I've found myself thinking about the oddities of my faith a lot this week. It is incredibly messy, and I really like that about myself.
Last week, a friend posted a blog asking how Christians can view God as "good" in light of the Hebrew Scriptures. Is a God who assists people in eradicating entire cities, who flooded the world really good? I had to admit that such passages give me pause. That I wonder if such historical stories tell us more about the people's perception of God than the reality of God. That the story and hope I gain is that throughout the Hebrew Scripture is a woven tale of God loving God's people; of God going to amazing lengths to display that love. Strangely enough, the response from my post-Christian friend was that if he returned to Christianity, it would be my brand. And here I just thought I was confused.
On Sunday, instead of watching the Super Bowl, I went on a walk (you can read the tale of that experience on my running blog at silverlinedjenn.blogspot.com). Since my buddy Chad has been bugging me about the downloadable lectures at Veritas ("Denfolls, go to Veritas NOWS" -- this may or may not be the place to note that Chad and I most often write to each other in the phonetic rendition of five year olds missing their front teeth. Which can be interesting when we are discussing issues of depth), I downloaded a few lectures of some folks I dig and transferred them to my seldom-used mp3 player.
As I walked, I listened to Madeleine L'Engle discuss fantasy and faith. She discussed the idea that truth is often somewhere beyond facts. That faith is best addressed in fantasy instead of theology, because it is something beyond the realm of mere facts.
"A Wrinkle in Time" was one of my favorite books when I was a kid. To this day, whenever I wish I could get somewhere faster or miss a friend who is far away, I wish for the ability to wrinkle in time. And I hope my recollection of that part of the book is accurate enough for that sentiment to mean something. I desperately need to reread that series!
Madeleine is another messy faith sort of person. And dreadfully honest -- I love it. After the lecture, she was asked by an atheist about the "fantasy of God." "That fantasy has always seemed too simple," he said. Ah, but it is the most difficult fantasy in the world, Madeleine responded. And I find myself agreeing. I don't find faith easy. Perhaps it is my questioning, cynical nature, but I struggle regularly to believe. Madeleine said "If I believe in God wholly and completely for two minutes every 7 or 8 weeks, I'm doing well... it is life-threateningly difficult, but it matters."
I've begun following the blog of Nadia Bolz-Weber, a rather unlikely ordained minister in the Lutheran church. My buddy (and pastor) Jeanie introduced me to her by sending a sermon Nadia preached recently on the confession of Peter. In it she states: "I often have people say to me 'I can’t say the apostles creed because I’m not sure I believe all of it' Well, do I believe every line of the Apostles creed when I say it? Sometimes yes, but sometimes no. But here’s the thing. In a congregation….for each line of the creed there is probably someone there who believes it. So we are covered. Because it’s not my creed. It’s the church’s creed and I, thank Jesus, am a very small part of the church. When we confess our faith, the Body of Christ carries the faith for one another. As a body. On each other’s behalf. God creates faith in community where we daily convert each other to Christianity."
Since I'm pulling from all this great women of faith, I should pull in my friend Robin, who first introduced me to the idea of the church community carrying faith for us. I think it is a lovely thought. I mentioned on my running blog that my training partner and I need each other to believe in each other's running abilities -- Tiffany (another great woman of faith) believes that we can be faster, while I urged us to become marathoners, believing we could handle the distance. If such interdependence is necessary in something as inconsequential as running, how much more so is it true in faith?
While the Baptist church doesn't tend to recite creeds in the manner of our mainline friends, each song we sing and Scripture we read is a creed of sorts. And through that collective action, we believe together, for each other. You taking these two minutes, and maybe me finding the strength to carry the next.
And to tie up and sum up what is impossible to tie or sum, it is in that deep mystery -- that fantasy -- that I find a God who is good. A God beyond my comprehension or ability to believe -- but a God who makes all the work of faith worth it.
Memorial Day thoughts
9 hours ago
Quite interesting. One of the biggest reasons I left Christianity (and have not come back) is because the concept of faith doesn't really make sense to me. I have always had a rational mind, and simply "having faith" wasn't enough for me. This also had something to do with the fact that whenever I questioned everyone always told me to "have faith." But I know that even those people, though they tell me to have faith, have their own times when their faith falters. Can they so easily say that all you need is just "have faith" when even they lose faith?
ReplyDeleteYou raise an interesting concept, the idea of interdependence in faith. Faith has always seemed to be conveyed as a personal thing. While on the one hand I suppose this is right because each of us has our own particular belief systems (and each has our own relationship with God, if you will), it puts a lot of pressure on people to constantly put on a show. I always have to appear as though I have faith - even if I don't - because that is what I am supposed to do. But it isn't always so easy. Having others there to carry the torch for us at those times can really be helpful. Saying, "I can't have faith at the moment" is okay. There can be so much relief in saying that one simple thing, and knowing it is acceptable. Once you no longer have to keep putting up the faith front at all times, you can relax and enjoy life.
Interesting.
Tis I, Chaddy. :)
ReplyDeleteIn reading way too much C.S. Lewis of late, when you write about the goodness of God in relation to seemingly contradictory events in scripture, the first thing I think is: We know the story as we have read it, and the people who lived out these stories knew what they knew from firsthand accounts, but there is also God's side of the story. I know in C.S. Lewis' sci-fi trilogy, there is a sense that even though God has explained Himself in the Bible and the person of Christ, I wonder (as did Lewis, apparently) whether we can ever really be able to understand the mind of God, His motives, His actions, etc. because of our own limited perspective. Yes, we were made in His image, but we live in finite bodies and our understanding of things is often very limited. So when it comes to God, His goodness may be understood in starker clarity when we meet Him. Looking through a glass darkly may mean that we do not even see goodness as clearly as we would like, and we may just not see the whole picture. We certainly cannot claim to have the mind of God even though Paul says we have "the mind of Christ." We have only been on this spinning orb a short while, and our take on things is probably somewhat limited as a result. Good stuff, Furry. :)