Do You See?

I've been contemplating today that there is a core of faith that all peoples, no matter what their religion, share.

And before you start reading too much into that statement, let me say, unequivocably, that no, I'm not being universalist here. This is something deeper — much deeper than a mere watered-down gospel would ever allow.

What I'm talking about are those passages in the Bible that claim an inherent understanding of God at the very core of all things — that the very rocks would testify if they could, presumably because they are unecumbered by "reason" and are not distracted by doubts. Rocks don't know doubt. They know only the truth.

So if the rocks have this basic truth in their nature, we can assume that so too would man, clouded as that truth is by doubt. And it would explain so much as to why all religions and philosophy are so obsessed with the balance between good and evil — the infinite and the finite.

Yin and Yang, ego and id, man and superman — both ancient and modern minds have sought to bring balance to the chaos. We try desperately to bring meaning to life.

But it seemed to me today that there is more to the story of this never-ending struggle of man's. What if all this is not just the petulant and desperate cries of the weak seeking justification by creating meaning in a "God" or philosophical understanding? What if, instead, we are simply expressing the basest nature of our souls? What if our desire to cry out to something greater than ourselves is such a fundamental part of us, that we can't help but seek, even if in the seeking we are led astray?

You have to admit that it does seem odd that so many people groups, from such diverse tribal ancestry, should all be obsessed with the concept of balance between opposites. It's really uncanny when you think about it. You have to wonder what's behind it all. And you also have to wonder why no one has been able to swing the equation too far to one side for very long, without the opposite side bringing things back into balance again.

I guess that why the story of Jesus is so powerful and so confusing at the same time. Confusing, because it seems on the surface to be just another human attempt to balance the equation. Yet powerful, because it's the only story that not only balances the equation, but also offers a compelling story of something transcending it.

In an odd way it makes so much sense. If our nature is to search for that balance and understanding, it seems to me that the perfect approach to helping man get the point is to give him a battle between good and evil to attract his attention.

But it doesn't stop there, though. Because in this story, in order to set it apart from the human creations that went before it and have been spun since it, the victor in God's story transcends our the human need for balance and comes out as something unbeholden to that balance. Jesus takes away our need to answer to a justly balanced universe, pays the price set on all sin, then defeats even the powerful evil foe by remain unshackled by the death demanded as a price. It's simply unheard of! It completely confounds the logic of a balanced world that we try so hard to establish in our lives.

Some would call the similarities among religions to be a reason for doubting the veracity of any single religion. But it's seeming to me today that maybe the similarities are simply a framework in which to emphasize the differences between answers provided by man and those crafted by a Creator.

Definitely worth thinking about.

A Sense of Loss

It's never an easy thing to realize that maybe you aren't as talented as you thought. But the more difficult thing to respond to is the need to lay down your talent as a mere distraction from your real purpose.

I'm facing this a bit in my own life of late, mostly in terms of music. And I have to admit that coming to terms with my situation has been particularly painful.

A part of me has always fantasized that my music would lead to a life of performing. I've never actually tried to pursue this dream, of course. But in spite of myself, just the opportunity to perform inspires endless visions of touring and being recognized.

The fantasy absolutely contains a certain amount of arrogance, as well. I find myself measuring myself against other performers, with myself always coming out on top. It's like I can't enjoy the talents of others. I always feel like I'm the one who should be up there playing and singing and being seen.

I guess that's why when moments like this past Friday come along, I feel so crushed. Because when reality and fantasy come face to face, I find myself confronted with the fact that perhaps I need to move on and leave whimsy behind.

As I took the stage at the church coffehouse, I was filled with my pride. I was so certain that I could deliver a performance at least as rich as the woman who preceded me, and command the room with my presence. It never occurred to me that I could deliver anything less than perfection.

Yet right from the beginning I was plagued by difficulty. First the battery in my guitar died, which in and of itself I should have taken as a sign, seeing as I had been called so far away from performing that I didn't even remember that I had a five-year-old battery in my instrument. Then after I worked out that difficulty, I begin playing and did very well at first. But by the time I finished, I found myself barely able to sing, largely because I had drunk too much coffee. And by the time I finished, I basically slunk off knowing that I was no where near as good as the others in the room.

Was I being too hard on myself? Perhaps. People liked what I did and complimented me, after all. So I couldn't have been as horrible as I thought I was. But still, it irked me to realize that I wasn't as good as a professional. I wanted desperately to find my way back to the stage and to somehow redeem myself. And it took all of myself to fight off the urge and walk away unfulfilled.

That walking away part was just terrible for me. I felt incomplete and adrift. And in that moment I was forced to contemplate the fact that maybe all this was a sign. Maybe this awful feeling was a clear communication that I should turn away from such things — that anything that left me feeling so wretched was not good for my soul.

But it's so hard to accept. I simply don't want to make another sacrifice in my life. It cuts to the heart of one of my core issues with faith these days. I feel like my faith has led me to too much sacrifice and compromise already.

I put up with pain and sorrow and submission out of belief that God's hand is guiding me to some greater understanding. But what if it's not the case? What if it isn't true and there is no benevolent Creator? Then all my self-sacrifice has meant nothing.

And so I wrestle. And wonder when the losses will end and the joy will return. And whether that end will be in God's arms, or somewhere else. I wish I knew.

Emanuelle

God with us.

What a thought! What a challenging thought.

Christmas time is always filled with sermons about this most basic of concepts for Christians. Because at the heart of our faith is a very simple idea. Emanuelle. That we have a God who would love us so much that he would actually come and dwell with us, in all our squallor and pain.

And as the Christmas season rolls around again and I am confronted once more with this message, I'm a bit saddened by the fact that I still can't blindly accept this core tennent.

I admit that I feel a bit like a man who comes home for an annual visit with his family, only to find that everyone has packed and moved away with no forwarding address. It's making me think long and hard about what I believe.

Let's face facts: What's the point of believing in God if I can't have this ideal. What's the use of having a God who's just "out there?" It does nothing for me. It gives me no real solace. It gives me no real connection. It only serves to provide, at best, a rudimentary semblance of reason to the chaos, and really, when you think about it, science already does this job quite well without all the baggage.

But "God with us?" That's a whole 'nother story. That's where the rubber meets the pavement and faith really starts to take me places. Because Emanuelle isn't just an ideal or a reason for being or even a comforting story to chase away the fear of death. No, the idea of God with us is a personal connection to the Creator of all things, and an invitation into a familial relationship with him. It's the act of a lover who pursues his bride, no matter what the cost to Himself, just for a chance to know her - to know me.

There is simply no comparing this sort of faith with any of the watered-down versions of Christianity. Because if God is not personally involved and physically real, then why be involved with Him? Salvation becomes meaningless and my longing for connection to something greater remains unfulfilled. If God is vengeful, again I have no point in pursuing him. I'm damned before I begin. I am but a plaything that can be tossed away at a whim. But if I am known and loved before I even recognized Him or lifted a single finger to act on His behalf? That makes all the difference in the world. That makes me important and satisfies all my deepest desires. And really, why waste my time with anything less?

I want so long to connect with this again. I long for a simple faith in a powerful, but gracious God. I desire the comfort of a loving creator. But all I seem to find instead is an impotent God of my own creation.

So really my dilemma is less about finding God, as much as it's about reconciling my ability to believe that a creator - one that is wild and outside of my sphere of control -would spend so much effort to pursue and know me. It's plain stubbornness on my part. I'm just not willing to settle for a shallow faith that is based on doing good deeds and believing in a vague concept of God loving us. If I'm going to believe, then I need a full and rich understanding of what it means to be loved and cherished by a God who would be willing to come and stand beside me, both in life and in my place at judgment.

How much easier to walk into any situation if I'm with a "dad" who is not just "out there" but with me. I am empowered and given the confidence to pursue adventure without the fear of being alone. I'm secure in the knowledge that I am created for glory. And I am comforted continually by a never ending flow of grace and love.

But for now, I try not to dwell too deeply for fear of finding nothing where I sought comfort and being faced with a finite existence in an infinite universe.