Releasing the Fantasy and Loving the Real

I didn't talk to my dad for seven years. This began a few months after I moved out of his house. It was because the few times I did talk to him in that period were so destructive and hurtful emotionally for me that it took at least a week after each for me to recover. Later, towards the end of the seven years, I was talking with a therapist about my inability to have a relationship with my dad and therefore my continued total blockage of the relationship to protect myself. He said something that really ticked me off: "Your relationship difficulties with your father are your fault."

What!?!

Now I had been in therapy long enough to know that there's gotta be more. But I was pretty ticked off. How dare he tell me that the pain that I experienced each time I saw my dad was my fault! Ok, deep breath. "Please explain."

"These difficulties are your fault because you are expecting your dad to be something he cannot be and yet you continue to approach him and expect him to do, to say, to be what he isn't and cannot be. You are old enough and have seen enough that you both know that this isn't possible and you are able to approach him with enough caution to guide the conversation and interaction around the issues and topics you know will cause you pain."

Whoah!

This changed, and I mean CHANGED, my relationship with my father. You see, before, I went to my dad with the fantasy expectation that I had of the father and son relationship that I had always pictured that we would have when I was an adult. Me, the independent son, inviting him over for beers and a good conversation about deep topics, or calling him on the phone and having an interesting discussion about current events, or asking his advice on something that I was facing. Him, the wise sage, now ready to dispense advice and yet respecting my independence, ready to listen, to offer feedback, and have good discussion that wasn't always in perfect agreement. But here's the reality of my relationship with my dad: that isn't possible. And frankly, for me to expect that of him isn't loving my dad for who he actually is, but loving some fantasy that isn't even him. Sure, it would be great to have that kind of relationship. But that's not what I've been given, it's not what I have. If I was to have any relationship with him, it had to be a real relationship that recognized and respected his limitations (even those he wouldn't recognize or accept about himself).

This has come with a lot of mourning and a lot of sadness, even today. The last two times I have seen him, I have wished for more, but I've had to accept what is, and mourn the loss of what isn't. I can't force him to be what he can't. I must see him and love him as he is. For me that means I don't get to share all of me with him, because I know there are certain ideas and opinions I have that he could not accept and it would add unnecessary pain to the relationship. It's tough to let go of the fantasy. The fantasy "feels" right.. and in a perfect world, it is! But I must accept my dad as fallen, just as I am fallen too. And turn the fullness of my desires, and sorrow, to the Perfect Father in heaven.

Reasons for Doubt

This is my second post in a series I am doing on doubt in the Christian walk (you can read the first post here). I want to continue to share my personal story with doubt and what I have discovered as the reasons I have doubted continue to doubt when they flare up again.

For me, doubt has had three roots: pain, ignorance, and rebellion. I think it is likely that this is true for most doubt. Let me take them one by one.

Pain can cause one to question the goodness of God. As I felt intense pain in my own life, primarily from what I felt was rejection and distance from my dad, I doubted the goodness of God. Pain and suffering--our own or that around us--can cause us to ask some really difficult questions. Why does pain and suffering exist if an all-powerful, all-good God exists? Why does God allow me to suffer? Or them to suffer? Why would God allow this? Does God even exist? Does He hear me? These are the ringing echos of cries that come from places of deep pain and suffering. And they are best not answered philosophically or intellectually, when one is in the midst of asking such questions! The question behind the question here is not intellectual, but one of the heart. This was one of the big mistakes of Job's friends who tried to "comfort" him by giving him answers in his suffering. Their finest moment was the first seven days when they simply sat with him and wept with him. As soon as they opened their mouths, they were done. Sometimes silence is the only thing we can do.

Ignorance is another root cause of doubt and questioning. This can occur when one has improper views from God (learned, implied, or assumed). As I struggled over the idea of God in my early 20s, my picture and image of God were primarily formed by my dad, and I wasn't thrilled with a God who was in my dad's image. My rejection of God was a rejection of that god, who I thought was as I had been raised. Thankfully, God is so much bigger than our conceptions and if you really want to find Him, He will be found!

Lastly, rebellion is a big reason for doubt. This, I fear, is not one that we find easy to confess, but when we are deeply and truly honest with ourselves, the idea of being accountable for our actions (especially knowing our own sinfulness) and our obedience being due to a higher power doesn't sit well with us. Our American Individualism doesn't want to be told what to do. After all, we have declared our independence and we have no king! The further I walked away from God, the deeper I went into outright rebellion against Him, as my choices and actions were against what His will was for my life. I didn't care. I wanted to go my own way. To quote C.S. Lewis in his struggle with coming to Christ:

"Remember, I had always wanted, about all things, not to be "interfered with."  I had wanted (mad wish) "to call my soul my own."  I had been far more anxious to avoid suffering than to achieve delight.  I had always aimed at limited liabilities.  The supernatural itself had been to me, first, an illicit dram, and then, as by a drunkard's reaction, nauseous."

Rebellion, whether in the form of "leave me alone" or "I will go my own way" can be easily covered up by the intellect raising "objections" to keep one at "arm's length" to God. And thus, I think this is the most insidious and nasty one, and the most camouflaged reason, even from ourselves.

Doubt

After a short discussion on the topic of doubt in my 20|30s church group, I want to further reflect on my experience with doubt in my walk and some of the lessons I've learned and been taught.

I was raised in an ultra-conservative, highly rigid form of Christianity (if you know him, Bill Gothard-style). There was no room for doubt. There was an answer for everything. I grew to expect certain results based on certain inputs. If one was a believer, then certain things would occur and conversely, others would not occur. Christians wouldn't get divorced, or if so, their divorce rates would be exponentially lower than non-Christians. Then I started getting out, first in college, and then on my own as I graduated college, moved to Dallas, and what I believed ran into the hard rock of reality. My assumptions were wrong. What I saw didn't match with what I had understood to be true. I quickly concluded that my understanding was wrong, and in the process, decided what I believed and had been taught was wrong too (the proverbial phrase of 'throwing the baby out with the bathwater'). Quoting from M. Scott Peck in his The Road Less Traveled (and I will address parts of this quote in a latter post since it contains aspects that I don't completely agree with, but it does provide a good context):

To develop a religion or world view that is realistic...we must constantly revise and extend our understanding to include new knowledge of the larger world. We must constantly enlarge our frame of reference... We must rebel against and reject the religion of our parents... our religion must be a wholly personal one, forged entirely through the fire of our own questioning and doubting in the crucible of our own experience with reality.

After trying a couple of churches in Dallas, I finally gave up and went agnostic for a few years and the more I observed of Christianity (primarily American evangelicalism), the more it disgusted me and my doubts became greater. I developed a mental stance that in order for Christianity to be true, my doubts must be fully and completely satisfied and my questions fully answered; and since this wasn't possible, Christianity was an untenable position for me. I continued to hold to the standard I had been raised with, but since that standard wasn't achievable, I wouldn't believe.

I share this personal story in what I plan as the first of a short series of posts on doubt in order to highlight what I consider to be the most important thing I've learned about doubt: you will never have absolute certainty about anything in life and if that becomes your standard, nothing will measure up or satisfy. One of the big reasons I stepped away from Christianity for a while was because my standard for certainty was unreasonable--it was too rigid and strict. I wanted to see, touch, taste, and smell, and that has simply not been given to me, nor to you.

So, I would urge you to consider your own expectations of evidence and certainty as you think about your expectations of God and how He reveals His truth to you. How much certainty are you expecting?

A Grace that Withholds

I was reflecting this morning on the first few verses in Ephesians and God's boundless grace. As I've thought about God's graciousness, I've realized that His grace is evident just as much in what He does not give as in what He gives. The Psalmist writes that "he does not treat us as our sins deserve" (Ps. 103:10). Jesus Christ paid the price and took the wrath of God upon Himself so we would not be the recipients of that wrath. There is so much to grace that is a withholding grace.

This is consistent with our experience in even the daily things we do. There are hundreds of things I withhold from my dog, not because I hate her, but because they are not good for her. In her perspective, I am probably quite a kill-joy at times, but saw blades and cigarette butts aren't good for her! Heck, she'd eat herself to death if given the chance!

For me personally, I can clearly see many things--jobs, relationships, activities, possessions--I thought I could not live without, and yet in hindsight, I am so grateful He did not give me what I thought I had to have. I am grateful He took it away. I am grateful His grace withheld.

Perhaps you can think of things that have been withheld or taken from you, that at the time seemed horrible, but now you are so thankful that He did take it from you. Grace gives--both in what we don't have and in removing what we don't need.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21)

Fear

As a child, one of the reasons I was very bad at sports was that I was afraid of being hurt--being hit by the ball, being kicked, being injured, whatever. Unfortunately, this was consistent with my attitude towards most things: being afraid of them. I've noticed that my dog exhibits similar characteristics. She too is afraid. She is afraid of other dogs because she is afraid of being hurt (having been hurt a couple of times before by another dog). As I was walking her this morning, we came across another dog who was quite the gentle and sweet dog, but Coco would have none of this dog, for she was afraid. I felt sad because she is missing the freedom of having interaction with her own kind and the fun that can be for her.

My dad's response to my fear was usually anger, which, can I tell you, is really not a good way to get your child to not be afraid?! I went from being afraid of the thing to being afraid of both the thing and his reaction! I was thinking about it this morning as I watched my dog's fear, wondering what I could do to help her.

How does God respond to our fear? Does He get angry? Does He wash his hands and leave us on our own? Does He throw us in the deep end and wish us the best of luck? Exactly the opposite! I consistently see God telling His people that He is with them when He is exhorting them to not fear. For example, in Isaiah 41:10 God says "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you; surely I will uphold you by my righteous right hand." One thing to note is all of the spacial relationships in this one verse.

• I am with you - beside you (around you)
• I am your God - above you
• I will strengthen you; I will help you - in you
• I will uphold you - below you

Perhaps a better response to the fear in another is to enter into that fear with them. Be with them. Be beside them, helping them, supporting them, encouraging them, praying for them. I'm not really sure what this looks like in a parent/child relationship, since I am not a parent. But I might have one suggestion to start. Because my perspective and knowledge is significantly greater than my dog's, I need to be more understanding of her fear, recognizing her limited perspective. This is, I think, part of what it means to enter into the fear of another. With a child, one needs to work to remember (if possible) what it was like to be at that age, perhaps with those same fears. Put yourself in his or her shoes. It will go a long way toward understanding.

Some Turbulence May Occur

I just finished watching The Prince of Egypt, which is a 1998 animation of the story of Moses and the Exodus--the miraculous intervention of God to set the Jewish people free from their slavery in Egypt. Through the plagues, through the pillar of fire that stopped the Egyptian army while the people crossed the Red Sea, and the crossing of the Red Sea by splitting the waters in half, God's strength and power were evident.

As I watched the sea being split in the movie, I noticed there was a lot of fear in the faces of the people as they contemplated walking through the sea. No kidding! There are walls of water on both sides of you held up by One you can't see and you're just gonna trot on over to the other side with barely a thought?! You start to realize just how big God is! The disciples had the same experience when Jesus calmed the storm. Mark says that after Jesus calmed the storm, his disciples were "terrified" (4:41). The similarities and contrasts are interesting. In the Exodus, it took all night for the waters to be divided (Ex. 14:21); when Christ spoke, the storm stopped right then. In both stories, we see the power of God over water and wind, one visible, one invisible. In the former story, the people went through the water. In the latter, the disciples are in a boat on top of the water. Yet both feared death, the people of Israel from Pharaoh and his army, and the disciples from drowning. Moses was simply a representative of God, but Christ was the Word made flesh. In both, God controls the wind and water, one to blow strongly to separate, and the other to cease blowing to calm.

It can feel pretty rough and windy sometimes. Lately, it certainly has felt that way, as it seems like there is more terror, more partisanship, more division than in a while. It's easy to become disheartened and to feel hopeless. But God can use the wind or He can stop it. He can calm the storm or He can create one. He can still the waters or He can separate them. His call is still same: Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith? (Mark 4:40)

My Truth, Your Truth

Last night at the IBC20|30s group, our pastor asked a question about this common phrase "my truth" and "your truth", asking us what we thought of these statements and if there was "truth" in those statements. Put another way, can you have your truth and I have mine and they both be true?

I am a recovering fundamentalist and so I still slightly wince at the phrases my truth and your truth. If truth is true, how can each hold to something different and both be true? I want to jump up and drop the mic of absolute truth and walk off. What I have found is I have held to an overly simplified view of truth and of people, out of fear and laziness of not wanting to actually engage real people in real situations struggling with real issues.

I think much of my--and perhaps your--approach to religion at times can be one in which we adopt a certain set of propositions and truth statements, which gives us comfort in having the "right answer" as we navigate through the complexities of life. It's like the reason young children watch the same movie over and over again--knowing the outcome is comforting in a world that is ever changing. And yet, just as children grow and mature, accepting more complexity and newness and learning to leave the old behind, so too we must leave the simple and move toward the real. And part of embracing this reality is to recognize that people are complex and their reasons for acting and feeling the way they do cannot be squeezed into a simple mold of "black/white", "right/wrong", "good/bad".

We know this about ourselves intrinsically. If I choose to work out, I am doing it 1) so that I might feel better, 2) because it is healthy, 3) so that I might eat more, 4) to look better physically, 5) to burn off that extra cookie I had last night, 6) because I feel guilty for skipping these last few days, and there are at least several other reasons on top of these that I am not even aware of! And all of these are true! And this is the simplest of examples. Imagine the complexity of intention regarding things so much bigger!

I do want to affirm that there is absolute truth and that there is an unchanging, ever solid center of reality that is always true--God Himself, revealed to us in Jesus Christ, spoken through the Spirit in the Scriptures, and acknowledged in the regula fidei. None of this "my truth" and "your truth" is intended to supplant or cast this aside. But we would be wise to exercise caution in what we hold in that solid center and what might actually be outside of it. I know my tendency is and has been to drag as much into that rigid center because it asks so little of me. After all, it's much easier to walk around like the priest or Levite in the story of the Good Samaritan than it is to enter into the messiness of another's life--a messiness that requires me to acknowledge their truth and to love with Christ's love.

More of God, More of Me, Though I am not He

I am in the midst of taking Trinitarianism at Dallas Theological Seminary with Dr. Horrell and as I have been told by many sources, it has been magnificent thus far! It is a lot of material to take in and digest (and ultimately it is hardly being digested but mostly stored away for future thought or at least a vague recollection which can then encourage me to dig further into my notes) in a single week. One thing has stuck out to me in this second day that I wanted to share because it seems so antithetical to how we typically expect relationships to function.

In relationships, we sort of expect that to some extent we will “lose” ourselves in the other person, somehow change, become different, or at least, we feel the pressure to do so. This is actually an indicator of a poor or unhealthy relationship, not a good one. What I am seeing in reflecting on the Trinity and the Godhead – the beautiful mystery of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – is that true submission and love results in becoming more of who one truly is! The more I enter into the love of God, the more I submit myself to God, the more I actually become and embody – physically, emotionally, mentally – who I am made to be. In contrast to a pantheistic point of view where God sort of “takes me over”, in fact, in Christianity, God sets me free to become more real. And in an interesting way, we kind of “know” this is the case, because when you are in the “relationship” that is right, it is right because you are with a person who accepts you the way you are. The love of the other gives you greater freedom to be and enjoy you as you! That is love – loving the beloved as they are, not as we would try to manipulate them to be.

You may ask: “but doesn’t God expect us to change or to become more ‘Christlike’ or better?” Yes, but in the way one who actually loves the beloved would desire. You see, God sets us free from sin, which is the condition that is binding and preventative true freedom, and He provides us both the freedom and power (by His Spirit) to live more deeply and fully into our design, into how He’s made us. Satan (the Father of lies) would prefer that we live in bondage and in part, limping along with tiny bits of joy, scraps that only cause us to pursue things that can never satisfy. God wants us to live freely and true freedom in its fullest sense will mean loving Him in return – because He is the Creator, Sustainer, Redeemer, and Lover of our soul. We won’t lose ourselves in the process – we will become more of ourselves, which in turn, gives Him more glory, praise, and honor!

A Salivating Dog and Impossible Understanding

My dog has something going on with her mouth right now, as she is salivating uncontrollably and dripping all over the place. Usually this is caused by picking something up with the mouth and there being a reaction to it, which may last for a couple of days. In some cases, it could be something in the mouth, which means one needs to investigate carefully all the corners of a dog's mouth. Needless to say, this is not a favorite activity of my dog!

When I go to the doctor with a sore throat, I open wide when he tells me to, and allow him to peer into the corners of my mouth as long as he needs, hoping he will diagnose the issue and a solution will quickly be recommended. This is because my level of comprehension is roughly similar to that of my doctor's. I have some understanding of cause/effect, I know that he is there to help me, and I should cooperate. But my dog knows none of this. She knows my fingers are probing around in her mouth, a flashlight is shining in her face as I look around in her watery mouth, and she doesn't like it! But I'm trying to see if there is anything that I can find as being the cause of her (and my) distress.

After taking a couple of philosophy courses last year, I have come to understand that there are some things that are impossible for God to do, not because he is somehow limited in His infinite power or weak, but simply because God does not contradict reality and there are things that simply are logically impossible. It is impossible for me to communicate to my dog the intention and heart behind my investigation of her salivation. I want what is best for her. I love her. I want to help her and find the source of her problem so I can do what needs to be done to correct it. I am not torturing her or in any way wanting to inflict discomfort or pain out of some perverse feeling. Yet I am limited -- I cannot communicate my intent to her. I cannot tell her why I am doing what I am doing. I must do what needs to be done, with gentleness and love, knowing that she will never understand. It sucks.

And this is I think something that occurs between God and humanity. We simply cannot understand what He is doing or why He is doing it. Please understand that if God were to make you understand His ways then you would cease to be you! And I'm not even sure it would be possible to understand His ways, as you'd need to be God, which God cannot create.

In addition, I love the fact that my dog is a dog! I wouldn't want to change her to be any more or less than she is. She is fun and brings joy and it is great to see her in all her doggie glory. And I think that God has wisely made us to be what we are--human and fallible--and will not change us, at least not without our consent (and thus why He is willing to allow people to perish). But such limitations come with limitations, some we grow out of, and others we simply continue in because of our nature. God certainly wants us to be conformed to the image of Christ, but I think He is far from interested in us becoming a completely different kind of thing, such as a turtle, or angel, or worse, demon.

One day God will fully transform me into one who can enjoy Him forever. However, while my sin will be removed, I will still be human and I think, still experience things He does that I do not understand. And that is ok, because love does not need full understanding to love.