"One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism"

So far during my short trial as a blogger, I have tried to avoid topics that I felt were overly controversial, naive, or cliche. I must admit that I do not feel entirely capable of defending my next statement as well as I would like to, especially since this notion has come to be so ridiculed by our progressive, pluralistic culture. I would like to explore the belief in one true religion, and ultimate truth.

I'm sure we've all heard the saying "there are many paths to heaven," or something similar. Newsweek magazine recently featured an article on the subject, titled "We're all Hindus now" (a reference to the core Hindu belief in a multiplicity of paths to salvation), which cited a study the Pew Forum, reporting that a majority of Protestant Americans now believe that people of other faiths can achieve salvation (this group is traditionally the least inclined to believe thus). This pluralistic, and even pantheistic, approach to religion can be attributed to many factors, which I will not attempt to exhaustively categorize here (collective sigh); however, undoubtedly, a few of these factors include society's emphasis on religious/cultural tolerance and relativism, as our society becomes more secular, and I believe it can also be attributed to general spiritual laziness.

Lately I have experienced a "cooling" of my own religious fervor, as most of my time and mental energy has been funneled into work, school, and preparation for my professional and adult life. I have to work weekend nights in order to go to school full-time, and so this leaves me almost comatose on Sunday mornings, when we go to church. Couple this with the tidal wave of secular thought and argument I encounter daily in academia, and it results in a 'perfect storm' of doubt, nearly capsizing my small vessel of faith. As a returned-missionary, I am able to recognize the pattern, even in myself, of a testimony wavering under fire. I am ashamed that I, too, am capable (or incapable, I should say) of such a thing: being tempted, having doubts, second-guessing, and sinking into skepticism.

I like to think that this is just a transitional time in my life-- a time that will redefine me, for the better-- and that these feelings of doubt, and explorations of other possibilities, are healthy (albeit uncomfortable) and necessary phenomena, ultimately leading me to a stronger, more defensible position of faith. I like to think so, but I'm not so sure.

Two of my favorite religious/philosophical authors, C.S. Lewis & Stephen E. Robinson, have written convergently about the level of dedication and faithfulness required for acceptance into the Kingdom of God, based on scripture: that our devotion must be a conscious and complete willingness to accept and keep the covenant He has proposed for our salvation --knowing that we could be wrong, but choosing this course 'come what may.' It is as a marriage, in which we promise to be faithful, no matter what, trusting that God will never abuse us. They argue that this level of faithfulness alone, and nothing less, that will satisfy our end of the covenant.

Extrapolating this into everyday application can be difficult, but a pertinent example for me is this: to make up my mind now that I will always follow the teachings of the gospel, keep the commandments and the covenants I have made, and when I make mistakes or struggle with doubt, that I will do my best to repent and to reconcile myself to the church, and to God. This would require more than simple activity in church meetings and practices, as this can be done by passively 'running through the motions.' This requires an active awareness of to what it is I am promising, and an unwavering commitment henceforth. And what's more, this should not be a burden, but a liberation (or, in other words, I should be happy about it).

Einstein once said: "He who joyfully marches to music rank and file, has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would surely suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at once." And I have heard other important literary figures suggest that some of the greatest tragedies in the world's history were committed by simple people who had committed themselves to some cause or other, in like fashion. By pure irony, terrible wars have been waged, and countless other atrocities committed, which could have been avoided if people had stopped to think for themselves, and question the authority and inspiration of their leaders.

And so, we begin to get a sense of just what God is asking of us: in the face of knowing that we run this risk (of committing ourselves to a cause we cannot be sure of), me must do it, trusting that this one is the real thing-- the one sure hope for salvation. We must use the brain we have been given, all of it, and still decide to follow him, even blindly, if need be. That is a lot to ask, and for me, it requires a level of trust that I am barely capable of, if at all.

I think, as an attempt to reconcile these conflicting points of view, our society is beginning to popularize this new, open-minded approach toward religion, with the hope that this will curb fundamentalism and extremism, foster diversity, and encourage dialogue between old rivals and xenophobes. Unfortunately, there are unforeseen, undesirable consequences to this strategy, or perhaps they are foreseen, in which case we should worry. One of these consequences is the cheapening of the role of religion in our lives and culture: making its various beliefs and practices nothing more than items to select and mismatch, as if at a buffet, literally making morality and faith a matter of taste, persuasion, and opinion.

I am not a conspiracy theorist. I laugh at, and get furious with the likes of Glenn Beck, Michael Savage, Ann Coulter, Bill O'Reily, Rush Limbaugh, etc., when they prey upon the fears of ignorant people, by insisting that there is some secret, secular New World Order who wants to abolish religion and control our lives; however, I am aware that there are many prominent people (writers, journalists, actors, musicians, politicians, corporate executives, etc.) who do want the public interface of society to be atheistic, and who lobby for such an end. But I don't believe they have some unified 'master plan' to take over the world --they enjoy their freedom just as much as we do.

On the issue of the one, real truth, I believe it must exist. Physicists search for their "theory of everything," which encompasses the labyrinth of quantum mechanics, chemistry, and life itself, and explains these in the language of mathematics. This is a noble search: it will bring us closer to understanding the universe, and ourselves, but it will not complete our understanding, it will not bring the self-actualizing singularity promised by post-humanists, or help us to transcend our mortality and our humble place in the universe. For these are metaphysical quests-- these are the reasons why we are spiritual beings. I think those who put their "faith" in science alone, and advocate that all should follow suit, are doing themselves an injustice, and us as well.

To say it plainly, I believe that there is one true God, and one way to Eternal Life. There may be many paths, but there is only one path that is most direct, and there is only one entrance at the final destination. There is only one ultimate truth, and it is true for everyone. I believe this, and I believe that while some people may be fortunate enough to find it in life, those who do not will be given the opportunity after death, or else God would be a partial being: unjust and unmerciful. I feel that we should search for the truth, and not be content until we are confident we have found it. And if one is not sure ones religion or church is true, why continue to follow it? Why give up the search? We had better believe we are near the truth, or I believe we will have to answer for our negligence in searching it out.