Last weekend, we drove south through miles and miles and miles of dry desert to Tucson, a region known for towering saguaro cacti that can live up to 200 years. We parked our car and wandered through the desert jungle, skirting thorns with every turn, necks craned towards the majestically stunning plant life. I’d visited Saguaro National Park before but wanted my husband to have the same experience I’d had of driving through naked desert and suddenly encountering craggy mountain sides covered with giant cactus creatures. It’s an amazing sight to behold, especially at sunset.
I find the desert incredibly spiritual. To survive its harsh conditions requires a certain level of intuition, knowledge, and gumption. There are many parallels between this life of faith (with all its ups and downs, beliefs and disbeliefs, joys and griefs) and the desert, the wilderness. Even in the nearly uninhabitable conditions of an arid desert, there is beauty, life, survival. The desert is a reminder that God rarely meets us in certainty but in our wandering and wrestling.
God Wrestlers
On our very long drive, my husband and I listened to this podcast (one I fear will become a constant theme throughout my next few essays). According to their website, The BEMA Podcast is “a walkthrough of the context of the Bible and the text itself, as well as surrounding history. We deconstruct our common readings of the Bible and attempt to reconstruct them through the lens of historical context.” Throughout the few episodes we’ve listened to, we’ve slowly realized the significance of culture and identity in our faith and religious traditions. We westerners look at information as data to obtain, filling our minds with correct answers and “proper” doctrine or theological frameworks. But easterners are far more imaginative in their approach to the divine. They look at the text and see patterns; they read the ancient words and find stories that lead into deeper questions. They openly wrestle. They brazenly ask: “what are the problems we see in the text?,” unafraid to point out conflicting passages or name inconsistencies. Wrestling is a vital part of their faith.
There’s a famous Biblical story of Jacob wrestling with a man (who we later learn is God). It’s a short, bizarre story. Up until this point, Jacob didn’t have the best reputation. He was conniving; his name was associated with deception. He took on a particular identity given to him at birth and ran with it, causing division between himself and his brother. But in a location un-ironically named “Face of God” (Peniel), he wrestles through the night with a mysterious figure, refusing to let go until he receives a blessing. Marty Solomon of The BEMA Podcast said there’s another way to look at this story many westerners have (probably) never considered. The stories leading to this particular story reveal bit by bit the radical differences between the Hebrew God and the other gods of the ancient world. Where other gods were wrathful and vengeful, the Hebrew God was loving. From the creation account, to Abraham, Issac, and Jacob, we encounter figures who buck against and disbelieve divine love, which affects the ways they associate with and invoke harm to the people in their midst.
So we have Jacob who spends his entire life shouldering a deceptive identity, who knows he’s brought a hell of a lot of trouble upon himself. After a night of wrestling, he’s given a new name, a better name from Jacob to Israel. He comes face-to-face with God and survives. Jacob undergoes radical change and is transformed from one identity to a new one. Not only is he physically marked, but he’s given a chance for rebirth. Marty Solomon explains this encounter as a revelation of divine love. In his old identity, Jacob couldn’t accept the love of God and didn’t love others well. He perpetuated harm, incited division. The early morning blessing is a reminder of his worth as image-bearer. It’s a blessing that cannot be stolen or unfairly taken, just accepted.
I think there’s a temptation for us all to sink into particular characteristics, to take on the identities we’ve always known and avoid any change. But we were made for continued renewal and reform. It’s unnatural to stay the same, to cling to the identities that hold us back and cause us to perpetuate harm under the guise of “this is who I am.” We speak more of depravity than love because it’s easier to recognize our mistakes and sins, to hate ourselves than love ourselves. We forget that before everything else, before we fell to corruption and sin, we were beloved, breathed over with the intonation of very good.
New Identities
Each week, there’s more viral warnings against deconstruction; deconstruction as deceptive, as trendy, as sexy, as faulty. It’s a battle I’m weary of fighting. To be honest, I never wanted to fight or argue. I just wanted to ask honest questions like our Hebrew brothers and sisters. I am wrestling and daring God to meet me. I’m clinging to divine hope, while deconstructing everything else and rebuilding brick by brick. It is holy work; ancient work. But some view it as reckless. Jacob walked with a limp after his encounter at Peniel. Like Jacob, we all bear scars when we dare disturb status quos; when we deconstruct and adopt renewed identities. As an optimist, I can still see goodness, remnants of hope and glimmers of wonder. But it is not enough to point only to God and ignore the ways some identities are wreaking havoc. It’s not good or holy to cover up abuse for the sake of the church’s reputation. In the past week, there’s been breaking news of sexual abuse cover up in John MacArthur’s church, Hillsong, and sexual harassment at Christianity Today.
There’s rot in our tradition; bodies broken by Christian people.
We need new identities; not identities formed by tradition or culture or region, but Jesus. This means taking a measured look at the voices and celebrity leaders whose books we still buy and sermons we still share and seminaries/churches/institutions we still recommend. It means caring more for the wounded than upholding marriage, respecting women’s dignity far more than fighting tooth and nail for complementarianism. I deconstruct from a desire to come face to face with the goodness of God, goodness often shrouded by power-hungry abusers and toxic religion.
Jacob’s story grants us permission to wrestle for as long as we need, to honestly evaluate our identities and accept necessary growth. God meets us in the deserts of disbelief, overwhelming questions, grief and sorrow, spiritual deconstruction... God meets us where we are and instead of screaming at us to get out, deigns to join us in our journeys. Sometimes I think we don’t give God enough credit. Because if God has the patience to wrestle with a stubborn man all night, God can do the same with us, especially when our wrestling stems from sensitive hearts and righteous outrage. Our emotions may lead us further into the wilderness but we are not alone. We may even emerge with new identities.
Loving & Savoring
Substack Essay: Born in the Boughs – The Womb of Imagination – My essay written for The Nehemiah Collective’s Rebuild the Ruins Substack newsletter. Here’s a snippet: Through the years, I’ve assimilated, faltered and questioned, wandered and deconstructed my faith. I haven’t climbed any trees in a while and for a very long time, my imagination was stagnant, nearly nonexistent, just the tiniest ember waiting for life to be breathed back into it. For many years, I didn’t understand the link between imagination and faith, the significance of holy curiosity birthed in childhood. In many ways, spiritual deconstruction reignited my dormant imagination. It offered permission to think beyond the boxes I’d been confined to, and return again to the safety of a tree long gone but still remembered, finding joy and renewal in the wonder of creation.
Book: A Church Called Tov – An important book about resisting and fighting against abuse in the church while seeking the goodness that church was meant to be.
Favorite Thing: P.F. Candle Co Diffuser – Over the weekend, we stayed at an incredible airbnb that smelled heavenly due to these lovely diffusers. We promptly ordered one and honestly, the scent is giving me so much joy right now.
Recipe: Parmesan Risotto – It’s still been cold here in Denver, and one of my favorite cold weather comfort dishes is risotto. It takes time to make, but is absolutely worth the process of building flavor through heat and singing broth. This recipe is incredible!
Very interesting. Let’s talk again soon
😊❤️🙏🏻