Faith and Grace

This is something I wrote a while ago and just now found as I started through a box of books in the garage. I thought I'd keep it here for posterity. Relative to whenever I wrote it, I haven't changed a whit in my thinking.

Musings on Faith and Grace

Cosmic turtle

For me, faith has to do with my connectivity in this world: as an animal with basic needs, as a human being living in a social context. I respond daily, hourly, to the world, believing in certain things: that love is all around me—not necessarily directed at me, but that too; that there is constant renewal in the world, in life (not just death and negativity); that actions, no matter how small, have consequences (though sometimes I forget this, or wish it weren't so); that I am not alone. I once heard someone in recovery say that eventually in her sobriety she moved from having "faith" to having "trust." I'd say for me, it's more a sort of "belief" in the connectivity of things. Faith or trust suggests, to me, that that connectivity could, possibly, break down—but I don't believe it can. It can be disrupted, sure; bad things can happen. But that essential connectivity is always there.

2011 Tōhoku tsunami ripple effects

Faith, trust, belief: maybe I'm splitting hairs. But since I work with words, I like to be precise. The dictionary says, most closely to what it is I feel, that "faith" is "firm belief in something for which there is no proof; complete trust." So there are all three words in one statement. But I'd quarrel with that notion of "no proof": I have proof of the connectivity of the world. Even if we humans screw things up, or if natural disaster happens, that's just part of the big picture. It doesn't mean there's no connectivity. On the contrary.

Ties, Knots, and Connections
Peter Muraay Djeripi Mulcahy

I have faith—I believe—in the human ability to learn from mistakes, and to share that learning, freely and willingly, in order to improve other people's lives. I have faith in the basic human good (and there, yes, that is "faith," since to be sure, there are plenty of humans who aren't basically "good," for whatever reasons). I have faith that I fit into that grand tapestry of human experience, starting way way back and continuing on today. It is that belonging that gives me hope.

Dine Bahane': Navaho creation story

Grace: akin to the Sanskrit गृणाति, grnati: "he praises." Oh, this is an interesting word: "unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification." And other definitions, but this one hits me. Unmerited assistance: we are constantly visited with grace by the very fact (act) of living, whether we ask for it, whether we have done anything to "deserve" it, or not (but, I would add, we'll only see it if we open our eyes to it). Is that not merely because we are part of creation, part of the wonder of it all? This suggests an expansiveness, a willingness not to hunker down and scrabble after our petty human (let's say, material) desires and wants, but to be present, be aware, be receptive and responsive to the mystery of life. For their regeneration: this relates to my belief (and faith) in the constant renewal of the world. We can—but again, only if we remain open and willing—constantly regenerate ourselves, recreate ourselves, and participate in the earth's renewal and regeneration in the process.

I think some of what I think about faith and grace ties to what I've been learning about Buddhism: cultivating happiness in the broadest sense, as individuals linked to all living beings and even to nonliving beings: eliminating suffering, again in the broadest sense. Compassion, in short. So it requires responsibility (the ability to respond). It requires stillness—getting out of our busy, ego-centered minds. It requires feeling love for all creatures. If we can do that, we will be in a state to feel touches of grace, and we will have faith in the "rightness" of things. And we will lead better, fuller, more connected lives. That might start to get at what sanctification means to me.

I believe these things, even if I'm not very good at practicing them . . .