I was a fundamentalist not because of the beliefs I held but because of how I held them: with a death grip. It would take God himself to finally pry some of them out of my hands.
Before we do anything wrong and before we do anything right, God has named and claimed us as God’s own.”6.
Maybe the call of the wilderness is to ask us to think more deeply, more broadly, more adventurously, more boldly, about the maybes.
Maybe one of the lessons is that the wilderness is a place where we can’t rely on the familiar, which can seem like a hardship but might also be an invitation-an invitation into the reality of our existence, an invitation into the truth of our vulnerability.
My fingers felt awkward. They weren’t used to moving in these ways. They weren’t used to making creases and folding with precision. My eyes had to adjust as well, because they naturally gravitated to the painful words that I knew were on these pieces of paper. Forget about my heart; you know how I said this was a Lenten practice: It’s called a practice because it’s an act of training, a discipline to do something you’re not naturally inclined to do.
Something tells me that we might all be a bit more careful, a bit more gentle, if we knew how our words can travel through another’s ear and linger for a long time in their soul.
The reality is that we weren’t created to go, go, go, or to do, do, do. We were made to be.
Anyway, most of the openhearted wanderers I’ve encountered are looking not for a bulletproof belief system but for a community of friends, not for a spiritual encyclopedia that contains every answer but for a gathering of loved ones in which they can ask the hard questions.
Wholeheartedness means that we can ask bold questions, knowing that God loves us not just in spite of them but also because of them – and because of the searching, seeking spirits that inspire us to want to know God more deeply.
God became vulnerable. I can’t help but read the story this way. God was humbled, choosing to put down roots in a particular family at a particular time in a particular place.
Even on those days when I struggle to believe in God, I cannot deny the existence of my neighbor.
God invites us to take the risk of love.
The one thing upon which the Gospels agree is that the first witnesses to the resurrection of Jesus were women.
Prayer is a sacred space in which God invites us just to be – to be imperfect, to be messy, to be a ball of conflicting emotions, to be all of who we are this side of heaven.
May the church be resurrected to the way of humility. May the church be resurrected to the way of curiosity. May the church be resurrected to the way of mercy. May the church be resurrected to the way of service. May the church be resurrected to the way of wholeness. May the church be resurrected to the way of the cross. May the church be resurrected like Jesus. May the church be resurrected by love.
Systems that teach people to disengage, whether emotionally or intellectually, do not produce healthy individuals. Nor do they foster thriving communities. Nor do they even honor the One who created the minds, souls, and bodies that we’re constantly trying to tame.
When we are healthy, 3s are productive, persuasive, and inspiring. When we are unhealthy, we become obsessed with success and with winning and with destroying the competition.
Zerrissenheit is a German word that means inner strife, fragmentation, or, as the philosopher William James memorably translated it, “torn-to-pieces-hood.” Most of us know a thing or two about Zerrissenheit; even if we have no idea how to spell it or pronounce it, we’ve felt its shattering effect in our own bones. It refers to the sense of fragmentation and disjointedness we experience whenever we operate out of fear and shame.
Theologian Leonard Sweet suggests that there might actually be something less than faithful about an uncritical posture toward Scripture. In Jewish culture, he notes, “it’s an act of reverence to ask questions of the story. The Jews are confident that the story is strong enough to be tried and tested.
I am a Christian because of women who knew a thing or two about what it means to be vulnerable, to suffer, to work within systems that were bent against their flourishing, to endure hierarchies that were designed to forestall their triumph.
I am a Christian because of women who showed up. I am a Christian because of women who said yes.