Oh my.  I go away for a day, because my body has succumbed to all the terrors of stomach flu, and when I come back, I have a small garden of comments on Tuesday’s post.

Let’s see.  Before I can explain what’s happened (indeed, I thought that the incident would quite pass without me having to say anything publicly), I must quote from C. S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity in which he gives a lovely analogy of how we, as Christians, should behave toward others.  This is not meant as a sermon.  I use it to remind myself and others of the purpose of my blog, which is to give everyone the space and time to figure out what they believe.

In Mere Christianity’s preface, Lewis says this:

“I hope no reader will suppose that ‘mere’ Christianity is here put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions–as if a man could adopt it in preference to Congregationalism or Greek Orthodoxy or anything else.  It is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms.  If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I attempted.  But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals.  The hall is a place to wait in, a place from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in.  For that purpose the worst of the rooms (whichever that may be) is, I think, preferable.  It is true that some people may find they have to wait in the hall for a considerable time, while others feel certain almost at once which door they must knock at.  I do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait.  When you do get into your room you will find that the long wait has done you some kind of good which you would not have had otherwise.  But you must regard it as waiting, not as camping.  You must keep on praying for light: and, of course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the rules which are common to the whole house.  And above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and panelling.  In plain language, the question should never be: ‘Do I like that kind of service?’ but ‘Are these doctrines true: Is holiness here?  Does my conscience move me towards this?  Is my reluctance to knock at this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular door-keeper?’

“When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall.  If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them.  That is one of the rules common to the whole house.”

I’m afraid I’ve somehow given the wrong impression–that daily, I’m going to give cozy inspirational anecdotes for you, my dear readers, to live by.  Or at least irrefutable truths.  That would be much more comfortable, wouldn’t it?  Instead, I’ve opened myself up to criticism and backlash by hashing out, in a very public forum, my process of thinking through issues.  It is this process, this up-and-down journey that unsettles some readers.  That’s okay.

Please, if this blog isn’t meant for you, unsubscribe to the RSS Feed or don’t look it up each day.  If, however, you also wonder the same things sometimes, then you’re more than welcome to come along.  I, by no means, am saying I have answers.  Look at the title of my blog.  I am saying, “Do you want to wonder with me?”

To some, this looks like blasphemy and heresy.  To others, well, they are “disappointed” in me–they thought I could “think much better than this”–as one e-mail stated this past weekend.

I’m not going away, folks.  This is the Achilles’ heel of Christianity, as I see it–this knowing, once and for all, every bit of doctrine, every bit of creed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and not allowing others their own journey to truth.  For who can convince anyone of anything?  Who can make anyone believe anything?  I know I can’t.

So, here’s what happened in a nutshell.  I was asked to speak at a Christian women’s brunch; the leadership has since retracted it, because of the content of my blog–the fact that I question things.  They were afraid I would lead their women away from God.  Now before you think I’m upset, I’m not.  I’m hurt that I could be so misunderstood.  I’m hurt that anyone would think that I’m as divisive or as confused as that.  But the decision was made by a committee, by a group of women with diverse backgrounds and interests, and I understand this.  I’m allowing all of them to be in the “rooms” they need to be in.  This is not said in a mean fashion, rather in all honesty, said with the same tender loving care in which Lewis proposed the hallway picture above.

It does point, however, to the fact that there is fear of the unknown and the untrodden.  It does point to the fact that I am not at home in any church that won’t allow questions.  It does point to the fact that I’m a wanderer trying to find home.

I believe in God.  I just don’t know what He looks like all the time.  My sister Amy had a lovely idea the other day, which I’m going to share with you.  She said, “You know, Elissa, what if all of us carry pieces of God inside us, and the reason we need community is to share those pictures, those puzzle pieces, with each other, so that we might better see what He looks like?”

I like that, don’t you?  And it would apply to life in general, if you’re not a believer in God.  You need others to expand your vision of how life might be lived, or why is it lived at all.

I’m sending my love to all of you (and to those on the steering committee–it must have been an extremely hard decision!).  I want you all to know that I honor your journey, your faith, and your search for truth, wherever it may lead you.

[Post image: Monastery Corridor by mattox on stock.xchng]