It’s been a while since we’ve had a chat and a lot of conversation has come out of the last Courage & Candor. In short, I wrote about leaving behind the busyness of “doing” faith that I learned in my youth to journey into a wild faith that has room for wandering, deconstructing, and contemplating.
Questions for discussion:
How have you left the youthfulness of your faith? What are you leaving behind and what is coming with you?
I am definitely leaving behind the certainty I strived for and craved. I am embracing the diversity of faith expressions, finding Gods goodness outside of the church and outside of the neat boxes I had for him. I find it disorienting but also so much more expansive
Love this, Jen! Embracing diversity of faith expression is becoming so rich for me these days and I just think that is the beauty of the Body of Christ, and how tragic we miss the richness of traditions when they get pegged against one another as I have experienced. We have much to learned from each other and dare I say, we can even learn from those outside the Christian faith!
Youth is fantastic—it’s full of energy, charisma…almost like mania. My youthful faith was a devout and firm belief that was ideal and idyllic. When I was young I KNEW things. God, that felt good. Those passionate debates on who was right and wrong.
I can laugh at it now while shaking my head. It was just what I had to go through to get to where I am. And now, I know, that I know some things, but even the things I think I know today may change when other things I don’t know come to light. And I feel much less shame in my life when I come from a stance of curiosity than knowing.
Knowing is like old dried out clay in its formed stated…and if you’re misshapen clay that wants/needs to be reset, some pieces are gonna need to be broken down, chipped away, soaked, and reshaped. Deconstruction is beautiful in retrospect.
Curiosity, wander, and peace—that’s coming with me. I like the practice of holding space for what I don’t know and what I don’t know that I don’t know. I’m smart but not God-level smart.
I’m leaving behind the mental reels and replays of past hurts, betrayals and heartbreaks. I’m leaving behind blame and fury!
I’m choosing moments of joy, which, when stacked upon each other create more joy in my life. I can have all the joy and still have room for grief and room for activism and room for…everything. We’re not boxes.
I love this so much, Reiko. Your image of "knowing is like old dried out clay" - that is a beautiful way to put that knowing, or at least being stuck thinking we know keeps us from entering into the grace and mystery of not knowing - this is where growth and true connection dwell. It remind's me of the 15th century thinker Nicolaus of Cusa who wrote about "learned ignorance" - in that he addressed three stages of knowing: those who don’t know that they don’t know, those who don’t know but they think they ought to know, and the last stage are those who embrace unknowing as part of the human experience. It is exactly what you are saying - having room for... everything!
I am definitely leaving behind the certainty I strived for and craved. I am embracing the diversity of faith expressions, finding Gods goodness outside of the church and outside of the neat boxes I had for him. I find it disorienting but also so much more expansive
Love this, Jen! Embracing diversity of faith expression is becoming so rich for me these days and I just think that is the beauty of the Body of Christ, and how tragic we miss the richness of traditions when they get pegged against one another as I have experienced. We have much to learned from each other and dare I say, we can even learn from those outside the Christian faith!
Youth is fantastic—it’s full of energy, charisma…almost like mania. My youthful faith was a devout and firm belief that was ideal and idyllic. When I was young I KNEW things. God, that felt good. Those passionate debates on who was right and wrong.
I can laugh at it now while shaking my head. It was just what I had to go through to get to where I am. And now, I know, that I know some things, but even the things I think I know today may change when other things I don’t know come to light. And I feel much less shame in my life when I come from a stance of curiosity than knowing.
Knowing is like old dried out clay in its formed stated…and if you’re misshapen clay that wants/needs to be reset, some pieces are gonna need to be broken down, chipped away, soaked, and reshaped. Deconstruction is beautiful in retrospect.
Curiosity, wander, and peace—that’s coming with me. I like the practice of holding space for what I don’t know and what I don’t know that I don’t know. I’m smart but not God-level smart.
I’m leaving behind the mental reels and replays of past hurts, betrayals and heartbreaks. I’m leaving behind blame and fury!
I’m choosing moments of joy, which, when stacked upon each other create more joy in my life. I can have all the joy and still have room for grief and room for activism and room for…everything. We’re not boxes.
I love this so much, Reiko. Your image of "knowing is like old dried out clay" - that is a beautiful way to put that knowing, or at least being stuck thinking we know keeps us from entering into the grace and mystery of not knowing - this is where growth and true connection dwell. It remind's me of the 15th century thinker Nicolaus of Cusa who wrote about "learned ignorance" - in that he addressed three stages of knowing: those who don’t know that they don’t know, those who don’t know but they think they ought to know, and the last stage are those who embrace unknowing as part of the human experience. It is exactly what you are saying - having room for... everything!