Wednesday, July 2, 2008

I Confess to Christian Skepticism

The email from the training I had inquired about ended with "Remember that God loves you and so do I!"

I didn't even know this guy, and my first reaction, on a visceral level, was to cancel my registration to the workshop. I hate it when people tell me they love me when they don't even know me. I don't even want a stranger to tell me that GOD loves me.

What was this reaction about, I wondered? There was a hint of saccharine, of over-simplistic theology. And my experience of faith and the spiritual journey is that it is NOT always rosy, sweet, puppies and cream (to mix my metaphors a LOT). SO right away, I am suspicious of anyone who wants to brush over the fact that sometimes faith can be hard, sometimes we feel far away from God and question whether anyone can love us, sometimes we need validation that the wilderness is just as legitimately part of the journey as the wonder. Our God died a tragic death at the hands of human beings. And we are called to die (usually painfully) to our agendas all the time.

So what’s wrong with reminding people of the resurrection, too? I usually believe that the reminder is the most important thing about Christian community. I am reminded on a weekly basis that God does love me, and others are willing to share an altar rail with me, despite what the world may tell me to the contrary.

But there’s something more subtle about how that message of resurrection comes to me through community, and it is tempered with many other complex messages about God. God is transcendent as Creator, higher even than the church ceiling in a cathedral. God is as close as the peace that is exchanged after we are forgiven by God. God is in the fidgety kids and the old couple sitting quietly holding hands, and even in the overly precious verger whose job it is to create some sense of order in the large church. Especially for me, God is in the faces that look up longingly at the altar rail, hoping to see images of God for themselves as they receive the sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood.

There is nothing simple about the messiness of church, or even in the glimpse of the kingdom of heaven that such messiness might give us. Which is why I resist trying too hard to do liturgy perfectly.

But I realized also that while my skepticism may be a way of protecting myself from overly simple descriptions of God, it may also get in the way of my seeing or hearing God in others.

I went to the church website of my new acquaintance, and saw some great programs being offered that help bring healing and recovery to people’s lives. I saw an attempt to be inclusive and welcoming, which for me is the ultimate test of whether we are living out Jesus’ Gospel. I decided I did not want to be guilty of “contempt prior to investigation,” and to go ahead and attend the workshop.

But I will probably not give up my skepticism entirely.