Doubt

(from Sunday… and partially inspired by a conversation with Aaron 2wks ago, although the idea was one I’d pondered often prior…)

We are defined by doubt.

We are defined by doubt, because certainty is the antithesis of faith.  If we did not doubt, we could not believe.

Certainty is of the enemy, because only God is perfect Truth, and our imperfect perceptions can never hope to approximate true knowledge.  I thank the Lord for the wisdom and the courage to embrace doubt, because the strength we cultivate by wrestling with angels will serve us well when wrestling with demons.

We were made curious and questioning, with hearts and minds that ache to search for Truth.  Let us pursue this relentlessly, and never give in to the desire to think that we already know.

“Worship”

All this talk of worship the past week, especially in discussion last night, reminded me of a song that I wrote a couple of years ago (April 11th & 20th, 2008, to be exact, hehe, I’m such a dork!)  I don’t know; I think it’s relevant, so I figured I’d share it here:

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We see your strength in rushing river, crashing tide

We see your countenance upon the mountainside

We see your beauty in each flower and each tree

The earth reflects your majesty!

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Here we stand

Upon the wonder you have wrought, Lord

Here we stand

Imperfect ecohes of your voice

Here we stand,

and honor you with every thought, Lord

We thank you for your gifts with every choice

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You are the answer when we shout into the storm

You are the glory of the function and the form

You are the dancing of both melody and flame

With all the stars, we praise your name!

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Here we stand

(etc)

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You are in the night,

You are in the day

You’re in what we do, and in what we say

You are in the sky

You are in the sea

You’re in all you’ve made

and You are inside me!

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Here we stand

(etc)

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So, yeah – there you have it.  I don’t share my songs very often, so consider yourselves lucky! (even though – or perhaps moreso because – you can’t hear the tune hehe!)

From the “Is this Inspiration?” file…

Last week, driving through my neighborhood returning home from I-don’t-know-where, I was struck my the make-up of our community.  Not in terms of people, but in terms of businesses and services.  I commented to my boyfriend James that as a city, we are filled with places where people go to make themselves sick, and places they go to get well… but we are severely lacking in places for people to go just to BE.  At the time, I was specifically lamenting the lack of art, and the way that art is treated by the people here… but the important thing about that exchange is that at the time, I was most sincerely classifying our multitude of churches under the “places people go to get well” column.

Last Sunday, God told me I was wrong.

Or, rather, that I was right, and that it grieves Him, too.

During worship at church, I had one of those moments where I have to stop everything, pull out my notebook, and begin writing feverishly.  This is what I wrote:

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A church – our God – is not a doctor or a therapist.  A church in the glory of God is a theater, a museum, a gallery, a concert hall.  Too many come to church, come to God, for healing – which is possible, but not the point.  We sin all week, cause sickness in our souls, and think church is where we go to get well.  NO!!!  Church is where we go to stand in awe!  Like any great art, it can be a balm to our soul, but it isn’t about us.  Do we go see a great painting, an amazing play, and assume it was done all for our benefit?  Even when it touches us so deeply that we feel that way, we know that it serves a higher purpose.

Others treat church – God – as the drug rather than the treatment.  We come craving a high, wanting to feel good about ourselves.  NO!!  The Word is not a bar where you can choose your drink, your favorite line, and ignore the rest.  Like all great art, God challenges as often as He comforts.

Faith perfectly attuned to a perfect God sits at the place where both healing and hurting touch, but cannot enter.  It isn’t about the future, or the past.  Like a great symphony, it captures us.  It forces us to EXIST, in each perfect moment, in perfect communion.

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Just a rough scribble.  Take it for what it’s worth