What are your experiences of faith and doubt? Has it been a world of faith or doubt?
One thing I like about John Ortberg is that he's not embarrassed at having gone to a high school with the lamest nickname in history. He went to East Rockford High School and their nickname was the "E-Rabs" -- "East... Red ... and ... Black." Whenever I rib him about this, he reminds me that I went to Freeport High School and our nickname was the "Pretzels." Sure, not your most fiersome name but it's a lot better than "E-Rabs." Don't you agree? I mean, we can say "twist them up" but what does an E-Rab do?
Back to the book ... John's known for his wit. Like this story about the human quest to be home and to be home with God and where God is determines where home is. But this story lightens up the theme: "I was mistreated once -- I don't remember now, but I'm sure it was bad -- and I told my parents I was leaving. I packed my very small suitcase and told my mother to call my grandfather; then I sat outside on the curb waiting for him to pick me up.
An hour later, my mom came outside. "He's not coming, you know," she said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Well, for one thing, because he's already raised his family. For another thing, you're not his son. You're our son. And for another thing, you're seventeen years old. You're too old to run away."
Deadly wit. [An E-Rab can say "raised" and not "reared" and get away with it. Pretzels know better.]
But this book is serious. A chp called "The Leap," full as it is of good stories and quotations, speaks of moments, mountain top experiences, that create space in humans for faith to develop. "You hear an inspirational talk. You watch the birth of a child. You receive an answer to prayer. Sometimes it's beauty that pierces your heart -- a series of notes in a song, a phrase in a book -- and you know that God is there. Faith is born" (68). But doubt will follow; doubt is the valley below the mountain. Faith involves a leap, but he's doesn't see the leap as irrational -- and this is so good about this book. "It does not mean choosing to believe an impossible thing for no good reason" (73). It's a choice. It's commitment. It's betting the farm.
So many themes in this book, including what "hope" (in things, in a person) is, the silence of God -- he sees his doubts stemming from a lack of evidence, the negative evidence of failing Christians, the problem of pain -- may be the best chp of the book and worth the price itself -- and other chps on how doubt sometimes goes bad (falling into skepticism and cynicism and rebellion) and how uncertainty is a gift (the nature of genuine relationships), and why John believes (he gives his arguments).

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My high school team nickname was the "Ironmen." Even the women's teams were the "Ironmen." I wonder if that has changed. (The name came from the number of abandoned iron mines in the area that had helped create the town 100 years before.)
Doubt is not the opposite of, or enemy of faith. Apathy is the opposite and enemy of faith. If you doubt you are at least engaging with the truth, and I believe that God will honor that engagement. Apathy is the faith-killer, not doubt. Most of the atheists that I have known have not really been doubters, but, rather, apathetic to the questions that faith raises. They bother to engage faith questions only when they think something "religious" may be intruding into their hedonism.
I tend to have cycles of scrutinizing my christian beliefs and I always come back to what I can live with. It isn't actually saying this christian thing is truth, but rather that I can't live with the alternatives. So I take the step over the stream to the christian side and put my belief and faith there. That's how I live with the dichotomy.
Listened to his sermons on Faith and Doubt online. The one on Help My Unbelief is one of the most helpful sermons I've ever heard. He gets the human heart and he's willing to open up his so we can see our own.
I've had particular trouble in prayer as of late. Sometimes I feel like I'm just talking with myself. What makes it so bad is that its not like the times where I pray and there is just nothing. I pray and think I hear the voice of God, but it sounds so much like my own that I can't decide if I'm just answering my own questions. I wonder if I am becoming delusional.
Rebeccat, I know how you feel. But I have never judged "feelings" as having any relationship to faith. Faith is a decision as to which side of the fence I will stand on. I assume God is in charge. I pray and assume God is listening. Like you sometimes I think God is speaking to me (but in an extremely subtle way) but I couldn't truly be sure it wasn't just my own mind telling myself what I needed or wanted to hear. Prayers seem to be answered but I can't be sure it isn't coincidence. There is very little that I could point to a skeptic and say "Here is the thing that proves my faith." And that is not a bad place to be. Our faith should have a bit of bend to it, so it doesn't snap when facts and feelings prove us wrong. Some of the most dangerous people are those who have NO doubt that God is speaking to them.
I still am battling my inner atheist and when I feel my faith hanging by a worn thread I pray from one of my prayer books with a vengeance.
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