Faith

Faith

“Faith means receiving God. It means being overwhelmed by God. Faith helps us find trust again and again when, from a human point of view, the foundations of truth have been destroyed. It gives us eyes to see what cannot be seen, and hands to grasp what cannot be touched, although it is present always and everywhere.”—Eberhard Arnold in Why We Live in Community (Plough, 2014).

The supper at Emmaus. Caravaggio

Faith is believing in something we cannot see or understand. The mind takes us to a certain level of belief, but then faith must be present for us to take the leap from there. My favorite quote about faith, attributed to a multitude of people, is: “The opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty.” If we are so sure about something, we have crossed back over that line, away from the place where faith abides.

This gives all of us doubters great comfort. In fact, we know that our doubts lead us into deeper faith—across the line, down new pathways, and sometimes even onto major highways. We may take a wrong turn, run a red light and hit someone, or become completely lost.

Then, that stranger who met us on the road to Emmaus shows up. He may remind us of a quote from Scripture that was meaningful to us in the past. He may ask us if we remember how we have been continually cared for by the God of our understanding and by God’s stand-ins, our community, and our friends. He constantly feeds us precisely what we need to continue the journey, and before he disappears, he leaves on the dinner table a GPS.

Healing our Hearts Through Forgiveness

Nouwen: Healing Our Hearts Through Forgiveness 

“How can we forgive those who do not want to be forgiven? But if our condition for giving forgiveness is that it will be received, we seldom will forgive! Forgiving the other is an act that removes anger, bitterness, and the desire for revenge from our hearts. Forgiving others is first and foremost healing our own hearts.”—Henri Nouwen in Bread for the Journey (HarperSanFrancisco, 1997).

jennifer

Several years ago, I was with an amazing group of women in Searcy, Arkansas, as we talked about forgiveness. One of the first questions from two women was, “How can I forgive someone who has harmed me or someone I love when they do not see they have done any wrong?”

These are the most complex hurts for me to forgive as well. We think we are doing fine, but then we hear how the people involved see no wrongdoing on their part, and an angry dragon rears his head again. This anger is nothing like our initial reaction, but still endangers our body, mind, and soul. We are allowing the people and the situation to continue to harm us—unless we can transform that energy into something useful for our body and the world.

I think of a small church-related school that many friends were part of that closed overnight. After several years, most of us have worked through the disappointment and have moved on. We will all carry a scar, but for the most part, the wound is healing.

Most of us decided that if we cannot forgive those involved in the closing or those who did nothing to prevent it, they are still hurting us. They occupy space in our minds, lives, bodies, and relationships with others. We all have prayed to transform this hurt’s enormous energy into something positive. We are all now discovering gold—deep down below this pain.

I often go to a place where I remember the children, teachers, and school board singing and carrying small lighted candles through their tears as they walked out into the world in pairs at the conclusion of the school’s last graduation. What I cherish every day is the light that each of those involved at this school now brings to many other schools, homes, churches, and places of work.

We have been sent out to share what we learned from that experience: the relationships, the love, the kindness to others, the acceptance of differences, and the belief in a loving God. For example, Jennifer, in the upper picture, who was on the school board, is now changing more lives as executive director of City Year in Little Rock. In the lower picture is Beth Maze, the school chaplain, who now leads formation at St. Paul’s in Fayetteville, the largest church in our diocese.

There was so much light radiating from that school. That is why it was so hard to leave. But now, we are commissioned to carry the light we received there out into the larger world. We can make a difference in so many other lives, and so many continue to do simply that.

beth

Practicing what we Preach

 How to Practice What We Preach

“If mainstream Christianity has steadily lost force and credibility, I wonder how much might be attributed to that we preach one gospel and live another. We preach the Good Samaritan and lock our church doors. We preach the lilies of the field and allocate large amounts of our monthly paychecks to pension and insurance plans.”—Cynthia Bourgeault in Mystical Hope (Cowley, 2001).

This is the old story of practicing what we preach. We talk one way, but act another. My experience is that much of what we do is unconscious. We see ourselves as good and caring people. A particular belief is part of our core values, but our society speaks against it or does not value it. This gives us excuses or wiggle room, so we don’t have to follow through.

My experience is that fear and the scarcity/zero-sum mentality most often keep us from being the person God created us to be. As a result, we cannot act on what we know at our core is true. We fear we will not have enough money. We worry someone will break in and steal what we already have. We fear our health will fail. We experience anxiety over the thought of being left alone, abandoned, or harmed. We fear that speaking out for what we believe will cause us to lose friends or even our job.

Being grateful and expressing thanksgiving for what we have is one of the best ways to journey out of a fear-based life. This offers us a daily reminder of how much God cares for us, loves us, and is always beside us.

When I am most fearful, I rise early in the morning and watch the sunrise as I acknowledge the fear inside of me and make a gratitude list of how I have been cared for and loved. Out of deep darkness comes overwhelming light. God gives us fresh hope, a fresh start, each day. Resurrection comes out of the darkness when we have the courage to look fear in the eye and realize the blessings and gifts we have been given.

Living out of gratitude rather than fear can help us practice what we preach.

Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/