Convicted

A year ago next month I made the comment to my then roommate and partner in crime, (who alas, is now just my partner in crime) that the people in our department think deeply thought theological thoughts ...or something along those lines anyway. We laughed about  it, or at least the wording, but it's honestly true. Between the three ordained Presbyterian pastors, people who have finished a Masters (in theology or otherwise) or are just starting one, and just plain deep thinking people, we're probably one of the most educated departments around. Which leads to very interesting conversations and discussions about theology, the church, and anything else you'd care to wonder about. 

And when I got here a year ago next month, that was a very intimidating environment to step into. I grew up in the church, so I'm pretty well Bible-literate, but the sheer amount of theologically invested conversation had in CFM threw me for a major loop. Especially because my first real introduction to it was on our staff retreat, which was all about rest. I don't know about you guys, but deep theological discussion doesn't make me feel very restful, although it does make my brain want to take a nap.

And yet here I am, eleven months later, having my very own deeply thought theological thoughts, which I will now be sharing with you. Partially because I'd like you all to see how very greatly God can work in someone's life (I would never have dared to assume I could even share such thoughts even six months ago), partially to prove to myself that I can actually write and discuss such things since I'm about to be doing a lot of that over the next several years, but mostly because I myself am still in the midst of pondering these deeply thought thoughts, and by writing them out and discussing them I hope to think about them more, while giving my brain a chance to chew on some new thoughts about them. These ones are getting a little stale. Also there may be just a little "look how cool the thought I thought are" thinking in there somewhere, but please think of it as an extreme eagerness to share rather than vanity. Much appreciated.

So today's deep thought will probably span several posts. Because it's a really big idea and because this post is already kinda long. Here goes.

As most of you know, and I've probably mentioned in this blog before, I hate the bipartisan system. While I agree that discussion happens best when there are multiple groups and opinions, it is way too easy for us to point fingers and cast blame or judgment when there are only two sides to an argument. I also agree that more than two sides in arguments make for very messy arguments, but what in this life isn't messy?

And as much as I hate the bipartisan system in the houses of our government, I hate it even more in the house of our Lord (yea, I am pretty cheesy, but what can you do?) Now before you go assuming this is going to be the same old tired rant about how divided the church is I'd like to take a pause and ask that you withhold judgment until I'm done.You promise? You're sure? Ok, I'm taking you at your word here, so let's stay on our best behavior. Remember this post is about God, he's probably reading it over your shoulder so no sour faces or inappropriate hand signs. I would also like to take this opportunity to point out that while I hate labels, I'm going to use "conservative" and "liberal" in today's post to serve as a purpose and device, and also because I enjoy being a little facetious whenever humanly possible.

Last night I sat in worship completely ignoring the pastor for the deeply thought thought that was gnawing, had been gnawing at my brain for days: The understanding of what it means to be right. To know who and what God is. To be convicted. Today I had a conversation with my new supervisor and old coworker about a similar topic and so now have a mostly formed thought and some fully formed questions. What is it about not knowing that scares you? What is it about your convictions that you can't let go of without losing your faith? What about someone else's opinion terrifies you to the point that to even acknowledge it means letting go of everything you hold dear?

Because I have come to the conclusion that the answers to those questions could solve a lot of problems the divided, broken, gimpy church has been having for a while. I think those answers are what Rob Bell was looking toward when he wrote Love Wins.And  I think those answers are some of the hardest we'll ever have to find.

Because conservatives sit in parlors and discuss wild liberals with no rules and no respect for the Creator without ever really seeing those people who feel God's love deeply, and have been cast out by good Christian people who read too literally the book with all the answers. Those who have been mistreated by warriors in God's armor, too busy being self righteous to see the need for love and compassion and grace. Those who have no love for others who bear Christ's namesake because they have been told they're wrong, or sinful, or going to hell. Those who have so much conviction and righteous fury for groups that they may or may not be a part of but cannot be heard above the calls for repentance and death.

(Still withholding judgment? Hey, you're the one who promised)

Because liberals sit in coffee shops and talk about close minded conservatives who can't open their hearts and and just spout the religious babble they've been spoon fed from birth without really seeing the hardworking men and women who strive to raise their kids in the best way they know how. Who hold tightly to their understanding because letting go, even for a second, means being unsure, and being unsure is not an option. Who stand up for what they have because they are terrified of losing it, because they know what it cost to have at all.

(How about now?)

Because no matter what side of what debate we find ourselves on, there is always a voice shouting back. Someone to tell us we're wrong, or stupid, or our hearts aren't right. And it makes us feels awful. And we wonder how the person yelling at us can possibly claim the same faith we do.


And then we walk across the street, or down the block, or drive to church, or to school, or to the airport. And we meet someone whose convictions clash with our own. And they won't listen.  And our convictions bubble up inside us and we rant and we rave. And we tell them how wrong they are. And they don't agree. Refuse to agree. And what they're saying goes against everything we believe. And we can't believe God would keep this person around with all the nonsense they're spouting. And we think to ourselves how stupid they are and how wrong their heart is.


And then we pause.

And then we wonder how we got here.


And then we ask ourselves some questions:
What is it about not knowing that scares you? What is it about your convictions that you can't let go of without losing your faith? What about someone else's opinion terrifies you to the point that to even acknowledge it means letting go of everything you hold dear?

Because being convicted and being right are not the same thing. They're not even close. No one on this planet knows Gods heart. They think they do. They talk like they do. They spout religious babble and stand up for causes and write books like they do. But they don't. There was one man, ever, who knew God's heart completely, and whenever people asked him about it he gave a definitive and resounding, Guess we'll see.

And see we will. But I have to say, everybody's gonna be disappointed if we don't learn to listen to each other. Really listen. Not for the sake of proving you're right. Or arguing back. Or telling the other person how dumb they are. But really listening.

Because listening doesn't have to mean you agree. You don't have to buy in. Having the thoughts in your head is not going to turn your brain to much or Satan. But you could learn a lot about someone by listening to their thoughts and convictions, and isn't knowing each other in Christ kind of part of our job?

The right hand may not know what the left is doing but it knows there's a left hand. And they may not agree with each other's jobs at all, but that doesn't make either one less Christ driven or less valuable to the overall health of the body (I may be mixing metaphors here, but oh well).  And who knows, you may just learn something about yourself, or hey, maybe even God. Wouldn't that be amazing, if we could learn about God by listen to other... oh wait, isn't that what we do every Sunday?