I learned a great deal years ago when my faith was challenged to its very core. This occurred in divinity school. I am fond of calling the school I went to a non-christian divinity school because I was classmate to Jewish and Buddhist students, as well as Christians who defined their beliefs in a radically different manner than I. For example, my parables professor stood at the end of our course and proudly exclaimed that he had just found a way to be a Christian and not have to have Jesus be God. This to me was truly incomprehensible and, in fact, was then (and probably still now is) a heretical statement!!!

The (not-so) short version of my story is that I went through two semesters of weekly theological questions (like “Was Jesus born of a virgin?” and “Do you believe in original sin? If so, is it passed on biologically?”). Each week, all I had to do write was a one page, handwritten response. Not one of my 32 responses was intelligible to any of the students. At the end of the two semesters, I said to the discussion group, “I don’t know what I believe; I know that I still believe, but right now I do not know what. And it will take me at least three months to figure out what.” This turned out to be accurate. Three months later, I found myself on the beach reading Elton Trueblood’s book, “A Place to Stand.” He quoted C.S. Lewis who said that either Jesus is God, or he was a crazy person because no good teacher would claim he was God. Unless He was. And secondly, and more impactful on me was (paraphrased), the more things you use to hold up your faith, the shakier it is. This astounded me. I thought the more the better, but learned that I simply needed one point of reference. One of the great explorers in Antarctica left base camp on a beautiful day and withing 20 minutes was caught in a horrific, blinding snowstorm. He simply placed his walking stick in the snow and walked spiraling circles outward from his stick, keeping his stick in sight at all times. He walked directly to his camp by doing so. He simply needed only one point of reference. This is the metaphor I use for my central and single tenet for faith.

Prior, I thought that my childhood faith was safe from the quakes of life. Instead, I found my house of faith crashed. I learned that each of the 32 questions I failed to answer to others’ satisfaction was a stilt that my house of faith lost. At the end of that year, my house of faith lay shattered. Fortunately, I found that it had shattered on the rock of what Jesus claimed.

I have re-formulated my faith based on one piece of information. If Jesus is God, I am a Christian; if not, I am not. All the rest of the original supports (tenets) became part of the superstructure of my faith built on the foundation that Jesus is God. What this means to me is that if I ever learn that any one of them is false, all I need to do is change the support of the walls of one of the rooms of my faith tenets. Whereas, before “divinity” school, the shattering of any one of these tenets, shook the very foundation of my whole belief system. During those years, I was a very disoriented man. Now, I find myself attempting to stay geared to the times around me, while anchored to the Rock. (Last concept borrowed from a youth organization I used to work in.)