Sabbath Devotional: A More Flexible Faith

Over the last few weeks, I have been considering what it looks like to prepare spiritually to be a flexible, faithful and functional disciple in times of uncertainty. The challenges of life seem to be ramping up, and yet I feel somehow ever less resilient. Part of that is just a sign that I am being asked to grow to meet new challenges, but I am also realizing that some of my theological constructs are probably due for some revision. I am recognizing that I have devolved into some patterns of spiritual thought that are no longer serving me and perhaps were never really accurate. 

I’m still in the middle of deep work, but I thought I would nonetheless briefly share one of them here with you today. Essentially, I am trying to reconceive how I define and express the virtue of faith and let go of the false belief that faith will result in certainty.

Instead, I am trying to be more comfortable with the actual language found in Hebrews 11:1, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” To sit in faith means that I am finding substance and evidence of things that are beyond my vision and sometimes even my understanding. It means welcoming in uncertainty and increasing my trust in the Lord even when no resolution to my concerns is forthcoming.

Richard Rohr is one of my favorite religious thinkers and he articulates this approach to faith more beautifully than I can, pushing back on the idea that the opposite of faith is doubt. Instead he posits that the opposite of faith is actually the certainty that we all find so comforting. He says: “My scientist friends have come up with things like 'principles of uncertainty' and dark holes. They're willing to live inside imagined hypotheses and theories. But many religious folks insist on answers that are always true. We love closure, resolution and clarity, while thinking that we are people of 'faith'! How strange that the very word 'faith' has come to mean its exact opposite.”  

I have realized that I have been guilty of this misconception, expecting my faith to functionally act as certain knowledge rather than simply letting it be the evidence of things that I am hoping for but cannot yet see. Why is this potentially problematic? Because when I insist that faith is the equivalent of certainty, I can assume that I know what the outcomes of my “faith” will be. Sometimes I even fall into a transactional relationship with God, believing unconsciously that through my faith I can control what blessings and gifts are given to me. Certainty limits inspiration and possibility, and I am finding that by abandoning it I am more open to the inspiration and workings of the Spirit. Or as described by Alma, “that your understanding doth begin to be enlightened, and your mind doth begin to expand.” (Alma 32:34)  

Instead, I am trying to approach faith in new ways, with no expectations for outcomes. True faith is expressed as a willingness to trust in God during periods of mystery, chaos, confusion, pain and uncertainty. I feel like I am in a period of life where all of these are front and center. But as I have worked to stop connecting faith with outcomes, I feel a deeper connection with God and a greater joy.

In spite of increased ambiguity, I am actually more spiritually resilient. And perhaps paradoxically, I feel the ability to draw comfort from my faith is growing in direct proportion to the increasing chaos. I find my mind living inside hopeful hypotheses that I know I could not have generated on my own. And that is a mystery I cannot fully understand, but feel great gratitude for.

---

Jennifer Walker Thomas is co-executive director at Mormon Women for Ethical Government.