Under construction

The road leading to Barrowfield. Photograph by Ralie du Preez

At one stage, while renovating our bathroom, we had no bath, basin or shower. After a day’s work we took our toiletries, went over to Johan and Debbie, our neighbours, and cleaned up. One evening I washed myself in a bucket under the stars. For outsiders it might have looked as if everything was in a shambles with little hope of a decent result or at least a returning order. All we needed was a sign reading, “Under Construction”. 

Spiritually I have use for such a sign as well. I am under construction.

For years now, I haven’t found nourishment in business as usual where religion was concerned. All the traditional pillars that held that roof in place became stumbling blocks for me instead. I experienced it as being:

- sentimental,

- fear-based, 

- rooted in a sense of merit despite the lip service given to terms like grace and the love of God, 

- separated from daily living, 

- stale, 

- dualistic and in the process hampering integration on a personal and cosmic level, 

- feverishly project-driven, 

- lacking in an eco-consciousness and in many respects shunning creation, 

- exclusive, 

- projections of our own prejudice and the dominant cultural stance, 

- supportive of and often even promoting large egos,
- the over-professionalisation of something that belongs to the people and is as natural as breathing and then developing it into a thriving business,

- very self-centred, focusing primarily on my private salvation project and in the end contributing to a Christianity that is little more than an evacuation plan to heaven (to use Brian McLaren’s image). 

The organized religion that I grew up with, studied at faculty and to my shame even contributed to while being a minister, went through changes or periods of renewal of course, but somehow it always felt like the mere rearrangement of the deck chairs on the Titanic. Deep down, at root level it remained the same or even became worse and more rigid and legalistic. It worked with and created an image of God that I neither liked nor could relate to. I wanted to follow Jesus without embarrassing God in the process (apologies Tony Campolo).

In the end I resigned as minister and left the church. After years of study, ministry and structure, I entered a life of great uncertainty, a total change occupation-wise, and stripped from an identity I had and even built up myself. I became a manual labourer working in my father’s engineering workshop and gradually establishing a woodworking workshop. I started writing. I went for spiritual direction, took care of my elderly parents, became a spiritual director myself, relocated, got married, read constantly and in the process discovered the most wonderful companions on the journey. 

Increasingly I found myself part of an ever-growing worldwide community that shares my exact disillusions, disappointments and frustrations but who is also embarking on an exciting, different course. I am not mentioning this to validate or support my actions. But being convinced that I am part of an encompassing community of believers, there were times when I doubted myself and even thought that I was going mad. It is of great comfort and support to discover this growing mass of similar voices around me.

It is strange, but amid all the changes and tumults, I never felt removed from God. Even while being deeply disappointed with the so-called God structures, I never doubted Her. Despite my other doubts at times, my overall experience was that of being led into the desert to get to know Her as if for the first time. And most of all, I never doubted me being a Christian.

I find that it is indeed a matter of growth by subtraction. I have to unlearn much more than I have to learn anything new. Everything, but everything where my faith is concerned, I have to discover anew. After years of putting myself on a Bible detox-program and not reading it at all being disillusioned with  my own overly rational approach and tired of all the literal interpretations, fundamentalism and verse quoting under the name of piousness, something new is unfolding. Jesus has to introduce Himself again to me; St Paul (I never liked him much) is very slowly becoming a wise guide; the body of Christ and the Kingdom of God are expanding to encompass much, much more than my congregation in my denomination.

To a large degree and justly or unjustly, being religious in South Africa became associated with the characteristics of the conservative Bible Belt believers of the United States. Should a person therefore call himself a Christian, images of Bible quoting and a Jesus-is-my-Saviour-and-the-only-Way religion almost automatically come to mind. On the social radar screen that is the dominant big dot that will show when you are looking for “Christian”. Those who do not agree and are uncomfortable with that distance themselves from the Bible and by implication – according to general assumption – from God.

But what if being a Christian does not necessarily imply those “Christian” characteristics? What if there are Christians, committed to their faith and their love of God who are seeing things differently? The wise Marcus J. Borg distinguishes five Christian categories in one of his last books, Convictions: How I learned what matters most, before his death earlier this year, He says:

Naming today’s divisions involves using labels. I recognize that labels risk becoming stereotypes and caricatures; indeed, the difference between “label” and “libel” is a single letter. Yet they can be useful and even necessary shorthand for naming differences.
Aware of this danger, I suggest five categories for naming the divisions in American Christianity today: conservative, conventional, uncertain, former, and progressive Christians. In somewhat different forms, these kinds of Christians are found among both Protestants and Catholics. And there are good people in all of the categories; none of them has a monopoly on goodness.
The categories are not watertight compartments. It is possible to be a conservative conventional Christian, a conventional uncertain Christian, a conventional former Christian, and so forth. But two categories strike me as antithetical and incompatible. The great divide is between conservative and progressive Christianity, which form opposite ends of the spectrum of American Christianity today.

I do realise that it is categories applied in an American context, but we follow the American model in so many respects in South Africa that it also helpful in the conversation about our situation.

Where our bathroom is concerned, it fortunately ended up with a new set of amenities after the period of construction.

What will I end up with after my period of construction or re-construction? I am certain there will be people calling themselves Christians who will be disappointed that I won’t end up with an extra toilet to flush down the garbage I’m bringing forth. It is sad, but they have a right to their opinion. If we as Christians can learn to tolerate different points of view and listen to each other, it will be a huge step in the right direction. We are not known to do that. The usual quick deterioration of Christian conversation groups into mudslinging and hostility on the internet is a case in point. If I can contribute in some small way towards tolerance, I’ll be glad.

Instead of constantly talking about faith and erecting structures, projects and programs to accommodate and facilitate that, I want to live a grounded life, in every aspect and manner of daily living with my faith infusing it all. I won’t see it as a disaster if a day passes without quoting Scripture or praying in the traditional sense of the word, because everything is held by the credo God in all things. Our life here at Barrowfield has its very roots in that. We believe that is also what we are writing about on our blog.

I want to grow deeper into silence, a tolerance for ambiguity and paradox. I want to become more integrated on all levels of my being without an over-reliance on my intellect, a pre-occupation with my feelings and with a deep and healthy appreciation and love for my body. It also implies getting to know my shadow or dark side, integrating that and learning and growing through that.

I pray that I will have some of the characteristics that I so long for but not always find in my contact with Christians –tolerance, patience, kindness, humility, love, grace, forgiveness. I hope that it will be the guidelines in my conversations around these issues.

But I am also driven by a passion to rediscover the core, to move out of this rut that we as Christians find ourselves in and to live expansively without fear. I want to discover and live the more at the heart of Christianity. 

I want to be of some help to all the good people out there who are at heart still believers in God but who do not know how to live their faith without slipping into old paradigms and falling into current pitfalls. When the word “Christian” is mentioned, I want there to appear other dots on the social radar screen as well, apart from that large dominant one.

What will the end be? Maybe that is exactly the point: there will be no end. We are after all people of the Way (Acts 9:2).

George