Part 2.
“...this I know; for the Bible tells me so.” This left me with another dilemma. How did I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I could believe what the Bible told me? How fickle were the man made rules and the tide of popular opinion. I began life surrounded by a small church family of cape dresses, coverings, black stockings, plain suits, and black hats. But by the time I was entering the middle school years, the churches I had attended as a child were dividing.
(In the rural area I grew up in, it was customary for two small Mennonite churches to share services, so as to not have to heat both church buildings in the winter. One Sunday we would have services at one church, the next Sunday it would be at the other church. When one “joined the church,” as a teenager or adult, he or she chose one or the other congregation to officially affix one‘s name to, on the membership list. In this way, there were technically two congregations. But because both congregations worshipped together each week; to a little girl, it felt like one church.)
By the late 1980’s, most of these “conjoined churches” had divided into their respective congregations and held services at both churches each Sunday. The churches my family attended were the last two in our area to hold alternating services. But the two congregations were being pulled two different directions--one group felt that the more conservative, “plain,” lifestyle was being compromised; and that important scriptural doctrines were being compromised in the process. The other group (the one my parents were members of) felt that there was more room for differences of opinion in man-made rules such as how one was to dress, and whether one allowed television in the home, etc.; without violating important scriptural doctrines and principles. In 1988, the two congregations officially separated and began holding separate services at each church, each week. I was sad. My Sunday School class that had been full of little girls was now just me and one other little girl. We had always been friends--it was not that we disliked each other--but it felt terribly lonely to be just the two of us. We missed our other friends. My dad’s parents were members of the congregation that we now belonged to, but my mother’s parents had stayed with the other congregation. I missed seeing both sets of grandparents each week in church.
And now, with some of the man-made rules being relaxed, I felt adrift. If i had struggled to please God before, how was I to do so now? Where was I to get my compass?
It was over this time that i began to want to read the Bible. I had never thought of doubting it or questioning its truth. But now, I needed to find a direction to go. I needed a compass. If I were not ensconced in church rules, I needed to know how “plain” one had to be to please God. Now there were so many things that were not “wrong” anymore. I even had the freedom to wear jeans instead of skirts, if I wanted to. And the pressure to wear a head covering was eased considerably. Now that the stricter dress rules were relaxed, there were ladies in our church who did wear coverings, but some who did not. Some had exchanged the traditional white “basket” shaped coverings for a “doily” or a small veiling of black or white netting. The pressure to wear a covering was the main reason I had not wanted to join the church up until that point. When the two congregations were combined, wearing a covering was a requirement to join the church. I was not ready to wear a covering. If there was so much disagreement between mature adults on which covering was acceptable to God, how could I, as a child, know which one He would approve of? And if I couldn’t know for sure which He approved of, why wear it?
Which direction should I head? Was faith in God a reasonable thing? Why believe the Bible at all? I kept coming back to what I had experienced so far in my life. In spite of the murkiness of the man-made rules, I couldn’t believe man could have just appeared, “poof!”...out of nothingness into this remarkably crafted world we live in. Evolution did not make sense to me. I grew up in one of the most beautiful areas of the country. Many days, the view from my house was poetry in motion. Ever changing, alive with color and sound. All around me were beautiful rolling hills and mountains and valleys, woods with tall trees, the changing of the seasons...I could not buy that each tiny blade of grass, each snowflake with a different design, the majesty and beauty of mountains and valleys and clouds and flashes of lightning and rolling thunder...that all of that could just appear, “poof.” I just couldn’t believe that. But, if Someone created it all...Who was that Someone? All this beauty had to be made by Someone Who was Goodness itself. Beautiful, terrifying Goodness.
It had to be real. He had to be real.
And the Bible, the Story of the Ages, made sense. A God who was Goodness and Love, creating the world. Man, the crown of His creation, made in His image. Mankind not as little gods, any more than a copy of a Stradivarius is the real thing. Only He--God--could sound the real chords, the true sweetness of His song. But mankind could echo His music. Mankind was made to echo His music, to commune with Him.
Then, the Fall. Seeds of doubt planted in the mind of Adam and Eve, planted by the force of evil in the form of a serpent. Did God really say not to eat of the tree? Does He really know what is best for you? And so, Eve doubted...and disobeyed. She gave some of the fruit to Adam...and Adam doubted, and disobeyed too. Sin, corruption, sadness, sickness, death...all of this entered His beautiful world. Can any of us doubt that that exists? Can we doubt that there is a force of evil, bent on twisting all that is good and right and true? But even evil can only take the Goodness and twist it. Evil cannot create. It cannot boast of anything original. But twisting the Goodness was enough to satisfy the purpose of the Evil. It had entered the heart of mankind and separated the crown of creation--mankind, made in the image of this powerful, beautiful, terrifying Goodness...evil had separated it from its Creator. And the heartbreak and sadness that the Creator must have known...
His very nature being Goodness, how could He commune with His creation, now corrupt? How could He bring them to Himself? The payment for sin was death. Death and sin meant eternal separation from Him, because He who was Goodness could not allow corruption in His Heaven. He gave His laws to mankind through the Jews, His chosen people...laws not meant to bind them, but for their good and to show them His nature. And to show them how they, in their corruption, could never, never satisfy His Goodness. The blood of animals...innocent and unblemished animals...served as the poor sacrifice for their sins. But the Creator was not finished. When He had banished Adam and Eve from His beautiful garden, He had promised that one day, He would send a Redeemer. That most beautiful but most heart wrenching part of the Story...the Redeemer.
The mystery of Jesus...God’s own Son. God’s Son sent to mankind, to be born as a baby, to be the ultimate sacrifice. He never sinned, but He allowed the sin of the whole world to be placed on His shoulders. He never sinned, but He allowed Himself to be placed on a cross, to die the death of a criminal, to pay the price for our sins. But He didn’t stay dead! He arose again, to ascend to Heaven to sit at the Father’s right hand. Where He now intercedes on our behalf to the Father--intercedes for those of us who have admitted our sin and accepted His sacrifice on our behalf. The blood of Jesus, the perfect Lamb of God, now the eternal sacrifice covering our sins.
I read this great Story over and over, not wanting to miss anything, searching for meaning. What did this mean for me? If it was all real, if Jesus had covered my sins, I didn’t have to strive in vain to please God. He loved me. Jesus loved even me.
It had to be real. He had to be real.
Do I know without a shadow of a doubt? Do I know without a shadow of a doubt that my dining room chair will hold me when I sit down at my table for supper tonight? Maybe not, but it looks strong and sturdy. It has held bigger people than I. i have seen it do so. It has not let me down yet; never have I pulled it out from the table, settled my body into it only to have the legs give way and me come crashing to the floor. So I will sit down in my chair tonight for supper with faith that it will hold me.
So I will hold onto my faith in God. And my faith in His Son, and in His ultimate good purposes here in this world. I do not pretend to always understand Him or His ways. But I don’t have to understand everything about Him to recognize when He is there. He has never yet let me come crashing to the floor...but He has held me up, more times than I can count.
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