During the past six months, I have had the blessing and privilege of helping out with the youth work at my church. I’m not going to lie to you; it’s challenging. Sometimes I feel as though I am completely out of my depth, but I still feel this is part of God’s calling for this season of my life.
The youth workers meet together every few weeks to discuss our next topics and make an action plan regarding who will teach what, and when, and how. So imagine my incredulity when, at one of these meetings, our pastor announced that he wanted someone to teach on the subject of blind faith. I laughed, and then I said of course it had to be me. I mean, blind faith just has to be taught by a blind person!
As I came home and began praying over this huge subject, my mind went back to my childhood, and to my least favourite activity at school. When a blind person is learning to find different places using a white cane, they call this mobility. For me, mobility was scary, mainly because I didn’t like going anywhere on my own.
I was about seven years old when I had my first mobility lesson. I can still remember walking up to Mr cooper’s office and knocking gingerly on the door. He was a rather loud boisterous character, and I think I was a little bit intimidated by him. his main goal in life was to instil confidence into his students, and he did this by teaching us to leave the school grounds and travel around town independently with our canes.
It wasn’t so bad in the beginning. I soon learned my way to the local shop, and to somewhere else that was a little further away. But then Mr cooper said it was time for the big one. I was going to learn to walk all the way into town. However, in order to do this, I would have to cross a set of five pedestrian road crossings that would take me across some of the busiest main roads. He assured me I would be fine because he would teach me how to navigate them one by one. Soon I would be able to walk into town, do my shopping, and return to the school unaided.
The crossings were a minefield for my little ten-year-old brain. It felt as though I had to go left, then right, then straight on, then, … It was all so confusing. But slowly, I got it. I successfully navigated all five road crossings and landed up in town. I was ever so proud of myself. Mr Cooper met me, and we walked around a little, before he said it was time for me to go back to the school by myself. Well, I’d made it one way, so surely I could get back.
I need to explain that these crossings were on a very busy road, so I wasn’t expected to handle them by myself. I had been taught to wait for assistance, and then ask if someone would please cross me over. Perhaps I would have to do this two or three times, or maybe, if the person was feeling generous, they’d help me over all five. So I stood, and I waited. Soon, some youngsters came along, and asked if I needed help. I said yes, and they confidently guided me along. I was a little confused, as something didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. Then came the horrible moment of truth when they left me, and I realised I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
I hadn’t been taught that there were several options, and that each option took you to a different place. The youngsters had taken me the way they usually went, which took them back to their school, but it didn’t take me back to my school. I felt scared and vulnerable, and I didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, Mr Cooper was soon on-hand to set me right, but from that day on my fears over going to unfamiliar places by myself only grew.
This was the image that came to mind when my pastor mentioned blind faith – the image of little ten-year-old me standing helplessly in an unfamiliar place ready to burst into tears. I had thought I knew the way. I had learned it so diligently, but something had gone horribly wrong, and I didn’t know what it was.
In Hebrews chapter 11 verse 1, we are told that faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see. It’s certainly true that there is much about God and the Christian faith that is too wonderful for us to understand, and that’s how it should be, because if it wasn’t, God wouldn’t be God. Yet, there are things we can understand, and there is much we should seek to learn.
A blind person learns a route with a white cane or guide dog in a very specific way, and that’s well and good until something goes wrong, like it did for me that day on the way back from town. Likewise, some youngsters grow up in church hearing wonderful Bible stories and truths, but then they get derailed by something that is said to them during their teens or early adult life, and their faith isn’t strong enough to cope with it. So they are led astray, like I was that day, all be it unintentionally. It’s all well and good to answer a child’s questions about right and wrong by simply saying: “Because that’s what Jesus expects,” or, “Because the Bible says so,” but they won’t be able to grow into a mature adult faith unless they fully understand why he expects it, or the Biblical context behind certain scriptures, and the objections that might be raised.
Many things are taught today that counteract the truths of the gospel. Or perhaps unexpected suffering raises questions that a weak and ill-equipped faith simply cannot answer. A parent dies despite their child’s fervent prayers, and that child turns around and says: “But I thought you told me God is the great healer. What about all those stories you taught me about people being healed in the Bible? He even raised people from the dead, didn’t he? I can’t believe in a loving God who didn’t heal my mum or dad.”
Children brought up in Christian homes go to university and are bombarded by all the reasons why the faith they grew up with is futile and simplistic. What about evolution? What a crazy notion to think the Creator God spoke this whole world into existence, and that he did it in only six days! Surely it’s taken millions of years for us to get where we are, not just somewhere around six thousand! Slowly but surely, faith is unravelled by ideas that are labelled scientific or progressive. God is depicted as a narrow-minded bigot who expects people to live by outdated and unloving standards.
While we can never have all the answers for every doubt or alternative viewpoint that will be presented, I believe we owe it to our young people to prepare them for the anti-Christian arguments they may hear and the disappointments they might have to face. If I had known there were alternative ways to cross those roads, I might have been more specific and made sure I was in the right place before I allowed my guides to leave me. But in my narrow understanding, I thought there was only one way, and so I floundered.
If we are aware of the big picture, we won’t easily get lost. If we know about the pitfalls and the roads to avoid and why it’s important to avoid them, we will be less likely to stray. So we are trying to teach our youngsters why we hold the Christian world view to which we cling. We aren’t shying away from warning them about what they may encounter, and we are praying that this might prevent them from walking away.
Blind faith has its place. We must still be sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see, and we must be aware that we will never have all the answers. However, as we seek to learn through direct communication with God, through his word, and through the experiences of other Christians, I believe this will put meat on the bones of our faith. It will enable us to recognise the counterfeit more easily, and to stay on the narrow road Jesus taught us to follow. Hopefully, we will soon realise when we are straying away from that road and allow our father to redirect our course smoothly and speedily. He will always come and find us, just like my teacher found me when I was lost and alone, but if we allow our hearts to become hardened by the lies of the world and the enemy, we may be less likely to listen to his still small voice.