146: Stay Open

I was elated. My query was selected by an online publication, which meant I would write  something for a much wider audience for the very first time. A quick side note, in case you’re not familiar: in the writing-world, a query is a submission a writer sends in to a publication. Sometimes the entire article or essay is already written and included, and other times the query offers the main idea, a word-count estimate, and a timeline for how quickly the writer can get a draft written. In this case, my query was the idea kind, and like I said, it was accepted. Which meant, since I’d promised a finished essay would be ready one week later, I needed to get writing.

Most of my time and energy that week was spent on that article. I poured my heart and soul into each and every word. And I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty pleased with the finished draft. I proudly hit ‘send’ and waited to hear back from the editor.

I waited. And waited. And then waited a little bit more. Finally, a week or so later, I received a response. And it was not what I expected.

There were so many edits. All throughout the document I found question marks, notes, thoughts, corrections. Edits galore. A few were encouraging, but most indicated some sort of needed change. It seemed my draft was not as finished as I originally thought, and I definitely wasn’t the expert. In those moments, as I sat before my computer screen, I experienced a mix of embarrassment, defensiveness, inadequacy. My spirit was crushed and I wanted to shut it all down.

So, that’s what I did, for a little bit anyway. After a solid 24-hours licking my wounds, I decided to swallow my pride and give the edited article a second look. As I read through and actually considered the guidance being offered on the page, I had to admit, the suggested changes were good. In fact, they would probably make the article even better. I mean, that was the whole point of an editor, right?

So, I opened myself to the edits: I made some corrections; I moved words around; I made thoughts tighter, shorter, stronger.

And you know what? I think it became a better article. I learned so much about the craft of writing; and I even learned a bit more about myself. Looking back, I believe the whole process made me a better writer.

I’ve mentioned before in previous episodes how much I enjoy editing; well, I should probably clarify—I do enjoy editing; clearly I do not necessarily enjoy being edited.

If I had to guess, I’d say that’s probably true for most of us. On the page and in life. We like to believe we’re already final drafts—people who have fully arrived—with everything figured out and no more room to grow. We are the experts. So we dig our heels into our certainty and vow to stay exactly the same, no pivots needed. We tout this posture like a badge of honor. So proud of our refusal to change, to learn, to grow. Maybe it’s just me?

Lately, I’ve been considering if, perhaps, Jesus offers us a better way.

In the story of Jesus and the Syrophonecian or Canaanite woman, which I read from the gospels of Mark and Matthew in remind{h}er 144, Jesus is approached by a woman who asks him to heal her demon-possessed daughter. And at first, Jesus doesn’t seem very open to this. In fact, Matthew tells us he initially ignores the woman. And then, as she persists, he basically tells her to get in line; after all, his main concern for now is ministering to the Jewish people, and she is not Jewish.

Now, at first glance, this response bothers me. I mean, by this point, Jesus is known for hanging out with the “wrong” crowd, the outsiders and outcasts. And so for Jesus to turn this woman away…it just doesn’t really track. Honestly, it confuses me more than anything else.

However, that’s now how the story ends. The woman expresses her faith in a way that seems to surprise Jesus. In a way that takes him aback a bit. It’s as if he suddenly recognizes and is reminded of what he already knows: that the gifts of God are for her, too. That she, too, belongs to God.

And so, in response, Jesus reconsiders and decides to heal the woman’s daughter. And in doing so, his ministry expands.

It’s a fascinating interaction and conversation. As I mentioned in the last episode, there are so many layers here; there’s so much we could unpack and consider and explore.

For now, though, I wonder if Jesus took this opportunity to show his disciples {and us} what it looks like to have a teachable spirit. To be open to learning and growing and shifting and adjusting in real time to God’s will and God’s way.

We don’t typically think of Jesus as someone who needed to do this. After all, he was fully God. That’s 100% divine and I’m not sure you can improve upon that. And yet, he was also 100% human. Not half-God, half-human. Fully, 100%, both. It’s an equation I can’t really wrap my head around. And I’m not sure how this equation played out in his actual life, on a practical level. It’s all so very mysterious. I’m no theologian, although I have consulted quite a few as I’ve wrestled with this story. And ultimately, I think it’s okay to let the mystery be a mystery here; to not have it all figured out.

What I do know {from much personal experience} is that part of being human is learning to live with a teachable spirit, staying open to all God might be up to. And so while Jesus didn’t need correction, I wonder if, in his humanity, he was open and willing to change. Here’s what I mean:

While I don’t fully understand it, I believe that Jesus thought he was being faithful to what he knew God’s will to be at that point. And then, when he discovers the faith of this woman before him, he seems to open to the possibility that God is up to something he wasn’t necessarily expecting. Not yet, anyway. Maybe he knew the whole story already, how everything would play out; or maybe he didn’t. Either way, there is an openness and a humility Jesus exemplifies here, and it is a posture worth paying attention to.

Now it feels important to name that the openness we see in Jesus does not necessarily mean anything goes. Our openness must be tethered to the heart of God, as Jesus’ was. And God does not condone harm, to ourselves or toward others; instead, God desires an openness that leads to healing and hope and wholeness.

Here’s the thing: when we are so set in our ways, I wonder if we risk missing out on God’s way—on what God might be up to in and around us, and maybe even through us.

As my friend Kami so wisely offers, there is a difference between being stuck in cement and rooted in soil. The first doesn’t allow for much movement or growth or nourishment; but the second is a rich, solid place to grow. To expand. To continue to become.

When we are presented with new information, when our ideas and understandings and opinions are challenged, when we discover a new perspective from a different lived experience, when God shows up in a place or in a person or in a way that is unexpected or unfamiliar, how are we to respond?

We can certainly choose to be defensive—to lash out, point the finger, dig in our heels, puff up our chests.

Or we can follow Jesus’ lead and choose to live with a teachable spirit—with humility, curiosity, flexibility, generosity. We can let go of our need to be the expert. We can remain open to the movement of God and guidance from the Spirit, as we seek to align our lives with the character and mission of Christ.

As seminary professor and author Robert Guelich once said in conversation with author and counselor Janet Hagberg,

“Being Christ-like really means allowing God to do anything God wants in our lives, just as Christ allowed God to do anything in his life.”

All throughout our lives, God lovingly moves and works to uniquely shape and mold us into Christ’s likeness. And I’m learning, in order to experience and participate in such transformation, we have to be open to it.

So today, remember to stay open. To be humble and teachable, ready and willing to follow wherever God may lead, as together, we continue to become the people God calls and invites us to be.