Falling Back On Faith

OK so...I have always been a religious person.  Spirituality, theology, ethics, and philosophy were interests of mine since before I could remember.  Honestly I think that as kids we are all intrigued by the question or our existence and purpose.  Over time--and as we develop more accessible passions--those questions retreat to the backs of our minds and wake us up in the middle of the night occasionally. 

Am I living a just life?  What is love? How do I act out of love? What will I do with this time before I die?  These are hard questions to think about when we are trying to tag all the mundane bases of modern life.

After all, asking these questions doesn't get us any more cash.  If we take them seriously we sometimes get less!  They also don't get the grocery list done or the house cleaned or the report filed.  This means that most of us have little time to truly consider these questions and so being "spiritual" becomes associated with a vague warm feeling we experience on Christmas Eve or on top of a mountain. In those moments we are forced--in the face of awesome beauty--to at least acknowledge our connection to something greater.  Then, holiday or vacation over, we return to the grind of the "real" world.

Look, I love to hike.  I love Christmas Eve!  However, there is so much more to these questions and how we answer them.  To think of our faith as something that exists in a discrete box--literal box in the case of a church building and metaphorical box in other cases--in our lives is to miss the point of the religious life.  To live a life of faith is to consider these questions all the time.  Then, through these questions, we touch the Transcendent.  We experience the Divine and let it influence our next steps.

Now clergy--like all people--go through rough spots in their faith and discipline.  Our beliefs change and grow.  We reject some ideas in favor of others and then sometimes return to the original belief.  We also go on autopilot sometimes.  The fact is, most of the work of a clergy person isn't terribly religious on the face of it.  There are a lot of meetings and lots of planning for things.  There are parties, classes, discussions and whatnot.  Setting these events up isn't terribly theological.  I have been through quite a few periods where I start to lose track of my faith and become basically like any other non-profit administrator.  Then--usually--something will happen that reminds me that I am, in fact, a pastor.  In those moments I recall that even the boring, mundane work of my day requires me to act out of big questions and their answers.

I bring this up because when the pandemic started--along with some personal physical problems noted elsewhere in my blog--I was pretty sure that I would go into "survival mode" and that the journey of faith would take a back seat to everything that had to be done.  There have been times where this was true.  It is particularly difficult to stay faithful when there are thorny problems in need of resolution and a number of voices and differing opinions "speaking" at the same time.  Occasionally I have struggled a bit while trying to seek consensus that hasn't really been there and trying to be rational for too long.  However, in the end, I have found myself letting go and falling back into the answers those questions force upon me.  I am learning to fall back on faith.

It is weird to think of this as being something less-than-obvious in a congregation, but we all live in the practical "real" world.  My faith community is filled with problem solvers who enjoy marshaling facts and applying them to sticky situations.  Listening to hearts is harder.  We are not rewarded for this behavior in our non-church lives.  Our basic approach is to fight to get our way.  We are surprised and frustrated when we don't.

Right now though...things have changed.  These days the path to survival and growth lies in thinking about others.  It lies, in fact, in spirituality, ethics, theology, and philosophy.  It is embedded in what we do in our religious lives.  Social distancing--like social justice--is a practice of putting someone else's needs above our own both actually and symbolically.  It means asking questions with no easy answer and putting our own egos aside for the sake of the group.  This is a time where our faith needs to be strengthened.  Which means it must be flexible.  It must bend and not break.  It means we​ must be intentional and conscious of all that is around us and move how the spirit directs.

Anyway, I have had to make some tough decisions lately.  Some of them are no doubt unpopular in certain quarters.  Like everyone I know, I don't really have much of a clue what the future will hold for us.  Yet I find joy in what I have discovered about my faith in this dark time.  I was never sure it would withstand something like this.  Instead it has grown.

So  a short celebration is in order, right?  I hope that your faith is holding you up.  If it is, congratulations! I congratulate you from my social distance.  If it isn't then I am praying for you.  All I can say is that I have been there and odds are I will be again.  Keep up the good fight and let me know if you need anything.

OK, essay over.  I need to get back to work.  There are more hard decisions today as there are most days.  I will be thinking of you all.  We will make it.  We truly shall.

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