Hope in Exile

“Hello, my name is John and I am a (theological) jerk. I haven’t loved God or my neighbor with my words.”

In my first post of this series I talked about Alcoholics Anonymous and their steps towards dealing with an addiction. In that post I gave a moral inventory of myself, and confessed that I have a problem with being a jerk with my words. Just the other day I got into a slight debate about contraception, and can admit that at one point I was a little dismissive of the other person in my words. I stand by the conversation as something that needed to be said, but I could have done it in way that was less firm. It just goes to show you: I don’t want to be a theological jerk but I am.

My second post in this series again utilized A.A. to talk about recovering (but never curing) an addiction. We’re never really done with our addictions, even when we’re ready to talk about them with others, and maybe try and help them with theirs… in fact, that is part of the process of healing. In that post I also made sure to frame everyting in a positive motivation. I don’t just want to stop being a jerk, I also want to love my God and my neighbor with how I use my mouth. I’ve gotten into trouble in the past by opening it, and more and more I want to get “into love” when I speak.

Why not just stop?

Now, you might be saying, “Why try and change, why not just stop putting your opinion on things out there? Is your thought really that great that people should have to hear it?”

You’re right. Part of me being less of a jerk may mean shutting my mouth at times, even if I don’t really want to. It might mean that instead of giving my opinion I point people to resources, or ask questions or… there is more than one way to have a conversation (about theology). Life doesn’t always have to be a debate.

Seeing theology as debate

If theology is just a debate for me, if it is just a presentation of my ideas about God where I expect to be critiqued and to have to defend them from other ideas, then something is wrong with me.

Maybe dualism is a buzzword today, but seeing theology as a debate is dualistic. It chooses to picture theology as a matter of right vs. wrong, good vs. bad, well thought out vs. folky, etc. Theology as a debate creates an us vs. them situation, instead of what it really is… us, together as children of God, thinking about the mystery of the revelation of God. Revelation isn’t something we have, that we have to shove in everyone’s face, it’s something that comes to us, knocks us off our feet, and that we have to talk about together to “figure out what happened.”

Seeing theology as debate also removes the idea of growth, and ultimately, any mystery to theological reality. If theology is only ever a debate for me, then it must be something that I think I can know completely and that only is black and white. It must be something I think I have, and know in a way that is pretty clear. It’s a static object I possess.

But if theology is something I can constantly grow in, and something that I may not necessarily have a thought about because it is too astounding for me to get, then there are any numbers of ways to engage it other than as a debate. Let’s not look at the burning bush and think we can handle it.

Muteness =/= love of God or neighbor

Now, don’t get me wrong. There are certain things we can say about God. Whatever we’ve seen in Jesus, we know of God. When we proclaim the goodness of Christ, we are, through the Spirit, loving God. If I were to go completely mute (some people would love that), suddenly an enormous way of loving God would be removed from my life. (Oh may they burn my bones up at that point!)

My ability to love would also be diminished in relationship to my neighbor. There are times when, in order to love my neighbor, I absolutely need to speak out: I love my neighbor when I proclaim the goodness of God to them. I love my neighbor when I confess my own shortcomings to them. I love my neighbor when I ask for forgiveness. And I love my neighbor when I correct them, in truth and grace (without one or the other… not love!)

So yeah, I could stop talking and be less of a jerk… but I won’t completely, because my capacity for love would be diminished and that would be an even bigger jerk move.

Muteness =/= a changed heart 

Let’s keep exploring this idea of muteness for a second. Say I were to stop talking about theology entirely, would I still be a jerk? My actions would have changed, but what of my heart? My heart! Oh that wretch thing! It would still be screaming at people when they make even the slightest error. Oh, my heart! That’s where the problem is.

At the core, being a theological jerk is a heart issue…

How do you change a heart?
How do you change your emotions?
How do you change your thought patterns?
How do you change your motivation?

 Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity
and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is always before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight;
so you are right in your verdict
and justified when you judge.
Surely I was sinful at birth,
sinful from the time my mother conceived me.
Yet you desired faithfulness even in the womb;
you taught me wisdom in that secret place.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins
and blot out all my iniquity.

Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence
or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
so that sinners will turn back to you.
Deliver me from the guilt of bloodshed, O God,
you who are God my Savior,
and my tongue will sing of your righteousness.
Open my lips, Lord,
and my mouth will declare your praise.
You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart
you, God, will not despise.

May it please you to prosper Zion,
to build up the walls of Jerusalem.
Then you will delight in the sacrifices of the righteous,
in burnt offerings offered whole;
then bulls will be offered on your altar.
-Psalm 51

[[For part 4 of the series, click here.]]

I’ve never been to an A.A. meeting.

But my mom did go to AlAnon (a support group for friends and family of alcoholics) for a season, and the parents of my highschool girlfried were A.A. leaders.

I like a lot of the ideas behind A.A. because they don’t just seem to work for alcoholism, but for all kinds of addictions.

• I like that A.A. emphasizes the community as a means and conviction for sobriety. This addiction isn’t just about me, but us.
• I like that A.A. encourages “one day at a time” thinking. I’m can’t stop myself from this addiction in the future, but I can focus on today.
• I like that A.A. recognizes accomplishments and stages of recovery. Beating an addiction isn’t a once-for-all-time event. It’s a slow progression.
• I like that A.A. admits that addictions never really go away. I may have recovered from this, but I’m certainly not cured of this. It’s gonna be a struggle for the rest of my life.
• I like the twelve steps of A.A. They are, in a way, a boiled down version of repentance. No, they aren’t perfect (afterall repentance without Jesus means nothing), but there is something inspired about them. If you’ve never read them before go do it
• But most of all, I like that A.A. recognizes the limits of humanity. Step #1 in A.A. is the recognition, or confession, that we are powerless on our own.

My Moral Inventory

Part of the steps A.A. members take towards recovery is making a “moral inventory” of themselves. I have been convicted, as of late, that I am a jerk when it cmes to discussing theology (and politics, gender, and a couple other subjects important to me, but this is a blog about theology, so we’ll start there).

Jerk: “an annoyingly stupid or foolish person, an unlikable person; especially: one who is cruel, rude, or small-minded If you’ve ever watched me have a theological discussion on the internet, at a pub, at home, or elsewhere, you know that label fits.

It fits because I’ve made theology into something it isn’t supposed to be. Where there should have been love, I put passive-aggressive remarks. I put me being right, before us as the Church being one. I turned “dialogue” into “diatribe”. I dragged theology through the mud by making it an exercise in irritation when we talk about.

The examples of me doing so are pretty endless: There’s the multiple power debates I’ve had at home, with one family member in particular, that has lead to raised voices, stomping feet, a slammed door, and anxious family pets wondering what was happening.

There’s all the times I have let theology talk take over, and kill, a conversation.

There’s the times I have gotten so drawn into a theological debate, that I have excluded people that, frankly, don’t give a damn about the subject.

There’s the untold amount of people that ignore me now, whether on Facebook or Twitter or in real life, because I am one of “those guys”. And by those guys, I mean a jerk… a debater… a contrarian… an intelligenista… too serious… too eager to debate…

The Debates: Theological Minutia and Hurtful Words

I’ve debated about a lot of things in my life, especially theological things. And in all honesty, the arguments I have had weren’t about “big things”.  Most of these debates weren’t matters of the Gospel, or how we view God, or ourselves. No, they were things like “is video-screen preaching okay?” or is a “reader-response hermeutic heretical”. I’m actually having a hard time thinking of more examples. I know I have had hurtful conversations about theology, but I can’t even remember what I was advocating for in them. I swear they were important at the time!

My problem isn’t just that I was arguing about the small things though. You aren’t a jerk because you talk talk about small things, you’re a jerk because of how you talk about things. When I debated, I would do so with sarcasm, passive-aggressive tones, and assuming the worst about people’s intention. I would speak assuming people’s motivations (which of course were no good). I wouldn’t talk about the central message, but on the medium they were using, or an entirely too small point they had made.

I said things without restraint, without care, without gentleness or kindness, with cynical presuppositions, with self-righteousness, and with selfishness.  I had me at the middle of every heological conversation, instead of the actual truth, and even worse, instead of concern for God or neighbor.

I took Frank Viola seriously and tried to perfect “the art of being a jerk online”.

So with that out there…

A Confession 

“Hello, my name is John and I am a theological jerk. Woe to me, I am a man of unclean lips. Give me grace!”

A Prayer

God, I don’t want to be that person anymore. Keep me from being a jerk!

I want to change, help me to do so. I am not going to be able to change on my own, but only as you change my heart and what it longs after. May I love you more than I love being right or sarcastic or looking smart.

I need the community of God to take account of me, and keep me on track. Bring people into my life that will look to keep me from myself and point me towards you.

In this age I won’t ever be cured, but keep with me as I change. Help me to focus on being a gentle person this day, may I continue to feel the need in the future to repent of this, but at the same time have less reasons to.

Everyday, change my heart to be more civil, kind, loving, in the Truth that you are.

Amen.

An Invitation

The point of this blog isn’t just to let you into a personal confession. I am not a voyeur. I am a volunteer. I am volunteering this blog as a place for theological jerks to come to, and together with each other and God, get better. I need you, and you probably need me. We need each other, engulfed by the love of Triune God, to recover. Would you please think about how being a jerk, whether over theology or not, has hurt your life and the people you’re around? Would you help me be less of a jerk by keeping me accountable and encouraging me when I discuss well? Would you join Gabe and I in exile, as we hope upon God for new life? If so, I’d invite you to talk to me in person, email me (youtharerevolting at gmail.com), or leave a comment down below about the above?

Grace and peace,
John Lussier

*The original title of this series was a slightly harsher word, that up until the early 90s you couldn’t say on tv, but my blogging partner felt it would cut out a certain section of our readership, so we decided to change it. See, I’m already starting to watch my words.

[[For part 2 of the series, click here.]]