I've received a relatively large response from my last post about stepping down from ministry. The conversations I'm having with people is making me realize that I am in the middle of a really big learning opportunity. That wasn't my goal at all. I'm no storm chaser. I really like good weather, a gentle breeze, mild temperatures. I try to order my life so as to prevent, predict and avoid storms. Sometimes of course, there's nothing for it but to squint your eyes and run out into the deluge letting the rain and wind soak and freeze you until you can make it to your next refuge. What I'm seeing in this moment is that I now have an opportunity not everyone has to make some unique observations. If I activate all my little sensors and send them out into the storm I'll be able to collect lots of valuable data. In real terms, if I can remain alert to what is going on around me, I will be able to gain wisdom and insight that will help me and others know God more.
So what am I learning?
Lesson #1: I am not alone.
I have had more than one conversation over the course of a couple of days with pastors who are feeling what I'm feeling or have been there recently. Whether you are a pastor or not it is likely you can identify somewhat with what I've been experiencing. It must be built in to the human experience that we have times of wandering and wondering about our identity and future and purpose. Most of us bear these things silently thinking we are the only ones and it is best to keep our strange problems to ourselves. Every good person considers himself honest, but the truth is that real honesty requires more courage than most of us can muster on a consistent basis. True honesty isn't "telling people what I think"; it is exposing what I am. I think that one of our greatest fears is that people will see us for who we really are. Remember the Garden of Eden? Adam and Eve's first fear after eating the fruit was that they would be seen, even by each other. She was formed out of his rib for crying out loud, and yet they didn't want each other seeing their privates! When we aren't honest about who we are--and let's admit it, that's close to 100% of the time-- we are covering our nakedness. We don't want people to see who we really are. In fact we don't even look in the mirror to see for ourselves who we really are. The tree was supposed to give us the knowledge of good and evil. Perhaps in doing that it also gave us fear. Fear of knowing ourselves. Fear of being known by others."Every good person considers himself honest, but the truth is that real honesty requires more courage than most of us can muster on a consistent basis."
What this fear amounts to is loneliness. We can exist right next to each other without really knowing each other because we've fashioned thick coverings of fig leaves. We are so protective of our coverings that we spend a fair amount of energy policing other people's coverings. If we see someone exposing themselves our fear of exposure makes us go on the attack reaffirming our conviction that concealment is the best policy. Better to hide in loneliness than to reveal ourselves and get attacked. Underneath the fig leaves we actually have nothing that needs hiding. This knowledge of Good and Evil was supposed to (as promised by the serpent) introduce Adam and Eve to a greater reality. Instead it plunged them into the nightmare of pretend independence from God. Taking the fruit wasn't like waking from a dream enlightened. It was like stepping into a dream from which you cannot wake up.
The truth, of course, is that we are not alone. We're just separated. We are walking around in close proximity to other people stuck in the same dream state as us. If we can rouse ourselves for a moment we can smile at each other and say, "Oh, it was just a dream." That's what love is. It's when we, for a moment, forget the fear that we carry and give someone the permission to know us and to be known. This requires honesty and graciousness. Honesty to admit our fears and graciousness not to attack when someone lets their guard down. It's tricky business, but Jesus shows us the way.
Lesson #2 is: I am alone...kind of.
I know, lesson 2 seems to contradict lesson 1. Stick with me. When I was struggling with my decision to step down from pastoring my church, I sought lots of advice and opinions and books. There was a great amount of wisdom and examples and suggestions, but it always boiled down to a stark reality -- only you can decide what you are going to do.Being a child means that you don't get to decide what to do. At its core, being an adult means that you have to decide what to do. Adults who don't decide for themselves lack what we call maturity, and we all struggle with it. As much as teenagers want the freedom to chose their own path, a few years later they are likely to want someone to "just tell me what I should do!" In Christian culture this is expressed in the large market of books for young adults on the topic of finding the will of God. Our hope is that if we can discover the hidden map and find our "true destiny" then we can stop worrying with knowing what to do. Once we find that one key truth "God's Will for My Life" then the rest of life's decisions will fall into place effortlessly.
The problem with this kind of thinking is that it is completely made up. The Bible does tell us that God has plans, but there are no examples of people in the Bible discovering that plan then implementing it to completion. In fact the particular passage you probably think of when I say, God has a plan for you, is addressed to a nation in exile not an individual. Jeremiah 29:11 is a reassurance that those in exile should not give up hope because of their present circumstances.
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| Part of "the plans I have for you"... |
When we accept the fact that we are ultimately alone when it comes to making decisions (no one else can choose for you) then we are free to embrace the consequences for our actions. The truth is that it might not matter what you chose. What will matter is the person you are. Are you willing to commit to your decision and deal with its consequences whatever they may be? If so then you can stop worrying about "making the wrong choice." We are never asked to predict the future. No one can know for sure what the outcome of their decisions will be. We are, however, commanded to live faithfully the best we know how. No one else can do that for us.
Jump back to the Garden story with me for a minute. The second fear that pops up (after the fear of seeing and being seen by each other) is seeing and being seen by God. We laugh and make fun of Adam for trying to hide from God in the garden. The thing is, Adam is doing what we all do. As irrational as it is, we have this burning hope that we can make God think something that isn't true. We think that we can out maneuver God with our prayers and good works and make him think we look so much better than we do. How silly we must look to him! God must watch us with his hand over his mouth suppressing laughter at our efforts to dress up in fig leaves and hide behind rocks and bushes. Oh, the naive children we are, thinking that God cares more about our appearance than our real selves. If He was truly displeased with us why would He endure our continued existence? Why would a creator who spoke the world into existence suffer the slightest of annoyances much less the detestable defiance that we have perpetrated with our indulgence in evil? Yes, God's wrath is real, but God's anger is not the same as our anger. We most often equate the foolish, prideful ravings exemplified by grumpy overworked bosses or frustrated, judgmental parents or whatever other hurt and imperfect people we see around us. God's wrath is terrible yet beautiful. God's wrath brings destruction, but it is a healing destruction. The consuming fire described in the Bible is a refining fire. It burns away the evil, death and fear making way for light, life and waking. That's why I sometimes picture God as being amused with our efforts to fool him. In the moment God showed his displeasure and his judgment. His righteous wrath moved with purpose and precision (and still does, but that's another, longer post). Our sin is no laughing matter, but as serious as it is, God is much greater. He alone can look death in the eyes and laugh with the joy of knowing his power to overcome.
So when I say we are alone, it is only kind of true. We are alone, in a sense, in the presence of God. In our relationship with God it is as if we are the only one in the room with him. He knows us completely, and He isn't hiding any part of himself from us. We are alone in making our decisions, but God is there with us never leaving us. He doesn't protect us from our mistakes, but he stays with us and suffers with us through them knowing that in the end He will reconcile all things. Being alone in the way I mean it, is not what makes us feel lonely. We can be alone and not feel lonely. Loneliness is the longing we have to see and be seen. It is the hunger for love.
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Okay, well I went deeper than I meant to. I just wanted to jot down a couple of life lessons that are on my mind in the midst of drastic change in my life. In my sufferings and doubts I should remember that I am not alone, and when it comes to making choices I should embrace the fact that no one else can decide for me.
