The Fall Semester of my Junior year in college was winding down. Completing one major assignment stood between me and a much-needed Christmas break. I was writing a long research paper about Immanuel Kant’s theory of beauty in his Critique of Judgment. It was complicated stuff and painfully slow going.
Midnight came and went on the term’s final Saturday. With one more edit I would be able to call it quits. But my brain rebelled at the very thought of putting another stinking word on paper. That would have to wait until morning. Well, until daylight at least.
I had been working in the living room. My apartment mates had long since called it a night. So, I flipped on our ancient black and white TV, lowered the volume to a whisper, and turned out the lights. Ted Turner’s pre-cable Superstation was running an “It’s a Wonderful Life” marathon.
I watched the character George Bailey fall into despair, attempt suicide, and then learn from a kindly, bumbling angel that his life really was worth living. As the credits rolled, I turned the volume all the way down and sat alone for a while by the silver glow of the television. That sweet old film had gotten under my skin.
George had been feeling the existential weight of life’s big questions. What makes my life worth living? Who am I? Why am I here? Why am I doing what I’m doing? Does the path I’m on really lead me to the good life? What is a good life anyway?
In the stillness of my apartment, I recognized that I had been feeling the weight of those big questions for a while myself. You see, life’s sense of meaning derives from our beliefs, from the answers we give to those big questions. My answers had come from the Christian faith of my youth. And while I had not rejected the faith, those beliefs had grown fragile.
In the intervening years, I’ve come to see that the age we live in makes believing difficult. It’s not just that we are inundated by information from the internet and bombarded by competing truth claims in the media. We are aware like never before of the faith traditions and the belief systems that find our own Christian beliefs untenable, strange, or even ridiculous.
Most of us know (or at least know of) Jews, Atheists, Muslims, Buddhists, Agnostics, and spiritual-but-not-religious individuals. Their commitment to a belief system that differs from our own suggests that Christianity can be put into question. Whether we like it or not, we live in a skeptical age.
Even when we believe (as I do), our belief is fragilized. We cannot merely forget that we have options. Instead, we must clearly articulate for ourselves and for others how our belief in Jesus answers life’s big questions for us and thus infuses our life with meaning.
In my tradition, we look to the saints of the past to provide guidance and encouragement as we seek to follow Jesus. I can’t think of a better example for the Skeptical Age than Nathaniel. Okay. This may seem like an odd choice. So let me tell you his very brief story from John’s Gospel. (John 1:43-51)
A newly minted disciple named Philip couldn’t wait to share the news about Jesus. He raced to tell his friend Nathaniel that he had found the long-awaited Messiah. It’s Nathaniel’s initial response to Philip that makes him such a good candidate for patron saint of our age. He said, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” I read that to mean, “Yeah, sure. Right!” (John 1:46)
And what turns Nathaniel from sophisticated skeptic to heartfelt believer is not a Bible lesson or theological treatise. It’s an encounter. A personal encounter with Jesus. And importantly, he doesn’t see Jesus. He experiences being seen and known by Jesus.
Here’s how John describes the encounter:
When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him, he said of him, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael asked him, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus answered, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” (John 1:47-49)
Nathaniel’s story teaches us a couple of important things about faith in the Age of Skepticism. The liveliness of our faith rests on a living, personal relationship with the risen Christ. As Richard Rohr likes to say, no one can do our spiritual homework for us.
Additionally, genuine faith is not imposed upon us. It begins with an ongoing invitation from Jesus to us. An invitation to relationship. Our faith continues and grows and deepens as we accept that invitation again and again as our lives unfold.
The meaning of our life emerges over time. That meaning comes not from what we accomplish along the way, but from who we’ve found ourselves walking with.
In addition to the free posts in your inbox each Friday, remember that the podcasts for paid subscribers drop each Wednesday. The series for Epiphany is called “Aha Moments.” The Lenten series will be called “The Wisdom of the Psalms.” Try out the podcast with the free 7-day trial. If you want to listen but don’t have the budget for it right now, shoot me an email by clicking this link. I’ll be glad to comp you some listens.
Thank you for bringing this alive. Great job!
True that