Advent for those deconstructing their faith - Day 14

Ok, so I take back what I said about the wilderness and kingdom of God and all that. It feels too simple, like I’m trying too hard to fit life back into a box again. It’s so hard to not want to tie everything up with a neat tidy bow. I want answers, I want to know what’s next for me. I want to find something to hang my hat on, to cling to, to say, “this I know for sure.”

When did I make truth my idol?

When did I make certainty my God?

What if I never have the answers – can I be ok with that?

A friend commented that I don’t need to have everything figured out all at the same time, and I wonder – what if it never gets figured out? I mean, Jesus, you lived a “perfect” life, totally connected to your Father, and you still ended up hanging on a cross asking why God had forsaken you. If you didn’t have life all figured out, then how can *I* possibly expect to understand this whole mystery of being human?

What the heck is the point of it all anyway? I have ONE LIFE, I can control practically NOTHING, I might as well just live life for myself, right?

Right?

I’m so tired of being neither here nor there. This in-between is exhausting and uncomfortable and I don’t belong anywhere. I just want things to feel normal again… for me to understand how to live this new life, how to fit in, how to understand what the heck I’m supposed to be about.

In all my wonderings and frustrations, I think – is this period of deconstruction what it was like to be a disciple?

One minute, you’re walking on water, thrilled with the sensation of rising above the fray, focused entirely on the moment, with all that you once thought of as truth being challenged, and you are ecstatic to be living this life of adventure where anything seems possible… the next minute you’re back in the boat with everyone else, soggy and waterlogged, embarrassed and annoyed that you fell on your face in front of all your friends, and everyone makes fun of you, saying that you have no faith.

What the frick, Jesus??!!?!

I’m doing the best I can here. You know, my faith, my identity has been shattered, it’s freaking 2020 with a pandemic, and I’m sitting here wanting to know if I’ll ever walk on water, when all I can see is the waves and the crowds of people milling around expecting me to feed them, expecting me to be patient and kind, tugging on my robe as though I have any power to make anything happen, wondering if they, too, can witness a miracle, and I’m sick of it. I just want to be me. I don’t want to represent YOU. I don’t want people to look at me and see YOU, I want them to see ME. I want them to see that I have needs, that I have desires, that I am not just an extension of YOU, but that I am a person who exists in this world, who takes up space, who is more than just a follower, but a woman who wants to lead and MAKE waves rather than calm them.

*sigh*

Just when I think I’m over all this evangelical stuff, it raises its ugly head and reminds me that the barbs are deeper than I thought. I’m sick of easy answers, but I find myself still wanting them. I invite the challenge of confronting the world as I know it – of braving the wind and waves – but at the same time, staying in the boat feels safer and warmer than dipping my toes in the water.

But, I’ve already made my decision to get out of the boat! I am defiant and angry and sad and confused and standing here in the storm wondering where in the hell you went. I SAW YOU. I KNOW YOU ARE OUT THERE. YOU CALLED ME HERE. YOU TOLD ME TO DO THIS. Where did you go???

It wasn’t my choice to leave the boat. It wasn’t my idea to get wet and cold and be out here all by myself. I never would have left if something that looked and sounded an awful lot like YOU hadn’t told me to come.

So, where are you?!

Are you in the wind and the waves and I just can’t hear you? Did you leave me here? Did you lead me into the wilderness, this wildness, only to abandon me? Is this some kind of a sick joke? You tell me to leave my life behind and follow you and then you go and die and expect me to just pretend like everything is ok?

I’m trying to make sense of all of this. Are you here or not? Am I following you into this wilderness or not? What the heck is this all about?

If this is the Kingdom of God, I’m not sure I want it, because nothing is certain, my steps are unsure, the foundation is shaky, the depths are unfathomable and the situation feels totally out of control.

I am sinking and sinking into the depths and it feels like you are standing there able to save me, knowing I am drowning, and you are watching and doing nothing.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

O you of little faith…

A hand is reaching out, extended to me – Hope in the midst of what feels like death. Who does salvation belong to?

You?

Me?

Does it really even matter?

I saved myself by getting out of that boat. I responded to your call by leaving all that was safe and familiar. You saved me by commanding me to abandon my comfort zone. Does the call and response eventually just morph into the same thing? At some point east becomes west… at some point, I am farther from security and certainty, and closer to the mystery of you. Have I crossed that threshold yet?

It seems that the indecision lies with me. I don’t know whether to turn back and run towards the comfort of principles and creeds, or to move ahead into the unknown. So, I sink, down into the depths, seeing the outstretched hand, and I wonder whether my willingness to drown is greater evidence of faith than my desire to be rescued.

Words to contemplate:

Upward Gravity
O fall with me
all the long way down
and so reach me
through the call that rises
impossibly
as the upward gravity
of love.
Meister Eckhart, “Book of the Heart: Meditations for the Restless Soul” (as collected and translated by Jon M. Sweeney & Mark S. Burrows)

The 2020 Advent Series