I suffered a crisis of faith when my husband died. That is,
on top of the trauma of losing a loved one, a part of myself.
What did I believe? Did I believe? Other people seemed so
certain ...
Our Daughter had been staying with us before and after the
death. Some years ago, she had been called to the Pentecostal Church, believed the Bible literally and
talked to God all the time – sometimes in that incomprehensible way known as
Speaking in Tongues. She was so secure in her black and white faith.
A close friend, a
long time seeker, had been “born again” a couple of years earlier, and delighted
in spending three to four hours every morning in prayer and Bible Study. There was no room for discussion or doubt. "The Bible says
it. I believe it. That settles it."
I joined a Bible Study group consisting of my neighbours,
and soon realized (like in the first 5 minutes) that they all had this undoubting
black and white faith, ad with it a strong sense that God was with them and
would protect them: as the Poet said “God’s in His heaven, All’s right with the
World.”
But that didn’t make any sense to me. I couldn’t believe as they did, I didn’t feel
the presence of God as they did. All was not right with the world.
Prayer, reading the Bible, reading devotional books, worship
in Church all seemed sterile. No feeling – numbness. Yes, I believed in a
supreme being, but was he the wise old Grandfather up in Heaven of my
Conservative Christian friends? Was he a
clockmaker God, who made and wound up the Universe and just let it run on its
own? Where was the immanent God I used to believe in and pray to? Where was the
Ground of my Being, to use Paul Tillich’s words? And where was Jesus?
Searching, I went on a retreat, where I told a wise Priest
about my unbelief. At the end of the session, I started to cry, and through my
tears, blurted out: “I don’t even know if I am a Christian anymore!”
Of all the probable responses, I would never have expected
the one got. “We have a course starting
in the fall to train Spiritual Directors. Why don’t you enrol?” Rendered speechless,
I let him pray for me and left.
So began a journey – or maybe the journey just continued.
Who can say where we start? I researched the course, talked, very frankly with
a spiritual director who had taken the course, discussed it with my own priest,
prayed about it, and decided to enrol in the 2 year course. After all, what did
I have to lose, apart from some time and money
worth it if I found my faith again.
All this time, I felt as if there was a wall between me and
the rest of Humanity. In my grief and pain, I could not feel the joys or sorrows
of others. I remember sitting on a hotel room balcony in Florida, reading alone
because I didn’t want to join the crowd around the pool, feeling as if there
was a glass panel between me and the rest of the world. Well, a glass panel was
better than a brick wall.
The course taught me so much about faith. There was no
blinding light, but I was with other people who were committed Christians, but
didn’t need to see everything in black and white. It was OK to have shades of
grey. I learned (or maybe relearned in some cases) that there are many ways to
relate to God, many ways to pray, many paths leading to the Divine presence.
But still I was in a glass bubble – yes the glass pane surrounded me and became
my bubble.
The breakthrough came one day quite unexpectedly. No, the glass did not break,
But I had a vision. the glass bubble that surrounded me was not a sphere, but
an egg a thin glass shell. God was telling me that out of this harsh and dark experience,
I would be reborn.
It would make a good ending to this tale if I could point to
the moment when the egg shell broke and a new me emerged, but it didn’t happen
like that.
Slowly, things changed, I evolved. The egg vision was a
turning point, but I was still journeying – I am still journeying. Life is a journey.
I now longer see myself constrained in a bubble or Glass
egg. I no longer try to understand God
or have a single image of the Divine. it is enough to experience the
transformation the risen Christ has made and continues to make in my life. The
journey continues.
The way I see God and
myself will continue to change as I journey, but now I know that God travels
with me, that whatever happen. God loves
me more than I could ever dream of. I
don’t need answers. I have learned to love living with questions, remembering that
God is too vast for human understanding. A God I could understand would somehow
be less than I am, and I don’t want that God.
The God I cannot understand holds me close – what more could
I ask for?
Points to Ponder:
What have been the turning points
in your faith journey? Can you see how God is working in you and with you?
How does the way you picture God
impact the way you live?
Prayer
Loving God, Mystery of Life, Give me the vision to see how
you are working in my life, and the courage to walk with you along this path.
