I have come to embrace my nothingness. Well, at least I am working toward that goal. I am not referring to the same nothingness that some philosophers equate with meaninglessness. It is quite the opposite.
Jesus described the nothingness I am referring to as entering a new and very meaningful paradigm. He said, “To enter this new paradigm, you must be turned inside-out.” “To become the greatest, you must become the least.” “To live, you must die.” “To be right, you must admit to being wrong and ignorant.” (SFA paraphrases)
To be reborn is to shed all the entrapments of this current existence. It is to let go of our pride, our dogmatism, our need to be right, our defensiveness, our aggression, our flesh. All of these are incompatible with nothingness. Nothingness is to give up ownership of everything, including our own soul. In this light, Jesus’ upside-down, inside-out concepts make sense. As we become less here and now, we become more in a much more important domain: God’s domain.
This nothingness also has tremendous benefits here and now. When I am successful at embracing it, I lose the need to be defensive. I do not have to prove anything. I do not have to know everything. I can let go of my pride. It is a place of incredible freedom and peace.
Richard Rohr, in his book Simplicity: The Freedom of Letting Go, has been very helpful in this journey. He outlines nothingness painfully, but beautifully.
“The words of the Gospel never allow us to live in self-satisfaction. Rather they always make us empty. They always make us repeat the truth of Mary’s “Let it be done to me according to your word.” They allow us to keep our wounds open so we can receive Christ in us. It seems we’re quite incapable of welcoming Christ because we’re so stuffed full or ourselves. The real thing we have to let go of is our self. We aren’t really free until we’re free from ourselves.”
The goal to embrace nothingness is easily thwarted. Pride rears its ugly head in a heartbeat. Two evenings ago, on my homeward commute, I was tired and not focusing well. While glancing down at my phone, I did not notice the cars in front of me had stopped. I slammed on the brakes too late. It was the first time in my life that I came face to face with an airbag. After a few seconds of disorienting fog, all I could think was, “What am I going to tell people?” Such a response is anti-nothingness. It is pride at its best. It bound me up and my freedom went out the window with the airbag exhaust.
I closed my eyes and said, “I am nothing; it’s not about me,” and got out of the car to check on the others involved. Fortunately, no one was hurt.
My pride was deeply wounded. However, according to the nothingness of Jesus, it was a good thing.
– Sam Augsburger
