Faith

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Though most of us can rightly pat ourselves on the backs for being way too smart or biblically literate to have taken the latest doomsday predictions seriously, I think we can all feel a bit of compassion and sadness for the throng of believers who truly, truly believed that Christ would return for the faithful yesterday at 6pm. We may also feel a bit of common ground with them.

It can be terribly disorienting to believe deeply – and to discover you’re wrong. And though we were not duped by Harold Camping like his followers – most of us know something about trying to pick up the pieces after the weakness of our theology has been exposed.

What do you do, when what you used to believe to be true no longer makes sense? What do you do when your deepest beliefs are called into question?

Ask the children of Israel when they found themselves in Babylonian Exile in the 6th Century BCE, after they had witnessed the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. Did it mean the gods of Babylon were superior to the Lord God of Israel?

Ask Cleopas and his unidentified friend on the road to Emmaus, distraught and discouraged because they had hoped Jesus was the one to redeem Israel, and now he was dead.

Ask the people who stand in the rubble of their flattened lives and land after the cruel destruction and devastation from an “act of God” – a tsunami, earthquake or flood.

Ask the mother who stands by the grave of her child.

Ask Job….

In the summer of 1992, I had my first real taste of theological education – it was a four week emersion into the Ministerial Course of Study for Ordained Ministry at Duke Divinity School. It seemed like everything I had held to be true, without previous question about faith, was taken away from me. Everything I believed to be true, it seemed, was called into question.

After two weeks I hit bottom – I was confused and disenchanted. I wasn’t sure what to believe about anything anymore. I was no longer sure I was called to preach – I was no longer even sure I was a Christian. I didn’t know what to believe about God, about the Church, about myself, about anything. It was a horribly disorienting experience.

As I left my last class on the Friday of the second week, my eye caught one little newspaper clipping that was stuck to one of the professor’s doors in the hallway. It was a cartoon, entitled “Sherman on the Mount”.

In the comic strip, Sherman is standing on a hillside and sneezes. A voice from the cloud says, “God bless you”. Sherman looks up and says to the cloud, “Can I ask you a question?”
And the voice responds, “Sure, Sherman, what’s on your mind?”

“My mom in Jewish, my dad is Catholic, all my friends are Protestant and I dress like a Monk. I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’m confused.”

“It’s OK to be confused, Sherman. Just keep the faith!”

As odd as it may sound, that little comic strip saved my faith that day. All of a sudden, it seems alright somehow that I didn’t have all the answers (or even nearly as many as I thought I had).

And I soon began to realize that God was much bigger than the little box I had been trying to keep God in. And I began to see the value of the painful deconstruction of my old ways of understanding, which paved the way for new understandings. And though I came away from it all with fewer answers and more questions, the process also left me with a much deeper trust and respect for the unsearchable mysteries of God.

So, let’s say a prayer for the disappointed followers of Harold Camping today – and yes, even for old Harold who’s got to soon run out of excuses and explanations.

And let’s say a prayer for one another – for the times our faith has left us wanting, for those seasons when bumper sticker theology and Christian clichés no longer suffice – for those times when we’re confused and we’re not quite sure what to believe anymore.

Remember, it’s OK to be confused. Just keep the faith!

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