An Easter message for those who are doubting
Questioning your faith, or allowing it to be questioned, is a much different experience at 40 years old than at 20. Recently, I had a conversation with two men, ages 19 and 26. There was a healthy skepticism and a wisdom there that I cannot imagine having had when I was their age. One thing we noted was that they have grown up with the internet, and their childhoods have evolved alongside of social media. In their generation, the questions “Is this real?” and “Is this true?” are essential to their survival and maturation. They are growing up having to question everything they see and hear because in the age of twitter and filters and catfishing and fake news, they genuinely do not know what to believe. AND, unlike those of us who grew up researching the outdated Encyclopedia Brittanicas on our family bookshelf, these generations can have a multitude of diverse answers and opinions at their fingertips within seconds.
When I was a kid, my father’s word was law, my pastor’s word was truth. There was a limit to the amount of personal research and questioning I could do without alerting everyone to my doubts. And, if I had doubted and walked away from my faith as a teenager, my entire world would have been threatened. I don’t know who I would have turned to if, suddenly, I decided I no longer believed in God. My parents would have been disappointed, I would have lost my friends, my hobbies, my status as Bible Club President, nursery worker, sunday school teacher… my personal reputation would have been shot. And, while there are still consequences for kids today who leave their faith, thank goodness for the internet. There are Discord chats and Instagram accounts and Whats App and any number of other ways for people to connect outside of their local communities. A young person might still feel desperately alone, but at least they can know they are not the only one going through such an experience.
The 19 year-old said that people his age kind of see Christianity as “dying out.” From where I stand, now, I feel a sense of deep sadness and grief over that sentiment, but also great relief and hope and gratitude that the judgmental toxic aspects of religion might be coming to the end of their terrible reign.
I left our conversation feeling waves of compassion wash over me for people who consider themselves strong Christians and are feeling like their religion is dying; feeling like the young people are being led astray and soon all the hope and love and comfort and truth and salvation that Jesus has provided will be rejected by these next generations. And I can see the fear rising up in the Christian community – the anger coming out towards those who have/are deconstructing their faith, the violence and desperation surrounding abortion laws and political candidates; the digging-in-of-heels on the literal truth of scripture and the need to stand firm in the midst of a sinful culture hellbent on accepting gender fluidity and all kinds of abnormal and unholy behavior. These are the actions and attitudes of a desperate empire that sees its defenses weakening.
And I stand as both a citizen of that empire and as one who is content to watch it fall.
I know that, for older people – my generation and above – this decline of Christianity can seem so scary, so wrong, so BAD. You can feel like your entire way of life is being threatened. You can feel like you’re not safe. You can feel persecuted. This world that had been a cozy, comfortable place when your faith appeared to be the norm; when you could talk to people freely and the concepts of God and sin were widely understood and accepted; when going to church on Sunday was what everyone did, this new shift away from all of that can feel like your very way of life is falling apart. And THAT is enough to make anyone feel like they’re being backed into a corner and have to fight their way out.
And at our age, there is so much more at stake: our marriages, our children, our careers, our communities, all the ways we have labeled ourselves and all the ideas and judgments we’ve aligned ourselves with for so long… If you do have doubts or are starting to question, it takes A LOT of courage to admit it. And even more courage to actively change who you always thought you were.
You have to be brave enough to put the old you, the familiar you, up on the cross. You have to be willing to enter into the unknown and to discover what is left when all that you’ve trusted and relied on is no longer reliable or trustworthy.
Many people don’t have that courage, or maybe they believe that there is too much at stake for them to take that leap. They may secretly live with their doubts for years or decades, unable to let anyone else know what is going on inside of them.
And this, I think, is the real crux – lack of belief threatens our belonging. If we admit our doubts or voice our questions, we might no longer be acceptable to our spouse, or our parents, or at our job, or in our friend groups. So what we value most, really, is the belonging, NOT the belief.
And Jesus knew that. That’s why he said things like, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14:25,26.
The call of the cross is to let go of everything you think you need to survive – your beliefs, your belonging, your community, your judgments, your ideas about right/wrong, good/bad – and die to yourself. Everything you think makes you YOU. Give it all up. Including your faith. Including your ideas about God. Including your ideas about Jesus. Including your ideas about the Bible. All these concepts that you’ve piled up, higher and higher, and now point to and say “That’s ME,” burn them up. Let them drift away in the wind. Let them dissolve. Pin them to the cross and say, “I surrender ALL.”
It will feel like death.
It may kill friendships and relationships and hopes and dreams and judgments.
But it is the way of the cross.
It is what it means to be a true disciple of Jesus.
Do you love Jesus and God enough to let all your ideas and judgments and thoughts and “knowledge” and certainty about them DIE?
Or do you only want the resurrection without the death?
Jesus’s “sacrifice” teaches us that all our ideas and beliefs about who we are can DIE and only THEN can the beauty of who we truly are shine forth.
If you’re doubting or questioning, I don’t want to diminish the difficulties of that or the fears that are there. But I do want to tell you that there is freedom and peace and joy on the other side, and actually, a deeper, sweeter understanding of who Jesus is that feels more true and real than sitting in church on Easter Sunday and wondering if its all just a load of crap.
