Faith and Stuff: Confronting the 'What ifs'

“But what about babies?”

We were sitting in someone’s living room, having “small groups” or “bible study” or whatever you want to call it, and someone had just finished explaining the hard, uncomfortable truth of the fate of non-believers: We are all deserving of hell. It is only by God’s grace that any of us are saved. It is unfortunate, but not unfair that those who have never heard the gospel die and go to hell. That is why it is so urgent that we send out missionaries and spread the gospel at every opportunity we have.

“Are you telling me, that babies who die are currently burning in hell?” I asked angrily. “Because we all deserve hell? Even those innocent children who never had a chance at receiving God’s grace?”

I never received a satisfying answer that evening, which wasn’t uncommon during youth group. I refused to accept that God was tossing infants into the fiery pit, but we left it at that. There were a lot of things I was unwilling to accept back then, but it was often easier to ignore them. Whenever I started to ask questions, I was always discouraged by the “answers” I received. I struggled with my faith a bit, but eventually, I learned how to handle these tough encounters without hurling myself into a faith crisis. Whenever I read a difficult passage in the bible, I would close the pages and offer up a prayer:

God. I don’t understand what the heck I just read. I have no idea why you would say such a thing. BUT. I trust you. And I hope that someday, I will reach a better understanding of all this.

With this established trust, it became a lot easier to stomach those crazy Old Testament passages, and my Senior year of high school, I accidentally fell in love with the OT. Such vibrant stories! They were a mystery I never tired of solving. Just in time, too.

When I was accepted to Eastern University, there were a few dear members of my congregation who were concerned about the nature of this particular Christian school. They didn’t want me to fall prey to “false teachers” and lose my faith. I wasn’t worried though. My faith had already been tested many times before and had only grown stronger because of those trials. I could handle anything those liberal Christians would throw at me.

When I learned that all incoming freshmen were required to take Intro Old Testament and New Testament courses, I was super excited. Finally! I would have access to a real bible scholar who could answer all of my questions and help me unlock the mysteries of the OT. I had a plan: I would befriend this professor, just like I had befriended all of my teachers in high school, and then he would have to spend the rest of his life answering all of my questions. I was a bit discouraged when I realized there were 200 other students in the class (how are we supposed to become best friends if I am but 1 out of 200 students???), but I sat near the front and hoped for the best.

Spoiler alert: we did become friends, but he never answered any of my questions. In fact, he only ever left me with MORE questions. Jerk.

Even so, that class--along with a number of other experiences I had that first year away from home-- changed my life forever.

I was incredibly resistant at first. I’m always resistant to change. At one point I had even convinced myself that my professor was one of those False Teachers I had been warned about. It was a shame that such a nice guy was secretly evil and probably going to hell.

Eventually, though, I had to admit to myself that things just weren’t adding up anymore. I began to wonder if I was really guarding my faith or if I was guarding something else.

What if?

What if asking questions doesn’t have to result in a crisis of faith? What if God is big enough to handle my uncertainty? What if God doesn’t need defending? What if I let go of my need for answers, for certainty?

I was afraid that if I let go of my beliefs I would lose everything, even God. And then I would just be floating around in the abyss of the Unknown, without a foothold.

But then I remembered that prayer from high school. It was founded on trust, not right belief. Maybe it was time to revisit that prayer:

God, I don’t always understand what’s going on. I don’t like not having all the answers. But I trust you. And I am grateful to be on this journey.

Thus, like Elsa, I let it go...

Sorry, couldn’t help myself. But anyway, that was the beginning of a very long, still on-going process of change for me. My whole perspective on God, sin, life, and even love, have changed dramatically over the years. I may continue to write about what that process has looked like for me. Or not. Who knows? My moods are unpredictable.