Saturday, March 28, 2015

Musings on my faith going into Holy Week 1/n

As I stand on the precipice of entering Holy Week, the holiest, most important time of the year for Christians that the rest of the world kind of (mercifully) ignores because it has only managed to co-opt the Easter Egg and candy part of things, which is literally the least important part, I have been reflecting, as I ought, on what my faith means. A kind of all compassing musing on what it is I believe, why I bother to believe it, and going all the way to "What do I call myself, since 'Christian Scientist' is something other than what I am?" I'm going to try to write as much of it as I can on this blog, because I feel it is important, but being musings I can't promise they will be thesis like. They may ramble a bit. Some may be long and some may be short. If you come here for physics posts, sorry not sorry for the theological interlude.

Holy Week, particularly in the liturgical tradition, throws sharp relief on a lot of doctrinal points that Christians tend to go 'yeah, yeah I know' at and non-Christians think we are crazy for believing. It can also bring up, if you run in the right circles, friendly debates about atonement vs. redemption theology, the sufficiency of Christ's sacrifice, and even the purpose of baptism, getting into the paedobaptism vs. believer baptism debate. The practice of Holy Week is designed to remind us, in case Lent did not, that we are broken, and that Christ died to heal that brokenness, and rose again to usher in the coming of wholeness.

That we are broken is something of which I have no doubt. I don't see how anyone can disagree with it. As my father observed, "The doctrine of total depravity has never lacked for outside proof"[ETA: This is apparently a quotation from G.K. Chesterton]. That Christ died to heal that brokenness I also have no doubt, though this is where a lot of the people I know think I've jumped the shark, so to speak. A fair number of my peers (and superiors and inferiors, I have no doubt) think that my faith is odd, nutty, a bit of a relic or even 'something [I'll] outgrow'. I have no problem with the ones who think the first two, I can understand, though not agree with the third and the  fourth I find unbearably patronizing, but that is neither here nor there. Christianity *is* weird. And a lot of humans have horribly twisted it and corrupted it and I desperately wish we could make those corruptions a thing of the past, though there is something to be said for the devil you know.

So let's get something out of the way before I get any father into recording my theological thoughts. Just make this the first post.

My faith is not just a comfort in bad time (though it is that), or a I'll-go-someplace-nice-when-I-die wishful thinking, or a philosophy, or a way to connect with a larger community. It is in a very real sense *everything* to me. It defines the universe, my place in the universe, the purpose of the universe and myself; it defines my relationship to God, between myself and my family, between myself and my husband, between myself and every human I will ever encounter; it determines my responsibilities to this world, and everyone and everything in it; it is the entire framework on which my life is built. If you striped everything else away, my faith remains.

"How can you be a scientist and a Christian?" is a question I have heard a (frankly) irritating number of times. From both directions, actually. Scientists who are atheists look askew at my ability to trust science if I also believe in a man-god, and Christians with whom I have strong doctrinal disagreements don't trust my soul to be saved if I think we came from monkeys. The question makes as much sense to me as "how can you be a scientist if you are a woman?". If I really believe that God created the universe, and he created us, how can I *not* believe that this universe would be designed in such a way that we, striving to understand it as we follow our natural, God-given curiosity and using the minds He gave us, could understand? How could I not jump at the opportunity to study a master-craftsman's work? If you think I'm crazy for believing in a Creator, or for believing in a Triune God, or a Savior or whatever particulars of my doctrine baffle you  to the extent you doubt my science, you are welcome to check my math. If you think I'm going to Hell because  when the math and science say the universe is 14 billion give-or-take years old, I trust that it's right,  please point me to the passage in the New Testament where this is named as a salvific issue. I'll wait.

That I am a scientist is not a stumbling block to my faith, and  my faith is not a stumbling block to my science. Though I wont go quite so far as Kepler to say that math is the language of God, or even as far as the Belgic confession in favor of natural theology, I will say with the psalmist that the "heavens declare the glory of the LORD" and with Maltbie D. Babcock that "This is my Father's world".