Welcome to a new community.
My intention is for this to be a place where we can explore why we believe what we do about God.
There are many authors writing brilliantly about what we believe and the impact those beliefs should have upon the kind of people we become in the world. My desire is not to simply add one more voice to the already existing conversation. I hope instead to provide space where we can explore the undercurrent that moves the flow of our faith, the unseen forces that control its speed and direction. I want to ask questions about not only how we develop theologies, beliefs, and worldviews but also why?
What, psychologically, is our primary motivation for having and holding our most sacred thoughts about God?
I’m not so much interested in, nor am I the most qualified to speak to, how exegetically or hermeneutically we arrive at certain tenants. While I know our beliefs are our best interpretations of concrete information, like cultural context, exegesis of the Greek and Hebrew language, corroborating historical documents, and more, there is actually a lot more going on than we realize. Other forces affect our interpretations–things like unconscious fears, shame, insecurities, power, privilege, pride, oppression—and which side(s) of it we’ve experienced, our families of origin, birth order, quest for anxiety reduction, natural temperament, social standing, socioeconomic status, and most of all, our human propensity away from uncertainty and ambiguity and toward perceived clarity.
These are our blind spots. I have them, and we have them—individually, corporately, institutionally.
They are like the area between the sheet rock and walls, gaps we vaguely know exist but haven’t explored, defined, or made use of. But they are taking up real space inside us, guiding us toward, and away, and around, and changing the way we see and interact with God, each other, and ultimately ourselves. They are shaping how we portray our faith to those who don’t share it, and even our ability to see ourselves first and foremost as the Beloved.
Sometimes we find ourselves unexpectedly in these deeper tunnels of ourselves. Sometimes we push on a bookcase inside and hear something twist, and discover that behind it is a whole other room, new space, that has always been in us but we have never known what lived there. And when we aren’t able to see our secret passageways alone, sometimes we have others who can come in and look behind a few dusty picture frames or under a few loose boards for a lock or latch, just the right question or prompt, that can illuminate a new internal room.
And slowly, we develop capacity.
We become bigger.
And we see a bigger God.
That’s the point of this journey, isn’t it? That God gets bigger?
I have no idea what musty rooms I’ll explore in myself along the way, or what we’ll be able to discover together. That will depend on who shows up and what tools they bring along. I hope you’ll join us.