The Art of Teshuva: When Will You Return?
by Matthew Nash
THE ART OF TESHUVA: WHEN WILL YOU RETURN?
In 1994, the small African country of Rwanda experienced the most horrific 100 days a nation has ever had to bear—more than one million people were murdered in one of the most devastating genocides in history. When my family and I moved there in 2010 to teach at an international school, we visited the Rwanda Genocide Memorial. It was a heavy way to start our new life. Among the stories from survivors and aid volunteers were these words from Damas Gisimba, the director of an orphanage in Kigali when the genocide began:
“We were no longer scared of dying. We lived with death; it surrounded us. Death walked among us. And so, I was no longer afraid. I could not be scared in front of the children. I could not panic, because if I panicked, I couldn’t have done anything to help those who had fled to me.”
We spent four years living in Rwanda. The people we met, worked with, and lived next to became family to us, and it was painful to leave. Rwanda has been transformed, though, because of the power of forgiveness and reconciliation. Every year there are gatherings during the week the genocide began for those that were responsible to spend time with those that survived so they can tell stories and reclaim some of their humanity.
This is what restoration looks like.
I attended one of these gatherings way out in a village our third year there, and I saw an older woman stand with a man half her age, telling the crowd that she had forgiven him for killing her husband and all her children. Everyone in attendance wept.
This is what restoration looks like.
“God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear” (1 John 4:17-18).
In our current world, there is much we could fear. Especially in the last several years surrounded by a global pandemic, systemic racism and tension, and political toxicity. These places are all seedbeds for fear. We cannot keep watering those seedbeds. They must be upended with well-formed love.
In the Hebrew traditions of the Ancient Near East, there is a word that is used by the writers and prophets to call people back to this well-formed love. It is the word teshuva. It literally means, “to return.” It was a way of calling people back to the life that God had created for them—a life of thriving and flourishing in his love; a life of compassion for people that were different from them; a life of care for the poor and the oppressed, the fatherless and the widow.
So many times, I find myself in the shadows, not living into the life that God has invited me into. I get in my own way, get in my own head. I let the critics and the naysayers win. I play back the tapes in my head of my own imposter syndrome saying, “You aren’t good enough to do this work of caring for leaders.” I let my ego and hubris for always being right and always having everything together to get in the way of me returning to this love. I give in to the fears all around me and not the still small voice of the Divine Creator who made me.
One question that I am sitting with this month is “When will you return?”
When will you and I return and soak ourselves in the love of God that has already done enough for us to be fully human. Parker Palmer, a writer that has meant so much to my journey in the last several years, puts it this way:
“Only the supple heart can hold suffering in a way that opens to new life.”
I want my heart to be supple so it can open to new life all around me. I want that for you as well.
The key to living a life of restoration is practicing restoration every day. Whether it is doing a guided spiritual meditation that centers you on God’s love, taking a walk out in nature to surround yourself with the beauty of this world, or perhaps setting a long table full of delicious food to enjoy with good friends or family.
What does restoration look like for you?
What does new life look like for you?
Maybe these are questions to sit with for a while; spend some time journaling about what bubbles to the surface of your soul. While you are doing this, I want you to know a few things:
You are wildly loved by God.
There is not a scarcity of love in the world, there is an abundance of it all around.
Today, Rwanda looks very different than it did in 1994. People that once had animosity and fear toward one another have come together in reconciliation. A new generation of Rwandan men and women are learning to forgive the pain of the past without forgetting. They have turned their pain into purpose. New life is bursting from the ashes of fear.
May new life burst in your life today, and may you be well-formed by love.
Grace and Peace,
Matthew Nash