I was the last one standing in the Abrahamic Family House Church. The group had left. The security guards were at the exit. I remained, silent and still. I realised I see my faith, and other’s faith, as a decision. We choose. Others try to influence. Some use guilt as a weapon. Fear, uncertainty, and pressure are used, even to the point of taking life away from those not choosing to make the “right” decision. Ultimately, it remains a choice to be made by each her or himself.
I am fiercely independent. I rebel again imposed authority. The stubbornness my mother experienced when I was three has not changed much. I want the accountability and responsibility that comes with the freedom to choose.
As I slowly moved towards the exit, I came to the bowl of water, the holy stoup. The moment of choice is metaphorically presented to each when s/he enters, and leaves, unmovable and silent. The decision was, without coercion or pressure, all with me.
My actions reveal my heart’s decision in every moment. Paul’s question never quite leaves me; “So what do we do? Keep on sinning so God can keep on forgiving?” (Romans 6.1) Do I focus on myself, my needs, and my wants? Do I turn towards community and reach for compassion and kindness? If I do not focus on myself, who will? If I turn to Divinity, will I discover Divinity’s prepared restoration and creation within?
Decisions become real with movement and consequences. Yes, my mind leads the process. However, without engagement from my hands, feet, voice, and more, the decision is not fully realised. With the basin, it required the act of lifting the cover and connecting with the holy water. The three-step process of stepping into Divinity brought a realization that Divinity had already stepped with me.
We are active in our imaginations. I thought I was taking a picture of the welcoming place of water within the church only to discover later I was there. Involved, taking a step to embrace the Divine and finding myself embraced.
