On Faith
O Magazine • May 2007
Image by Jon Tyson
The landscape between the known and the unknown is the birthplace of faith.
We can know that the next thought to arise in our minds will be evanescent, and a potential force for good or ill, but we cannot know what it will say. We can know that secrets bring anxiety and understanding brings peace, but we cannot know if a particular relationship will flourish or not. We can know that we will all die, but we cannot know precisely when or in what circumstances.
Living in that landscape, we wonder when we can trust an intuition as true, how to react in situations once we realize we do not have all the answers, where to find a sense of meaning in the midst of change, how to find the strength to keep going when we can't foresee how a situation will conclude.
We might try to deny the dynamic nature of the unknown, to feel safe within the confines of our efforts to assume control. This is the faith of “I know it will all work out exactly the way I want it to.” We may call this faith but in reality it is a subtle form of fear.
It is also the faith of “My belief is definitely right and can never be challenged or questioned.” We may call this faith but in reality it is another way of holding on tightly to a view.
In these imitations of faith we have hope and clarity which are no longer vital and alive, but have become fixed and static. Faith can be stronger than that, and vaster, because at heart we are stronger and vaster.
Faith is essentially about connection – a connection to our own inherent capacity for wisdom and love no matter what our immediate circumstances, a connection to a bigger picture of life no matter what we face.
I recently attended a meeting of Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans and their families, where a terribly injured young man, half blind, mostly deaf, with traumatic brain injury sustained in Iraq on his 22nd birthday, to my awe said he was there to see if he could help others. The power of connection gives us an identity beyond just our injury, or our need, or our isolation or fear. We are more able to move forward though uncertainty, to be resilient in times of difficulty, to respond to life’s challenges without feeling trapped or alone. The power of faith reminds and inspires us to always look for the greatest connection, within and without.
That is why the opposite of faith isn’t doubt, which applied in the right way can enrich our faith. We should be able to question, investigate and examine both what we are told and our own ideas and assumptions. The true opposite of faith is the sundering of connection, the experience of utter isolation, or despair.
In contrast, faith dares us to imagine what we should aspire to, what we might be genuinely capable of. Faith also teaches us to explore our internal and external worlds with a sense of possibility rather than one of foreboding or helplessness.
Faith suffuses the darkness with knowledge of light. It enables us to take one faltering step after another out of suffering, to reach for what we don’t yet know with more openness and a measure of courage, when we might otherwise just want to lie down and die.
My own journey of faith has taught me that whatever disappointments or hardships I encounter in life, I can try again, trust again, and love again.