catching my breath

  

 

September 17, 2018


My sermon that I gave yesterday at Edgewood challenged me to think through my own dark journey of faith. I do believe in The Voice. God is invisible, but no inaudible. There is within all of us a Voice that we hear. The summons to be ourselves; to give ourselves to others; to live with integrity.

 

I gave a talk on my book (The Bible Explained by Eight Kisses) last Wednesday night. Having finished that book and preached at Edgewood, I feel like I can breathe again.

 

At this moment I feel no need to work on a book. A sense of freedom. I live in a liminal space. I believe; I don’t believe; it’s unclear; yet, I can’t know for sure; yet, I go on living. I can never go back to where I was. Incarnation is gone. Resurrection now seems probably not objective; but maybe. If the objective is correct, then why the absence now? I’m suspicious.

 

There was ‘something.’ It is reported as objective. As corporeal. But the gap between those reports and my lived existence is hard to overcome. It’s a tradition which passes on certain values—which keep unfolding and changes as our consciousness is expanded. The Book continues to be a touchstone for a framework from which to work.

 

I felt the discussion of the sermon yesterday was low energy. I didn’t really touch the people. Too intellectual; too rationalistic. I’m too much in my head. But I feel like I’m pausing and catching my breath, with nothing pushing me right now.

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