Where the Colors Blend by stephen copeland

Author:stephen copeland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-03T00:00:00+00:00

You ask man to leave and the leaves to fall,

and in doing so, both leave life to die,

crackly and dry, wet and thin, prolonging

the soil’s absorption, which brings life

again by spring—sweet tranquility in this mystery!

So how lonely were You, my Lord,

when You left heaven with Them for me?

YEAR II

8

THE SECOND DRIVE

T he narrative of Change.

When I loved and left for life again, searching for my name.

It has been a year since I moved to Charlotte, but I am still searching for my name, I think. I keep thinking about those two questions that the Roman guard in the parable yelled at the rabbi who was standing at the fortress gate: “Who are you? What are you doing?”

I still do not think I can answer the first question.

Who am I?

And I don’t mean vocationally or relationally or romantically.

Who am I at the core of my being?

Who does God—if He exists—say that I am?

It is difficult to know who you are when you are in a spiritual no-man’s-land. And it is even more of a no-man’s-land than last year. More questions. More doubts. Fewer answers and absolutes. If we are spiritual beings—and I like to believe we are—then it is easy to feel rather lost and insecure while deconstructing our faith. And by now I am convinced that this is what this phase is for me: a deconstruction.

Two years ago I graduated from college, my Bible degree in hand, with all sorts of answers to life’s biggest questions. I had been seized by the sin of certitude. I could tell you what I thought was right or wrong doctrinally speaking, who was living in Christ and who was living in sin, what the Bible says and what that means for our culture, and what the purpose of my life was—to glorify God, of course! My theology was so well packaged. My worldview was so dualistic. People were either Christians (saved), or they were lost (unsaved). If they were unsaved, then it was my responsibility to lead them to God, however forced and unnatural my rescue attempt might be. But now I have more questions than I have answers. More concerns than I have comforts.

In Charlotte, I’ve realized that I don’t like the faith-lens that I am viewing reality through. For example, on a personal level, the shame is still taxing. Guilt and conviction are okay for a short time—it is your conscience speaking. But shame seems to be unhealthy. No one ought to have such a low view of him- or herself, to be so plagued by unworthiness. My shame is even worse this year, it seems. Probably because of the mistakes I’ve made in Charlotte—the innocence that has slipped away from me—in this new culture with new friends who live differently than my BCBs (Bible College Boys); and probably also because of the internal isolation that spiritual no-man’s-land evokes. My overall sadness only complicates things and makes me feel that there is something deeply wrong with my faith as I wander

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