Seeds and Sparks

Sometimes understanding grows like a plant, nurtured from a tiny seed.  Sometimes it lights up like a sudden spark, giving heat and light to those around it.  Healthy environments allow for both types of learning to occur.  I am an especially lucky church member, because I can experience Christian formation at St. Ignatius on many levels.  I can assist in the primary Sunday School class, where the teachers inspire the children with Bible stories of God’s work in the world.  I can volunteer with Vacation Bible School, where we bring sacred stories from the Bible and children’s literature to life.  I can explore the Episcopal faith with our confirmation class, and I can examine the mystery of God’s action in our lives in adult study.  I can observe many stages of the growth process, as we plant the seeds of faith, tend them, and harvest the fruit they bring.

Recently, a conversation in our adult study class illustrated perfectly why I love this church and this community so much.  We were exploring the nature of God in suffering through reading and discussion.  As two of us respectfully and passionately debated our viewpoints, we understood that we saw God in different ways.  Our differing perspectives sprang from our experiences and our personal interpretation of scripture.  I said, “As much as you must believe in your perspective, I must believe in mine.”  Although we disagreed on certain points, we came together in our assertion that the God of Jesus Christ is love, unconditional, personal, active love working in our lives.  Another participant pointed out, “Isn’t it wonderful that there is room in the Episcopal Church for all of these views?”  Through sharing my own ideas and listening respectfully to another, my own view of God widens and deepens--and there is room for greater depth and width within our faith.  

When I first came back home to a Christian church, I was nervous about discussing matters of faith with fellow Christians. I loved to talk spirituality, theology, and the nature of things, usually with a diverse group of believers.  My Unitarian Universalist, spiritual-but-not-religious circles contained atheists, Buddhists, humanists, pagans, and even a few Christians. Amongst these “not-Christian” friends, I often argued the liberal Christian perspective.  I was comfortable in that role.  Upon entering the Episcopal Church, what would I find? Would there be room enough for me--someone who is decidedly affirming of my friends who happen to be LGBT, someone who has serious doubts about the idea of hell, someone who desperately wants to believe in universal salvation?  I didn’t expect everyone to agree with me; maybe I would even gain a different perspective in conversation.   Would I have the opportunity to bump my views against the views of others and experience the spark of greater understanding created by the friction?   When the seeds of our faith are nurtured and strong, we are at our best, listening to each other in love.  At those times, moments of respectful disagreement cause the sparks of illumination to fly. There is room for diverse viewpoints, even (or especially) within the church of Jesus Christ.

When I watch Sunday School teachers captivating children with the story of the Ten Commandments, or analyze the gospel of John with our confirmation class, or discuss the nature of the Trinity with adult friends over coffee, my own faith is tested, challenged, and strengthened.  I see the seeds we plant in children flowering in our young adults and bearing the fruit of the kingdom into the world.  I see my fellow Christians sparking the light of faith, by which the world will see.