i wonder what God's trying to tell me right now.
today, thursday, for the second day in a row this week, i was swept into heated debate concerning religion. "you don't believe in evolution. you don't believe in evolution." a boy named josh laughed. as he spoke from across the coffee tables in the sixth form common room he balanced his chair on its two hind legs, and was constantly swinging back and forth. it made me quite dizzy. round the group everyone so loudly discussed that when a boy from the other end tried to ask me something, i had to shake my head, point to my left ear and mouth the words I Can't Hear You.
josh went on and on, shooting questions like "so how do you explain..." and making grand conclusions like "it's rational thinking!" (with a momentous drop of his chair back on its four legs). for about an hour he went, confident of what he was saying and of the knowledge he possessed. and i had no doubt that he had his facts right, there is research that supports evolution. i answered questions that were asked of me, like why i believe in the first place and what makes me think it's true. but i was not interested in disproving him. "blind faith," he scoffed. "it's not rational."
my only stance was that he couldn't disprove the existence of God, that faith wasn't meant to be rational, that his success in this 'debate' would not change anything except perhaps his boosted ego. my only stance throughout was that i wasn't even trying to debate with him in the first place. "so call me irrational," i said. "maybe i'm crazy. and i don't care."
in the few moments i was given to think to myself while he went on about science, i realized how sad his life was. how small his world was. how confined, how bound he was to facts, and answers, and rational thinking. they argued that religion was a mere mechanism of the human mind to generate answers to its own questions, despite the fact that their own foundation of scientific belief existed for the same thing: to answer questions. why does the apple fall from the tree? how far away is the sun? why is there night and day? science was born from mystery, and still can't answer the question of whether the chicken came before the egg or not.
in comparison, faith preserves the mystery more than it tries to tear it to pieces. faith magnifies the mystery. faith is the mystery.
the girl who had started the debate by saying, "only God can judge me," (which received a round of laughter round the group) couldn't say much besides the fact that she believed, so all the questions were shot at me. then she left in the heat of it because she had to take an exam. and for a moment i didn't think i could stay on and converse with this science brain who couldn't open his mind even a fraction of a centimeter: i was no theologian, i have not read the Bible cover to cover and much less have extensive historical background about it. i didn't have the photographic memory to remember certain things i have read that are relevant, there is only one chunk of text and sprinkled verses from the bible that have been etched in my mind. all i was sure of was the heart inside me that believed, with eyes, i was small.
for a little more than an hour this went on, and it was quite chaotic. the chairs were arranged in rectangular fashion and the length of space in between the two sides were just enough for two pairs of legs and a coffee table. claustrophobic, it felt like being in a prison where everyone thought they were eternally condemned and fervently made heard their discontent. (an interesting but disturbing scene: "we came from apes! we came from apes!") i was thankful for my seat near the corner where i had two empty seats on either side of me (after the girl had left).
i was even more thankful for the boy who sat beside the science brain josh. he was slumped in his chair, looking downwards in front of him. he didn't say much save for some words in support of what i had said, and "there is a God." he wore a long necklace with a cross pendant hanging from it, it was shiny and stood out from his all-black outfit. he wore the face of the silent "this is bullshit." i ran into his gaze often, and every time he caught mine, his gaze would lock and he would shake his head as if to say with his gray eyes, "don't buy it." it's always a comfort to feel i am not alone.
and in true God fashion, the New Creation devotional i get through email says this today:
"... The devil goes about like a roaring lion trying to stir up fear in people with his roars. But the people who are not devourable are those who refuse to be intimidated by his roars because they know that the true Lion of Judah, Jesus Christ (Revelation 5:5), has already come and rendered powerless him who had the power of death. (Hebrews 2:14, NASB) They know that the devil cannot just do anything to them because the Lion of Judah resides in them, and that He is greater than the devil who is in the world. (1 John 4:4)
... Once the devil knows that you know who you are in Christ and what you have in Him, his days of intimidating you are over, and you are numbered among the undevourable!"
the two discussions i have had within two days this week have such a stark contrast. the one before this surrounded me with more open minds and was a lot more ethical when it came to listening. yesterday, for the first time, felt like a personal testimony. i merely listened to myself speak. and in the light of that, today i realized just how much truth doesn't need to be proven. that even me of little faith believing in truth entails the feeling that it simply radiates. that truth preempts everything else.
today, thursday, for the second day in a row this week, i was swept into heated debate concerning religion. "you don't believe in evolution. you don't believe in evolution." a boy named josh laughed. as he spoke from across the coffee tables in the sixth form common room he balanced his chair on its two hind legs, and was constantly swinging back and forth. it made me quite dizzy. round the group everyone so loudly discussed that when a boy from the other end tried to ask me something, i had to shake my head, point to my left ear and mouth the words I Can't Hear You.
josh went on and on, shooting questions like "so how do you explain..." and making grand conclusions like "it's rational thinking!" (with a momentous drop of his chair back on its four legs). for about an hour he went, confident of what he was saying and of the knowledge he possessed. and i had no doubt that he had his facts right, there is research that supports evolution. i answered questions that were asked of me, like why i believe in the first place and what makes me think it's true. but i was not interested in disproving him. "blind faith," he scoffed. "it's not rational."
my only stance was that he couldn't disprove the existence of God, that faith wasn't meant to be rational, that his success in this 'debate' would not change anything except perhaps his boosted ego. my only stance throughout was that i wasn't even trying to debate with him in the first place. "so call me irrational," i said. "maybe i'm crazy. and i don't care."
in the few moments i was given to think to myself while he went on about science, i realized how sad his life was. how small his world was. how confined, how bound he was to facts, and answers, and rational thinking. they argued that religion was a mere mechanism of the human mind to generate answers to its own questions, despite the fact that their own foundation of scientific belief existed for the same thing: to answer questions. why does the apple fall from the tree? how far away is the sun? why is there night and day? science was born from mystery, and still can't answer the question of whether the chicken came before the egg or not.
in comparison, faith preserves the mystery more than it tries to tear it to pieces. faith magnifies the mystery. faith is the mystery.
the girl who had started the debate by saying, "only God can judge me," (which received a round of laughter round the group) couldn't say much besides the fact that she believed, so all the questions were shot at me. then she left in the heat of it because she had to take an exam. and for a moment i didn't think i could stay on and converse with this science brain who couldn't open his mind even a fraction of a centimeter: i was no theologian, i have not read the Bible cover to cover and much less have extensive historical background about it. i didn't have the photographic memory to remember certain things i have read that are relevant, there is only one chunk of text and sprinkled verses from the bible that have been etched in my mind. all i was sure of was the heart inside me that believed, with eyes, i was small.
for a little more than an hour this went on, and it was quite chaotic. the chairs were arranged in rectangular fashion and the length of space in between the two sides were just enough for two pairs of legs and a coffee table. claustrophobic, it felt like being in a prison where everyone thought they were eternally condemned and fervently made heard their discontent. (an interesting but disturbing scene: "we came from apes! we came from apes!") i was thankful for my seat near the corner where i had two empty seats on either side of me (after the girl had left).
i was even more thankful for the boy who sat beside the science brain josh. he was slumped in his chair, looking downwards in front of him. he didn't say much save for some words in support of what i had said, and "there is a God." he wore a long necklace with a cross pendant hanging from it, it was shiny and stood out from his all-black outfit. he wore the face of the silent "this is bullshit." i ran into his gaze often, and every time he caught mine, his gaze would lock and he would shake his head as if to say with his gray eyes, "don't buy it." it's always a comfort to feel i am not alone.
and in true God fashion, the New Creation devotional i get through email says this today:
"... The devil goes about like a roaring lion trying to stir up fear in people with his roars. But the people who are not devourable are those who refuse to be intimidated by his roars because they know that the true Lion of Judah, Jesus Christ (Revelation 5:5), has already come and rendered powerless him who had the power of death. (Hebrews 2:14, NASB) They know that the devil cannot just do anything to them because the Lion of Judah resides in them, and that He is greater than the devil who is in the world. (1 John 4:4)
... Once the devil knows that you know who you are in Christ and what you have in Him, his days of intimidating you are over, and you are numbered among the undevourable!"
the two discussions i have had within two days this week have such a stark contrast. the one before this surrounded me with more open minds and was a lot more ethical when it came to listening. yesterday, for the first time, felt like a personal testimony. i merely listened to myself speak. and in the light of that, today i realized just how much truth doesn't need to be proven. that even me of little faith believing in truth entails the feeling that it simply radiates. that truth preempts everything else.
