The Seeds of Faith

Each day on my way to work, I pass by lots of places here in my hometown that remind me of my life as a child, schools I attended, places I used to go with my family.  One of them is Immanuel Baptist Church.  Seeing that little church takes me back to some of my first memories of learning about the faith that would become an important part of me.  I remember being there and singing all the typical Sunday School songs, including "Jesus Loves Me" and "Jesus Loves the Little Children." 

I remember that the latter song always made me wonder what "red and yellow" little children would look like,  because I associated those colors with the ones I knew from my crayon box.  I was also a little unclear on how the coins I brought for offering made their way to God. Or was it Jesus that got them?  And what was the deal with Jesus and God?  Which of them was in charge of what?  

Since we were an Army family, we moved a lot, so Immanuel Baptist was followed by Westwood Baptist, also here in Lawton, and First Southern Baptist Church in Junction City, KS, outside Ft. Riley.  When you go that far north, churches have to specify which Baptists they are, unlike down south, where " Baptist" always means "Southern Baptist."  Later when we moved back here, we went to Westwood again.

I have vivid memories of all these churches, of being so young that everything was confusing, especially matters of religion and faith, which most people, if they are being honest, would have to say remain somewhat fuzzy long after their childhood is over.  

Later, I learned that Jesus said that a lot about faith, and that he used stories, or parables, to impart his wisdom. One of the things he said is that his Kingdom is like a mustard seed, a tiny little seed that, when planted, grows into the largest of the garden plants, as big as a tree.  When I drive by Immanuel Baptist church, I am reminded that it was there, and in those other churches I attended as a child, where I sang those songs, and met people of faith, and gained a child's  imperfect understanding of God.  Those experiences, and my mother's strong faith, were the seeds of my own faith in Christ. 

As a child, my faith was simple.  It was OK that I didn't have everything figured out, that I didn't quite understand everything they talked about in church.  I didn't worry about those things much, because the basis of my faith, the belief that God loved me and cared about me and my life, was very real to me.  I believed those things partly because I was taught them at church and by my mother, but mainly because I experienced them for myself.  I knew God and his Son, and I knew that they loved me.  I don't know why this was true for me, I just know that it was.

As an adult, I became involved in lots of church activities, such as teaching Bible classes and being in church leadership.  I felt it was important to do these things to show God  (and other people)  that I was serious about my faith.  It was important to me to live out my faith for my children to see, and working in the church was how I tried to do that.  Some of the "church work" I did was deeply rewarding.  However, a lot of it was drudgery, done because I felt I had to, that not serving at church was not an option.   I was drawn into all kinds of church drama that didn't do much to glorify God.  (If you've been part of any church, you've probably seen the kind of stuff I'm talking about.)   I know now that a lot of the things I did to serve God were pretty far removed from the seeds of my faith.

These days I don't do any church work.  My faith has taken a path that  I would never have expected, one that does not include a congregation at present.  I am not bitter, or overly cynical.  What I am , is open to questions in ways that I never allowed myself to be when I was in church.   There are plenty of things that churches teach that I  no longer believe, or at least allow myself to question.  I no longer accept the doctrine of eternal torment for everyone who doesn't profess Christ.  Despite the emphatic proclamations of some, I do not believe that God hates homosexuals.  Or anyone else, for that matter.  I no longer feel that I have to have an answer to every theological question.  It is once again OK that I don't have everything figured out.

Some people who lose faith in their church, who allow them themselves to ask questions,  ultimately lose their faith completely.  They leave it behind like their childish beliefs in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.  I am glad that that is not the case for me.  Although my  faith has changed, it has also grown.  Although I doubt some things that churches teach, I have never doubted those fundamentals, the seeds of my faith that I experienced when I was so young, that God loves me and that Jesus is my friend.

It is difficult to write about matters of faith without sounding trite, like someone who just parrots what he has been taught.  I hope I have avoided that, but if not, that's OK.  How do you explain or defend something you believe, something that you know, to someone who doesn't understand your faith?  You can't.  And that's OK too.  I know what I believe, and why I believe it.  For that I am thankful.


Copyright © 2013 by Steven W. Fouse