The Struggle against Cynicism

Today as we were driving home from the a real church's Palm Sunday service we were listening to Garrison Keillor on a Prairie Home Companion talk about all the upcoming Holy Week service's in the radio program's fictional Lake Woebegone.  He said next week was Easter Sunday when the preacher would "tell us why we believe what we think we believe."  I had to smile a little but then I realized the reason why it was funny to me is because the statement is all too relevant.  Perhaps Keillor is nodding his hat to the idea that religion is a kind of "opiate of the masses" as Karl Marx proclaimed but whether or not that is where he was going what I found in it was the disconcerting reality of struggling to believe.  In many ways, I feel it is a struggle of faith against cynicism.

I just turned 30 this past week.  I am not all that concerned about the "big 3-0" because I see age as rather irrelevant to so many other factors in my life...."age ain't nothing but a number."  People often tell me they think I am younger (I have looked younger and acted youthful often) so that's not really an issue.  Also, I feel more or less satisfied with my life to this point and the direction it's going.  However, as I've gotten older my eyes have been opened more and more to the deep sadness and injustices there are and  the "childishness" of simply believing has become harder and harder.  I want to be mature and yet "childlike" at the same time.  It's constantly a struggle though in a culture that is full of cynicism.  It's true, sometimes I feel like I am in church to have others tell me "why I believe what I think I believe."

I've blogged about this difficulty recently here and I guess I'm just acknowledging that it's still going on.  Yet, when I think of the things I tell myself I believe I also dearly want to believe them.  I think of how audaciously epic Jesus is and his words that cut to your heart.  I think of the incredibly profound and beautiful overarching story of God in the Bible.  Then I think of how mysterious all of it is and it's at once comforting and terrifying.  Part of what makes me cynical at times is when I realize that what I say I believe is not what I live.  I'm distracted by comfort.  I'm distanced from being faithful by my own fears.  So frustrating.  In the end, I guess, if I don't come home to Jesus I know I'll just be a sorry cynic drowning in my own tears.  What I need is his transcendence to break my objections.  I want to believe because if I don't believe I'm left to myself.  I am not enough and I'm certain of that.  If Jesus can "make me enough" through his Grace and Power and also save the world, well, I'm all for that.  Hope, that's what cynics want.  A hope that transforms and makes things really change on the inside and outside...and this is what I'm hoping for now.