How the words fall in.

Last updated on: April 26, 2010 at 3:35 pm by michaboyett

How the words fall in. 2010-04-26T15:35:27-07:00 michaboyett

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

A disciple asks the Rabbi, “Why does the Torah tell us to ‘place these words upon your hearts’? Why does it not tell us to place these holy words in our hearts?” The Rabbi answers, ‘It is because as we are, our hearts are closed, and we cannot place the holy words in our hearts. So we place them on top of our hearts. And there they stay until one day the heart breaks and words fall in.”

*(*from The Politics of the Brokenhearted, by Parker Palmer)

Let me start by saying I haven’t read Parker Palmer. I know nothing about the essay/pamphlet from which this is quoted. I only know that this was printed in a handout I received at church yesterday. And I can’t stop thinking about it.

Since I wrote last Friday, I’ve been in transition, coming back from visiting my family in Texas, enjoying the California sunshine with my little clan, and reacquainting my toddler with the unhappy reality of the Pacific time zone. (Wondering why it’s taken me all day to get this post up? The sweet boy was grouchy and awake during this morning’s 6 am writing time.)

I also can’t stop thinking about what I wrote on Friday: my struggle to believe God is speaking to me in love. How it’s difficult to acknowledge what my friend shared with me: that God is growing me into a sturdy tree, that I can maneuver my roots into this city and that those roots can follow me, resulting in something beautiful.

As I was praying in church yesterday, 12 hours home from our trip, I realized I do believe God would speak to me in kindness. Of course I do. God’s words to me have always been spoken in kindness. It’s my brain that distorts God, that feeds me guilt and grows debilitating fear inside me. My belief is a whole lot more complicated than an easy explanation. Belief comes to me, but softly and without fanfare. Sometimes it takes a few days to soak in. Sometimes it’s easier to diminish the faith I have than to acknowledge its complexity.

I just finished rereading my brother, Jason Boyett’s new book, O Me of Little Faith (I was honored to read it for the first time in its draft form). It was just released a week and a half ago and it’s a beautifully written contemplation of his (and I believe, the contemporary evangelical’s) struggle to believe in a God he can’t live without. (I’d review it but I’m biased so I’ll leave it at that.)

While writing last Friday’s post, I was shoulder deep in his book and I had his doubt on my mind. Jason and I have shared doubt in common since I was adult enough to realize it was in me. That would be around my freshman year of college, when my older brother was 23 and already married. It’s been a common thread for us, something I could share honestly with him long before I could speak it to anyone else.

Doubt has been debilitating for me in some sense, but not completely. I didn’t go into full time ministry in order to hide my doubt, but in spite of it. I love Jesus not simply because I love the idea of him, but because I’ve experienced him. I don’t read the Bible because I’m trying to convince myself, but because my soul finds life in it, despite my brain’s refusal to cooperate from time to time.

So when I read the above quote as I sat down to worship yesterday, my insides resonated. I understand that when I open scripture, my brain and my soul take different stances. They shout at each other. And then, at some point, one wins over the other. The words sit on my hard heart. And, eventually, something beautiful happens: my heart melts just enough for the words to soak through.

So, everything I said on Friday? You can chalk it up to this process I’m in. Someday, I’m hoping I’ll believe the moment the words land on my heart. But for today, I’m letting them sit quietly. And quiet is very monastic.

Uncategorized

doubt

spiritual practice

Previous Post

April 22, 2010

Tree Roots

Next Post

April 27, 2010 Thankful Tuesday Q's

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category A Deeper Church Beautiful Beautiful and Broken Books Broken Deeper Story Family and the Christian Year Family Life Found Friends Guest Post Invitation Motherhood My Chalkboard One Good Phrase Pinterest Place and Stability Poetry Practicing Benedict Thankful Tuesday The Daily The Mama Monk the Praying Life The Pursuit of Enough This Sacred Everyday Uncategorized Vlog Women and the Church World Vision

Select a Month March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Who wrote the most books in the New Testament?

Select your answer to see how you score.

John Paul Peter Luke