A sphere with a wooden center
Detachment. This is the word I remember from your last e-mail. I brought up detachment as a spiritual goal in a Bible study recently, and it was shot down by all but none. I suppose it does carry with it a negative connotation. 'That man is detached from his marriage'. Definitely a bad thing. 'When she heard her mother died she didn't even cry.' Not a healthy reaction. I suppose I can use detachment positively if I detach myself from things, especially if those things threaten to steal my time and energy. People are admired for detaching themselves from their material possessions, or even from the allure of their status. We sometimes even admire people who detach from the rest of humanity. But to detach from humans is quite a different thing. It is wrong to be indifferent to the those around us, so we need to learn how to regard them. Often I detach to protect myself from harm or unhealthy reliance on others. Protection of image (as if I had one to protect), protection of dignity, protection from irritation, I've found many reasons to detach, and I've become quite good at doing it. So good, in fact, that I sometimes can't quite reconnect after I've conducted a successful detachment party within myself. If I truly have reached within to 'unplug' whatever attachments I had in this life, perhaps I can return now and face the same people and situations, only with a different approach.
For years now I've watched my mom love the unlovable. She purposefully finds people who are struggling emotionally, financially, even physically and tries to help them out of their destructive cycles. She believes in the power of believing in another person. She believes that God's power can change another. When I'm with her, my hope and enthusiasm for that sort of change grows. Sometimes I think her involvement is misplaced, or even dangerous at times. But I would say the best 'Christian' conclusion is that most of her toiling produces unseen good effect. I respect and admire her for it. I, however, have detached myself from people like this. In my own pompous, arrogant way I have ignored (rejected) the lives of these broken people. She expects to see change in them. I don't. She believes they have the ability to love far beyond their current practices. I lower my eyes and pretend to hope.
The root of my detachment became clearer on the day I went for the job interview in Dayton at the church who was looking for a worship pastor. At the time I was wrestling with why God had never used me to lead another person into the Kingdom. Through most of my life as a believer it was a desire of mine to, not just pray a prayer of salvation with someone, but watch them go from a Godless life to a God-filled life, and then recognize it as a miracle from God. I wanted to see that so bad. It started with honest intentions of wanting people to be rescued from Hell. Sure, there was always the battle of, am I doing this for God's glory or for mine? But (logic from my theology at the time) if God really wants people into Heaven that bad, will my intentions matter that much? As I continued looking for people to share with, my mood become more laid back and I would strike up conversations with random people in the areas wherever I lived. Nothing special really, just looking for opportunities to ask pointed questions that would get people thinking. But even this, while a good exercise in the spreading of wisdom, was unsatisfactory and often met with a wall of misunderstanding. I began to detach myself from the situation I believed I was in, being, I am talking with people who are on a road to eternal condemnation and I can do nothing about it. They don't understand, nor do they care. Eradic displays of emotions would not inspire a change. I hoped that my music could penetrate those walls or create bridges. But what I discovered was that there was a fundamental difference between me and the people I was hoping to reach. I was seeing reality through the eyes of faith, and they were not. End of story. And instead of caring for those people, I chose to detach from them.
You can't argue someone into having faith. You just can't. No amount of persuasion, begging, or trickery will ever cause another person to believe.
God, don't You understand this? You can't just force someone to believe Your truth, even if you display it to them in all Your might and power. If other religions truly are shattered truth, and some good elements remain, shine them brightly to be embraced by Your anonymous children. But of course You, Who gave us the will to choose, understand. And You still have hope for those selfishly living in their own states of detachment, dead to themselves and to the world. As for me, I have ignored (rejected) them as hopeless cases of inverted self-love, not unlike myself. The difference between You and I is hope. Hope is involvement unto pain, toiling until the message is clear.
When the people I met didn't understand or accept Your Message as I explained it, I counted it as a personal failure. It was as if I didn't know You well enough to talk about You. Or maybe You were willing to introduce Yourself to me, but not to these other people. Because I remember when Your Truth shot through me. I remember being filled by Your Spirit. I can't remember if it was because of something I did or just because You chose to find me.
How it happened isn't important, what's important is that I learn from You, and teach this to those around me STARTING WITH THOSE CLOSEST TO ME.
Detachment is the first stage of rejection. Buddhism follows a similar idea. The Pain doesn't exist, because it is only in your mind. If you detach from those things which bring Pain, Pain will cease to exist. However, in doing so you will created a divide between yourself and the world around you, including your loved ones. When you cut off your loved ones, you also cut off the ones who love you. And if nobody loves you, you probably don't exist either.
Reconnecting,
Dave
