finding freedom in allowing for confusion
Of the many things ushered in by the Information Age, the most detrimental has been the death of curiosity and the demand for answers. We no longer ponder questions; we search for answers. We stopped wrestling with God and instead began to arrogantly consider our “facts” as final conclusions. In a way, we abandoned creative thought and exploration—it is no longer acceptable to be wrong as determined by others or even simply uninformed; the societal expectation appears to be that a lack of omniscience is an unforgivable sin. Our culture’s aim at knowing with certainty may appear righteous, but the implications are tremendous: recipes are recreated instead of invented, interpretations of art are prescribed instead of explored, massive quantities of headlines are skimmed and believed but never pondered and evaluated, and we allow ourselves to be told who we are instead of sitting in relationship with God curious of His thoughts. We no longer consider ourselves to be an ongoing process being moved by the Spirit through sanctification. While abandoning the creative aspect of the image of God is problematic enough, we, more importantly, stopped listening. This includes waiting and listening for the voice of God.
Allowing for moments, seasons, or topics in which we experience confusion and finiteness, on the other hand, grants us the humility required to wrestle with God and listen to His voice. When we are permitted to confess our limited understandings, observe our imperfections, and even laugh at our silliness, we make room for God to finally have a voice in our internal dialogue. We make room for the notion that perhaps God knows more than we do. However, when in stubbornness we grit our teeth and demand our perspective we, instead, claim our supremacy over God.
Our inner arrogant authoritarian demands a solidified perspective of self while suppressing potential challenging alternatives. Unfortunately, that voice is typically critical, demeaning, and condemning. Thankfully, this is not the only voice seated at the table; there is Another.
The psychiatrist, Carl Jung, in speaking about Jesus’ teachings on loving your enemies, posed a particular question: what if the least of these, what if your most hated enemy, was the person seen in the mirror? Throughout Scripture, God’s perspective of us, His treatment of us even when we were His enemies, is very clear: because of His uncontainable love, He died for us. Perhaps the battle against our inner critic is best won by accepting that we have a confused perspective and need His voice.