When people ask me about my faith journey, I talk to them about my upbringing, growing up in the church, the son of a pastor. I talk about trusting Jesus at an early age, being baptized, and doing the things that I thought that I was supposed to do as I grew older, physically and spiritually.
But the story doesn’t end there. That early faith journey was not clear and simple, it was actually full of confusion as well as I tried to understand just what it meant to live out my faith and to hold on to something that seemed to have been inherited from my parents.
As I grew older, I realized how much that I had been relying on what had been handed down to me rather than allowing the seeds that had been planted to take root in me. I realized that a true and genuine faith is authentic, real, and personal, it can’t be simply duplicated by copying what someone else does but it needs to be something that shapes and forms you, changing and transforming you to be who God has called you to be.
While my prodigal journey away from the church was not long-lived or extreme, it was there. I came to the stark realization in college that my faith seemed to be a sham, simply a carbon copy of what I had received.
My journey away ended after about a year when I began to see my faith as my own rather than that of my parents.
Faith is much more than religion, it’s much more than rules and regulations. If it is to be genuine and personal, it needs to be experienced firsthand. Secondhand faith is no good, it is not genuine.
As I was reading in my daily Bible reading the other day, I came upon the end of Judges 8. If you aren’t familiar with the book of Judges, it’s one of the books in the Bible that would ensure any movie made from the Bible would receive at least a PG-13 rating, if not an R rating. It’s encouraging, frustrating, violent, and gracious, all at the same time.
At the end of Judges 8, Gideon has died. This same Gideon is the one who had led the Israelites to victory and then was ensnared by pride and the love of the people to create an idol that the people eventually worshipped.
Gideon dies and this is how the passage reads:
33 No sooner had Gideon died than the Israelites again prostituted themselves to the Baals. They set up Baal-Berith as their god 34 and did not remember the Lord their God, who had rescued them from the hands of all their enemies on every side. 35 They also failed to show any loyalty to the family of Jerub-Baal (that is, Gideon) in spite of all the good things he had done for them.
As I read these verses, my heart sank.
If I’m completely honest, one of the biggest fears that I have is that my children’s journey of faith will cease or diverge from my own. I fear that I will fail in my example of what true faith is for them. I fear that they might reject the very thing that has been such a pillar and cornerstone of my life.
These verses are heartbreaking to me because the faith of the Israelites was based solely on who was leading them rather than on what was actually going on in their own hearts. They had sacrificed the real thing for secondhand faith.
I don’t ever want my children to believe simply to make me happy. I don’t want to feel that their faith is just a carbon copy of what I have handed them, a cheap substitute for the real thing. I want it to be real and authentic.
Part of my faith needs to be that God will hold my children in his hand, that he will grow the seeds of faith that have been planted in them. I can only pray that my wife and I can fan the flame of faith that has been started in them, to pray that their faith will be firsthand faith.
No one ever said that it was easy, if it was, wouldn’t everyone have faith?
I am grateful that it all doesn’t lie in my hands, but at the same time, this is why I pray the words of the father of the possessed boy in Mark 9 who said, “I believe, help my unbelief.” I am grateful for the grace of God who meets me where I am, increasing my faith daily, but walking beside me and putting up with my unbelief.