A Confession

Maybe I have been trying too hard to speak your language.

But I want you to understand something; that as your faith (or heart) is guided by your beliefs—or worldview, or whatever you wish you to name it—so is mine. My heart and mind walk hand-in-hand because only when they are together do I know wisdom: how to not only grasp and seek to understand truth, but to live consciously, proactively, and courageously by it.

My foundational and ultimate truth is that YHWH, God, the Creator of the Universe, desires an intimate relationship with me, with all Mankind. Since I was a child, I have chosen to embrace that love—to follow it. That path is mysterious, beautiful, often difficult and uncertain due to internal and external influences. But I do not walk it alone.

The Spirit of God walks with me, teaches me through God’s Word—the words of shepherds, kings, poets, prophets, and fishermen who communed with Him; with, above all, Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ (savior) who was God incarnate in the land of Palestine centuries ago; with Jesus’ disciples who sought to share and understand his teaching; with the many who have followed Jesus since then. The Holy Spirit is real, powerful, inspiring, and peace-giving. God.

Such love fills the infinite well of goodness in my heart. I feel deeply, but I also think deeply. Heart and mind together, as a whole man, I thus “put myself out there” each day, seizing each opportunity as best as I can. That does not mean that I do so well, or that by being myself I am accepted by everyone I meet. Sometimes in giving myself so freely, so openly—without most reservations—I can overwhelm them. They do not know what to do with me, or what to make of me. Can I be trusted?

I am not entirely free from doubt or mistrust myself. My life is textured with many scars.

Sometimes I even feel like a shadow. In giving myself entirely to God, I wonder what is left that is truly me. But then I remember how God has equipped and is equipping me for life. I am a writer, musician, photographer—an artist. I am an athlete, outdoor adventurer, coach, and teacher. These are just a few of my points of connection with the world, presumably the most fruitful gardens of my work. I pour my life and love into them. They help shape meaning and purpose. I want to know as many people as I can, share as much of life as we can together—to affirm that love and community are real.

But even if it is not me that someone wants, I am confident in the love and intimacy I share with God. He is both within my heart and without: present everywhere. I am never alone, nor need to be afraid. I know that I am loved unconditionally by the Creator of the Universe, manifested in glimpses and caresses by His creation: people, nature, everything. I long for everyone to know such tender, inspiring love, such beauty. It is the foundational rock of my faith. My soul stands upon that kind of vigor. I pray that what I build upon it is a light to others.

One of the main lessons from Jesus is to love one another as he loved us. While we need not necessarily do so exactly as he did—i.e. suffer and die, for there can only be one ultimate savior—the principle truth is that of serving each other. Jesus symbolized this by washing his disciples’ feet, which was a humble service in his culture.

As I follow Jesus; to “put myself out there”, therefore, means to begin loving in the framework of service. This is apparently countercultural. Putting the needs of others before myself, seeking first to understand before being understood, is enigmatic to some and suspicious to others. Do I have an ulterior motive, they might ask? Too often, I likely do. Nevertheless, God’s grace gives me the capacity to forgive myself. Thus I have an infinite well of love to draw from as I seek to share that gift with others. For the nature of a gift is that it must be shared.

Many do not take it. They do not understand what I am offering. They still distrust it. Who serves others unconditionally, after all? Well, Jesus did, and he is my inspiration and guide. But most people rejected and reject Jesus, so should I be surprised if I meet the same withdrawal? The challenges are usually subtle, at times confused by my own selfishness (longing and expectations) and pride (ego). But that does not mean that I should give up.

My heart may ache, nay grieve; I may become weary with doubts, but I find resolve in the hope that I can ultimately overcome because Jesus overcame everything, including death. Death no longer has any mastery over my life. My body will die, but my spirit will live until reunited with a resurrected body. Life will be plagued with sorrow for a while, but that is not the end of the story. In Jesus, there is true triumph, peace, and love. It has already begun to permeate the world. It will be fulfilled completely, unendingly, when Jesus returns to reclaim this world from the Enemy who takes advantage of our human frailty. In the meantime, my identity is fundamentally in Jesus Christ, in faith in his promises. In God. I nurture hope and courage—confidence—in that trust, in that present relationship.

God is here with me now. Sometimes he speaks in words; more often He whispers in more mysterious languages: sight, sounds, touch, taste, the spirit. Most of these messages come through people, His people—any person, whether they realize it or not. He has certainly done so through you. I praise Him for that. I praise Him for you.

I pray for you, for all that you dream to give to people, to be, and to do. That it is good. Know that you are loved; ultimately not because of what you do, but because of who you are. I love you, and I am sure that many feel the same. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing.

I do not expect you to understand all of this. I do not expect you to respond. I just want to “be my true self” once more, offering limited words when action and presence are not available. I want you to begin to grasp that I do not live in fear or desperate need; that I am at peace, aware of both my strengths and weaknesses—seeing beauty and potential in both. As I see in you. As I see in everyone.

Therefore, may God bless you and keep you. May His face shine upon you and give you peace. Now and forevermore.

Amen.

The Problem of Good

For the disciple of Jesus Christ[1], what is the most strategic way to talk about God with one who does not believe? For example, should I aim to first convince him of God’s existence, or should I instead begin by sharing the Gospel, convincing the unbeliever of his need for God?

Limitations

In determining the framework of such a challenging and somewhat elusive subject as God[2], I suspect that the most productive discussions are built on some awareness of each other’s story. This is a root of identity. For example, the initial emphasis of the conversation should not necessarily be on what my, your, or her view of God is, but perhaps how you, she, and I have come to uphold such a view. In other words, what has influenced one’s current conclusions?

The influence of parents, friends, schooling, ethnicity, culture, religion, other religious practitioners; all of these and more contribute to one’s understanding of the world—or rejection of it. This could begin to be defined as worldview, though it is really more expansive than that. It is about accepting truth as neither fully objective nor subjective; that one’s faith or belief is inseparable from his perception of reality. In short, it a conversation built on an awareness of personal limitations.

This awareness should humble my perspective; open it to new ideas, all the while helping quell my ego. In an environment where each person nurtures such openness, there can be productive conversation. Where ego rules, however, there can be none.  

Humility opens me to not only knowing myself better, but to also knowing others—to live in relationship with the potential of community. In a way, potential is like faith. Relationship deepens awareness, furthering understanding. Moreover, understanding can motivate and be motivated by love, which flows from a well of compassion, grace, and a myriad of other mysteries.

In other words, if I dare to know love, I dare to know truth. To pursue understanding and allow it to mature into conscious action (i.e. wisdom) requires courage, but relationship ultimately bolsters courage. Courage influences action. Round and round the stories go, action transforming potential into purpose.

The point is that purpose and relationship are intertwined, which is what helps define values. At the soul of every human being is a common value. Humanity fundamentally shares the same need, or looks toward the same horizon. The language that defines such a need or horizon is what seems to differ the most—whether called love, success, happiness, peace, etc.—which too often conflicts peoples’ understanding of a gift like potential.

Nevertheless, by beginning to recognize each other’s story and limitations as well as how they relate to each other’s potential, purpose, and values—hopefully building community in that awareness—we may begin at last to approach life’s challenging questions with a readiness for healthy discourse, the process of which not only further informs value, but reveals new layers of purpose, potential, and limitations.

Mediums

Most will readily admit that other people influence individual identity. Academically, there are numerous additional ways of trying to further understand such influence, reaching beyond an awareness of one’s identity to broader spheres of the human story through the study of history, sociology, and psychology; or through an exploration of Nature—the space and natural environments we live in—employing reason (e.g. science, philosophy); or by unleashing inclination (e.g. art, athletics).

Many of these mediums are not exclusive to one another, including religion, and all can be thought of as means to furthering wisdom. Still, such realms of study and/or practice leave gaps of understanding. So what shall I do with the lingering uncertainty—the mysterious and unknown?

For the most part, each of us approaches relationships and the aforementioned mediums based on having already concluded one fundamental question: Does God exist?

Problems

Most people struggle with the existence of God because of the evil in the world. In fact, this so-called “problem of evil” also makes many Christian theologians uneasy. There are surges of heated internal debate about how to reconcile the nature of evil with God’s proclaimed goodness and omnipotence. Either way, while some people try to deny the existence of evil, which is practically and logically refutable on most accounts, most people do at least recognize its manifestation in the world—that things are not always right, or feel unbalanced and brutish at times.

Still, I wonder if a conversation about God’s existence needs to be preceded with another question: Do evil and good exist?

If such a question is answered affirmatively then another nuanced one takes form: Is Man inherently good or evil? If Man is inherently evil, but good exists, where does good come from? Or if Man is inherently good, wheredoes evil comes from?

Either way, the tension between good and evil needs to be addressed.

For example, the premise of the so-called “problem of evil” is essentially, Why does evil befall good people? Or why do good people suffer? The problem becomes almost inseparable from a question of God’s existence, particularly His nature. God either exists, but is not good due to the evil He inflicts or allows. Or if He is good, He is passive or weak against another supernatural force that can be called or that stirs evil, therefore leaving God undeserving of worship.

To reconcile God’s goodness with the presence of evil inevitably steers the conversation to discussing the specific attributes of God, especially His will. There is a belief in some Christian communities that God controls all things that happen in this world—the so-called “will of God”—which suggests His active choice to inflict pain on someone or not, for example. I discern this to be a source of most peoples’ problem with God. It is the premise of the problem of evil. This premise, however, can be shown as misleading and overly problematic. There is another way of thinking.

Regardless, the point is that God’s nature, namely his influence in the world, is one of the greatest barriers to not only belief in His existence, but faith in His purpose and the worship of Him as a result.[3]

But what if the original follow-up question focuses not on the problem of evil, but instead on what I will call “the problem of good”[4]? For example, If God exists (or does not exist), then why is there any good in the world? This stresses the framework of the conversation in a different way than the problem of evil.

Framework

Without delving into the layers of answers to the question of God’s existence, or even the problem of good, I am here rather trying to focus solely on a way to frame a conversation about God with an unbeliever.

As I wrote in the beginning, it should not be done hastily or simply. It first requires an awareness of human stories and how they shape the purpose and values of human actions, individual or communal.

Concerning the original question of where to start the conversation—Should I first discuss God’s existence or the Gospel?—I suggest that it depends not only on the guidance of the aforementioned limitations, but on the direction taken in response to the aforementioned problems, which include the question of good.

From there, there are worlds of possibilities to explore: light shining down on an ever-expanding horizon of wonder and mystery.

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[1] A.k.a. Christ-follower, a.k.a. Christian, a.k.a. Believer.

[2] Assuming that the subject has been welcomed to the conversation as opposed to being forced upon it belligerently.

[3] The Bible offers glimpses into that purpose, though the interpretation of the text unfortunately remains a divisive rather than diversifying factor between many churches (i.e. Christian communities).

[4] While I phrased “the problem of good” on my own, it unsurprisingly turns out that the concept is not new to intellectual discourse. A simple search online yields a number of articles, most of which apparently focus on questions of morality, one fascinating one of which can be found here. I am heartened, however, to realize that my concluding framework is not lessened by its late entry into the conversation.