Drop Like Stars tour summary

Last night, I saw Rob Bell's Drop Like Stars tour, and it was so good!!!! So, here are the notes I took during it, for your study/ pleasure/ random fascination.

Rob started by talking about a man walking down a hospital hallway, a hallway where he has mourned the death of a grandson and celebrated the birth of a healthy granddaughter, all in one year. He asserted that in life, "We live in the hallways."

The topic of the night was NOT the theological reasons as to why people suffer, but, having established the fact that suffering is inevitable, Rob posed the question, "What now?"

In situations, we judge not only the "what" of something, but the "where," the content and also the context. He gave the example of the funny NYU application essay (http://www-users.cs.york.ac.uk/susan/joke/essay.htm), which is so funny mainly because of the surprising context. We have "insulators" that frame events for us, that serve as points of reference. In suffering, however, the insulators are removed and everything is different.

He showed that suffering can come not only through what we generally associate with pain and hardship but living on the other extreme, from having "everything" and being bored. He gave an example of a boy in his mom's suburban listening to rap, which was made in the heart of a risky neighborhood a few miles away. Rob asked, "Why does the boy listen to this song?" He offers the suggestion that this pampered boy wants adventure and risk because he's bored. People can be bored when they have everything. There is physical death and numb complacency. Both are bad.

Rob then stated that suffering makes you honest, employing the example of what we say when we're mad, "Do you know how I really feel?" We open up then because we've suffered, but it takes that suffering to clear away all the lies and pretenses. Suffering is rarely talked about, but then when people speak the thing that everyone else is thinking and feeling, it's like a breath of fresh air. It's as if our heart is singing, "Somebdoy has put my feelings to words." Frederick Buechner once talked about "letting the empty place inside of me open up." In suffering, we strip away everything and get to the truth that was there all along.

Then there was audience participation, and we all got bars of soap. Rob had some people over to his house to carve things out of soap, and we were holding the same bars of soap in our hands. They had to practice "rigid elimination." He then claimed that suffering has an art of elimination in it, and pieces are carved off, which hurts, but it gets at something deep in you. Rob said that there is greatness in you, but it can take suffering to get it out.

Now more audience participation: we wrote "I know how you feel" on notecards and exchanged them if we had gone through certain experiences (ex. "Change cards if you/ loved one has gone through cancer"). These experiences help us re-prioritize what is most important. In talking about these painful experiences, the audience started feeling vulnerable and emotionally-connected to one another. Rob explained that when you talk about suffering with others, the ground is holy all of a sudden. There is this bond that transcends and distance is bridged, what he referred to as an "art of solidarity."

Crosses are universally worn as necklaces because, Rob thinks, that the center of Christianity is the incarnation, the idea of God walking in our shoes. The Divine is not somewhere else; rather, the Creator has entered the world and suffered. The cross reminds us, "You are not alone." He discussed a British book about a bishop who said these words, "God came into the world and screamed alongside us." Rob argued that our greatest need is not for answers but for solidarity!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can I get an AMEN? He says that there is something divine and healing in knowing you're not alone.

He then made the distinction between owning and possessing something (ex. a guitar). People who have "nothing" (ex. Rwandans dancing in pure joy) can possess everything. Suffering puts things into perspective for us. There was one experiment done about sculptures. The participants were divided into 2 groups, instructed in different ways:
1. Make the most sculptures
or 2. Make only 1 sculpture

Interestingly enough, the group making the most sculptures did the best sculptures. Why? Because the 1 sculpture group spent more time theorizing about perfection than they did actual work. The conclusion read, "What every artist must learn is that even failed pieces are essential."

Rob used the illustration of something in his counselor's office (he admits he goes to counseling! there he said it! is that really so bad?): "The God who wastes nothing." God can use failure for something beautiful or redemptive. He discusses the Native American paintings that leave a blemish on every painting for the "spirit" to come in. We will suffer. It just happens. We must ask ourselves, "How will this shape me?" and affirm, "This, too, will shape me." From failure, we can become better/ open, or we can become bitter/ closed.

One singer with cancer offered these words of wisdom, "Enjoy every single sandwich." Rob quoted Heschel, who told young people to "work on the art of existence." We are not machines, and we were meant to enjoy our lives and enjoy God.

He concluded with this passage from the same British novel:

"Of course he couldn’t forget! No creator can forget! If the blast-off’s successful you’re hooked, and once you’re hooked you’re inside the work as well as outside it, it’s part of you, you’re welded to it, you’re enslaved, and that’s why it’s such bloody hell when things go adrift. But no matter how much the mess and distortion make you want to despair, you can’t abandon the work because you’re chained to the bloody thing, it’s absolutely woven into your soul and you know you can never rest until you’ve brought truth out of all the distortion and beauty out of all the mess – but it’s agony, agony, agony – while simultaneously being the most wonderful and rewarding experience in the world – and that’s the creative process which so few people understand. It involves an indestructible sort of fidelity, an insane sort of hope, and indescribable sort of . . . well, it’s love, isn’t it? There’s no other word for it. You love the work and you suffer with it and always – always – you’re slaving away against all the odds to made everything come right... Every step I take – every bit of clay I ever touch – they’re all there in the final work. If they hadn’t happened, then this” – she gestured to the sculpture – “wouldn’t exist. In fact they had to happen for the work to emerge as it is. So in the end every major disaster, every tiny error, every wrong turning, every fragment of discarded clay, all the blood, sweat and tears – everything has meaning. I give it meaning. I reuse, reshape, recast all that goes wrong so that in the end nothing is wasted and nothing is without significance and nothing ceases to be precious to me.”

Finally, you might be wondering about the name of the tour, Drop Like Stars. It comes from what Rob's nephew said once, that raindrops look like stars when they hit the pavement.