Whereon he thought of himself in balance

"I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see." ~John Burroughs

Finding balance is something people obsess over, particularly this time of year. Every television spot, magazine spread, or newspaper article on holiday plans mentions the need to attain balance. Usually, balance is to come from paring down one's to-do list, taking half an hour to oneself every day, saying no to a few things, etc. Lately I have been wondering about balance and faith.

It seems that being a faithful person adds a whole new dimension in need of balancing to one's life. If a person wants to live in accordance with her/his faith and not totally remove her/himself from the world, s/he has a major juggling act to perform. For example, Jesus tells us that we don't know the day or the hour of his return and that we need to keep a constant watch lest we be caught unprepared. How do I balance that spiritual preparation with the likelihood that I have many years of life left to me? Is it just fear that keeps me from, say, donating all I have to the poor rather than setting up a retirement account? Is what I call "being practical" really a lack of faith in God to provide for my needs?

Then there's the question of how to balance the earthly with the spiritual (something Charlie brings up in the comment to my last post). How far into "the world" can I go while still keeping my faith? Obviously, some people would answer, "Not at all." But outside of ultra-orthodox communities, the question of balance comes up again. How much does the music to which I listen, the non-Christian friends with whom I hang out, the books and magazines I read, etc. influence me? How "in the world" can I be before I am "of the world"?

Then there's Christ's call to be generous and giving. How do I balance that with self-protection--and is self-protection a necessity or a hindrance to living a Godly life? Can I deny my fellow human something because they're taking advantage of me or is such a denial a judgment I am neither called nor qualified to make? Are we really called to give everything? Is it selfish not to? I know we have to keep enough of ourselves back to ensure that we don't hit burnout (rendering us useless to anyone), but where is the line between preventing burnout and placing ourselves in Slot Number One?

Finally, acts of faith require balance. Do I choose to read my Advent devotional or make dinner with my roommate? Do I go to the midweek church service or curl in bed with a good book? Do I pick up an extra Bible study or work a holiday for a friend?

Choosing to live a faithful life while simultaneously living a secular life ensures gray areas aplenty to ponder, and a balancing act that would put any tightrope walker to shame. I know intention matters a great deal, but I am often envious of people in religious communities (like the Amish, Hasidic Jews, even sequestered nuns and monks) because it seems to me that it would be easier to live a life based on faith if you were not also trying to plan for retirement, hold down a job, maintain friendships with non-faithful people, etc. Though I know living in such a community would, I'm certain, present it's own faith issues, I often long for the ease of knowing that everyone and everything around you had the same desire of living a faithful, God-oriented life.

The hundreth sheep

Today at work someone announced her intentions to avoid watching a particular movie because its creator is an atheist. Not because something about the movie itself offended her specifically or went completely against her sensibilities (not even because the movie held no interest or was a shoddy piece of art). Simply because its maker doesn't follow her religion. I kept to myself the observation that if Christians avoided everything that came from a non-Christian, we'd be left pretty high and dry. But the "incident" (which I put in quotes because it was really more of a passing comment than a major deal) really had me thinking about the requirements God makes of us.

It seems so many people are deeply focused on living a detail-oriented Christian life. They listen to Christian music, avoid certain movies, don't drink, don't swear, don't smoke, memorize Bible verses, and protest for the right of Macy's to wish patrons a "Merry Christmas". But such a focus on details often, I think, detracts from living a truly Christian life. Attempting to be pure and blameless in all your actions has a tendency to make a person feel superior to the "heathens" who, say, smoke. And spending so much time and effort on these details pulls us away from the big picture, from seeing the homeless or hungry, from being kind and welcoming to everyone who cross our paths, from truly empathizing with those who don't follow the riles as well as we do.

There's nothing wrong with avoiding alcohol or listening to Christian music. But there is something wrong when that becomes your faith. It limits Jesus, making him some sort of cosmic enforcer of rules, a heavenly Hall Monitor. It also places way too much emphasis on our own powers of salvation: if we do everything right and follow all the rules, we will be saved, but if we slip up and break the rules, we will be damned. There's no room left for being the one-hundreth sheep, the sinner rejoiced over in Heaven.

Not to mention that there's no room left for some really cool movies.