Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Aloneness, Loneliness and Self-Denial (Self-Denial Part 2)

So if the type of self-denial which Jesus calls for and which Paul attempts to describe is to bring a sense of freedom, what in the world does this mean for someone like me who lives alone? I’ll be honest that I do really try to live and be for others even in the times of my aloneness and my singleness, but it is really easy to either despair when others do not also give of themselves (and therefore making me feel like an unpaid laborer) or to even become self-righteous in my attempts of self-denial. Being alone can make one more prone to loneliness, but it is important to remember that we can also feel lonely while in a crowd, a marriage or a Church setting. So I realized that even though self-denial is meant to be other-oriented, I can still practice and receive the benefits of self-denial when I am alone so that it can tackle my loneliness and hopefully keep me from the edge of despair.

Here is a scenario. I hate doing the dishes. Absolutely hate it! I think that the easy answer in this culture is to say that one day I will be married or live in a communal setting where someone will do the dishes out of love for me. I could say I will do the cooking (which you hate, and I love) and you could do those pesky dishes because you either like it or don’t mind it. I could say that we could do the dishes together and experience the fruit of quality time over something that is menial, exchanging the negativity of something I do not like for something that is life-giving like conversation, presence and co-suffering. Or I could realistically say that I would do the dishes, something I hate, out of love for someone else. I could do that as a means of showing my love by doing something I don’t like or I could do it because I don’t want someone I love to have to do something that I would not want to do myself. All of these things are fine and good in themselves, I do believe, but at the end of the day as a single, living-alone person, the dishes are my responsibility.

Currently my dishes are piled up high in the sink and around the kitchen counter. I have a brilliantly mapped out 2 week plan for cleaning the house on my fridge which many other singles (and not-so-singles) compliment me on. But the reality is that I have never accomplished my brilliant plan! It seems that singleness and living alone gives me the advantage of getting to live solely unto Christ and the Church (not a bad thing at all), but sometimes I still think that it gives me the right to live unto myself in a way that compromises my discipleship. Let me take a step back to say that one of the beautiful advantages of living alone is that if there is a crisis at hand (sickness or death in the family) or something of importance that I need to give my time to (research or volunteering with an organization that builds up the Church and the world) then I do not have to worry about keeping the house clean or even functioning for that matter in way that a home with other people may need. But the point that I am trying to make here is that sometimes we can let the freedom of being responsible only to ourselves be a means to keep us from learning to follow Jesus by diminishing our egos.

Granted I know that sometimes the marriage partnership and even communal living can provide certain benefits and various meeting-of-needs that come with mutual submission and mutual self-denial. I also know that the pain of the single (especially when friends are married and find most of their fulfillment in that relationship, other friendships and duties) is the pain of feeling worn out, giving of yourself all day with no one besides God to pour into you while the rest of the world seems to get the fulfillment of God and others. When we get home, we feel justified in saying, “now it’s time for ‘me.’ I don’t want to go home and do the dishes—and I don’t have to because not doing it affects no one else but me.”

If the road of discipleship is self-denial—especially a self-denial oriented toward others—I am obligated to practicing this virtue not only toward others, but to practice it in a way that orients me toward Jesus. I don’t think that necessarily means I should get off my rear and announce to the world that “I am doing my dishes for Jesus,” that just sounds silly and over-religious. But I do think that there may be something to learning self-control as a fruit of the Spirit. What if I were to catch myself when my mind says, “I don’t want to do that.” Or what if I was able to let Jesus save me from the reality of despair in a world of isolation (even when the Church plays into that reality) by saying “Instead of comparing myself with others, I will not grow weary in doing good, I will not grow weary in following Jesus. Rather, I will do those dishes for the very reason I don’t want to do them—because my self-absorbed nature says that I don’t want to do it.” I think that that is a very different reason than saying that I will “pick myself up by my boot straps and do it,” different than “I’m a strong, confident woman who can take care of myself, thank you very much,” and different from saying “I’m an uber-responsible android who believes in doing things perfectly and I will keep myself busy to avoid feeling the depths of my humanity” This is about self-control and dying to the self.

I’m going to try this over the next few weeks. Of course my gut instinct is to always go hard-core immediately, but I think I’m going to start by doing one task a day that I don’t want to do. It might be doing the dishes. It might be cleaning the litter box. It might be writing an email that I fear writing for some reason. It might be turning off the television. It might be heading to the library to get some work done. It might mean taking the time to cook a healthy meal rather than an adequate one. But I’m going to try it…recognizing when there is something that I don’t want to do (which is good for me) and doing it as a means of expressing allegiance to Christ and denial of self.

**Self-denial doesn’t mean not having an identity. If self-denial is the way of discipleship not only because Jesus and Paul said so, but that Jesus also was the embodiment of this virtue (Philippians 2) then it involves acknowledging what you are giving up and what pains you are taking on. It is knowing how much we love a Snickers bar that brings pain when we give it up. It is someone else knowing how much we love that Snickers bar and therefore give it up for someone else to have and to enjoy which communicates our love for that person. This is the beauty of self-denial. I think my current attitude is finding that we can practice self-denial even when others are not around to receive the benefits. I can practice self-denial in a way that will pave the way for better relationships, a better view of myself (because I am not letting my ego get the best of me…and my chores will be done and my home will be prepared when someone wants to come over and is in need of love or if they want to come and love and enjoy me), and ultimately a cleaner heart that can love God better.

***Also, if my gut reaction is to alienate myself from others because of the stench of their self-absorbtion, tackling my own ego problems can be helpful for me. 1) Taking the log out of my own eye first in accordance to Scripture 2) Loving the sinner, hating the sin 3) Re-establishing relationships 4) Gaining humility by recognizing that I do the very things I condemn others for

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