Last week we zoomed in on parts of the Diocese of Massachusetts clergy conference. We heard talks from the Rev. Dr. Kate Sonderegger, Episcopal priest and Professor of Systematic Theology at Virginia Seminary.
But what is theology? Can we actually dare to have a Doctrine of God? Sonderegger spoke to the intimate connection between academic explorations and prayer. “Theology is the intellect at prayer—alive and encountering us in all things.” I can relate to that, because I find myself talking to God, and sometimes Jesus, all the time—conversationally as well as asking for specific healing help. It’s simply a habit I’ve had since I was a very young child. At least God never talks back with advice, teaching, direction, or, God forbid, counseling. I guess God is like my mind’s eye, opening me to notice, or think, or feel, or imagine new things.
Sometimes an attention-arresting question pops into my mind, like the one God-in-Jesus popped to Peter, asking him the same question THREE times: Do you love me? Well, duh, now feed my sheep!
God’s Love IS God’s will. Not hard to understand but easy to forget, especially when you’re busy blaming others, shaming yourself, spouting off like Job, or just plain feeling unloved, unloveable, too proud to ask others for help, or grumped out. And when we fail, which is inevitable, then there is still Love enough to go round. So touch “restart.”
Living into this faith of Jesus in a secular age is scandalous. Sonderegger said: “Simply being an ordinary person who is a person of faith, is an important testament to the goodness and glory of God.” With a touch of humor, this academic theologian recognized that in the eyes of the secular world, a Christian—a person who puts their faith in a God who died and rose again, and shapes their life according to ancient laws—must be an idiot or a bigot or both. Nevertheless, to be the person who you are—to be an ordinary person, imperfect but loving, thoughtful, and decent—is itself an invitation to the people you know who love and respect you but who have no time for God, to wonder whether your faith and your goodness may in fact be related after all.
May we all have the courage to be visible symbols of God’s presence in our ordinary lives, and may our very ordinariness reveal to others the possibility of divine presence everywhere. Grace after all is the experience of being fully known AND fully loved at the same time.
