Behind-the-Scenes Blog

“I’d never live in a place like that!”

Those words used to cross my mind every time I drove by a subdivision where all the houses looked alike. 

But where am I now? I’m living in a townhouse in a community where all the homes have a very similar look. 

Times change, don’t they? Different needs, different priorities. 

Most of my life, it’s been important to me to be “different,” not to follow the expectations, to stand out in some way. And it started young. Even as a nine-year old kid, I had to do things out of the box. My church was holding a poster contest for an upcoming missionary conference, and all the kids were invited to participate. So what did I make? Not a flat posterboard, of course, but a mobile, a poster in motion!

That need to be unique got stronger as I got older. When I lived in California, the church I attended wanted to do something to celebrate all the creative people in the congregation. So what did I do? I got myself rather embedded in the effort (in charge, actually), and we ended up getting two streets in busy, touristy La Jolla blocked off so people could set up displays of their paintings, pottery, sculptures, weavings, quilts, woodwork, all sorts of amazing creations.

When I moved to Philly, I lived in a rowhouse, and you can’t get any more “look alike” than that. When I decided to repaint my kitchen, I had to rebel just a little bit. I certainly didn’t want ordinary colors! I had a beautiful collection of vintage Fiestaware and wanted to display these colorful pieces well. So I decided to paint my kitchen using the six original Fiesta colors from the 1930s. Not just a wall or two. But each cupboard, each door, each door handle and knob, each shelf a different color.

I brought a set of plates to the paint specialist at the local hardware store, and he agreed to hand-mix matching colors. An artist friend came over to help plan the juxtaposition of colors, which colors would look best up against each other. In the end, it was a week-long labor of love, and I loved that kitchen!

And now, here I am at age 77. Societal norms say I “should” have married, had children. Cultural norms say I “should” be retired (whatever that means!). But what am I doing? I’m living single and loving it. I started a business at age 76. I’m making graphics and writing a blog.

So where am I going with all this?

If you read the Narrative Lectionary text for this week (Philippians 2:1-13), you’ll see Paul’s prominent call to “be of the same mind.” To my ears, that immediately suggests conformity or uniformity. Which makes me all the more grateful to the commentary by Dr. Michael Joseph Brown, who was President of Payne Theological Seminary at the time, for offering this interpretation:

[T]hinking like Christ means more than adhering to established dogma or longstanding social expectations. It can, in fact, mean the opposite. God acts in ways that frequently defy our norms . . .

Having the mind of Christ means embracing the ability to choose acts that seem blatantly counterintuitive. It means something as odd as not looking ‘to your own interests, but to the interests of others’ (2:4).

These words shift my personal defying of norms to a completely different level. I hadn’t really given much thought to Christ being counterintuitive, but think about it:

• Counterintuitive = trading divinity for humanity 
• Counterintuitive = taking the form of a servant
• Counterintuitive = dying for a righteous person (let alone a sinner)
• Counterintuitive = choosing what is weak in the world
• Counterintuitive = choosing what is despised in the world

Now this gives me pause!

What if Paul’s words “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus” (2:5) suggest something different than everyone thinking alike? What if Paul is calling us to act counterintuitively, as Christ did?

There are multiple times, in our current, ongoing crises, when choosing counterintuitive actions, defying what has become the unfortunate new norm, is definitely called for! But in this blog post, I want to shift from the macro level to the micro level, to focus on the small ways we can defy hurtful norms by responding counterintuitively. Surely our personal quiet actions can follow the mind of Christ as well as large-scale rebellions.

It’s counterintuitive . . .
to have empathy rather than anger.

When was the last time someone on the road raced by and zipped in front of you, cutting you off? When that happens to me, I can get really angry, really fast. I want to shout, “What the heck are you doing! You’re going to get somebody killed!”

What if I could find a way to be empathetic rather than angry?

Maybe that person is having a really bad day. Maybe they’re mad at someone or running late for something important. Or maybe it’s something deeper: Maybe they’re driven by a need to get ahead of everyone, to be noticed, to feel as if they’re “better” (i.e., “faster”) than everyone. Maybe they’re mad, too, and just don’t know how to deal with it.

Could I defy the norm and find it in my heart to trade anger for empathy?

It’s counterintuitive . . .
to understand rather than criticize.

Have you ever walked into someone’s home and thought, ‘This is a mess!’ Or, ‘Everything in here looks really outdated.’ As much as I hate to admit it, similar thoughts, unbidden, crossed my mind recently when I entered a house that was so crowded with big, heavy furniture that I felt suffocated. ‘How could anyone live like this?’

What if I could find a way to understand people’s needs rather than criticize what I was seeing?

Maybe they are so overwhelmed with work, kids, tasks, life(!) that keeping their house in order is just not a priority, or even possible. Maybe they don’t have the time or energy for housekeeping or keeping things in order. Maybe their outdated décor gives them comfort from another era, reminding them of people they loved. Maybe they are surrounding themselves with big, sturdy furniture because it gives them a feeling of safety, of strength.

Could I defy the norm and find it in my heart to trade criticism for understanding?

It’s counterintuitive . . .
to be grateful rather than resentful.

Have you, or someone you love, ever been handed a medical diagnosis that was scary? Or perhaps you’ve suffered a destructive storm or an upending job loss. The first reaction might be fear, but somewhere along the line the reaction may shift to resentment: “Why do I/they have to go through this!”

That thought certainly crossed my mind in the last few weeks: “Why do I have to have cancer a third time!”

What if I could find a path of gratitude rather than resentment in this new medical journey?

Could I feel grateful for all these gifted souls who are treating me?

Could I defy the norm and be grateful for even the hard parts of my life that have made me, and continue to make me, who I am?

Could I feel grateful for the fierce drive to LIVE? That hasn’t always been the case. 

Defying the norms

If you’ve noticed something different about this blog post, I’m defying my own “blog norm.” Typically, my pattern has been to start with an intro section followed by three sections of reflection. But something about the subject of defying norms is unsettling. So instead of a neatly organized thought process, I’m sharing my wrestling with all the subject implies.

In this post, I have talked about my need, even as a young child, to be unique. But what if defying the norms is more than a personality trait of wanting to be different?

I have also talked about my drive to do things differently. But what if defying the norms is more than a need to oppose the expectations?

What if defying the norms is a calling?

A call to tenderness rather than tension. 

A call to clarity rather than confusion.

A call to accepting rather than dismissing. 

A call to learning rather than knowing.

A call to listening rather than talking.

A call to connecting rather than challenging.

A call to acting rather than waiting.

During the years I spent in Ted Loder’s church in Philly, and the hours I spent with him editing his books, I heard him talk many times about being a “fool for Christ’s sake,” of wanting to “experience the freedom of a fool.” It took me a long time to get this. (And, frankly, I’m still working on it.) But, mainly, I now understand it as letting go of the need to “look good” or “feel comfortable,” and being willing to choose what might not seem sensible, might even seem silly, but is, in fact, needed.

Being willing to follow my heart, even when I’m fearful. Even when the odds don’t seem in my favor.

Being willing to believe I have something to offer or to say, even when I’m timid. Even when I’m not sure it will help.

Being willing to share my struggles and listen to others, even when it might seem prudent to stay silent. Even when my shy self wants to stay hidden.

Being willing to “look foolish” for love.

As I do many times, I keep coming back to Ted Loder’s prayers. This one in particular helps me see “defying all the norms” as “the freedom of a fool” for Christ’s sake.

Loosen my grip
   on myself
that I may experience the freedom of a fool
   who knows that to believe
      is to see kingdoms, find power, sense glory;
   to reach out,
      is to know myself held;
   to laugh at myself
      is to be in on the joke of your grace;
   to attend to each moment
      is to hear the faint melody of eternity;
   to dare love
      is to smell the wild flowers of heaven.
—Ted Loder, “Loosen My Grip,” Guerrillas of Grace

So, onward, my foolish friends! We’re in this together, and God is right in there with us.

—Marcia Broucek, graphic designer for Narrative Alive

I welcome your comments about my reflections. If you have anything you want to share about your journey, I invite you to share your experience in the Comments field below.

======

Click here to read more of Marcia’s blog posts.

Click here to see the Narrative Alive graphics and sermon themes for the Narrative Lectionary reading “The Christ Hymn.”