I was standing in a gift shop across the counter from a Franciscan Monk at the Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Land in the DC area. I was asking the man about his spiritual journey, how he'd come to be a Franciscan, and where life had led him since. The conversation turned to my journey, and I explained that I often called myself an atheist, but that I wasn't sure the term was quite accurate, and that in any case, I'd recently been convinced that much of what Jesus has to say about loving others is quite revolutionary. This was part of the reason I was visiting the monastery.
An Altar inside the Monastery
Through our conversation, the Franciscan seemed to develop the compassion for strangers that we sometimes do when realize just how much humanity we share. Upon realizing that I was, for all my interest in spirituality and even in Jesus, not religious, tears welled up in his eyes.
"You have to have faith," he explained to me in a concerned tone. I could tell that this was out of love, but I didn't know how to respond. I wanted to be honest. He deserved that. So, I asked, "what is faith?"
He seemed somewhat stunned by the question. I don't recall his answer, but I do remember wanting to be impressed or enlightened by it, and being disappointed instead. He couldn't tell me what faith was, and I honestly don't know what it is. I know what some people mean by the term. Some people mean that there are questions that I'm supposed to ask, and questions that I'm not supposed to ask. If they're Pentecostal, they want me to ask the questions that will lead to me being their brand of Pentecostal, rather than the questions that might lead me to be a Baptist. They expect me to value their answers to these questions over and above the answers that other groups might have. When that doesn't work, they just want me to believe. What they want is loyalty to a group rather than an actual belief in a set of ideas. For these people, whatever their brand, Christian, Muslim or Jew, I'm just supposed to believe whatever it was they were probably taught in kindergarten, unless of course their group has changed it's opinions since then, in which case I'm supposed to adopt the most recent theological adaptations. I don't think the Franciscan meant this when he was talking about faith. Whether he did or not, many of the faithful people I know certainly don't mean that.
The main Altar inside the Sanctuary of the Monastery
It intrigues me.
I sometimes wonder if what they really mean is that I ought to believe that there's something more, and accept the experiences I've had that suggest that possibility. I have had experiences that suggest that possibility. Some of them were answered prayers, like my sister being saved from a kidnapper. I literally prayed to find her after she'd been taken, and against all odds, I actually did. It's unreal to me even today. I've also felt what I think most Christians consider to be the presence of God in a variety of places.
The problem is that my experiences don't fit any particular set of dogmas. I don't know what to do with them. It's possible that finding my sister was a complete coincidence. That's difficult for me to believe, given the circumstances. I have no clue. Even if I am to count it towards the existence of something supernatural, what would I interpret it to mean?
The same goes with feeling the presence of God. Am I the only person who gets this feeling? It fills my whole body with a tingling sensation. It warms my heart and empties my mind. It's not like anything else I can describe. I don't think I'm the only one who gets this feeling that I've felt among a variety of religious communities. I felt it among Christians, Baha'is, Hindus, and others. Does this say something about God or does it say something about us? Maybe it's a biological response to community building.
I don't know. I won't pretend.
It could be that there really is some divine Spirit. It's also possible that these experiences are simply misinterpretations of stimuli on my part, and also on the part of others. I expect to keep searching, however skeptically, with some portion of the time allotted to me. I don't expect to be any more successful in my search than anyone who has gone before me. I hope that if there is a God, that God is smart enough to know that I'm stupid, and good enough to be merciful on that account. I know that even if I knew what faith were and had it in abundance, it would probably be in the wrong thing, so I'd still be depending on a God that was both smarter and kinder than myself. Of course, it's always possible that God is a brute. Look at the world.
I'm curious as to the experiences others have had and how they interpret them. If you're willing to share a story or two, please do. If you're willing, share your current religious status in the story. I'd be interested to hear from people of different backgrounds, and I think anyone who has read this far will probably share that same curiosity.
Cheers!
(All Photos taken by the author)