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Beautiful Heretic: Finding Meaning

Traci Hubbard               

 

What's the difference between Elon Musk and God?

God doesn't think he's Elon Musk.

 

Proverbs 3:5–6 gives us one of the most quoted and least practiced verses in the Bible:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

and do not rely on your own insight.

In all your ways acknowledge him,

and he will make straight your paths.”

We love this verse… right up until we have a plan. Because trusting the Divine is beautiful in theory, but in practice, we really prefer Google Maps with turn-by-turn directions and an estimated arrival time shared with us by the voice of Morgan Freeman.


We say, “Lord, lead me,” but what we often mean is, “Lord, bless the route I already picked.”


We love this verse. We needlepoint it. We put it on mugs. We quote it right before we tell ourselves we are making a decision, but the truth is we have already decided.


Trusting God with all our heart? That’s risky. That means surrendering the illusion that we are, in fact, in charge… which is uncomfortable for those of us who like a five-year plan and a backup five-year plan that guarantees 14% interest on every dollar, time, and talent we invest. And yet, this is exactly where Jesus begins, by inviting us into loving ways and living in ways that do not always make sense on paper, but somehow creates deep meaning in our souls.


Jesus, as it turns out, was a beautiful heretic. Not a heretic in the sense of abandoning the Holy in whom he was eternally and infinitely connected, but in the sense of lovingly disrupting what people thought their God was like. Jesus challenged systems that prized power over people, certainty over compassion, and hierarchy over humility. He kept turning the world upside down, and somehow, it landed right-side up, but not always in ways we could touch it or in the span of our lifetime.


Through the pen of the prophet Jeremiah, YHWH promises: “The days are surely coming… when I will make a new covenant… I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts.” Not on stone tablets. Not in books of spiritual disciplines and not even in church newsletters. On our hearts.


On hearts…actually, the translation reads in hearts.


The intention of this bi-lateral promise, this new covenant focused on the committed actions of both equal parties towards each other to fulfill certain promises unconditionally. This new relationship is not about controlling behavior. Its intention is about transforming desire. The Divine is saying, “I don’t want to be managed. I want to be known.” And Jesus embodies this covenant, walking it out in real time, embodying it among real people, loving unconditionally during real human messes.


Jesus tells a story in Mark’s Gospel teaching us that “The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed…”

A mustard seed—tiny, unimpressive, borderline annoying. In Jesus’ day, mustard was more weed than crop. It grew everywhere, whether you wanted it to or not. It was the stubborn rhubarb of that time. So, when Jesus says YHWH’s kin-dom is like that, he’s not offering a polished vision of spiritual success. He’s not running a campaign for The Vancouver School of Theology to hire progressive thinkers. Jesus is offering something small, something subversive, something impossible to control.


In other words, meaning doesn’t always arrive with fireworks, roses, sunrises or intentions. Sometimes meaning sneaks in, takes root, and surprises us when we least expect it, when we have forgotten that we planted a tiny little seed of encouragement and love. The ways of loving and living that Jesus taught and the Spirit continues to teach us are upside-down compared to the ways of consumerism and authoritarians.


Matthew reminds us that Jesus taught, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” not the peace-keepers, not the conflict-avoiders, but the ones willing to step into tension, into peaceful marches down urban and rural main streets, into the energy around death beds and grief, and feel it while being a healing presence with it and through it.


Then Jesus doubles down, but not like someone who knows the dealer is going to deal a perfect 21 in a game of Blackjack. He doubles down by letting go of power he could easily own. Instead of galloping, he lives on his knees embodying his teaching of, “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant. The greatest among you will be your servant.” If the desks of the rulers of North Korea, China, Russia, and the United States received this memo, I don’t think they had it tattooed on their souls or even written on a post it and stuck on their bathroom mirror to direct their day. The ways and instructions for loving and living are heretical dialogue in a world obsessed with climbing ladders. Jesus doesn’t just reject the world’s definition of leadership, of the ladder of success, he turns it into a towel and a basin.


The Apostle Paul captures this perfectly in his letter to the church in Philippi which was focused on the internal bickering, gossiping, and gaslighting led by two women, each wanting their own way no matter how much their ways fanned negative energy in the church. Paul reminds them, “Jesus, though the energy of YHWH, emptied himself…he let go of ways the world believed to be successful and worthy of imitation. Jesus did not cling to power. He did not protect his status. He chose humility. He chose to surrender to the ways of the heart of YHWH, and he chose love knowing it would cost him everything, even his life.


Folks, this teaching is not a doctrine or creed. Jesus’ teaching and example are the embodied template of how to have our being, out thinking, our decisions, our actions, and our moving in and through life in intimate connection with the Lover of our souls who is the lover of all souls, unconditionally.


A very successful woman in the audience where I was speaking in Atlanta, Georgia, shared a story with me. She was a respected community leader and an extravagant philanthropist. She shared about hiking with a group on a well-marked trail. Halfway through the hike, the path split. One sign pointed left toward the scenic overlook that was very popular, paved, and full of people. The other pointed right toward a quieter trail with a sign that read, “Rough terrain. Proceed with caution.”


Most of the group went left. She hesitated, then chose to go right. You know the story…the trail she chose was much more difficult. It was muddy and slippery, so she had to walk at a very slow and intentional pace. At one point she wondered if she had made a mistake because nothing about it looked interesting enough to take a picture and post it on her social media platforms. But near the end, the trail opened into a clearing with no crowd, no noise, and a breathtaking view she had not expected. Later she said, “I didn’t find what I planned to find on my journey, but I found what I needed.” That’s the beautiful heresy of Jesus. Meaning doesn’t always come from choosing the impressive path. Sometimes it comes from trusting the Scared enough to take the quieter, humbler, love-filled way, even when we’re not entirely sure where it will lead us.


Folks, trusting the Divine with all our heart doesn’t mean having all the answers. It doesn’t guarantee we will understand the directions, the path, or our journey. It does not promise certainty, cold bottled water or face serum that wipes away the years of sun and fun. Trusting the Lord with all our hearts means choosing the “Kin-dom is within you all the way” sign. It means letting go of our own maps, our own plans, our own ways of traveling and following the signs, the embodied ways of Jesus which are ways of peace, humility, and small, faithful actions, planting mustard seeds of encouragement, hope, as we journey, letting go of the results because we are trusting the Holy with the outcome. Proverbs doesn’t say Mystery will give us a detailed map. It says Mystery will direct us through to where we need to be. Often this happens one step at a time.


Jeremiah reminds us that the Divine is doing something deeper than we can see, writing love, mercy, and faithfulness into our hearts. Jesus reminds us that the kin-dom grows quietly, steadily, sometimes so slowly we wonder if anything is happening at all. But we can trust that growth is happening. Trust doesn’t always feel spiritual. Sometimes it feels like showing up again. Sometimes it looks like planting a seed and refusing to dig it up every three days to check on it.


Jesus, the beautiful heretic, invites us to let go of power, to make peace, to serve boldly, and to find meaning not by climbing higher, but by loving deeper. We do not attain love and peace by climbing any kind of ladder. We discover and embody love and peace when we live with a towel and basin.

And somehow, in that upside-down journey, God shows us the way around, over, under and through straight to the places where our interior buckets are refilled so we can pour ourselves out to the people we meet along the way.


The good news is this: The Lover of our souls is far more patient with our lives than we are. Mystery trusts the process, even when we don’t. And the smallest seed of faith, planted in a willing heart, can grow into something that offers shade, rest, and hope to others. So, trust the Divine Gardner who grows things. Even when we can’t see it yet. And especially when it feels small. Because the kin-dom of God is already among us—quietly, faithfully, growing. May it be so, amen.

 

I want to end with a random thought I had on the airplane from Calgary to Kelowna. I was admiring the clouds, the mountains, and then I thought, “Genesis tells us that in the beginning there was nothing. Then our Creator said, "Let there be light!" I understand this to mean that there was still nothing, but now we could see it. Okay, it’s clear to me I need to let go and not lean on my own understanding. Trusting to glean understanding in the higher ways of Mystery and laying hold of and embodying the life-giving meaning asks us to let go of our thoughts, our plans, and journey on our knees. Jesus reminds us that the dark places, the messy places, the bottom places, are where the ways of being and the ways through become clear. May we become knee walkers, love talkers, and Mystery trusters, because that’s how we travel with meaning. May it be so, amen.

 

 

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