On Faith, Doubt and Reaching for Symbolism When Nothing Makes Sense
Foundation.
I have always been someone prone to research and investigation. Well, perhaps that’s not entirely true. Raised in a very fundamentalist household, critical thinking would not become my strong suit until my early 20s. As a child then teenager, I generally just went along with whatever my parents did because that’s what you do. Evangelical Christianity is practically a cultural landmark of Southern California — and doubt is generally not emphasized in one’s faith journey.
When I discovered English philosopher Alan Watts’ book The Book: or The Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are, it was the first time I read something that taught me that I could choose what I believe. I didn’t have to go along with belief systems I was raised in out of fear or guilt. I could also choose what my faith looks like or doesn’t look like. It was 2000 and I remember what a watershed moment in my life this was.
Ironically, the Bible covers the necessity of doubt, however it isn’t widely addressed by most Christians I know. I know very few evangelical parents who would encourage little Timmy to explore his Buddhist literature or theologians with views that oppose theirs. No, groupthink is synonymous with being a part of the evangelical culture of my youth. We all believed the same thing… or else.
In Philippians 2:12-13 it says, “Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” Work out your own salvation. I love those two words — your own. Your faith, your belief system, your ideology is not your mother or father’s, it is not your friend’s, it is your own. Regardless of what faith you believe or don’t believe in, it is your own and it is worth working out — particularly as times get difficult. And they will. It is a guarantee of life. Death and taxes, right? What will you hold on to when it gets difficult?
So this is the foundational lens through which I see things on matters of faith. Rhetorician and literary theorist Kenneth Burke would call it my terministic screen.
Chaos Theory.
Over the last several years, there has been an explosion of people gravitating toward a variety of belief systems to make sense of a world that feels utterly chaotic. From political extremism to a global pandemic to officer-involved shootings to whatever unprecedented surprise greets us each week, we live in a world that hovers in a near-constant state of disarray. It is very often too much to handle.
I had recently taken to reading about a newer philosophy of self-knowledge that combines several ancient practices. I found it fascinating. Aspects of what I read made sense for parts of my life that frustrated me. However, I was left with a lot of questions and sheer exhaustion by the endless amount of information required to better understand this philosophy. Something felt off.
I went with a friend to see the new film Living, an English retelling of Akira Kurosawa’s 1952 film To Live. A slow-moving and wholesome existential picture, the film presents the all-too-familiar themes of trying to enjoy your life before it’s too late and contributing something of purpose. As I sat watching the film, I thought about the philosophy system I had been reading about lately… and the thought came to me, “It’s all just bullshit. It’s all just a grasping for control when everything feels out of control.” I then thought of Kenneth Burke’s definition of man,
“Man is the symbol-using (symbol-making, symbol-misusing) animal, inventor of the negative (or moralized by the negative), separated from his natural condition by instruments of his own making, goaded by the spirit of hierarchy (or moved by the sense of order), and rotten with perfection”
We reach for symbols to make us feel better when nothing makes sense. I was grasping onto this philosophical research this past month for a reprieve…and I caught myself. Deep breath. I am making a symbol to help me better understand. I am craving meaning because things feel dark.
Christianity is still a reprieve to me, however not the extremist fundamentalist version I was raised in. I still work out my faith with fear and trembling, the good news is that it’s now free of the legalistic guilt and judgmentalism I was often surrounded by. Ironically, 12-Step recovery has taught me far more about God’s unconditional love and the concept of God’s will than any church service ever did.
Choose Your Symbol Wisely.
I say all this to say, not all of our symbols work for us and we should question them. I was discussing this with my friend (and brilliant scholar / writer), Eva Hagberg yesterday. She noted that in the 1920s, German philosopher Theodore Adorno pointed how people turn to the magical in times of social crisis. Back then, it was tarot. Today, it is also tarot, it is astrology, it is human design… I would argue, it’s also become extremist forms of certain religions (including Christianity), over identification with political belief systems, wokeness, medical obsessions, grind culture and even dietary lifestyles. Oh, and diagnoses. Diagnoses have become a whole identity system for people. “I am like X because I am Y.” Are you though? It’s all just a symbol. (I have purposely not shared medical diagnoses I have been dealing with on social media because I do not want to over identify with them.)
We are creatures desperately seeking for belonging. We are seeking symbols to help us make sense of nonsense. We need control because we feel so desperately out of control. It is heavy. It feels like being in the center of a F5 tornado once a week.
In my experience, the right answer is generally not the most complicated one. If it takes me 400 pages of reading, lots of money, the need to consult multiple experts, people coercing me to do this or that, constant planetary monitoring and / or obsessive thinking about myself, it’s generally not the path. I have never found release through more thinking. It tends to just make me feel worse.
As I’ve journeyed through an epic winter season of life this past nine months, I have learned that relief is often found in a few simple things:
- acceptance (of one’s lack of control)
- surrender (to not knowing what the answer is or when relief will come)
- meditation (a form of acceptance)
- prayer (a form of surrender)
- recognizing I am not God (a form of both surrender and acceptance)
- self compassion (a form of recognizing I am not God — and a nod to Burke’s line rotten with perfection… because it acknowledges I can never be perfect)
- and going slow (a form of surrender and acceptance to a timeline that is not entirely mine)
Things don’t make sense right now externally and sometimes internally in my world at the moment. However, I have stopped fighting the tide. All I can do is ride the wave. And sometimes, that’s all we need to do. Keep it simple.
Books I have enjoyed that are helping me on this journey:
Self Compassion — Kristin Neff
Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times — Katharine May
Mirrors in the Earth: Reflections on Healing from the Natural World — Asia Suler
Wherever You Go There You Are — Jon Kabat Zinn
