Sometimes I wonder about my faith. Not in the sense of having doubts about whether Christianity is true—I settled that years ago after doubting so deeply that for a time I wondered if I would remain a Christian. Don’t get me wrong. Questions still arise that I have no answer for, but I’ve learned that my not having an answer doesn’t mean that there isn’t one, so such moments aren’t upsetting. I just say I don’t know, and begin to think it through.
My wondering about my faith comes, instead, on the relational side of things. Believing in Jesus is not simply an intellectual affair. The Christian faith does not consist of merely agreeing that a set of propositions about Jesus and life and death are true. Instead, the Scriptures reveal Christ as a living person, a resurrected Lord, a God-man fully present in his creation bringing all things to their appointed end. We believe a set of propositions (like the ones that make up the Apostles’ Creed) because we are convinced of Jesus. And being convinced of Jesus means being convinced about a person, about someone present in our life. It’s a relationship.
“The Divine Lover,” John Stott writes in Authentic Christianity (p. 301) “still sorrows when his love is unrequited, and pines for our continuing, deepening, maturing adoration. Love, then, is the first mark of a true and living church. Indeed, it is not a living church at all unless it is a loving church. The Christian life is essentially a love-relationship to Jesus Christ. ‘Jesus captured me,’ wrote Wilson Carlile, founder and ‘chief’ of the Church Army. ‘For me to know Jesus is a love affair.’”
This is the part I sometimes wonder about. How do I nourish this, be certain of it, enjoy it, and deepen it? What does it feel like, and when feeling are muddled what does that mean? Do I love him, really, or am I in love with The Story that is so profoundly satisfying, speaking to every part of life and reality? Or are these the same thing?
I suppose the cynical response would be to say, well, that’s a Presbyterian for you. But I’ve looked into the more mystical and more emotional and more demonstrable parts of the church, and though I’ve learned from them I find them wanting. And being Reformed is not the problem, as anyone who reads Stott, or The Valley of Vision will see.
So, my wondering continues.