#Rethink: What it Means to Believe, Suffering, and Lament
This month join me as I question what it means to believe, contemplate suffering, and explore the practice of lament.
Finding Faith after our Belief was Burned
I've been thinking about how much the American Evangelical Church reminds me of the Biblical Religious Jews lately. My podcast has followed this theme for weeks now. The last two episodes explored things that keep us from God -- things I see in our religious Christian culture, and my own heart, as well as in the Jews who rejected Jesus. So far I've spent time contemplating my personal fear and pride as well as what those things means for the modern church. Tonight we will tackle unbelief.
This is a hard one. Many of the Scripture verses talking about necessary faith have been abused and twisted to make people feel like a lack of faith directly affected their suffering. How do I share the truth that, "without faith it is impossible to please God," (Hebrews 11:6a) with my listeners who have had their belief all but burned down?
It was the unbelief of the religious Jews that kept them from seeing Jesus for who He was -- God in the flesh. They witnessed miracles and heard words of wisdom that made them question, and yet they chose to reject Him. Can we come to a place where we reject the Christianese culture, the religious formulas, and the spiritual abuse we've experienced while also holding onto belief "that God exists and that He rewards those who seek Him?" (Hebrews 6:11b)
Friends, the Real God doesn't reward us with health and wealth, or earthly comfort and security. He rewards us with Himself. He invites us into His backwards, inside out, upside down Kingdom, into a new reality where we find peace and joy despite brokenness and suffering. And the key to the Kingdom is faith. Join me tonight at 5pm EST for more.
"I awoke the other day thinking, 'Oh my goodness, I'm dying.'"
Brooklyn's Journey Home
I found Brooklyn about a month ago early in the morning when I was supposed to be drinking coffee and journaling but was instead scrolling through Facebook. I did not do any journaling that day, since I spent my time crying into my coffee and blowing my nose.
25-year-old Brooklyn was on hospice and had days to live, but she was using her last breaths to tell the world about her wonderful Jesus, and how she was going to be seeing him very soon. Her writing was witty, sarcastic, and poignant. Somehow the depth of her suffering and faith cut through anything that might have seemed trite or Christianese. I was broken by the beauty and pain - by the reality of Jesus' death and resurrection being lived out in this dying girl. I'm crying now as I write this. It was mesmerizing and I couldn't stop reading.
Brooklyn started the page on Dec 28, 2001 and she passed away on March 1, 2022. There are only eighteen posts, but she has over 175k followers. Feeling sadness and pain can be uncomfortable for many of us, but I truly believe that the encouragement you will receive from Brooklyn's faith be will be worth any tears you might shed or the stuffy nose you will probably end up with. For real, check it out: Brooklyn's Journey Home. It goes perfectly with the next section of this newsletter talking about lament.
The Language of Lament
Spiritual disciplines are something that can still be hard for me to wrestle through. They were infused with formulas growing up in my Christian cult. We used prayer, memorizing Scripture, fasting, meditating, etc. to get God's attention and blessings. They were also triumphant flags to be waved as a sign of superior spirituality. Over time and especially thanks to Mike Cosper's book, Recapturing the Wonder, spiritual disciplines have become less triggering. I've even discovered a favorite: lament.
Lament is the idea of suffering in the presence of God. When we practice lament, we allow ourselves to deeply grieve. We feel every bit of our sorrow, heartache, and pain, yet we bring it all to the arms of our loving Heavenly Father. We allow ourselves to be held even when we don't understand. We might scream, wail, and even throw things, but in lament we experience it with God instead of running away from Him. We choose trust and hope in the middle of devastation.
I connect deeply with lamentation. These days I find myself embracing sorrow rather than avoiding it. My own suffering has built within me a language of lament. Too often we try to quickly cover sadness with pretty Christianese. It's called spiritual bypassing if you'd like to do more research. We quote pat phrases, tell people we will pray for them, and shrug off our pain by declaring, "God is in control."
I want to encourage you to feel the brokenness, experience the inadequacy, embrace the uncertainty, and deeply grieve before a God who will never leave us even if He also never gives us any answers. It's an opportunity to experience the paradox of peace that passes understanding.
Thanks for taking a moment to #Rethink some of our religious traditions and beliefs. I know that it can be scary to deconstruct and reconstruct our faith, but finding the Real Jesus is absolutely worth it. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, questions, or comments.
If you know someone who would love to #rethink, please share!
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