Spiritual Autobiography (2010)

Frederick Buechner says that “at its heart most theology, like most fiction, is essentially autobiography. Aquinas, Calvin, Barth, Tillich, working out their systems in their own ways and in their own language, are all telling us the stories of their lives, and if you press them far enough…you find an experience of flesh and blood, a human face smiling or frowning or weeping or covering its eyes before something that happened once.”

This reading is one a few meant to introduce my class of Masters of Divinity students to our first experience together. The assignment is to share, out loud, in writing (and photos and music and art) a chapter of our spiritual autobiography. The flesh and blood and tearful experiences that are the birthing waters of our theologies.

And I’m a little bit speechless. I can feel the tide receding, all those words on the tip of my tongue and just a little bit out of reach. And that’s okay. The tide will return, and with it the waves will soften my jagged, un-matched thoughts.

But here’s what I have right now: a prayer I wrote a few years ago, and I returned to it last night in an effort to choose “a chapter” to share with my class. I prayed this prayer nearly everyday (and multiple times, too) of my junior year of college, and perhaps after a year of saying it out loud some of it stuck. Saying this prayer did not make me the image of grace by any means, but it kept me hoping. Maybe it will help you, too, on a day of jagged edges.

I know that you are a master of taking the broken and making it whole.I trust that when my world, my heart, and my will are broken you will heal me and make my life something beautiful to bless your world.
Help me add to the beauty of your grace. Amen.