I remember being told by well-intentioned Christian people that questioning is doubting.  Faith [salvation, and good works] was all that I needed to go to heaven.  Well, for an intellectual, that’s kind of hard.  My mother and I laugh that there’s nothing worse than an ignorant Christian.  But, I think an arrogant Christian is definitely more problematic.  After all, the fall of man was a result of an act of Pride, no? 

As someone who has spent the last 3 years of my life in deep study of theology and the mysticism of God, I can say that on my spiritual journey I have uncovered more questions than answers.  I am 100% certain that God is Love.  I have faith that love is reconcilitory, and I believe that Jesus was the great reconciler.  I believe that we are to love others, to reconcile our differences with others, and to bridge gaps to live in community–even when we don’t disagree with one another.  I also believe that a child likely has more access to the divine mystery than I.  After all, she isn’t trying to figure it out–she just is. 

Luke 10:17-24. I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants.

You can’t possibly mean that, Jesus. Give me a break. I’ve spent most of my life reading the Bible and books about the Bible. I’ve done church history, ethics,  and liturgics. The theological and devotional classics–I’ve nailed them all. I know all the right words, even words like eschaton, soteriology, and anamnesis. I even know about Buddhism, Islam, and all that New Age stuff. I have managed to become (forgive me, but it’s true) rather wise in spiritual matters. And people have taken notice; they respect me as an informed and articulate spokesman for your cause, Jesus. And now you tell me that you have revealed the really important things not to the wise and intelligent–which I have labored to become–but to infants?

“That’s it exactly. You’ve got it–finally. Your wisdom and intelligence can be somewhat helpful, to a point, occasionally, but only if you first make like an infant. What’s the main difference between your approach to life and an infant’s approach to life? Get your polished mind around that. Then come and see me again, and we’ll talk.” (from Forward Movement)

I am thankful for the mystery, and for not trying to understand it all.  I am thankful for the ability to question, and the drive to seek answers.   I am thankful that I am reminded that thinking that I know and pushing my will is the impediment to spiritual growth.

The last two days have been meditations on the valuing and honoring of differing opinion on theological perspective.  In acknowledging God in the neighbor, there must also be an acknowledgement and honoring of the neighbor’s interpretation of God’s will.  I struggle with this daily.  I want to frolic about beautiful woods with babbling brooks holding hands with everyone who celebrate my same liberal ideals.  I raise my eyebrows at those who are ultra conservative and fundamentalist, and scoff at their intolerance. 

Now on one hand, I will give a justification–I see where intolerance has led in the past being a triple minority.  This history is always in my head, although I know that we are constantly moving forward as a society (even when they are teeny tiny baby steps).  Therefore on the other hand, I know that much of my disillusion is reactionary, out of fear and sadness.  My thoughts are that we are to champion the collective actions and inactions that reflect humility and graciousness in the compassion for others… sometimes, this might even align with our own actions.

Romans 14:1-12. Welcome those who are weak in faith, but not for the purpose of quarreling over opinions.

There are two sides to that. On the one hand, we must take care that what we regard as acceptable behavior–eating meat? moderate consumption of alcohol? prayer in schools? having an abortion? entering into a same-sex union? jumping to another church because of theological differences?–is not a scandal to others. Many Christians today, from every hue of the theological spectrum, charge boldly forward, head held high, banners aloft, singing the songs of Zion, but with nary a thought about whether others among the faithful may see their behavior as scandalous. “If someone doesn’t like what I’m doing, it’s their problem, because I know what’s right and I’m tight with God,” they say. There’s not much humility, not much graciousness, not much of the spirit of Jesus in that.

Then there’s the other side of it. Being totally enamored with our own opinions also carries the  risk that we’ll be the ones to take offense at anyone and anything we don’t like. It is pharisaical arrogance to assume that people who do things we wouldn’t do are–always, beyond question–enmeshed in evil. There’s not much of humility, graciousness, or the spirit of Jesus in that, either.

I recognize and repent for my pharasaical arrogance.  I pray for reconciliation and community.  I acknowledge that my pride is oftentimes at odds with Your will.  I thank You for grace and the gift of the great Reconciler.

I’ve meditated on today’s reflection for two days now.  In the last two days, I still must admit that I am still processing the simplicity and profundity of God is love. 

I have erroneously made love into what I pleased in the past by using God and love interchangeably.  If I am correctly reading and interpreting God to be Love, everything comes from that source of love.  Everything.  All cries for love are cries for the source from which we all come.  Making love seems to be a misnomer in that sense, for one cannot make God.  But, can one bring God into that act?  Yes, I believe so.

Giving up, releasing, dying to self, humbling… these are all terms that one could associate with weakness.  Certainly in our relationships, we don’t want to give our needs up for others… Or  do we?  My most fulfilling relationships have been those in which we’ve submitted to one another.   Just the other day, one of my Angel sisters revealed to me that while I’d been crying in her ear, she had been dealing with her own trial.  She never once told me that until she knew I was okay.  I believe I’ve done that for other people–I hope that I have.  We surrender our present thoughts and worries to carry those of our loved ones.  Isn’t that a humbling experience to be granted that trust?  Do we not temporarily give up a need to carry that of a loved one? 

I was reminded today that “The greatest protection is a loving heart.  Protecting yourself, you protect others.  Protecting others, you protect yourself.” (Buddha)  Perhaps then, it is also true that the greatest act of righteousness is to radically love others.  In radically loving others, we are radically loved.

1 John 4:7-21. God is love.

Many people take legitimate comfort from these  three words, but we may also take false comfort from them by reversing the subject and the subject complement, making it “Love is God.” That way, love comes first and defines God. We can then make love to  mean whatever we please and tell ourselves that’s  what God is–sympathy, kindness, beauty, family loyalty, patriotism, emotional attraction, puppies and kittens, whatever. Those things are all commendable, but they have little to do with “God is love.”

Start with God, not with love, and let God define love. John says here that love is seen in that God “sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.” These words suggest that love is something God does, not something God feels. The word “sacrifice” further suggests that it is a giving up, a humbling, a dying. And the word “atoning” suggests that it brings  together parties otherwise estranged.

“We also ought to love one another,” the text says. That means what characterizes God’s love for us should also characterize our love for each other. “God is love” is something we do; it is our giving up, our humbling of ourselves, our dying and uniting with those estranged from us. Are we doing “God is love”?

I pray for the grace to submit myself to those whom I love.  I ask for forgiveness for the times in which I did not.  I pray that I am there when my loved ones need me, and that I remember–not my will, but Yours–to act out of Love.