Teetering faith

What do you do when you don’t have faith?

I’m not asking what you should do when you have lost your faith; this scenario is asking: what if the way you fundamentally think doesn’t include an inclination to take things on faith?

I guess the easy answer is you should drop things that require you to have faith, like your church, like a bad habit. But hold on…it’s not as simple as you think. What if you recognize that the lessons you have learned from your church — more or less — are good lessons? You simply are…missing something…You don’t feel as if this something you are missing will break your relationship with the church and your fellow churchgoers, but eventually, you know you will be exposed and eaten alive.

I once read a Time expose on how Mother Teresa struggled in a constant crisis of faith for several years…She admitted that although some people might get their prayers answered and while Jesus might have a love for some, the silence and blindness that she received only mocked her efforts. She was truly abandoned…and I can completely identify with her plight. However, a noticeable distinction between her and me, I suppose, is that she still acted saintly. Sure, I do the good things, but I’m not starting hospitals in Calcutta.

I’ve thought to myself…why not just leave? After all, there are “better” places like unitarian universalism, agnosticism, secular humanism, or any other nice sounding -ism.

I like to think about what I liked about the church in the first place. The spiritual parts of it always hit the bottom of my list. The top of my list includes how my church is very professional and businesslike…I learned about etiquette, about holding meetings and delegating duties, about being a leader and a manager, about speaking publicly, about valuing education, and about communicating effectively and I must give full credit to church for that. I recognize that enough things make sense so I don’t disaffect. I still have rumblings of disagreement, but I think they are manageable enough.

I am in a place of no time and no space. I have resolved within myself that I cannot leave until I read all of my books, and go through them cover to cover…isn’t it sad that I’ve never done that before? I’ve learned enough to go through the motions very well, but I’ve never taken the ultimate plunge.

Only after I have read everything will I feel comfortable in saying, “Yes, I agree,” or “No, I must renounce.” It’s a funny thing…the church gambles on the concept that more people will say the former rather than the latter (the Book of Mormon challenge is a most ingenious invention that I love even if I don’t take it seriously); I still don’t know why I’m waiting. It’s a good place to not change things.