Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, September 11, 1994 TAG: 9409120042
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 10 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Cody Lowe
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
The lyrics and the sermons often paint such a clear picture. God is there - or here. Jesus is God's son. Accept them both, and you will have fulfilled the requirements for salvation.
"We believe in God, and we all need Jesus," a song says.
It has just never been that neat for me. I have so many questions, and a lot of them - the "whys" especially - aren't likely to be answered to my satisfaction in this lifetime.
I'm intrigued by those who feel they have the answer to all questions, the refutation of all religious or moral counterclaims.
"God said it. I believe it. That settles it."
Religion by slogan.
Actually the people who use that one usually mean and sometimes say "the Bible said it," which I know is a fine point if you believe the Bible is God's word. But sometimes they quote people other than God from the Bible - people such as Moses, David, Isaiah, Paul.
Despite any such minor inaccuracies in the slogan, they can sum up their position in just nine words.
How tidy. Such certainty must be a comfort in our uncertain world. Everything is black and white. The Bible or prayer provides an answer to every question.
The approach is not unique to Christianity, of course. In Judaism during these holiest days of the year, there are those who will fulfill - as they see it - the requirements of law and custom in the confidence that only those who believe and behave as they do will have satisfied God.
In Islam, there are those who believe that only their reading of the Koran is correct - that only those others who follow a particular tradition or teacher are following in the footsteps of the Prophet.
I'm envious of that confidence - even when I can't buy into the specifics. I think how comfortable life must be when you "know" everything has an answer, an explanation, a reason.
Then I realize that the dangerous word in that sentiment is "comfortable." Oh, it's not a bad word in itself. I crave a comfortable chair, comfortable shoes, comfortable working conditions as much as anybody, and I don't see anything wrong with that. Sensual comfort is one of the benefits of civilization.
But intellectual comfort is one of the dangers of civilization. Lounging in physical comfort, we may find our brains - and our souls - snoozing in a cerebral La-Z-Boy.
In moments of awareness, when I've had the energy to kick the mental recliner into the upright position, I'm glad that faith really isn't simple or easy.
It's then that I understand that faith that isn't a challenge wouldn't be satisfying. That faith that goes unchallenged is of uncertain strength. That faith that denies the intellect is faith in ignorance.
I realize that my own kind of faith demands that it always be in motion.
It's like standing on the upper level at the mall, on the suspended walkway above the teaming crowd below. If you stand still, you can feel the floor pulsating with the strides of those around you. It's a little scary, and makes you want to keep hold of the handrail, but engineers and experience tell us the motion is necessary. Were the structure completely and absolutely rigid, the vibrations would shake it down around us. The strain would be architecturally unbearable.
Likewise, my faith - pillar and wall and roof - sometimes has to shake a little to avoid being destroyed by heavy-footed guests within or sudden, unexpected earthquake without.
For me, the strain of rigid faith is spiritually and intellectually unbearable.
So, I have to work at being flexible, and to deal with the fears of making life's journey on a sometimes unstable walkway.
Maybe, though, that is a truer test of faith than absolute, maybe even blind, confidence in my route.
by CNB