I’ve gone to church all my life, primarily to some derivative
of a white, evangelical conservative Christian congregation. As a result, I have hard-wired messages
deeply ingrained in my psyche. Early on,
I remember having a dime deposited into my white, wooden, church-shaped piggy
bank if I showed up having memorized the weekly bible verse. It was that particular church that a scandal
had been uncovered involving the pastor skimming off the top of the offering
basket funds. That was the first
memorable indiscretion from a spiritual leader in my life, but not the only one,
and definitely not the most grotesque one.
All my life, I’ve heard, in a multitude of ways, that
transformation is a central part of the Christian faith. I heard it when I was four. I heard it when I was forty-four and every
age in between. Repentance, change of
heart, change of mind – this is the way to God.
My whole life. And Transformation
is something I deeply believe in. For
the world to change, every human must undergo transformation. And it is not a one-time event. It is ongoing.
Here’s the rub: there is a huge disconnect in the church. I am realizing that all this time, when
leaders talk about transformation in the church, it has a different meaning
than how I think of it. When leaders
talk about transformation, they are talking about ridding the self of sin, or
the “sinful nature”. And that means
different things to different groups.
Transformation is so much more than behavior modification. So much more.
Tragically, the word transformation has been misused as a spiritual
abuse tactic to control and manipulate and keep ownership of God in the right
hands. When they say transformation,
they don’t mean changing your views on theology. And, as a woman, if I have thoughts of my own
about God and my experience of him, they are not to be trusted, especially, if
it could lead to different theological ideas.
I was taught transformation, and as I went along in my
exploration of the deep things of God, I began to change my mind. I was on my own transformational path. As I went further down that path, I became
more aware of how vast God is. He began
to push the limits of my experience of him.
He extended beyond my family, beyond my neighborhood, beyond my church
experience, beyond my affluent town, beyond my state, beyond, (dare I say it)
my country, beyond the world, beyond the universe. He kept expanding, even as the church
continued to attempt to contain Him.
I began to look at my inherited ways of thinking. And I realized, as I listened to the words of
a dear friend, describing coming out of the church like being spit up onto the
shore from the belly of a whale, wrapped in debris and seaweed, it was going to
require a sloughing off of the refuse of toxic thinking. Transformation takes much time, reflection
and a deep centered inquiry.
Some things are so deeply ingrained as a default, that we
hardly even know a poison could be there.
Do you know when I had my first baby at 24, I asked my mom what her
breastfeeding experience was like. Do
you know what she said? She said she
didn’t breastfeed us. When I asked her
why, she said it wasn’t the thing to do back then. Only biker chicks and hippies breastfed their
babies. At the time, we both chuckled at
it. And no shame, mom! But I use this as an example of the ways we
default to the reality we’ve been given.
I have been slowly waking up over the years. And it is shocking, even alarming, to see
things I’m still asleep to. These months
of 2020 have been a blaring alarm clock, jolting me out of yet another slumber.
I had never heard the term redlining or been aware of the
Juneteenth holiday before this year.
Things are beginning to make sense that, shamefully, have never added
up, but I’ve never had the curiosity or the drive to investigate further. I am deeply disturbed, devastated and sad
over the things that are happening in our country right now. And I also see this time as crucially
important.
Through means of a deadly virus, we have been given a pause. It feels like a pivotal pause. Transformation is usually the result of quiet
solitude, perhaps even some inner darkness and definitely suffering. Just look at the classic butterfly example of
transformation. Transformation should
definitely CHANGE your views and experience of God. If it hasn’t done that, it’s not
transformation. The church preaches
transformation, through phrases like, “becoming more Christ-like”, but when
that actually happens on a personal level and some doctrines shift around, it
is rejected. We should be changing…. Ever
changing. No one has the corner market on
God or what “correct” theology or doctrine is.
It is dangerous to think so, because if you think you are right, then
there is no room for transformation.
What if I could shift my stance of being right or having
answers, to being receptive? Deeply
receptive to myself, others and God? I
think having a mind of inquiry, curiosity and receptivity could change my
life. And I think it could change yours
too. But it is difficult to do. It requires bravery because it means you might
be wrong and instead of being defensive, you must go receptive. Ugh…. So hard to do, yes?? But, we must.
Because I want a better world than what we have right now. I want a world where ALL humans
flourish.
Where do you need to change
your mind?