It has been about two months since I first started my ministry outreach project for Marsh Chapel, the Thurman Group and I must say that I am fairy pleased with how it is going, at least for the most part. A regular group has started to emerge, people feel more comfortable expressing themselves to each other, people feel more comfortable inviting friends, and with each passing week I can feel that we collectively and individually are growing more in love with the sound of the genuine.
But as we move more deeply into the works of Thurman I have to pause and acknowledge that searching for the sound of the genuine is fraught with dangerous uncertainty. Thurman’s meditations beg that the individual asks what is authentic , in the self and in the world. For one who claims the intellect as his or her ground of exploration it can lead to radical doubt of the flavor of Descartes or the dangerous egotism of Mr. Robespierre. For those who find there home more in the realm of the ethereal Thurman’s approach can leave one weaponless in a struggle against the demons that lurk just below the surface of the constructed personality.
At the outset of this project I feared that I would have to confront such an issue at some point, coming into contact with Thurman in the last year lead me to my own set of existential crisis, actively questioning the foundations of not only my Christian faith but also of my very self. The question of authenticity is not a light one, and when an individual finally starts to confront it one must also acknowledge that life is a serious undertaking, to paraphrase Thurman.
Such a realization, is beginning to dawn over various members of our newly found community. Both within the context of the group and outside of the group I find members wrestling with existence of God and the meaning of life which was the intent of this community but I must also be aware that such exploration comes with real consequences. A 2am call from a friend who has lost their reverence for life, a midnight conversation with a Catholic who realizes God has never been real to them, an afternoon stroll with a friend who can no longer see the virtue in morality.
Now, I am not claiming that this group or Thurman’s words alone are responsible for a radical overnight transformation of model citizens, but I can clearly see the impact that this exploration is having on those who convene every Friday evening in the basement of Marsh Chapel to explore the unknown. Much like life, the more time passes, the more I realize that what we are doing is a serious undertaking.