Hi all, again--Hopefully this will not become a series of Saturday night questions from me.

I have a question about normal and abnormal responses to doubt.

First, please excuse me for the following illustration from a horse of mine of what faith now looks like to me.
Horses are prey animals--they spook and shy when nervous. They're wired to run from possible threats first and ask questions later--when there's some distance between themselves and a potential predator.They will, however, overcome their flight response in the presence of a trusted leader.
A few years ago I bought an inexpensive horse from a neighbor because she was having too many problems with him. He bolted with a rider and he'd become a bolter even when led by a person on the ground. The owner's husband could just barely hang on to him, but both the previous owner and I are small people and I knew I couldn't re-train this horse by strength. But I could tell he had an excellent basic temperament so I thought I'd risk buying him.

At this point I need to say I have no pretensions of "taming" horses. I did used to think I could control a horse by my kindness and calmness. But after several experiments in stupidity on my part, I do know now they just trust me because of their own God-given good nature.

Getting back to my story about Indigo...I'm glad I bought him. He did initially take off a good number of times while I was leading him. Whenever something scared him he just bolted. After a couple of months, though, he turned into a different animal. Whereas before he panicked and fled when scared, he started doing exactly the opposite: he'd stop himself and look at me when he began to lose his cool.
And he's remained that way--he stops himself and checks in with me when troubled. He's actually become a very sensitive horse suitable for moderately experienced kids because he has such a good personality.
I was touched and humbled when I saw this horse begin to make an effort not to bolt. I have a very clear picture in my mind of one of the first times something could have scared him but he chose to stop himself and look at me. It was so striking that I've remembered it well. So he's become an embodiment to me of what faith might look like: I can be scared and less than a step away from panic, but at least I can stop and look at God rather than taking off when something shakes my beliefs.

Sigh...I suspect the power of this image of faith is one of those "you had to be there" things. It's meaningful to me at any rate. It's an easily recalled picture that I can remember before I panic completely...I just have to stop and look at God; I don't need to understand Him or stifle my emotions. I don't necessarily need to move closer to Him; if some aspect of Him has scared me, I can keep my distance and look at Him from that less threatening place. But I do need to keep my attention engaged on Him--if I run away, He can't clear up my confusion till I stop running and turn around.

The point of this post isn't a story about Indigo, now renamed Abide. I actually have a question of importance to me, but I have to go hay the above-mentioned beast, so I'll post this for now.

Edit: I'm sleepy...I'll ask the question tomorrow.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Ariel Jaffe,

I have one more background story before I ask my question.

I became a Christian when I was fifteen, though I'd grown up having to go to church. My family attended both mainline and evangelical Protestant churches. I did absorb a good deal of basic Christian teaching, but I wasn't initially drawn to Christianity.

We lived in the country, in a very pretty area, and though I read alot I spent much of my time outdoors. Christianity was associated in my mind with an uninspiring modern building and aesthetically unappealing flannelgraph figures, a Jesus with light brown brushed back hair and a dull light blue robe. In contrast, the woods, hills and mountains were beautiful and vibrant. I did read The Chronicles of Narnia and the richness of that world combined with the hint that Jesus and that kind of saturated, vibrant color were compatible, began to work on me.

Finally, one day when I was fifteen I was playing "Morning Has Broken" on the guitar and I stopped and read the words. "Sweet the rain's newfall sunlit from heaven / Like the first dewfall on the first grass / Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden / Sprung in completeness where His feet pass." By some sort of intense, graced imagination, I saw just His feet walking on the grass; but He was more beautiful than anything else I'd ever seen, and the grass welcomed the touch of His feet...creation was completed in Him, not at odds with Him. So I wanted to know Him, too.

I already had orthodox Christian doctrine in place--I simply had not wanted to believe it before because I'd set nature/God against each other. I did come quickly to see the even greater non-physical beauty in Christ, and valued that even more than His role in creation.

My point in telling the above story is that I'm a Christian not because I fear hell or think primarily of my moral obligation to obey the Creator. (Though I do know now that He deserves my obedience.) I'm a Christian because because I think Christ is beautiful. Everything else pales in comparison.

Well, now that I myself am wondering where I'm going with this, I'm going to post it and try to gather my thoughts into my question.

[QUOTE]Originally posted by Ariel Jaffe:
]Sigh...I suspect the power of this image of faith is one of those "you had to be there" things. It's meaningful to me at any rate. It's an easily recalled picture that I can remember before I panic completely...I just have to stop and look at God; I don't need to understand Him or stifle my emotions. I don't necessarily need to move closer to Him; if some aspect of Him has scared me, I can keep my distance and look at Him from that less threatening place. But I do need to keep my attention engaged on Him--if I run away, He can't clear up my confusion till I stop running and turn around.

Hi A.J.

It's beautiful, the picture you paint with your words. Though I wasn't there, your description took me there in my minds eye. Such a metaphor for staying centered on Christ in the midst of whatever is being brought up from within. Gail

Thanks, Gail--I feel more encouraged to try to talk about what's bothering me--which I will eventually get to.

I guess the main idea behind my second post is that I very, very much want to believe the story at the heart of Christianity, and the goodness of the God behind the story. Nothing else rivals His beauty. I love being comfortable and if I were to make my own religion it would have none of the paradoxical character of Christianity--"Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."---co-existing with the truth of Bonhoeffer's words: "When Jesus calls a man He bids him come and die." But my religion would have none of the beauty, or sweet yet hard ring of truth, of Christianity. I have so very much invested in believing Christ can be trusted...and that scares me.

During the 2+ decades that I've been a Christian, however, I've taken some excursions. One was when I went to art school in Philadelphia--I was more interested in fitting into the art community than in staying near God.
Two other rough periods, though, had to do with having my faith shaken.

The first had to do with what most of us face at some time or other and to various degrees: why is there so much physical and emotional pain in all of creation if God loves us? I had guidance with that question, and came out of that period more or less in one piece. But it was hard.

The second period lasted much longer, it was extremely lonely because everyone I tried to talk to about it got scared, and I quite honestly did not expect to fully recover from it and return to a living faith in Christ.
I said elsewhere that my dad didn't tell us he was Jewish till I was an adult. Curious person that I am, I started reading a great deal about Judaism, but confident and content in my Christian faith. To make a long story somewhat shorter, after about two years of this and one specific rabbi later, I was pretty lost.

For one thing, I read too much at once, from both Christian and Jewish accounts, about the Church's treatment of Jews. I ended up unable to walk into a church. But, one glorious thing that ended up as a strong reason why I remained a Christian was the fact that taken as individuals, my longtime Christian friends are the most genuine people I know, by far.

Moreso than the history of Christian/Jewish conflict, I was shaken by some rabbis' interpretation of the Old Testament and their reasons for not believing in Jesus. To be accurate, I found the great majority of my reading in Judaism to be helpful; it threw light on my Christian beliefs as well as made me believe Judaism has long held some lovers of Jesus who can't quite see Him, though, through the window of Church history. But there was one rabbi in particular who really threw me. So I spent many painful months in seminaries reading translations of old Jewish writings and explanations of the fuller meaning of Hebrew words with an often sinking heart.

I know some might say that as a Christian I should just know Jesus is the messiah, and if in my heart I loved Christ I shouldn't need to check out His validity, so it's my own fault for putting myself through a very painful time. But I needed to know the truth more than I needed to be comfortable. So there I was reading and reading.

I remained a Christian, but I was a very shaky one for several years. During that period I tried killing time with an atheist boyfriend, because I thought for once maybe God doesn't really want us to seek Him too much. You know, like Ecclesiastes seems to promote at times: "Don't worry your head about it; just enjoy a normal human life on the earth." That's not me, though, so I kept wanting to find my way back to a real faith.

I'm going to post this now and try again to distill my thoughts so I can express my question. Sorry about this!

AJ:

Are you past the time of reading historical/biblical commentaries on Jesus, or still searching? I understand at a certain point this sort of reflection comes to an end, but then shows up as an interest later as devotion grows. I have spent much time in past years with that kind of reading, and can make suggestions if you are still drawn to such things, as can Phil and others.

w.c.--Yes, I'm interested in your suggestions. Thanks.

Okay, after all that, I think I'm ready to ask my question.

I still at times panic like a flight animal-- like a horse-- when something rattles my faith. With honest appreciation for the way God has used my horse Abide to give me an easily remembered picture of what to do when I get scared, I've handled recent doubts without running away. In fact when I stayed facing God though I was scared and puzzled by Him, He was indeed able to guide me through my confusion pretty quickly.

Additionally from my horse I remember how delighted I was when he gave me the costly gift of his trust. I can feel, now, a little of how God might be so thrilled with the smallest bit of faith from us.

But to get back to the fact that the period of panic, however brief, exists in me at times as an initial response to doubt: Is that something almost everyone does? Or is an indicator of something...a problem or something good?

Do I panic because, when I see suffering, I truly doubt God is just or deeply involved with us? Then the panic is in reality brief moments when I'm letting the truth raise its meaningless head. I've been around the block with this idea since I was a teenager, and I, in full, true honesty, don't believe it it's got a leg to stand on--God has run all the legs off that dragon. I'm less of a skeptic than I fear I am. And I really couldn't be an atheist--nor an agnostic at this point--even if I tried.

Do I experience panic because of past traumatic experiences? That seems more likely. My periods of faith crises were very painful--the most pain I've ever felt, in fact. I wonder, these past few years as my faith has healed, if I'm simply longing for a time of smooth sailing, yet a bit jumpy at the thought of being ambushed by serious doubt.
Along the lines of the above, speaking of being ambushed, I've wondered if I'm mis-applying some bad human experience. When we were kids, my older brother was really hard on me. I'd be going along minding my own business ( I swear ) when he'd come up behind me and slam me to the ground. I ended up pretty jumpy as well as fast. But looking back I mostly just think that's funny. He did eventually tell my parents that he felt I was way too much my dad's favorite and he was trying to even things out by pouncing on me. So I kind of doubt that has much to do with the panic I've been talking about.

Finally, I wonder more and more if the brief panic isn't partly about how valuable Christ is to me. I've known this before but realize it at deeper and deeper levels as time passes: There is no-one like Him. No other god compares in beauty. I so much--not just want, but now need Him to be the truth that it scares me. I'm wondering then, if the brief jumpiness I've felt at a few places this past year isn't an uncomfortable indicator of something good.

Okay , I'm finished! I'm open to any help or sharing of similar experiences.

And w.c.--reading suggestions are most welcome.

AJ:

The first book that comes to mind is "Jesus Outside the New Testament: An Introduction to the Ancient Evidence," by Robert E. Van Voorst. The author examines both classical and Jewish writings, as well as the canonical gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) and Christian writings after the New Testament. It is a rather slender volumn compared to most of its kind, about 215 pages, and well written for the layperson.

There are others more exhaustive, although Van Voorst's footnotes are good. John Meier's volumnous treatise on all historical matters pertaining to the life of Jesus would be the supreme undertaking. His work is endorsed by Rabbi Burton L. Visotzky, Jewish Theological Seminary of America. And you may find shorter works written by the late Raymond E. Brown, who was Meier's predeccesor among contemporary Catholic scripture scholars. An Amazon search may reveal some of these.

I can relate to how intellectual urgency may mask earlier childhood trauma, as is the case with me. We may harbor unresolved attachment needs when opening to Jesus, and on intellectual issues this can appear as unresolvable regardless of how much reading we do.

Does your panic kind of feed back on itself? I mean, if you briefly panic, but then you don't understand what it's about, does that in turn makes you panic further?

w.c.--I'll get Van Voorst's book--thanks.

Yes, you're right, it's not just an intellectual issue with me.
I cannot watch any sort of horror movie; my imagination is too graphic. I remember clearly some scary tv show that I saw while very young: some people in a town were turning into monsters; the protagonist in the show walked up behind a familiar person, looking for help. When that trusted person turned around to the hopeful, desperate protagonist, he was one of the monsters, too.
I had horrible nightmares after seeing that. My panic feels similar to what the tv character must have felt. I trustingly seek God, follow Him, feel I know something of His heart; but then I'm reminded of some puzzling aspect of Him. (Usually the only thing that still cuts me sharply is a reminder of suffering by innocent people, or even animals.) He suddenly can appear frightening to me. I panic; it's like my blood runs cold. Now, rather than running off I'm facing His apparent scary aspect with eyes wide open--but at a distance that feels safe--and asking Him to show me His true face. And the last few times I had one of these episodes, Him did deal with me gently and show me reasons to trust Him. He didn't leave me hanging. I feel like He's saying, kindly, "You do know Me. Remember what you know." Beside the many outside reasons I have to trust Him, I have experienced, years ago and intermittantly since, what I think you refer to as infused contemplation. I do have many reasons to trust Him.

Having said that, I have to agree with what I think you're saying--this panic issue is not due to the way God Himself has handled me.

I doubt I was ever abused. I was born a month early, but I don't see that being connected to this. My imagination is so vivid, though, that, silly as it sounds, I wonder if that scary tv show left a mark on me itself.

I'm doing well now; I wanted to talk about this before I get into a puzzling, frightening place again.

And yes, I do intellectually understand that suffering has a good role to play--it just hits me so hard viscerally that it's not easy to stay cool about.

Derek: Yes and no--lately I know exactly what set me off.

I did have a real live panic attack a number of years ago, and for awhile it fed on itself. Again, someone I trusted scared the heck out of me, not unlike what I described above. I hate admitting this, because when other friends earlier told me they had anxiety attacks, I thought they were high-strung and a bit silly. Officially, I consider myself to be very calm, level-headed and easy-going, so it's been hard for me to face the reality that I have a deeply rooted nervousness.

Do you want to say more?

To forum readers in general:

I'm sorry if it sounded like I think having an anxiety attack is "high-strung and silly." I don't, and I didn't really ever---I was just congratulating myself for having turned into a (apparently) stable, calm adult from the very sensitive kid that I was; comparing myself with 2 old friends who were more out-going than I when we were growing up.

I'm sorry to anyone struggling with anxiety--I didn't mean to sound dismissive or scornful.

A.J.

I tried to nail down (for years) the root cause of why I had panic, to no avail. There didn't seem to be one defining moment (in a plethora of events) that I could point to and say, ah, that's it.

However, I wouldn't trade the search for anything, because knowing my story and the source of my woundedness, has enabled me to allow Christ to offer grace to all the tender little dears inside. The maddening reality is, I never seems to be finished. I guess we all are a work in progress in process. I have learned self soothing techniques to calm when it strikes. As you said the fear feeds on itself, and knowing how to breath and do self talk sometimes helps.

Last Oct. my husband had three major surgeries in New York City, the risks were serious. We were far from home, and I was basically by myself for 8 weeks, because he was mostly out of it. I hadn't had an anxiety episode for years, and low and behold they arrived in my sleep, jarring, startling... I mention this because I thought I was this integrated, well down the path, enlightened being...it felt like I was thrown back to square one. I'm telling on my foolishness here, because in the daylight hours, I got mad, anger being one of my forms of self protection, and I had words with my Lord. Silly, puny me boxing at God...seems I have reacted towards Him with doubt and shout and pout as a form of prayer for years...Anyway, the next day while I am sitting in surgery lounge (My husband is having a third emergency exploratory surgery.) This lovely woman engages me in conversation. Turns out, she was a sister (Nun). O, the kindness of our Lord to grace my heart with this woman of deep faith and prayer.

My hope in sharing this is that as you continue to grow in the grace and knowledge of Christ that He will give you what you have need of in His way and His time...Perhaps you will enjoy these quotes by C.S. Lewis.

Love, Gail


"Some people feel guilty about their anxieties and regard them as a defect of faith but they are afflictions, not sins. Like all afflictions, they are, if we can so take them, our share in the passion of Christ."



"'Safe?' said Mr. Beaver...'Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. but he's good. He's the King, I tell you.'"



"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.'

Gail: Thank you so much for telling more about yourself. It does help me. The first quote from C.S. Lewis is especially helpful, too.

As you put it, I felt I was "well down the path" and it surprises me to see how much fear I still have.It's not a fear of death, but-- in line with the second Lewis quote, "Course he isn't safe. But he's good"-- I still question His trustworthiness. I have some hope that a part of this wariness is due to me realizing at some point I have to make a deeper commitment. There's nowhere else to reasonably go but towards Him.

Last year I was talking to a friend about someone I knew, and I said that person reminded me of "The Boxer" in the Simon and Garfunkle song:

In a clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries a reminder
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
...But the fighter still remains

I thought, as I talked to my friend, "That's not me. That's like 'X'."

It's humbling to now see that is like me, carrying reminders of things that I thought were far behind me. I know for myself that I thought I was supposed to just let go of any past pain without listening to it. I've been given a pretty good life so far, so I thought I wasn't ever supposed to feel sad about any parts that weren't as good.

But that model of shallow gratitude doesn't seem to work. As I think I understand w.c. to be saying in part, we carry all those reminders of lessons learned in how to protect ourselves, then-at least in me-I misinterpret the meaning of those lessons and misapply them to how God might be. So I'm more leery of God than is warranted.

(w.c.--I'm sorry if I'm mistakening your meaning.)

I did have a bout of panic attacks about a dozen years ago, which is where I experienced the feedback effect. One doctor I saw believed it was all in the mind, and that I should be able to talk myself out of it. Fortunately, the second doctor I saw happened to have experienced a panic attack for himself and knew that this idea of talking yourself out of it was nonsense.

Derek: Did you ever figure the cause of them?

My personal belief -- a kind of working hypothesis, if you will -- is that they were caused by feelings of panic during birth, and that these feelings reemerged because I was in an anxiety-provoking situation in my life at that time. However, that's only a working hypothesis. I don't have enough evidence to call it a definite conclusion, nor would I assume that what applies to me would necessarily apply to you. I think everyone has to do their own digging around.

quote:

Originally posted by Derek:
I did have a bout of panic attacks about a dozen years ago, which is where I experienced the feedback effect. One doctor I saw believed it was all in the mind, and that I should be able to talk myself out of it. Fortunately, the second doctor I saw happened to have experienced a panic attack for himself and knew that this idea of talking yourself out of it was nonsense.

Derek,

How right you are on not being to talk yourself out of a panic attack...The first time I had one I thought I was going to die. Went to emergency room only to be diagnosed as a panic attack. Later down the road, I was diagnosed with post traumatic stress syndrome. The fear of not understanding what was happening to me in my first panic attack just about drove me crazy. So, when this happened again in New York, I knew that I wasn't going to die, or that I wasn't going crazy, by telling myself that, and doing breathing exercises I was able to ride it out. No way do I want to come across here as giving a formula... Does that make sense to you? Gail

quote:

Originally posted by gail:
No way do I want to come across here as giving a formula... Does that make sense to you? Gail

Absolutely. I certainly don't have a formula for anyone else!

[QUOTE]Originally posted by Ariel Jaffe:

But that model of shallow gratitude doesn't seem to work.

A.J.

"Shallow gratitude" didn't work for me.

I liked what Derek said about each of us having to do our own digging around... Gail

Yes, any obligatory-like motive involving gratitude is likely to be shame talking. I find it strange (but am not a parent, so . . . ) that many parents prod their children to express thanks, when children are generally naturally grateful without saying so. So much is lost with the proper words when the child's unspoken intention isn't seen.

However, I do believe gratitude to be a faculty of the soul which allows the heart to open in such a way that receiving is giving. When we are genuinely grateful, and sensing that as true in our bodies, we validate the giver automatically, and without trying to control - and much "giving" can often have this element of control in it.

Perhaps a more neutral word is appreciation; it isn't as loaded with the old-time, shame-based moralism. And I'm not dismissing the aspect of remorse where we know we should have done something differently, for how we've hurt others. But neither is this sense of compunction bound by toxic-shame if it is real and coming from the heart.

There are some great exchanges on this thread, and some good writing, too.

Ariel, it seems you've gotten some good feedback about panic attacks, but I'm wondering if we've addressed your sense of a connection with faith and trust? That seemed to be the point about your horse (great example!). You also note:

quote:

Finally, I wonder more and more if the brief panic isn't partly about how valuable Christ is to me. I've known this before but realize it at deeper and deeper levels as time passes: There is no-one like Him. No other god compares in beauty. I so much--not just want, but now need Him to be the truth that it scares me. I'm wondering then, if the brief jumpiness I've felt at a few places this past year isn't an uncomfortable indicator of something good.

Could you say more about this need for Christ to be the truth? You've mentioned your intense search in Judaism, so I take it that the intellectual aspect of religion is important to you. What would it take for you to believe that Christ is the truth? And truth in what sense? That he really lived, died, rose, worked miracles, etc. . . that what the Bible says about him is true?

Maybe my book on the resurrection would be of help to you (and perhaps others). I sell it as a pdf eBook on my website, but here's the link. Help yourself (same goes for anyone else who's reading the thread; do not send this link to others, please).
- http://homepage.mac.com/philothea/download/risen.pdf

Hi Phil ---I'm still reading; it's very good.

I'm glad you brought this up. I'd like it if we could talk more sometime after I'm finished with the book?

Dear Phil: Thanks for the reference to the book. It was beneficial reading.

I'm in a reading/gathering perspectives mode at present, rather than a talking/actively questioning one. But I do want to hear the ideas of you and others here on things I'm still struggling with, and for that to happen I'll have to write at some later point, I know.

Meanwhile, I want to say I greatly appreciated the place in your resurrection book--towards the beginning--where you said, as a scientist, you were "prepared to believe the truth even if it was unpleasant."

When, as a committed, partly seasoned Christian, I still felt I needed to examine the claims of the specific rabbi I spoke of earlier, I wish I had been able to find a study partner. This period began about 12 years ago; my good pastor had just moved to New Jersey, a skilled and honorable Old Testament scholar that he knew had just left for some years in Israel, and very few Christian ministers had addressed this rabbi's points at that time.

So I felt very much on my own with this. And though I had my own areas of knowledge in art, gardening, and horses, when it comes to in-depth Bibical scholarship I have to ultimately trust that experts are handling it with integrity.

A well-meaning friend at the time--twelve years ago--knowing I liked Dostoevsky, gave me this quote from a letter Dostoevsky wrote:

"If anyone could prove to me that Christ is outside the truth, and if the truth really did exclude Christ, I should prefer to stay with Christ and not with the truth."

As much as I thought I understood and shared Dostoevsky's sentiment there, I knew I couldn't live like that. I was willing to believe the Creator was good and that knowing His reality would be ultimately better than hanging on to my strong preferences. If I had clung to a preference for Jesus though I knew it to be outside the truth, it seemed to me that Christ would eventually degenerate into some sort of a cardboard cut-out figure, not the living, confounding, untameable Truth.

As it turned out, I never resolved all of my questions about this rabbi's claims concerning Jesus' validity--just enough was eventually learned to allow me to come back to acknowledging that nothing ever proved to me He was "outside the truth." That, combined with my many reasons for believing He was the truth, kept me longing for a time when, if possible, I could come back to a settled, experienced trust in Him.

The beginning of that return was 9 years ago. I was listening to "This American Life" on NPR (I'm not politically liberal ) when I heard a Jewish Christian guy say that God knew he needed to know the truth. At that point I realized I needed to trust God's ability to find me, and believe He had found me already--because one of the few perfectly true things I know about myself is I'm willing to hear the truth above my fondness for comfort.

So, Phil, paisano, I do believe Jesus is the truth.

These past 9 years I'm simply having to deal with the consequences of what I did when I was lacking the hope that the truth could be known.

Hmmm...I thought I wasn't talking right now.

Phil, I have to go outside, but I will be sending you a PM later.

Greetings, Ariel. I agree with you that truth and what we believe about Christ ought not be in conflict. The branch of theology called "apologetics" attempts to show how the two are not in conflict, as I'm guessing you're aware. Religious faith, however, opens us to truth beyond which science and philosophy can "prove" with any finality. That's why it's faith and not knowledge, although there's a certain knowledge that comes through faith that cannot be known otherwise.

It sounds like that rabbi you've mentioned a couple of times had quite an influence on you. I can't imagine what he thought he knew about Jesus that would somehow "disprove" what the Church affirms about Him, given that pretty much all we know about Jesus comes from the Church.

w.c. has recommended some good resources, and I'll add, now, Jim Arraj's wonderful book, "Can Christians Still Believe?" which is available free of charge online (you can purchase the paperback if interested). There is a chapter on the Jesus of History and the Jesus of Faith that might be of interest to you.
- see http://www.innerexplorations.c...heomortext/chmys.htm