I Know Whom I Have Believèd

Easter 2011

The other day my daughter-in-law, Krissy, posted a challenge on Facebook for everyone to “lift up God’s name and make a statement.” Never one to miss an opportunity to express my opinion, I decided to take up her challenge.

I come from a family of “church door” Christians. Every time the church door opened, we were there. I didn’t think much about it at the time; after all, there wasn’t much else to do, and, for the most part, church was fun. My cousins, friends, and I played, sang, giggled, and during the sermons wrote notes on the bulletins. When I got older, I played the piano and organ for services and, still to this day, love the old hymns. Both of my parents sang in the choir until my dad discovered that ushering from the back of the church offered a little more “flexibility” than sitting in the choir loft at the front. My brother was in the church scout troop.

Mine is a familiar story for people who grew up in the Methodist church. Questions were encouraged, and differences of opinion didn’t upset anyone. Looking back, I have to admit the questions weren’t particularly controversial, and most of us held the same opinions. What my church lacked in spiritual challenge, it made up for by providing a safe and loving environment.

Then my mother died. She wasn’t supposed to die at age 60; she was too young, too full of life, too many things still on her “one day I’ll get around to it” list. Her death sent me on a spiritual journey, the end of which I still cannot see 26 years later. The standard issue answers to the standard issue questions from all those partially heard sermons, Sunday school lessons, weeks at the Methodist Church’s Camp Sumatanga, and youth fellowship did not satisfy my broken heart. I needed new answers.

So, Krissy, this is my statement of belief.

God loves every person unconditionally—even the people I don’t particularly like. These people are not all nice, nor do they ascribe to a particular religious or political affiliation, nor do they necessarily live in the United States.

God created. He expects us to figure out how He did it and take care of his creation.

God has only a few rules; man dreamed up the rest.

Christians do not have exclusive rights to God.

My life reflects those things I value, and my actions have consequences.

I am accountable for what I believe.

My spiritual journey persuaded me that God is bigger, more powerful, and more mysterious than I could comprehend. I am committed to following the path that God lays before me and doing so with a keen eye to examining my life. Where there are failures, I will strive to do better. Where there are successes, I will celebrate. And I learned that I am not the first, nor would I be the last, to ask God to explain himself.

After the Civil War, Daniel Webster Whittle wrote I know Whom I have Believed. While the refrain is from the Bible, each verse is a testament to Whittle’s lack of understanding the why of God. Like Whittle, I continue to wonder, question, and at times, rail, but, in the end, I have come to understand that mostly I believe that God is able.

But I know Whom I have believèd,
And am persuaded that He is able
To keep that which I’ve committed
Unto Him against that day.

2 Timothy 1:12


I realize that these statements of belief are skimpy on the details and explanations. I have no interest in complicating matters for myself or others—the simpler the better.

I do disagree, however, with Krissy that Easter is not about bunnies and chocolate eggs. I have it on good authority that, while candy is not central to the message of Easter, God does have a sweet tooth.