I am a rebel. Though I may be ultra-preppy, clean-cut, and rule-liking, nevertheless I am coming to grips with my inner rebellion. I can unpack this self-awareness many ways – examining impurities, flaws, self-righteousness, hypocrisy, pride, fierce independence, all of which are legit and deserve reflection, but this is not what I am talking about today.
Last week was an “ah ha” moment for me. I sat across Sister Olga, a wise nun who also happens to have a Ph.D. in psychology. I meet with Sister Olga on a regular basis to wrestle with my anger and the intentional distance I hold between myself and God. Not exactly an easy task for myself or Sister Olga (thank goodness she is equipped to deal with my craziness!). I entered her office, sat on the couch, and promptly announced with intention to stir up some debate, “I am angrier with God than I have admitted in the past.” She was not moved. I again stated, “I would like to declare that if I am honest, I hate God.” Again, she was not provoked but instead stated, “I do not think it is God you are angry with.” She reminded me that I have encountered God on the mountain and in my heart, in the core of my being, I know it is not God who has disappointed me.
As I unpacked the source of my anger, it became evident it was toward individuals representing God and Christianity whom I believe unjustly caused me harm. I believed they had labeled my thoughts and questions as rebellious. I wore the label as though I were a rebellious teenager. I impulsively resisted and rejected others because I believed “they just didn’t understand me.” I assumed I was rejected and therefore with anger, began rejecting them. I wrote others off as closed-minded and preemptively rejected them. I was a rebel with the cause of self-preservation. I believed a lie that others were out to harm me. In my assumptions (which we know what an assumption does), I believed that the worldview from which I came could no longer accept who I had become. The problem: I never gave them the chance.
Adolescent rebellion occurs in the midst of one’s quest for identity. The adolescent is unsure of who they are, but sure of who they are not. Specifically, they are NOT their parents. As I reflect on my adolescent spiritual rebellion, I was NOT that which I assume others stated I was. I was searching for who I was becoming, but this had (and still has) no concrete certainty.
While I am still discerning out my identity, specifically my spiritual identity, I believe rebel still fits – that is, rebel with some degree of maturity. I do wrestle with complicated questions and am content with maintaining a “sacred agnosticism.” In other words, I believe in the Christian story, I believe that Christ is who he says he is, but I approach this with humility. I also believe that much of what I believe about God and religion is wrought with my own projections, anxieties, experiences, ideologies, and cultural values. As I peel back these layers, I do believe that the Truth exists. Unfortunately, I have come to believe I will spend a lifetime peeling back the layers and will only ultimately KNOW TRUTH in the next life. So yes, I rebel against the idea of absolute knowledge in this life and cling to faith and hope that in my pursuit toward the truth, I will not be disappointed in the end.
I also believe that most of life is complicated and cannot be answered with a simple four-step plan that will make life lovely. Those four-step plans, riddled in the worldview of modernism, seem trite in the face of suffering. Telling a young widow with small children that, “It was God’s will for her husband to die and that she should rejoice in his eternity” is a cruel denial of her suffering. Instead, I believe we are called to suffer with those who suffer, even when the suffering has no immediate solution, quick fix, or magic words to make the pain go away. Suffering is a part of life. It was a part of the life of Christ. So yes, I rebel against trite answers to life’s complications and in doing so, I hope that I am being like Christ in my actions and in my willingness to walk alongside another.
Last week was an “ah ha” moment for me. I sat across Sister Olga, a wise nun who also happens to have a Ph.D. in psychology. I meet with Sister Olga on a regular basis to wrestle with my anger and the intentional distance I hold between myself and God. Not exactly an easy task for myself or Sister Olga (thank goodness she is equipped to deal with my craziness!). I entered her office, sat on the couch, and promptly announced with intention to stir up some debate, “I am angrier with God than I have admitted in the past.” She was not moved. I again stated, “I would like to declare that if I am honest, I hate God.” Again, she was not provoked but instead stated, “I do not think it is God you are angry with.” She reminded me that I have encountered God on the mountain and in my heart, in the core of my being, I know it is not God who has disappointed me.
As I unpacked the source of my anger, it became evident it was toward individuals representing God and Christianity whom I believe unjustly caused me harm. I believed they had labeled my thoughts and questions as rebellious. I wore the label as though I were a rebellious teenager. I impulsively resisted and rejected others because I believed “they just didn’t understand me.” I assumed I was rejected and therefore with anger, began rejecting them. I wrote others off as closed-minded and preemptively rejected them. I was a rebel with the cause of self-preservation. I believed a lie that others were out to harm me. In my assumptions (which we know what an assumption does), I believed that the worldview from which I came could no longer accept who I had become. The problem: I never gave them the chance.
Adolescent rebellion occurs in the midst of one’s quest for identity. The adolescent is unsure of who they are, but sure of who they are not. Specifically, they are NOT their parents. As I reflect on my adolescent spiritual rebellion, I was NOT that which I assume others stated I was. I was searching for who I was becoming, but this had (and still has) no concrete certainty.
While I am still discerning out my identity, specifically my spiritual identity, I believe rebel still fits – that is, rebel with some degree of maturity. I do wrestle with complicated questions and am content with maintaining a “sacred agnosticism.” In other words, I believe in the Christian story, I believe that Christ is who he says he is, but I approach this with humility. I also believe that much of what I believe about God and religion is wrought with my own projections, anxieties, experiences, ideologies, and cultural values. As I peel back these layers, I do believe that the Truth exists. Unfortunately, I have come to believe I will spend a lifetime peeling back the layers and will only ultimately KNOW TRUTH in the next life. So yes, I rebel against the idea of absolute knowledge in this life and cling to faith and hope that in my pursuit toward the truth, I will not be disappointed in the end.
I also believe that most of life is complicated and cannot be answered with a simple four-step plan that will make life lovely. Those four-step plans, riddled in the worldview of modernism, seem trite in the face of suffering. Telling a young widow with small children that, “It was God’s will for her husband to die and that she should rejoice in his eternity” is a cruel denial of her suffering. Instead, I believe we are called to suffer with those who suffer, even when the suffering has no immediate solution, quick fix, or magic words to make the pain go away. Suffering is a part of life. It was a part of the life of Christ. So yes, I rebel against trite answers to life’s complications and in doing so, I hope that I am being like Christ in my actions and in my willingness to walk alongside another.
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