I sat in Chelle’s office, dancing around what I really wanted to ask for a good 6 minutes. Finally, she looked at me in such a way that I knew I just needed to know.
“I need to know why Trinitarian theology matters.”
(Keep in mind that I’m asking this question to a woman who wrote her doctoral thesis over the trinity – the Christian belief of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit being one in the same and yet uniquely different (consider that a crude definition)).
“I need to know why it matters so that I have a reason to care about studying it. Because I think I may not care. I think it may just be us constantly bumping up against our barrier of language and I’m frustrated and irritated and I’m over it. And if I don’t care about Trinitarian theology, I feel like I don’t care about know if the Trinity is real or not. And if I don’t care if the Trinity is real then I wonder if I believe in God at all. And if I don’t believe in God then I wonder if I’m saved – or if salvation even matters – and sin is just all this shit we do anyways, so… please, tell me why it matters…”
Chelle looks at me with tenderness and care, and she says, “I can’t tell you why it matters.”
I’ve always been really good at regurgitation; learning information, taking it on as fact, teaching others the same information, living my life based on this information I learned.
It’s all up in the air now. This journey is about figuring out what I believe based on what others believe. No one is telling me what is truth. No one is telling me what is real. I get to/have to/need to figure that out for myself. So, as of now, here’s what I know…
Sometimes I wonder if even that is real, but then I find myself praying to Her/Him, so I know there is some part deep within me that knows God is real.
That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.
I’ve realized that the depth of my regurgitation extends so far back into my story that I cannot name the beginning. Maybe it begins with the child’s curiosity being quelled by the adult who doesn’t want to think about, “Why?” fourteen times over the course of ten minutes.
There are some untruths I have to unravel and it’s making me feel extremely disconnected at this point because I’ve always defined myself through the lens of my theology, and right now my theology has no structure. There is a foundation, but no structure. The structure that I had in place was a very dualistic way of thinking – right and wrong, black and white, this or that, can’t have both, only one winner, only one way…
I fucking hate that way of thinking.
But what other lens can I view myself and my world? How else can I define who I am? My therapist wondered how different life would be if instead of viewing my world through the lens of theology, I viewed my life and my world (including my theology) through the lens of sexuality.
Define my theology through view of my sexuality? I really wish someone would have already written a book on what that’s about because I have no idea what that means let alone how to do that.
*Note to self* define what ‘sexuality’ means, because I’m pretty sure it’s more than hetero/homo and the actual act of sex… but I don’t know because it was never discussed with me, just assumed that it was known or understood…
It sounds like it would be freeing, so freeing.
Free to love myself; love a God who created me – all of me, every part of me – love other people as they are now without trying to change them…
That’s the shit revolutions are built on.
I feel like I’m at the precipice of something huge, a cavern, a Grand Canyon of my life. This is one of those times that I’ll look back on in 5, 10, 20 years as a huge defining moment. I hope I don’t leap too soon… but I also hope that I have the courage to leap at some point.