The Evidence of Things Unseen

I have spent most of the last three months in spiritual solitude, contemplating God.

Ok, that's a little misleading. The more honest way to say it is that I've spent the last three months doing the following:

1) Not going to church.
2) Praying very little.
3) Reflecting a LOT on the meaning of faith, the nature of mystery, and the purpose of religion.

Yeah, that sounds a lot less like a spiritual activity, and a lot more like a season of doubt. Yup, that about sums it up. The last time I had doubts like this, I was asking whose version of Christianity I should believe. This time, I was asking why I should believe any at all. Why should I have faith in anything? Why should I believe in Christianity, rather than Islam? Supposedly a Muslim has faith too. Isn't it arrogant for me to assume my faith is somehow better than his?

It was really tempting just to call B.S. on the whole thing - it was ridiculous to tout something as true when I couldn't really know for sure. But I could never shake the feeling that there was something to it. I just couldn't bring myself to deny faith entirely. And every now and then there would be some prayer, or some passage of Scripture, or some hymn or sacred choral text, and I would have this calm, quiet assurance of God's presence.

I came to the conclusion that whatever was behind all this faith stuff must have something to do with that undeniable, first person experience. I couldn't put my foot down on any explicit theological proposition or system, but I knew that somehow I met God in the prayers, the songs, and the sacraments. Then I realized that if God was not something I could wrap my mind around intellectually, but that I had to experience Him in the flesh, then it was kind of silly to just sit around and think about Him. I finally decided to go to church again. Not because I felt obligated or guilty, but because I just missed visiting with God in His house.

I went to an Eastern Orthodox church; I'd been meaning to visit one for about a year now, and St. Joseph's was just down the street. The service I went to happened to be mostly in Russian (oops), but I could sort of follow along in the English liturgy booklet, and liturgy has a structure and tangibility to it, so that once you've experienced it a few times you can enter into it anywhere, anytime, even if you don't know the language. After the service, I had the privilege of a long talk with the priest (Father John) and the deacon (Deacon John). At one point, Father John quoted this gem from Hebrews:

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for,

The evidence of things unseen.”

He then moved on, but hearing this verse again got me thinking. I've used this verse so many times to make the point that even though faith means placing your trust in something unseen, it's actually about concrete things (the substance of things hoped for) and it's actually based on evidence (we judge that the evidence is in favor of the belief, even if we don't actually see it).

I couldn't have been more wrong.

The grammar of that passage always looked a little weird to me, but I've only just now realized that it actually means what it actually says – faith is not about substantial hopes, it actually is the substance of hopes. It's not based on evidence, it is itself the evidence. I don't place my faith in God because of some evidence that I find sufficient. My faith is not something I do. It's not something I can help. I have it; I can't help but have it; and if I'm going to be honest with myself, I'm going to have to acknowledge that fact. If I ask God for evidence of His existence, he says “Look, I've put faith in your heart. You cannot deny it. What more do you need?”

So it really is an immaterial question whether I ought to have faith. The fact is I do, and there's nothing I can really do about it. So I can't really call B.S., as much easier as that would be. I'm gonna have to keep seeking after God. And I guess that means going where He is, which I guess is wherever I can find Him. At least at the end of the day, I can have that calm assurance. Well, it's a start.

Mysteriology

What's the point in arguing? We're all just taking things on faith anyway.

Seriously, I'm tired of it. What's it accomplishing? The more detailed and thorough we get on our theology, the more the Church splinters. Before the year 1054, there was literally one unified Church. One doctrine, one faith. What happened? Why? Arguments about theology. The more we talk, the less we agree.

Mysteries, Season 2: Is it Lawful?

I love stories about Jesus! A couple years ago I mentioned such a story to one of my roommates, and discovered that he wasn't familiar with it. [Gasp!], I thought! You mean not every single Christian knows every single Jesus story by heart??

With that in mind, here's a Jesus story!

Why I really don't know what it is which I absolutely know that I can't possibly know.

Apologia Pro Vita Sua - “A Defense for My Life”. The title of my blog, if you were wondering, is a reference to that book by Cardinal John Henry Newman, who converted to Catholicism from Anglicanism in 1845. It's one of the more famous conversion stories, possibly since Newman started as an Anglican clergyman and ended up as a high-ranking official in the Catholic Church. When I was investigating Catholicism, someone recommended the book to me. To be honest, I was a little disappointed when I flipped through it – I'd been hoping to find in it some really compelling reasons to be Catholic, but instead what I got was mostly biographical. Pro Vita Sua – it was about his life; his spiritual journey. Nevertheless, when I started my blog, I decided to name it after his book. It was, after all, about my conversion, and it was, after all, a defense of my conversion. And it was some cool Latin words which form an obscure literary reference. Yes, I suppose I think myself very clever and witty, don't I?

One Foot in Paradise (Philosophical Fragments)

All things in this world are gray. They are all shades and shadows of ultimate existence. Would we even know pure white, if we were to see it? Is there really such a thing as complete blackness?

There can only be one unlimited existence – if there were two, they could not be separated out from one another, for that would require limits. All other existence must be limited. But perfect existence need not be unlimited. Perfection is attained when actual existence reaches its limits – when all potential is fulfilled. A thing's limits determine its potential existence. If morality is black and white, then perfect existence is the purest white; anything imperfect is a shade of gray, because it also contains nonexistence, blackness, within its limits.

Tohu Sickness

"Oh, my poor nerves!"

I have a confession – sometimes I get nervous. Not like stage fright, or test nerves, or just-before-you-call-a-girl jitters. I don't really have a problem with any of those, actually (except for the last one, that is). No, I'm talking about general nervousness – pacing fretfully up and down, paralyzed from doing anything remotely useful. Usually it starts acting up right after a big change in my life's routine, like coming home from school for the summer. Or in this case, right after getting a new job.

Prayer For Open Hands

O my Father in Heaven, open my hands.
May I hold them outstretched before Thee.
May I receive all that comes down from Thee,
Whether gift or cross, trial or blessing.

My cares and burdens I lift open-handed before Thee,
Along with every gift I have received;
That Thou might relieve me of my troubles,
Or even take back what Thou hast given,
According to Thy great wisdom and mercy.

O God, may I not close my fingers, resisting Thy will;
Whether in fear to grasp what good I have,
Or in despair to clutch what ills;
Lest, having closed hands, I receive not Thy blessings,
And accept not Thy relief.

May I not fear to receive from Thee a cross.
May I not fear that thou shouldst take from me
That which thou hast given, in Thy grace,
Above and beyond my need.
For from Thee come all good gifts,
And to Thee they must return;

For Thou givest, and Thou takest away.
Blessed be Thy name!
Amen.