I was walking in the park today with a dear friend. I love walks in the park, especially in the fall-- when the air is crisp and the colors speak of warmth, welcoming you into the glory all around.
It seems to foster such great conversations. I bless G-d for the gift of the fall season. It is a visual reminder that, sometimes, things have to die for new life to come.
Over my life, I have come to see-- and even experience-- that most Christians live their life in a pendulum (see image below).
At some point in our life, we have an experience with the Divine, and we come to have faith in a G-d. Fervently, we begin to chase after this G-d, because we heard her call to us. We begin to say yes to everything. We jump head first into serving in any way that we can. We begin to take all of our talents and gifts and prescribe ways to ourselves to use those for his glory. We're anxious and willing to give our all to this G-d who gave his all and reached down to us.
Eventually-- sometimes having spent years running ourselves ragged, attempting to do all the right things, say all the right things, be all the right things-- we discover that all those things that we had poured so hard into didn't fill the void. They didn't make us feel any better. They didn't change our life in any remarkable way, and we are left, once again, wondering how could this G-d of the universe really love us if we can't even get serving him right.
And so maybe we seek counsel in a friend or in a pastor, and they communicate to us that all we need to do is be still. Since we tried everything else, we decide to drop everything and begin to do nothing, because then maybe G-d will make things happen. She'll do all the work, and we can just be still. And the guilt of spending years chasing after G-d and "failing" weighs down even more. Stillness becomes self-loathing, and we are left with nothing to believe other than it's hopeless, because even in our stillness we can't get anything right.
Now, you're probably thinking that this is an easy fix. These people just need to find a balance between being and doing. If the pendulum would just swing to the middle, instead of being on the extreme of either side: doing everything to please this G-d or just being still to please him-- this person would be okay, and they would have found the sweet spot of Christianity. Balance would have come.
This isn't true. The pendulum that we spend our time living on needs to be torn down. It is not that we are swinging in an unhealthy pattern; it is that the frictionless pivot of the pendulum itself is false.
You see, this pendelum's pivot is that I must find a way to make G-d love me. I either have to repay him-- by giving him all that I am, by saying yes to everything-- and he will be happy with me. He will say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant." Or on the stillness side, I talk myself into my complete unworthiness, because I am remaining still, and yet G-d isn't doing anything. Nothing within me is getting better. I don't feel his love any more than I did before.
The pendulum is faulty. Its frictionless pivot actually creates a life of friction. A life with Christ is not about pleasing the Master. It is not about being sure to have all things right so that he will love me. We must tear this pendulum down. We must not waste our time trying to find a balance, because there is no balance on it.
Instead, we are called to the Shema.
Hear o Israel
The Lord our G-d
the Lord is one
Love the Lord your G-d
with all your heart
and with all your soul
and with all your strength
and love your neighbor as yourself
We are called to believe and to trust and to know that the G-d of the universe loves us more than we could ever imagine or measure. There is nothing we can do to earn that. Likewise, there is nothing we can do that will make him take it away.
If there be a pendulum that we should rest in, the frictionless pivot is this-- the unconditional love that G-d has for us. From that place, we hang. From the very knowledge that the love of G-d is pouring into us, we are able to live in the swing of the Shema. Not seeking to please G-d, but to just love him with all that we are, and to commit to loving our neighbors as we love ourselves, wholly and completely.
Which pivot are you swinging on?
