Fearless Faith

It was time for something to change regarding a worn and splintery edge-grain fir floor. Options were rather simple but limited: tear out and replace, sand and refinish or lay new prefinished flooring over the old. Sensible arguments could be made for any of the choices. Tearing out would likely expose any flaws that might be of concern regarding the current floor and allow for a more thorough inspection that might discover particular problems since the house was built in 1917.

On the other hand, the current floor appears to have many years of life remaining in spite of several small repairs that are needed. Aesthetically speaking, a good sanding and finish would do it wonders and its original character would continue to be fully on display. Years of marginal care, however, resulted in unwanted stains and gouges. New prefinished oak atop the original fir would not only wear longer but also be more cleanable.

It is easy to imagine the three floor layers as metaphors for theological understanding. The subfloor is essentially the underpinning of our faith, crafted to provide foundational support for the life of the house and to provide a platform on which to build further structure. It is rarely perfect, or of only one design, but it does provide necessary support to allow desired construction to continue.

The middle layer covering the house’s original sub floor constitutes faith perspectives that have worn over time so that even the smallest of marks and physical damage is known and accommodated. It is where the rubber meets the road on our faith journey, including the damage and scars that come with everyday life. Wear and tear bring with it the reality of growing in ways that are not always comfortable, a crucible of sorts filled with challenges and trials of all kinds.

A newer more beautiful understanding is realized in the top finished layer. This most visible exposed layer represents the culmination of what we have learned thus far of our place in this world. The observable universe, while awesome and beautiful, is merely a lead-in to the best of what is yet to come. In fact, as soon as the newest latest top layer is hammered in place, wear begins anew. What have we learned, what will be learned, and how quickly might we prepare for an uncertain future?

Will we have the courage to delve right in and repair or mitigate any theological damage as we become aware of it? Will we consider all the options before us, not simply plodding our way through the past and hoping for a better future, but truly living into that future? The social, cultural, and religious structures we build are predisposed to degradation and ruin. We can choose to embrace a dark view or we can look to the light of a living faith. It is an unsettling and disturbing ride at times, but it is also staggering in its potential for good, for looking after one another, for respectful living carried out in ways none of us could dream, Christian and non-Christian alike.

Gratefulness is due the people who have assisted in building our faith to date, but it is in the regular maintenance of those layers that lasting differences will be realized. There is a master architect at work, even if it involves only a few layers of flooring.