Ravelling

Such a great Ikon gathering on Sunday night, titled ‘The God Delusion’. Here is the piece I read.

UN/RAVELLING

To Fear Unravelling

Here I am unravelling!

It began with a doubt. A tickling thread, an element itching. Not much, but at the time I wanted it gone; I prayed for it to disappear.

Unravelling. Some early questions coming out of the fray: How can I claim to know God? How can I comfortably address Infinite-God in prayer? What is my faith made of?

This doubt was mocking me: ‘You live your family inheritance! You’ve invested so much you can’t let it go! Your identity is tied up in Christendom - pull this thread and you will be nothing!’ Mocking little, dangling thread of doubt.

The thread. I couldn’t ignore the itch. Should I snip it off and pretend it never existed? Or should I pull it and examine my reasons for belief? I would pull it until it stopped. My faith would find its form and still keep me warm. It would stand up to the test. I would tug this thread and come out stronger.

I came out weaker.

Every question led to another. Each answer was teased apart showing its own presuppositions. Every new experience I was open to, and every stranger I met, pulled at the thread. I was unravelling, and I was unravelling fast. What would be left?! Filled with doubt. Filled with uncertainty. Filled with failure.

That’s how it started, this unravelling.

To Revel in Ravelling

But unravelling and ravelling, I was both. They mean the same thing. I started to see that unravelling didn’t need the negative appendage, the un- prefix. As if unravelling were to be avoided, to be considered the ruin of my belief, my faith’s fall.

My Christ-encounter had become meshed in interpretation, and tangled in my inheritance (church, theology, psychology, politics). My ‘becoming-Christ’ had become ‘Christian’ (in all its woollen glory). But rather than unravelling these threads to expose an embarrassed belief, this ravelling disentangles the web of confusing adornments and décor to make room for the next encounter.

Ravelling. Disentangling, not collapsing. My faith didn’t unravel, it ravelled. They mean the same thing. It wasn’t the end, it was the beginning of something… I learned to revel in ravelling. The questions proclaim more than the answers. The searching confirms that there has been revelation. The hunt for an unattainable treasure confirms that we have found it. Tearing apart what I love is evidence that I love it.

Filled with doubt, for what is faith without it?! Filled with uncertainty, and my remaining beliefs are held lightly; an ensured humility. Filled with failure; failure to grasp God, forever failing.

I am ravelling.

And the story continued on...
Where does your faith lie? ;-)

Forced Hypocrites

There is no ideological purity. There is no righteousness in our actions. All concerns are ditched in the face of necessity and, too frequently, convenience. The compromises pile up as we shop in supermarkets that destroy third world economies and the lives of those struggling to survive; Christ knows, even ‘FairTrade’ falls embarrassingly short of fairness. The compromises soar as we drive our cars and fly in planes to our holiday and work destinations, every minute adding to the destruction of our planet. The blood is on our hands as our taxes fund the arms industry. The pile of compromise rises and finds form as we cast our vote and thus legitimise the current 'photocopy' representative democracy where decisions that affect us are made without us, and that affect others are done in our name. At best we are forced hypocrites, cursing our wallets as we feed and clothe ourselves while standing on the backs of others, cursing our ballot papers as we decry the politicians. Curse our failure, us forced hypocrites, there is no righteousness in our actions.