Change, the subject: Ken Orchard’s Thought for the week
‘I’ve never had a static faith and I wouldn’t want one.’
When I was at school, I remember a teacher telling me that I could expect, at different stages of my life, to go in and out of belief in the existence of God, and that that was perfectly normal. I am grateful to him. Those words have stayed with me and, although ‘the existence of God’ no longer seems to be an issue for me, the teacher gave me permission to be a spiritual explorer, and to be unafraid of doubt. His words made it natural for me to have a faith that would evolve throughout my life.
Now, I don’t much care whether or not we apply the term ‘God’ to those things that fill us with awe and wonder. It doesn’t seem to matter very much any more. There are lots of things that exist which I could call ‘God’ if I chose to: the energy of the universe, the fire, the nudge, the swelling and pressing inside of me, the un-asked for passions, the astonishing beauty of nature, the unseen order of things. These could all be seen as God.
This is part of the difference between belief and faith. As I get older my beliefs fall away and my faith gets stronger.
I’ve never had a static faith and I wouldn’t want one. My faith might stop and rest in a particular place for a while, but sooner or later I know it will get restless and need to move on again. My role is to always keep my bags packed and be ready to move on with it – to follow my faith wherever it leads me. Sometimes it takes me in directions that hurt immeasurably, and sometimes I turn a corner to find a view that takes my breath away, leaving me grinning with the sheer joy of being alive.
I have no creed or theological belief system, yet I know it is important to continue with my daily practice of worship/prayer/meditation – call it what you will. I am walking a path, and my faith tells me it’s a path worth walking. I don’t have any idea where the path might take me, and I have no idea who or what I might meet along the way, but, still, I know I must walk it.
I hope my faith continues to shift and change for the remainder of my life. If it stops shifting, I believe I will have died, spiritually. I will have stopped growing and learning. My faith will have stopped evolving. This constant shifting means that I live a sort of spiritually-nomadic life, never settling in one place for too long. But, like most nomadic people, I have a tribe that travels with me.
I’m a social being and sometimes my own company is not enough. Living without a tribe would be bleak. A tribe offers the support of others who understand why I walk this uncomfortable path – people who understand why I can’t just settle. Without my tribe the nomadic life would be a lonely one. I choose a tribe of Friends, and when the faith-shifting journey brings me pain, I know they will walk quietly with me until the pain lessens.
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