A sparkling-eyed mind
sits across from me, excited to have an open exchange, to lower the mask my
generation lays over his inquisitive face. He fears what others would do if
only they knew his reality. His mask is
made of God-boxes, of iron-clad truths, of heavy-laden reasons that are
dictated by a narrow Christian view. He
comes longing for an exchange, not for the answers but the freedom to simply
ask his plaguing questions, a step in determining the difference between his
inner world and his outer persona. I
look into these eyes, and I remember my own school-age child learning these
truths as if for the first time:
“God created the earth
in 6 days, and on the 7th He rested.”
“How did he do all of
this in such a quick time? The fossils,
mommy, the dinosaurs?”
“God came down in the
form of a baby.”
“But how can we know for
sure it was God, mommy?”
“Jesus was crucified,
buried, and rose again the third day.”
‘Why did he have to die,
mommy? And how could He rise from the
dead?.”
“The Bible is a divine
book, preserved by God throughout history.”
“But men wrote the Bible,
mommy, like they write book I read?”
I look back into these
expectant eyes, hoping to lend a hand in making sense of what they bring me.
And at times, I am stumped. Today, a
moment of clarity hit and I see in these eyes the depth of disillusionment
carried by this young generation. They
are all around us every week, sitting in our pews, raising their hands in
worship, verbally following the tradition, or not returning to our churches,
perhaps because we have silenced their need to ask the burning questions. And my heart is broken. We are losing the battle raging in their
hearts, doing what we have always done.
The reality is, we cannot make someone believe in our truth. It will not work with pure, theological
debate.
Instead, I am asking of
our older generation to be open to their disclosure and their pressing
questions, not with answers, but with a willingness to sit with them in their
dilemma. They do not know the Christ I
know. The One who encourages through
scripture when I am low, brings a verse to mind when my feet have nigh slipped,
and fills my mouth with truth when I am at a loss. The very basis of faith that I cling to on a
regular basis is in question. We must reach across and start at the beginning,
going back to the source. But isn’t that
what faith is all about? My experience of God dictates that this book of
scripture is much more than literature, a depiction of the Jewish story, a mere
book our ancestors died to preserve and Christians around the world long to
hold a copy. What I am assured of is
the Word of God can handle the scrutiny. It has withstood thousands of
generations. So bring on the questions, friend, bring on the doubt. My God goes before us and this Word will
prevail. Heb 4:12, “the Word of God is
quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the
dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a
discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.”
0 comments:
Post a Comment