Thank you, Sean. I know that I am certainly more teachable when the teacher is willing to be vulnerable. I grew up in a religion where the person behind the pulpit rarely if ever showed any vulnerability, and the concept of grace, supposedly so central to Christianity, wasn’t talked about. I know today these preachers weren’t bad, they were simply teaching what they themselves had learned. It was all about creating some unreachable ideal for human behavior (I’d better be good for goodness sake!) and it really gave me a warped sense of who I was. It also completely turned me off to organized religion by the time I became a teen. Not because it was bad (though I thought so at the time) but because it wasn’t helpful. Then my wife and I accidentally (another story there) heard a husband and wife preach at a dying downtown Methodist several years ago. Their sermons didn’t focus on churchy concepts about right or wrong, but on what it means to be human, and to have questions. They shared their own foibles, and their own questions. It was very refreshing.
We don’t attend church today, but the pastors, now retired, have become our dearest friends (interestingly they no longer attend church either).
I think we’re all “fucked up” to some degree, and in my case misguided theology was certainly a contributor. And I think part of my own healing must be tied to forgiving the church. ACIM would say I do this because it never really happened. I must admit I still don’t fully grasp that concept, and that’s where grace for me is so helpful, so comforting when I’m willing to accept it. I resonate with your words “God gives only equally. If you recognize His gift in anyone, you have acknowledged what He has given you.” A nice definition of grace.
Thanks Sean for your humility, and your willingness to be vulnerable. I think when any of us is vulnerable, it gives others permission to do the same. It’s an act of kindness.
Thank you, Sean. I know that I am certainly more teachable when the teacher is willing to be vulnerable. I grew up in a religion where the person behind the pulpit rarely if ever showed any vulnerability, and the concept of grace, supposedly so central to Christianity, wasn’t talked about. I know today these preachers weren’t bad, they were simply teaching what they themselves had learned. It was all about creating some unreachable ideal for human behavior (I’d better be good for goodness sake!) and it really gave me a warped sense of who I was. It also completely turned me off to organized religion by the time I became a teen. Not because it was bad (though I thought so at the time) but because it wasn’t helpful. Then my wife and I accidentally (another story there) heard a husband and wife preach at a dying downtown Methodist several years ago. Their sermons didn’t focus on churchy concepts about right or wrong, but on what it means to be human, and to have questions. They shared their own foibles, and their own questions. It was very refreshing.
We don’t attend church today, but the pastors, now retired, have become our dearest friends (interestingly they no longer attend church either).
I think we’re all “fucked up” to some degree, and in my case misguided theology was certainly a contributor. And I think part of my own healing must be tied to forgiving the church. ACIM would say I do this because it never really happened. I must admit I still don’t fully grasp that concept, and that’s where grace for me is so helpful, so comforting when I’m willing to accept it. I resonate with your words “God gives only equally. If you recognize His gift in anyone, you have acknowledged what He has given you.” A nice definition of grace.
Thanks Sean for your humility, and your willingness to be vulnerable. I think when any of us is vulnerable, it gives others permission to do the same. It’s an act of kindness.
Beautiful 😌