That May evening, 50 years ago, has held as the most crucial threshold in my life. Christ has proved to be faithful—always loving, holding—no matter the circumstances.
The same, and yet different, which makes sense. Here are some ponderings about how my faith has changed:
God is bigger. I no longer believe in a God who is so small that there’s just enough to go around, so others must believe ‘just like me’ or else my belief is under threat. There’s a lot of room in this God.
God’s concerns are different. This shocked me first when I first studied at a seminary in England. Instead of being primarily concerned with a young earth or my views on the end times, this God is very concerned about poverty, racism, our care for the most vulnerable and the environment.
My early faith was very individualistic—Jesus was my PERSONAL lord and savior. And while it is true that I know Christ’s presence in my life, I realize that we are meant to live our faith in community, working out how to be supportive of others and active change agents.
I no longer believe that it is up to me to convince others to believe. While it makes me sad to meet many wonderful people who are so deeply prejudiced against Christian faith, I can understand it. Many had terrible experiences in their childhood religion. And today’s religious right might put anyone off the faith.
I no longer believe that the Bible can be read ‘flat’ as if it dropped down from God ready-made, an idea which ignores the theology of the incarnation and makes a mockery of scripture. Instead, I believe scripture is given as a common text with which we must grapple, which will often challenge closely held prejudices and bigotries.
I no longer believe that I can understand God. As Augustine says, “If I think I have understood God, what I have understood is not God.” Way beyond my comprehension—I can love God, trust God, and experience God, but cannot ever fully grasp the mystery.
This God leaves spaces for freedom, choice, collaboration, creativity; doesn’t force belief or compel love. We may glimpse this God in slow growing trees, the smell of a new baby, Lake Superior tossed and wild. This God glimmers in a thousand places and faces: in the love of friends, in the beauty of nature, the strength of a church community, the eyes of a great dog. This God’s loving presence cannot be shaken. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This month’s contributor is Mary Ellen Ashcroft, Vicar of Spirit of the Wilderness Episcopal Church.
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