Faith & Doubt

It is mum’s fault. She accidently exposed me to God while she herself, and dad, were and still are atheists. There was no God or Jesus in my home ever. Except from at bedtime. There was this lullaby that most parents sing, I suppose. It goes kinda like this:

Dear God, my life is good.
Thanks for all that I have got.
You are good, keep me in your heart.
Dear God never leave me,
Watch out for little and for big
God save mum and dad
(and all the children on Earth) *optional extra line

Anyway – there was this cool fella called God who watched out for everybody. I chose to keep that image close to my own heart. I figured that dad goes to work every day to build something grand and that all other dads did the same thing. This God was probably the boss of dads.

You can’t really avoid hearing about Jesus in some context. Keep in mind I grew up in one “of the last soviet states”. In my childhood we could get the governmental channel and two Swedish channels by air. The Church is separated from the government, but our constitution states that we’re building our society on Christian values and we do keep a lot of Christian red days on our calendar. We were reformed Christians here by the time Europeans started to inhabit America. (1536)

Anyway – Jesus was there. He was crucified by all means. I kept asking myself what all the fuzz was about. We’re talking about a guy that lived 2000 years ago and they murdered him viciously. This is not a happy tale. How does this make sense in any way?

I had this neighbor, Finn. His parents were Christians and thus he was attending Sunday school. He had this impressive book of records with stars in it and everything. I was excited. I was gonna be with Finn at this Sunday school meeting.

The only thing I remember, and boy did it stick, was the message of the returning Messiah. God himself promises this glorious event to take place. The end of the world has been believed and predicted many times since Jesus died, but apparently nobody knows. In fact, adults can’t answer questions like if God exists, where we come from, where the universe ends, where money comes from or exactly what happens inside mommy’s tummy when she’s with child. I quickly discovered that my parents’ knowledge was severely limited. I figured that God gave me Jesus and then he died for me, right? He died for my sins. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I thought that his fate in itself carried a powerful message. Being some five years old, I quickly connected the dots. If Jesus was to come back, he’d most probably be crucified all over again. He’d definitely need some help. My help.

This serious mind project just developed from here on. What’s gonna happen upon return? What would Jesus do? Absolutely everything ran through these filters even though my solutions didn’t necessarily apply to me. I could do whatever I wanted, because in time I’d balance my karma. And if I would be fortunate enough to stumble upon the risen Christ within this lifetime – I’d even improve my karma further. Yes, I was able to think like this from as long as my memory goes back.

But how to recognize and confirm the identity of the second Messiah? People claiming to be Jesus would sure be lunatics and easily dismissible. But in the end, if he is coming back, some person would necessarily have to step forward and identify himself as the Messiah. This person could not be a woman, black, gay or disabled. Jesus would by definition return perfect in order to create as little doubt as possible. This is actually not my view. It’s rationalizing how the world actually works, and it really is this ugly.

In the beginning, before the big bang, was the word. The idea of the word is our God who created the universe with the word in His mind. And even if time really isn’t – our Lord is old.

I had an uncle. Dad had two brothers. Dad was the oldest, born in 1952. The next oldest brother was an alcoholic. He had no children and he paid me a lot of attention since I was his “favorite nephew”. He died in the middle of the 90’s. 40 years old. All his organs shut down simultaneously. His ring muscles gave way for a pool of blood while he held his younger brother’s hand and said: “Brother – the church bells are ringin’ out for me. Bye.”

But this is about the younger uncle, my favorite uncle. The one who never showed up at Christmas because he’d be in jail. The one who had a gun and wasn’t drunk.

He was on drugs. A classic junkie. As a child I had trouble grasping the fact that he had left four kids behind with four different women. What was it about drugs that could lead a man this astray?

The only beef I had with God was how he told Abraham to sacrifice his son to prove his love for God. I thought that was a really cruel thing to subject Abraham to.

This whole picture looks more nuanced now. My uncle became 61. He was 35 back when his older brother died. In the years between I would get to know my uncle through the needle.

All my friends are also dead. Most didn’t turn 30. My daughter is still out there, but lost to me.

Why would God wish all this misery upon anyone? How does it make sense to trust a God displaying such disturbing behavior?

Ok guys, what I did learn thoroughly was what free will means. I never actually blamed God for any of my trouble. It was always obvious that I had some choices. Looking to my uncle to comprehend how a man can choose death by his own free will. I haven’t died yet, but I sure know where my uncle was coming from.

I was supposed to have it all. For a short time there, I did. Did it make me happy? It’s probably the greatest lie I’ve lived. Mortgage, 3 cars, 4 kids, 8-4pm job. What happened? Truth be told, I strayed from my God.

I knew what position my project was meant to have, but I was willing to sweep all the psychosis related experiences under the rug. For the company of a woman who wasn’t in particular nice to me. I was a dick too.

But seeing God’s presence everywhere can be very intense. From the minute I realized I was alone, I have spent years and years struggling with the exact same doubts. Me? Really? This can’t be real, but I’m seeing it clear as day psychotic or not.

And now we’re having this talk about faith. I think it’s natural to deny the very same thing you try to believe. The day Jesus is real, that will be the result of a long period of observation culminating in the conclusion that Jesus Christ is alive. Hearing it and seeing it, but believing? It’s actually ridiculously hard whatever your original belief status.

So – hosting His spirit… Yes, God moved in permanently. He started by declaring my mind a disaster area, and he started taking charge of my behavior as well as tormenting me for all the dirt He found up there all over the place. From this process the term mental hygiene was established on the agenda. I used to be a wreck back then, and I had so many things on my mind that wasn’t really working for me. Just the fact that I couldn’t hide my butthole-mind from the Man upstairs, was incredibly humiliating. This is also when I get that useful tip: don’t take yourself so seriously all the time.

Today my mind is one with Him. Hiding stuff isn’t possible, so I had to learn to live with certain things being evident and still respect myself in spite of my apparent nudity all the time. After some time in this awkward and uncomfortable situation, you realize you gotta let it go. God sees you naked all the time. No use to inflate my ego now. It’s just gonna make me even more ridiculous. Again – not too seriously *chuckling*.

Is believing in something bigger than yourself useful? I’d say that if you’re going somewhere unknown, Jesus might just be the companion you’ve been looking for. I’m determined not to preach, but it’s only reasonable that God has a place in my picture. Perhaps being introduced to the Trinity in a way that let’s you make up your own mind is all you need to find yours. No pressure nor standing in the way.

Have a great Sunday nevertheless 😊