The Rev. Joshua Mason Pawelek –
“I know this rose will open.”[1] I am a person of faith. “I know my fear will burn away.” I am a person of faith. “I know my soul will unfurl its wings.” I am a person of faith.
Our theological theme for November is faith. This morning I offer my reflections on what it means to be a person of faith and what it means to mature in one’s faith. To begin I want to dispense with the most widely-held understanding of faith in our culture, the idea that we have faith when we believe something is true and real despite having no way to prove it. Let us dispense with the idea that we have faith when we adhere to the doctrines of a religious tradition despite having no reliable evidence for the truth of those doctrines. If you hear me say nothing else this morning, hear this: a life of faith does not require belief in the unbelievable.
Certainly ‘belief without evidence’ is a valid definition of faith. We find some version of it in any dictionary. Not everything we believe must have a rational explanation. There is a place for ‘belief without evidence’ in our spiritual lives. Yet, ultimately, ‘belief without evidence’ is only a small part of what it means to have faith and not even a necessary part at that. Faith is bigger and broader, deeper and wider than ‘belief without evidence.’ It is quite possible to be a person of profound faith who also rejects religious propositions for which there is no proof beyond the pronouncements of priests or the sayings of scriptures. In fact, one’s longing and one’s capacity to question those pronouncements and sayings, to critique the doctrines of one’s tradition, to recognize “I need something more reliable before I can accept this idea as true”—while some argue these are signs of a loss of faith, I contend these are signs of maturing, growing, deepening faith.
In 2005 I had the privilege to hear Sharon Salzberg speak to a gathering of Unitarian Universalist ministers. Some of you know her work. She is a highly renowned meditation instructor and co-founder of the Insight Meditation Society in Barre, MA. She spoke about her 2002 book, Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experience. I want you to hear what Salzberg writes about faith because she, more than any other spiritual practitioner, has helped me claim my own identity as a person of faith. She writes:
One day a friend called to ask if we could meet for tea. Knowing that I was writing a book on faith from the Buddhist perspective, she was confused and wanted to talk. “How can you possibly be writing a book on faith without focusing on God?” she demanded. “Isn’t that the whole point?” Her concern spoke to the common understanding we have of faith—that it is synonymous with religious adherence. But the tendency to equate faith with doctrine, and then argue about terminology and concepts, distracts us from what faith is actually about. In my understanding, whether faith is connected to a deity or not, its essence lies in trusting ourselves to discover the deepest truths on which we can rely.[2]
Further: I want to invite a new use of the word faith, one that is not associated with a dogmatic religious interpretation or divisiveness. I want to encourage delight in the word, to help reclaim faith as fresh, vibrant, intelligent and liberating. This is a faith that emphasizes a foundation of love and respect for ourselves. It is a faith that uncovers our connection to others, rather than designating anyone as separate and apart.[3]
And finally: The Buddha said, “Faith is the beginning of all good things.” No matter what we encounter in life…faith…enables us to try again, to trust again, to love again. Even in times of immense suffering…faith…enables us to relate to the present moment in such a way that we can go on, we can move forward, instead of becoming lost in resignation or despair…. A capacity for this type of faith is inherent in every human being. We might not recognize it or know how to nurture it, but we can learn to do both.[4]
There are exceptions to what I am about to say, but generally speaking, this faith Salzberg teaches and which I describe as more mature than ‘belief without evidence’—this learning to look deep inside—this is not the faith of children. Last Monday night I was focused on the task of making dinner. Mason was doing homework at the kitchen table. Max was looking at a puzzle of a map of North America we had put together earlier. He was peppering me with questions about who lives where. “Who lives in Connecticut?” “We do.” “Who lives in Canada?” “Canadians.” “Who lives at the North Pole?” “Oh, nobody lives at the North Pole.” An uncanny silence fell over the room. I looked over at my boys. They were both staring at me, frozen, jaws dropped. “What?” I said, “Oh! I mean, nobody lives right on the North Pole. You can’t live on a pole. But, yeah, right south of there, definitely, yes, elves, reindeer, factories. Very populous. Very busy.” They went back to what they were doing, greatly relieved.
We expect children to believe the unbelievable, the miraculous, the fantastic. We expect them to believe without evidence. They don’t grasp the distinction between fiction and non-fiction. They blur the lines between fantasy and reality—and this is developmentally appropriate! People study this, write books about it. One of the most famous faith development studies is James Fowler’s 1981 Stages of Faith.[5] Stage one, ages three to seven, Intuitive-Projective faith: Fantasy-filled, imitative phase in which the child can be powerfully and permanently influenced by examples, moods, actions and stories of the visible faith of primarily related adults.”[6] Indeed, most children can’t imagine their parents or caregivers—let alone their entire society—deliberately fabricating a hoax, especially about something as special and miraculous as elves and reindeer at the North Pole. We expect them to believe, with little or no questioning, the things we invite them to believe.
Stage 2, elementary school age, Mythic-Literal faith: the child “begins to take on for him or herself the stories, beliefs and observances that symbolize belonging to his or her community. Beliefs are appropriated with literal interpretations, as are moral rules and attitudes.”[7] Acknowledging exceptions, the faith of elementary school-aged children is characterized by a willingness to believe without evidence. We tell them stories with larger-than-life characters and simple, clear lessons about right and wrong. They respond to the characters with sympathy or derision and they develop, in most cases, simple, clear conceptions of right and wrong. This is the faith of children. There’s no tension yet between what we ask them to believe and what strikes them in their hearts as true. There’s no intellectual or spiritual dissonance. And we work hard to keep it that way.
Recall Fleur Adcock’s poem “For a Five-Year-Old.” She writes, “I see, then, that a kind of faith prevails,”[8] meaning that my child accepts me, my stories and my teachings without question. My child takes me literally. And yet there is a world just beyond the child’s awareness—a messy, cruel, unjust, confusing, contingent, violent world with which the mother—like all of us—negotiates constantly—and in which the mother—like all of us—participates constantly—and which she has kept hidden from her child so that this child-like faith might prevail. “Your gentleness is moulded still by words / from me, who have trapped mice and shot wild birds, / from me, who drowned your kittens, who betrayed / your closest relatives, and who purveyed / the harshest kind of truth to many another. / But that is how things are: I am your mother, / and we are kind to snails.”
In the best of childhoods, the dilemmas of negotiating with and participating in the messy, cruel, unjust, confusing, contingent, violent world are held at bay by parents and caregivers whom the child experiences as trustworthy and reliable. We are kind to snails. In the best of childhoods the special, the marvelous, the miraculous flourish and child-like faith prevails. We are kind to snails. But even the best of childhoods come to an end. The messy, cruel, unjust, confusing, contingent, violent world begins to pierce the veil. Human limitations become apparent. Greed, arrogance, hatred and brokenness begin to show themselves. We need faith to come to terms with life’s harsher realities. We need faith in order to find sustenance and resilience, to move forward in the face of challenge and trauma. Is a child-like faith sufficient once the veil is pierced? Is unquestioning adherence to the doctrines of any religious tradition sufficient? Is belief without evidence sufficient once we’ve encountered the messy, cruel, unjust, confusing, contingent, violent world? For many people, apparently, it is. Many people derive wonderful comfort and immense strength from their wholehearted acceptance of religious notions for which there is absolutely no proof and which relate very little to their actual experience of the world. Students of faith development tell us many people, rather than growing their faith through the course of their lives, instead stay anchored in their childhood faith. I believe this is why the dominant definition of faith in our culture is ‘belief without evidence.’
I pass no judgement, but a child’s faith is not sufficient for me. I strive to profess and act out of the faith Sharon Salzberg teaches: faith that comes from trusting ourselves to discover the deepest truths on which we can rely. Sam Hamill’s poem, “Vigilance,” speaks of this faith. He contemplates the messy, cruel, unjust, confusing, violent world: A president making threats, people decimated by a great tsunami, casualties of war in Iraq. He does not turn to some fantastic myth; he does not adhere to doctrine; he does take solace in the unbelievable. He turns to his own experience. He says; “Give me / one moment with a robin / and a sunrise, / late winter’s harsh yellow light, / and crack / of frozen gravel underfoot / as I go out to work— / frightening off the bird— / a little wonder / in a suffering world, / a little delight / in a world of pain. / And then begin again.”[9] This is faith too—knowing from self-reflection what we need to begin again.
I am a person of faith. There are truths on which I can rely. “I know this rose will open” not because I believe something for which I have no evidence, but precisely because, no matter how tightly they close themselves against the cool night air, beautiful, fragrant roses seeking the sunlight and the dew in our herb garden have greeted me again and again and again on bright spring mornings. This is my experience and I trust it.
I am a person of faith. There are truths on which I can rely. “I know my fear will burn away,” not because I believe something for which I have no evidence, but precisely because there have been times when I have been fearful and vulnerable and weak and because there have been times when I have witnessed others—including many of you—confronting challenges far greater than any I have ever confronted and they—and you— have been fearful and vulnerable and weak; and in the act of acknowledging and accepting my fear, vulnerability and weakness—and in their act and your act of acknowledging and accepting fear, vulnerability and weakness—somehow, always, a next step emerges, a path emerges—we can go on—and in beginning to move along that path, fear burns away. This is my experience and I trust it.
I am a person of faith. There are truths on which I can rely. “I know my soul will unfurl its wings” not because I believe something for which I have no evidence, but precisely because I have learned to reflect on my own deepest experience and have discovered in that reflection the value and blessings of the human spirit; the value and blessings of family, friendship and community; the value and blessings of the nurturing, sustaining earth; the value and blessings of the web of life; and the value and blessings of that intimate and ultimate presence I call God whose love manifests in us and calls us to love neighbor as self. When I am able to orient my life towards these things; when I am able to ground myself in these things; when I am able to greet the day with these things in my mind and on my heart something different and marvelous and even miraculous happens—or seems to happen. What happens? My soul unfurls its wings. This is about as accurate and honest a description as I can give you. This is my deepest experience and I trust it. I am a person of faith. And I suspect you are too. In the very least I trust, as Salzberg trusts, “a capacity for this type of faith is inherent in every human being. We might not recognize it or know how to nurture it, but we can learn to do both.”
Maturing in faith is not about somehow finally deciding to leap across a mental, emotional and spiritual chasm in order to accept some proposition for which we have no evidence. We mature as people of faith when we learn to look deep inside, reflect on our experiences, discern what is trustworthy and reliable to us, and then live our lives—moment to beautiful, precious moment—grounded in that trust.
Amen and Blessed Be.
[1] Grigolia, Mary, “I Know this Rose Will Open,” Singing the Living Tradition (Boston: Beacon Press and the Unitarian Universalist Association, 1993) #496.
[2] Salzberg, Sharon, Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experience (New York: Riverhead Books, 2002) p. xiii.
[3] Ibid., p. xiv.
[4] Ibid., pp. xiv-xv.
[5] Fowler, James W., Stages of Faith (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1981).
[6] From Joann Wolski Conn (ed.), Women’s Spirituality: Resources for Christian Development. (Paulist, 1986), pp. 226-232. See: http://faculty.plts.edu/gpence/html/fowler.htm. For another good description of Fowler’s stages, see: http://jmm.aaa.net.au/articles/2219.htm.
[7] [7] From Joann Wolski Conn (ed.), Women’s Spirituality: Resources for Christian Development. (Paulist, 1986), pp. 226-232. See: http://faculty.plts.edu/gpence/html/fowler.htm.
[8] Adcock, Fleur, “For a Five-Year-Old,” in Keillor, Garrison, ed., Good Poems for Hard Times (New York: Penguin Books, 2005) p. 12.
[9] Hamill, Sam, “Vigilance” in Measured By Stone (Willimantic, CT: Curbstone Press, 2007) pp. 28-29.
