I have a headache, the kind you get from thinking too much. The past few days I’ve been battling doubt about my faith in God. I guess I’ve been dealing with it for a while now. I’ve just been able to push it to the back of my mind and pretend it isn’t there, until now. I’m afraid to admit it to myself, let alone anyone else. I guess the general consensus is that people who struggle with doubt have a weak faith, and therefore cannot possibly have a strong relationship with God (and with my group of people, this means everything). It makes sense too. A most basic principle in building relationships is an acknowledgment that there is someone there to have a relationship with. If I’m not even fully convinced that there is a God, how could I possibly have any semblance of a relationship with Him?
This is new for me. I can honestly say I’ve never doubted my faith in God, or should I say my faith in a God. Now I may have doubted some aspects of Christianity, whether or not this God actually loved me or cared about me, but I’ve always had an intrinsic knowing that there is at least a God. This is a different doubt, one that scares me far more than any in the past.
For so long I’ve had an intellectual understanding of what I believe, or what I think I believe (is that an oxymoron?). I have a very clear perception of truth within my framework of faith. Now that same intellect is causing me to question the very foundation that framework is built upon. Does God even exist?
I guess my biggest hang-up is this: could everything that I have experienced so far in my faith walk, from the simple experiences of fellowship to the more complex issues of operating under the influence of the Spirit of God, all be fabrications of the human mind? And have we corporately constructed a communal explanation for what we have experienced? Sometimes the Church (or maybe Christianity) feels like a huge machine that feeds on itself, pumping out relatively complex yet seemingly logical nuggets of belief that help it grow strong and become sturdy, tangible and real. Then there is the verse that says we walk by faith and not by sight. Is that a copout, a guilt-trip to keep us within an established framework and keep us from doubting? What about testing the Lord, to see if He is not faithful to those who follow Him? Those that follow Him always find that He is faithful to them, eventually.
And I guess that is the part that gets me, the ‘eventually’. “God came through for me, eventually.” “Even though it had to get worse first, eventually, He worked everything out to my good and His glory.” Anything can happen given enough time. Then there is this line, “well, I may never know His purposes, but He is so much bigger than me… I don’t need to know why that happened to me.”
I don’t mean to sound disrespectful and I’m definitely not trying to mock people of faith. After all, I am one. Its just that I’m frustrated with the system. I’ve never been a fan of programs, processes, or formulas. Even within the framework of my faith I have vehemently opposed the structured approach to knowing and experiencing God. That said, there are some elements to the way I believe God works that require order. Within that order I have reached a new threshold in my faith, in my relationship with God.
Up until know I’ve pretty much been your stereotypical guy as far as faith goes. Yes, I’ve bucked the system (organized church) more often than not, and in comparison with my parents faith I’m a bit revolutionary, if not liberal. But I am still, on the surface (and maybe that’s the problem), your typical follower of Christ. I go to church, even if it is a new model of church. I read my bible, even if it isn’t the KJV. I sing praise and worship songs, even if they tend to be on the bit more artistic side. I pray, even though it sounds a lot different from how my parents pray. And in all this I found Christ. I experience God and knew that He was real. But it is no longer enough. It is not satisfying to go through these obligatory motions day in and day out. My faith, literally, is no longer sustainable by mere routine and what I am beginning to see as somewhat trivial practices. I need something more, much more.
If there is a God, I feel like He is teasing me. You see, the more frustrated I become with my current position, the more I seem to meet people who have that something more that I so desperately want. My framework tells me that what they have is the Holy Spirit. Now, supposedly I have that too and I guess I do, but it is in a different way. These people seem alive in their faith. To them it is more than just a system of belief, it is more than a lifestyle. To them it is more than daily rituals or social activities. To them it is their essence, their life source. You could say they have been “baptized by the Holy Spirit,” if we wanted to give it a technical explanation, but I’m trying to get away from the technicality of it all. Sometimes these folks pray in what sounds like gibberish. When they talk to God they are so passionate they are at a loss for words, literally, and it comes out in incomprehensible syllables. I call this speaking in tongues. And while some of my more boring and fruitless compadres in faith don’t believe this to be “of God” or “valid to the faith,” I do. I have never experienced this, but understand its use and meaning within my framework of faith often better than those who have experienced it. Often these individuals who have been baptized in the Holy Spirit also experience other interesting facets of faith. These are people who experience the miraculous, who have such an interaction with the Lord on a level beyond the mind that words cannot describe and logic cannot explain (nor need too) what it is that they’ve experienced. Their spirit has been witness to that which the mind cannot comprehend.
Here in lies my problem: I want a faith that defies explanation. I don’t want to be able to rationalize what I experience in my faith, which so far is one that is, both personally and corporately, reducible to explanations of the human mind. I don’t want that. As odd as it sounds (especially to someone like me), I don’t want to understand what I believe. After all, isn’t that what faith really is, the belief in the unexplainable? I want to be so overcome by Him in whom I believe that I cannot explain Him. I’m not suggesting an emotional experience in and of itself either. Emotions have their basis in the mind, and that’s what I’m trying to avoid. I want a deeper reality than what the mind affords. The mind is a part of physical reality, and my framework of belief tells me that spiritual reality is even more real and more important than the physical word. So why then should I be satisfied with a faith that exists solely in cognitive reasoning, on a plane of lesser importance?
I want to realize God in a different way than what I currently do because how I know and experience Him now is limited to the confines of my mind. Never put God in a box, right? I think it works both ways. Never put yourself in a box either, because if you do the only way to see God is to put Him in there with you.
This is my prayer: God, take me out of this box. I don’t know how I got in here and I really don’t care. I just want out. I want to see you and know you and feel you in ways that these words seem inadequate to describe. Will you let your Spirit flood my box and break down its flimsy walls and wash me away from what I know? Break apart my framework so you can paint picture and take me on an adventure into the unknown where you are revealed for who you truly are. Take away my doubt by taking away my mind. Amen.
This is new for me. I can honestly say I’ve never doubted my faith in God, or should I say my faith in a God. Now I may have doubted some aspects of Christianity, whether or not this God actually loved me or cared about me, but I’ve always had an intrinsic knowing that there is at least a God. This is a different doubt, one that scares me far more than any in the past.
For so long I’ve had an intellectual understanding of what I believe, or what I think I believe (is that an oxymoron?). I have a very clear perception of truth within my framework of faith. Now that same intellect is causing me to question the very foundation that framework is built upon. Does God even exist?
I guess my biggest hang-up is this: could everything that I have experienced so far in my faith walk, from the simple experiences of fellowship to the more complex issues of operating under the influence of the Spirit of God, all be fabrications of the human mind? And have we corporately constructed a communal explanation for what we have experienced? Sometimes the Church (or maybe Christianity) feels like a huge machine that feeds on itself, pumping out relatively complex yet seemingly logical nuggets of belief that help it grow strong and become sturdy, tangible and real. Then there is the verse that says we walk by faith and not by sight. Is that a copout, a guilt-trip to keep us within an established framework and keep us from doubting? What about testing the Lord, to see if He is not faithful to those who follow Him? Those that follow Him always find that He is faithful to them, eventually.
And I guess that is the part that gets me, the ‘eventually’. “God came through for me, eventually.” “Even though it had to get worse first, eventually, He worked everything out to my good and His glory.” Anything can happen given enough time. Then there is this line, “well, I may never know His purposes, but He is so much bigger than me… I don’t need to know why that happened to me.”
I don’t mean to sound disrespectful and I’m definitely not trying to mock people of faith. After all, I am one. Its just that I’m frustrated with the system. I’ve never been a fan of programs, processes, or formulas. Even within the framework of my faith I have vehemently opposed the structured approach to knowing and experiencing God. That said, there are some elements to the way I believe God works that require order. Within that order I have reached a new threshold in my faith, in my relationship with God.
Up until know I’ve pretty much been your stereotypical guy as far as faith goes. Yes, I’ve bucked the system (organized church) more often than not, and in comparison with my parents faith I’m a bit revolutionary, if not liberal. But I am still, on the surface (and maybe that’s the problem), your typical follower of Christ. I go to church, even if it is a new model of church. I read my bible, even if it isn’t the KJV. I sing praise and worship songs, even if they tend to be on the bit more artistic side. I pray, even though it sounds a lot different from how my parents pray. And in all this I found Christ. I experience God and knew that He was real. But it is no longer enough. It is not satisfying to go through these obligatory motions day in and day out. My faith, literally, is no longer sustainable by mere routine and what I am beginning to see as somewhat trivial practices. I need something more, much more.
If there is a God, I feel like He is teasing me. You see, the more frustrated I become with my current position, the more I seem to meet people who have that something more that I so desperately want. My framework tells me that what they have is the Holy Spirit. Now, supposedly I have that too and I guess I do, but it is in a different way. These people seem alive in their faith. To them it is more than just a system of belief, it is more than a lifestyle. To them it is more than daily rituals or social activities. To them it is their essence, their life source. You could say they have been “baptized by the Holy Spirit,” if we wanted to give it a technical explanation, but I’m trying to get away from the technicality of it all. Sometimes these folks pray in what sounds like gibberish. When they talk to God they are so passionate they are at a loss for words, literally, and it comes out in incomprehensible syllables. I call this speaking in tongues. And while some of my more boring and fruitless compadres in faith don’t believe this to be “of God” or “valid to the faith,” I do. I have never experienced this, but understand its use and meaning within my framework of faith often better than those who have experienced it. Often these individuals who have been baptized in the Holy Spirit also experience other interesting facets of faith. These are people who experience the miraculous, who have such an interaction with the Lord on a level beyond the mind that words cannot describe and logic cannot explain (nor need too) what it is that they’ve experienced. Their spirit has been witness to that which the mind cannot comprehend.
Here in lies my problem: I want a faith that defies explanation. I don’t want to be able to rationalize what I experience in my faith, which so far is one that is, both personally and corporately, reducible to explanations of the human mind. I don’t want that. As odd as it sounds (especially to someone like me), I don’t want to understand what I believe. After all, isn’t that what faith really is, the belief in the unexplainable? I want to be so overcome by Him in whom I believe that I cannot explain Him. I’m not suggesting an emotional experience in and of itself either. Emotions have their basis in the mind, and that’s what I’m trying to avoid. I want a deeper reality than what the mind affords. The mind is a part of physical reality, and my framework of belief tells me that spiritual reality is even more real and more important than the physical word. So why then should I be satisfied with a faith that exists solely in cognitive reasoning, on a plane of lesser importance?
I want to realize God in a different way than what I currently do because how I know and experience Him now is limited to the confines of my mind. Never put God in a box, right? I think it works both ways. Never put yourself in a box either, because if you do the only way to see God is to put Him in there with you.
This is my prayer: God, take me out of this box. I don’t know how I got in here and I really don’t care. I just want out. I want to see you and know you and feel you in ways that these words seem inadequate to describe. Will you let your Spirit flood my box and break down its flimsy walls and wash me away from what I know? Break apart my framework so you can paint picture and take me on an adventure into the unknown where you are revealed for who you truly are. Take away my doubt by taking away my mind. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment