This is unedited, but it's the surest thing I've ever written.
Coming out of a theology class so laid with meaning and depth it was magical, you have to wonder at all the other students around you milling and rushing about -- how can they survive today without a teacher like that, without hearing a lecture like the one you just listened to?
This is a journal entry about God. And about a theology lesson. It doesn't happen often, and I'm going to try to do the best I can.
~
When you begin to write about God, the words don’t flow across the page. There is always a measure of urgency and a measure of hesitation. On one hand, He is the fountain of inspiration and wonder is bursting out of you. On another hand, He is mysterious and beyond imagining. How do you begin? How can I even begin to say how being a mislead human is like in the face of such indomitable clarity? It’s like looking at the Sun, if the Sun were as big as the Universe and you were an atom - and possibly, not even then.
On a day in my last year of college, I sit between classes and try to understand what it is about this theology lecture I just came from is so distinct. My teacher was talking about the Parable of the Prodigal Son (in capital letters), drawing a bit of reflection from Henri Nouwen. My teacher and Nouwen, they were hitting on some very heavy truths, heavy enough to flatten your doubts and suffocate them, heavy enough to lock a block on the course of your life and interrupt the normal flow of things. Because God?
God’s love is grace.
I don’t know how to deal further with this truth, because it feels huge and explosive, so let me just say it again - God’s love is grace.
You know how you start out with all the idealism as a child, if you had a nourishing childhood - and sometime in the course of development, the idealist turns to disappointment and doubt and resentment? To tiredness, to fatigue? It might happen when your 15 or 50. And if you didn’t have a nourishing childhood, the tiredness comes to you so much earlier, too. You meet the sad realities of the world, like your puppy dying, your best friend betraying you, your term paper failing, your co-worker taking all the credit for a good project, your daughter or son getting into a fight with you, your parents getting sick, the bills piling up, the work piling up, the prices going up, the climate changing, the tires being flattened, wars being started, crime being committed, the grocery bags having holes, disease spreading, resources dwindling, someone sitting on your glasses, relationships turning wonky, faith and hope being painful. There are an infinite number of ways to make us sad, make us disappointed. And in the midst of all the ingenious ways the world comes up with in making us doubt and lose faith, I have begun to think that maybe, the sadness is natural. The sadness is meant to be there.
You know the feeling? The world is a place of sin and grace, beauty and terror. It happens on a huge scale that can wipe out sub-Saharan tribes, on small scales that can make you break the tip of your pencil in frustration. And the awareness of this sadness, these things that make us miserable, keeps us on our toes. Keeps us from trusting too much, hoping too much, attempting too much, risking too much. Not just in terms of effort and time, which can lead to some of us being government leaders of Olympic athletes or multi-national CEOs, and we think, wtih all the wisdom in the world, lead to us being eminent human beings. But I am talking about something more than time and effort at stake here, something infinitely more precious. What we don’t trust, hope in, risk enough, is ourselves. Our hearts. Who we are. It might sound like a bunch of New Wave ideologies, but this is what the theology class earlier has just taught - reminded? - me of. That life was made for living as selflessly as possible, that the world is God’s creation. That there is nothing that can separate it from His grace, His purpose, not your sins or the ills of the world. You know? We are weak beings who have been made strong by love. This is an unarguable truth.
And this love, the best thing about it - it’s not something He runs out of, and it’s not something we have to be scared of losing. We can’t lose God’s love. We can’t. And why not? Because we didn’t earn it. There is nothing you can do to deserve God’s love, and I keep on thinking it goes the opposite way - there’s nothing you can do to lose it either. And this should give us all the courage to face a world which has been made with His design and where all these other bits of creation resonate with His love. In that world, fear would have no place. Fear would have no place because God’s love, which is a perfect love, casts out fear. You are afraid when you can lose things - your life, your possessions, your family and your friends, even your self-concept - but the most important thing, the thing from which everything else comes from, derives its meaning from, ends up in, you cannot lose. That beautiful un-losable thing is God's love. And if it's not something we can lose, then all you actually have to do is trust it, and live without fear. True living is living with the surety that nothing in this world or beyond can defeat you, that nothing in this world or beyond can scare you, that nothing in this world or beyond can match up to the experience of being loved by God. This is why, I think, Jesus went out and was ready to die for his brethren, some strangers, his enemies. When you have already been given the most precious and valuable gift of all, His love, what else should you be scared of losing?
I am reminded of Paul's statement in Philippians 3:8 - "What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things." I do not know if this necessarily means he was a brave man, or if he was just smart enough to realize how all his fears are so much dust and shadows.
And in the midst of leading such unsure, such doubt-filled, such fearful lives, this truth might be harder to grasp and live with and accept, than others. As Nouwen said, there are too many other things in the world which make us doubt our value, our goodness, the point of it all. I know fear and it is a powerful feeling. It is a persistent feeling, too, can stick to your hands and your brain and other parts of you that you live with, can stick to your heart and grow from there (remember that Baobab tree, from The Little Prince? Fear is like that baobab -- an ancient, persistent feeling devoted to consuming more than what our hearts can handle.) And once it has taken part in our lives, the fear begins to stop us from living as much of a meaningful life as we could. My professor said, if you want to live a mediocre life, live in fear - and I understand what he means. I do not trust the talents that God gave me, so I will do something I have to work for, like medicine. I am not sure that I will be able to sustain the life I want to lead, so I will go into corporate law. I do not trust that I have been created as a person of worth, so I will look at others with the same doubt and disregard. I am not sure that I deserve to be loved, so I will refuse a relationship. I am not sure of who I am, and I am afraid of not knowing who I am, so I will go out to the world and define myself with its standards.
And this world was not meant to define us, because this world did not make us. You know? This world is not the final destination. Yes, it is creation and a thing of beauty, but it is not meant to end there. And since the world and its finiteness is not the final word on things, since destination is somewhere else, since God’s love is not limited to this world - we do not look around here for definition, for meaning, for worth. We look at Him, and His love, in order to define ourselves. I am a creature created by God in a world that is driven by His purpose. I am saved and I am loved. Because I am loved, I cannot be defeated, and because I am loved, I am worth loving. And if I am worth loving, small as I am, then all of creation is worth loving, too. If God loves me, I should go out there and do likewise.
It’s so simple.
God loves us. We are worth loving. So is everyone else. Go out and live a life of love, therefore.
~
And, that is quite simply enough, it. To lives lived incredibly. To loving nonetheless.
This is a journal entry about God. And about a theology lesson. It doesn't happen often, and I'm going to try to do the best I can.
~
When you begin to write about God, the words don’t flow across the page. There is always a measure of urgency and a measure of hesitation. On one hand, He is the fountain of inspiration and wonder is bursting out of you. On another hand, He is mysterious and beyond imagining. How do you begin? How can I even begin to say how being a mislead human is like in the face of such indomitable clarity? It’s like looking at the Sun, if the Sun were as big as the Universe and you were an atom - and possibly, not even then.
On a day in my last year of college, I sit between classes and try to understand what it is about this theology lecture I just came from is so distinct. My teacher was talking about the Parable of the Prodigal Son (in capital letters), drawing a bit of reflection from Henri Nouwen. My teacher and Nouwen, they were hitting on some very heavy truths, heavy enough to flatten your doubts and suffocate them, heavy enough to lock a block on the course of your life and interrupt the normal flow of things. Because God?
God’s love is grace.
I don’t know how to deal further with this truth, because it feels huge and explosive, so let me just say it again - God’s love is grace.
You know how you start out with all the idealism as a child, if you had a nourishing childhood - and sometime in the course of development, the idealist turns to disappointment and doubt and resentment? To tiredness, to fatigue? It might happen when your 15 or 50. And if you didn’t have a nourishing childhood, the tiredness comes to you so much earlier, too. You meet the sad realities of the world, like your puppy dying, your best friend betraying you, your term paper failing, your co-worker taking all the credit for a good project, your daughter or son getting into a fight with you, your parents getting sick, the bills piling up, the work piling up, the prices going up, the climate changing, the tires being flattened, wars being started, crime being committed, the grocery bags having holes, disease spreading, resources dwindling, someone sitting on your glasses, relationships turning wonky, faith and hope being painful. There are an infinite number of ways to make us sad, make us disappointed. And in the midst of all the ingenious ways the world comes up with in making us doubt and lose faith, I have begun to think that maybe, the sadness is natural. The sadness is meant to be there.
You know the feeling? The world is a place of sin and grace, beauty and terror. It happens on a huge scale that can wipe out sub-Saharan tribes, on small scales that can make you break the tip of your pencil in frustration. And the awareness of this sadness, these things that make us miserable, keeps us on our toes. Keeps us from trusting too much, hoping too much, attempting too much, risking too much. Not just in terms of effort and time, which can lead to some of us being government leaders of Olympic athletes or multi-national CEOs, and we think, wtih all the wisdom in the world, lead to us being eminent human beings. But I am talking about something more than time and effort at stake here, something infinitely more precious. What we don’t trust, hope in, risk enough, is ourselves. Our hearts. Who we are. It might sound like a bunch of New Wave ideologies, but this is what the theology class earlier has just taught - reminded? - me of. That life was made for living as selflessly as possible, that the world is God’s creation. That there is nothing that can separate it from His grace, His purpose, not your sins or the ills of the world. You know? We are weak beings who have been made strong by love. This is an unarguable truth.
And this love, the best thing about it - it’s not something He runs out of, and it’s not something we have to be scared of losing. We can’t lose God’s love. We can’t. And why not? Because we didn’t earn it. There is nothing you can do to deserve God’s love, and I keep on thinking it goes the opposite way - there’s nothing you can do to lose it either. And this should give us all the courage to face a world which has been made with His design and where all these other bits of creation resonate with His love. In that world, fear would have no place. Fear would have no place because God’s love, which is a perfect love, casts out fear. You are afraid when you can lose things - your life, your possessions, your family and your friends, even your self-concept - but the most important thing, the thing from which everything else comes from, derives its meaning from, ends up in, you cannot lose. That beautiful un-losable thing is God's love. And if it's not something we can lose, then all you actually have to do is trust it, and live without fear. True living is living with the surety that nothing in this world or beyond can defeat you, that nothing in this world or beyond can scare you, that nothing in this world or beyond can match up to the experience of being loved by God. This is why, I think, Jesus went out and was ready to die for his brethren, some strangers, his enemies. When you have already been given the most precious and valuable gift of all, His love, what else should you be scared of losing?
I am reminded of Paul's statement in Philippians 3:8 - "What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things." I do not know if this necessarily means he was a brave man, or if he was just smart enough to realize how all his fears are so much dust and shadows.
And in the midst of leading such unsure, such doubt-filled, such fearful lives, this truth might be harder to grasp and live with and accept, than others. As Nouwen said, there are too many other things in the world which make us doubt our value, our goodness, the point of it all. I know fear and it is a powerful feeling. It is a persistent feeling, too, can stick to your hands and your brain and other parts of you that you live with, can stick to your heart and grow from there (remember that Baobab tree, from The Little Prince? Fear is like that baobab -- an ancient, persistent feeling devoted to consuming more than what our hearts can handle.) And once it has taken part in our lives, the fear begins to stop us from living as much of a meaningful life as we could. My professor said, if you want to live a mediocre life, live in fear - and I understand what he means. I do not trust the talents that God gave me, so I will do something I have to work for, like medicine. I am not sure that I will be able to sustain the life I want to lead, so I will go into corporate law. I do not trust that I have been created as a person of worth, so I will look at others with the same doubt and disregard. I am not sure that I deserve to be loved, so I will refuse a relationship. I am not sure of who I am, and I am afraid of not knowing who I am, so I will go out to the world and define myself with its standards.
And this world was not meant to define us, because this world did not make us. You know? This world is not the final destination. Yes, it is creation and a thing of beauty, but it is not meant to end there. And since the world and its finiteness is not the final word on things, since destination is somewhere else, since God’s love is not limited to this world - we do not look around here for definition, for meaning, for worth. We look at Him, and His love, in order to define ourselves. I am a creature created by God in a world that is driven by His purpose. I am saved and I am loved. Because I am loved, I cannot be defeated, and because I am loved, I am worth loving. And if I am worth loving, small as I am, then all of creation is worth loving, too. If God loves me, I should go out there and do likewise.
It’s so simple.
God loves us. We are worth loving. So is everyone else. Go out and live a life of love, therefore.
~
And, that is quite simply enough, it. To lives lived incredibly. To loving nonetheless.