Thursday, February 9, 2017

The Original Lie

There isn’t a single person I know who didn’t have some sort of self-image struggle growing up. Whether it was strife at home, a missing parent, bullies at school, or worse situations, everyone at some time has had questions about their worth as a person.

I remember running home from school, tears streaming down, internalizing some comment from another kid at school. My mother’s first question would always be, “Who told you that?”

It was invariably someone who most likely had issues of their own, but I never saw it that way. The words hurt and I didn’t understand why others would say such things.

The one hurt that stuck with me through the years was the repeated phrase, “You’re ugly.” Every time I let it fester inside, and every time my mother would ask, “Who told you that you were ugly?” She always tried her best to wipe away the pain, but after a while I learned to believe the “ugly” mantra about myself.

Once I started believing it, I acted differently. My self-confidence plummeted, my attitude towards life changed and I began to seek ways to make myself prettier…at least in my own eyes. That began the life-long struggle concerning my self-image.

Of course, last autumn, losing my hair certainly didn’t help. All the old “ugly” feelings came back. All the pain filled my head, swarming my insides as well.

While reading the Tanach, the Hebrew version of the Old Testament, I was suddenly struck by what happened with Adam and Eve after they ate the apple. I loved the book’s commentary about how God called to the man and woman in the garden. God already knew exactly where they were, but He called out in order to enter into conversation with Adam and invite him to repentance.

But what hit me hard was God’s next question, “Who told you that you are naked?” (Tanach 3:11, also the same verse in the Christian version.)

The same words I had heard from my mother, “Who told you…,” came back smacking me in the face. I had never recognized these same words were uttered by God.

And both times they meant the same thing.

The serpent was determined to tell Adam and Eve that they were not enough—that they needed to eat the forbidden fruit to be more like God. They didn’t recognize that they had been made in the image and likeness of God. Nor did they recognize the serpent’s jealousy of them. They needed to be more…

So original sin came from the original lie.

In that moment I was able to see the truth. My mom would tell me that perhaps someone was jealous of me (I couldn’t imagine why), or that they were struggling at home and therefore lashed out at school. Even as an adult, rejection triggered those whispers that it was happening because I was ugly.

Now I see the truth.

Time to let go of the lie I’ve held so close to my heart for most of my life. Time to remember that God made me in His image and that the serpent who has whispered the lie of ugliness to me my entire life is wrong.

No longer shall I believe the original lie.

Whatever your lie is?

No longer should you believe it either.

Monday, January 16, 2017

In the Beginning

I had a mentor. His name was Dr. William Elefant. He was a strong Jewish man, vehemently dedicated to the writings of the Torah. We met unassumingly enough, though now I see how auspicious the event truly was.

We would meet in a library in the middle of Denver, a sort of central point for both of us. When he walked into the room, his gait revealed many things about him, but two really stick in my mind. The first was that he would not be encumbered by his age. Though late into his 70’s he walked with purpose and joyfulness. The second was that one would never know he was in pain with each step. 

While he taught me many things about the Jewish faith, he also revealed many things about my own Christian journey, and to this day I am grateful to God (and Thomas Smith) for introducing us. He taught me about Gematria, the Jewish way of using letters and numbers. He introduced me to the book, The Wisdom in the Hebrew Alphabet (by Rabbi Michael Munk), which opened up a whole new world for me. 

I’ll never forget the day he said, “Today, I wish to show you something special.” We had been talking about my research on science and faith and how the topics intersected in so many ways. So now we made our way over to the other side of the library, Dr. Elefant’s feet shuffling while mine striding, a side effect of our ages. 

“There,” he said as we reached a massive book displayed on a special wooden slab. “You need this gem.”

The book was called the Tanach and I have mentioned it before. What I have not described is the intensity in which this man loved this book. He tenderly laid hands upon it and shook his head as if he was not worthy of it. “This is truth,” Dr. Elefant said, “and you will not be able to finish your work without it.”

I took copious notes of the things Dr. Elefant taught me, but I’ve never forgotten those particular words. He knew I was working on a manuscript that wove science and faith together and he adamantly encouraged me.

After he died in the fall of 2011, I set my research aside. It was too difficult to continue at the moment and life seemed to be getting more demanding at home as well. 

This last autumn, my heart seemed drawn to the Tanach. I ventured back to the library in the middle of Denver in the hopes of checking out a smaller version of the glorious book that I remembered. But it was not to be right then. My heart continued to tug at me and finally just before Christmas I tried again. This time I was able to check out The Tanach. 
I know that Dr. Elefant is most likely chuckling at the timing. It’s been five years since he passed away and since I set my research down. The timing of the tugging at my heart has meaning. 

In the Hebrew alphabet, the fifth letter is Hei. The Wisdom in the Hebrew Alphabet described the letter Hei in the following manner: “The sound of Hei is a mere exhalation of breath, hei; it requires little effort, no movement of the lip, tongue, or mouth. This effortless enunciation symbolized the effortless creation of the world—as the Psalmist testifies…By the word of HASHEM the heavens were made, and by the breath of His mouth all their hosts (Psalms 33:6).

My heart is on fire with the desire to share with you the wisdom of the Tanach interwoven with what nature (and therefore science) has to share with us. For this week, though, I will leave you with the Tanach’s version of Genesis 1:1.

“In the beginning of God’s creating…”

Notice the tense. Creating. God continues to create. This so specifically speaks to what I want to share with you. Science and faith are not at odds. They weave a beautiful story that we on Earth have forgotten. 

It’s time to remember.

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Wiping the Slate

Have you heard of The Tanach? Wow. I recently had the privilege to check this special book out of the library. It’s the Hebrew version of the Torah, Prophets and Writings. After reading just the introduction, I had to share the first two sentences with you.

“There are two kinds of creation. There is a creation of mountains and valleys, of solar systems and brain cells—and there is the creation of the people who give meaning and purpose to the universe they inhabit.” (The Tanach: The Artscroll Series/Stone Edition, Mesorah Publications, Ltd, 1996)

Imagine an Artist using His palette to create the backdrop for a grand plan. He fashions all the world, the universe, the stage on which He will unleash an even greater art. He chooses huge balls of fire—lights that sparkle from the darkness of space, and tiny delicate flowers that bend in the wind. He produces a stage in which sight, smell, taste, sound and touch all play a part. When it is just right, He then places humanity on the stage, giving them power over all. 

It doesn’t matter if you are a creationist or an evolutionist, the earth—the ground on which you stand, the air in which you breathe—was created before humanity stepped forth on it. 

What is our response to this gift?

Just in this last year alone, around this globe, there have been mass exoduses of people from their native lands because of war and hate. Bombs, chemical warfare and other tools of destruction have torn apart the backdrop that our Creator so carefully painted for us. We kill animals for sport or neglect them because of our boredom or lack of concern. We kill other humans, from the time they are conceived to the time we selfishly choose to snuff their life during any breath they take.

So is this how we say thanks for the gift of the earth? Or to use the phrase the Tanach exclaims, is this how we “give meaning and purpose to the universe” we inhabit? 

This is the first day of 2017. This is the first day of the rest of our lives. Time to repair the damage we and others cause, whether it be the physical bombs that destroy earth and flesh, or the emotional bombs of our words that obliterate the gifts we’ve been given through the earth and each other. 

Join me in striving each day to do something healing and say something healing. Pick up a piece of trash drifting through the grocery store parking lot and dispose of it properly. Apologize for the inconsiderate word or action towards a family member, neighbor or friend. Pray and spend energy on healing this grand painting of a world we’ve been given. 

Remember each day is a new gift and a new opportunity. If you feel as though you failed the day before, don’t worry! A new day is coming. Reflect in the evening and start anew in the morning.

Be as thoughtful about living as the Artist is about creating.