Whether that is worrying or reassuring depends on where you are standing and who’s head you are in.
I’m unbalanced because I think using a human brain, usually my own.
I’m unbalanced because it is impossible to grasp the whole of life and bottle it within the synapses, impulses and emotions of a human brain.
I’m unbalanced because it is impossible to grasp the whole of life and try to speak it using the unreliable and inadequate method of human speech.
I’m unbalanced because it is impossible to understand what Jesus was all about and do it justice in a few sentences, words, or a human lifetime.
So, I choose the bits I overemphasise.
Jesus’ smile, more than his frown.
Jesus’ welcome, rather than his rebuke.
Jesus life, death and resurrection, rather than one or the other.
(Or more likely for many evangelicals, just the middle one.)
Like many evangelicals, the ascension confuses me, so I tend to overlook it.
I’m unbalanced, but would rather be unbalanced and tipping towards those than unbalanced and tipping towards the tight-lipped, overly serious and always right.
There’s something worrying about people who are 100% certain.
Something worrying about people whose thinking has no flexibility, no space for being wrong, no acknowledgement that we are all unbalanced.
I try to hold my crazy beliefs lightly, and seriously.
And irreverently, so I don’t disappear up my bum and out my own navel.
I’m unbalanced because I think the quest for wisdom begins in acknowledging that.
I‘m unbalanced because I don’t think there is another way to be.
I could, of course, be wrong. I find that quite exciting.