Silver Veins of Faith

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation. By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.”

Hebrews 11:1-3

Blessed are the men of Noah’s race that build

their little arks, though frail and poorly filled

and steer through winds contrary towards a wraith,

a rumor of harbour guessed by faith

Mythopoeia, J.R.R Tolkien

I have spent a lot of years in this sickness, wondering why my apparent faith sill leaves me doubting that I will ever be healed. So many people have prayed over me such bold prayers. I have been on prayer list after prayer list, in at least 7 states and 3 countries. People have cried for my healing, demanded it by the Goodness of God, anointed me with oil… every single prayer said over me is so precious to me… and every single time those prayers come I find myself dialoguing with God: “This could be the time. You could exhale on me right now and end it all. You are powerful enough. You are good enough. I know you can; I know you want to…”

But there is always a quiet resignation to disbelief in those words. Oh, I believe the words I say… but I never believe that He will actually heal me… why–how could my faith be so weak?

I think that many people struggle with this question. I imagine the first problem is that we do not have the correct idea of faith.

…except the word “assurance” in Greek does not mean the same as it does to us. Hupostasis (hoop-os’-tas-is). It is a setting under, a support. The substance of something, or, abstractly, the assurance. It is from a preposition and a verb that together mean the agent through which to stand upright.

So faith is the foundation of our hope, our expectation.

“Conviction” there means evidence or reproof. I don’t believe that means that faith is supposed to give us clarity and assurance (in our terms) that what we do not see exists. Our understanding of the unseen is by faith. It is not a complete knowledge or positivity. It is a silver-breathed understanding of reality.

Silver-breathed. I spent so much time on the title page of this site attempting to unpack the significance of that word to me. I am only now beginning to realize the strong connection between myth and faith.

“The more lucidly we think, the more we are cut off; the more deeply we enter into reality, the less wee can think…. Of this tragic dilemma, myth is the partial solution. In the enjoyment of a great myth, we come nearest to experiencing as a concrete what can otherwise only be understood as an abstraction.”

Myth Became Fact, C.S Lewis

That “assurance” which is supposed to be an abstraction becomes concrete. That’s what faith is, to me it seems. That I give up the concrete knowledge of something in order to understand it.

“By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.”

Hebrews 11:3

The world is not made out of the moral. All of this tangible that we see is not what the world is made of. Mountains and sunsets aren’t made of stone and fire. Men aren’t made of flesh and bone—they’re made out of the Glory and Beauty of God–and that is something we can only understand if we allow ourselves to comprehend without a concrete assurance.

There is no way for me to have faith in my salvation if I am to intellectually apprehend that every sin that I give into on an hourly basis are nothing in the eyes of God because of the cross. There is no way I will ever understand that… but if I focus on the silver vein of faith–just look at the beautiful myth became fact of who God is–then it becomes so much simpler. All of Creation is a Heavenly Symbol. All that we casually observe in this passive world is not what we so casually think of it. By faith we understand: we observe, we comprehend as we consider. We do not find perfect clarity and omniscience of Creation. Our understanding is breathed through silver. Our assurance is standing from our silver chairs and vowing to look for Overland, even if we’re not convinced that it exists.

So now, I know what faith is–or, at least, I’m a little closer… so what do I fail to have my faith in that lets my doubt tether so closely to my heart? I belive so deeply that God breathes beauty into this fading world–that He redeems all, sublimates even the darkest corners of Creation…

Somehow, though… all that faith stops at my skin… I don’t see beauty as mine… somehow I function under the impression that beauty is outside of me–that the Presence of God is right there in front of me touching everything, filling the world with Glory and Brilliance–beauty is right there… but I can only see it from behind my hurt…

I still believe the Presence of God is in me–I can even believe that beauty flows from heaven through me, right out to the earth… but it’s still not mine… all that is meant to be left to me is pain…

How can I think that–God help me understand why my most inner being seems to believe that pain is stronger than beauty–when all that I see screams the contrary… You are beautiful. Your radiance shines out of darkness. With You there is no shifting or shadow due to change. Pain has never hindered You.

I’m here waiting for a light-bulb moment, for an explanation–for clarity… but I think that goes against everything I’ve been saying… maybe I don’t need to know right now. Maybe that I believe in Beauty and I hope in Redemption is enough… O Lord, I know You are enough. But a shadow of You is enough. However long this pain be allowed to plague me, I will never choose to think that this darkness is stronger than You. And if these prison walls appear to be keeping out Your light, then I will remember that the universe is not made out of what is appearing. It is made to be seen, so that You may use the symbol of my vision to teach me to look beyond it at the Glory that is to come… but for now, just let a beam of light leak through my bars. O My Beloved Lord, that is enough

I would that I might with the minstrels sing

and stir the unseen with a throbbing string

I would be with the mariners of the deep

that cut their slender planks on mountains steep

and voyage upon a vague and wandering quest,

for some have passed beyond the fabled West

I would with the beleaguered fools be told,

that keep an inner fastness where their gold,

impure and scanty, yet they loyally bring

to mint in image blurred of distant king,

or in fantastic banners weave the sheen

heraldic emblems of a lord unseen

Mythopoeia, J.R.R Tolkien