Literally have been having the word Christianese rolling around my head and thoughts this last week! You always have the words to say and express what I haven’t been able to articulate. Words are not my gift so thank you for always having the right ones to say that give me answers and a way to breathe knowing it’s not just me. ❤️
Stunning!!!! I walk away today carrying a simple prayer… let love fill the hole… the judgment in my heart and let me see each person as someone I am connected to!!!
Speaking or writing or drawing or painting of the sacred is an extremely fragile enterprise—as is building and sustaining relationships. But despite the many times our words and works seem to whoosh right past one another without making a meaningful connection, we keep trying. We must.
Your approach is appropriate. I've found that my "voice" shifts as I write to someone I yearn to love well. In your post, I hear this same kind of subtle voice shift and perhaps a tiny bit more of the tenderness in your heart. Know that I (and many others, based on the comments below) don't take this lightly. It's a precious gift. Thank you.
It's extraordinarily painful to feel like an outsider to the Church. Even traumatic. I've been there. To a large degree, I am still an outsider, though I do my best to show up and be present. The bad news is that much of what hurts me is still there, and I often go into emotional spasms when it shows up. But the good news is that I'm sensing something new emerging in the Church and in me.
I found a spark in a tiny congregation in Edinburgh, Scotland. I've felt strong flickerings in the writings of folks like Curt Thompson, Wesley Vander Lugt, N.T. Wright, Kelly Kapic, Mako Fujimora, and many more. Something is afoot. A kind of new "wineskin" is being offered to the Church that offers a more expansive space for the Spirit to move in mysterious ways. But it's not about scale, or anything that can be bought or sold or programmed. It's not about a new doctrine, but a revivification of an ancient one that we seem to have forgotten how to live into. You are right. We need a new language for this.
SO much goodness here, but I want you to know that your footnotes are often my favorite part of your writing (both in your books and Substack). It's a bonus view into your creative brilliance. Thanks for who you are. <3
"And I want—I pray—for Christ to become my consciousness so that my judgement of those who do not speak like me, who do not vote like me, who might not yet have suffered like me, who perhaps have not shared privileges I have had, who see my language as heresy or my heart as deceived can also be held in unending connection and love."
This is so hopeful. Especially "who might not yet have suffered like me." When someone I love thoughtlessly rails against people on disability or puts "logic" over "feelings" my blood pretty much vaporizes in an instant. But I can hope for Christ to flow through that without erasing my righteous indignation and turn my response into love.
Well, this just brought me to tears before my morning coffee. In the best way.
What once held comfort and certainty, now is grating and constricting. The language I once used (and filled 2 books with 😳) feels so so small and foreign for how I now live. Many of the things I’d freely and casually tell thousands of strangers from pulpits and blog posts, I no longer want to share at all. Yet I feel more connected to the One Who is Love than I ever did by “trying” to be more connected. I am learning to be grateful for good things without being an turd and not to have to explain hard things as anything other than what they are.
My language has morphed to Wonder, Love and metaphor to in a very faltering way explain a new journey I really am still… and I hope I will always be finding new language for. Where I felt moved by worship music and settings, I find my being in silence and sunshine and dirt and sitting under trees. Of harvesting pennywort (dollar weed) from my lawn and replanting it in its own patch. (It’s edible and delicious.)
I still love Jesus with all my breath but my language and experience of Christ has grown in the last decade of dark hard things… which leaves many people in my world worried about my theology and eternity. That and I cuss judiciously now.
I guess you could say my language was once tame and content with cages, but has been rescued, rehabilitated and allowed to be released back to the wild where its is allowed to exist in a place deeper than words. Even if that wild place is simply my backyard.
Thank you KJ. I forwarded Ryan’s recent post to my adult children and some dear friends. It was so good! And I will do the same with this. Thank you for articulating the oft unspoken, unnamed experience of so many of us. Grateful for your courage to put these words out in the universe. I am reading and holding them with much thought and care. Jackie P
Literally have been having the word Christianese rolling around my head and thoughts this last week! You always have the words to say and express what I haven’t been able to articulate. Words are not my gift so thank you for always having the right ones to say that give me answers and a way to breathe knowing it’s not just me. ❤️
Stunning!!!! I walk away today carrying a simple prayer… let love fill the hole… the judgment in my heart and let me see each person as someone I am connected to!!!
Speaking or writing or drawing or painting of the sacred is an extremely fragile enterprise—as is building and sustaining relationships. But despite the many times our words and works seem to whoosh right past one another without making a meaningful connection, we keep trying. We must.
Your approach is appropriate. I've found that my "voice" shifts as I write to someone I yearn to love well. In your post, I hear this same kind of subtle voice shift and perhaps a tiny bit more of the tenderness in your heart. Know that I (and many others, based on the comments below) don't take this lightly. It's a precious gift. Thank you.
It's extraordinarily painful to feel like an outsider to the Church. Even traumatic. I've been there. To a large degree, I am still an outsider, though I do my best to show up and be present. The bad news is that much of what hurts me is still there, and I often go into emotional spasms when it shows up. But the good news is that I'm sensing something new emerging in the Church and in me.
I found a spark in a tiny congregation in Edinburgh, Scotland. I've felt strong flickerings in the writings of folks like Curt Thompson, Wesley Vander Lugt, N.T. Wright, Kelly Kapic, Mako Fujimora, and many more. Something is afoot. A kind of new "wineskin" is being offered to the Church that offers a more expansive space for the Spirit to move in mysterious ways. But it's not about scale, or anything that can be bought or sold or programmed. It's not about a new doctrine, but a revivification of an ancient one that we seem to have forgotten how to live into. You are right. We need a new language for this.
SO much goodness here, but I want you to know that your footnotes are often my favorite part of your writing (both in your books and Substack). It's a bonus view into your creative brilliance. Thanks for who you are. <3
"And I want—I pray—for Christ to become my consciousness so that my judgement of those who do not speak like me, who do not vote like me, who might not yet have suffered like me, who perhaps have not shared privileges I have had, who see my language as heresy or my heart as deceived can also be held in unending connection and love."
This is so hopeful. Especially "who might not yet have suffered like me." When someone I love thoughtlessly rails against people on disability or puts "logic" over "feelings" my blood pretty much vaporizes in an instant. But I can hope for Christ to flow through that without erasing my righteous indignation and turn my response into love.
Well, this just brought me to tears before my morning coffee. In the best way.
What once held comfort and certainty, now is grating and constricting. The language I once used (and filled 2 books with 😳) feels so so small and foreign for how I now live. Many of the things I’d freely and casually tell thousands of strangers from pulpits and blog posts, I no longer want to share at all. Yet I feel more connected to the One Who is Love than I ever did by “trying” to be more connected. I am learning to be grateful for good things without being an turd and not to have to explain hard things as anything other than what they are.
My language has morphed to Wonder, Love and metaphor to in a very faltering way explain a new journey I really am still… and I hope I will always be finding new language for. Where I felt moved by worship music and settings, I find my being in silence and sunshine and dirt and sitting under trees. Of harvesting pennywort (dollar weed) from my lawn and replanting it in its own patch. (It’s edible and delicious.)
I still love Jesus with all my breath but my language and experience of Christ has grown in the last decade of dark hard things… which leaves many people in my world worried about my theology and eternity. That and I cuss judiciously now.
I guess you could say my language was once tame and content with cages, but has been rescued, rehabilitated and allowed to be released back to the wild where its is allowed to exist in a place deeper than words. Even if that wild place is simply my backyard.
So freaking grateful for you! 🥰🥰🥰
Thank you KJ. I forwarded Ryan’s recent post to my adult children and some dear friends. It was so good! And I will do the same with this. Thank you for articulating the oft unspoken, unnamed experience of so many of us. Grateful for your courage to put these words out in the universe. I am reading and holding them with much thought and care. Jackie P
Thankful for your voice and this letter. Sitting In a similar place and I find comfort everytime you share your words, friend. ❤️