for which i'm immensely grateful.
many of you will know that my observance of the lenten season this year included giving up something. not coffee (would have been no sacrifice at all), not chocolate (moderate sacrifice), not facebook (humungous sacrifice).
instead i decided to part ways with God for a time.
this turned out to be a confusing, amusing, distressing, and intriguing decision - at least to many of you. so i thought that i would take a few sentences to unpack some of my post-lenten reflections here.
to learn or not to learn ...
1. you can't just trade in your paradigms for twenty cents
it was harder than i thought to 'give up God'. after centering my life on Jesus for the last 23 years, even choosing to stop praying and shelving the bible didn't constitute a complete walkaway. fundamentally i still believed, and my ethics, habits, and relationships still evidenced the cumulative effects of faith. if it's that hard to try to engage the world of the atheist, imagine how difficult it must be to authentically appreciate the world from a
(fill-in-the-blank)point of view.
2. don't make me go all R.E.M. on you
i had to expect that this would be an edgy experiment, for me and for others. at the same time i'd hoped that through conversation and a declaration of intentions that those who were curious about this project would appreciate it.
in fact few took it seriously. i think that i became a bit of a sideshow to many people.
a disappointment, yes. maybe mostly because i'd hoped that others might consider engaging atheism for lent with me the next time that i do it, and that a group experience of it might prove even richer.
3. old dog, old tricks
the third commandment out of the famous ten says 'you shall not take the Lord's name in vain'.
in vain. that means in an empty, meaningless way, right?
because God's name is His identity, His power.
i realized after a few days of fasting from God that i was taking His name in vain all over the place. not because i was swearing, but because i was so in the automatic habit of saying grace, of reading the bible with my raisin bran in the morning, of turning on christian music in the car.
it was rote, routine, mindless, empty. in vain.
i thought that i was being disciplined, training myself in the good ways of christian spirituality.
after 30 some odd days of avoiding the empty rituals, now i want to do these things again. really want to.
4. comfortably numb
if there's any advantage to be spoken of when becoming a functional atheist, it's the absence of psychological distress.
when you hold yourself to a higher (external) standard, you know what happens? you often fail. and when you condemn or indict yourself for those errors you fall under the microscope of hypocrisy.
but hey, if there's no God in your life, you're not worried about this stuff! second looks at short skirts, venomous words let loose, unnecessary and indulgent trips to the chocolate cupboard - all stress free. funny how you can sail through life when you don't believe that you need to know any better.
5. you don't deserve nuthin' (or "a double negative for all the right reasons")
the scary part about taking a sabbath away from God is wondering whether or not He'll hold that against you. but at least i have this going for me: finishing this lenten experiment, i come to God with no expectation of being re-embraced to the fold. no sense of entitlement.
but it was there before.
theological student. pastor. church planter. husband of but one wife. daily reader of the scriptures. counted on as a reliable counselor.
an impressive resume for acceptance. at least to me. now its
at least now i'm being honest with myself - and before God.
6. running on empty
as someone who goes out running on the roads in and around barrie, i do not run with any kind of music/mp3 device. some of my training runs eclipse three hours in duration ... a long time to just be humming "down by the bay".
i've often elected to use that time to commune with my body, with nature and with God. an interesting thing happened during lent - the runs became very lonely. almost eerily so. not because i stopped hearing God's voice - but because i was keenly aware of the sheer silence in my spirit.
i'm hoping to get my running buddy back soon.