You don’t look at atrocities and ask, ‘What is God trying to teach the world through this horror?’

There are kinds of suffering that your effort to bring meaning, ineffability distorts and destroys the potential for any meaning whatsoever. If you think suffering can be quantified in some type of learning principle, you have made mockery of your own suffering, let alone the suffering of others.

Don’t look for meaning, meaning will come to you, frankly meaning will come knock on your door in ways you do not need to be looking… You don’t have much to do with God, He has much to do with you.

—Dr. Dan Allender

The following is an excerpt from Peter Rollins’ newest book, The Idolatry of God: Breaking Our Addiction to Certainty and Satisfaction. In this section, Rollins describes a service in which those gathered are invited to interact with and change the words as they saw fit to the Nicene Creed. At the close of the service, the finished arrangement as follows was then read aloud:

I believe that creeds aren’t worth the paper they are written on… But I still believe in God. 
I believe that if you look at my life, you’ll only sometimes see what I believe.
I believe that if we have two coats, we should give one away (though I don’t do it).
Today I don’t believe in anything; tomorrow who knows.
I sometimes believe in God—one who existed before time, beyond gender or fathom.
Maker of heaven and earth and ginger (all good things), whales, two-hundred-foot cliffs, cloud banks, shipwrecks,
And in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son our Lord,
Who was conceived by the Holy Ghost—how?
Born of a fourteen-year-old, Mary, scared out of her wits
Was crucified, dead, and buried, and I used to believe in the penal substitution theory of atonement, but now I just see a violent death and struggle to see how violence can ever be redemptive…
He descended into hell, or was hell all around him all the time?
The third day he rose again from the dead.
He ascended into safety of abstraction, away from having to feel this, from dealing with this,
And sits, maybe sprawls, on the right hand of God, the Father Almighty.
I believe in me; I believe in the Spirit, Sophia, wisdom…
The holy catholic (i.e., everybody) Church;
The Communion of saints; does this mean me?
LOVE
The Forgiveness of sins (but I still fell shame); (don’t you?)
The Resurrection of the body.
I believe in singing the body electric
And the life everlasting,
A life we find right here in our midst.

(p. 192-193) 

~   Peter Rollins, The Idolatry of God: Breaking Our Addiction to Certainty and Satisfaction, p. 155-156. 

Our biggest problem is that we build our religious identity by enforcing hostility toward the other. “I learn who I am by learning who I am against.” This “oppositional identity” is rooted in “fear of the other.”

May we find a way to express our faith as that which moves us toward the other. 

Excerpt from The Allender Center blog:

As our hearts attempt to “make sense” of our own personal suffering, let alone the suffering and injustice in our world, contempt often serves to temporarily restore equilibrium. We may, somewhere within us, desire healing and justice for ourselves and others, but contempt is far more readily available. Fundamentally, contempt is an escape from feelings of guilt, shame, powerlessness and helplessness—to survive experiences that feel God-less.

~   Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse

Rachel Held Evans says it well: 

Yesterday was one of those days…

Is this what following Jesus is supposed to be about? Eating a chicken sandwich to prove a point? 

Is this what mobilizes the people of God? 

~   Peter Rollins, “Stop Teaching the Ethics of Jesus”

The following excerpt is from Sören Kierkegaard’s, Fear and Trembling. Kierkegaard adds commentary offering a unique spin on the Biblical story of Abraham’s journey to sacrifice Isaac. It is so worth reading:

“And God tempted Abraham and said unto him, Take Isaac, Mine only son, whom thou loves, and get thee into the land of Moriah, and offer him there for a burnt offering upon the mountain which I will show thee.”

It was early in the morning, Abraham arose betimes, he had the asses saddled, left his tent, and Isaac with him, but Sarah looked out of the window after them until they had passed down the valley and she could see them no more. They rode in silence for three days. On the morning of the fourth day Abraham said never a word, but he lifted up his eyes and saw Mount Moriah afar off. He left the young men behind and went on alone with Isaac beside him up to the mountain. But Abraham said to himself, “I will not conceal from Isaac whither the course leads him.” He stood still, he laid his hand upon the head of Isaac in benediction, and Isaac bowed to receive the blessing. And Abraham’s face was fatherliness, his look was mild, his speech encouraging. But Isaac was unable to understand him, his soul could not be exalted; he embraced Abraham’s knees, he fell at his feet imploringly, he begged for his young life, for the fair hope of his future, he called to mind the joy in Abraham’s house, he called to mind the sorrow and loneliness. Then Abraham lifted up the boy, he walked with him by his side, and his talk was full of comfort and exhortation. But Isaac could not understand him. He climbed Mount Moriah, but Isaac understood him not. Then for an instant he turned away from him, and when Isaac again saw Abraham’s face it was changed, his glance was wild, his form was horror. He seized Isaac by the throat, threw him to the ground, and said, “Stupid you, dost thou then suppose that I am thy father? I am an idolater. Dost thou suppose that this is God’s bidding? No, it is my desire.” Then Isaac trembled and cried out in his terror, “O God in heaven, have compassion upon me. God of Abraham, have compassion upon me. If I have no father upon earth, be Thou my father!” But Abraham in a low voice said to himself, “O Lord in heaven, I thank Thee. After all it is better for him to believe that I am a monster, rather than that he should lose faith in Thee.” 

When the child must be weaned, the mother blackens her breast, it would indeed be a shame that the breast should look delicious when the child must not have it. So the child believes that the breast has changed, but the mother is the same, her glance is as loving and tender as ever. Happy is the person who had no need of more dreadful expedients for weaning the child!

~   Frederick Buechner
Canvas  by  andbamnan