RSS

here i am unraveling…

02 Mar

Idolatry of God
Just finished Peter Rollins’ latest book The Idolatry of God (see my review). Came across this script written by Stephen Caswell that was part of in ikon event Rollins describes. On a day when toxins are again asserting themselves within me like a Cylon resurgence; when I hear of the sudden death of a young son who was ice and cliff climbing as I listen to a father’s grief; when I walk through untold numbers of stories filled with pain as I stroll through hospital corridors; this bit about unraveling is simply exquisite. It is in unraveling that we finally commence raveling; as we are torn down that we are finally built.

Anyway, here’s a bit of unraveling…

Here I am unraveling!
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.
Unraveling. 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 decided 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 unraveling, and I was unraveling fast.
What would be left?

Filled with doubt!
Filled with failure!
Filled with uncertainty!
That’s how it started, this unraveling.
But unraveling and raveling, I was both. They mean the same thing.
I started to see that unraveling didn’t need the negative appendage, the un- prefix.
As if unraveling were to be avoided, to be considered the ruin of my belief, as if this dissection indicated the death of my faith.

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 woolen glory).
But instead of unraveling these threads to expose an embarrassed belief, this raveling disentangles
the web of confusing adornments and décor to make room for the next encounter.

Raveling. Disentangling, not collapsing. My faith didn’t unravel, it raveled.
They mean the same thing.
I learned to revel in raveling.
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.

Forever doubting! Forever failing! Forever uncertain!
I am raveling…

unraveled_2

Advertisements
 
4 Comments

Posted by on March 2, 2013 in Books, Faith, musings, Poetry

 

Tags: , , , , , ,

4 responses to “here i am unraveling…

  1. Sheila

    March 3, 2013 at 1:14 am

    Hmm….yes indeed, that is pretty heavy to consider. There is fear at the thought of pulling the thread. I can see that there is freedom to be had when the thread is pulled until it stops too. Yikes!

     
  2. Jennifer Stuart

    March 27, 2013 at 4:34 am

    I don’t have words for how much I liked this, and your intro to it as well. It’s so true.

     
  3. wordhaver

    March 27, 2013 at 6:54 am

    Thanks Jennifer. It really blesses me you took some time to read through some of these posts – and that you were blessed as you did!

     
  4. Jennifer Stuart

    March 27, 2013 at 3:31 pm

    yes! haha I didn’t get all the way through them because I was getting tired- I look forward to reading more!!

     

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: