You Gotta Have Faith

George and I were having coffee when he said, “I'm attending a twelve-step group.” He continued, “Several months ago I hit bottom and had to admit that I was addicted.” “I used to make fun of twelve-step groups because they seem so programmed.” “I'm just now beginning to see the wisdom in the twelve steps, particularly the first three.” He then recited these steps to me: “1. We admit that our life is out of control. 2. We acknowledge a higher power who can return us to sanity. 3. We decide to turn our will and lives over to God as we understand God.”

George continued, “This higher power stuff is strange because I'm an atheist, or at least an agnostic. I don't really believe in God. Yet there is something about the group. I see other addicts whose lives are changing through their involvement. I guess my higher power is this twelve-step group. I'm beginning to believe that my life too can change if I am willing to trust the process.”

George paused and looked at me. “You know, I was raised in a religious home.” “I went to church school where I was taught the beliefs of my religious tradition. But they never really took. I enjoyed my friends and the group outings, but I didn't believed all the stuff they taught me about God. It was like they were trying to convince me that God was a super hero. My friends were concerned that I had lost my faith.”

I've thought a lot about this conversation with George, and I am reminded of another comment he made. He said, “Faith is not about belief. It's about trust and longing.” In this context, George has faith. But it's not based on a creed or a specific world view. It's based on the ongoing life experience of his twelve-step group.

When I titled this reflection, “You Gotta Have Faith,” I was not implying that we 'ought' to have faith. Rather, I was stating my assumption that faith is just a reality of our life situation. We all have a set of operating assumptions and practices that guide us. These may be as simple as, “I trust my intuition;” or “I trust my intelligence and physical stamina;” or “I trust my family and friends to support me.”

Some of us attach a belief statement to these practices. “I trust that God will guide and protect me;” or “I trust the economic and military power of the United States.” Yet ultimately, these belief statements are simply world views that are consistent with the practices that provide us with security and meaning in our lives.

It used to be that our religious, political and cultural institutions reinforced our practices and belief statements. For many of us, these institutions no longer provide this grounding. This trend is manifest in recent polls on religious affiliation. The fastest growing group nationally is those who no longer claim an affiliation. This is complemented by the fact that increasing numbers of people identify themselves as “spiritual but not religious.”

Many of us feel cut off, alone and disquieted; and we consciously or unconsciously cast about for ways to ease this dilemma. Some of us turn to religious and political groups that describe the world in terms of simplistic polarities. Either you believe or you don't believe. Having done this, we can demonize those whose world view differs from our own. Others search for answers in spiritual and esoteric traditions different from their own. Still others deny the problem all together, relying on one technical fix after another to maintain a status quo that is no longer sustainable.

As I ponder the issues raised in my conversation with George, I am increasingly convinced that, like my friend, we may be hitting bottom as a society. Like the addict, we are confronted by the fact that our present coping mechanisms, or faith practices, are inadequate to the challenge. The incredibly polarized presidential election and the devastation of super storm Sandy have put us on notice. Global warming is a real and present danger as is the political dysfunction in our land. We are addicted to cultural values that are killing us. In traditional religious language, we are beginning to realize that we have been worshipping false Gods.

Now remember, I'm not speaking belief systems here. I'm speaking of the fact that the collective practices that we have developed to promote meaning and wholeness in are lives are inadequate. Put another way, our values are out of whack. These misdirected values are manifest, not by what we say we value, but by how we live. And as with the addict who who hopes that one more addictive hit will satisfy this need, we continue to feed our collective addictions hoping to satisfy our yearning for security and meaning.

So how do we move from step one to step two in twelve-step terminology? How do we acknowledge a higher power that can return us to sanity? Again, step two does not require a belief statement. As with my friend George, we are not required to believe in God, particularly not the God we rejected in our earlier lives, to engage step two. What is required is that we get in touch with our deep yearning for wholeness. What is further required is that this yearning causes us to proceed as if there is a source of healing that can move us from the insanity of our destructive cultural practices to the sanity of healthy, nondestructive ones.

When we proceed in this way, step three will follow. We will begin to explore and engage in practices that are less destructive. In terms of global warming, we will be attracted to people who are reducing their carbon footprint on he earth. These may be folks who are composting, who are car pooling or who are paying more attention to the beauty of the creation. The point is, that we will do this not to be politically correct but because we yearn to be healthier, both individually. and collectively.. We will begin to appreciate the insanity of our addictive practices. We will seek help from others to develop practices that provide greater wholeness and meaning in our lives. In twelve-step language we will begin turning our will and life over to God as we understand God. Put another way, we will begin to trust these developing practices because they result in positive changes in our lives and culture.

The issues I am discussing here are not new. The mystics in all religious traditions have been grappling with questions such as these for more than a thousand years. Furthermore, one doesn't have to be an expert in meditation techniques to engage this material. What is required is the yearning, the personal honesty and the ability to accept help from others in changing our practices.

John Kirvan has written two little books of meditations which I have found useful in this regard. They are titled, God Hunger and Raw Faith. In these little books, Kirvan focusses on the lives and teachings of mystics from Jewish, Christian and Moslem traditions, mystics from ancient to modern times.

Listen to what these mystics have to say that may apply to our present situation:

Simone Weil (pronouced 'vey') (1909-1943)¹ “wrote with the clarity of a brilliant mind educated in the best French schools, the social conscience of a grass-roots labor organizer and the certainty and humility of a Christian mystic. She stayed out of any church, but her passionate need to share the sufferings of others led her to fight with the anarchists in the Spanish Civil War, to work as a field hand and unskilled laborer, and ultimately to die in England from TB complicated by her refusing to eat more than Hitler's rations allotted to her countrymen in occupied France.” Weil proclaimed, “To believe in God is not a decision we can make. All we can do is to decide not to give our love to false Gods.”

Blaise Pascal (1623-1632)² a mathematician and scientist, was one of the geniuses of modern France. “At 10:30 and for two hours on the evening of November 23, 1654 he had a life shaping experience of God. He forgot 'all the world and all things except for God.'” From this time forward his heart had found truths that his formidable reasoning couldn't fathom. Yet Pascal the scientist could not give up his reason. So, like many of us, Pascal was stretched between the extremes of experience and reason. As he put it, “We want truth and find only uncertainty in ourselves.”

Henri J. Nouwen (1932-1996)³ was a psychiatrist, priest, intellectual and prolific writer, a professor at Notre Dame, Yale and Harvard. People read his writings, not only because of their spiritual insights, but because he was willing to expose his own frailty, his bouts with depression and doubt. He, like Pascal, bridged the gap between academia (psychology and theology) and the life of the spirit. During the last years of his life, he served as pastor at L'Arche Daybreak near Toronto, a community where people with developmental disabilities and their friends lived together. While there, he developed a deep friendship with Adam Arnett and cared for him, a man who never spoke a word. Nouwen was willing to risk because, as he put it, “Ultimately we must choose between security and freedom.”

Rumi (Muhammad Jalal al-Din – 1207-1273),⁴ one of history's greatest mystic poets, has influenced both the Moslem and Christian worlds. In 1244, Rumi, the brilliant scholar, met and fell in love with Shams el Din of Tabriz, a wandering dervish. For two years they danced, prayed and sang together until Sahms was murdered, probably by Rumi's relatives. Through his love for Shams, Rumi, a spiritual neophyte became a poet and mystic, realizing that the mystery of love bridged the gap between the physical and spiritual worlds. Rumi put it this way, “ No Heaven, no earth just this mysterious place we walk in dazedly . .”

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (1907-1972)⁵ was born in Poland to a family of respected rabbis. He received his doctorate at the University of Berlin. In the late 1930s, Rabbi Heschel was arrested by the Gestapo and deported to Poland. He escaped to London just a few weeks prior to the German invasion of Poland. His mother and three sisers were killed by the Nazis. Heschel's life was grounded in the mysticism and inner spiritual practices of Kabbalah, Hassidism, and medieval Jewish philosophy. He played a prominent role in the US civil rights movements and protested the war in Vietnam. He said of his life⁶, “It is not enough for me to ask questions; I want to know how to answer the one question that seems to encompass everything I face: What am I here for?”

Julian of Norwich (1342-1420)⁷ was a medieval nun who lived in a kind of solitude in a single cell attached to the Church of St. Edmund and St. Julian in Norwich, East Anglia. She lived a life of such sanctity and powerful relation to God that she attracted visitors from throughout Europe. She left behind a work titled “Showings” or “Reflections of a Divine Love,” the oldest work in English by a woman, a work that is still in print and is still read by spiritual seekers. She went beyond patriarchal notions of God adding the dimension of motherhood. Because of her experience of the presence of God in her life, she could write, “God dwells within us. We dwell in God.” “All will be well.” “All will be well.”

The list of mystics goes on and on: Therese of Lisieux, Rabbi Alazar Ben Azariah, C. S. Lewis, Angelus Silesius, Thomas Merton, Francis of Assisi, the writers of the Kabbalah, Evelyn Underhill, Al-Ghazzali, Karl Rahner . . . They come from many religious and spiritual traditions. But in all cases, they are driven by a profound yearning for wholeness and meaning for themselves and their societies. They stand over against the societal norms of their times. Their journeys are solitary and often lonely. And the Mystery, or God, that they engaged was often baffling, confusing and challenging. Yet through it all, there was a resounding sense of hope.

So whether we follow the teachings of the prophets; claim Jesus as Lord and Savior; engage God in silent meditation; claim, “I'm spiritual but not religious” or say, “I don't believe in God” - whatever our situation, the world needs people who are able and willing to grapple with the ambiguities and uncertainties of humanity, people who are able to walk in the shoes of the mystics. It is my hope and prayer that we each are capable of this calling.

1. Raw Faith by John Kirvan (p. 28ff)
2. Raw Faith by John Kirvan (p. 76ff)
3. Raw Faith by John Kirvan (p. 60ff)
4. God Hunger by John Kirvan (p. 60ff)
5. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abraham_Joshua_Heschel
6. Who Is Man by Abraham Jushua Heshel, p. 53
7. Silent Hope by John Kirvan (p, 60ff)