What If We Have It All ... Backwards?
Growing up, I was always taught that the Scriptures ...
The Bible.
The Old Testament.
The New Testament.
... Were a deep well of wisdom that my soul needed to dip into.
I was told that by reading the Bible, studying the Bible, praying the Bible, sharing the Bible, knowing the Bible ... that with each book read, each chapter meditated on, each verse memorized, each study attended ... that I would dip the bucket of my soul a little bit deeper into the well and draw up new and profound wisdom that had never before crossed my mind.
Want to know how to be a good person? Dip your soul into the well.
Want to know right from wrong? Read the Bible.
Want to know how to make that decision? Study the Bible.
Want to know how to know God more? Pray the words of the Bible.
In other words, the Bible (I was told) is the Source of all Wisdom and my empty bucket of a soul will try to fill itself up with all sorts of worldly things (popularity, alcohol, sex, overeating, etc, etc, etc) ... but the only way it will TRULY be filled and TRULY come to know God and TRULY be happy is by dipping into the Well of the Holy Scriptures and drawing from the Wisdom it finds at the bottom.
These days, though, I'm wondering if we have it backwards.
Because.
What if ... what if our souls are actually the wells of wisdom? AND what if the various verses and chapters of the Bible (or other holy scriptures, for that matter - the Qur'an, the Gnostic texts, etc, etc) are the buckets that God or the Divine or whatever uses to dip into the depths of our inner beings and stir up the wisdom that has always been there, but that has been dormant or covered up by the circumstances of life?
Yes.
And I wonder this because a few days ago I was reading from the Gospel of Luke where the writer is talking about Jesus' "triumphal entry" into Jerusalem and he says that the people who were gathered "spread their cloaks in the road" before Jesus and it struck me that the people's cloaks were their outermost garments and that by throwing them on the road before Jesus, they were throwing before Jesus the outermost part of their wardrobe that everyone was able to see so as to reveal what was beneath it.
And that made me think about me.
And you.
And all of us.
Right?
Because how many of us walk around with our cloak-ego (our outer layer of protective attitude that the world sees) while we hide our insecurities and worries and fears beneath it - the stuff that we know is there, but that we wouldn't dare show to anyone else?
As I was thinking about this, I felt the bucket or the cup of that story in Luke's Gospel dip into the depths of my soul and stir something up that had been there all along, but that I had forgotten about because life is hard and sometimes it's easier to put a strong face on the outside and act like I have it all together than it is to toss that cloak before the feet of Jesus and walk through life as my true, authentic self. And the thing that it stirred up in me was a reminder that I have a habit of feeling like I always need to have the answer or be right or know what I'm talking about because if I don't, people will leave me.
That sounds really stupid, but it's the world I was brought up in.
1 Peter, I was told ...
In Private Christian School.
In college.
In seminary.
As a pastor.
... says that I should always have an answer for the questions that people ask me about my faith and so my professors in school drilled into my head the importance of knowing my theology and being able to explain my theology. "After all, unless you can explain it to a child so that a child can understand it", they said, "then you really don't know what you're talking about."
Study.
Study.
Study.
Read.
Read.
Read.
... And be able to dumb down the iceberg of knowledge you have so that a child can understand it; and if you can't then you really don't understand it and if you don't understand it then people will find out you don't understand it and when they find out, they won't take you seriously anymore, they won't listen to you anymore, they'll leave your church, they'll take their money elsewhere, and you'll be left with nothing and no one.
And so I have a habit (even today) of feeling like I need to wear a cloak that makes it seem to everyone around me that I have it all together and know what I'm talking about , an annoying voice inside that says I need to ...
Be part of every conversation.
Make a comment on everyone's comment.
Have an answer to every question.
... because if people ever find out that I don't or if they think I'm too quiet or don't know enough, then they'll stop listening to the podcast, stop supporting on Patreon, laugh at me behind my back, and I'll lose all the community I've worked so hard to build.
"You better listen to those Marco Polo videos and respond to each one or else people will think you're a fraud."
"So and so posted on the page a question about the atonement. You better brush up on your theology."
"You're talking to Bart Ehrman on the podcast, the episode will easily get 50,000 downloads - you better make sure you know your stuff."
Study.
Study.
Study.
Read.
Read.
Read.
... and know your sh*t, have the answers ... or people will leave you.
And so the bucket of Luke's story of the triumphal entry dipped into the well of my soul and stirred the waters, reminding me that these cloaks have no place in my life and that I'm free to toss those cloaks before Jesus and live as my authentic self ...
The self who doesn't always know the answers.
The self who sometimes stumbles over his words when explaining things.
The self who doesn't always know what to say when he's put on the spot.
The self who can write a thought much better than he can speak it.
The self who feels like he knows less and less each and every day.
The self who doesn't always know what to say in response to a Marco Polo or a post on the Facebook page ... or even have the time to fully listen, read, or respond.
The self who doesn't even believe in the atonement anymore.
The self who just needs to show himself some grace, the same love and grace he'd show to anyone else.
... You see, this wisdom had always been there. My soul didn't dip into Luke's Gospel and discover a profound idea I had never thought of before. Instead, Luke's Gospel dipped into my soul, stirred the waters, and drew up wisdom that had always been there but was covered up beneath years and years and years of education in a Private Christian School, Bible College, Seminary, graduate degrees, etc.
I'm telling you all of this because how I view the Bible is changing drastically ... and has changed drastically over the last 3+ years. I no longer see the Bible as the inerrant Word of God, but as a very errant book that has fascinating stories filled with fascinating characters who hold up a mirror to my life so that I can look at them and remember things about myself that I have long forgotten.
This happens when I read the Bible.
It happens when I watch Spider-man movies.
It happened when I watched Turning Red.
It happens when I play The Legend of Zelda.
... God or the Divine or whatever, I believe, dips these metaphors or cups or buckets into my heart and stirs the waters so that hardened wisdom can be softened and liquified and drawn up to the surface of my life, helping me to wake up so that I can live as the person I've always had the potential to be.
Much love.
Glenn