EXTRA! SO VERY EXTRA!

Archive for September, 2013|Monthly archive page

CBW seeks words from MDP

In and other uncomfortable topics, Thoughts on Christianity on September 30, 2013 at 3:48 am

This Christian Black Woman is seeking words written by a Modern Day Peter.

As I was writing my last post, I realized that’s what I’m looking for: a modern-day Peter who has written his/her story of how s/he tried to walk on water…..and succeeded for a moment (and it was glorious), but ultimately failed.

These verses are from Matthew 14:

22 Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. 23 After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, 24 and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.

25 Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. 26 When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.

27 But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

28 “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”

29 “Come,” he said.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”

31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him.“You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”

32 And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down.33 Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

The majesty of this story is not really in the fact that Peter walked on water–though that is undeniably cool. The beauty of the story is that Peter’s fear got the better of him but the moment he called out for help: Jesus was IMMEDIATELY there, held out His hand, and they walked back to the boat together.

I used to think about how stupid it was for Peter to doubt–particularly after he’d been walking on the water already. I used to think that the image of Peter sinking was anti-climatic. But, not anymore. I can’t put down the impulses of being human, and now I can only imagine the gripping terror that must have seized on Peter when he realized that he was milliseconds away from drowning and the only thing keeping him upright was the invisible love of Jesus and his own invisible faith.

I need more stories from those who got back into the boat.

Searching for Books

In and other uncomfortable topics, Somewhat disjointed rant..., Thoughts on Christianity on September 30, 2013 at 3:23 am

I’ve been searching for books written by people who have struggled with their faith but, ultimately, come back.

If you know of a title, please leave it in the comments.

I would love to read something personal, and perhaps in the style of a memoir. For me, reading a book is (right now) the closest thing that I allow myself to really commiserate and explore ways to heal other than laughter and soldering on.

It is not that I doubt the existence of God. I see the earth and life as lacy creations knitted by God–and I believe God is. But, what I have lost touch with is the daily, moment by moment meditation on the love of God and the way of Christ. The in touch part of me has not disappeared, but has folded in upon itself and become dense and buried deep. I rarely share that part of me anymore–not because I hang around a rough living crowd. But, because that is the part of me that is softest and most tender and most often hurt.

That leaves me between the rock of faith and an emotionally hard place. Perhaps I wouldn’t get hurt if I had more faith….guarded my heart….put my trust in God rather than man….prayed more….meditated more…..been more discerning? Perhaps I am supposed to be hurt? Maybe that part of a human that experiences God has to be tender and soft and, therefore, more susceptible to scarring.

What I doubt is if I was actually in touch daily and moment by moment. Was I serving God or placating myself? So, in a purely post-modern perhaps Freudian and definitely selfish way I doubt my own ability to serve God. I doubt the rhetoric, the jargon, the words, the phrases, the clichés of the Christian religion. I am paranoid of these things and I constantly question if they are genuine or simply designed to pierce through to that tender and soft place in me and numerous other listeners/watchers/parishioners/congregations.

I need to know that I’m not the only one whose ever lacked courage when it comes to Christ. Because, in the end, that is what I am lacking. I am afraid to get hit again where I know it will hurt most.