Just when I think I’m comfortable with my own level of spirituality, I meet old friends who make me question what the heck I’m doing. They don’t state it that way, of course. They are just being their old sweet selves, but the fact that they seem so certain about what they believe, and they seem so much the same as they ever were makes me question my own ever-present questioning state of mind.
I have just come out of a period of deep spiritual distress. I was unsure about many things regarding my own spirituality, and whether I could even continue to call myself a Christian . That is “Christian” in the sense of being a rather garden-variety conservative Christian.
Several of my views on the basic precepts of what I would consider traditional Christianity have changed. One of them is the idea of heaven and hell. The first question is, do they exist? My eventual conclusion was: yes, and no.
Does the self continue in some form after this life is over? I do believe in some kind of afterlife, although what that is like is something I have a difficult time conceptualizing. The first reason I believe that there is an afterlife is that it would be intolerable for me to believe that this life is all there is, and that I will not see those that I love on the “other side.” Secondly, the strength of my own self awareness convinces me that something of myself must continue, even after this physical body stops to function.
This is all very subjective, I know.
Heaven and hell, and their existence? After a lifetime of attending churches that believe in a literal hell, and much painful deliberation, I believe that a loving God, whom I believe I know well, wouldn’t send his beloved creations to hell. I have been exposed to a very diverse cross-section of the human race, and many people who are not Christians, but who are members of other faiths. These are very devout and morally good people. For them, the way to God is not through Jesus, as it is for me. I believe that they still have a relationship with God, and they are pursuing righteousness in the way that they have been taught. That does not equal a one-way ticket to hell. Does hell exist? It may, but I don’t think that I know anyone who is going there.
My spiritual journey so far has resulted in my finally ending up as a member of a very non-judgmental church, that lets people be themselves spiritually, within the context of “belief in Christ as your savior.” It doesn’t try to tell them whether or not women should be in the ministry, or whether it is a sin to be gay. In short, it doesn’t take any other socio-political stands, because that is not the business of the church. And I very much agree with this position. I’m comfortable to be a plain old Christian in this church, and believe what I have come to believe.
On to the next part of my conundrum: those people I have encountered recently from my past spiritual existence who have said things that have again made me question myself.
The most recent was when Sarah and I were having a mother-daughter date on Boxing Day. We were killing time in Barnes and Noble, waiting to go to a movie, when I recognized someone from one of our old churches. I can only characterize our time at this church as an “okay” time. We were transitioning, via a merge, into a new church, and our beloved pastor was backing away from his former ministry, and going on to the next phase of what he felt God was calling him to.
Debbie and her husband, Steve, had four children, starting at about the age of our youngest. When I said hi to her in B&N, at first Debbie didn’t even remember me, which was in itself a strange thing. But even stranger was her way of asking how we were doing? “Still living for the Lord?” she asked. Now, that set me back on my heels. I know that Sarah was feeling the same way. Living for the Lord. My outward response was, “Sure!” but my inward one was “WTF! Who else would I be living for?“ What did Debbie expect? For us to say that we were shameless backsliders, who no longer believed?
Living for the Lord. What is it exactly? I think that is something we each have to decide for ourselves. She may have thought she knew what it was… and maybe she did know what it was, for herself. I think I know what it is for myself. But chances are (and I would be willing to bet on this!) that we would not have the same answer.
This chance meeting notwithstanding, Debbie was not, and is not a close friend. She is merely someone who attended the same church as I did a number of years ago, and with whom I had very little interaction. So I could care less about her opinion of me. However, on New Year’s Eve, Eric and I got together with some old and dear friends of ours, people we have known since we have been married -- approximately 30 years. The opinion of such people in regard to my spirituality is something else -- something I would pay attention to.
Our spiritual conversation during the evening was in two parts, and the topics were:
• Evangelism as the most important calling of a Christian
• The theology of the pastor of one of our couples (who used to be our pastor), and their searching for something else, in the way of a church affiliation.
I will start with the question of evangelism. The person who brought this subject up had been reading works on the life of D.L. Moody, who stated that evangelism was the most important thing that any Christian should do. D.L. Moody would share his faith with at least one person each day. He made a point of going out on the streets and seeking people to talk to about their salvation. It was said that if he was ready to go to bed, and realized that he hadn’t had one such conversation in the course of his day, he would immediately go out onto the streets, find someone, and have that conversation. And by extension, stated my friend, all of us should live this way.
I think that D.L. Moody was a wonderful person. He certainly had an impact on the spirituality of our country in his time. However, is evangelism the calling of every Christian? And if you aren’t out on the streets handing out tracts, or knocking on doors to share the gospel in some way, are you a failure as a Christian? In other words, do we all have this calling, and should it always be done the same way, by overtly looking for openings to share our faith?
My answer to this last question would be no, and no. I don’t think that I have the calling of an evangelist. I do think that I’m called to live my Christian life with integrity, and that I should be prepared to share what I believe with others, if and when the subject arises. And it has been my experience that if you are an open and transparent person, the subject will arise.
Everyone who knows me knows that I’m a churchgoer. I don’t hide that fact, and I sometimes go out of my way to make people aware of it. It is their decision what to do with that knowledge. If they want to engage me in conversation, they may. I believe in a kind of lifestyle evangelism. That doesn’t mean living my life in a holier-than-thou way, but in living it with a joyful integrity. People can smell insincerity and hypocrisy from a mile away, and for me to force myself into the Evangelism Explosion mold would not only endanger my job, but it would also be very fake.
The second topic was one that I look forward to exploring more with the other friends who brought it up. They have been so fully committed to the churches they have attended, that it must be a new experience altogether for them to explore a totally different expression of spirituality. They are reading books about it, and I don’t know what else they are doing, but it will be an interesting journey to watch.
And that is just it. It is a journey for all of us, and a very individual one at that.
