As a young girl, I lived in a small town where sinkholes were common. There was some empty land not far behind my house where there were several large sinkholes. My sisters and I walked out to the land one day, even though we’d been told to stay away from the area. I suppose we wanted to explore and see the holes in the earth for ourselves. They were massive to my small eyes, and I imagined the earth crumbling beneath my feet.
In the same town, a store closed down because someone discovered that the parking lot was on top of a sinkhole. There were cracks in the lot, and the ground beneath could collapse at any given time. The signs were visible, and for safety reasons, people should stay away.
Last year, a sleeping, Florida man was killed when the ground underneath his home opened up and swallowed his house.
I was never too interested in science during my school years, therefore, I didn’t learn much so I had to do a little research to find out what causes sinkholes. I learned that acidic rainwater seeps down through the earth’s surface and eats away at the rock beneath, forming cracks and voids. Then, the loose rocks above begin to slip into the cracks. Eventually, as the holes grow, the surface will just collapse. I found this layman’s explanation from Jon Henley: when there’s not enough solid stuff left underneath to support what is left of the loose stuff above, the whole lot collapses.
I thought Henley’s explanation was a great way to define what’s been happening to my faith.
My spiritual foundation was made up of an angry God who needed to be pleased. I liken the acidic rainwater that eats away at the foundation to the spiritual abuse and manipulation that kept me obedient to overbearing religion and ridiculous rules. Over time, the holes in my foundation appeared. The signs were visible, and church authorities decided I wasn’t safe enough for church members to be around. Eventually, the “loose stuff above,” made up of prayer, Bible reading, Bible studies, church attendance, and a dozen other efforts to appease God, slipped into the cracks. The foundation had to started crumble. I’ve piled grace, love, and faith on top of that failing foundation in a desperate attempt to ignore the holes, but I feel the implosion is near.
I’m asking the questions Christians aren’t supposed to ask — the questions that move a step past doubt into disbelief. I’m exploring the holes and pondering what’s next. What happens when all you’re left with is a gaping hole? Will I remain in the ruins of faith? Or will it be time to rebuild, and if so, what will I choose as my foundation?
Being a Floridian, I understand about those pesky–and tragically-deadly–sinkholes. I appreciate your questions. On what do we ultimately stand? I loved your metaphor of piling on grace, love, and faith to a failing foundation. It reminds me of the old cosmological anecdote (told and retold in various forms over the centuries) related by Stephen Hawkins in his 1988 book, “A Brief History of Time.” As the story goes, a little old lady took issue with a scientists about the reality of our universe, arguing that the earth actually is a flat plate supported by a giant tortoise. The scientist asked what the turtle was standing on. The little old lady countered; “It’s turtles on the way down.” I have no answers for you, but I, too, have attempted to pile on grace and love to the flimsy foundation of religiosity. For me, I’m toying with the notion that, in actuality, it’s grace and love “all the way down.” This makes we rethink what my world would look like if it actually was grounded in that kind of stuff. And, it’s really shifting my paradigm. Thanks again for your poetic voice. BTW, as a pastor, I’m glad you’re asking these questions.
Garry, thank you for being so gracious. I assume these kinds of questions usually aren’t welcomed (at least in my experience, they haven’t been). And just to be fair, I’m asking a lot more questions than I listed in the post. So…why are you glad I’m asking them?
That’s another question I’m glad you’re asking :-). Rebekah, church has, unfortunately, been a place where we’ve been more concerned about right answers than right questions. Because of this, intimacy with God has suffered. Your questions track well with what I read in the Psalms–laments which used to scare me as a pastor. Now I understand that a secure faith often is no faith at all. By such questions, I think God reveals Godself is astonishing new ways–ways that just might take us to that place of renewed life. Your blogs breathe with freshness; a freshness of authenticity that ought to be standard fair for followers of Jesus. I honestly don’t know where your journey will take you, nor do I pretend to be a guide for you. I just think your honest wrestling is a mark of one who takes God more seriously than most Christians who tend to be secure in their faith. Keep asking; for in the asking their is implied seeking. Thanks again for your poetic voice.