Realism is the Bedrock of Faith

“How are you doing?”

“How are ‘you’ doing?”

Have you noticed that most if not all live interviews begin with that question these days? It is because there is a kind of delicacy around the idea of letting a person tell you “my beloved is on a ventilator” or “my beloved just died” or “we all are sick” or “we are all afraid.” This is a time where the niceties of human communication, normally so rote, resound with soulful meaning.

We are where in this pandemic? Do you know? When it began I thought it would be for a few weeks, flights would be delayed, concerts postponed. But then it became clear, and I am not mincing words here, that to be in the presence of other humans was to risk painful difficult death. Now, some of our regions are “opening.” What does that mean?

For one thing, it means stores are open, salons are open, medical care is open. But the thing they don’t like to talk about (at least here in the US) is that you still are likely to become ill if you go out there and do those things. And for me and my husband, both 68, and between us, trust me, we have every “pre-existing underlying condition” imaginable, for us, even going to the grocery store is risky business.

So, do you think we are going to go to restaurants? Think again. Do you think we will go back to the gym? Think again.

What about churches? The Episcopal Church is well-connected, even in these times; the clergy are meeting regularly and congregations are meeting regularly and worship is regular—almost all of it in digital form. We discuss the merits of reopening buildings and so far, most congregations are stating a preference for continued social-distancing to preserve everybody’s health. There is no doubt that God is with us in our sheltered places and that we are in unity with one another as we are all in unity with God.

It is a beautiful spring in Oregon; it is about to be summer. I cannot begin to describe the beauty of nature awakening here the last three months or the amazing sequence of creation tending to itself. Every time I wander out in the morning to get my newspaper (The Oregonian is delivered four times a week on paper, which I love … the other three days it’s Ipad time!) I marvel at the sheer beauty of my driveway, let alone my neighborhood, let alone the forest in which we live and the brilliant blue sky canopy … and I know if I drove down to the bottom of the hill to the south I could see Mount Hood in glory.

My goodness, how could such beauty be host to such illness? It sets up something as well-known in my academic discipline of information as it is in psychology—cognitive dissonance—something that makes so little sense the brain has trouble wrapping around it. In information systems cognitive dissonance is known to be the reason most people walk away from a system without even hitting “enter” a second time. The psychological parallel is similar—most of us walk away from cognitive dissonance. Its easier to look up at the sky and the trees again than to contemplate the confusion.

In the Church, today is Trinity Sunday, the first Sunday after Pentecost, the celebration of the Trinity of God, Christ and Holy Spirit. Today’s Gospel is the end of Matthew’s Gospel (28: 16-20) where we find the well-known “Great Commission.” Jesus tells the disciples to “go … make disciples … baptize …teach” and promises that Jesus will be with all disciples always. The essence of this commission is that it is for disciples, who are humans, and all humans have doubt.

You see, doubt is a critical part of faith. Without doubt there can be no faith. Faith is always a moral decision to rely on God, which means relying on each other, in the presence of doubt, which is not lack of faith but is realism.

As communities reopen we ask ourselves, so what? Just because things are open doesn’t mean it is safe to be out there. Just because things are open doesn’t make it safe to fly or gather. The recent uptick in cases is demonstrated to be the result of Mother’s Day and Memorial Day “parties”—both took place before the lockdown was “opened.” The roiling protests, holy and blessed as they are, make it worse, of course, because the protesters likely are spreading the virus which makes it even more dangerous for people like you and me to go to the grocery store. It means it will be even longer before we can reunite with people we love who are miles away.

How is this conundrum like the doubt of the very human disciples? How is it that even after seeing Jesus, touching Jesus, eating with Jesus on the shore … they still do not quite believe? It is because the cognitive dissonance of resurrection is too great for the brain. They see, they grasp, they believe, but they also doubt—there is no alternative because it is in this realism that faith is strongest and most secure.

Faith relies on feelings; feelings rely on human reactions to each other and to creation. It is because they “know” Jesus that the disciples believe. It is in our comprehension by feeling that we find the faith that transcends the doubt of cognitive dissonance.

Realism is the bedrock of faith. The love that is God that comes from and through God is the realism of love that infuses all of life. It is the realism of God’s love that is the foundation of our faith, even in times of dissonance.

So go ahead and question. It’s good for you and for God too. Think of it like a small child asking “why” a thousand times—it just builds up the bond of love between the child and beloved adults. Ask “why.”

But also remember to walk in love, to “go … make disciples … baptize …teach.”

 

Trinity Sunday (Genesis 1:1-2:4a; Psalm 8 Domine, Dominus noster; 2 Corinthians 13: 11-13; Matthew 28:16-20)

©The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.