2022-11-03 A Meditation on Thinking Through Doubts
“And when his disciples asked him what this parable meant, he said, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God, but for others they are in parables, so that ‘seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not understand.’ Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. The ones along the path are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away. And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.” (Lk 8:9–15 ESV)
Probably the most difficult thing about Christian ministry is acknowledging our doubts. It is easy to look to friend or brother for encouragement, when in fact this is a solo journey, a meager number of friends doing the crossing, an inexplicable lack of reassurance or of compliments for our work in the faith. We find meager affinity, even at times when we are directly it seems built up and reassured. For we harbor inner doubts.
Work we do, identifying all aspects of the soldier’s life as places for steadfast, patient, upbuilding; the soldier is by definition taking sides in things that the common average man or woman on the street may not yet have grown into, not taken up their own crosses in, nor learned of a walking way that has as much a “No!” as it has “Yes”’s. So we hearken to gospel words and understand our own relevance to be something wherein the day’s spiritual reassurance is plenty and sufficient.
The soldier thought to take up a life of service, submission to plain authority in their drill commander, sacrifice, genius situations of trust wherein they are surrounded and informed and relied upon to think through scenarios and to make personal decisions in the matters at hand; the soldier is hard at work in the spirit whilst war is trying to burst through the front door (or through some odd window or other tack of convenience). That is, it behooves each and every member of the company to do battle with their own feeble constitutions.
Others are stronger than us, and each of us can hear a call immediately to share, when once we’ve had a word or a call or an inspiration. For the structure, the substrata, the edifice, is neither here nor there but attained to spiritually; easily, we face down a different kind of mob, one that we approach preferring not to be ourselves the object of discussion, but to lift up, to applaud, a spiritual concept vehicle, a place where we are accepted as one of the gang, as a utility agent towards getting out there some kind of spiritual outlay. We long for that change in the room, when our proper inheritance is stepped into, cutting through the tension and fears hanging in the air.
That is, the foolish proclamation triumphs over the cautious and legalistic baby steps. Someone has a tearful moment. Someone acknowledges some confession relevant to the crowd gathered. Someone in their heart of hearts lays claim to what Christianity is owed each person present: patient hearing, forgiving attitude, selfless love, safe harbor, peace place. In that light, the dynamic changes, and the world opens up: our inheritance with the saints is laid claim to.