Fearless Faith

“Return to Sender” was emblazoned across the front of a personal letter that found its way back to my mailbox. I verified the information and came to the conclusion that everything on my end was correct: the address, the postage, and more than adequately legible handwriting, though I’ve been known to provide worse. Of course, the fact the correspondence inside the envelope was hot off the press and would not age well with time, played into my frustration.

Undaunted, I sacrificed a fresh stamp, made out a new envelope, and took special pains to insure all was perfect. I even discarded an odd-sized envelope in favor of a more standard size. In spite of working the problem to a logical endpoint, my mind was adamant that the concern had to do with something I did or did not do correctly, even though all seemed right. The letter was indeed returned to the sender a second time, prompting a search through my smart phone, local telephone directory, and more than one stack of business cards, hoping each would provide a definitive word on the address.

Sure enough, scrawled on a marking tab attached to the margin of a directory page, was a note left by a helpful person some time age; “Make sure you send anything to this address as ‘street’ and not ‘avenue’, unless you want it returned.” Well, now was a fine time to inform the sender of such a likely result. Nonetheless, it solved my postal anxiety even if I didn’t hear back from the person I had presumably contacted.

We don’t like having things returned to us when we imagine them to be sent and received appropriately. After all, we know what to expect in sending letters, so how could any of it go wrong? Therein lay the error of my first assumption … the assumption that nothing changes. It becomes a limiting factor that can dismantle a theological position faster than Delilah catching Sampson’s eye. When we have grown up with a particular narrative that we base life assumptions on, and all has seemed to work fairly well thus far, we have little incentive to examine our faith more broadly. Even the slightest consideration for doing so can be intimidating and challenging, including unwanted critique from others.

The part that gets exciting, however, is the moment when something we attach great value to is returned to sender for more clarification. Really? You mean to say there could be something more to learn and to apply of our Christian notions? If we can get over the affront of feeling personally challenged to look our faith squarely in the eye, then we also stand a good chance of stumbling across insight that we have never before considered. And when we do, rarely can we keep it all to ourselves because it is simply too good not to share.

To be part of a group that urges one another on, eventually results in “return to sender” notifications demanding something more: additional thought, or study, or time to deliberate without coercion or hard expectations of conformity to denominational influence. The ability to take in diverse viewpoints, weighing and balancing their merits in regard to others, represents a gift of high value. Add to the mix participants eager and willing to share challenges to their personal faith in unprecedented ways, and one begins to more fully appreciate the safety that authentic fellowship represents.

Return to sender? Why not? Just don’t take it too personally. We all have something more that we could stand to hear or learn.