Faith Is not Instruction but Experience
January 18, 2009
Fr. George Smiga
John 1:35-42
When we think of faith, we usually think of words. “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, the creator of heaven and earth.” Or, “Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with you.” Or, “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.” I suppose we associate faith with words because we associate faith with instruction, learning the catechism, preparing for first communion. But faith is not primarily a matter of words, it is a matter of experience. And we do not find God through instruction, we find God in the patterns of our lives.
The Jesuit theologian, John Powell, tells of a student that he had in the first course in Theology that he ever taught. The student’s name was Tommy and the time was the 1960’s. Tommy was a rebel with an attitude. He had hair down to his shoulders and he was the ‘resident atheist’ in the class, the one who kept objecting and criticizing and ridiculing all that Fr. Powell was trying to teach about a loving God. Despite this antagonism they made it through the semester. When Tommy came up with his final exam and turned it in he said in a cynical tone, “Fr. Powell, do you think that I will ever find God?” “No,” said Fr. Powell. “I don’t think that you will ever find God. But I am certain that God will find you.”
Years passed, and one day John Powell was told by a colleague that Tommy had contracted cancer and was terminal. Immediately Powell wanted to connect again with the boy. But before he could do that, Tommy showed up one day in his classroom. He was drastically changed; his body was wasted, his hair was gone because of chemotherapy; but his eye was still bright, and his voice was firm. “Tommy,” Fr. Powell said, “I’ve thought of you often. I hear that you’re very sick.”
“Yes Father,” he said, “really sick. It’s a matter of weeks.” “I’m so sorry,” said the priest.
“Ah Father, it could be worse,” he said. “I could be in my fifties without any purpose or ideal and without faith.”
“Faith?” said the priest. “Yes Father, faith. That’s why I’m here. Remember you told me how God was going to find me. I came to tell you that it was true. When you said that to me, I just brushed it off. I didn’t think much more about it. But when they removed the tumor from my groin and told me it was malignant and had spread to my vital organs, I began to search for God. I read the bible, I prayed, I talked to a lot of people. But despite my efforts, I could not find God. I pounded against the bronze doors of heaven, but God would not come out. And after months of trying, I gave up. I decided – what’s the use. I didn’t care about God or the after life. But then I remembered something you said in class. You said: ‘The saddest thing in life is to have never loved. But the second saddest thing is to have loved and never told anyone about it.’
That made sense to me and I decided I was going to spend the rest of the time I had talking to the people I love. And I began with my most difficult relationship, my Father. I always admired him, but we could never talk or communicate. So I pulled together my courage and one evening came into the room as he was reading the evening newspaper. ‘Dad,’ I said. ‘Yeh.’ he said, still reading the newspaper. ‘Dad, I need to talk to you.’ ‘Okay,’ he said, still having his face buried in the pages. ‘Dad, this is really important, I need your attention.’ and the paper came down a few inches. ‘I don’t have much time left, and I just want you to know, I love you.’ The paper fell to the floor and my Dad did two things I never saw him do before, he cried, and he hugged me. Then we talked all night.
The other relationships in my life were easier, telling my mother, and my sister, and my friends. And I spent a good deal of time contacting all the people I cared about and telling them what they meant to me. But then one day Father, and this is why I’m here, I turned around and God was there. God didn’t come when I asked, but God came. When I couldn’t find God, God found me.”
John Powell took a deep breath. “Tommy” he said, “that’s one of the most beautiful descriptions of faith I’ve ever heard. Do you think there’s any way that you might come into my Theology class this year and tell your story?” “Of course, Father,” he said. “I’d be happy to.” The two of them set a date for Tommy to come in. The date came, but Tommy never made it.
Faith is not primarily a matter of words. Faith is allowing God to touch us in the experiences of our lives. When the disciples come to Jesus in today’s gospel and ask for information, “Teacher, where are you staying?” Jesus does not answer them. He says, “Come and see.” He says, “You have to experience it.”
Jesus knows that words can point to faith, but words are not faith. You can’t find God in a catechism. You can only find God in the experiences of your lives. And you can find God in any experience. You can find God in the joyful experiences, in the love of a spouse, in success at work, in closeness with your friends. And you can find God in pain. You can find God working through problems in your marriage. You can find God worrying about your finances. You can find God like Tommy in sickness or even approaching death.
This is why we must be like the disciples. We must be willing to come and see: to look for God in both the joys and the sorrows of our lives. And if we examine our lives and our experiences, and God seems to be absent. If we look for God, but can’t find God. It doesn’t mean that we’ve made a mistake or that we’ve looked in the wrong place. It is then that we as disciples know that we must be patient. When we are unable to find God, it is then that we believe that God will find us.
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