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This morning I just about went over the edge doing nothing. I lazed around, I bummed around, I hung around, lolled, loafed, idled, and lounged. I studied Catalan for about 30 minutes, then I messed around on Age of Empires II. I folded a few socks, then I putzed around on facebook. I washed my cereal bowl, then I screwed around on blogger’s blogs of note. Nothing productive was accomplished. By midafternoon, I had had enough. It’s sunny with a high of 75, so I dragged my sorry butt out of bed and went for a bike ride. I rode the 15 minutes down to the beach, then decided to keep exploring. Es Pontás is a famous rock formation—a natural arch formed by the sea—right next to Cala Satanyí, and I had never gotten around to finding it.
Today I went.
There was only one problem. My friend Hannah and I discussed this when I went to Belgium: discovering a new place alone isn’t all that fun. I had no one to turn to, to say “Hey! Check out how the sun sparkles on the water,” or “I wonder if there are any fish,” or “Wanna go swimming?” There was just me. I was thinking… a dangerous pastime, I know. And then I started to wonder about the existence of God.
I want to think God exists. I think He should exist. I was raised to be Christian, and if I were to choose any religion now, it would be Christianity. I just can’t convince myself at the moment that Christianity holds all the truths, or that God isn’t just a figment of our collective imagination. How can I say that? How can I be in such an amazing place—azure waters, mellow sun—and blaspheme God? I really can’t imagine all of this evolving to its present state—but then again, I can’t imagine God, either. Humans have stood in the place where I sat for thousands and thousands of years. There were many religious precursors to Christianity—Zoroastrianism and Judaism being two obvious ones to mention—and Christianity , in my mind, is an evolved form of these ancient religions of the Middle East. The still-Christian part of me says: Well, duh… Jesus is the fulfillment of Judaism—the Alpha and the Omega—the reason the Torah was written. But why the Jews? Why does God have a chosen people? Does it have anything to do with the fact that the “chosen” people happened to be the ones to write the holy texts, so they were in a position to portray themselves as chosen? What about all the other groups of humans throughout history, who created religions for themselves and were just as convinced that they were right as the Jews were, or as we are today?
Why am I Protestant? God as I know (knew) Him has existed since Martin Luther described Him. Is that blasphemy? Didn’t Martin Luther just interpret God in a more correct manner? What about other branches of Christianity, then? I know, I know the answer to that one: the most basic tenants of Christianity are that 1) there is no God but God, 2) Jesus is God, 3) Jesus died in order that we may live in heaven with God. That’s it. All the rest is fluff. But why do we have the fluff, then? To make us feel better? Why am I a Christian to begin with? What if I had been born into a Muslim family? Would that make my existence, my surroundings, any less real or less believable? What I mean is—I think Christianity makes sense, because I was raised to believe that. My reality, or the way I see the world, is shaped by the society that I live in. I was taught that Christianity=truth, so that is how I saw it. If I had been raised to think that Allah were the One True God, and if all my neighbors had prayed to Mecca every day, then my worldview would have been radically different—but would that have made it a lie, just because Christianity says it is?
I used to believe. At least, I think I believed. I believed in a lot of things back then. Jesus says we should be as little children, but does that mean we should abandon our power of reason? When I graduated from high school, my mom gave me a book called “Can You Keep Your Faith in College?” and the answer to this rhetorical question was a resounding yes, at least according to the book. You Can! I guess I didn’t. I tried going to church in McMinnville, but it just wasn’t the same. I went to youth groups—FCA and Campus Crusade for Christ—and to Bible study groups, but I never found my preferred version of God. God as I knew Him only existed at home, in my home church, in my group of friends. We all interpret God differently—does that make Him different to everyone, or are we just viewing Him through a skewed lens? If our own individual views of God aren’t accurate, then who is to say that the Christian interpretation of God is the right one?
This time last year I was in the Dominican Republic with the Gardiner-Mammoth church’s adult mission group. We built a house in a poor part of Santo Domingo, and it was, as always, a wonderful experience. Serving God by showing practical love to people in need is a wonderful concept. I still struggle with the idea of evangelism, however… I don’t think I have enough concrete ideas about evangelizing to even put them in question form here.
I have been reading Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis, trying to convince myself that I should be a Christian again. I want to have the faith of a mustard seed. I do. I want to. Or at least, most of me wants to. There is a small part that fights back, that keeps me from fully reaching out to God, or really believing in Him. Or believing that the Christian way of life is the only way of life. When I picture Christians, I try to picture my friends at home, and the people I look up to personally, rather than the outspoken Christians of right-wing politics. Politicians are Christians because they could not survive as politicians in America if they were Muslim, or Hindu, or atheist. Real people, however, are Christian because… why? Because their neighbors are Christian? Because their families are Christian? I hope not. I hope real people have really found God—have discovered for themselves the truth in God’s words—have really found peace in a lifestyle attuned to God’s wishes. I have not found that peace. I know there is no fulfillment in material things, but to be completely, utterly honestly, I cannot find fulfillment in God. I cannot be a Christian merely because my friends at home are Christian. I cannot be a purely social Christian. How can I convince my own heart that life lies in God, the One True God?
I went to Es Pontás today seeking…something. Fulfillment doesn’t lie in finding various ways to fill up time. I need something else in my life, and all my life, I have been taught that that “something else” is God. Is feeling lonely a completely selfish reason to be a Christian? The thing is, I know this questioning will pass. I know that tomorrow, I’ll go to work, I’ll chat with my coworkers, and I’ll forget that I was ever going through a crisis of faith. I’ll not remind myself that I had faith at all until I get home and flip open my computer, and I’ll remember my desperation, but it will be a thing of the past. I’ll go on with my life until something triggers a response in me: “Oh, yeah, I should believe in God.” But so far, real faith hasn’t happened. Am I just living too cushy of a lifestyle? Do I need to be going through a real crisis before my need for God will kick in strong enough to make me believe? But in Ecuador, when I was going through a real, live crisis, I couldn’t find peace in God. I think that was where I really lost my faith. Once I stop believing, how do I start again?
