be amazingly happy. Excellence makes you happy. Doing interesting stuff makes you happy. Proceeding in the direction of your dreams makes you happy, and achieving your dreams makes you happy.”

“Invest your emotional energy in your own life; invest your time in things that matter.”

* * *

Novels

I am sorting out my books, giving away seven a week. When I come to novels, I ask myself it is worth investing hours of my life to read 300 pages of someone else’s imaginings. If it’s not well-written, no. If the plot and setting interest me, and the style is a delight, it’s a keeper.

But though I love the dream of fiction, I am increasingly choosing to read things that matter, that help me know God more, or live my life better, or that satisfy my intellectual curiosity.

Your time on earth is limited, so don’t waste it, Steve Jobs says in this brilliant video. Or to quote his fellow Reed College drop-out, Donald Miller “I believe the greatest trick of the devil is not to get us into some sort of evil but rather have us wasting time.”

* * *

Living Intentionally

As I grow older I am trying to live intentionally, not squandering time, energy or emotion on what does not matter.

Here are some of my practices:

1 I do not watch TV (except for my one addiction, blush, Downton Abbey🙂 No news. I scan the headlines online and read a few articles daily.

Like the Harvard-trained holistic physician Andrew Weil, I am convinced this is better for my mental and emotional health. He writes, “images and reports of violence, death and disaster can promote undesirable changes in mood and aggravate anxiety, sadness and depression, which in turn can have deleterious effects on physical health.”

Some of my friends get distressed and dragged down by the traumatic things they see on TV, while doing nothing about them, and of course, there’s not loads they can do. I am sure this daily exposure to traumatic, distressing or negative news, and the consequent learned helplessness seriously affects one’s shalom (and subjects of conversation).

Though I don’t have TV, I do watch documentaries on DVD, and love them. I love movies too, and probably watch at least 25 a year, carefully chosen!! Would like to watch 100 though!

Games

2 I don’t play computer games, and rarely play board games. The only computer game I have played is chess, and I found it addictive. I play board games with my family to relax, though I think conversation is better, but hey, they love board games. With people I rarely see, I refuse to play board games, preferring to relax with conversation. (Yeah, an old curmudgeon!)

Social Media

3 I have been horrified by what a black hole Facebook and Twitter can be. I am dealing with them by locking myself out of them with AntiSocial and RescueTime when I write or pray or read.

I am also decluttering my Facebook newsfeed. I only defriend if I find people’s comments embarrassing or objectionable or consistently negative, or if they overwhelm me. However, I am hiding those people whose posts annoy me because they are whiny or show-offy or present a false picture of their lives. Or if their posts are mainly negative or trivial.

Happiness is precious and time is short, and it’s insane allowing myself to get annoyed by what people post on Facebook if I can avoid seeing those posts!

I tell my daughter that she should hide posts from people she barely knows, or does not care about, or does not find interesting, so as to safeguard her time and ‘brain space”—and perhaps I will take my own advice, setting my timer, and editing my newsfeed five minutes at a time, every now and again. And, hopefully, I will end up with a Facebook which only consists of posts from people I really care about, or find interesting, as well as life-enhancing blogs.

My Twitter feed sadly has got unbelievably cluttered. It will take hours and hours to declutter, and I don’t know when I am going to do it. Eventually perhaps, I will create a single, or second, stream of life-enhancing tweeters!

I am growing acutely aware that my time and energy is limited, and time spent on Facebook or fooling around on Twitter is time stolen from reading and writing. So I am getting more serious about not wasting my time and emotional energy on what does not matter. Does not matter to me, or to the world, or to the Kingdom of God!

What are your black-holes of time? What are your practices for using time meaningfully?

Words in Social Media as Pearls, Stones, Swords and Life

By Anita Mathias

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it. (Matt 13:45)

And if you had one of those pearls, what would you do with it?

Here’s what you would not do: You would not “throw it to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.” (Matt 7:6)

Words as Pearls.

We each have our own orientation—politically and theologically, and tweets and arguments aren’t going to change it.

If you come across a position you strongly disagree with, consider if your words are likely to change the person’s mind. If not, conserve your time and energy.

When argued with, consider if your retort is likely to change the other person’s mind. If not, keep your time, energy and pearls, and let the other person have the last word.

(Sometimes, of course, one is called to challenge harmful theological or political positions—that subjugate women, that harm the poor, and then one needs to use one’s pen as a sword).

Words as Stones

Throw enough pebbles, long enough, and the victim dies, as in the ancient Mosaic death by stoning.

Words, flung at us like stones, can sap, hurt and damage our spirits, and without being precious about it, we need to protect ourselves.

That best way to deal with passive-aggressive frenemies on Facebook or blogs–you know, who mock and contradict and shoot down pretty much every idea or post is to block them. If you know them in real life, politely explain why. Sadly, on occasion, perceived or actual success can change “friends” to frenemies.

If random readers are rude or abusive to me on Facebook or Twitter or my blog, I instantly block them, which is like flinging an invisibility cloak over myself, and offers a measure of protection. Life is short, and some people need meds and shrinks, not blogs and twitter.

Words as Swords

Here is a mighty use of words: For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.

Wow! The only way we Christian writers might write words which are alive and active, speaking to soul and spirit, is to slow down enough to overhear God’s spirit.

But here’s the catch. Writers have sharpened their verbal instrument. And when you cross them, when they are very angry? There is the temptation to use words, not as spirit-empowered swords, but as weapons.

And that’s when words are a double-edged sword. You cannot damage or destroy someone else without being damaged in the process, even if the damage is just in your spirit, the most precious, and often least-valued part of a person. It’s measure for measure.

There are exceptions, of course, but it’s safest to only use words as swords after prayer and discussion with other Christians.

And what when your words as pearls are stolen?

Last week, I noticed a commentator on my blog had taken the idea, the tripartite division, the metaphor, structure, and some words and passed it off as her own work–on a site of Bible reflections, to add insult to injury. And it was the second time, this young woman had taken my insights, imagery and words from posts she’d commented on, developed them, and guest-posted them on larger sites, without attribution.

Me: “Jesus, do you see this? Do you see that comment, “It’s the most profound thing I’ve seen.” And look at her, just accepting the praise, as if she’d thought of the idea herself.”

Jesus, “Let her.”

Me, “It was my original thinking and living and writing. And instead of doing her own thinking, she’s passing off my insights and words as her own. That’s just lazy.”

Jesus, “Let her.”

Me, “Jesus, you are so pacific. You are of no help to a girl when it comes to plagiarism!”

And he, tenderly, “Anita, do you not think that I could even now give you twelve legions of blog ideas. My thoughts towards outnumber the grain of sands. Tune in. Listen to me for fresh ideas.”

And I relax, and I tune in to Jesus. Yes, “let her!” And I step into the waterfall of living waters, and let it course through my cantankerous soul, scouring it, cleansing it, filling it. And words of life begin to bubble up.

* * *

He is the Word. And his words are truth and life to my soul.

Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.

In Which I Decide to Forgive a Frenemy; For Nothing is as it Seems

By Anita Mathias

The view from my bedroom window: The fields and hills covered with hoar frost.

The snow fell over our Oxford garden and transformed it. I sometimes look at my garden, and think it’s getting rather scruffy, and resolve to get out with shears and secateurs come spring.

But then snow falls, and the garden, a little bit overgrown, much in need of a prune, is transformed. White, magical, still and quiet. Cobwebs, laced in frost, glisten.

Nothing is as it seemed yesterday.

Nothing is as it seems. That’s a great lessons my garden teaches me as it changes from season to season—bulbs burst from the barren ground come spring; there was rich life beneath the frozen year. The bare branches sing with blossom; where had that been hiding?

The earth suddenly turns rich green and bursts with flower and birdsong in summer. Then it morphs again, gold-vermilion, followed by winter, austere and stark.

‘You thought you knew me; think again. You thought you had me pegged; think again.” We can only understand a fraction of reality.

And we too shall be changed, just as our earth is. ^“Our bodies sown in dishonour, shall be raised in glory; sown in weakness, shall be raised in power. We will all be changed— in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and we will be changed.” (1 Cor. 15)

Beads of ice transform a spider’s web

Change, metamorphosis, metanoia, or changing one’s mind. Repentance. For me, these are magical words, full of hope and possibility.

Day by day, we can change the seeds we put into the soil of our lives, resisting negativity, and judgement and meanness, sowing instead mercy, and kindness. And what we sow we reap. And gradually, the very substance of our hearts changes. Because of the mercy of the gardener.

Icicles on the leaves of a contorted willow.

Nothing is as it seems. I wrote a harsh email earlier this week to an old frenemy I kind of like whom I first met 18 years, and who has been making a nuisance of himself on my Facebook page, and sometimes blog, leaving several negative, hostile, almost slanderous comments daily. Replying or deleting; replying or deleting: How time-consuming it all became.

Was it just envy, hostility, insecurity, sadness over his own failures? Relative success reveals whom your true friends are, just as relative failure or poverty. I blocked him, unblocked him at his request, and then when he was back with his undermining, hostile comments, reblocked him.

I wrote a harsh email explaining why (after being patient for months and months), sent it, and then a minute later, as many writers do, saw how I could have said the same thing in a dignified, restrained way in just two or three sentences. And without judgement.

His put-downs and contentious comments sure looked like envy and hostility and malice, but they may not have been. Some people are just nuts, high-functioning nuts perhaps, but nuts, not evil. “Do not judge,” Jesus said, for nothing is as it seems. As adults we can decide whom we want in our lives, and whom we’d rather block, but without withering character judgements as to whether they are mad, bad or merely sad.

I feel too ashamed to re-read that email. How will my friend, or frenemy feel? I felt dreadful.

Frost on a rose

Oh, there is only one place for such as I to retreat. To the fountain of forgiveness that falls, falls like blood, magic blood that turns its recipients as snow.

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
blot out my transgressions.
²Wash away all my iniquity
and cleanse me from my sin.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.

And so I return again to the cleansing fountains, to the love of Jesus at Calvary when he, inexplicably, heart-rendingly, offered his beautiful life as a payment in full for every sin of mine.

And the mercy from the Great Heart, the life-blood of that Great Heart pours over me, and I feel the sweetness of that great love, and I feel his love and acceptance, and I snuggle into the recesses of the Most High, and there am I safe.

Such forgiveness, for a cranky woman who blew it. Incredible. I am made new, forgiven, washed white as snow.

Ice fingers on the twigs of a contorted willow.

* * *

And I forgive the man whose been trolling my Facebook page so insistently.

And become Facebook friends again? Oh no! He was consistently judging my theology, my reading of the Bible (he has a mercilessly inerrantist reading) and my politics. The continuous contemptuous putdowns were very annoying. And being exposed to people’s judgements is bad, dangerous and harmful. Judgments can be a self-fulfilling prophecy, and being judged in a heavy weight to bear!! As we are not to judge, we are also not to expose ourselves, our ears, hearts or spirits to other people’s judgements. For nothing is as it seems. They too only see in part.

Envy is dangerous, and the leading, hostile questions he was asking me on my FB page were almost slanderous–“Do you support abortion for any and every reason,” (in response to my posting, without comment, a Guardian article on the medically unnecessary death of Savita Halappanavar)

Anyone who experiences increasing business success or career success will face putdowns and envy and snideness from old friends, acquaintances or frenemies whose own life has been disappointing. It’s a sad fact of life.

How do we deal with this? Do not boast. Certainly. Disguise your relative success? Perhaps. Drop them? In some instances, where is not much fondness in my heart for them, or vice-versa, and we still meet up out of old habit, this might be the best solution.

Iced rosehips

I love being a Christian adult. I do not have to act reflexively. I can act with wisdom, after consultation with my Lord. My forgiver.

“When such as I cast out remorse
So great a sweetness flows into the breast
We must laugh and we must sing,
We are blest by everything,
Everything we look upon is blest.”

William Butler Yeats

Frosted fennel in seed

How I am Navigating Facebook

By Anita Mathias

I started using Facebook last year, in 2009, when it was 4 years old. It’s an amazing success story, and I do love it for how it connects me to people from my past, from various phases and stages of my life.

It’s amazing–an amazing way to tap the zeitgeist, to find out what your social circle, or once and future circle of peers are eating, buying, thinking, reading, watching, dreaming. A good source of information.

I have 386 “friends.” Perhaps 12 of them are real “I’m honest with you/You’re honest with me;” “I know the true wrinkles and blemishes of your life, and vice-versa” friends.

Some are old enemies who have sent me “friend” requests a couple of times, until I said, “What the heck!”

If the thought of them reading my updates bothers me too much again, I’ll delete them.

Sometimes, you have “friends” who can be hostile. The tone of your posts annoys them, or they are annoyed with how your life has panned out compared to theirs. This hostility shows in their comments on your posts.

There are people like that in my daily life, whom I cannot delete at the touch of a button.

But here’s an old classmate who annoys me by hostile comments on my posts, or her comments on my comments on her posts, (which I am sure can also be snarky). I do not remember hating her, just indifference. Perhaps her reaction to me was stronger.

There are as many Facebooks as there are people. And I want my Facebook to be a source of mutual encouragement, inspiration, enlightenment, information, fun. A negativity-free zone.

I want my Facebook to be a positive, fun place. I hide those whose posts are consistently negative, or depressing, or vulgar.

And if they insist on commenting in a hostile way on my posts, I delete them. You are deleted, old classmate. Good riddance!

Amazing what can be done by pressing a button.

Would it were that easy to order the rest of my world.

But redemption is possible, for anyone.

Guess what I’ll do if that particular friend request resurfaces.