Faith, part II

Some people say they know God is real because He answers their prayers. Or they say, God knows what I need because some person came to help me with something but I didn't tell anybody that I needed it, so how did they know? It had to be God who told them.

I've had these experiences as well. And it makes me feel good, and at those times I want to say, "Yes! I *know* God is real!"

The truth is, I believe God is real. My experiment isn't complete yet and I feel insincere when I say, "I know".

I'm trying the "faith" experiment. I've had moments of prayer where the ideas that came to me seemed to be different than what I normally think. They seemed out of place in my head, as if someone else had put their ideas there.

Sometimes it's hard to tell if an idea is "yours" or not. But sometimes it's pretty easy. It's like this:

Free image from pixabay.com

That's my actual house. Notice the doll upside down in the mixing bowl? If it's not obvious to you, I'll tell you: the dessert definitely did not originate from this kitchen.

So then what happens after such a thought enters my head is ... YUM! 

And at least once, the idea that has appeared in my head has been something I had never thought of before. Like seeing a UFO and you can't describe it because it's literally like nothing you've ever seen. Yeah, like that.

So I act on the thought. And I like the outcome. And then I think, maybe there's something to this religion thing. If "they" were right about the effectiveness of prayer, what else could they be right about?

So I give it a go. And I think, "Maybe it isn't necessarily God who set this all up, but it works." So my faith, as it always has been, is practical. "It works, so I'll believe it."

One verse of scripture that has made a big impact on me is John 14:11, where Christ is speaking to His disciples about His divine nature. All the stuff that comes before this verse is all well and good, but when Jesus says this to his disciples, it hits me hard: "Believe me that I am ^ain the ^bFather, and the Father in me: or else believe me for the very works’ sake."

The "work", in my understanding, is to bring people to a higher understanding of their own potential for goodness. That's something I believe in. So I'll do what Jesus said. I'll do the work He asks me to do, because I believe in the work. 

Faith

A push pin on a bulletin board outside my college professor's office pierced an essay and secured it to the cork. The main idea of the essay was very clear: matter and energy and forces are all there is to life. Furthermore, the author proposed, emotions, consciousness, and perhaps what we call spirit are all chemical and electrical phenomena.

At the time I read those ideas, I used the concept of an "aha" moment to refute them. If all there is are chemicals and electrical signals, given the same input (words, visual stimulus, etc.), how would you get a different output? To specify, when the same words and other ideas are introduced to you, and you hear and understand on a certain level, what is the explanation for that experience turning suddenly in to an "aha" moment?

My answer, initially, was that it is the Spirit of God which delivers the "aha", when all the other variables remain the same. Of course this deus ex machina thinking isn't satisfactory, so the idea has been sitting on a shelf in my brain for some time.

Recently, on a related issue, I have realized that I have difficulty with the idea of faith. Believing something that you don't know to be true sounds a bit risky. Though scientists experience this on a regular basis as they conduct experiments, it becomes more problematic when the thing you are studying resists being knowable.

This is the case with the idea of the existence of God. To have faith in God is problematic for a scientist, for whom the data is inconclusive. It may be that an "aha" moment was mediated by the Holy Spirit, or it is equally probable that there is a mechanism of thinking that produces the same effect.

Of course, the two ideas are not mutually exclusive. Why can't the mechanism which produces "aha" moments be the tool with which the Holy Spirit speaks truth to our souls? What if, when our brains "hear" the language of the Spirit, it triggers the exact chemical electrical process that results in "aha" moments?

I want to be able to say, "I know." At church we bear testimony and say, "I know God is real." I've said this in the past, and I sometimes think it to myself. The reality is, I choose to believe that God is real. I am testing that theory the same way a scientist must choose a hypothesis before she can conduct a meaningful experiment.

Everything I know supports the idea that God is real. What makes this difficult is, everything I know can also support the idea that there is no God. So why do I choose to believe? The answer is simple, and somewhat childish (or maybe child-like?): I want to believe it is true. I like the idea of a Being who uses reason, who loves, and who can miraculously balance justice with mercy. These are attributes that I value. I like the idea of a divine Being who has a physical existence, because I am continually aware of the joy associated with having a body.

I like the idea of a God who uses chemistry and electricity (aha moments) to bring a sense of order (science) to our physical existence. I believe in God because I want to, it makes sense, and I believe that if everyone believed in God the way that I believe in God, the world would be a kinder, more justice-filled place full of learning and love and joy.

A Place for Everything and Everything In It's Place

At the yard sale last week, I put a stack of CDs in a small plastic tote. I didn't expect anyone to be interested.

Things got busy with the selling and answering questions, and I noticed a few people walking around with a couple of CDs. Finally, I saw a man carrying around the whole box. Two thoughts came so closely together that I don't know which was first.

One thought was: Wow, I didn't realize those would be so popular; I should have put a price on them.

The second thought was: I don't think I put the lid for the box out there. Now I have an extra lid!

Even though that was 5 days ago, that thought still plagues me. I'm going to have to collect the boxes at some point. Boxes with no lids, or lids with no boxes ... How can a person live with such asymmetry?

It is now 30 days before we need to be ready to leave.

Most of the big items from our home were sold at a yard sale a few days ago. Ever since then I've been on Facebook Marketplace selling the rest.

I had thought we were fairly conservative in terms of our materialistic tendencies. Now I know better. I woke up this morning about 2 hours early and couldn't sleep for all the visions of junk on the floors of my house.

Most of the furniture was moved outside for the yard sale.

Kitchen shelf

 We put suitcases where the drawers used to be, and I'm putting everything into piles according to type, in preparation for another yard sale and other forms of recycling. One box of pictures and other small, sentimental items will go to the grandparents, and maybe a few other treasures will find a place with other relatives. Otherwise, we all will take one large suitcase and a backpack, and maybe a small carry-on for at least some of us.


While it does feel good to downsize, it is an incredible feat of endurance and emotional detachment to eliminate what feels like 98% of our belongings.