Fragile Faith and a House of Cards

I’ve been thinking about worldviews and Christianity, in particular. In all honesty, the topic fascinates me to no end, despite me being on the receiving end of a profound couple of worldview challenges over the course of my life. There is almost nothing more disorienting than realizing that your worldview is too small, or, worse still, wrong.

I had my own disorienting “valley of the shadow of death” moment back in college. Cliche, I know. “Next, you’ll be telling us the sky is blue and water’s wet.” I mean, sure, it is, but sometimes cliches are there for a reason. Anyway, being a Bible major, meant I was wrestling with theology daily – from all different traditions of Christian history. I found myself at one point staring at a metaphorical pile of cards where what I thought was my faith had been. It had, in my mind, been an unassailable fortress of belief and right doctrine. Everything had a place and answer… and then my professors walked through and plucked out or shifted the cards one by one. My reading began to shift the table under the house of cards, and new forms of worship opened up as I traveled with our choir to different churches and had devotions with an Anglican friend out of the Book of Common Prayer.

This to say I still cling to orthodoxy (“right doctrine”) and orthopraxy (“right doing”), but the object of my trust has shifted. To say that I trust God now would sound, to most of us, a little odd. But, looking back, I think that was my problem. I trusted the system I had, rather than trusting the One that system described. When my system was challenged, and my house of cards fell, what was left was a person, a God who was smiling at me like a father whose child has just realized playing cards don’t make a sturdy house. And so I began wrestling – which has a long Biblical tradition in Jacob, whose name was even changed to “God struggles with” or “struggles with God.” That wrestling took me through church history, through modern theological thoughts, back to the church fathers, and through recent discoveries and scholarship on 1st Century Jewish life.

I’ve heard of so many Christians that have a trust in God based on a list of “provable facts” and some basic apologetic work who found themselves in a dark place when confronted by a worldview or counterpoint that challenges these basic beliefs. Many overcome this by realizing that our trust is in God, not in rhetoric or some tightly-constructed system of thinking. Some, though, if challenged on one belief, begin to question other beliefs and can drift into agnosticism as their house of cards collapses around them.

It’s okay to doubt, to question, to dialogue with God and others. The Bible isn’t particularly concerned about doubt – see Abraham, Job, David, etc. What the Bible seems to care about more is who is being doubted. Notice that the names listed above are still heroes celebrated for their faith, despite their moments of doubt. These people and many in the Bible like them are examples that God can take doubt, He can handle questions. God works with insecurity. One of the biggest complaints from naturalists of religion is that we believe regardless of facts. I take issue with this, a little. We believe because we trust, the other way around can lead to shaky ground.

Is your trust in a system of theology, or in the One that system describes? It can be hard to confront when we realize our theology is getting in the way of our trusting God. I may not subscribe to someone else’s theological blueprint, but I can celebrate those commonalities that we can affirm together as we worship, praise, and serve as one Body.

If you had to really think about it, where is your faith (read trust) centered: on a system of belief, or on the One that system describes? What do you model to your children? How are you introducing your children to God, and not just a system of belief?

Defying Destiny

Ok… I will hedge this a bit and say that anyone of a particularly Calvinist bent may find a lot to argue with on this post.

Anyway, in the West, we are the recipients of an ingrained belief in “destiny.” We have an endless fountain of tragic stories where the protagonist is destined for failure but can’t see it himself or herself. And we cringe and wince as each choice brings that person closer and closer to their own demise, even as they struggle and fight against it.

And, oddly enough, Americans really like the idea of being “destined.” Well, we like the idea of being destined for greatness. It’s even built into the American ideal of being the exceptional people, a new Israel, if you will.

But we often overlook all of those young people or families “destined” for failure. We tend to write them off as lost causes or stubborn. And we watch the tragedy unfold as each choice leads them closer to their own suffering one step at a time.

Do we ever stop to wonder if destiny is really a thing?

I only bring this up because I have seen so many people, by the grace of God, manage to break free of their bonds and find freedom from their “destiny.” I have watched people destined for tragedy manage to eke out a comedy at the very end. What might have been a Eurydice becomes a Comedy of Errors, if you will.

Consider what we call prophecy in the Hebrew Bible. It’s not prophecy in the Greek sense. Biblical prophecy always has a choice. It’s almost as if there is a giant, “but” standing over each pronouncement of catastrophe. God sends a prophet with a message of destruction, and leaves room for a big ole “but if you repent, this could all be avoided.” The biggest case-in-point Jonah. He flees from Ninevah not because he was scared of the people, but, because he knew God would forgive them. (Jonah 3.10-4.3) Jonah’s message to the city had been, “You people have 40 days left, you’re toast!” Sounds pretty definite and concrete. And yet, when Ninevah from the top down repented, God removed the punishment. The pronouncement had an implied “but” that repentance would change the outcome.

Now, is this how it works in every case? No. But we have all seen people shake off what weighed them down and found peace in God’s forgiveness and strength.

So what’s this got to do with your family? Well, many of us have something called family curses. These are behaviors or issues that plague generations because they are passed on from parent to child. These are things like anger, bitterness, apathy, perfectionism, alcoholism, poverty, abuse… In some ways we’ve all internalized that if you come from a background with these things, you’re almost “destined” to repeat them.

How do you break free? Well, let’s learn from the Ninevites… A phrase that even I wouldn’t have seen coming. Anyway, first, the Ninevites recognized their problem. They realized that Jonah was right – their lifestyle did justify their downfall. The Assyrians, by all accounts, were ruthless conquerors and quite violent. Then, the Assyrians turned to God, they showed through their actions and words that they acknowledged their situation and asked for forgiveness. Then, God acted and forgave, leading the people to change their actions.

Ok, so it may not be that easy. Breaking free of something ingrained is difficult. But we don’t have to walk down life’s road with the tragic finality of Oedipus or Julius Caesar. We can look to God for deliverance, for hope, for strength to break the chains.

Take a moment to think. Are there any behaviors or attitudes that you don’t want to pass along to your children? Are there any family curses you’d like to break? Talk to God about it. Then, find some fellow believers and discuss how they can help you change the future.

For further listening/reading:

Strand, Robert. The B Word: The Purpose and Power of the Blessing. Mobile, Alabama: Evergreen Press, 2005. Print. 

Lord Rabbi Sacks, Jonathan. “On Not Predicting the Future.” Vayechi, Covenant and Conversation 5776. iTunes, 2016. Web. 21 Dec. 2015.