Wholehearted
When I began to doubt my beliefs, I felt like a failure. Faith felt unreachable, and I didn’t know if I could ever find a place in the church again. That in itself was terrifying.
I felt trapped in a strict binary of faith versus doubt. Instead, I needed space for uncertainty and gray spaces—even doubts—within my faith. I also needed to know that I was not alone, that other people wanted to live a life of faith yet faced uncertainty. In addition to a supportive community at Interyear, I found this kindred spirit in the late Rachel Held Evans (to whom I will refer as “RHE”). Her posthumous book Wholehearted Faith speaks to living a life devoted to God in the midst of uncertainty.
To be fully honest about our faith, we must also be honest about our doubts. RHE explains,
“Wholeheartedness means that we can be doubtful and still find rest in the tender embrace of a God who isn’t threatened by human inconsistency. Wholeheartedness means that we can ask bold questions, knowing that God loves us not just in spite of them but also because of them—and because of the searching, seeking spirits that inspire us to want to know God more deeply” (38).
When I faced the most doubts, I held on stubbornly. I didn’t see a way through them. I couldn’t go backwards—doubts don’t just disappear—or forward—I felt intense fear of the unknown—so I remained stagnant. I needed to know that God still tenderly embraced me and to allow myself to be tenderly embraced. I needed to be held as tightly as I held to my doubts.
During my time at Interyear, I have asked bold questions together with my peers. Rather than feeling stagnant, I now feel whole and loved. My questions strengthen our community rather than isolating me. Perhaps this past year has helped RHE’s words land with me: if my doubts connect me to other people, maybe they can also strengthen my relationship with God. I wouldn’t know Tim, Aubren, the fellows, or myself in the same way if I had not dared to ask, “Who am I? What do I need? What do I want?” in their presence. They respect my desire to learn more about myself. So why wouldn’t God?
God knows human zerrissenheit, “a German word that means inner strife, fragmentation, or, as the philosopher William James memorably translated it, ‘torn-to-pieces-hood’ … It refers to the sense of fragmentation and disjoint-edness we experience whenever we operate out of fear and shame” (35). After all, God called Moses to save God’s people when Moses could see only his own inadequacies (Exodus 3). God gave Godself in the form of Jesus to bless the outcast and the marginalized (Matthew 5). When people feel “fear and shame,” God presents Godself to us.
God honors vulnerability. I just need to be vulnerable enough to let God see my own zerrisenheit. While this level of vulnerability is no easy task, I’m learning to come before God with heart-wrenching, soul-crushing honesty. One big, hard, bold question at a time, I’m learning “to know God more deeply” without the “fear and shame” that has ruled my life for far too long (35). RHE knew the struggle, yet thanks in part to her vulnerability, I am learning what it means to live a wholehearted faith, one day and one bold question at a time.