Where I Am At With My Faith

Someone close to me asked me this question recently: “Where are you at with your faith?” It’s a good question, the right question to ask from time to time.

In recent years, nearly all of the change in my experience of Christian faith has arisen out of a seemingly small change in my understanding of how that faith began. Namely: I no longer think I had any choice in the matter.

In the past, a premise I might have agreed with is that it is important for every person to make a decision whether to believe in Jesus Christ. I no longer believe that. Within my own understanding, I have come to appreciate that such a decision is not humanly possible to make.

That is, it is not possible for human beings entirely created by God and fallen from God to overcome their predicament of their own accord in order to see the divine and choose him. God must make the choice instead, illuminating the human being. Once he does, the choice is made. I no longer see any role for my own will in coming to faith. Rather, I am someone who (like other believers in this world) was awakened at a particular point in his life into perceiving and accepting the lordship of Jesus Christ. I have belief because God chose for me to have belief.

He has decided who will have faith (Ephesians 1:5). He awakens that faith according to his own choice and timing (John 3:8). He renews a person’s mind, and transformation flows out of that renewal (Romans 12:2). Jesus said, “You did not choose me, but I chose you” (John 15:16).

The preceding paragraph includes scriptural citations the way Christian writing does. Yet that little glut of citations actually underrepresents one of the richest treasures I have found in this shift: an increase in the personal nearness and even clarity of scripture. All of a sudden, Romans makes a different kind of sense than it did before. John’s gospel makes sense. In large part, that is what the latest book I am working on is all about.

And how I am supposed to live my life now also makes sense. While we cannot choose our belief, we have all manner of choices to make once God has awakened belief. He is renewing minds and calling out believers because there is a purpose he is working through the world. The book I’m working on is about that as well.

(An aside: Some who are reading right now know of terms including “Calvinist” and “Reformed” that connect to the idea of our faith being chosen. Since those two terms connect to other ideas as well, I am leaving those terms alone for now.)

I still need people, even if people do not will or choose who has faith. I needed to be given the gospel. It’s just that the gospel was meaningless before I had ears to hear, and God provides and opens those ears. On the surface, therefore, the appearance of how I came to faith is unchanged. I might no longer say that anyone “led me to faith,” but I would gladly and gratefully say that there were people who led me to the gospel.

Yet this recognition of God’s choosing and awakening those who believe is not a technical or a harmless position to come to. To the contrary, it is a lonely one. The change affects other points of belief. It affects one’s understanding of heaven and hell. It affects my understanding of my call, because the point is no longer to make a choice and then urge others to choose the same way. The point instead is to make this life a living sacrifice (Paul’s words), finding and realizing the value for the Lord out of the choice he has made where my small life is concerned. I thus find myself often now in positions of quiet estrangement, aware that the person before me is assuming that I hold a particular view because I am a Christian, when in fact I don’t hold that belief at all.

This is why the book I am working on now is difficult, and why it is taking so long. I want to be careful not to be flip or take shortcuts in the ideas I am exploring. I want to make sure I am being fair with the counterarguments to the positions I am advancing. All of this leads to a lot of rewriting. In a way, even though I have published two books previously, it is as though this coming book is my first one. The themes of the two previous books—that the Ten Commandments are worth our attention, that the existence of God is logically apparent—are both non-controversial ideas to Christian readers. This next book will be much different from that. I will be laying out various ideas that many believing Christians do not hold.