I’m mentioned him several times—probably because he was
formative in my spiritual and religious development—but Dr. Kay Koidio, one of
my chemistry teachers in high school, once asked me a question to which I wish
I could give a different answer than the one I gave way back then. I was a
senior in high school. I had already taken one year-long class with Dr. Koidio
and was preparing to start another quarter-long class. He was a devout Muslim
known to the high school community for, among other things, a strict observance
of Ramadan and the five-times-daily prayers. One day, he stopped me in the
hallway and asked, “Why are you a Christian?” It caught me so off guard that I
replied, “Well, why are you a Muslim?” Without hesitation, he responded, “Because
I do not want to go to hell.” After only a brief pause to consider his
response, I said, “Me too, that’s why I’m a Christian—because I don’t want to
go to hell.” Within only a few minutes I realized that I wished I had said
something else.
I am not a Christian because I don’t want to go to hell. Although
hell seemed a pretty scary concept—one I would still prefer to avoid—even at 17-years-old
I had already figured that I wanted to be a Christian because I wanted to go to
heaven. That might seem like a meaningless distinction, but I assure you that
as one who made that transition from fear to faith it was an important
transition.
Now, though, I think I’d give an even different response.
Why am I a Christian? Because I want to have life—the life God has promised me—and
I want to have it now.
Today is the feast of John of Damascus. He was a very, very,
very smart Christian who lived during a time when Islam had begun to spread throughout
the near-east. Steadfast in his faith, he reportedly worked as the
right-hand-man for the caliph who ruled over Islamic Syria. And despite being
an integral part of a publicly Islamic caliphate, John of Damascus held firm to
his belief in the resurrection. He synthesized copious amounts of Christian theological
scholarship and produced important writings that still guide the church in its
beliefs. He was openly opposed to the iconoclast movement that made the
veneration and public display of icons illegal. When we celebrate his feast, we
use the proper preface for Easter, which underscores his commitment to the “Paschal
mystery.” Most notably to me today, we read John 5:24-27 as we remember him.
Jesus said, "Very truly, I
tell you, anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal
life, and does not come under judgment, but has passed from death to life.
(John 5:24)
For most of my life, I have heard those words of Jesus as a
test. If you believe, then you go to heaven. If not, you go to hell. At first
those were scary words, and I worried as a young child whether I would pass the
test when I died and go to heaven. Eventually, I relaxed a little bit and found
confidence that indeed I did apprehend the whole Jesus-thing and knew that,
when tested, I would pass. But now, I’m hearing those words of Jesus in a
totally different way.
Jesus didn’t say, “anyone who hears my word and understand
it has eternal life.” Instead he says believe. What does it mean to believe?
Belief is not the same thing as understanding, and John of Damascus knew that.
Jesus isn’t suggesting that only those who pass the understanding
test make it into heaven. He’s saying that those who believe have life. Imagine
being a Christian icon in a country dominated by Islam. We share a similar
story, and we both respect Jesus, but our belief about what happened to him
differs. In the Qur’an (4:157-58), Jesus is said to have been not actually crucified and killed as God instead raised him to himself as a substitute was killed
on the cross. For John of Damascus, there wasn’t really any way around it. That’s
a difference that we can’t gloss over. So how do you hold fast to Christianity in
a circumstance like that? How do you justify, explain, rationalize, and argue
for a belief that is explicitly contradictory to those with whom you are
discussing it?
Understanding is not the same thing as believing. And the
life that Jesus promises isn’t the some-day life in heaven but the life now.
That suggests to me that believing as Jesus invites us to manifests itself here
and now not as intellectual assent but as deep, soul-level commitment. This is
the “peace that passes all understanding” that “keep[s] [our] hearts and minds in
the knowledge and love of God and of his Son Jesus Christ.” We don’t talk about
that peace coming from our understanding but from the knowledge that passes all
understanding. And what kind of knowledge is that? That’s belief. That’s
life-changing, life-filling, life-restoring faith. John of Damascus had it. And
we’re invited to have it, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.