Painting by Gari Melchers (1860 – 1932)
Thought for the Week
I struggle with my faith. Cyclically. Some proxigean tide will send a wave of doubt crashing over me, producing the impression of drowning. I’ll flail and gasp, sometimes for hours, sometimes for days. Because my faith, or more accurately my response to my Creator’s love, is not just important to me–it’s everything. Then some quiet miracle of timing will remind me that this crisis, like all of the others, was caused by a darkened moon, not the calm light of reality.
The darkened moon that set me off a few years back was a romanticized nativity scene: a manly Joseph and ravishing Mary adoring a clean-as-a-whistle baby Jesus in a cozy designer creche, surrounded by adorable, scent-free animals and supermodel angels with chimerical wings. “That’s a myth!” I blurted, and suddenly began to panic: “So, is the very purpose of my life a myth?”
And then I realized that of course the pretty Christmas scene was a myth–all pretty religious scenes are myths. But something transcendent really did happen. Something that probably looked more like this: Barely understanding the gritty real-time miracle playing out around them, a working class couple named Yosef and Maryam made their way to a temporary hovel in a tiny, disheveled village. They settled in as the frightened teenage Maryam, writhing in pain, gave birth to a real human baby. Not a preternaturally glowing cherub, but a skinny, screaming newborn.
And yet, nevertheless, a miracle occurred: That insignificant baby grew up to be the most significant person in history, transforming the lives of billions. I know because I’m one of them. His words and actions have changed me as no other person—and certainly no invented character or deluded fanatic—ever could.
Sometimes I take disbelief for a walk, and it’s the loneliest walk there is. It’s like (if I were divorced) visiting places I used to stroll with my wife, and now traversing them alone, every step reminding me of lost love. And then I realize that if divorcing my wife would scar me, divorcing my Creator would shatter me. Because…
He didn’t just fill my heart, he created it. Every part of me is his. And so, like the real, unglamorous Joseph and Mary, I push past my moments of doubt and uncertainty…
And embrace the miracle.
Amen, and lovely.🌷 “I believe, Lord; help my unbelief.” And, in one way or another, sooner or later, He does exactly that — which turns even doubt to the good.
Exactly, Carol.
It is a valid observation that even evil intentions work to the Divine plan. Good comment 👌
I’m not sure what a proxigean tide is, but am certain I’ve endured such doubts.
The portraits of a distinctly Anglo-Saxon Jesus came to mind when you mentioned the depiction of a pristine nativity scene.
Reality: the Son of God was born in a stable and laid in a feeding trough.
God’s ways are mind boggling!
They are indeed, David!
A blessed Christmas for you.
This year’s Christmas poem.
—————
[light grows]
light grows
before we know it
as our eyes grow
to know it
and sensitize to even
the slightest hint
slightest bifurcation
the slightest touch
of incarnation
into a dark dark world
the child the child
crying in the night
he will bring us
goodness and light.
———-
Len Freeman
Beautiful, Len. Thank you!
Have you seen “Saving Christmas”? A wonderful movie. Satan sets the world he rules always to discourage us but when we turn to Jesus, a man the world laughs at and would never emulate, He gives us eyes to see everything differently and He’s so good to retrieve us when we get fearful, distracted, or discouraged to live by doubt not faith. I’ve been there too brother. God bless you because your genuine walk is a blessing to me.
Grateful to be an encourager, Joy, and enjoying getting to know you.
Another well written post. I like that you mentioned that this kind of change throughout the world not simply the result of some “deluded fanatic.” I have friends that I discuss my faith with, and often, the argument “Jesus was just a cult leader” gets thrown at me. I always find that startling, but since it is a real criticism I have to entertain it and argue against it. Little tidbits like this – the fact that this level of generational change in the world simply could not be the result of a delusional fanatic – it is reassuring, and strengthens my resolve.
Bit by bit. Bit by bit. Onward.
Onward indeed, my friend.
Thank God for doubt! Faith grows stronger every time the light shines on doubt. And I have yet to see a newborn baby Jesus who doesn’t look at least 10 days old! In art, that is; in my mind, he’s messy and screaming and hungry. And then, he’s not.
Exactly, Gail!
Fabulous insight, Mitch.
Thank you, Priscilla.
God gave us the gift of choice. So if we choose to doubt or to question our faith, as you have, it’s understandable. Fortunately, His Word is there for us to find the answers. Thanks for an insightful post, Mitch. 🙂
My privilege, as always, Nancy.
Thanks, Mitch. I needed that.
My pleasure, Bob.
What an absolutely beautiful image you found!
Thank you for daring to be vulnerable about your faith struggles… especially at a time when certainty wants to rule the day. Your post is a great reminder that the extraordinariness of the Incarnation event flows out of the very ordinariness of it. Merry Christmas to you and yours, Mitch.
Exactly, Russell, and Merry Christmas to you and yours as well, my friend.
Russell, I’m concerned about what’s going on with your blog site. A soon-to-be-fixed tech issue, I trust?
Yes. I am trying to puzzle that one out, but so far no success. I don’t find the WP help functions terribly helpful.
You have been on my mind as of late, a post about Mary and belief. I decided not to comment because this is a contemporary Christian faith channel, and I didn’t and don’t want to argue, but mostly, I didn’t want to mess with you, try and fix you to my satisfaction of what I feel faith in God means; you are beautiful as you are. But I hear you here almost becoming aware there is more to God and a life in God than you have.
The story of Jesus really hit home for me, and I took it to heart, was a vagabond pilgrim in the Holy Land for six months in ’95, camping right outside the walls of the old city, on the Mount of Olives, in the forest above Ein Karem for two weeks, the town Mary went to stay with Elizabeth, and all over Israel. I had cast my bread upon the waters in ’92, meaning I became a permanent vagabond pilgrim, traveling with no funds, bank account, no assets at all except my stories, skills, and strong two hands to work at whatever. That led me to India, where I’ve been 20 years, still a penniless person, but I am supported by my best friend and live well. I also adopted the ideas of love and help that Jesus gives, which is not to say no to anyone asking for help, and to love all, even my enemies. I give equally to murderers and prostitutes, and I give them love, and I deal with both, and people hate me for it, and I don’t hate them back. I can go on and on, but I need to tell you why the story of Jesus was so important to me, and all this bragging may melt away. It is not good to speak of your good works, but I want you to know I’ve got more than an idea about what I’m speaking about.
I discovered to my horror when I was a young teen that I was a lover of little boys, a pedophile it’s called, and it’s called by worse names, and there is no worse thing you can be on this Earth at this present time. Acceptance is big with me; I want it, as I’m an outcast with anyone who hears of my stigma, other than those close to me, and, whatever anyone says, it doesn’t matter if you do it or you don’t, meaning molest children, you’re hated anyway. I don’t by the way. It was that way in the Israel of Jesus’ day if you were a bastard child, and I’m sure you realize the people of his village, or anyone who knew Mary became pregnant out of wedlock, did not believe God was his father, except some very few close to him. They thought he was a bastard child.
Mary had to go in haste to Ein Karem, but does the Bible really explain why? The two girls where harbored there so they wouldn’t be stoned. And what a time Jesus must’ve had growing up. He couldn’t go to the temple on certain days because it was believed he would defile it, and this child is sensitive to the ways of the Lord, open to them. Imagine the bullying. He was an outcast, and you can wonder why none of that suffering on account of being believed to be a bastard is mentioned in the Bible. You know that must’ve happened. Now, what would he want from his society? The same thing I want, to be accepted.
The writers of the Gospels were concerned with giving Jesus authority, and if they would have included that material, it would be like saying he is a pedophile today, and it would’ve really turned people off. The analogy’s not perfect, but it’s not completely off the mark. You know Confucius was also said to have come from an immaculate conception, so to give him authority, although it wasn’t a religious belief, and I’m sure not everyone believed it.
Let’s say Mary had sex out of wedlock, a young girl, and Jesus was born out of that and suffered for sexual sin his entire life, and maybe even the willingness to kill him came partly from that. You would have something very viable to transform society at its roots, as these matter do hit our social underpinnings, a story that rises hate right at its most heated and heals it, a story of a mother making up for her sin, a story of a person not only overcoming that stigma but finding within himself very God, a person low in everyone’s eyes. If she can do it so can we. If he can do it so can we.
Now say we are powers hostile to God, of the spirit kind, we would not want that story to get out, the possibility of the transformation that Jesus underwent, to that deeper, higher life, to that divine life, or we were disciples and followers confounded by his death as a criminal and embarrassed by that, we would change that story into some formula like God needing a blood sacrifice for our sins and gives his own son for that, and if you don’t accept that sacrifice, don’t accept Jesus, you will suffer the worst torment for ever and ever without end.
It is difficult for a man not to have faith in faith but in God. And they will take as faith the substance of their religion. Maybe you don’t have to accept all the doctrine, and maybe accepting Jesus is not to a formula, but accepting the way to God, however God guides you to Him, Jesus being an example of that and a power to help us get there.
Thanking you for sharing so openly and vulnerably about your journey, Donny. I pray that you’ll grow into the fulness of a relationship with Christ (as you’ve noted, we don’t hold the same beliefs regarding Jesus). Also, that you’ll succeed in keeping any and all impulses regarding your attraction to children in check, seeking and finding the help you need.
Maybe you would like to read my latest post, “Ruptured the Dynamism”, which is partly a response to your reply, and I say partly because the goodwill you have is both obvious and appreciated.
The Melchers painting is beautiful
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Mitch – I don’t know how you do it – but you ALWAYS surprise me and give me food for thought. Loved: “Sometimes I take disbelief for a walk, and it’s the loneliest walk there is… divorcing my Creator would shatter me. Because…He didn’t just fill my heart, he created it. Every part of me is his…I push past my moments of doubt and uncertainty… And embrace the miracle.” I absolutely was moved by “doubt is a facet of faith, not it’s opposite.” Thank you so much for posting such creative, uplifting, and honest blogs! Happy and healthy New Year to you and those you cherish.
So glad it spoke to you, Joanne. Wishing you and yours a happy, healthy New Year as well!
Great post. It’s almost as though you are writing about me! Except for “proxigean tide.” Whoa.
I confess, Jeff, I looked that one up. It matched perfectly the metaphor I wanted to open with, so I used it.
Well said Mitch. We all have struggles to hold tight to our faith. It helps to read about others who have struggles. _Janet Oldfield
It does, Janet, and Happy New Year, btw!
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