Although
some people seem to thrive on chaos, I am not one of them. I prefer routine and
order and tend to feel unmoored when I face a great deal of change that happens
quickly. The Benedictine vow of stability suits me just fine.
That
said, chaos is also an important aspect of the spiritual life. Storms test our
foundation: are we truly grounded in God? If so, we will find safe shelter. If
not, the sand of the false self will dissolve beneath us and give us the opportunity to rebuild on the
rock of humility and gratitude.
Chaos
also allows us to see ingrained attitudes and behaviors that we don’t even recognize
in ourselves when we live in a bubble of our own making. Did men understand the
extent of male privilege until the suffragettes took to the streets and endured
imprisonment and hunger strikes to claim the right to vote? Did white people
understand that their access to education, employment, and housing and freedom
from oppression relied to a large extent on the color of their skin until people
of color recorded videos of killings, organized protests, and toppled statues
of people who fought to preserve slavery?
Chaos
invites us to reimagine our current beliefs and political structures to create
a more just society—a fuller vision of the kingdom of God. To do that, we must be
willing to tear down our current decaying and crumbling structures and rebuild.
Like carpenters, we can use a “spirit level”—an instrument designed to indicate
whether a surface is horizontal (level) or vertical (plumb). In building the
kingdom of God, love is the “spirit level” we need to ensure that all people
are on the same balanced footing and have the opportunity to rise as high as
their gifts and aspirations will take them.
The
same discipline we use to stay true to our routines of work and prayer allows
us to say yes to chaos, because in either situation, God is at the center and
keeps us grounded. As Psalm 27 says, “The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of
whom should I be afraid?”
No comments:
Post a Comment