Grid::Blog::Via Crucis 2007 - Yes, With the Help of the Lord
Presider: Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God?
Assembly: I believe in Jesus Christ, his only son our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary…
See, already I’m having trouble.
Two years ago I started only sometimes believing Jesus was actually God. I don’t know if my rational post-enlightenment self can really hang on to the literal interpretation that Jesus was God, a deity. (Oh my poor in-laws are having such heart attacks right now. Try not to panic my loves. It comes and goes — sort of like mono.)
It all started when one of the pre-school moms’ discovered that I was an ordained minister and working at a church. This often causes consternation because whoever has just learned that I’m a woman-of-the-cloth immediately does this fast-paced internal inventory to find out how often they have cussed in front of me, scanning their memory too see if they have ever drunk one too many margaritas in my presence. This time though, the preschool mom, Kristin, was deeply intrigued and enthusiastic. She told me how she grew up Jehovah Witness but left it long ago because of it’s inflexibility around exactly what one believed. “I mean,” she said, “you don’t believe Jesus was actually God and stuff, right?” I replied immediately and a bit to brightly, “Yep. I do. The whole hook line and sinker.”
At this point the topic was rapidly changed.
When I answered Kristin, I realized immediately that I spoke too eagerly and with false bravado. My chipper Girl Scout-style response caused something like a warning to ring inside me. Not a brazen warning like a fire alarm, more like one of those trilling little bike bells people ring when they need to pass you on the municipal bike path. I knew intuitively that my belief wasn’t actually as a solid as I’d like to have Kristin believe. I loved Jesus. I was fully committed to following him as the guiding figure in my life. But did that mean I believed he was literally divine? Furthermore, did it matter?
Well, given that I was officially still pastoring and already attracting a lot of flack from my blog readers for various and sundry topics, I certainly wasn’t emotionally ready to take on the question. So I did the most logical thing. I stuffed it.
Not too long after that I was at the Emergent Convention in San Diego. During one of the general sessions we were singing praise songs with the drum circle from Tribe and with the truly artful Harp 46. Our very own monkity monk, Lindell, was VJing film of whirling dervishes, which was beautiful, inclusive, and holy—and for the first time in a long time I was able to worship with a group of Christians without feeling vaguely phony. Then the godfather himself, Brian Mclaren began to lead us in the Apostles creed. I knew this by heart and had recited it every Sunday since I could read. The creed was bedrock for me, what I could count on when other things about my religion went sideways. And here I was, at a conference where I would be teaching people for crying out loud, when suddenly I could no longer make this pledge with full conviction. I leaned over to Jen and whispered, “I can only wholeheartedly ascribe to about a third of this.” She laughed and said, “I know! But just say it to be nice to Brian.”
We treated that moment with levity, but the Apostle’s creed is pretty basic Christian stuff. For years now, whenever I’m in doubt or lost in hardship I remember the words of my teacher, Eugene Peterson, who told us “say the creed.” What do you do when you can’t say it with conviction? Where does the bedrock belief about Jesus go?
I ignored those questions for awhile, trying on various ways of believing like you try out a new pair of running shoes—trying to find the fit and function of what I believe. Then this year when Lent came and Jesus loomed large and lovely and radical and doomed and victorious (all in 40 heady days!), I started thinking about Kristin, and the bike bell, and where my belief life has traveled these past few years. And here’s where I’m at:
Most days, I’m not sure that Jesus was really God – at least not in the literal way my evangelical upbringing has required me to believe. God as in “everyone is made in the image of God and carries God’s self within and maybe Jesus tapped into that more fully that anyone else”—sure, that I can hang with. Sometimes my ablity to believe transcends my reason and I, like doubting Thomas, sink my fingers into his scars. But mostly, I wander around blithely being apostate.
So if that’s all I can attest to, that sometimes I believe Jesus is God, why hang in there? What’s the point of being a Jesus-y Christian-like person at all?
Well, I like being part of a very ancient story. The mere oldness of it has merit and meaning to me. It suits my romantic heart to practice a religion, and this one with its gore and glory has captured me since I was a child. It would be foreign to me to live without this story. As foreign as if I sudden stopped believing that I had a dog named Andy as a child, or that we camped every vacation growing up, or that reading saved my life in Jr. High. I know these things to be true. I know these things to shape and guide me. I cannot imagine a life without them.
I’ve experienced things that cause me to believe that God is real, that Jesus is loving, that there is a power and a being beyond my rational experience. Inexplicable healings. Intense emotional happenings that can only be described as “a religious experience.” The knowing of things I should not be able to know. Images of Jesus’ presence and compassion to me that were so specific to my own life situation they could not be ignored. These things are as real to me as the chair I’m now sitting on and the table I’m working at. I cannot deny their reality—and they are embedded in this story of Jesus, and God, and Jesus being God—so at some level I have to believe. The poet in me wants Christianity, needs Christianity to be true. And my poet-self is a real and as valued as my rational self. Reason doesn’t hold the market on truth. Mystics see real things too.
Also, I think the story of Jesus as God is true—maybe not factual per se, but true in its core and in its being. It’s true and beautiful enough for me, an intelligent thinking person to build my life around it. Jesus has merit. His life as a radical and a lover, an activist and a healer, is bedrock to who and whose I am. It works for me as a meta-narrative. It inspires me.
This Holy Week, I will go to the cross, cover it with rose petals and rosemary, holy water and tears. I will delighted at my children as they clap and jump up and down at the Easter processional. I will feel warmth and joy as my youngest daughter clasps her hands over her heart, closes her eyes, and turns up her face to receive the flung water droplets that remind us of our baptisms. I will gleefully, and from memory, say the creed. For I am embedded in a story as ancient as days, held by generations and ancestors, and happy in the knowledge that whoever or whatever Jesus is and was and is–in the very midst of his be-ing–I am loved.
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wow you can write sensationally - and sense sational
Thank you for this wonderful post. I continue to find it moving and inspiring that some of the religious figures I admire most are able to be upfront and honest about this stuff. (I’m thinking here of Real Live Preacher, who has written beautifully about this as well.) I think this is an important kind of ministry — letting people see that even clergy wrestle with the balance of faith and doubt, and that it’s possible to let these things inform our religious lives in powerful ways. Blessings to you!
Rachel,
I think “Yes, with the help of the Lord” is all any of us can say.
Sometimes I DO miss certainty. It was so easy….easy to know what to think, easy to know who your friends were, and were not.
Thanks for showing that faith is bigger than certainty.
“sometimes my belief transcends my reason”
Sometimes I think that is the essence of Christianity.
“say the creed”
I know I risk sounding like a brain-washer, but I say it most when I believe the least. Somewhere in those words I hit bedrock, and I find a place to stand with all my doubts.
“Reason doesn’t hold the market on truth.”
There is truth in story for me. Far more truth, than fact at times. And in the story of the God/man, when I read it, it resonates in my bones like all the good stories.
Thank you for this.
Hi Rachelle,
I’ve been a lurker for a while and really enjoy reading your blog. I appreciate hearing this story of how you came to where you are. This spurs me to ask some good questions of myself. I lean a bit more to the rational side and am struggling with that very question of why be a jesus-y christian-y person at all. There’s some part of it all that I’m hanging on to. I’m not sure why. I’m challenged by your sticking with it and saying that at some level you have to believe.
hi there Abbess,
I too have been lurking over the past few months from across the water in Victoria B.C where monkfish has become an inspiration from afar (but not that far). I too really enjoyed your post.
Last year, I had the opportunity to hear Richard Rohr in Ottawa and he kicked off the conference saying a big part of the problem of the church is that we were converted by Jesus before we were converted by the trinity! Talking about a way to kick off a conference! For many the only thing more difficult to swallow than Jesus’ divinity is the relevance of the trinity! But what he said was that the trinity is the best means we had to deal with the transformative, relational, dynamic nature of divinity. He said we can call the “persons” whatever we wanted, but to pay attention to the flowing, dynamic, relationship between form and formlessness. When we’re comfortable with the relationship between the three persons of the trinity, we are less tempted to try to fix Jesus’ nature into a fixed, static box. Once we see the trinity as a dynamic relationship and not stagnant positions, maybe we can begin to see the creeds as love songs full of heartfilled exaggerations and less like legal contract.
Thank you for this site, and your gentle reminders of the places relatedness in all of this.
blessings to you,
Michael Burtt
“we can begin to see the creeds as love songs full of heartfilled exaggerations and less like legal contract.”
wow. that is so helpful! thanks michael.
I really want to thank you for your honesty in this post. I’ve wondered,
from time to time, what you really think, especially when you’ve used
phrases like “Jesusy” or “I love the guy.” I’m also a little sad, though,
because I wonder just how much such views are permeating the emergent
scene. Even your comment that Jen agreed with you about the struggle
you were having, and hasn’t she been a known voice in emergent as well?
Best,
“Letting people see that even clergy wrestle with the balance of faith and doubt, and that it’s possible to let these things inform our religious lives in powerful ways.”
My question becomes how is it that someone continues in the ministry of Christ, without adhering to the divinity of Christ? Aren’t there other religious cults, with long histories, that you would find just as appealing? It seems to me that there is something other than God that motivates your desire to affiliate with Christianity.
According to the scriptures, the apostles, and all the true saints, are commended for their faith, primarily their faith in Jesus as the Son of God. The bible says that without faith it is impossible to please Yahweh.
Sheena,
PostModern Christianty–of which Emergent US is one organizing force–at its best allows for people to come to Christ, not with water-tight theology, but with honesty and hunger. Jesus was not very concerned that people pass some sort of doctrinal tests. In fact, the people he usually critisized were those who could spout theology all day long, but who ignored the poor, the outcast, and the marginalized. (ie, the pharisees). Rather, Jesus spent most of his time talking with those who came to him and teaching them, through (stories)parables and examples, how to extend the love of God to the world — especially to those who were culturally side-lined. Jesus never said the “good news” was that everyone was 100% sure of who he was, or how he functioned. Rather, he taught again and again that hte good news was the kingdom of God, a kingdom of shalom (wholeness, peace) was here. I’m more interested in living out the loving life of that kingdom than making sure everyone is convinced of traditional Evangelical theology. I don’t think Jesus is sad about that. I think he’d say “good and faithful servant” to anyone who followed his living example of healing the sick, feeding the poor, and combating legalism.
My personal mission, my path of obedience is not to teach doctrinal orthodoxy, but to inspire people to a Jesus-exampled orthopraxis, which I what I teach at Emergent conventions.
Hope that’s helpful.
Shalom,
Rachelle
Billy,
Hum, there’s a lot in your questions. I’ll try to answer a little, if you’re truly interested. (Often people who write in the vein your are venturing into are more intrested in condemning me than engaging in a teaching/learning dialogue with one another. For that reason I often don’t reply. But I’ll give it a shot one more time.)
Firstly, let me say that you’ve expressed a different understanding of scripture than what I hold. It’s okay with me if we disagree on this — postmodern theology recognizes the breath and depth of Christian understanding and allows us to hold two truths in one hand.
FYI, my understanding of scripture is that our work, as Christians — little Christs/Jesus folowers– is to work to realize the good news of Jesus, which was and is that the kingdom of God is at hand, and that we should live out the reality of that kingdom. Jesus showed us, through his teaching and example, that that this kindom is one of nuturing wholeness among those we encounter. (That’s what he did while he was here.) This kingdom living includes healing, caring for the marginalized, and telling our family stories via the scriptures.
That’s what’s most important, to me personally, as a follower of Jesus. That by his inspiriation and teaching, through God’s power, and with the direction of the Holy Spirit, I live a life like Jesus’.
Secondly, you question my motivation as to why I affliate myself with Christianity. In my experience, men who disagree with my theology and praxis often accuse me of impure motivations. I wonder about this, and often think that this is because men sometimes find power/powerful positions in Christianity and think that this is what I’m after. Anyone who know me knows that is is not the case, as I’ve steped away from any small position of power that might have been afforded to me as a woman in the Evangelical church. I abdicated title, salary, and post. So nope, not in it for the power.
The fact of the matter is that most of the time I’m actually not movtivated to affliate myself with Christianty at all. Most of the time I want to be un-affliated with Christianity b/c of the damaging, un-shalom like versions of Jesus’ teachings many (not all, but many) churches present to the world. (My new tshirt slogan: “Jesus got ‘jacked!”) The bulk of my ministry is taking care of people who have been seriously marred by “Christianty” in ways Jesus would never condone.
I can abide disagreement between the branches of the church, but where the church activtely works against justice I can’t play nice. ‘Cuz you know, ‘let justice roll’ is a pretty big Jesus theme … not to mention the prophets, but that’s another topic. At any rate, I only want to be affliated w/Christianty as a minister and follower of Jesus, NOT as a caretaker of an instution. Sometimes the institution allows me to do that, sometimes not. I, and others with me, walk in a border land. We’re waiting to see what becomes of it. Possibly, reformation….
Finally, you asked if there weren’t other religious traditions that would work as well for me. Nope. Not really. I’m all about Jesus. Divine or not, it doesn’t affectively change his message or life– not for me anyway. And remember, sometimes I believe he’s divine, sometimes not. It just depends on how much science I’ve eaten that day. Also, there are many Christians, especailly in the mainline traditions, who hold Jesus’s divinty, and even his reserection, as metaphor — but in my experience this in no way diminshes their faith, or thier Christ-like living.
Hope that helps/intrigues/satisfys(?).
Shalom,
Rachelle
Hi Rachelle,
I’m a lurker, come out of hiding. I stumbled on your blog months ago and was immediately drawn to your story of faith. I love this post. I long for the courage to speak what I know and feel. Although I’m not enmeshed in a traditional church anymore, I find that the small house church our family is a part of also doesn’t give me the freedom to question and wonder and find out what faith truly is (well maybe they would, but I’ve honeslty never tried). Namely the belief in something that is unbelievable. Your courage to be open with your audience (inlaws included … I think mine would fall down dead if they really knew what I believed) is inspiring and makes me want to do the same. Maybe some day ….
Hi Rachelle,
I’m a lurker, come out of hiding. I stumbled on your blog months ago and was immediately drawn to your story of faith. I love this post. I long for the courage to speak what I know and feel. Although I’m not enmeshed in a traditional church anymore, I find that the small house church our family is a part of also doesn’t give me the freedom to question and wonder and find out what faith truly is (well maybe they would, but I’ve honeslty never tried). Namely the belief in something that is unbelievable. Your courage to be open with your audience (inlaws included … I think mine would fall down dead if they really knew what I believed) is inspiring and makes me want to do the same. Maybe some day ….
One more thing … please never stop blogging about this stuff. Your insight and stories and suggestions for raising children with a faith that makes sense to me is like a glass of cold water after a hard run. I gulp it down and pour myself some more.
Hi, Rachelle,
I guess I am a lurker myself. I share your views of Jesus, even down to the way I sometimes think he is divine and much of the time I think he is not, and his message and example are the same regardless. I continue to attend Christian worship because I am a follower of Jesus, but I am not able to recite any of the creeds with much honesty. To me, the relationship is the essential thing, not believing articles of belief written by others.
Monica, Sheena, Michael, Jennifer - let’s all hang in there. Maybe if we find enough others like us, we can feel brave enough to stop lurking and come out into the open.
Meanwhile, Rachelle, I have been enjoying your blog for quite a while now and I hope you never give it up.
hey rachelle
i guess it depends who / what you believe god is. i think there’s a power at work in the universe on the side of life and all its fulfilment [to quote sallie mcfague], and i’d call that god… and within that understanding, i think jesus might have been the personification of god. i think he embodied god.
but i don’t think god is a being… god’s a force or a power… as pete rollins says, god is what happens in the aftermath…
Hi Rachelle,
Thank you for this post. Really. On some days I think I would agree with you and other days I would protest loudly. I have been at a place of being unresolved in the synthesis of some of my orthodox beliefs and those that would be considered unorthodox and yet held by many in the mainstream denomination of which I am a part of.
I recently went to an American Baptist church which is very peace and justice heavy. I joined the adult Sunday School which was doing a study on the Gospel of Mark. The main source of Biblical scholarship and authority they were using to decipher Mark was “The Five Gospels” published by the Jesus Seminar. I sat and listened mostly, very uncomfortable that only the most liberal scholarship had any sort of authority in the room. As if “liberal = closest to reality.”
At the same time, I would probably sit in the same kind of uncomfortableness in a stridently Evangelical setting where the pre-millenial pre-tribulation rapture scenarios were promulgated as a foundational truth of the Bible.
Basically, I’m having a crisis of “why is it either or?”
I find myself between two sides of the Christian coin, one being doctrine isn’t as important as pursuing justice and peace in the spirit of Jesus (and let’s quietly brush aside the talk of sin, Christ’s atonement, and so forth, or at least offer up a shiney new interpretation of it) and the other side is blessed assurance (pardon the pun) that all of our beliefs are correct but who cares about the earth and the poor because Jesus is coming soon so look busy.
I’m glad that you are honest that sometimes the Mystery of things like Jesus being both human and divine is tough to swallow. That shows you are a human and as a minister it also makes you relatable. I wrestle with a lot of things, too, but I still hold onto them. I believe Jesus was both at the same time. I mean, why the heck not? We can’t go back in time and prove it one way or the other, we can’t do a DNA analysis on his remains to show that, wow, Jesus had like 10,000 chromosomes or something bizarre like that… LOL. Okay, that’s over the top, but you know what I mean. It’s like you said, “Mystics see real things, too.”
I guess my point is that when the Creed, as wonderful as it is in bedrocking us to the core of our stories as Christians, isn’t strong enough to hold us, Jesus is and we can pray “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”
Shalom to you!
one of your best EVER! much peace…