Ever since church on Sunday I've had this feeling that I should write. What? I'm not sure. It just had to be something- anything at all.
At church on Sunday Russ talked in part about ignoring that feeling, the "tug" of the Holy Spirit and how we so often ignore that "tug" Sunday after Sunday. We say to ourselves, "I'll get back to that...I'll attend to that later...I'll ask for prayer about that another time...I'll think more about that after this conversation..." and then we never do. I found myself with this pull to write the more I listened to Russ talk and decided I would sit down and write that evening after my son was in bed. But Sunday turned into Monday by way of a baby coming down with a cold which turned into Tuesday. However, here I finally am on Tuesday drafting this out.
As I sat there Sunday morning I found myself thinking about vulnerability and authenticity- particularly within the context of the church. I wondered what kind of power would come from us (the church) being honest with our struggles and with us not being afraid of other's struggles. I wondered what could happen if we admitted our own brokenness, weaknesses and failings and what would happen if this admission was met with true empathy. I think not only would we find true friendship and authentic community but we would also find freedom and power to go forward in faith. I'm reminded as I type this of one of my favourite C.S. Lewis quotes...and if you know me you are probably sick of hearing it, however, here it goes... "True friendship [read:community] happens when one man says to another, 'What? You too? I thought I was the only one.'"
I remember hearing somewhere once that if Satan can make you feel as though you are alone and keep you in the dark it gives him way more power than if you feel you are surrounded by support and light. IT seems like if we shy away from vulnerability and authenticity we're also inadvertently giving Satan more power. If we can be convinced that we are alone, worthless and the only one who struggles with sin (or sin of "this magnitude") then we will feel even less motivation to walk away from whatever entangles us. If we're led to believe we are worth nothing, that we are alone, that we are unlovable than we will surely believe we deserve the darkness and battles we face.
However, if we bring our struggles out into the light- in essence confessing to one another our sins (James 5:16)- and are met with true empathy, understanding and authenticity (praying with one another)...in return suddenly we are less alone, less in the dark and hopefully- due to the authentic response of those we shared with- we have less of a feeling that we are worthless. (Side note: apparently I do take after C.S. Lewis slightly in my writing...can anyone say, "Insanely long sentence."?) Sometimes all we need is to feel heard and this experience of being heard (truly heard) says we're worth listening to; we're worth hearing.
I truly believe that this idea is Biblical- not just in the confession part but also in the listening... listening with empathy and authenticity and lack of judgement. I think 1 Timothy 1:15 can back me up on that last point- "The saying is trustworthy and and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinner, of whom I am the worst". I don't believe this means that we literally have to believe that we are "the worst"...what I mean by that is I don't think we need to have a false humility where we think we are garbage and this allows us to see others without judgement. I think what this means is true humility that we recognize our own garbage, our own issues, our own dark moments and realize that we are no better. That there is no hierarchy of sinners. I think that Romans 12:15 backs me up on the first part...the listening with authenticity and empathy. Romans 12:15 says to 'rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep". How can we do this if we aren't empathizing, if we as our true selves are not really there in that moment...furthermore how can we weep with those who weep if we are judging them as they do so? How can we truly follow what Romans 12:15 really says if we're not really hearing one another's stories?
I've always been a firm believer in the power of stories and stories shared (perhaps even this led me to my job as a counsellor). Christ's ministry is full of the power of stories- not only in the form of parables but also in the stories of the people who He interacted with and challenged. Christ is also an incredible example (obviously...) of a present and empathetic listener. The story of the woman at the well (John 4), when He weeps at Lazarus' death and is moved by the sorrow of those gathered (John 11:32-34), his compassion for the widow whose son has died (Luke 7:11-15), and his compassion for the crowds that came to him (Matthew 9:36) to name a few moments. I love that when Christ interacts with people He deals with them and responds to them in a no BS kind of way (read the story of his interaction with the woman at the well...he just calls her out...but calls her out in LOVE!). He feels for them, He feels WITH them, He hears their hurts and fears (unspoken or otherwise) and responds always perfectly to what they are truly communicating. How much we have to learn from not only Christ's telling of stories but the stories of His life.
So, what's your story? What stories do you love? What stories have shaped you? What stories without question speak to that vulnerable, broken, messy part of life and time after time whisper to you that you are not alone?
At church on Sunday Russ talked in part about ignoring that feeling, the "tug" of the Holy Spirit and how we so often ignore that "tug" Sunday after Sunday. We say to ourselves, "I'll get back to that...I'll attend to that later...I'll ask for prayer about that another time...I'll think more about that after this conversation..." and then we never do. I found myself with this pull to write the more I listened to Russ talk and decided I would sit down and write that evening after my son was in bed. But Sunday turned into Monday by way of a baby coming down with a cold which turned into Tuesday. However, here I finally am on Tuesday drafting this out.
As I sat there Sunday morning I found myself thinking about vulnerability and authenticity- particularly within the context of the church. I wondered what kind of power would come from us (the church) being honest with our struggles and with us not being afraid of other's struggles. I wondered what could happen if we admitted our own brokenness, weaknesses and failings and what would happen if this admission was met with true empathy. I think not only would we find true friendship and authentic community but we would also find freedom and power to go forward in faith. I'm reminded as I type this of one of my favourite C.S. Lewis quotes...and if you know me you are probably sick of hearing it, however, here it goes... "True friendship [read:community] happens when one man says to another, 'What? You too? I thought I was the only one.'"
I remember hearing somewhere once that if Satan can make you feel as though you are alone and keep you in the dark it gives him way more power than if you feel you are surrounded by support and light. IT seems like if we shy away from vulnerability and authenticity we're also inadvertently giving Satan more power. If we can be convinced that we are alone, worthless and the only one who struggles with sin (or sin of "this magnitude") then we will feel even less motivation to walk away from whatever entangles us. If we're led to believe we are worth nothing, that we are alone, that we are unlovable than we will surely believe we deserve the darkness and battles we face.
However, if we bring our struggles out into the light- in essence confessing to one another our sins (James 5:16)- and are met with true empathy, understanding and authenticity (praying with one another)...in return suddenly we are less alone, less in the dark and hopefully- due to the authentic response of those we shared with- we have less of a feeling that we are worthless. (Side note: apparently I do take after C.S. Lewis slightly in my writing...can anyone say, "Insanely long sentence."?) Sometimes all we need is to feel heard and this experience of being heard (truly heard) says we're worth listening to; we're worth hearing.
I truly believe that this idea is Biblical- not just in the confession part but also in the listening... listening with empathy and authenticity and lack of judgement. I think 1 Timothy 1:15 can back me up on that last point- "The saying is trustworthy and and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinner, of whom I am the worst". I don't believe this means that we literally have to believe that we are "the worst"...what I mean by that is I don't think we need to have a false humility where we think we are garbage and this allows us to see others without judgement. I think what this means is true humility that we recognize our own garbage, our own issues, our own dark moments and realize that we are no better. That there is no hierarchy of sinners. I think that Romans 12:15 backs me up on the first part...the listening with authenticity and empathy. Romans 12:15 says to 'rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep". How can we do this if we aren't empathizing, if we as our true selves are not really there in that moment...furthermore how can we weep with those who weep if we are judging them as they do so? How can we truly follow what Romans 12:15 really says if we're not really hearing one another's stories?
I've always been a firm believer in the power of stories and stories shared (perhaps even this led me to my job as a counsellor). Christ's ministry is full of the power of stories- not only in the form of parables but also in the stories of the people who He interacted with and challenged. Christ is also an incredible example (obviously...) of a present and empathetic listener. The story of the woman at the well (John 4), when He weeps at Lazarus' death and is moved by the sorrow of those gathered (John 11:32-34), his compassion for the widow whose son has died (Luke 7:11-15), and his compassion for the crowds that came to him (Matthew 9:36) to name a few moments. I love that when Christ interacts with people He deals with them and responds to them in a no BS kind of way (read the story of his interaction with the woman at the well...he just calls her out...but calls her out in LOVE!). He feels for them, He feels WITH them, He hears their hurts and fears (unspoken or otherwise) and responds always perfectly to what they are truly communicating. How much we have to learn from not only Christ's telling of stories but the stories of His life.
So, what's your story? What stories do you love? What stories have shaped you? What stories without question speak to that vulnerable, broken, messy part of life and time after time whisper to you that you are not alone?
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