Tottering Faith

Tuesday 12/19/2017 6:49 AM

Psalm 62 begins with a statement of fact: “Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.” That all sounds nice and pretty but it seems that David is brought back to reality in a big hurry when you read the following verses in which he talks about being assaulted and being thrown down and describes himself as a leaning wall and a tottering fence.

That sequence can play itself out regularly in my life. When I attend a Sunday worship service or perhaps, a retreat, it is easy to get caught up in the emotions of it all, assured of my faith and confident that I will not be shaken. Then, when the week begins or I come down from the mountaintop high of the retreat, the assaults of life resume the assurance and confidence I had earlier dissolve into the doubt and uncertainty of a leaning wall and tottering fence.

David doesn’t continue wallowing around in doubt and uncertainty. In the next verses he recalls the fact he stated earlier and restates it as an imperative, “Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.”

As I read Psalm 62 this morning I began wondering if something was going to happen soon that would assault my faith and make me doubt God’s goodness. Then I realized that the big catastrophes of life are not always the things that bring doubt. It is often the stresses of my regular routine: work, family life, and social interactions that assail me the most. I would do well to heed David’s example and regularly tell myself, “Find rest in God, your hope comes from him. Trust God. Pour your heart out to God for he is your rock and your refuge.”

Inaction in Action

Thursday 12/14/2017 4:25 AM

In my journal last week I wrote about my lack of action in trying to correct either the blatant or subtle injustices that are evident in our society. I often become aware of policies or practices that are unjust but seldom, if ever, do anything to change them.

In his book Alive in Christ, Maxie Dunnam writes of a conversation he once had with Metropolitan Bloom. “At one point we were talking about the connection between contemplation and action, and I asked Metropolitan Bloom to define contemplation. He responded, ‘Well I think this is where contemplation begins. Sit and listen – in religious terms it may be called waiting on God – but it’s simply listening or looking in order to hear and to understand. If we did that with regard to the Word of God, with regard to the prayers of the saints, with regard to the situations in which we are, to everything people say to us or what they are in life, with regard to our own selves – we would be in that condition which one can call contemplation, which consists in pondering, thinking deeply, in waiting until one has understood in order to act. Then action would be much more efficient, less hasty, and filled, probably, with some amount of the Divine Wisdom.’”

It seems that Bloom suggests that contemplation will lead to action at some point. I get stuck in the contemplation, pondering, and thinking deeply part. Over time I usually have a sense of the action I need to take but lack the courage or the will to act. The times I have obeyed God’s call and acted have resulted in great blessing but I am too often afraid of the negative consequences that may accompany my action. I need to be more trusting of God’s care for me.

Darkness and Quiet

Tuesday 12/12/2017 4:51 AM

Today is my last day of exams for this semester. Along with the last day of the semester comes the grading of exams, posting final grades, and then begin planning for the new semester beginning in three short weeks. I hope to finish writing my syllabi, planning my lecture and homework schedules, and making my lesson plans for the first week of the new semester within the next week or two so I can really have a relaxing time when Ryan and Kate and their kids come for Christmas. I’m teaching multivariable calculus again next semester and I have some new ideas to try out so the work for that class will be a little more intense.

As the years pass the time seems to move more quickly and technologies and teaching methods change while my energy level and stamina seems to diminish. The combination of those two things leaves me feeling more overwhelmed and intimidated with each new semester. I find that I need to be more intentional in my planning and more disciplined in doing my work or time slips away and I end up flying by the seat of my pants. I’m not a big fan of change. I prefer things to be the same as they’ve always been.

My relationship with God also goes through times of change. Sometimes I feel as if God is really moving in my life while at other times my relationship with God stagnates. Maria Boulding describes this process in her book, The Coming of God. She writes, “For those who pray regularly the time may come fairly soon when particular thought or words no long seem to help. Prayer seems to have gone dead. The relationship is moving into a new phase, and you have to change gear. At other times you may be able to find as much inspiration as ever in the Scriptures, in thinking about God and in the experiences that generally mediate his word to you, but when you try any of this in the time of prayer, you have the impression that this and real prayer are mutually exclusive. … Provided that you are refusing God nothing, you can probably trust the inclination to let it ride a bit. Wait in silence, attentiveness, stillness, just aware of God in some dim way and of your need of [God], but without particular efforts to formulate ideas or words, except perhaps just to bring yourself gently back when you stray. It is baffling and disconcerting, but in some way all-important to you to stay there like that in darkness and quiet.”

Just like in my teaching, I do not like change in my relationship with God. I am a creature of habit and routine and when my normal routine of spending time with God no longer seems to be effective in hearing from God I find it disconcerting. Maria Boulding suggests it is important for me to stay in the darkness and quiet. I would prefer not to do so.