December 12, 2024
One year ago today, I moved into this apartment in Portland. In spite of all the challenges, it has been, hands down, the best year of my life. I just realized that walking from the car this evening. And then I laughed out loud, because I have had absolutely no involvement with a MAN for the entire year! And… get this… I HAVEN’T MISSED IT ONE BIT! Now THAT is progress. And growth. And healing. And maturity.
There is no one single reason why it’s been my best year, but just as I put this to paper, I’m remembering a few years back, when I was lamenting an upcoming birthday to Katie. And she said, “Why are you thinking like that? This year could be the best year of your life!” Well it took a few years, but this was the year. YAY ME!
This is the conclusion from my final paper for Intro to Theology, which I HATED. It’s a tragedy, too, because the history of religion is my thing. Bad professor, a slog from start to finish. I’m in a group chat with eight of my cohorts and I am most definitely not the only one who feels this way. My final paper, I think, sucked bad. But we’ll see. I’ve pasted the Conclusion below, all about my “fluxy” theology. I liked this part OK.
I resigned myself to a C very early on in the semester. I’ve heard over and over “Cs get degrees!” But in spite of being resigned to a C, I’ve stressed endlessly about it. My ridiculous Performance Orientation, which served me exceptionally well in my career as a software analyst for three decades, but it is a trait that I need to release at this point in my life. It no longer serves anything but my anxiety, and it’s completely unnecessary. I’m not in school to prepare for a long career ahead in ministry. I’m in school because I’ve always wanted to study this subject, I had a miraculous opportunity to do so, and it helps immensely with the bipolar depression.
And so.
As always.
I Persevere. And life goes on.
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CONCLUSION
I no longer claim the label “Christian” because of how it’s been co-opted by White Christian Nationalists. I’ve been pondering a good descriptor for a long time. I tried “deist,” but that isn’t specific enough. I’ve recently landed upon “Christian Adjacent.” Whatever I am, I am definitely a Universalist.
I’ve thought a lot about what my sources and norms are. I’ve had a difficult time with this concept, and each of my cohorts has explained it to me in a slightly different way. I have concluded that my theological sources are experience, reason, scripture, and academics. As far as I understand the concept, norms are the “filters” through which I view my sources. My filters are that I am an older white woman, and I suffer mercilessly with bipolar depression. To manage my condition, I’ve been in therapy long-term. It has not only saved my life, it has healed me in the way I view God, myself, my life, and the world.
I approach learning in an open, inquisitive, and exploratory way. For a very long time, I was closed off to learning about doctrines I was convinced might be heretical for fear of hell. I was always curious about other religions and how they shaped people’s world view, but I was frightened to learn about them. Yet, I have always been fascinated by people’s stories, and desirous to learn of their religious beliefs and spiritual progression. I am a learner always. Currently, I am on a more specific mission. I am driven to seek information about how religions have framed other people’s world views in the hopes it will help me process and come to terms with what is happening in our country right now.
My theology is in flux. Serious flux. I am heavy into my own faith deconstruction journey. Since embarking on this quest, the biggest change in me has been my ability to lean into the fact there is much more randomness in life than I used to feel comfortable acknowledging. I used to believe everything happened for a reason, that God is in complete control of everything. But knowing who I know God to be, and in dealing with the problem of evil, there’s no credibility to the concept of God as sovereign, and so I reject that attribute. As I stated before, I reject the notion of an Omnipotent God and embrace Process Theologian Tom Oord’s concept of an Amipotent God.
I also used to believe every life had some grand master plan. I used to believe at some point in life, you discover your destiny, and only then can you come into the fullness of who God intended you to be. But that’s not it, either. Although I choose to partner with God, I’m doing it, it’s me, and it’s all on me. I’m walking my own path; I’m making my own choices. The future is undefined and unknown, and I do not exist and move through this life on the whim of some supreme spiritual being. I now believe that instead of “God’s plan for your life,” you come into the fullness of who you are — not who you were meant to be as defined by some external force or predetermined destiny — but who you truly are — just You. Singular You. And maybe that’s an epiphany, or maybe it’s just a gradual unfolding process that comes with the wisdom of aging. Regardless, my transformation has always been happening and will surely continue.
The thing I appreciate most about the Brite community is the emphasis on amplifying all voices and hearing and valuing each of our unique stories and their impact on our learning. I see threads of my experience woven throughout all of our stories. I am so privileged to be on this journey.
Being exposed to the number and breadth of theologians we’ve covered this semester means that my already “in flux” theology remains every bit as much “in flux”. Just when I think I’ve pinned down how I feel about some aspect of spirituality, I learn something new, and it all goes back into the hopper for complete reevaluation (and often complete overhaul). I was discussing this with a cohort, and she said, “It sounds like you’re deconstructing. I know how frightening that can be.” Yes, I am deconstructing, but it is not frightening. Once I let go of the idea that I had to hit on the “right theology” to stay out of hell, I got free to let new ideas flow in without reacting in fear. That means I can hear all manner of things I once would have feared as heretical and just take it in to ponder on. Whereas at one time Queer Theology would have made my stomach knot up, now, I find it fascinating, and I fully recognize there is much there that is useful for me to incorporate into my own beliefs.
Some may say that since I’m so wide open to spiritual practices and theological streams, it means I stand for nothing. But I don’t see it that way. At each step in the journey, I stand for something — I just continuously acknowledge, to myself and to others, that I’m not stuck where I stand.
Photo by Jan Mellström on Unsplash