Adeste Fidelis!

"Oh come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant..."

The Christmas hymn "O Come All Ye Faithful" remains one of my favorites of the season. What a concept: faithfulness! And not just a fulfilling of obligations, but a lifelong commitment. (See my other blog for an explanation of the difference.)

What examples of commitment do we see in today's world? Business contracts, marriage vows, political promises--all of these are a form of commitment to some degree. But what sorts of commitments generate and sustain the most lasting bonds? And is it ever right to break those commitments?

I think that commitment and obligation go hand in hand. Take marriage for instance. Once engaged, there is definitely commitment involved. Now, in all of the couple's interaction--through joy and sorrow--they have an obligation to each other. So it seems that obligation follows commitment: there are required or expected behaviors after a person commits to a cause or idea or person.

This relationship is further deepened when looked at from a life-long perspective. How can we fulfill our obligations every single day, despite the rollercoaster ride that our levels of commitment may experience? This requires more than just internal motivation; in fact, I would argue it takes a higher authority than ourselves, whether in the form of law or philosophy or God. I myself couldn't sustain such commitment.

And in some interpretations, our commitment to idealism is rooted in this relationship between us and God. The word "idealism" includes the roots "id" meaning self and a form of "deo" meaning God. Is it that man becomes ideal through God?

Is that to what our commitment--and obligation--amounts?

Role Playing

Ask not of your role within the organization; ask of the organization's role within you.

That's the combined wisdom of several brothers--to first love Sigma Chi, then find your place within it as a response.

By taking active positions within the business portion of the Fraternity, do we create this love, or do we demonstrate it? And for that matter, do we encounter these schools of thought within the ritualistic portions?

I would say yes--and would also argue that this wisdom applies to more than Sigma Chi. In every form of decision-making, we must weigh several factors: our own desires, the desires of those affected, the leadership above us, the values and norms that govern our actions. I don't think passion can be created out of this complex system of checks and balances; rather, I think passion is created by our realization of this system's complexity--and our desiring to wrangle with it.

What does Sigma Chi mean to us? When we try answer this question, we wrestle with some weighty and fundamental issues. Perhaps we will never find an answer--but maybe that's the answer. Our uncertainty becomes certain; our path becomes our destination.

And that's not to say there is no hope--there is! But I think that Sigma Chi requires more than our externally-motivated world can give us: entertainment alone is not a sufficient incentive to commit ourselves to a life of service. Instead, that motivation must also come from within.

Because as the Norman Shield tells us in the Creed, our roles as true friends makes us true servants to our college, the Sigma Chi fraternity, and our own chapters.

First Steps

In my blogging experience--going back to 2004 now that I think about it--I've found that the first post on a new blog can be monumental. Pivotal. It sets the tone for future posts; it moves us in a direction--any direction. Without it, there is no writing. With it, equally empty posts are free to follow.

I'm not sure why I started this blog. Perhaps out of necessity. Perhaps out of a desire to have a path. I've already worked on one blog for a while (yes, that was a shameless advertisement) but that seems to cover just one part of me. Which is fine, of course. Yet I hope that this dedicated effort is more than just a first step.

I hope it's a journey.

And not just a journey for the sake of a destination, but for the sake of something greater. That's where the true power of the Norman Shield lies--in the lifelong search for idealism. Something unattainable, yet so influential in its gravity.

Idealism pulls us away from what we hold most dear, then pushes us uncomfortably close to what we thought we knew. It's this constant tension that forces us to constantly rethink, reorient, readjust. Literally, to do again.

But in this life we don't get a do-over. No mulligans; no practices. Just one time through.

And that's where I believe we will find the true meaning of the White Cross--and our lives. In the imperfection of ourselves and those we call brothers.