Leaning Into Mystery, Letting Go of Control
Letter from Bond Warner Strong
Photo by Ngelah
Dear friends,
I have a very vivid memory of visiting a particular church when I was a little girl. My family faithfully attended a United Methodist Church, but for reasons I can’t remember my dad took me to a different church that night. Maybe he went to hear a friend speak or sing, but that detail has faded, along with the name of the church.
As I sat in the pew, as close to Daddy as I could get, business went about as usual with singing, praying, and scripture reading. However, as soon as the preacher began delivering his message, I knew this was not like my comfortable, traditional Methodist church. In my four-year-old mind, I couldn’t understand why this preacher seemed so angry, so insistent. He was sweating and yelling, and everything he said seemed to have a threatening tone. He said words like “damnation” and although I didn’t understand what that meant, I knew I didn’t want to experience it. I became afraid and I began to cry. I begged Daddy to take me outside. Thankfully, he took my emotions seriously and he picked me up and carried me out the door.
I don’t know if the experience at that church was the origin of my religious obsessive-compulsive issues, but it has always stood out in my mind as a piece of the puzzle. I think I was born naturally inclined to seek control, and so a mixture of fear and a desire for control propelled my faith forward as I grew up. After college, I would find out after consistent therapy that I struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder tendencies that manifest mostly in my compulsive behavior towards religion.
In high school, a desire to rebel and experiment, coupled with a fear of hell, led me to spread my adolescent wings by sampling different churches. I thought if I could just find the right church with the right theology and practices, I wouldn’t need to feel so scared anymore. In other words, I would have control over my eternal destiny because I knew I had all the right answers. I resolved to just make sure I covered all the bases that could exist in my soul. I silently said every Sinner’s Prayer at the Baptist churches during the altar calls and raised my hands to the praise and worship music in the Pentecostal churches. On Sunday mornings, I took communion at the Methodist church with my parents.
In college, my fragile, fear-based faith began to falter. Faced with all the existential questions that come along with that period in life, my faith traditions just weren’t helping me sort through it all. After a panic attack in the middle of a church service during the spring of my freshman year, I quit attending for a while.
Handwritten quote from the writer
Then, one morning I sat through a lecture about the Reformation in one of my history classes. The instructor spoke very highly of the Catholic Church (he was Catholic), and the subject matter intrigued me. I had never given Catholicism much thought until that moment. Curious, I spoke with him after class. We had a very interesting discussion that inspired me to learn more. He directed me to the campus minister and I began meeting with him weekly to learn about Catholicism. Unsurprisingly, I felt drawn to this church with so much information. Apart from the Bible, there was the Catechism, endless books from saints and theologians, two thousand years of history, and tradition. If there was ever going to be a church with all the answers and a clear path to heaven, I thought, this was it.
I entered the Church with my husband of five months in November 2015. My honeymoon with the Church lasted quite awhile. I felt wooed by the liturgy, the incense, the artwork, the poetry. However, I couldn’t hide my controlling tendencies and fear behind the glitter of the Catholic Church forever. As I settled into the Church, I became increasingly aware of how diverse the Church is. I had discovered certain theological answers that I desired, but now I was faced with the actual people and socially contrived factions within the Church.
The certainty I had embraced as a new Catholic began to fade and I realized that being Catholic does not mean that you are immune to degrees of uncertainty. When I felt myself begin to despair again, the thought occurred to me for the first time that maybe certainty was the wrong goal for my faith life.
Although I had embraced the Sacraments as a new Catholic, the mysteriousness of them frustrated me. I couldn't figure out exactly how they worked, which caused my relationship with them to be complicated at first. I wavered back and forth between doubt about their legitimacy and comfort in the fact that they were not dependent on my understanding. After my revelation about certainty, I began to realize what a gift it is to not fully understand how they work and to accept, in faith, the grace they offer. It is what shows that I am human while God is divine. It is what draws me as a trusting daughter into His arms. It allows my searching, weary mind to rest. And with the Church as my guide on my earthly journey, the mystery of the sacraments allows me to surrender my desire for authority and certainty and move towards what (or rather who) I need most, Jesus. And that’s where I am still.
I am continually letting go of certainty and control. I am learning new, less formulaic ways of praying like contemplative prayer. When I feel my obsessive nature start to take over my sense of peace, I ground myself in the healing promises of the Sacraments. I am focusing on the bread and wine, yet miraculously also body and blood, offered to nourish me spiritually and physically. I’m leaning into the miraculous absolution of my sins as I sit behind a screen. I am remembering the invisible grace offered by my baptismal waters and resting in their assurance. I am choosing to act as though I believe the Spirit I received is alive and well within. Letting go of the desire for certainty and control, has led to a more trusting relationship with my Creator. In embracing mystery and my limits as a human, I found Jesus, who is love. And as we know, perfect love casts out fear. I hope you find Him too.
Wishing you peace,
Bond Warner Strong
About the Writer: Bond lives in the mountains of southwest Virginia with her husband, Reece, and two sons, Willis and Harmon. She loves the mountains, but also has a chronic case of wanderlust. She is an aspiring writer and avid reader inspired by Jo March, and a homemaker influenced by Molly Weasley. She is passionate about local food and nature, and she cares deeply about peace and justice thanks to Dorothy Day. Most of all, she is a lover of Christ inspired by her mother, Our Lady. She loves nothing more than good friends gathered around her table sharing tacos, margaritas, and lively conversation.
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For Your Reflection:
Pray about it: Spend some time reflecting on areas in your life where you are struggling to give up control. Learn to lean into the Lord, and trust in Him. Pray, “Jesus I trust in You”.
Write about it: How has your relationship with the Sacraments grown as you dwell on their “mystery”? Has the importance and meaning of the Sacraments, especially attending Mass and receiving the Eucharist, changed in recent months?
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