Originally I was planning to call this blog Bitter Faith. It felt appropriate because in spite of major deconstruction, my faith was still intact. I couldn’t shake belief in God, but I was bitter – angry, hurt, resentful – at how my specific brand of “faith” had let me down, deceived me, hurt me.

However, I’ve grown past most of the bitterness. I’m embracing my ongoing faith, realizing that the things I currently include and exclude in my accompanying beliefs definitely make me a heretic – a person of faith who holds beliefs contrary to those prescribed as orthodox by the leadership and majority of followers of that faith. Heretical Faith.

Heretic is usually seen as a negative term. In describing why I claimed the label heretic, I frequently detailed the beliefs I had discarded, the ideas I no longer shared, things I had lost.

In order to ensure that I held on to the process of deconstruction, and not just the destination at which it left me, I sought a permanent reminder. A tattoo.

heretic

Emblazoned on the inner right wrist. Simple font. Easy to cover if needed, but pretty much always subtly on display. Mostly for me, so I remember the struggle. Yet available to others as a way to start a conversation.

Counselors have a way of noticing things. He noticed the more conspicuous cherry blossom tattoo on my left shoulder first, but his sights soon found their way to the word on my wrist. “What does that say?”

Following my explanation, which included a description of things lost, destroyed, and thrown away, he inquired of me if I could instead view it as a gain, not a loss. A positive addition to my life, not a negative. I genuinely loved that concept.

The word heresy is derived from the ancient Greek, hairein, meaning “to take,” which gave rise to the adjective, hairetos, “able to choose,” and the noun, hairesis, “the act of choosing.”

Labeling myself a heretic is giving voice and visibility to my ability to choose. I grew up with a belief system that purported to allow one to choose. That choice was incredibly limited, however. There was the “one and only right way” to believe and be faithful. Any other choice led to damnation and destruction. But we were free to choose.

I was a pretty smart kid. If my church and family taught me the “one and only right way” to believe, why in the world would I choose another path? That was just ludicrous. I was certain that the belief system I was taught was the clear choice. If one didn’t choose this particular column of faith, it was likely because they didn’t understand it fully, were selfish or misguided, or just downright willfully rejected the truth. One really wasn’t free to choose.

Through recent life circumstances beyond my control (aren’t they all?), I restarted a pursuit I had begun years ago – looking for the core of faith. What is true for all people, for all time, in every location in the world? I believed that if I could dissect my faith, removing the core of truth from religious culture and customs, I would really have something beautiful and worthwhile to share. And sharing was what I believed I needed to do because the consequences to others if I didn’t were life ending.

Reading with an unquenchable thirst for understanding and knowledge, studying theology alongside others seeking depth in their faith journeys, and questioning if any human being could actually reason their way through scriptural interpretations reliably for the purpose of determining right belief, I went more than a little crazy for more than a little bit of time.

I had been taught to interpret the nature of God by studying the scriptures, but the more I dug, the more I began to feel the need to interpret scriptures by studying the nature of God. The God of nature. Nature. The universe. My existence. Genetics. DNA. History.

My personal experiences with God were overwhelmingly positive. Visions of outstretched arms motioning me to come. Answered prayers, even some that were entirely unspoken and very specific. That feeling in your heart of being accepted, chosen, loved.

There are beautiful passages of scripture that speak to and confirm these experiences. Those are the ones that I believe truly describe a power worth writing about, a force that is creative and powerful enough to spark the first embers of this amazing universe, full of all the potential for growth and learning, beauty and passion, love and acceptance, alongside each of their opposites: decline and ignorance, ugliness and indifference, hate and judgement.

Other sections that recount tales of god demanding the execution of entire people groups, the sacrifice of a beloved child, or the never-ending torture of those who freely choose something different than the “one and only right way,” require twisting and stretching, or uncomprehending trust, in order to use them to interpret the nature of god.

It is true that our personal and intangible experiences with God are subjective and cannot be substantiated. Therefore all people everywhere throughout all time have been seeking to understand their origins, to understand the nature of existence, to understand their purpose for living. The core of truth I sought is hinted at here. At that core I see questions, uncertainty, humility, and a desire to know.

Most faiths have sacred scriptures. There are pointers to God in each. Each chronicles the true experiences of individuals seeking and encountering the divine. The holy book claimed by my column of religious belief is unique in that it includes the accounts of Jesus of Nazareth, yet it is still a narrative documenting the experiences of the writers and their brushes with the heavenly.

There is a desire in people of faith to know for certain what is true. Looking to discover that truth through engaging with the planet, other creatures, and especially other human beings, seems impossible and out of reach. One would have to be in a constant state of wonder and adaptation to have any hope of unearthing the gospel truth through those means.

Wouldn’t it be easier if we just had a book we could study that had all the answers and information we needed to know so we could be certain of the veracity of our beliefs? We could then center our faith on that book. The book would be the most important piece of faith, the only way to know for certain who god is and what he wants from humanity. It would become an object of worship since personal, subjective encounters with the divine are not trustworthy beyond each individual’s sphere. Never mind that there are as many ways to interpret the writings in that holy book as there are verses. Never mind that the writers did not know they were channeling god and creating his word and not their own. Never mind that those who penned the books were actually writing poetry, or letters, or putting down on papyrus the origin stories passed down to them through centuries of oral tradition both within and outside of their people groups. Never mind that the collection of writings were not intended to have chapter and verse numbers and divisions. Never mind that the political councils of organized religion determined which writings would be included and which excluded.

Institutionalizing faith seems to have changed it from faith to certainty. I’m not sure what other options exist, and I am the first to proclaim the value of a process, a system. However, the common result of codifying something organic by nature is not faith and humility. Frequently it is the opposite, certainty and entitlement.

I believe that God is present in the pages of the book called his word. I believe it was inspired by him in the manner that great works of art, music, and poetry are inspired by a lover, a child, a hero. The scriptures speak to the nature of God, but they do not define him or contain him. He is transcendent and goes beyond the bounds of a book.

Apologetics, the practice of providing a reasoned argument for a theological position, is not my goal. I am not trying to convince anyone to believe in the same manner as me. I’m certain that I do not have it all figured out. I just want to give voice to my words, because I have discovered I am free to choose. That freedom is priceless. In that freedom, I’ve found release from a constant load of guilt. In that freedom, I’ve found the ability to accept myself for who I am, which in turn has enabled me to provide acceptance to my children, my husband, and the universe as a whole. In that freedom, I’ve been empowered to live to my best potential. In that freedom, I’ve been empowered to forgive myself for falling short of ideals. In that freedom, I’m simultaneously humbled and powerful.

I have gained freedom. Heretical faith has provided for me something my earlier faith experiences could not seem to achieve. I am at peace. I am uncertain. I truly have faith. This is my truth, and it is setting me free. Faye Mara. Bitter Heretical Faith. Able to choose.