If you tuned in to my last post, “A FAQ - A Frequently Awkward Question”, you saw that as I journeyed toward a God of Love, I spent some time stepping away from my former thoughts on God and the long-held traditional beliefs I had.

One thing that I mentioned was that I took Jesus off the table.

That’s a pretty threatening thought to have and express in my world.  Because, in Rocky’s and my life together, we spent most of our marriage working in churches.  And there’s an understanding that you have in churches that you are going to hold to certain beliefs that are foundationally the same as the rest of the team of leaders in the faith.

Well, Jesus is one of those “essentials” for people in Christianity — seeing that it’s in the name and all, “Christ”  –  ”Christianity” — it’s sort of built right in there….

For me, it was risky business to take Jesus off of the table as I was downsizing the craziness of my faith.  But I had such a mixed up idea about who God was, who Jesus was and ultimately, who I was that I reached a point where I felt I had to do something…

It screwed me up to turn on Christian radio and hear 5 different pastors talk about the same verse in the bible and land on 5 different theologies about God — and they all believed they were right and that the others were wrong. 

I stopped listening to Christian radio programs years ago.  I got afraid to go to my bible and read it because I figured, if the scholars can’t figure this thing out, then, who am I to think I could understand?

The scary thing for me was that, I had spent years seeing Jesus as the “kinder, gentler” version of God.  Like the Old Testament God was the scary-ass, punishing, don’t-piss-him-off, God.  And Jesus was like the sweet Kindergarten teacher who loved the most rambunctious kids in the class kind of person.

I spent some years hiding behind the well-marketed Jesus so that he could protect me from his rage-a-holic Dad.

At a certain point in my journey a couple of things hit me:

1. I was afraid to know God.

2. I was afraid to let go of Jesus.

Being afraid to know God came up in just thinking that there was a right way/wrong way on how to approach him.  Sort of like, there’s a holy protocol.  Maybe you’re required to sing first (if that’s the rule, then how many songs are enough?)  Or maybe to kneel or to bow (if that’s the rule, then how low and for how long?)  and that I was supposed to address God in a certain way, “Dear Lord…Holy God…Creator….Father…”

If I say it wrong or do it wrong, is the ground going to open up?  Okay, maybe not that but am I going to get a disease — or is that why I have a disease — because I made God mad??

Yikes.  Too freakin’ hard.  Too many rules.  

It’s easier to talk to Jesus.

But then, I realized that if Jesus was the manifestation of God’s heart and I didn’t know God then, I really didn’t know Jesus.

Then it got scary — because taking Jesus off the table is like letting go of the lucky rabbit’s foot that I used to keep in my pocket during my softball games.  If I lose ‘it’, I lose. I lose the power and the protection.

Once I realized that Jesus was my lucky rabbit foot to keep God from completely thrashing me, I realized that I had devalued who he is and my relationship with him and just resorted to him being some kind of existential bodyguard.

So, I took the biggest risk that I spiritually knew and I set Jesus aside so that I could go one-on-one with God.

Wow. I just exhaled right now in typing all this.  I didn’t realize that while I was writing all this I was holding my breath. But it makes sense because it was a pretty stressful time.

It’s like living your spiritual life walking the tightrope, with a God who is wiggling the rope and wanting you to fall — all  without having Jesus as the net anymore.

So, when I tell people that I took Jesus off the table, they might be tempted to think it was because he meant that little to me when really, if someone’s willing to step outside of their view, they might be able to see that I wanted a genuine relationship that much.

They can see what I did as that irreverent or they can see it as that respectful.  

And hungry.

And free.

Here’s what I figured:  If God really wanted me to have a hold of Jesus, He was going to put him back on the table. If this God who made me was really going to require Jesus to be my salvation — or else — than what loving God and Father is going to deny me the access point to my eternity?  If any of that is true, then isn’t a God who is love and who loves me going to reveal it to my seeking heart?

There’s so much that came to me during that time.  And I’m not going to tell about it right now because the answer isn’t the point.

There’s something powerful about the question.  Being able to take the big ol’ hairy risk of saying to God “You scare the shit out of me and I’m using Jesus to keep your angry self at bay and I don’t want our relationship to be that anymore — can we start a new conversation?”  And to know that we can and that he will and that he won’t punish us for doing so.

That’s more the point.

And that’s why I don’t need to save any one and I don’t lead anyone in any old school salvation prayer.  Not my job.  Because if I could convince you, then the next guy down the road could unconvince you.  I’d rather tell you that I went straight to God, in my limited understanding, with all my fear and preconceived notions,  and entered into a new conversation.

My invitation for anyone who is questioning or curious, or ticked off or scared is to do the same - the One who made you is the One who knows how to speak to where you’re hiding out in the crevices of your heart anyway so, why not start there?  If there’s something to prove, He can prove it to you. If there’s something to show, He can show it to you.

When I was walking through it, it terrified me.  When I look back on it, I smile - because there was a peace that came to me that I had never known before.

So whether it’s Jesus or a rule you have of reading the bible every day or a misbelief you have that there’s a ‘right’ way to do spirituality –It’s not the end of the world to let go of the rabbit’s foot of your faith, it’s just the end of the world as you know it.  And, since we’re both being really to the core honest right now — that might not be such a bad thing…