Wholeness
What's the most peaceful place you've ever been?
My dad's family built a small, rustic, log cabin fifty years ago that I've been going to since I was a child. I usually roll down my window as I drive up, the pine and dust stirring decades of memories. There's no cell phone service. No internet. No interruptions. I feel safe. At rest. Present. In a way that is often elusive when life is running at its usual pace.
What about you? What are you picturing right now? A particular sunset? In the presence of a certain person? Driving with the windows down across open country? Your bed with sheets pulled over your head?
What we’re feeling when we think about these things – what we feel in our bodies, and long for – is actually what we were made for. Peace. Safety. Security. Value. Meaning.
In ancient Hebrew, the word for this is shalom (שָׁלוֹם | šā·lôm). However, more than the English word "peace," shalom has a connotation of well-being. Everything and everyone – plants, animals, humans, ecosystems, relationships, cities, governments – safe, in their right places, fulfilling their purposes… flourishing.
I call this, “Wholeness.”
Wholeness is the closest English word I could think of to shalom. And that's where the story begins: shalom.
Wholeness. God's intent for all of life.
I know “God” is a loaded concept for a lot of people. But stay with me. You don’t have to believe in God to try on these ideas. Would you consider yourself open-minded? If so, just be open to the possibility that "God" might actually make the most sense of all this?
The Christian Story, like all stories, begins with an origin story. A beginning. A “why.”
Now, we need to be careful when we read this origin story - it's not a 21st century science textbook and it's not overly concerned with the chemistry or physics of it all. It’s not so much a “what” and “how” story, but a “why” and “who” story. Who is behind all of this? Why are we here? Why are things the way they are?
Unlike other ancient creation myths—full of violence, chaos, and competing gods—this story is strikingly different. It speaks of one God who simply speaks, and things come into being. Light. Land. Oceans. Trees. Birds. People.
After each thing is made, God describes it as “good,” and when everything is completed he says: It is very good. Whole.
This includes human beings, who are made to be like God. To create. To cultivate. To steward. To bless. And to possess innate value and worth.
If you’re skeptical of origin stories, that’s fair. But we all operate with some sense of a story that explains how things came to be the way they are - even if it’s a story of random chance.
Wholeness isn't the whole story. Sometimes good people do suffer, and terrible people win. Natural disasters, diseases, and wars appear senseless. More on this later. But love doesn’t feel random. Neither does art. Justice. Beauty. Kindness. The value of human life
And I don't feel random. Even if I don't always feel it, I live as though my life has purpose.
Why is this so? Why do we live as if life has meaning and purpose, even if we can’t explain exactly why?
Deep down, we sense these things to be true. Even if it seems too good to be true, we want it to be true.
Do you know that feeling? Do you long for it? What if we long for this feeling because we were actually made for it?
The Wholeness Story makes sense of the good parts of life. But, there’s a whole lot of life that is not good.
What’s that about?