Compression and Expansion

My older brother recently told me about Frank Lloyd Wright’s design theory of compression and expansion. The famed architect designed his homes so that visitors would first walk through a narrow entryway, or hallway, and then emerge into an expansive room. After a momentary feeling of compression comes the unbridled thrill of expansion.

I have a deep affection for intriguing architectural design, and Wright is one of my favorite architects. He uses the home–the foundation of modern life–as a commentary on life itself. We all travel through periods of compression: Periods of stifled hope, of narrow vision, of disappointment and loss. We often cling to the hope that expansion and clarity are coming (hopefully soon!).

Pop-Christianity often speaks of God leading us through valleys so that we can better appreciate mountain-top experiences. And yet, I don’t think God’s logic is so easily discernible. It is a simple fact of life that we all encounter seasons of compression. Whether God leads us here, permits us here, or merely accompanies us because we’ve found ourselves here is a debate in which I won’t engage at this moment. Our lives follow regular–if painfully unpredictable–cycles of compression and expansion. Of losing and finding hope anew. Whenever I find that life follows such a predictable pattern, I figure that God is involved and there are lessons to be gleaned.

The Christmas story can also been seen as a story of compression and expansion. The Jewish people were suffering under Roman occupation during the end of the Second Temple period. They were subjected to Roman taxes, to Roman meddling with their religious practices, and to many other reminders of occupation. Mary and Joseph must have felt a stifling fear–perhaps panic–about what God was asking them to do in this context. And yet, through the birth of Jesus, God took on flesh and lived among people just like us. The world was forever changed in the midst of tension and constraint: Jesus’ birth was the most fundamental expansion of life. His death, resurrection, and presence among us further serve to expand our lives.

Just last week I toured my new apartment on campus. I wandered my way through my dorm, up to the 8th floor, and was amazed when I walked inside. I felt at home, and my breath was taken away by the view! My world expanded as I imagined what I could create here in this new home–and new chapter. This blog aims to capture and document the expansion at work in this season of my life.

Frank Lloyd Wright hoped that his designs would take the breath away of his guests as they moved from compression to expansion. He wanted to exaggerate and emphasize the rhythms of life through his design. I hope that the story of Christmas, and the risen Christ in our midst, can renew such awe in you this year.