On Faith
What do I believe?
Every once in a while, someone questions my faith.
“Have you found Jesus?”
“Was he lost?”
“Have you been saved?”
“From what?”
I know it’s not nice to play with the door-to-door savior salesmen, but, sometimes, I just can’t help myself. The truth is, it sort of depends on the day and how bad my week is going. Some days, it’s easy to believe in all sorts of things, to have faith in the world and the general goodness of mankind. Some days, not so much. I always want to have something incredibly cynical and sarcastic and witty to say to people who ask me about my faith. Something to deflect the question and invite the questioner to go away.
I believe in the soul, the small of a woman’s back, high fiber, the hanging curveball, good Scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are overrated, self-indulgent pieces of crap. I believe that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, wet kisses that last three days. Good-night.
– the “What do you believe?” Speech from Bull Durham.
That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. You know, a stock speech that I have memorized and can fire out at someone foolish enough to ask a guy like me that kind of question. But, the questions always come when I’m philosophically flat-footed and emotionally tired.
Look, the thing is, I believe that there is a God. A being so big and vast and powerful and beyond my little, tiny mind that even trying to name Him is foolish and arrogant. That I can believe in, no problem. I can believe in the fact that He created the Universe and established the Laws we call science. Sometimes, I’m a little shaky on the whole “sacrificed his only begotten Son” and all that redemption that comes with that, though. I have a hard time believing that a being so huge could care about such an insignificant fly-speck as me. And, that whole concept of “grace”, well… Far easier for me to buy into a God of fire and brimstone who’ll punish me for being bad, than to believe in a loving, caring God who only wants what’s truly best for me.
Still, that is what my faith challenges me to do. Not to forgive others, but, rather, to forgive myself. To forgive the failings that only I see and to have the faith that God has already redeemed my soul, no matter how far I may have strayed in the past. I’ve come too far and seen too many miracles to doubt that it’s possible.
My challenge, then, is to have faith that He has saved, not just my neighbor, but me.
