Breaking Through the Ceiling

Core Value, Creativity, God, Growth, Life 0

What if that which we dream of being is actually God’s will for us? What if we are the ones who hold back, setting an arbitrary limit on what God’s power in our life will be? What if we are the ones who decide “this is too good to be true”? What if we turn back God’s gifts over and over and over again? It is possible that this is the case.

Most of us do not believe that the sky is the limit. Instead, we have a ceiling that we set, which is the height we think of as God’s will for us. Do we consult God when we set this ceiling? No, we ordinarily do not. We set it with the help of parents and friends, well-meaning spouses and therapists. We try to set our ceiling at a “reasonable” height. We do not want to get our hopes up and have them dashed. We fear being too big for our britches, and so we define as grandiose many plans that may be well within our grasp with the help of God.

— Julia Cameron, Faith and Will, p. 138-139

Widening the Scope

Faith, Forgiveness, God, Redemption, Universalism 0

People come to Jesus in all sorts of ways.

Sometimes people bump into Jesus,
they trip on the mystery,
they stumble past the word,
they drink from the rock,
without knowing what or who it was.
This happened in the Exodus,
and it happens today.
The last thing we should do is discourage or disregard an honest, authentic encounter with the living Christ. He is the rock, and there is water for the thirsty there, wherever there is.

We are not threatened by this,
surprised by this,
or offended by this.

Sometimes people use his name;
other times they don’t.

Some people have so much baggage with regard to the name “Jesus” that when they encounter the mystery present in all of creation — grace, peace, love, acceptance, healing, forgiveness — the last thing they are inclined to name it is “Jesus.”…

What we see Jesus doing again and again — in the midst of constant reminders about the seriousness of following him, living like him, and trusting him — is widening the scope and expanse of his saving work….

Whatever categories have been created, whatever biases are hanging like a mist in the air, whatever labels and assumptions have gone unchecked and untested, he continually defies, destroys, and disregards.

— Rob Bell, Love Wins, p. 158-160

Hearing from God

Faith, God, Guidance 0

Nevertheless, those of us who value a transcendent dimension to life hesitate to believe that God is silent. Many of us, on some level, in ways we can’t fully articulate or prove, have experienced God’s presence (or what we believe to be God’s presence) and in that experience have found direction, joy, and meaning for our lives. It also seems apparent that even those people who believe God has revealed the divine will in a manner different from that to which we are accustomed have also experienced that same direction, joy, and meaning, despite our claims of enjoying a unique revelation of God.

This lack of consensus suggests that the one thing we are most dogmatic about (divine revelation) should be the one thing about which we are least dogmatic.

Because we are most inflexible about that which cannot be empirically proven, we become defensive and unyielding, believing God is best served by dogged insistence rather than thoughtful seeking. There is a curious tendency I have seen repeated time and again: the more adamant we are about God, the less likely we are to embody the traits we believe God values — love, compassion, peace, wisdom, and patience. All of these virtues are forsaken in our efforts to refute the spiritual perspectives of another.

— Philip Gulley, The Evolution of Faith, p. 17-18

Adrift in Uncertainty

Faith, God 0

There is another choice: To admit that the best of any religious tradition depends on the choices its adherents make on how to live despite what their holy books “say,” not because of them. “But where would that leave me?” my former self would have asked. “I’d be adrift in an ocean of uncertainty.” Yes, and perhaps that’s the only honest place to be. Another name for uncertainty is humility. No one ever blew up a mosque, church, or abortion clinic after yelling, “I could be wrong.”

— Frank Schaeffer, Sex, Mom, and God, p. 73

A Life of Adventure

Beauty, God, Joy, Life 0

We can take any category of creation and learn a great deal of The Creator through the simplest of surveys. Take dogs: Weimaraners, boxers, Jack Russells, Pomeranians, golden retrievers, Airedales, bulldogs, beagles, Irish setters, whippets, Dalmatians, black Labradors, basset hounds, Irish wolfhounds, Lhasa apsos, Rhodesian ridgebacks. We can see humor and diversity. We can see dignity and grandeur. We can see playfulness and loyalty. We can see beauty, intelligence, curiosity, stamina — more.

Just to drive home the point, let us consider another category, the flower. We have: rose, peony, tulip, lilac, lily, daffodil, aster, delphinium, dandelion, orchid, iris, violet . . . Once again we see infinite diversity and tenderness. We see sheer creative glee. Might not the same tenderness and glee carry over to the creation of humans? Might not human beings bring to God a wonderful opportunity for creation? And how much more exciting, how infinitely interesting when you consider that we, too, carry within us the potential for creation. God just might take a lively interest in our unfolding. God might be easily persuaded to aid and abet us in plans for expansion — after all, God is by nature expansive and so are we.

Perhaps when we say “Thy will be done,” we are committing ourselves to a life of adventure. Perhaps God’s will involves expansion and not constriction. Perhaps we will be asked over and over again to commit to becoming larger and more generous. Perhaps God views us as capable of endless growth and renewal, endless diversity and creativity. Perhaps God expects us to fulfill our fullest potential and will actually cooperate with any plans that make of ourselves that which we dream of being.

— Julia Cameron, Faith and Will, p. 137-138

As Wide As the Universe

God, Life, Truth, Universalism 0

John remembers Jesus saying, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (chap. 14).

This is as wide and expansive a claim as a person can make.

What he doesn’t say is how, or when, or in what manner the mechanism functions that gets people to God through him. He doesn’t even state that those coming to the Father through him will even know that they are coming exclusively through him. He simply claims that whatever God is doing in the world to know and redeem and love and restore the world is happening through him.

And so the passage is exclusive, deeply so, insisting on Jesus alone as the way to God. But it is an exclusivity on the other side of inclusivity. . . .

This kind insists that Jesus is the way, but holds tightly to the assumption that the all-embracing, saving love of this particular Jesus the Christ will of course include all sorts of unexpected people from across the cultural spectrum.

As soon as the door is opened to Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and Baptists from Cleveland, many Christians become very uneasy, saying that then Jesus doesn’t matter anymore, the cross is irrelevant, it doesn’t matter what you believe, and so forth.

Not true.
Absolutely, unequivocally, unalterably not true.

What Jesus does is declare that he,
and he alone,
is saving everybody.

And then he leaves the door way, way open. Creating all sorts of possibilities. He is as narrow as himself and as wide as the universe.

— Rob Bell, Love Wins, p. 154-155

Not Having the Answers

Compassion, Connection, God 0

We are in some sense better off not having satisfying answers to vexing intellectual questions about why suffering, evil, and pain exist in the world. If we can say, “Oh, there’s a clear reason for this,” we can remain aloof, safe in the cool and lofty realm of impersonal logic in relation to human suffering. We can explain instead of empathize, theorize instead of pray, and answer instead of act. But in the absence of a satisfying logical explanation for human suffering, we must descend from our brains into our hearts and respond to the suffering of others with tears and action, not just words and more words.

So, we practice compassion and intercession not because we have fully satisfying answers to explain the suffering of others, but because we don’t. The practice of compassion or intercession, in this light, is not just a response to the agony of another in pain; it is also the response to our own agony of not having answers about why anybody is in pain. It is a way of saying, “For a fellow creature to be in pain and without help in God’s universe is simply unacceptable to both God and me. So I will go in between the two. I will grasp the hand of God with one hand and grasp the hand of my neighbor in pain with the other. I will join God in willing comfort, blessing, peace, and grace for my sister or brother in need.”

— Brian D. McLaren, Naked Spirituality, p. 126-127

Colorful and Exciting

Beauty, Creativity, God, Joy, Life 0

What if we believe in a benevolent and expansive force? What if we consider the idea that our dreams come from God and that God has the power to accomplish them? What if our “grandiose” schemes are actually God’s will for us? What if God’s will is expansive and colorful and exciting? What if turning our will and our life over to God is an invitation to adventure and not to drudgery? What if God is for us and not against us?

For most of us, it is radical to consider the idea of a God that is actually on our side. We hope, at best, for a God who will turn a blind eye to our strivings and not nip them in the bud. We tend to think that if we call God’s attention to our adventures and agendas, God will disapprove. We think of God as a spoilsport, a wet blanket. We ignore the evidence of the natural world that plainly shows us an exuberant intelligence committed to diversity.

— Julia Cameron, Faith and Will, p. 137

Supracultural

God, Truth, Universalism 0

Jesus is supracultural.
He is present within all cultures,
and yet outside of all cultures.

He is for all people,
and yet he refuses to be co-opted or owned by any one culture.

That includes any Christian culture. Any denomination. Any church. Any theological system. We can point to him, name him, follow him, discuss him, honor him, and believe in him — but we cannot claim him to be ours any more than he’s anyone else’s.

— Rob Bell, Love Wins, p. 151-152

Magnifying

God, Gratitude, Joy, Love, Uncategorized 0

Something always comes to fill the empty places. And when I give thanks for the seemingly microscopic, I make a place for God to grow within me. This, this, makes me full, and I “magnify him with thanksgiving” (Psalm 69:30 KJV), and God enters the world. What will a life magnify? The world’s stress cracks, the grubbiness of the day, all that is wholly wrong and terribly busted? Or God? Never is God’s omnipotence and omniscience diminutive. God is not in need of magnifying by us so small, but the reverse. It’s our lives that are little and we have falsely inflated self, and in thanks we decrease and the world returns right. I say thanks and I swell with Him, and I swell the world and He stirs me, joy all afoot.

This, I think, this is the other side of prayer.

This act of naming grace moments, this list of God’s gifts, moves beyond the shopping list variety of prayer and into the other side. The other side of prayer, the interior of His throne room, the inner walls of His powerful, love-beating heart. The list is God’s list, the pulse of His love — the love that thrums on the other side of our prayers. And I see it now for what this really is, this dare to write down one thousand things I love. It really is a dare to name all the ways God loves me. The true Love Dare. To move into His presence and listen to His love unending and know the grace uncontainable. This is the vault of the miracles. The only thing that can change us, the world, is this — all His love. I must never be deceived by the simplicity of eucharisteo and penning His love list. Cheese. Sun. Journal. Naming. Love. Here. It all feels startlingly hallowed, and I breathe shallow. I should take the shoes off.

— Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts, p. 59-60