Sitting on the edge of Faith

My faith is such that a good spiritual cleansing is usually in order. What I mean by this is that I am always up for a doctrinal or theological challenge that forces me to confront my own sense of faith and causes me to critically analyze what I believe, what I think I believe, and what I perhaps ought to believe. It’s not always easy and more often than not it seems to cause me more than a little distress, but it is necessary for me to be confronted where I am because my life is far less than the perfect portrait of what a disciple of Christ ought to be.

It is put best by writer George H. Birkett who wrote, “While I have yet to doubt God, I do doubt some of the claims that people make about God. When individuals claim to have found God and know Him as no man can, bless them; I am pleased for them, but I have my doubts. When they attach themselves to some few scriptures that particularly suit them, when they cite these scriptures as being THE answer, when they insist that all who wish salvation must follow the path THEY have chosen, I have my doubts. When the words of the Bible are cited as being as infallible as God, I have my doubts.”

Me, too. And oddly enough, my doubts and questions have come as a result of religious, doctrinal, and theological education and training. One might think that such a pursuit of education might actually help to strengthen one’s faith and not push one closer to the edge of the abyss of doubt. Still it does this and more because I have found myself more and more critical and doubtful not only of my own place as a Christian and as a preacher, but I seriously question those others who serve in the same capacity. And those preachers on TV who wear expensive jewelry and custom tailored suits are, to me, nothing more than religious entertainers because they also present themselves as possessors of absolute truth and knowledge.

To make matters worse, whenever I choose to confide in some whom I consider to be fellow disciples on the same spiritual journey of exploration, they want to dismiss my doubts as the “work of the devil” who is constantly on the prowl and seeking to destroy faith wherever he can find it. Can the answer be so simple? I know I’ve encountered some who will live and breathe in such proclamations. I just don’t happen to believe that the devil himself sees me as much of a threat one way or the other. In fact, I tend to believe that those who believe that the devil is personally out to destroy them or their faith are over-the-top arrogant. And I tend to think that those who try to present themselves as “holier than thou” are vainly trying to convince themselves of something they are as unsure of. My cynical nature being what it is, there are very few persons who demonstrate to me that their faith is as real as it ought to be, as real to them as I want my faith to be to me.

This is not to suggest that anyone owes me anything beyond the respect every human person inherently deserves, but why must I set aside anything I believe or even question in favor of those who make such proclamations of “absolute” truth? Why can’t every disciple acknowledge that life on this earth is a constant journey of discovery in which we, as humans and without exception, have the capacity to learn something new everyday that we did not know before? Why can we not embrace the words of the prophet who reminds us that the Lord’s mind is His own and not ours? It grieves me in some ways that I seem to be missing out on something these others claim to possess. It causes me to wonder two things: a) is there just no such thing, or b) is there is a divine being who is just not talking to me. I tend toward the latter.

Granted, I don’t pay nearly enough attention to my spiritual life, and there is no one to blame but myself. I spend entirely too much time at work (secular). My time away from work is split between my family and my schooling which seems to have no end in site since I can only attend part time. That leaves precious little time to devote to my pastorate, let alone my own spiritual needs; and because I spend so little time in serious contemplation, my doubts and my failures as a Christian threaten to overwhelm me. It is little wonder that those who encounter me cannot tell by my speech and demeanor that I am a church pastor.

Here’s the thing, though. I am painfully aware of my failings as a Christian, as a husband, as a father, and as a pastor (thankfully, I’m doing pretty well at school!), but I also wonder if it is possible that I am only making things harder than they have to be. Could it really be as simple as “be saved”? I have a very hard time with that overly simplistic theology because I happen to believe that the Lord expects more from us and because I believe this to be true, I spend too much of my time feeling like a failure. Work is mundane and routine, and school seems altogether pointless because I am having such a difficult time finding my footing.

One thing I can do until I find my way is to remember that I certainly do not possess all knowledge of all truth, that I am trapped by my shortcomings because I cannot let go of the requisite guilt. I can also remember that, at the very least, I have a conscience that bothers me; thus, it is still working. I can also remember that even as a pastor, I am merely on a journey with everyone else. Whether I am ordained by God or man is of little consequence if I fail to remember that even the Savior came to serve and not be served. If only we could all be so mindful.