Rejecting Experience

There is a certain amount of mistrust towards experience from some of my fellow students at Seminary. Not all students, but some. There are professors as well who seem to get weak in the knees when any conversation about personal experience comes up in class. Even though I can appreciate not letting class time devolve into personal testimony at the expense of other critical learning, I'm confused by the apparent mistrust of experience which I find so central to my faith. The following is my understanding of how experience and faith interact. 

From time to time the religious have an experience in which they are brought to the limit of themselves and confronted with that which is ultimate and beyond. Those who have confronted the “Wholly Other” use words like
Tremendum, Fear, Awe-some, Awe-ful to describe the experience. In that moment, they experience two distinct but related realities, separation and dependence. The feeling of separation comes from experiencing the limits of ourselves in comparison to the “Other,” but separation alone is not enough to illicit feelings of Tremendum, the encounter also produces a recognition that one’s existence is dependent on this “Wholly Other.” That recognition stops us short.
I know what it means to Fear God. Within 24 hours of my son’s birth he started having seizures and was rushed to the NICU. Doctors had determined that the seizures were caused by bleeding and swelling in his brain caused by an in-utero stroke. It took days to get the seizures under control, weeks for the swelling to come down, and months before we could see him start to develop normally. It took me nearly 2 years to start praying again.

Every time I tried to pray, I became acutely aware of my own mortality, my son’s mortality, and our utter dependence on God for life, livelihood, relationships, future, hope, joy, and even sorrow. Every time I tried to pray, I experienced the Tremendum and it was utterly overwhelming. The experience has been imprinted on my heart. To this day, I’m able to experience that Fear just by remembering.

Reflecting on this time in my life, I realize how close I was to God. I felt far away, but the separation was necessary in order to arrive at a deeper feeling of dependence. I can now understand the real meaning behind Romans 8:26, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know how to pray as we ought, but ‘the Spirit intercedes for us with groaning too deep for words.”

Knowledge of oneself in this context, means recognizing that we are separate and utterly dependent. Knowledge is the basis for faith in God and it’s the basis for the sacraments. Separate beings value connectedness. Limited creation is compelled towards knowledge of the Ultimate. In this state of being, communion is a gift. It is the invitation to connect; in the Eucharist we connect with Creator-Christ, at the table we connect as the Body of Christ, and through the physical nourishment we connect with the creation which Christ brings forth. In our state of separation and dependence, baptism is a gift. Separate beings value the invitation to join the Body of Christ. They are compelled to claim that Jesus is Lord and Savior.

For Christians, the fundamental religious experience is that of deepened dependence. The experience of separation necessitates that dependence. But, the experience is individual. Although, I would argue that the starting point really is a relationship with God, that’s not often how it feels to the individual involved in the moment. To shut ourselves off from the language of experience out of fear that the believer may be viewed as the starting point, is to deny one of the fundamental ways in which God relates to us.

Christians are unique in how we address separation. We claim a Genesis as well as a Means to wholeness. We experience pain, deep conflict, profound disconnectedness, abuse, grief, sorrow, anger, but we have a promise that the future is ultimately not dependent on us alone. This is the reality to which I cling.  

So, I explore connections (of all kinds) relying on them as gifts of a gracious Creator. I make connections through science. I love reading studies on brain science. I believe in evolution and that doesn’t undermine my belief in a Creator God. I get together with neighbors. I vote. I lobby for the vulnerable and attempt to change systems which contribute to their vulnerability. I have worshiped in a Mosque, a Synagogue, a Buddhist temple, and I’ve participated in a baptism at a Shinto shrine. 

I get up every morning and commit my day to worshiping God and then go about fouling that up in every way imaginable, but I have never once considered these encounters with other people in their houses of worship to be a sin. Accepting that other people have meaningful experiences apart from mine or apart from Christianity does not detract from my own and it doesn’t undermine the Truth. God doesn’t need my protection. Christ doesn’t need my protection. He is my Lord and Savior and not the other way around. I know what I know and that makes it possible for me to engage others where they are at.

I expect that Christ is at work in the interactions I have with people outside of Christianity. I’m not sure how and I may never know, but I trust. I Trust in the One with Whom I’ve had such profound encounters. The One Who gifted me nearly 20 years ago with kind, thoughtful, open, intelligent Christians who were willing to engage an outsider on her own terms.

All praise and honor be given to God the Creator, Son, and Holy Ghost.