A Journey Through Order, Disorder, and Reorder
The Tears of Things
Let us begin by reflecting on the natural cycle of human development, which is often mirrored in the journeys of the prophets. Spiritual growth does not follow a straight line; rather, it moves in cycles of order, disorder, and reorder. This progression is essential for our development, for it allows us to confront and transcend the limitations of our initial understanding. "Without this self-correcting path, we all become Narcissus, falling in love with our own image in the water." [1] We see this in the lives of the prophets—Jeremiah, for example, starts in a place of order, with a deep conviction of his calling, but then finds himself caught in the disorder of rejection and resentment (Jeremiah 1:4-10). It is only through this disorder that he arrives at a deeper, reordered understanding of faith and freedom (Jeremiah 29:10-14). This cycle is not something to be feared or avoided; it is a necessary part of our spiritual journey. We must learn to trust that disorder is not the end, but rather the gateway to transformation. Just as we see this in the prophets, we, too, must embrace this natural flow of grace, which moves through our individual lives and institutions. It’s only through experiencing disorder that we can reach a more authentic, mature place of reorder (Romans 8:28).
There’s a danger, however, in holding onto immaturity in our faith. Many people get stuck at an early stage of spiritual development, often misunderstanding and misapplying the truths they first encounter. We’ve all seen this in religious communities, where literal interpretations of sacred texts dominate, leaving little room for growth (1 Corinthians 3:1-3). "What we learn early in life, with the mind of a four- to six-year-old, is just to get us started." [1] We all need that simple foundation to begin, but it’s crucial that we evolve beyond it. The stories in sacred texts are not merely historical events to be understood in a childlike way; they are meant to offer deeper, spiritual insights that speak to the complexities of the human condition. If we continue to cling to a childish faith, we risk missing the transformative power of these ancient teachings. This is why we must ask ourselves if we are stuck in a stage of immaturity, holding onto formulas and interpretations that no longer serve us (Hebrews 5:12-14). Spiritual maturity demands that we engage with our faith in a way that honors the complexity of life and invites a deeper, more nuanced understanding.
The call to engage with faith in a mature way is further exemplified in how we approach the prophets. "Unless we learn how to study the prophets as a rite of passage into adult religion, I do not think their writings and insights will be of much use." [1] The prophets challenge us to go beyond the surface and embrace a deeper spirituality that is not afraid to wrestle with the difficulties of life (Isaiah 55:8-9). Their teachings are not simply moral lessons or stories of divine intervention; they are invitations to face the complexities of human existence. To study the prophets is to understand that spirituality is not about sentimental, childlike understandings, but about learning how to live authentically in the face of suffering, injustice, and confusion. This is a spirituality that calls us to grow into adulthood, one that encourages us to confront the world as it truly is, with all its messiness and difficulty (Ezekiel 3:4-9). It’s not enough to have simple answers; we must be willing to sit with the questions, the doubts, and the ambiguities that come with a mature spiritual life (Proverbs 3:5-6).
At the heart of this journey is authenticity, and true spirituality shows itself not in outward displays of piety, but in the fruits of the Spirit that we bear. "By their fruits you will know them." [1] These fruits—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control—are the markers of a genuine connection with the Divine (Matthew 7:16-20, Galatians 5:22-23). If these virtues are absent, then whatever we claim to be practicing is likely just an illusion. Authenticity in spirituality is measured by how we live, not just by what we say or believe. The fruits of the Spirit are not optional; they are the natural expression of a life lived in alignment with God’s will (John 15:5). These fruits show up in our relationships, our actions, and our responses to the world. They serve as both a guide and a challenge: Are we truly living out the deeper teachings of our faith? Are we showing up in the world with the love, patience, and self-control that our spirituality calls for?
One of the most transformative aspects of the spiritual journey is how we engage with our emotions, especially those that bring us to a place of mourning and grief. "Tears encourage us to move forward not by shame or guilt, but by sadness and empathy." [1] Many people try to avoid sadness, seeing it as a weakness or something to be feared, but the truth is that grief can be a powerful vehicle for spiritual growth (Psalm 34:18, 2 Corinthians 7:10). When we allow ourselves to mourn, we open the door to deeper empathy and connection, both with ourselves and with others (Romans 12:15). It’s through our tears that we often find the deepest insights and healing. The prophets understood this, and Jesus himself taught that those who mourn are blessed because they are able to connect with the suffering of the world and, through that, open themselves to the possibility of transformation (Matthew 5:4). In this sense, mourning is not a sign of defeat, but of strength—the strength to face the truth of our human condition and to allow it to lead us to a more compassionate, open-hearted way of living.
Finally, the worldview of the prophets is one that does not shy away from the tragedy of the human condition. "The tragedy is in this world, not the next." [1] The prophets acknowledge the deep pain and suffering that exist in our world, yet they also affirm that this reality does not define us (Isaiah 53:3-5, Lamentations 3:22-23). They offer a profound optimism in the face of tragedy, believing that transformation is always possible (Ezekiel 37:1-14). "What sounds like cynicism and despair about our tragic human reality ends up being utter optimism and satisfaction about history in general and the soul in particular." [1] The prophets teach us that, while we must acknowledge the darkness in our world, we must also trust in the possibility of healing and growth. This is a hopeful perspective—a belief that even in the midst of tragedy, there is always the potential for redemption, both for individuals and for the world as a whole (Revelation 21:4). It’s a worldview that encourages us to face suffering without being consumed by it, knowing that the soul’s capacity for healing and renewal is boundless (Romans 8:18-21).
[1] Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things