Confusion

Personally, I'm a fan of confusion. All the best things are confusing.

I went to St. John's college in Annapolis. That tiny old school is a really wonderful place. There I learned to treat ideas as friends. Sometimes, comfortable but not always. Sometimes you want to chat about nothing over a hot cup of tea. Sometimes you want to delve deep into yourself. Expose things you didn't know were there. Be vulnerable and cry. Sometimes you want to enjoy a lively disagreement- but that's only fun if you can indulge in the possibility of wrongness, otherwise you'll never understand this other view. Ideas change and grow. They challenge you and strengthen you. They comfort you. Ideas can be wonderful friends.

There are writers who articulate what you've been thinking. That's useful. There are writers who make you feel good about the things you already think. That's comfortable. There are writers who are wrong about everything. That's... That's just true.

There are writers who make you struggle. Work. Wrestle. These writers are the best.

There's this popular accusation going around: Pope Francis is confusing.

It took me a little while to realize it was an accusation. It is, after all, completely and utterly true. Pope Francis is confusing. That's one of the best things about him.

Maybe I'm not as smart as everyone else in the world, but I'm just going to put it out there: every Pope I've ever read or listened to has confused me. No exceptions. That isn't as impressive as it would be coming from some scholars. I cannot name, nevermind quote, lists of popes. Only a few. But among these few, the pattern is clear and universal. Popes confuse me.

Maybe that's a me thing. Maybe my tendency to overthink coupled with subject under-education is why I'm confused. But I don't think so. I think it's a good theology thing. Good theology is true. Forcefully true. Good theology is also nuanced. There's a lot of truth in nuance. Stamping it out makes it easier, but also boring and very possibly misleading.

God, who is all-powerful, loves you and wants you to go to Heaven. True! Nuance free, it can easily be taken to mean that you cannot go to Hell which is a very dangerous lie. This is good theology, though. Where is the confusing bit? Where is the conflicting truth which tempers this one? Ah. Free will. God, who does love you and want you in Heaven could just put you in Heaven. He could have created perfect little people who can't do wrong. People who can't choose other than him. In other words, paper dolls. He didn't. He gave us the ability to love, which comes with the ability to choose not to. He gave us the ability to discern truth, which comes with the ability to choose laziness. He gave us the ability to have a relationship with him. A real relationship. That comes with the ability to choose not to engage in that relationship. He won't force us.

There are millions of words over hundreds of years covering this one question. The truths we accept conflict with one another. We have to figure out how to make them hold hands and walk together. Nuance. Confusion. The most exciting truths are found where seemingly contradictory truths meet and find peace.

It's not terribly hard to avoid these potential landmines. Confusion can blow up in your face and set you back. We can try to avoid it. If we're successful, though, we'll avoid all the best stuff too. 

Pick a side: God's might and love or free will. Or choose both, but together they come in a package with confusion.