We have a joke in our family that I never read the instructions on putting things together. Which is mostly true. Over the years I have put things together ineffectively, leaving out a very important piece or attaching the leg of something to the wrong end, etc. I hate to take the painstaking time to read the instructions and would rather wing it and "intuit" the plan. Or I read the instructions post assembly and try to recreate where I went wrong. Knowing the error of my ways, I am trying to unlearn this tendency and learn the gift of going slowly and carefully. Read the instructions, I tell myself.
I also avoid parenting books for the most part. Too prescriptive. My first child was born at the height of Growing Kids God's Way which I did read part of, but did not follow. At the core of who I am, I trust my gut on parenting more than any how-to book. This may or may not be a good thing, just an honest thing.
I haven't really made it to the end of many marriage or relationship books. I am sure they may be quite helpful. Again, I just tend to trust my instincts on these things. May or may not be a great plan. Like assembling Ikea furniture, perhaps I should READ THE INSTRUCTIONS on relationships. But then, whose instructions to read?
Now firmly in midlife, I would like a gentle instruction manual on how to live in a deteriorating, grief-filled, disaster-laden world with joy, hope and light. Something that is sober, spiritually mature, intellectually deep, theologically orthodox and non-prescriptive. “Here's a few thoughts,” over "here's what to do."
We Christians love to be very prescriptive. That’s not all bad. There are better and worst ways to live. However, the very nature of our prescriptiveness and certainty on things that may be more open than naught, can lead to deconstruction. Especially at midlife. Many of my friends are deconstructing a lot or a bit, struggling to make sense of the black-and-white religious certainty they were taught in young adulthood.
We just love to give the instruction manual that makes everything so clear and defined, and right. Right in our eyes. But what is often lost is that the spiritual journey is infinite, mysterious, transcendent and metamorphic. We are becoming a new being that lives in a new infinite kingdom. There is no “instruction manual” to getting all right, all the time in very specific ways.
A seminary professor of mine shared an illustration that has stuck with me for decades.
Draw a short line on a piece of paper.
This line is your spiritual journey.
Now draw a circle around it.
The circle is God.
Now draw a long line that goes off the sheet of your paper and try to draw a circle around it. Something like this—but if you kept going so that it went off the sheet of your paper. You can imagine this being the edge of a huge circle and the line going off the page.
Then my professor said,
“Look at the first line and circle. When you are young in your faith journey, your time with God is short. And you think you can see the edges of God. You think you can know God, you can figure out how this faith and life thing work. Things are clear and certain.”
Ok…that makes sense. (This is also a helpful tool to understand when preachers and a variety of Christians proclaim “this is how it is.” They are still young or less mature in the faith journey.)
“Now, look at the second line. The longer you walk with God, the more mystery you find. You no longer see the edges of God. You realize what seemed simple at first was not untrue, but it wasn’t enough. God is infinite, full of mystery, and unknown. You learn how little you know and understand and how big God is.”
God is infinite. Even throughout all of eternity, we will never get to the end of God. We will never fully comprehend God, or see the edges of God, or fully understand this omniscient and omnipotent Being. How silly we are to think that we can package up our theological understanding in a neat little box!
Instead of an instructional manual, I want to seek wise spiritual pathfinders who have traveled the spiritual road for a long time, learned that God is infinite, the answers are not black and white, certainty is not faith, and that what we really need is not a map, but a guide. I also long to share my spiritual journey with others, not prescriptively, but with the hard-earned wisdom I have learned from a life pursuing God.
This is what I mean by “the deeper life.”
I do not pretend to know everything or even much, but I would like to share my path and way in the journey of the deeper life. Not as instructional manual, but as a fellow pilgrim. In this deeper life journey, we are given a few good guides to the holy life. Other fellow pilgrims who are tried-and-true, spiritual mentors who are have walked the path for longer than we have, the Bible, and the Holy Spirit.
The Bible is our authoritative plumbline by which we measure and map our lives. Yes, it has instructions in it. But instead of a manual of assembly of certainty, over time it becomes our ancient and living companion and guide on the spiritual journey. More than a map, more than a list of what-to-dos, it is a way to walk. It’s our best guide for the journey along with the Holy Spirit. The Bible is our walking stick. Like Psalm 23 says: Your rod and Your staff comfort me. It’s our walking stick, good for leaning on when we are tired and for defending us from lions and bears. Full of different authors, wild stories, and ways to live in distinct periods of human history applied to today, it guides us as a Living Book.
The Holy Spirit is our Comforter and Counselor. The Holy Spirit gives us wisdom, discernment and fresh eyes as we learn to follow the Voice of God with God’s gentle whispers, profound shoves, clear guidance, and mysterious closed doors.
If you find yourself deconstructing your faith at such a time as this (the whole world is in shambles, evil seems to win, suffering, destruction, and death that runs rampant), and you want an instruction manual—don’t look for certainty, finite answers, and short answers. Take a deep breath and dive deeper into God. Don’t stay shallow. The deeper life takes us away from the shore, but its where we find orientation that lasts a lifetime.
Look to faith over certainty. To the infinite way of God. To scripture that forms us. To people who live at the pace of the work of the soul. To mystery. To depth.
To the deeper life.
Draw your line right off the page, down the street, and across the world.
You can never contain God.
Friend, stay faithful.
Not because you shouldn’t ask the questions, but because you can ask them all.
I will keep seeking how to live with light, life and hope in desperate times. We need each other to find the way.
The way ahead is deeper. Depth over deconstruction.
So true. When I was young (pre-30s, for the most part) I thought I had everything figured out and that my ways were perfect (so weird how that describes G d and HIS ways-- alone!).
For a long time now I have been realizing that the older I get and the more wisdom I inculcate, the more I realize that I actually don't know.
"...in a deteriorating, grief-filled, disaster-laden world" your words are encouraging and hopeful. I'm over here learning the deep dive and grateful for your work.