Reflections from The Plague

Ten days ago, my city implemented “Shelter in Place”. Preceded by daily, escalating efforts to encourage social distancing and self isolation—all in response to the COVID-19 pandemic—the new ordinance stirred in me mixed sentiments. With schools, churches, and most gathering places closed, I was initially relieved to have the opportunity to slow down and rest. I felt exhausted from the accelerating spiral of uncertainty and the barrages of [generally unproductive] speculation about the future. Yet it did not take long for me to feel the loss of physical human interaction. I am thankful that technology provides ample means to keep us connected, but nothing replaces actual presence.

Though flurries of anxiety threaten to bury collective hope, there is consolation in the prospect of our society recognizing and learning from the revelation of its frail frameworks, and adjusting accordingly.[1] In other words, the present not only offers an opportunity to reinforce hygiene,[2] but the space to reassess priorities at both an individual and communal scale.

As I began to reflect,[3] I found myself drawn to Albert Camus’ novel, The Plague.[4] His meditations provide important reminders for today, such as our need for awareness, change, and love if we are to navigate any crisis well.

Awareness

Self-awareness begins with acknowledging one’s limitations, especially what can or cannot be controlled. This kind of revelation elicits a spectrum of responses, alas too often finding root in fear. Fear spawns worry, and worry is contagious.

The definition of worry is to 1.) Feel or cause to feel anxious or troubled about actual or potential problems; or 2.) [with object] tear at or pull about with the teeth; or [no object] (worry at) Pull at or fiddle with repeatedly.[5]

Media tends to worry a subject, willfully or not, by feeding the masses with the same information over and over, packaging it as fresh content by merely adding a few updates and/or the perspective of some individual, qualified or not. Informing the public is the most valuable contribution of the press; however, not all information is beneficial, and not all sources are reliable. Content characterized by speculation—“The forming of a theory or conjecture without firm evidence”[6]—perpetuates worry. Therefore, we have a responsibility to be wise in what we consume and share with others.

In The Plague, Camus comments repeatedly on the danger of being inattentive and uninformed. He writes, "The evil that is in the world always comes from ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence, if they lack understanding.” Most of the devastation in history is arguably the result of intellectual negligence. While we are currently called to physically self-isolate, that does not mean we are to mentally self-isolate. The human mind is a gift. Moreover, this is not only about bolstering individual safety, but that of our communities: "[the plague] revealed itself as what it really was; that is, the concern of all". Camus warns that

"Stupidity has a knack of getting its way; as we should see if were not always so much wrapped up in our ourselves. In this respect our townsfolk were like everybody else, wrapped up in themselves; in other words they were humanists: they disbelieved in pestilence. A pestilence isn't a thing made to man's measure; therefore we tell ourselves that pestilence is a mere body of the mind, a bad dream that will pass away. But it doesn't always pass away and, from one bad dream to another, it is men who pass away, and the humanists first of all, because they haven't taken their precautions.”

For Camus, the pestilence may be less about a malady of the body than a chronic corruption of social consciousness and will. One of his characters, Tarrou, states, “each of us has the plague within him; no one, no one on earth is free from it. And I know, too, that we must keep endless watch on ourselves lest in a careless moment we breathe in somebody's face and fasten the infection on him. . . . The good man, the man who infects hardly anyone, is the man who has the fewest lapses of attention."

Change

A tragedy of this pandemic would be for nothing to change once it passes. There should be practical adjustments to our social structures,[7] to be sure; but equally important is that this crisis leads to a change of perspective both now and after “normalcy” is restored. I think of this when Tarrou comments, "At the beginning of a pestilence and when it ends, there's always a propensity for rhetoric. In the first case, habits have not yet been lost; in the second, they're returning. It is in the thick of a calamity that one gets hardened to the truth—in other words, to silence." It is not only about becoming accustomed to the reality of our present situation, and the measures needed to weather it, but to embrace the opportunities of the present, which, thankfully, many appear to be doing as it relates to engaging family and community with fresh vigor.

While some of Camus’ characters wrestle with the silence of God—a whole subject in itself,[8] which I will not delve into here, having considered it implicitly in “Is God Patient”—silence also provides an opportunity to distance oneself from all the worrisome clatter in order to reflect upon what is good. Change is good, even though sometimes uncomfortable; for comfort can lead to death—not only physically, but intellectually and creatively. It is tempting to disregard opportunities for change, yet the reality is that change is inevitable, whether embraced or not. Therefore, we should be wary of behaving "like all those others around [us] who believed, or made believe, that plague can come and go without changing anything in men's hearts."

Love

The greatest opportunity for growth or change rests in the shelter of love. It is mysterious, transcendent, and difficult to understand, but it is real. Without it, what are we? Camus writes, "Man is an idea, and a precious small idea, once he turns his back on love." Human love can be complicated and difficult[9], but the common decency inherent to it is "the only means of fighting a plague.”

A beautiful truth about love is that it cannot be contained within one definition or expression. It is living, manifest most tangibly through human interaction. Love reminds us of good, which can spark hope, "And indeed it could be said that once the faintest stirring of hope became possible, the dominion of the plague was ended.”

Love reveals the potential of mankind, while selfishness pulls our attention inward to a state of being blind and deaf to the truth. At the heart of The Plague, Camus is warning readers not so much about some biological danger, but a deeper spiritual decay. Against this, he reminds us that selfless acts inspire change, that hope can survive, and that at best "what we learn in a time of pestilence: that there are more things to admire in men than to despise."

May it be so for our world today. It is already happening if we look carefully.

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[1] For example, “Coronavirus: What this Crisis Reveals about US - and its President”, "Coronavirus: Things the US has got wrong - and got right", and "How the Pandemic Will End".

[2] Please wash your hands with soap.

[3] In part, re-examining the nature of doubt.

[4] La Peste, published in 1947.

[5] Oxford English Dictionary, Available at https://www.lexico.com/definition/worry (Accessed 24 March, 2020).

[6] Oxford English Dictionary, Available at https://www.lexico.com/definition/speculation (Accessed 24 March, 2020).

[7] Such as were implemented in airport security after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. Though such were not the first instances of plane hijackings, the degree of impact woke administrations up to the reality such is both real and costly. In a similar manner, coronavirus pandemics are not new (e.g. “Bat Coronaviruses in China” and "Coronavirus: Pangolins Found to Carry Related Strains"), but now forced to the forefront of social consciousness due to scale of impact. 

[8] Not dissimilar to Silence by Shūsaku Endō.

[9] For example, Rambert states, "if there is one thing one can always yearn for and sometimes attain, it is human love." Or read my reflections on relationships in “Why Marry Someone”, “When to Marry Someone”, and “The Marriage Idol”.

The Marriage Idol, Part 3

Reorienting Objectification

So what is “The Marriage Idol”?

In Part 1, I reframe the question with language of identity, with another question: What defines you? In Part 2, I define words like love, marriage, and idolatry, all which can help us understand the framework. The challenge of this, as with any complex subject, is to avoid oversimplification. Considering the diversity of the world, it is unavoidable to some extent. Nonetheless, I have invested time and space to unpack each major word and idea because each person frames them differently, even if only subtly so. Such is the frailty of identity; for each of us carries assumptions based on our personal history.

Subjectivity should not be feared, but rather recognized as a normal aspect of interacting as free-thinking human beings. While communicating from our various frameworks can be confounding, it can also be inspiring in the introduction to new ways of seeing. Without some awareness of our limitations, however, there is little room left in public discourse for compassion, peace, and unity—for an atmosphere of learning. By unity, I do not necessarily mean agreement, but rather a desire to understand before being understood, allowing each other space for our differences without filling that space with defensive barriers.

When focusing on the subject of marriage, therefore, each of our visions for marriage will vary based on the facets of our individual identities. Yet I have come to wonder if marriage is even the real subject here. Perhaps it is merely the façade of a deeper need (and potentially idol).

How is Marriage Advertised?

I suspect that the idea of marriage is idolized more than the actuality of marriage.

In 1759, the essayist Samuel Johnson said, “Promise, large promise, is the soul of an advertisement.”[1] So what does marriage promise? What images and/or ideas come to mind?

Think about it for a moment.

(Look away from this screen and draft your own initial conclusion.)

How one defines the promise of something reveals much of his or her identity. Communications professor Dr. Greg Spencer writes that “Advertising is successful because it links products with our identity. It defines the self in the context of a particular car or phone or style of vacation.” It can be quite subtle. For example, “the message is ‘Buy Extra gum,’ but the metamessage is ‘Extra gum is the way to romance.’” In other words, we are essentially “told two metamessages in almost every ad: ‘We are happy when we buy’ and ‘We are inadequate.’ . . . Advertising often convinces us that some nonmaterial good thing (love, success, happiness, etc.) can be acquired through material means (cars, beauty products, toilet paper). Coke means happiness. Dentyne gum promotes romance. Lingerie leads to sexual intimacy. Laundry soap leads to sexual intimacy. Computers, coffee, everything leads to sexual intimacy!”

Simply put, a marriage partner can be made into the “material means” for attaining a “nonmaterial good” like happiness, fulfillment, love, intimacy. While marriage can (and the healthy ones do) navigate and interconnect such needs, the danger is when marriage—or more to the point, a partner—is viewed as the direct means (i.e. object) to attaining them.[2]

Affirmation

What do these needs suggest about one’s identity? In conversations about romance, there can be a subtext about yearning for marriage or wanting it for someone else as way to resolve some form of loneliness and/or insecurity. Married and non-married people alike can talk this way. Yet promoting marriage as the answer to fundamental human needs not only places unhealthy expectations on a partner—and a tendency to idolize him or her, or even the relationship—but also risks perpetuating conflict due to a tendency to project one’s personal framework (e.g. language, expectations) onto the other’s identity.

Why does this happen? For one, it is unavoidable because each person’s framework is limited. But it is also because of an essential human need: affirmation. Affirmation is about giving “a heightened sense of value”, support, and/or validity to someone.[3] Without affirmation, one can feel barraged by a sense of isolation and loneliness: “Sadness because one has no friends or company; the quality of being unfrequented and remote.”[4]

Ultimately, without affirmation, one is vulnerable to fear, which can slowly distort a person’s view of possibilities: “What if life is always this way? What if this feeling never goes away?” Fear breeds insecurity, which can fracture identity and lead to faltering. Fear tempts one to rely too heavily on another person affirming one’s identity, or even to demanding that one’s identity be bestowed by that person. This is not just limited to a romantic partner, for co-dependency or emotional dependency can be witnessed in any kind of relationship, whether between lovers, friends, or family members.[5]

Granted, people do need to affirm one another. But when it is sought as the sole definer of self worth, the framework of identity can collapse further: “If I am not affirmed for who I am, does that I also mean I am not accepted? Will I ever be accepted? Will I ever be loved? If I am not loved, is something wrong with me? What do I do now?”

While there are various good responses to these difficult questions, my concern is that the “affirmation” of marriage is too often clung to as a primary solution—if not from one’s partner then perhaps from one’s children. It can become destructive, while on the surface first appearing constructive, to concentrate entirely on loving someone else, whether partner or child, in hopes of forgetting one’s loneliness. For this again can lead to emotional dependency.

FOMO

Our relationship with technology offers another window through which to understand the need for affirmation. Now, more than ever, influenced by advertising, our frameworks are dominated by comparison. Spencer writes, “We love to see what’s happening with our friends, but the comparison can drive any of us to the despair of not measuring up to others’ beauty, vacations, weddings, or picnic lunches in the backyard.”

With marriages crumbling into ruin as often as they are being reinforced and built up, with intimacy feeling more elusive than ever, technology is now sometimes sought as a new source of affirmation. In the context of marriage, are people turning increasingly to technology for affirmation as a result of disappointment with their spouses, turning from one false god to another?[6] Wu Song writes, “Even when we try to rest, we are restless, and we reach for our phones or tablets because our bodies and our imaginations have forgotten what else there is to reach for. . . . As Dalton Conley described, life is constantly ‘being lived elsewhere’ as our bodies are in one place, but our minds and consciousness are focused on the stuff of our screens. . . . flattening out and editing away our discomforts.”[7] Pointing back to our propensity for co-dependency, only now infused in our relationships with technology, Wu Song asks, “What types of desires do our compulsive digital practices encourage?” For example, do such practices ironically encourage greater isolation, i.e. time physically alone to focus on the emotional “togetherness” provided by technology?

Even if the idea of marriage to another person continues to churn one’s imagination, does the fear of missing out (FOMO) remain a form of motivation; this newly heightened by the comparison inherent to social media? Missing out on what those other people are enjoying—at least as it appears or is promoted with pictures and posts. Thus we return to my initial question: What does marriage promise?

As most can attest, technology usually proves to be a poor substitute for human connection. Most people realize this in their soul. Wu Song concludes, “Part of the trouble with our growing dependence on our socio-technological practices of friendship and community is the modern disregard for the fact that we are embodied persons who bring both physical presence and voice and are impinged upon by the human voice and physical presence of others.” In other words, while interacting with or through technology may be simpler—arguably less demanding; more a mirror to our identity than an autonomous, contrasting identity such as we find in relationship with other people—human relationships, while certainly more complicated, do remind us of our shared temporality: our living in the present, not alone but in community, all the while connected to the past (history) and future (hopes).

In Closing

The reality is that each of us will always be “missing out” on something. But what that is, and whether one cares about it, is subjectively defined. Though organizing and acting upon individual priorities is not a static experience, but rather ongoing, dynamic, evolving, and though the process can feel overwhelming at times, it is not to be feared. For there is someone who offers to save us from our frailty, who knows and values each of us for our true selves (Isaiah 43:1).

We need not fear loneliness. An antonym of loneliness is belonging, and belonging is fundamentally about true friendship. Loneliness begins to be fulfilled through belief in the message of Jesus Christ; that we are beloved children of God, a value shared with all humanity. Jesus heralds the fact that we are not alone; that God is with us and that His Spirit unites all who follow him. This perfect love “casts out all fear” (1 John 4:18) and has both individual and communal significance. Jesus said, “I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you” (John 15:15). Jesus connects our past, present, and futures with the only promise worth worshipping; that “[God] will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” (Deuteronomy 31:8). “He is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer” (Psalm 18:2).

The marriage idol is not a new idea.[8] Therefore, I set out to process this subject not with a desire to provide concrete answers—if only I could—but rather cautions. More so, I aim to elevate awareness, to foster thoughtful discussion toward compassion, which begins with acknowledging the beauty and limits of identity.

So, whether you are single or married, I encourage you to be mindful of how you talk about marriage because how you talk about it reveals more about you than anything else. Consider the implications of your language.[9] For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness or in health, the language we use matters.

* * *

I will conclude with two questions. For those who know me, they are characteristically amorphous, a spectrum full of possible colors and tones. In a way they frame this entire series. In a way, they defy barriers.

1. Is marriage about two people adjusting to an idea or is it about adjusting that idea to themselves?
2. Is intimacy about completing one’s identity or sacrificing it?

What do you think?

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[1] Spencer, G. (2018) Reframing the Soul: How Words Transform Our Faith. Leafwood Publishers: Abilene, TX.

[2] Needs that only God can define and fulfill.

[3] Oxford English Dictionary. Available at: https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/affirm (Accessed 30 April, 2019).

[4] Oxford English Dictionary. Available at: https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/loneliness (Accessed 9 October, 2018). See also Hengtee Lim’s “Love, Sex, and Loneliness.”

[5] See “When to Marry Someone” and Kris Gage’s “How Much to Give and Take in Relationships”

[6] See “Study: Americans are Having Less Sex than Ever.”

[7] Wu Song, F. (2018) “Recovering Presence and Place in the Digital Age: Sociological and Theological Reflections on Technology,” in The Westmont College Magazine, Spring 2018, pp.17-21. See also Sherry Turkle’s Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other.

[8] See “Have Christians Turned Marriage into an Idol?” by Tyler Daswick, “The Idol of Marriage” by Tyler Braun, and Breaking the Marriage Idol by Kutter Callaway (though I have not yet read the book).

[9] For example, Google “What not to say to singles.”

The Marriage Idol, Part 2

Reexamining some Ideas

In Part 1, I introduce the beautiful complexity of identity, suggesting its influence not only on self-image, but how an individual perceives others and how others in turn perceive that individual. As I began to write this second post[1], I realized that before I can present the heart of the matter, I should reexamine some ideas to further develop the context from which I am writing. These ideas are love, marriage, and idolatry.

What is Love?

Marriage at its healthiest and most inspiring cannot be understood detached from love. In fact, a meaningful human existence cannot exist without love. But what is love? Its most powerful manifestation is God (YHWH), in history made most tangible through Jesus of Nazareth, called Christ, who lived, died, and resurrected on earth as a particular man in a particular time in history (this concept summarized succinctly in Philippians 2:1-11). In short, God is love: “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love” (I John 4:7-8).

God’s love is ultimately a call to an intimate relationship with our Creator. In this, one is welcomed to a life of belonging—not only as a child of God, but an heir of His goodness. In this, one joins a global community called the Church, which echoes God’s Kingdom on earth through participating in His “Great Campaign.” This call offers an individual and communal purpose characterized by hope and meaning. I expound upon this in “What is Love?”, relate it more directly to my personal identity in “A Confession,” and consider its effectiveness in “Hunger vs.Ambition.”

Or as the apostle Paul of Tarsus writes, “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends” (I Corinthians 13:4-8a).

Overall, it is important to remember that God chooses to love us, despite our frailty—our propensity for fear, selfishness, hurting ourselves and others. Choice. God’s love is a gift of immense grace. For those who choose to follow and emulate the sacrificial servant leadership of Jesus Christ, there is a call to love others in the same way.

What is Marriage?

As one writer expresses it so simply and profoundly: “You don’t fall in love. You discover it. Then it’s built” (see “No One Really Falls in Love”). Writer Benjamin Sledge adds his own honest perspective in “The Single Greatest Lesson We Should Know about Love (But Forgot).” Or Tim Keller might add, “You Never Marry the Right Person.”

Marriage does not just happen to someone, in other words. It is another example of choice.

I explore the idea of marriage extensively in my three-part series, “Why Marry Someone?” so will avoid restating it all here. In short, marriage is a consolidation of love’s many forms, such as compassion, friendship, and perhaps most uniquely, physical intimacy. Marriage represents a mysterious, intense expression of a particularly kind of relationship between two people. But it is not the only expression.

What is Idolatry?

The conceptual spark for my writing about “The Marriage Idol” was Josh Fox’s analysis of the Old Testament narrative of the Golden Calf (Exodus 32; 1 Corinthians 10:1-8).[2] It led me to reconsider certain experiences and conversations about marriage. From golden calf to romance—a strange progression, I know.

It is important to consider what an idol is. The Oxford English Dictionary begins to define idol as an “image or representation of a god used as an object of worship.” God is defined as “1. (in Christianity and other monotheistic religions) the creator and ruler of the universe and source of all moral authority; the supreme being; 2. (in certain other religions) a superhuman being or spirit worshipped as having power over nature or human fortunes; a deity; [or] 3.1. A thing accorded the supreme importance appropriate to a god.” The last definition is the broadest, but may be most helpful in this discussion. Furthermore, note that the verb, worship, means to “Show reverence and adoration for (a deity).”

In the orthodox Christian faith[3], God is to be directly worshipped as opposed to our worshipping some representation of Him. While there are icons and images portraying Jesus Christ or the narratives of the Bible, and while a Bible may be placed at the center of a church’s place of worship, all usually serve to remind and teach; they are not to be confused with idols. There are nuances that could be discussed about iconography, church architecture, and liturgy, but that exceeds the scope of this current writing.

In short, for the Christ-follower at least, to worship anything other than God as preeminent is to slip into idolatry. In a broader sense, it is about considering what my identity is grounded on.

For example, in the story of the Golden Calf, a majority of the Israelites invest in a shifty lie that lingers today—that God is holding out on me or us. As happened to the Israelites—in this story impatient and uncertain about Moses’ return from Mt. Sinai—this can lead to rushing God’s timing and/or to settling for less than His best, substituting Him with something else, which concurrently attempts to rob God of His glory. Granted, it can be difficult to accept a delay to personal hopes and expectations. Instead of trusting God, it is tempting to turn to something more tangible or that seems controllable. It can be hard to trust God, especially when it is difficult to understand His will. It is nice to be in control.

So in a way, idolatry is about control. In the tension between faith and fear, there is a struggle for control. Granted, some idols develop from things God intended to be good. Some common ones may be romantic love when distorted by the lie that it completes me, money when masquerading as a means to attain personal security, and success when it comes to define my worth. Perhaps even identity itself can be idolized. For how many people obsess over their image, physical or digital when provided the means to change, curate, customize and/or edit how they are each presented (e.g. on social media)?

To avoid the snare of idolatry, we are called to remember what God is like—namely, that He is not one to hold out on us. After all, the good news (gospel) of Jesus Christ is that God gave all of himself to free and protect us from our own limitations, corrupting excuses, frailty (see John 3:16-21).

God’s love proposes the truest of marriages: intimacy with our Creator. To reject this love is to choose something other than God for meaning. As God is the origin of all that is good, to reject Him is, therefore, perhaps to settle for an imitation of good. It is to choose an idol.

But that is not exactly what I mean by “The Marriage Idol.” While it could be a start to understanding why so many marriages crumble, including in the Church, I have something subtler in mind, and more related to being single or how people engage with those who are. While to reject God is the most self-destructive choice a person can make, for his or her past, present, and future; there may be a social trend that is proving almost as damaging to individual identity.

Read the Final Part

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[1] Originally, I only intended for there to be one post for this whole idea.

[2] “The Call” (Part 12). Sermon at WestGate Church on 22 July, 2018. Available at: http://www.westgatechurch.org/westgate-teaching/thecall-week12.

[3] Orthodox = “Following or conforming to the traditional or generally accepted rules or beliefs of a religion, philosophy, or practice” (Oxford English Dictionary).

The Marriage Idol, Part 1

Re-Introducing Identity

What defines you?

Before reading on, I encourage you to actually think about this question—to look away from your laptop or put down your smart phone. Try to detach from your surroundings for at least sixty seconds and bask in a moment of silent, contemplative solitude. Time yourself. An actual minute can feel long, even intimidating. But try. Truly think about the question.

(Nope, do not read ahead yet.)

What ideas came to the forefront of your thoughts?

Did your self-image begin with your external features—face, eyes, hair, body type, and whether you are satisfied with them? Did you think of your gender, race, or social class? What about your job, family, relational status, religion, or dreams for the future? Did you consider your place in time and space?

The nature of the original question is about identity, about the characteristics that make each of us unique. It is not only about self-image, but self worth. It is ultimately about being aware of how we present ourselves and are received. It is about confidence and choice.

In a common conversation, the subject of identity would probably not be broached in this way. Furthermore, to get to know someone, the leading question(s) will usually vary depending on the other’s life stage. For example: “What is your name?” and “How old are you?” might begin an interaction with a child. Later as a high school student, that child may be asked about her favorite subject or extracurricular endeavor; while specifically as a senior being pressed about what she wishes to study, and at what university. “Where are you from?” and “What’s your major?” might begin the conversation among her first-year college peers; and then “What are you going to do next?” can burden the approach to graduation.

Do you notice a thematic shift in these questions?

Granted, this example presumes a society where gender equality is fundamentally honored, both in educational and vocational opportunities. Moreover, note that though gender, race, and social class are important aspects of identity, I want to steer away from delving too deeply into their nuanced implications. In other words, while I appreciate their influence, my focus in this writing aims to be broader, as I began to do five years ago with my post, “What is Identity?”

So, consider further with me my example of questions posed to a maturing young woman: Immersed in “post-theoretical” life, or what some misleadingly call “the real world”—either way, referring to no longer being a student in a formal academic institution—our imagined heroine might be met with questions about what she does, which almost always implies profession. Yet among family, and particularly Christian church environments, another question often accompanies or is the subtext to such questions. Expressed in a variety of ways, they essentially drive at relational status (e.g. Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you seeing/pursuing/interested in anyone?). If the answer is “No,” then for the bolder or brasher inquisitor, the next question may be “Why not?”

It is on this last theme of questioning that I wish to linger.

Of course, there are a myriad of ways that a person can navigate these questions; and the tone of such—friendly or defensive, honest or evasive—will be framed by the context of trust between the people involved in conversation. In the family and church contexts, being married and having children, at least by a certain age, seem to be received as the more acceptable or understandable response. That can be true for certain vocational pursuits as well, but that is another theme.

In this writing, I aim to drawn our focus on how relational status influences self-image and “social-image” (i.e. how others perceive and receive oneself). It is interesting how being single or unmarried raises a distinct line of questioning, voiced or not, that differ from those related to being married. For the most part, this is normal and to be expected.

But as we prepare to investigate this theme of identity further, it is important not to lose track of the initial question: What defines me? But from that, I also want to ask: How do I define other people? These are the underlying questions. For how one answers the first influences how one answers the second.

Are any of the aforementioned questions inherently wrong? No, not necessarily. I am not really interested in making moral judgments. Rather, I am interested in building awareness; that we not only understand ourselves better (i.e. individual identity), but also the influence of identity on human interaction. That there seems to be a thematic shift in approaching identity as someone ages, particularly as it concerns relational status.

The layers of identity not only thicken with life experience, but perhaps subtly direct our attention from intrinsic to extrinsic markers. Put more simply: as we age, identity seems to transition from being centered on origin (e.g. I am a child of this family), personal strengths and interests (e.g. personality) to vocational, marital, and parental statuses. So for those who are married, identity returns to a kind of original framework: family. Not that one can ever fully dissociate from a biological family identity. As one’s parents get older, for example, the reality of being a son or daughter takes on additional meaning. Still, unlike being a child whose life is mainly orchestrated by her parents; as a more independent adult, the biological family identity can experience some tension with the additional layers, especially those related to vocation. This may be because a career offers its own definitions of security, purpose, and even family (in the broader sense). Many people struggle to resolve this tension between family and career. However, I would challenge views that define the struggle as being a simple choice between one or the other. The sources and reasons for tensions in identity are difficult to summarize. Each life has a myriad of variables, and rarely do they allow nicely compartmentalized moral conclusions.

Yet there is still another facet to consider. If there is or can be a return to an “original” sense of self (i.e. that of a child), it seems the most common bridge—a means for connection, even balance—is the search for God, for a transcendent meaning, security, and purpose. I consider this further in “What is Identity?”

Overall, the layers of identity can perhaps be organized under three main themes: family, vocation, and spirituality. None can be dissociated from the others, however; like the relationship between past, present, and future.

Do you begin to grasp the beautiful complexity of all this?

Understanding identity—not to mention the idea of communal identity—becomes more complicated when we realize how we project ourselves onto others, consciously or not. After all, we are limited beings. Therefore, it is natural to interpret the world through our personal or subjective frame of vision. This is not only about how we see and interprets the world (physically and cognitively: knowledge)—what could be called a relationship between present and past—but how we perceive reality and maintain (accept), improve (build upon), or alter (rebel against, reconstruct) that reality, both at an individual and societal scale. In these last opportunities, there is creation: an adopted view of the future united with present and past. Identity is, therefore, also influenced by our relationship with time (temporality): what we know, believe, and hope for. In this, time can be thought of as a thread that unites our three themes of identity: family, vocation, and spirituality.

But enough abstraction. What does this have to do with the marriage? And what is “The Marriage Idol”?

This re-introduction of the broader notions of identity is intended to provide a conceptual context for interpreting the influence of marriage on one’s self-image and self worth.

Read Part 2

But before I proceed, I would value your feedback (please select one of the following):

1. A Question for those who are single.
2. A Question for those who are married or in a relationship.

The Hope of Fantasy

To build further upon what I explored in "Is Fiction Fake" and shared in "Art is the grandchild of God", here in a great artist’s words is a literary vision framing the hope of Fantasy:

“But the ‘consolation’ of fairy-stories [Fantasy] has another aspect than the imaginative satisfaction of ancient desires [for example, the desire to visit, free as a fish, the deep sea; or the longing for the noiseless, gracious, economical flight of a bird . . . the desire to converse with other living things . . . the Escape from Death]. Far more important is the Consolation of the Happy Ending. . . . [Or more precisely] the eucatastrophic tale [which] is the true form of fairy-tale, and its highest function.

“The consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous ‘turn’ (for there is no true end to any fairy-tale): this joy, which is one of the things which fairy-stories can produce supremely well, is not essentially ‘escapist’, nor ‘fugitive’. . . . It does not deny the existence of decatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief. . . .

“In such stories when the sudden ‘turn’ comes we get a piercing glimpse of joy, and heart’s desire, that for a moment passes outside the frame, rends indeed the very web of story, and lets a gleam come through. . . .

“The peculiar quality of the ‘joy’ in successful Fantasy can thus be explained as a sudden glimpse of the underlying reality or truth. . . . in the ‘eucatastrophe’ we see in a brief vision that the answer [to the question, ‘Is it true?’] may be greater [than merely being true in that secondary fairy-story world]—it may be a far-off gleam or echo of evangelium in the real world. . . .

“The Gospels contain a fairy story, or a story of a larger kind which embraces all the essence of fairy-stories. They contain many marvels—peculiarly artistic, beautiful, and moving: ‘mythical’ in their perfect, self-contained significance; and among the marvels is the greatest and most complete conceivable eucatastrophe. But this story has entered History and the primary world; the desire and aspiration of sub-creation has been raised to the fulfillment of Creation.

"The Birth of Christ is the eucatastrophe of Man’s history. The Resurrection is the eucatastrophe of the story of the Incarnation. This story begins and ends in joy. It has pre-eminently the ‘inner consistency of reality’. There is no tale ever told that men would rather find was true, and none which so many skeptical men have accepted as true on its own merits. For the Art of it has the supremely convincing tone of Primary Art, that is, of Creation. To reject it leads either to sadness or to wrath. . . .

“The Evangelium has not abrogated legends; it has hallowed them, especially the ‘happy ending’. The Christian has still to work, with mind as well as body, to suffer, hope, and die; but he may now perceive that all his bents and faculties have a purpose, which can be redeemed. So great is the bounty with which he has been treated that he may now, perhaps, fairly dare to guess that in Fantasy he may actually assist in the effoliation and multiple enrichment of creation. All tales may come true; and yet, at the last, redeemed, they may be as like and as unlike the forms that we give them as Man, finally redeemed, will be like and unlike the fallen that we know.”

- J.R.R. Tolkien
From his essay, "On Fairy-Stories" (originally shared as a lecture in 1939), as published in The Monsters and the Critics 

Not to Walk Alone, Part 4

Opportunities

The following is the final part in a series about my recent experience on the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail). Read Part 1, and Part 2, and Part 3. Each part has been adapted from journal entries written in the wild. The date and time listed are when the journal entry was originally written.

11 June, 2018: Monday
21:52—Silverwood Lake, “Bikers” Campground [PCT Mile 328.7 (Mileage Today: 25.75)]

Click Map to Enlarge

I am utterly spent. I pushed on farther than planned due to the allure of soaking in the lake and enjoying fellow hiker company. Alas, neither of these came to be, but I appreciate the faucets and bathrooms here. The Philadelphia Boys pushed me and I pushed them: Chris “Crash”, Noah “Drop Zone”, and Colin.

But I will write more tomorrow. I have only 13 miles of this PCT section left, which includes some climbing. I pray my body is restored enough tonight to complete the section in good time, but mostly to catch up with the Boys. In the meantime, goodnight.

13 June, 2018: Wednesday
7:23—Yucaipa

“God, the LORD, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places” (Habakkuk 3:19).

10:01—(same location)

Monday, I rose at about 6:00, noting how the sun was progressively lighting the western hills. I prefer packing up camp and completing my routine in the cool of the shade when the temperature is pleasant, only beginning to hint of the heat to come.

Ready to traverse the boulder field and hike back up to the PCT from my Deep Creek camp, I only took a few steps before feeling water spilling from the base of my pack. Realizing that it must be my hydration bladder (Note: I keep it in a pouch fashioned inside the back of my pack so that the drinking hose has easy access through a slot to attach to my shoulder strap). A lot of leakage was occurring, so I cursed and quickly removed my pack to salvage the situation. The problem was that the hose joint at the base of the bladder had been pulled out. I lost over half a liter of water. Fortunately, some water was left and the hose could be fit back into place, seemingly secure; though I am now more mindful of how I place the bladder in the pouch.

Overall, I didn’t mind having a damp butt, for the day would be sunny and dry. Concerned about my down feather sleeping bag being soaked, I placed my mini towel inside along the bottom of my pack beside the bag to absorb the moisture. I also took my [useless] pillow out along with my wind jacket (which I never used) and strapped them to the outside of my pack to dry. All this ultimately proved effective.

Having reached the PCT, while I made some final pack adjustments, a couple hikers passed by and waved knowingly. I did not recognize them, but later realized that they were the Philly Boys. Not long after I started hiking, Crash passed me at a brisk pace to catch up with them (having apparently made a pit stop).

The next four miles were leisurely with countless canyon views of rugged Deep Creek. I passed the German hiker I’d met days earlier at the Holcomb Creek campsite. He was struggling to break in some new hiking boots. His partner, Celine (from Switzerland), was waiting for him not far down the path.

I wanted to stop at the much-talked about Deep Creek Hot Springs. Arriving, a number of people were lounging about. The beach looked in a bit of disarray, much likely contributed to by weekenders or tourists who walk in from a nearby dirt road, but don’t pack out their garbage. There are some locals, however, including rangers, who do their best to keep it clean. Still, it’s discouraging how trashed some natural sights can get when people don’t care about those coming after them. The rangers have their hands full. Camping is technically not permitted, but some get away with it. PCT hikers generally try to honor the Leave No Trace philosophy, so are allegedly given greater leniency in terms of being allowed to camp at the Hot Springs. I probably could have camped there, but on the other hand I’m not sure I’d have fit in. Quick Start, who I’d see later that day and hike with for a while during the next day (my final day), talked about having passed out on the beach with a few others the night before I arrived. I can’t remember if he said it was from weed, some kind of drug, alcohol, or a combination.

Anyway, I reconnected (and finally recognized) the Philly Boys as I arrived at the Hot Springs. I talked with Drop Zone for a while—he’d earned the name on another backpacking excursion after his food canister fell off a cliff—and then joined the others to soak my feet in one of the ten hottest pools (105+ F). Some bathers enjoyed the “no clothes required” culture of the springs. The Philly Boys and I talked with two local men about the trail and their memories of Hot Springs shenanigans from the last twenty plus years. “Hippie Dave” shared the most, how there could be hundreds of people at the springs at a time, about a man who landscaped the pools using creek stones and cement to create walls and deeper pools (really quite nice), not to mention the parties, orgies, arrests, and more that have and still occur. The Philly Boys and I listened and conversed politely and with engagement, but also a degree of emotional distance. We are not really part of the hippie backpacker culture.

Ready to depart, I asked to join the Philly Boys, which they welcomed. Collin hasn’t earned a trail name yet. His knee is bothering him, especially during descents. Crash (i.e. “Crash Bandicoot” because his face, namely his eyes, kind of looks like the video game character, much to his reluctance, though Balloons and I immediately saw the connection) is probably the fastest, most aggressive hiker of the three. Drop Zone is the quietest, but certainly solid. Crash will be leaving the trail in a few weeks after they take a break to connect with their girlfriends. If I would be in San Jose instead of Kentucky at the time they’ll be there, I would try to connect. Alas, I will be away. Collin and Drop Zone will hike until early September when their jobs begin. About all this and more, including about myself, favorite Disney song(s)—for possible trail song parodies—were discussed as we hiked. I tried Crash’s trekking poles, interested in the rationale of using them, and really liked their flow. Not only do they give the hands something to do, particularly against swelling, but most of all provide a way to leverage arm power for greater speed. I think I’ll acquire a set for my next distance hike.

Approaching the Mohave River Forks Reservoir Spillway, we passed a few day hikers going into the canyon; only, they weren’t carrying any gear, especially water. Noting that we were a couple miles from the Hot Springs or car access from the Spillway, I thought about how people like this add to the statistics of hikers dying from dehydration.

The Philly Boys and I ran into some confusion at the base of the Spillway regarding the direction of the PCT. We met a woman who was experiencing the same. Apparently some hikers had proceeded down a dirt road, but our maps indicated that we needed to cross at the adjacent creek. We opted for the latter. Drop Zone got his shoes wet and the woman fell in, so I decided to just take off my shoes. The other side of the creek was overgrown with vegetation. It didn’t seem like the right way. Collin bushwhacked to try to find the trail while I left my gear with the others in order to jog downstream to see if the PCT actually crossed there (i.e. via the aforementioned dirt road). Both options proved true. It appeared that the trail has been redirected in the last few years. So we retrieved our gear and, excluding Collin who walked the older section of the trail, walked barefoot downstream to the newer PCT crossing. In the shade of a tree we then ate some lunch, filtered some water—all that we would have for the next 11-15 miles until Silverwood Lake—and let our feet dry. Though the Boys are all twenty-two, we seemed to have compatible personalities and shared experience as distance runners.

I’m not sure how I would have completed my last two days on the trail without company.

For the remainder of the afternoon, the trail followed the meandering contours of the hills that border the desert valley of the dry Mohave River Forks Reservoir. There was little cover or shade, though thankfully a gusty wind, to shelter us from the heat. I led the group after a break near the Mohave River Campground trail junction. Venturing alone to the campground ¾ mile away (my original plan) in the heat of the day was unappealing to me, so I resolved to push on with the Boys. We met others at our break, including a girl who had hiked most of el Camino de Santiago in Spain (until her gear was stolen). She had the Camino shell attached to her pack. Everyone was pressing on to Silverwood Lake. I wanted to be in community.

The remaining miles were tough, though I initially led the aggressive pace. We were heartened to finally ascend to a point overlooking the lake (c. PCT mile 325). The blue water looked so inviting. It would be another 3+ miles before we reached camp. I was very much looking forward to soaking in the lake. I gradually burned out along the way, falling behind (Collin had fallen behind earlier, but passed me while I rested). I needed to stop at one point to rest my feet and eat a Snicker’s Bar for energy. I felt spent. Soon I ran out of water.

There was a frustrating set of missteps once I reached Silverwood Lake’s Cleghorn Picnic Area. At first, I thought I had gone too far, leaving the PCT for a bike path in hopes of reaching the camping area where I presumed other hikers would be staying. Having backtracked on the road, I found Crash and Drop Zone. (The hiker with the travel guitar was also there; at McDonald’s the next day, I learned his name is “Yellow Toe.”) Collin had apparently reached the Mesa Campground and was excited about the showers. Talking on the phone with him, Crash told him, “Leave it running.” We tried to cross over to the mesa via a faint “trail”, but that ended in water, then backtracked to attempt the bike path, but some day users were a bit vague about whether it led to the camp; so we backtracked again to the road. Tired and aggravated, Drop Zone said it well: “I’m done with this day.” He was in flip flops and shirtless, having changed at the picnic area, thinking that was where we’d camp. “Prematurely” he added, later along with how shortcuts often prove to be the longest ways.

Nonetheless, we finally found Collin. The other two lined up to shower, but I noticed a sign pointing to the “Biker Camp” (including a picture of hikers) further down the road. I didn’t want to clean up and then have to hike a ways, so told the Boys that I was pressing on, thinking that they’d join me after their showers. As they too didn’t feel like moving after showering, they arranged with the camp manager to stay in one of the nearby vacant car sites. (The manager also let them use the shower without paying.) I should have just stayed with them. But I wouldn’t learn of these details until the next day.

As dusk approached, I made camp at the corner of the mesa. The hordes of mosquitoes created a steady whine in the air above my head. Fortunately they did not really bother me. Seeing that the nearby showers (different than where the Philly Boys were) cost $2 in quarters for 4 minutes, I decided to just use the nearby faucet. Stripped to my shorts, washing from the faucet, I’m sure I was a bit of a strange sight to the car campers. I paused to let one guy fill up his water jug. I was happy to learn from him that the water was potable.

Cleaned as best as I could, with my tent set, I felt exhausted but content eating dinner—double portions since I knew the next day would be my last; I benefited from the extra energy and not needing to carry the weight. I observed a few flashlights across the water inlet below at the Cleghorn Picnic Area. Latecomers on the PCT, I presumed. I kind-of wished I was over there with them, but more so wondered where the Philly Boys had settled, wondered if they’d start early or sleep in a bit as Drop Zone had suggested earlier.

After calling Andrew to let him know that I was another day ahead of schedule, I sank into a deep sleep, hearing the sound of coyote calls amidst cheers and laughter from nearby car campers who had set up a projector in order to play classic Nintendo games. It was amusing, but not exactly my ideal atmosphere for a last night on the trail. Yet part of the nature of the PCT is adaptability, just going with opportunities. Trying to control everything only leads to irritation and burnout.

The Final Day

11:54—(same as above) [PCT Mile: 342 (Day’s Mileage: 14)]

I awoke just past 6:00, not wanting to be in any more sunlight than necessary; but also because I was anxious to return to the trail away from the littered, somewhat mangy Mesa Campground; but most of all to catch the Philly Boys in case they had left early. Having eaten heartily the night before, I decided to just pack up and depart for the trail right away, thinking I’d eat breakfast during my first break. As I ascended from Silverwood Lake to the top of Cleghorn Ridge, I passed by Yellow Toe breaking camp as well as an older woman seen the day before called “Keep Going.”

A little over 3 miles into my day, at a dirt road (RD0332), I came across Quick Start and Balloons finishing their break. I was going to eat breakfast there, but they talked about a “shoes off” break at a camp in about 1.5 miles, so I decided to join them. I didn’t recognize Balloons at first (Note: he’s from Bakersfield; named for picking up some discarded balloons early on the trail, including one with “Class of 2018” printed on it). Quick Start, named for the whimsical nature of his deciding to hike the PCT weeks before the conclusion of his first year of college in Phoenix, AR, was recognizable from the day before. He is also a runner, which we talked about extensively for a time after our breakfast break.

I was thankful for the company, but after our break my left foot flared up painfully, causing me to limp slightly. Quick Start was moving along well. Yellow Toe had passed us during the break, we yo-yoed a bit with Keep Going and an English couple, the two [Dutch?] girls were a bit behind us, and I was beginning to slow; so I let Quick Start, with his wide-brimmed beach hat, Vietnam War era external frame pack, and GoPro in hand, go on ahead of me. (Note: He began the trail even carrying his laptop for picture editing, but quickly sent that home after a brutal first day of dehydration from Campo.)

At Mile 338, I rested my feet in the shade of a power line tower, waiting for Balloons. (In the desert, shade is a treasure that often dictates where to take a break.) Before stopping, I called out to Quick Start who was not far in front of me, but he didn’t hear. My throat was too dry. Balloons eventually reached me. We enjoyed some conversation as he hydrated and ate some powdered hummus.

To my delight, the Philly Boys soon caught up with us, having risen later. I learned how their evening had concluded, thought about joining them for the last 3 miles, but then didn’t want to abandon Balloons just yet. Also, I wasn’t sure I would be able to maintain their more aggressive pace.

Before departing for our last haul, I gave Balloons some foot stretching tips, which he implemented and desperately needed. He’s going to meet up with his parents and likely check with a specialist about his foot. I hope he’s able to make a swift recovery. (Note: He works in environmental science, and has been to the Bay Area before.)

Reaching our first overlook of Cajon Pass and its hilly, barren glory, I saw that the Philly Boys were not too far ahead. My foot still hurt a bit, but was numbing, so I tried to use my hips, gluts, and knees in my usual fluid descent fashion, which can be quite fast. I caught them just as we reached the weigh station to I-15.

McDonald’s with its golden arches never had nor likely never again will hold such appeal. It is a brief hiker haven between sections C and D, as is the hiker-friendly Best Western Hotel that provides discounted rates to PCT hikers. There is a heavy 22+ mile ascending waterless stretch to start Section D, which discourages hikers during the midday heat. Hence the air conditioning and cheap food of McDonald’s (or nearby Subway) is so appealing. Many hikers opted to spend the night at the Best Western. Some, like the Philly Boys, planned to wait out the heat, pack up 4+ liters of water, and start the ascent that evening.

“I am partially jealous of you,” Collin commented as I prepared to leave with Andrew. “I am partially jealous of me too,” I replied, meaning that I was sad to leave the PCT community in which I had begun to belong. There were at least fourteen PCT hikers in the McDonald’s, packs taking over part of the walkway and half of a booth—to the annoyance or amusement of other patrons, who were probably mostly curious by this jovial but hungry and grimy group of bon vivants. An older woman, a trail angel, offered us peanut butter cookies.


Crash and I had been talking about cold drinks, especially McFlurries, the day before, so I indulged in a large and then small vanilla milkshake. So good. Andrew and I next drove to Chipotle en route to his place in Yucaipa.

Before leaving, I wrote down the Philly Boys Instagram account to follow (@norf_bound) as well as Collin’s email to send him some photos. I am definitely tired. My foot hurts and feels slightly swollen, so I need to rest and tend to it at least for today.

Cleaning up last night felt really good, though it took two soap scrubs to really get the dirt off, especially around the feet and ankles. I have some fresh blisters, likely from pushing too hard these last three days in heat across sandy terrain.

I wouldn’t really want to day hike any of the area I covered in this section. There are just not really points of interest except Mount San Gorgonio, Big Bear Lake, and Silverwood Lake, though just hiking by them is enough in my opinion. The highlight of this section was the people, feeling more part of the PCT community than ever before.

I learned some lessons about gear—refinements really: e.g. checking if things work before leaving, how to better clean and store some, items to lose or add, food that works—but also confirmation about pacing for enjoyment, physical stamina, and injury prevention. I sacrificed a bit of the latter in favor of community, which I do not regret. But if I were to attempt a thru hike again, or even with sections, I must be ever mindful of pace for the first 1-3 weeks of my body’s acclimation—not ignoring the knowledge of conditioning learned from distance running.

Part of me is sad to be done, but part of me is satisfied. There are other important, meaningful responsibilities and adventures in store this summer. Lake Tahoe and Section C of the PCT have been an incredible start. Thank you, God, for the opportunities, and for being my strength in weakness. I love you.

Amen.