Doubts Part II: Five Beads

January 7, 2014

I don't have a New Year's resolution yet. I suppose confronting these doubts would be a good one. So, on a solitary walk along the riverside, I start to think, "What is it I'm really doubting?"

I remember back to the beaded bracelets I used to make in VBS. Five colored, plastic beads, all representing God's plan of salvation. Green, Black, Red, White, and Gold. First, green, for creation. I'm not super concerned with this one right now. I would side with the creationists in a debate, but if God did use evolution to bring about life, my faith wouldn't fall apart. I think. Maybe I just don't have the energy for this one right now. I really did care during my 7th grade science research paper. And I was ready to fail high school biology before marking "evolution" as an answer on my test. But now...I feel like there are bigger fish to fry, or at least people more passionate and qualified to fry those fish than me.

Next bead: black. For the darkness in our hearts and souls. For the bad things we do or say or think. For the blame I automatically put on my husband when I'm unhappy. For the pride that makes me think I'm better than others. For the unkind words that fall out of my mouth without my permission. For sin. No...sin is not what I'm doubting. The evidence is clear in my life, in those around me, and in society at large. We are not naturally good. I never taught my first graders how to steal their neighbor's crayon, and I didn't teach them to lie about it later. No, it's clear to me that we are born sinful. And so, it naturally follows that we need help. We need to be saved.

That is the truth that I know about man. About God? Well is it even possible to have sin without God? If there's no one higher, then who's to say that stealing and lying are wrong? There isn't anyone to say that, in fact. Why would it even be important for my first graders to stop stealing crayons and lying about it? What would be the point of being good? Just so everyone can be happy? But being good doesn't always make me happy...hmmm...

Back to God...I think either it's all true, or none of it is. Some pieces are more difficult for me to grasp than others. Heaven, for example, the golden bead, is harder to concede than God. But if I believe in a loving God who created me (green bead), why would He lie to me about the existence of heaven? He not only wouldn't, but in fact, couldn't.

These doubts remind me of my fleeting childhood fear...what if my sweet, loving parents were really witches, raising us, fattening us up, all along planning to boil us in stew and eat us?? It seemed far fetched, but still...even the remote possibility was frightening. (Am I the only one who considered this? Cody??) It also reminds me of the fear I used to have in early high school of becoming anorexic or suicidal. I was afraid (probably as a result of too many preventative, inspirational speakers at high school assemblies) that these things would overcome me and force me to stop eating or throw myself off a cliff despite my will. What comfort I found in my mother's words, "Those things are a choice. You won't ultimately do them if you don't want to." Similarly, my faith is a choice. I can chose to stop believing. Or I can chose to keep believing, even with doubts.

Next bead: red. For the blood. When Jesus died on the cross. Is anyone still actually questioning whether this happened? Jesus's existence--his birth and his death on the cross is a pretty universally accepted historical fact. I'm not concerned about this one. But it's the next bead...the white one...that seems to hold the key to faith. Did Jesus rise from the dead? Did he conquer death so that our sins could be washed away, so that we could be pure and clean like snow? My doubts then, seem to be centered around Jesus, and whether or not He is the son of God who was raised from the dead. If that's true, then all of it must be true.

It puzzles me how much comfort I can still draw from this faith that I'm so busy questioning. To be reminded that Jesus conquered death, so that we have nothing to fear is so calming in the face of news about a former co-worker's brain tumor. Perhaps faith is less of a choice than I think? It seems I cannot help believing whether I want to or not...

(This is part two of a series of journal entries and research I've been working on for the last month or so. You can find part one here, part three here, and part four here.)