Excessive Certitude

I am attending a seminar at my church, The Episcopal Church of Sts. Andrew and Matthew located in Wilmington, Delaware. The title is Saving Jesus.

You probably can drum up any number of responses to that phrase.

Who says Jesus needs saving?

Isn't it the other way around?

From who? From what?

I will be turning 58 this year. Whew.

I have discovered later in life that I wished that I had taken religious history courses when I was younger. I am loving the experience of expanding my mind, heart, and soul.

Over the next few weeks, I am sure that this experience will have an effect on what I write. Maybe this is the stimulus for which I have been waiting.

Excessive Certitude.

For me that translates in the need to know the outcome, now, always.

To be certain in my beliefs and being.

This is the way.

This is the truth.

This is......

Since my journey to and in Sudan, I am practicing on not having ownership of the outcome. To let the process evolve on its own. Or actually with God and the universe in charge.

I am learning how to live robustly and confidently in uncertainty. This was said by Bernard Brandon Scott a member of the Jesus Society and the author of Hear Then the Parable, one of the most important books on parables for this generation. He is a Darbeth Distinguished Professor of New Testament at the Phillips Theological Seminary, University of Tulsa, Oklahoma.

From listening to Mr. Scott, I am learning to appreciate the first 300 years of Christianity, pre-Constantine, where the followers of Jesus emulated his life and works. They were doing, and not believing.

Darn Constantine. He gave us those dang creeds, unified his empire, told us what to believe, which led to the later church to tell us how and when to worship.

In doing so Christianity became what to believe not a way of life.

Get into heaven?

Attend the 10:30 AM Sunday service followed by Adult Education with coffee.

Right.

Where are we during the week?

Sitting with the homeless, cooking meals, teaching the illiterate, babysitting so mothers or fathers can work?

Jesus said take up your cross and follow me.

Crosses can be heavy and cumbersome. A nuisance.

I used to get stuck on the "follow me" part.

The cross I pick up.

But, take it where?

To follow?

Not lead?