Melancholy Baby and the Rapture of the Deep

Sometimes Melancholy comes to visit, and let me tell ya, it’s hard to get rid of. Melancholy tends to make itself at home in me when I read Finder, The Lord of the Rings, or just about any book by Charles De Lint, or after watching a particularly depressing movie (which is why I usually don’t watch those kinds of movies). I don’t know how others define Melancholy, but for me, it’s an extreme introspection, usually of a gloomy nature.

Sometimes I refer to my Melancholy as my own personal “Rapture of the Deep.” Jacques Cousteau coined the phrase “Rapture of the Deep” to refer to the sensations experienced by divers undergoing nitrogen narcosis. Usually these sensations were somewhat akin to being drunk, and included a feeling of invulnerability. Later on, the phrase was used to describe the emotions felt by an astronaut on a spacewalk, when the world was literally “at his feet.” In that case, it’s a feeling of oneness with the universe: of being separate from humanity and a part of something greater… which, for an astronaut tethered to Earth only by his connection to a Space Shuttle, might be a valid feeling.

I actually first encountered “Rapture of the Deep” in, of all things, a Star Trek: The Next Generation novel. Captain Picard used it to describe the near-hypnotic state of space explorers who stare too long into the vast blackness of space. For me, the more literal Rapture of the Deep hits me when I am either staring at the stars or standing on a beach at night, looking out at the ocean (or, in my case, the Gulf of Mexico).

On the beach, the Rapture of the Deep leaves me with the notion that, were I to step into the ink-black water in front of me, I would disappear: there is no bottom, no end–the blackness goes on forever.

When I’m looking up at the stars (the few I can see in my little corner of this light-polluted world), my chest constricts, my vision narrows, and part of me feels as though I am leaving my body and being drawn into the darkness of space…

…pretty morbid stuff, huh?

While the Rapture of the Deep I face at the beach sometimes invokes my personal phobias (of falling, or getting lost in a dark place), the Rapture I feel when looking at the stars leaves me less petrified and more at peace. Perhaps it’s that whole “Hell below us, Heaven above” trope: looking down makes me afraid, looking up makes me serene. Or perhaps it’s because, while sharks rarely attack astronauts, they do tend to lurk just beyond the shoreline. Maybe it goes back to that cruise I took about 10 years ago–one night I was standing on deck and was struck with the fear that I would somehow topple overboard and no one would notice I was gone, because it was so dark. I don’t know. Often, both types of Rapture make me sad, and often, both types fill me with hope.

Anyway, today I’m feeling Melancholy for a much different reason: one far more personal and one that I am not comfortable sharing. But I know that it’s Melancholy, come for a visit: I feel disconnected from the immediacy of my physical surroundings, while at the same time connected to something more… metaphysical? Mystical? Spiritual? Now I sound like one of those fake mediums who knocks the table with her knees to make you think the ghost of your uncle Bob has stopped by to say “Howdy.” That’s not the kind of image I want to relate. I’m just trying to say that this connection, this tether that ties me to my loved ones and to the world is not physical. It’s beyond the physical, through my Creator. When my physical existence, and that of my loved ones, is threatened, it’s that metaphysical (in the literal sense of the world) link that keeps me sane.

Sometimes my Melancholy comes to visit, and it brings me to the Rapture of the Deep. When that Rapture pulls me into infinity, and I feel serene and not afraid, I find it easier to come back home.

Welcome to the United Methodist…”Social Club”?

I am a member of the United Methodist Church, an institution that was established based on the teachings of John Wesley. Wesley believed that the best way to grow in faith was to pursue a steady, “methodical” study of the Word of God (hence the name “Methodist”). “United Methodism” is a particular branch of Methodism in which a lot of Methodist churches have united and pledged to do things the same way: organization of the church leaders, hiring and transferring of pastors, order of worship, etc. The coolest thing about this is that, no matter where you go, if you attend a United Methodist Church, you’ll be able to follow along with the service without fear of standing, sitting, or kneeling at the wrong time. It makes you feel more at home, which is really nice when you’re far away from family and friends.

In fact, the mission of the United Methodist Church is often focused on making people feel at home. “Open hearts, open minds, open doors” is the Church’s slogan. On the first Sunday of each month, when we have Holy Communion, everyone in attendance is invited to participate, even if they don’t belong to our particular church, even if they aren’t a member of the United Methodist denomination. We feel that, since Communion is a way to remember what Christ did for us, we can’t deny anyone that experience based on their supposed “unworthiness.” After all, how do we determine who is “worthy”? Are any of us truly worthy? The whole point of Christ’s sacrifice was that none of us are worthy; that’s why we need Him. We are equal in God’s eyes, just like it says in the Declaration of Independence: not just equal in our rights, but equal in our wrongs. We are equally unworthy and equally in need.

At least, that’s the way Methodists are supposed to feel. But sometimes, just like in a lot of denominations or religions, the idea that we are all sinners—that no one is better or more deserving than another—gets lost in the mix. The activities of our faith are a blend of worship, service, and fellowship. But sometimes, fellowship shoves worship and service out of the way, and church becomes more of a social club than a place to focus on serving God. If church is a social club, then social club customs apply: you have to be the “right kind of person” to get an invitation. In the case of church, you have to be the “right kind of person” to be worthy of our attention, our fellowship, and our service.

This kind of thinking leads to an attitude of superiority among churchgoers. “I’m better than you because I come to church every Sunday.” Perhaps they have a point. Regular church attendance is an important part of the Christian lifestyle. But does merely showing up and sitting in a pew make one a better Christian? Does the fact that one can “see and be seen” in a brick and mortar building with a steeple on top once a week really spread the word of God through Christ? If so, then does sitting in a chair in a doctor’s office make you a doctor? Does merely setting foot into a courtroom make you a lawyer? Somehow, the mere act of being counted “present” at church doesn’t seem sufficient, does it?

For me, a Sunday service in my hometown church—complete with the charming antics of the “Children’s Minute,” a sermon by our outgoing, kind, and expressive pastor, and, of course, the majestic sounds of the pipe organ—elevates me to a higher level of worshipfulness. Whether or not I maintain that level of worshipfulness during the week is a challenge that sometimes proves quite a struggle. But, during the service, for the moment, I am in the moment. I feel closer to God. I feel the Holy Spirit within me. I hope that my fellow worshippers come away with the same feeling.

I fear that, for some—perhaps, for many—that is not the case. And that, I think, is the problem. While “see and be seen” is good enough for the social circles, it isn’t nearly good enough for God. Physical presence is not enough. Without the presence of your spirit—and your heart, mind, and soul—your body sitting in that pew might as well be a mannequin. To me it seems that many professed “Christians” today settle for physical presence in their faith. And then, just as they deny entrance into the social club to those who don’t “make the cut,” or fit their ideal image of what a fellow Christian should be, they deny entrance to their own hearts and souls, putting up barriers of prejudice, pride, spite, politics, hate, and ego.

In my church, over the past few years, some of our missions have come under fire from other church members, who think we shouldn’t put forth effort helping the recipients of these missions. Our food pantry was criticized for giving food to people who “look like they should be able to hold down a job.” Our day care was criticized because the renovations and start-up costs were paid for by “the church’s money” (when, in fact, after a few months it became completely self-sufficient). And our Hispanic ministry was, is, and likely ever shall be criticized for countless reasons, many of which you can likely guess—bigotry, racism, elitism. Some members apparently think that all persons of Hispanic or Latino heritage who live in our town must necessarily be illegal, and thus, undeserving of… our help? Our prayers? God’s love??

Does God care if you have your green card? Does He care if you are able to hold down a job? Does it matter to Him if you are dressed in dirty clothes, if you smoke, if you drink, if you’ve been divorced, if you’ve had a drug problem? Do any of these things truly affect His love for you?

How about this one: Does God care if you are lying to others and yourself about how “Christian”—how Christ-like—you act when you’re out of church?

God wants us to help others. Yes, we should hope and pray that these others learn how to care for themselves and their loved ones. Not because we want to be rid of the burden of helping them, but because we should want to rejoice when they are able to reach their full potential, physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. Until they do, those who need us—no matter their income level, their personal problems, their “questionable” lifestyle, or their ethnic heritage—should expect our help. No questions asked, no dress code, no rules of etiquette.

Why? Because they do deserve it. Those in need deserve our help because, though we don’t deserve it, God freely offers his. We were given the gift of Grace, the gift of God’s Love, and it is our responsibility, and our joy, to share that Grace and that Love with others, any way we can.

In Matthew 25: 35-40, Jesus says this far better than I can:

“Then the King will say…’For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me’.

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 3When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me’.”

Fun Ways to Waste Time Online, part 1

Like much of the general computer-using populace, I’m always on the hunt for a good way to waste time online, whether I’m vegging out on the sofa at home or brazenly avoiding schoolwork. I thought I might share some of my favorite online time-wasters, in the hopes of enlightening you poor lost souls, trapped in a dark morass of lolcats, Solitaire, and wacky dog videos. So, here’s the first entry in “Amy’s Fun Ways to Waste Time Online.”

Several years ago, I was introduced to a type of logic puzzle called, variously, “paint-by-numbers”, “Picross”, and “Japanolle.” It consists of a empty grid with numbers on the left and the top. The numbers tell you the length of groups of colored-in squares: 7 3 2 1 means that seven squares are colored in, then three, then two, and then one, with at least one blank space in between each group. When all the right squares are colored in, a picture appears. It’s a good way to give your brain a workout, plus you get to make a pretty picture!

I found a website that had an online version of this puzzle. On this website it was called “Japanolle.” I liked the Japanolle website, but after a couple of years I seemed to have solved all of their posted puzzles (which displayed at random). I had to search for another site.

Thanks to the suggestions of the gaming blog www.jayisgames.com (ANOTHER great place to find time-wasters, btw), I was introduced to www.griddlers.net. The basic concept is the same, but the site has a few unique aspects:

1. You can register (for free) and save puzzles, so you can go back and finish them later.
2. Players can submit their own Griddlers, from 5×5 to 50×50 grids.
3. Some of the puzzles include triangle shapes, instead of just squares in the grids.
3. They also have “Triddlers” (which have numbers on three sides, to make a more 3-D image), “Multigriddlers” (which combine several Griddlers to make one big puzzle), and “Kiddlers” (easier puzzles for kids).
4. Puzzles are organized by themes, such as Art, Folklore, History, etc.

I like the fact that there are a lot of 50×50 puzzles–these provide a greater and longer-lasting challenge. However, I really like working on puzzles of buildings or other structures, or landscapes, but I’ve done all the 40×40 to 50×50 houses, and the smaller ones seem too easy. Of course, there are more challenging options, but I haven’t yet gathered the courage to try the Triddlers or Multigriddlers. Perhaps I will, someday.

Anyway, I highly recommend www.griddlers.net for your time-wasting amusement. “Griddle” away!

Who are the Bees?

So as part of my package deal on wordpress.com (“package deal” meaning I registered for an account in order to post on a blog with my fellow UA SLISers) I got this blog page as well. With all this open space just screaming for minimally-formatted and grammatically dubious text, whatever could I do but start a blog?

But what to name it? I wracked my brain to no avail… until I was reading this book at lunch one day. It’s called Watch the Skies!, by Curtis Peebles. It is a history of the UFO myth in the United States, from its beginnings in the 1940s to the early 90s (it was published in 1994). It’s an interesting book, written by an aerospace historian and UFO skeptic. As a fellow skeptic, yet a person highly interested in tales of the paranormal, supernatural, and plain old weird, I find this kind of stuff fascinating.

Anyway, about half-way through the book Peebles referenced a 1960s or 1970s book by a believer in which the author attempted to explain the inconsistent descriptions of UFOs, specifically their small size and impossible agility. The guy said that for the aliens to survive the UFOs’ 90° turns, they would have to have the body structure of an insect.

Specifically, he described the pilots of these UFOs as “Intelligent Martian super-bees.” Say what?!?

I found this description so delightfully bizarre that I swore I would find a way to incorporate it into my daily life. So, a few title alterations and one drawing of a bee in a UFO later, I had my blog concept. It’s slightly odd, a little wacky, and definitely kooky—just like me.

You’ll see…