From the moment life enters the world, we know death will come. This is the reality of life. But what if we die more than just at our final breath. What if life, when lived to the fullest, is really about dying.
What if I die to my theological superiority: my strictly western, white, male theology. If I die to conversion being the goal of my relationships. If I die to seeking truth only in things labeled "Christian".
What if I die to beliefs that have been--both knowingly and unknowingly--passed down, through generations, since the "founders" of this U.S. What if I stop seeing people and land as things to be explored and conquered. If I die to my beliefs of what it means to be an American. If I die to forcing my voice and thoughts to be heard above others.
What if I die to society's rules for how and what I, a woman, do with my body. If I die to both extremes: my body as a "stumbling block" or my body as my one weapon over men. If I quit using food to self-discipline my actions. If I stop using "like a girl" as an insult.
What if? And what if I do this knowing that death is not the end. It doesn't have the final word because I know that life begins out of death. Nature teaches us this through life cycles and even our dinner plate shows: the death of one thing brings room for the life of another.
From my death would arise the beginning of understanding God, others, and the world in a wider way. I'd sit, as uncomfortable as it might be, with the truth: I don't know all. My conversations with "others" would come from a desire to grow and know, not to convert. My need to defend my beliefs would lower and my ability to walk with others would increase.
From my death to privilege would start a deeper understanding of systems and the humans within the systems. My death to the American identity would begin an inclusion as my first nature. An understanding of self outside of nationality. I would ponder the thought that perhaps my fixing of things isn't working. Maybe "it" wasn't even broken to begin with.
From my death would begin actual self care. I'd begin to feed my body all the nutrients it needs...plus some extras because it's delicious and I don't need to shame myself. When I look at the mirror I'd ask myself "How do I feel wearing this?" Not "How will he/she feel when they see me?" I would step up to leadership, even in the presence of men.
From death comes life. But if I have any understanding of myself and humanity, it is that we fall short even with our best intentions at mind. This being so, I am convinced that this death must be a continual dying process. Not one that is just on MLK Jr Day or Thanksgiving weekend. I too quickly return to old habits and clench my hands around beliefs again.
So again, I must choose to die. It is in this death that I can learn life. If we're not dying, where is our life coming from?
For this is the reality of life: from the moment death enters the world, we know life, too, will come.
May we find courage for death and hope in life.
Deep. As deep cries out to deep. As I read I was struck with the thought that deep cries out to deep. To go deeper with people who aren't Christians. To learn from people who aren't Christians. To "die to seeking truth only in things labeled "Christian". Wow! Something so normal for so many people out there who are forced to live in a society where that is the norm, but we are the ones if I dear say are lucky enough to choice to do these things. The thought of dying to ourselves and to our privilege seems so necessary to really live. You present some very real challenges of how we can change, yet fall back into habits. How can this transformation be the real deal. How does it impact our Christianity, our values and beliefs? How does this effect us as women, in a male dominated society? As leaders? As global citizens? The answers to this I don't know, but I do know I am not alone in trying to them. Thank you for this powerful insight into death as life.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your beautiful poetic words! Your post gave me a sense a serenity while reading your thoughts about life and death. I often think about the things I need to put to rest in my life; the things that chain me to the earth are keeping me from fully entering into a relationship with my Father. I wonder about what parts of Jesus' life that needed to put to death in order for him to be the son of God. You mention putting to death our societal roles as women, and I wonder what obstacles Jesus had to endure in his society besides the things written in Scripture.
ReplyDeleteIt is a scary task to let go of the things that are comfortable,, and when we ask the Holy Spirit to lead us, there is no such thing as comfortable. It is amazing that God has given us the gift of life and death.
@Lana, yes we are not in this work alone. May we find encouragement in that.
ReplyDelete@Ashely, that is an interesting question: what parts of Jesus' life did he need to put to death? We know He had privilege as a man in the society, so what did it look like for him to die to his privilege as a male? Good thoughts.