F is for Faith

As I mentioned in “B is for Beliefs,” the meaning of faith has changed for me. I used to have faith “in” something (or Someone). And faith was framed as a cognitive commitment to a series of doctrines. I always struggled to believe some of the things I was taught I should, and my faith suffered for that. Many evangelical tenants require a person to believe things that are incredible, impossible even, for me to agree to. I couldn’t always figure out how to be both faithful AND intellectually honest (that said, I’m not claiming to be perfectly intellectually honest even now—I’m a work in progress).

Hebrews 11:1 in the Bible defines faith this way: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

I never really understood that definition while I was in the church because the things we were meant to be assured of (eternal life, salvation from our sins) were so hard for me to wrap my mind around. Now, of course, I don’t think one can ever have total assurance of something one hopes for. But this second part of the definition resonates for me these days.

I have plenty of conviction of things not readily seen:

  • My ability to handle, with a roughly sound mind, whatever life throws my direction.
  • My value as a human being even if I am not serving, helping, catering to, placating, or otherwise being useful to someone else.
  • The general goodness of human beings.
  • The certain shadow we humans also carry, both individually and in the collective consciousness.
  • The possibility that humanity can and will evolve to be kinder to one another and to the earth.
  • My ability to grow and expand into greater self-authority and, therefore, into deeper wisdom for my own life.

You may look at this list and think these small convictions, but I don’t think so. If we don’t trust self and life at least a little bit, the only reasonable response is either paralysis or constant vigilance. I have lived with both emotional paralysis and vigilance, holding still and watching for bad things to happen or for people to be mean. And bad things HAVE happened and people HAVE been mean, but these never came from the direction I was watching—always from some unexpected place I didn’t think to look. I can tell you that it’s better to decide to carry optimism and trust around in the body than to live eyes-darting to and fro, ducking from danger.

Faith doesn’t come easily for me unfortunately. I’m not a naturally relaxed person. I worry a lot. I have to recite my chosen convictions to myself often. I say things to myself like, “There are as many people committed to growth as there are those wallowing in hate.” And I look for evidence that SOME things in the world are getting better (women have the vote in municipal elections in Saudi Arabia since 2015, for example), even as so many things look bleak right now. Without closing my eyes to what is dark and needs changing, I choose to practice a state of Faith, and this opens my heart to also see goodness and wholesomeness and to sort out where I can personally take action.

I wonder what faith means to you, reader. I’d love to hear your reflections.