BlueCollarTheologian

But I’m convinced that maturing in one’s faith also entails accepting and enduring moments—and sometimes even lengthy periods—when God seems remote or remains concealed. What is obvious and demonstrable doesn’t require faith. We don’t need faith when confronted with unshakable certainties accessible to our powers of reason, imagination, or sensory experience. We need faith precisely at those twilight moments when our lives and world are full of uncertainty, during the cold night of God’s silence. And its function is not to allay our thirst for certainty or safety, but to teach us to live with mystery. Faith and hope are expressions of our patience at just such moments—and so is love. Love without patience is not real love. I would say it applies both to “carnal love” and to “love for God,” were I not sure there is in fact only one love, that by its nature it is one, undivided, and indivisible. Faith—like love—is inseparably linked to trust and fidelity. And trust and fidelity are proven by patience.

Faith, hope, and love are three aspects of our patience with God; they are three ways of coming to terms with the experience of God’s hiddenness. They therefore offer a distinctly different path from either atheism or “facile belief.” In contrast with those two frequently proposed shortcuts, however, their path is a long one indeed. It is a path, like the Exodus of the Israelites, that traverses wastelands and darkness. And yes, occasionally the path is also lost; it is a pilgrimage that involves constant searching and losing one’s way from time to time. Sometimes we must descend into the deepest abyss and the vale of shadows in order to find the path once more. But if it did not lead there it would not be the path to God; God does not dwell on the surface.