Grace Interrupting

I begin this with the caveat that I really don't like using the word "should" in terms of faith.  So, I'm breaking one of my own rules here.  Caveat over.

There's a reason I suspect that we "should" go to church frequently and read the bible frequently, and/or read books by theologians smarter than we are frequently. The reason is that we need to hear the story again and again and again until we actually start to believe it.  Or more accurately we need to hear the story again and again so we can believe it again.

Now I've "believed" it for as long as I can remember - way back from the days when as a tot I sat in Grace Lutheran Church in Hartford, CT and listened to my grandfather play the organ or direct the choir.  At the time, really that was all I paid attention to - the music.  Somehow though, something about Jesus loving me crept into my preschool brain.  The believing seed was planted.

Along the way, sometimes I've believed with a small b.  Sometimes I've believed with invisible ink - the kind of believing you can't really see.  And every now and then God knocks me clean out with some Big B believing.  It's really been pretty fluid - I've always had the image of faith as a river - with me weaving in and out of this believing/faith thing.

Even as I went to Seminary and served churches in volunteer and professional ministry positions, the truth was that every day was not a Big B day.  In fact, I've probably been experiencing a little bit of little b believing for the past few months.  You just get used to the daily grind, you know?  Meeting the new folks.  Organizing the new office.  Having lots of meetings.  Doing paperwork. Planning stuff.  Suddenly putting your faith out there in a blog just seems to daunting and more Big B than you're feeling.  So days turn to months and suddenly you feel like your little b is in danger of being invisible ink b.

And that's almost always when God grabs you by the scruff of your neck, puts someone or something in front of you you can't ignore, and says "Pay attention!"  In other words, Grace works her magic.

Today that someone was Nadia Bolz-Weber.  Now I've heard her before - in videos, interviews blogs, etc.  But as I listened to her interview today on Krista Tippitt's On Being on NPR podcast, God did that scruff of the neck thing.  

As I listened I realized everything she said in the interview resonated with me in a visceral way.  On the surface, I don't have much in common with her.  Unlike Nadia, I've grown up as a Lutheran.  I don't have lots of tattoos - just one, and that pretty new.  I hadn't been addicted in the past to drugs or alcohol.  I grew up a nice suburban girl in nice suburban churches.

But the truth was, my nice suburban girl was always just a cover for the scared, imperfect, highly insecure control addicted freak who lived right below the surface.  I might not have been addicted to drugs or alcohol, but my addiction to look right, act right, and BE right were just as destructive.

Listening to Nadia speak about how Grace interrupts us in a disruptive way, how the Christian life is one of continual death and resurrection (rather than a simple once and done saved experience that leaves you a 'good' person), how God is out to give us a divine heart transplant and how none of that happens when it's exactly convenient to you, lifted a huge boulder off my little b heart.  I had always "known" from growing up in my Lutheran churches that we are "resurrection" people, but never let it sink in deep enough.  Grace resurrects us daily.

I've been reading a lot of Richard Rohr lately, who has helped me make sense of Thomas Merton's whole concept of the true self and the false self.  The language is different, but the concept is the same and dovetailed with what I heard from Nadia: we are beautiful creatures created by the living God, but we spend a whole big part of our life not believing it…not little b believing OR big B believing.  We settle instead for what we think we know is right, where we are comfortable, and what makes sense, keeping that true little self hidden from growing and stretching out into the world.

Richard Rohr, Nadia Bolz-Weber join others who have fertilized my little true self who is trying to bloom.  And every now and again, when I can feel that true self trying to make herself known, I realize it's because I'm having a Big B moment.  Grace has interrupted in a loud, visceral way.

Lately I've been playing around in my head just how important Jesus' command of Do Not Judge is.  Some part of me has sensed that along with loving God and neighbor, this is part of the big truth that we just need to get.  And with the help of Nadia and Richard I think I'm beginning to see just why.

If we are too busy judging others - what they do, who they are, who they love, what race they are, how much money they have, who they voted for, what version of God they do or don't worship - we are missing out on Grace knocking on our door wanting to fertilize our little true self.  We can't see God coming to grab US by the scruff of the neck if we are too busy pointing out the scruffs of other people's necks. We can't see what in us needs the divine heart transplant if we are too busy telling other people they need to change their hearts.  We can't see the people God has put in our lives - from Jesus to the lady in supermarket to the other driver to the waiter who brings you a meal.  We can't see that those people are there for Grace to work her magic.  We miss out on a whole wonderful part of our relationship with God if we're too busy trying to pick the specks out of other peoples' eyes.

We forget this.  We forget how grace works.  We forget that sometimes God graciously gives us Big B moments.  We forget and we go on judging and so we get dragged into little invisible ink b lives.

Until the next moment God tries to get our attention.  Like God got my attention today.  I am thankful for Nadia Bolz-Weber giving me a Big B reminder.  I'm also thankful for a community of faith where opportunities for reminders abound!  I've had more than one face at St. Paul's lift my little b toward the Big B!

I know the story. I've heard it since I was a preschooler sitting in my grandparents' church. 

But it's a story that bears repeating again and again.  Because sometimes it sinks in.