COM M E N T WITH EYES WIDE OPEN JIM DEEDS
GIFT OF CONFUSION
THERE IS SOMETHING ATTRACTIVE ABOUT CERTAINTY, YET IT IS CURIOSITY THAT KEEPS US SEARCHING AND GROWING.
When
I was a young man, I worked in the pub at the top of my street. Each evening I stood behind the bar, served pints of beer and glasses of wine, and listened to the conversations people would have. One evening, I was earwigging (a great old Belfast term for eavesdropping) on the conversation between a young man and an old man about how chaotic the world was. The old man, in an effort to find some certainty, told the young man, “Wherever you go there's two things you can be certain to find – a bottle of coke and an Irish person!" There's something attractive about certainty. Most people seek it out in some way or other. We like to know things. We like to be sure of things. I guess it gives us a sense of security in a world that often feels anything but secure. One thing about certainty, though, is that it can feel like the end of a road. In this way, certainty, or our perception of having it, represents the end of something and closes us down. I say 'our perception' of having certainty, because often times what we hold as certain, really isn't. This happens, for example, when people are labelled as being one way or another. So, one 'certainty' could be that all people of a certain religious persuasion are evil. Another could be that all people who vote in a certain way are crooked or racist or immoral. When we step back and think
rationally, we see that this is just not the case. Life is much more complex than that. So, the things we often hold as certainties, may well not be certain. Certainty can become a terrible addiction, though. It can become like a drug that anaesthetises us against the need to acknowledge the fact that there is so little of it about! One polar opposite of certainty is confusion. Mostly, we don't like confusion. It muddies the water. It's uncomfortable; distressing even. And yet confusion keeps us searching. Confusion keeps us open to being curious. And curiosity is the key to growth. Rather than spelling away whole groups of people or opinions we don't agree with or understand, embracing our confusion can allow us to be curious about what is going on. We can be drawn to find out more. Allowing ourselves to feel confused acknowledges that 'I' am not the font of all knowledge. It says that 'I' need
growth and more work and more insight in order to understand 'us'. In this way, confusion is the gift of growth. It's nothing to be afraid of. It is to be welcomed as a friend. It is to be our guide to find ways to reach out to other people to find out more. All this is not to say that there are no certainties at all. It is not to say that there is no truth. It is not to say that there is no right or wrong. It is simply to say that we could be aware of those things that present as certainties and remain curious about them. I'm always drawn to the first words in the Bible where we read of our creation story. In Genesis chapter 1 we read that before God brought light (certainty) to the world there was a formless void (confusion). It was the love of God's spirit hovering over the chaos that brought the light. Confusion + God = Certainty. I like that! It does not deny our confusion. It does not seek to correct it. It seeks to welcome God into our
confusion and to bring light to it. As we travel through this month of November, we remember our dead. Dying and the loss of a loved one can call our certainties into question – indeed we can question the whole meaning of our existence. We can be confused about God and what God is at allowing our loved one to be taken from us. This month is a perfect time to remember the equation above: Confusion + God = Certainty When we welcome God into our confusion, sorrow and grief, we will find that God wants to console us and wants us to hold on to the certainty of God’s love for us, living or dead. God wants us to know, for certain, that death is not the end; rather a door we must go through in order to dwell evermore in God’s loving embrace. If I could go back in time to that bar where I worked when I was a young person, I'd give that old man a different version of his sentence: "Wherever you go there's three things you can be certain to find - a bottle of coke, an Irish person and the Holy Spirit hovering over our chaos."
Belfast man Jim Deeds is a poet, author, pastoral worker and retreat-giver working across Ireland.
19
