Gears, Wires, and Batteries

I have seen people who, shaking their faith at one level, throw out everything in a few years' time.

My brother is an example who did this and ended up denying Yeshua. My cousin is an example of a person who did this and ended up an atheist. A friend of mine years back did this, and rejected Yeshua, became a Jew, then went finally went atheist.

James, I know this sounds dumb and maybe even controlling (gosh, I hate religious control) but I am fearful you will reject Yeshua in a few years time.

I have yet to witness someone who, cutting themselves off from their religious community, remains faithful to their convictions.

Judah Gabriel Himango's comments on
A Far, Far Better Thing

You'll probably want to read that blog post plus Sacred before continuing on here, just to keep the context.

I've received a number of well wishes and comments of concern similar to Judah's over the past day or so. When I said I'd be leaving the Messianic movement, it was almost like I said I have an incurable and fatal disease. Some people are treating me as if I'm dying.

Don't worry, I'm still around and I'm going to still be around. Now that I've said that, you're probably worried (just kidding).

After the first time I described what I'm doing as stripping my religious assumptions down to their "gears, wires, and batteries", I became really attached to the metaphor. If you think about it, once you take the body, moulding, and other stuff off a machine that, strictly speaking, doesn't contribute to the device actually running, you are at the mechanism's most basic level. It's all laid bare and you can see how it "ticks".

There are a variety of definitions of the word "deconstruct", but wiktionary.org defines it as (often metaphorical) to break something down into its component parts. Since I'm often metaphorical, the definition seems to fit what I'm doing right now. I'm deconstructing my understanding of who I am in God and how I should express that identity.

Don't worry, though. I also plan on reconstructing myself again, hopefully into a more viable and valuable believer in Yeshua.

Another fitting metaphor is this:

In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls. -1 Peter 1:6-9

Of course, Peter was making a commentary on the Prophet Malachi:

But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the LORD will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness, and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the LORD, as in days of old and as in previous years. -Malachi 3:2-4

The Bible has a number of other "refiner's fire" metaphors but they all convey the same basic message: difficulties and trials don't exist to make you suffer, but to burn away the imperfections that prevent you from becoming a more "pure" product. That's how I'm choosing to understand the current part of my journey in faith (and I wrote something about fire and silver last summer).

Yes, I'm concerned about the lack of community I'll face once I leave my current congregation, but I feel as if I've hit an impasse where I am, doing the same thing over and over without the ability to expand and refine my environment. I can't just demand that the people around me change or tolerate my changes simply for my sake, yet I don't believe I should stop my spiritual development or explorations, either.

While the path ahead seems filled with booby traps and land mines, it's also presenting me with something fresh and new. There's a certain freedom in having the "open road" before me. I have the same anticipation as I would if I were about to get in my car and head out on the freeway to someplace I've never been to before but always wanted to visit. The irony is I don't know exactly where the road will take me.

In Genesis 12:1, God said to Abram, "Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you". My journey hardly has that sort of scope or promise attached to it, but I believe it doesn't have the same risks or responsibilities, either. I'm no Abraham, but I have to believe that God has a plan for my life, too.

Sometime between now and May, June, or July, I expect something to happen to add substance and form to my stripped down chassis. When I find out what that is, I'll be sure to let you know.

"A Jew never gives up. We're here to bring Mashiach, we will settle for nothing less." -Harav Yitzchak Ginsburgh

When I quote Rabbi Ginsburgh's statement, I'm not saying I'm a Jew. I am saying that we are all here to prepare the world for the coming of the Mashiach. In order to do that, we have to keep striving to be better than we are right now. We have to keep building ourselves up and building each other up. Let's make sure that the desires of God are our highest focus.

Blessings.