I grew up as a preacher’s kid, and luckily, despite the stories of how PKs turn out, I think I turned out half-decent, half-full. At least fully witted. Vested with a brain. And through my parents, I was encouraged and allowed to question the fabric of things. The threads that stitch and hold our nature. What a powerful teaching tool that was. Allowing questions. Not a one better in my mind. One I hope to impart to my daughter.

After my brother died, I really hated God. And I mean, I hated the guy. There would be sitting, driving, walking, and biking sessions, where I would just scream the f-bomb at him. I would threaten him, I would bargain with him, I would question the hell out of him. But silence is the only thing I ever got back. And that was pretty brutal. At least for a kid that was taught that God is faithful.

The doctrine; God it faithful. He loves you. He sent his son to die on the cross for you. So be baptized and you will be saved. Tithe, for it is commanded, and you will be rewarded. And finally, if you study your bible every day, you will understand God’s will.

And here is my problem. This type of teaching only works, until God is no longer perceived as faithful. And if there are two people, who have been consistent examples of faith, it would be my parents. As they represented and lived unconditional love on a daily basis for my entire life. And by all accounts, it looks like they were rewarded for their faith with a handful of pain. Robbing them of their boy, their heart.

This brings me to good ol’ C.S. Lewis. The dude wrote the book The Problem of Pain in 1940. You may also know him as the author of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Well The Problem of Pain is a very deep philosophical look at why pain exists, why it’s in our lives, and why God has to fundamentally allow it. The book is written from a Christian perspective and in my opinion is a very well thought out argument. But then it gets interesting.

Twenty years later, Lewis’ wife dies tragically from cancer. And he ends up publishing A Grief Observed under a sudo name. The book is basically four small journals written over the first six months after his wife’s death. And do you know what C.S. Lewis’ says in his book? Well, to paraphrase, he poetically ends up with a book that, for it’s day, ultimately asks “What the h*** God!?!” (my words, not his).

I am going to guess that after he lost his wife, he understood intimately the arrogance and naivety in which his previous book was written in (not necessarily that it was in any way false). His desires for all purposes sounded like life’s most basic. Love, food, shelter. But his creator won’t even allow him that. Because Lewis now knows how ultimate the betrayal is. How God looks to have dropped him like a hot rock. Who cares if the pain is “needed”, Lewis just wants his wife back!

I also have been listening to David Bazan‘s new album, Curse Your Branches. Which is slowly becoming one of my all time favorite albums. And David has been doing some questioning of his own. Out right losing his faith at one point. So the songs are filled with this topic and their truthfulness is apparent. The album is so honest and brutal, that it ends up being a very beautiful and worthy endeavor and I would like to think that David and I are asking similar questions. Seeing as he grew up attending church, it sounds like he struggles, like I do, with what church currently is. If and when he goes on Sunday.

When I attend church now, it is through a very different set of eyes and ears. A wholly different person is sitting there, in the seat. As the worship band plays, everyone raises their hands, praising the name of Jesus. The worship leader will call out “Can you feel him? Jesus is here today”. And consistently, all I see when I look around, is people with endorphins rushing to their brain and tears flowing out of their eyes. Nothing more. The ebb and flow of the music strategically climaxing in an amazing Jesus high. I’ve been a part of it. I’ve lived and even enjoyed it for a time. But not any more. The singing just ultimately rings false, for me at least. Then there is the guy or gal doing the preaching. I won’t lie, I am pretty cynical of what I hear. The message is wrapped in a new package, but fundamentally you still have to end up at a decision. Which takes faith. Right along with everything else.

To the believers who would ask “How dare you question God? Don’t you realize that by writing this you are allowing doubt to enter?”

My answer (or is it question) is this. People are going to lose their mom or their dad, their brother or their sister, their spouse or their child. Death is a fact that everyone will have to accept, at some point, as it tragically enters into their world. And if people are not questioning now. On if their God loves them. Or the validity of their faith and the foundation in which it rests. If you can’t be allowed to ask now, then when? Cause where will people be when life picks them up and hurls them from the cliff face on which they clung. Broken upon the rocks below, they will look up to heaven wondering “Why didn’t you catch me God?”.

To those who are hurting or questioning. I hope these words somehow let you know that you are not alone. People (like myself) have experienced loss and pain too, just as you are now going through it yourself. And it is ok to think and ask and question and rage. I can tell you that the pain of loss and death at least lessens over time. That it is not unbearable forever. That there is more love to be had, if you feel up to looking again some day.

In closing, you may be curious. “Jared, do your folks still believe in Jesus?” And I would have to say “Yup”. They are cautious, but they still are battling to be faithful. We as a family, are constantly reminded that there are things we will never have answers for. At least not here. And as for myself. I think that most days I can muster up the mustard seed to believe that maybe, a loving God does exist.

*A word of caution. If you are taking what is written, and using it internally as leverage. To justify selfishness. Then I would encourage you to stop. That road is pretty traveled, and Frost was right. You should go for the trail that is overgrown. Things of true value are hard to attain and take work. Which is the very reason the path to them is filled with pitfalls and pot-holes.