Perhaps 13 years ago, when Keith, a Methodist minister who companioned me down the dark road of my divorce, heard me tell him that I intended to become a Methodist minister, the first words he said to me were "Count the cost." He didn't explain himself much. He looked me in the eye, saw my determination and in his eyes I saw both joy and sadness. What he had taught me, shown me over a year or so was so exciting and life-changing that I was sold on it. I had to be part of the solution, not part of the problem.
Of course, I really didn't tell him about "my call," as they say in the Methodist Church. I chose to not tell him some things because I decided that he could not appreciate or understand them. I love Methodists. They are practical people. I wanted to be more like them for many good reasons. Yet part of my make up is very contemplative, very charismatic (dare I use such a term?) and deeply spiritual. When I read John Wesley, I see a man slain in the spirit. I see a man who finally 'got it' and then tried to make it work in the Anglican Church. They thought he was a bit looney.
I have no desire to be thought of as looney.
So how to you actually reveal a truth given to you when you know the world will think you are just full of crap? How do you gain respect, if respect is the goal at all...rather, how do you give credence to an idea or thought that lacks proper substantiation by authoritative figures?
I always like to blame Aquinas for all of our problems that involve faith. He tried to make belief into a science. Or so I thought. Turn God into a mathematical statement and everyone will accept it. Ah, yes, God exists. God is worthy of our attention. I have a paper here that tells me it's all true. It's OK to believe...
sigh.
We want proof that a miracle happened. Something that supercedes (sp?) science. We want proof that we do not have a scientific explanation for what happened. Then we call it a miracle. Huh?
How about breathing? Yes, we know more about how the plumbing works. We can repair parts and we can even define what caused 'death.' Yes, it stopped working. Or it kept working. We can even take parts of one person and put them into another and make some people live longer. Big whoop. We even have an evolutionary line of thought that says one event caused another. BTW, the Catholic Church accepts the idea of evolution...if you want to read about it...don't ask me where, but I read it. (As if that mattered, anyway...sometimes we argue over the silliest things. God smiles and knows we will grow up eventually...and the devil rubs his hands together and thrills in knowing that the more time we argue about who's right and wrong, the less time we spend actually loving one another...which is what I think God wants us to do most...ALL of the time)
So how do you go about sharing something "out there" when anything even near to out there gets taken to the cleaners...literally. Literally, we take the gospel and water it down and wash it and make it all pretty and easy to accept...when the demands of it are clear enough on their own merit. I personally think women got a real washing in Paul's interpretation of Jesus' words, but I've grown to accept things as they are now and I know that the Kingdom Jesus talks about doesn't place women in a lower position. I don't think Paul even intended things to be so interpreted. He was politically savvy enough to get the message out so that it could be heard. That was his genius. But sometimes I think people place Paul above Jesus in authority. I'm not sure that is a good thing.
That being said, I have no war with the Roman Catholic Church. In the beginning when I was young, I wanted justice. I wanted the Church to recognize my value, my worth. That was my pride talking. I have learned that it just doesn't matter. My being recognized or even acknowledged for what I might do or not do is completely irrelevant to creating Kingdom Living. It's kind of like the Jews clamoring for a Judge...and then saying...no that's not what we want. We want a king. And God gives them a king...and they say no, that's not what we want. So God gives them Jesus, and they say again...no, that's not what we want.
If a person is speaking the truth, the heart will know its true. It doesn't have to come to us like a Steven Spielberg movie, or from Charlton Heston...we will know it is true because it will feel old inside us, like something we knew once, before we got lost...and it feels like we are finding it all over again and there is a kind of joy and grieving that comes with it. Like Josiah finding the scroll. The truth will cut us, but it will heal us.
Have I wandered to a place that makes no sense to you at all? What I am finding is that all the things I thought I wanted, I don't want anymore. I can bend without sadness or regret to the Church that raised me. Here is the place where I love God best. That's what God told me. That was an old truth I always knew was true, but I couldn't see it because I got lost. God can use me right here. God is using me right here. And when He is done using me, He can throw me away if He wishes. I have finally grown into a space where everything He chooses for me, I celebrate...even if I don't want it or it hurts.
I must stop here. I haven't told you much of anything yet, have I? Again, I keep thinking about it. How do I share what I have learned? How can I tell you that it's all going to work out? How can I tell you that you must be involved? How can I tell He wins?
Yet, He does. He wins. And that's all that matters, really.
Love,
Cindy
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