Please, join our heresy

I received an email yesterday that engaged me more than anything I've read in a while. It was from Janet, my heart's sister. She asked me some no-frills questions about spiritual doubt. I love those sorts of "hard" questions. No wishy-washiness. No Sunday school language. Just: Here's what I've been thinking about. What's your take?

Sometimes the discussion is resolved with an "answer," oftentimes not. But always I feel invigorated by the discourse. Aren't we instructed to love the Lord with all our hearts, minds and souls? He's not afraid of our questions. What are yours?

I'm posting a very slightly edited version -- I had to dumb myself down just a little, you know, so as not to intimidate anyone -- of our "conversation" yesterday. I invite you to join in.

----- Original Message -----

From: Janet
To: Toni
Sent: Wednesday, January 10, 2007 12:21 AM
Subject: rambling...

Toni,

I don't know if this has ever happened to you, but I was being asked a gazillion questions by Austin about Lucifer and his descent into Hell, when it dawned on me – I'd rather be asked about Santa Claus, because THAT I can explain. Have you ever felt this way? I mean, I know what I know; I feel what I feel; but sometimes I can't help but feel I'm perpetuating some myth Frank told us all was fake long ago.


I'm not having a crisis of faith. I repeat: I AM NOT HAVING A CRISIS OF FAITH.

But still...

Austin had asked me about Lucifer's fall from Heaven, because he’s been explaining it all to a friend, and I found myself longing to explain Santa Claus's rise from Chris Cringle and the whole Rudolph saga. It's much easier.

So I talked to Wade, and he read me an excerpt from "The Brothers Karamazov" that was so compelling, so riveting that it was comforting. This has seriously been a question for thousands of years. And, as I had suspected: agnostics, atheists and believers alike all require faith. Faith. What a hard-to-nail-down word. What is faith?

And, how can God really value it when I have NOTHING else to offer? Everything takes faith. Not believing. Believing.

You know I love Jesus Christ with all that I am. He is my Savior; He has my heart, soul, marriage, my two boys and my girl. What I am extending to you is an opportunity to share any insight or struggle of your own. Wade and I sat up, with him reading to me from his marked-up copy of "The Brothers Karamazov," which was romantic and intellectually and emotionally stimulating in and of itself. But I thought I'd extend the question to you, my dear friend: Have you doubted God? Satan? What does that doubt look like?

I'm not expecting an answer back quickly...take your time. I love you.

JT

----- Reply -----

From: Toni
To: Janet
Subject: question
Date: Wed, January 10, 2007 11:18 AM

JT,

I love that you would think to ask me these questions, that you would share your thoughts on this subject. What a gift. Thank you.

Have I doubted God? Well, yes. Honestly, I think anyone who says they haven't is either a) lying or b) not given to thinking deeply about things. Part of faith is, for me, choosing to believe even when I doubt. Now, if I was plagued by doubts, that would speak to a deeper issue, one that would need resolving. But my doubts about God or the best manifestation of himself, Jesus, have usually come fleetingly amidst times of prolonged spiritual laziness.

In fact, I think what doubts I’ve had in the past were rooted more in a ... desire that there NOT be a God. What I mean is, wouldn't it just be easier if this life was it? Granted, I'm living a life that is, by the standards of at least 90 percent of the world, luxurious. So it's easy for me to say that. I'm not hungry or in pain or lacking for ANYTHING. So wouldn't it be easier, I have mused, if I could do what I wanted without consequences beyond this life? Existentialism – the view that we must create meaning for ourselves in an unknowable, godless universe – is seductive. To my mind it can be boiled down to two things: seize the day and, if you're nice, do unto others as you'd have them do unto you. The end.

But, the thing is, I couldn't believe that if I wanted to. God is too real. I'd have to literally pretend not to see him and hear him. I would have to ignore all the amazing works he's performed. It would take more faith for me to ignore him than to concede him.

And his way, the Jesus way, is hard. It's about service. It's about dying to yourself. It's about becoming less so that we can become more. Jesus was unbelievably radical. He turned the universe on its head and then said: Follow me. Do what I do. Was he serious?! Do what he did? Me?

So, yes. Sometimes I feel too lazy to follow and I think, Wouldn't it be easy if I could just carpe diem and, while I'm at it, be nice to people whenever possible? But what did David say? He said this life is but a breath. We were created to live eternally, and earth is not our home. So what seems as though it would be easier – not believing – would be incredible folly in light of what's ahead, like happily splashing in a puddle when the vastness of the ocean is over the rise.

Then, of course, when I embrace the Lord, there are not only hardships, but incredible blessings. Unexpected and bountiful blessings. And life without him would be so hollow, a sounding gong.

As for Satan, well, JT, it may just be easier to believe in him than God. This is his turf we're on, and surely he is horrendous beyond my ability to conceive. I read stories of torture and murder throughout the world, things happening right now -- as I write this. A few days ago, I struck up a conversation in the post office with a Jewish man who survived a concentration camp in Poland. His father and brother were shot in front of him. He was 13. He escaped to the woods. No one took him in. I've never doubted Evil. Satan is Evil. I choose not to think too much about him; there are dark places we're not supposed to go. And, as you know, I've seen a glimpse once or twice, and it's terrifying.

I love you, my very dear friend. And I'd love to hear more of your thoughts.
t.