I sat at
the Hard Rock, sipping a Quilmes Bock, and thinking about faith. Staring at a huge stained glass window and
thought about worship. Thinking about
life. Staring at our heros, the Beatles,
watching a “Doors” video and looking at the picture of Jim Morrison
on the cover of “Rolling Stone”.
A whole wall was devoted to Jimi Hendrix. I could spend all night here, thinking, and
drinking in the ambience. Meditating on
life.
Faith. What is it?
A “Natural Mystic”?
“Purple Haze”?
Sometimes I wonder if our faith is a concrete object, I wonder when
someone has ‘incredible faith’, does it weigh more? (Is incredible faith defined as having more
of a unit of measurement? less doubts? are doubts and faith tied to string theory?
or matter and anti-matter?) Like a big
atlas stone, something that takes tremendous effort to lift and carry. Something that strains the very integrity of
the structure of the end of the gastrointestinal tract? Or is it like a balloon, that we tie on a
string, tie to our wrist so it won’t blow away.
Is faith something to make me happy, a crutch to help me walk? Is faith something that lightens the load, or
is it a ball and chain which slows your walk?
When someone is struggling with
faith, what does this mean? Faith in
yourself? Faith in your faith? If we have faith like a mustard seed…..is
that what faith is, a condiment? Is
faith something you are not allowed to question, that struggling with faith is
a sign of weakness? Of what, faith? Is faith something you name a girl? Is faith sacred, something which is off
limits to joke about? Is faith just the
stimulation of some God area of the brain?
A dopamine rush somewhere in the parietal lobes?
As I push, with, I have learned, an
intensity into faith, I often wonder, where is everyone else? Is ignorance bliss? Is faith lack of worries? Is faith voted on? Passed genetically, attached to the family
name? Mitochondria are given to us by
our mothers, did Jesus have ‘the Son of God’ in the powerhouses of his
cells? I guess I need to know something
before I die, except I haven’t figured out yet what that is (like, what exactly
were dinosaurs? where did they go? was there ever such things as dragons?). Where does my faith end, and where does God’s
faithfulness begin? I doubt it is in the
same spot. Do I have faith in my education,
who I am, and every time that faith falters, where do I pick it up? I have learned that my faith continues to change
shape, continues to play different roles in my life. Is it when my faith is weakest that I finally
can get a taste of grace? And
mercy? I need to know, and as I push,
relationships are strained. Beliefs are
challenged, this is necessary to me, and this is not easy.
I have questions, what does it mean
when someone is “on fire for the Lord”. When someone talks about their
“walk” with Jesus? A walk with
a man that is commemorated in stained glass, who could have been one of the
Beatles, if he wanted to, I am sure.
Faith, does it have anything to do
with right and wrong? The tree of the
knowledge of good and evil? I am told to
spend less time there, to spend more time at the tree of life. The tree that in mercy, I believe this is
CORRECT, God would not let us eat of it after we had separated ourselves from
him by eating of the other one, so in mercy, God allows us to die. Am I wrong, is death mercy? The tree of life, I assume is closely related
to other trees such as coffee, tea, and cocoa.
We need to spend more time at Starbucks!
That is a faith I can understand.
What is the correct way to spend time at the tree of life? Can you do it wrong? Does spending time at the tree of life, and
doing it wrong, bring death?
So I share this journey, because I
am often reminded how much like my dad I am.
Kind of in my own world, doing my own thing, and expecting everyone else
to read my mind. To be in this same
spot, to understand the very thing I am trying to figure out. I have always felt that if anyone could do
something, than so could I. And along
that reasoning, I have figured, if I can do it, so can anyone else. I just assume that is respect, that most
people are truly autonomous (I am not, I truly NEED my wife) and are able, just
unwilling. I get frustrated when others
can’t keep up. I guess I don’t mean to
expect others to live to a standard as measured by me, because I sure as crap
can’t. I just keep trying to figure out
my faith and keep talking about where I want to be, and my struggles on the way
of getting there.
I guess I also truly don’t know how
to ask for help, and usually don’t even know I need help until I am drowning in
failure. I think part of me needs that
struggle, most of me needs to fight, and I guess that is part of what I don’t
understand about faith.
