When I was fresh out of seminary trying to learn how to be a pastor in my first (and ultimately last) church appointment, there was a retired preacher who invited me out to lunch so we could get to know each other.
During our conversation, I expressed a whole lot of doubt about what I was expected to believe (and also teach) when it came to doctrine. I was very drawn to Jesus and the big questions that religion asks us to wrestle with. I had also come to believe that humans were better off if they were part of a community, a function churches had served for centuries. But I couldn’t say with real integrity that I believed the church was all that holy, that the Christian bible is the word of God, that Jesus was the only way to salvation, or even that we needed salvation!
The old pastor listened patiently to me as I laid bare my struggle, and then he told me something that still sticks with me. He said, “The older I grow, the more comfortable I get with mystery.” He assured me that being a person of faith (even a faith leader) didn’t mean I had to have it all figured out. I didn’t always have to agree with the church. I wasn’t required to provide all the answers to my congregation. Nor did I have to convince them that my own views (or the church’s) were correct.
All I had to do was be present, open, generous, and try to stay in love with this world God placed me in.
Nearly 20 years after that conversation I’ve got my own gray hair now and perhaps a little wisdom to go along with it. In that time, I have also grown more comfortable with mystery. I have also learned how to more deeply and truly stay in love with this world.
It’s not always easy! These past several years, in some ways it’s been harder than during any other time in my life. But like in my marriage, I’ve learned that the way to deepen love is by continuing to be present, open, and generous.
In practice for me, that usually means slowing down and trying to pay attention. I go on walks outside with my camera and/or my dog. I stop to take pictures; he stops to sniff. We both relax and appreciate the messy, often mysterious beauty of the natural world.
Likewise, if I want to stay in love with the people of this world, I find I have to go beyond the way they are presented (or present themselves) on a surface level. Media and social media give us a terribly negative and warped view of our human family. But in those situations when I can slow down, ask deeper questions, and listen to an individual person’s story, I almost always find something to love about them, even when I strongly disagree with them on serious, important issues. Especially in those times when I might have to fight against them for what I believe in, I’d rather fight with people I love. I can come back from that kind of fight more easily than one with a stranger.
This outlook/practice of slowing down and being present doesn’t get rid of the messiness. It doesn’t answer all my questions nor provide the security and certainty we often crave as human animals. It doesn’t change the world or make other people better.
What it does is help me live with less anxiety. It helps me feel more grounded, connected, and full, rather than the unmoored, isolated emptiness that sometimes creeps in when life’s demands push us to a more frantic surface-level pace.
I’ve decided I want more mystery in my life. I want more love. That is my religion.
—Courtney Ball
