Faith at a crossroads
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After many years of wandering in an agnostic wilderness, about six years ago I wrote a shy confession concerning my return to the Christian faith. It was not so specific that it lept off the page, but those who knew me well enough realized something had changed. My confession was written in verse, the subject a shy little NZ kiwi. Yes, that is it there to the left. Following that event came a quest for Biblical knowledge and I read voraciously, asking questions of my Christian friends, and with grateful thanks to a couple of them in particular, received some amazing answers coupled with mature guidance and counsel. In the first year I registered on a friend’s Christian forum to learn more of the faith, and was the 13th person to do so. Was thirteen lucky or unlucky? Those superstitions do not really bother me, but I was very selfconscious concerning my newfound faith. Some more verse speaks of that…
It’s not always easy to bare one’s soul concerning matters that are profoundly meaningful to oneself and may engender criticism and scorn from others. Writing this journal does not always come easily to me for that reason, even when I am known to many only as Judah. Even Judah comes up for evaluation, and by a largely faceless audience who will go away without leaving any response although that doesn’t deny there are reactions. As I once wrote elsewhere, I have pondered the wisdom of sharing (blogging) such things…
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So often the wisdom of this world is folly to God (1 Corinthians 3:19) and worldly folly is wise indeed, and sharing one’s spiritual journey may help encourage others “out there” whom I have never met. With that in mind, I will continue to tell of my journey…
My time spent in England included visits to numerous ancient cathedrals. We arrived at one of them just as a Holy Communion service was beginning. Troubled by all the difficulties in the Anglican communion, plus some other less worthy reasons, I had resisted attending any church and the Lord’s Supper. However, as a matter of obedience, this was already weighing quite heavily on me. Our Lord had said “Do this…” and I was not. So in Salisbury Cathedral, for the first time in 34 years, I did. The presence of God in those moments was overwhelming - a huge holy presence that filled the whole space around me, myself right there in the midst where even the walls seemed to have soaked in all the prayers of the ages and were too sacred to touch. Years of resistance had fallen away and I was “back in the fold” once again.
There was no staying away after that. Back home again, and feeling very new to it all, I attended a midweek Communion service at my local Anglican parish church. Had I known what was going to happen, my courage might well have left me long before I got there. The congregation was few in number, the presiding priest spoke a short and prophetic sermon, and those words were my utter undoing. At the mention of those old English cathedrals, such God-filled holy places that even the walls seemed to have soaked up the prayers… I was suddenly awash with tears. This was embarrassing. I wanted desperately to become invisible, to disappear into the back wall, to be anywhere else instead. It wasn’t to be. What a homecoming!
I have been very fortunate the past couple or so years, while not attending church at all, to have an “online vicar” - Vic, my friend, Anglican priest, pastor, and Christian brother. While in England we met in person too. During my teenage years I had a charismatic experience which I “shelved” when I walked away from my faith, and which I left untouched until very recently. Since returning home, I knew all of my life needed to be brought into the light which meant revisiting that experience from way back. Talking with Vic (so easy to do so on Skype!) whose own spiritual gifting, discernment and counsel, plus some wonderful prayers, finally made spiritual sense of that early experience for me. The gifts I received back then have been restored and now have a proper place in my life. They are certainly real, and I am experiencing a deep-seated joy, and peace, and making of peace with people where there has been lack of love in the past. As Vic prayed there was a further experience for me of prophetic words, ones deeply comforting and transforming. These are very rich experiences of the Holy Spirit. They leave me feeling very much humbled, thoughtful, prayerful, and incredibly touched by how profound is such an experience of Him. God is so good, and His grace is astounding. Once having tasted the reality of the living God, there truly is no other way to live.
I have a new vicar as well, the one where I have found a place to worship, that being my local Anglican church. Archdeacon Peter, thank you for being so welcoming, encouraging and accepting of me, a stray sheep who wandered in from being outside for far too long. I don’t know exactly where this earthly life is heading for me, but I am certain of something… a heartfelt gratitude for all my Christian friends. You are the church, the body of Christ. I don’t know where I’d be if it was not for you all.
