Wanting to Believe
On Christmas Eve I went to see the movie version of the wonderful children's book The Polar Express. The movie, as a sidenote, is magical and entertaining. The tale is about a young boy and other young children who have lost faith in Santa Clause and subsequently the joy that Christmas brings. It occured to me that like the belief in Santa Clause, people's belief in God has dwindled with age and experience, and that the world is truly looking for an honest answer to the void that belief has left.
At one point in the movie, the young boy is talking with a hobo as the train speeds over the track, snow driving across the their faces. The hobo asks the boy what his persuasion is when it comes to the big guy, Santa. And with an emptiness that strains his voice, the boy replies, "I want to believe." Maybe in the midst of a Christmas movie, no one else was struck by that remark, but I was.
Want comes in many different forms. There is the form that causes our hearts to blacken with greed. Other times, want comes to those who truly lack, in which case want is more alike to need. And then there is the want which causes one's heart to pain because that want springs from something we once had but are now missing. And that is what I think the boy meant. He wants to believe because somewhere in the depth of his being he knows what it feels like to believe; he knows what that belief can make him do--the caring for others, the unselfishness that ultimately is born out of believing.
When that young boy spoke those words, I understood him on a much different level and yet, perhaps in the same way. On my best days, I believe in God. I believe that in his love for this world, he chooses to stay the hell out of what we choose to do. When I am at my best as a human, I believe that he is using me of all people to somehow show himself to the world around me. And as a dear Professor has so eloquently put it, God is subtle and elusive. But that is on my best day.
The other days, when the news headlines scream atrocities, when I can't find it in myself to give a damn about the students in front of me, when the story of the Bible seems to absurd in the middle of my reality, believing is the hardest thing to do in the world. Because my reality is that the whole thing is preposterous. A God that cares. This Jesus who was selfless and human. Jacob the Deceiver becoming the Chosen One. King David the Cheat and Half-Naked Lunatic Dancer the descendant of a Saviour. It is just silliness most of the time.
But when I have that feeling when believing is just too difficult, and I find myself saying, "I want to believe," it is great to know that I am not the only one in the world who has that sentiment. And whether it is a Sleigh Bell, like the one in The Polar Express, that reminds me of the other reality, or it is an unexpected smile from a stranger, seeing is believing and sometimes its not.
At one point in the movie, the young boy is talking with a hobo as the train speeds over the track, snow driving across the their faces. The hobo asks the boy what his persuasion is when it comes to the big guy, Santa. And with an emptiness that strains his voice, the boy replies, "I want to believe." Maybe in the midst of a Christmas movie, no one else was struck by that remark, but I was.
Want comes in many different forms. There is the form that causes our hearts to blacken with greed. Other times, want comes to those who truly lack, in which case want is more alike to need. And then there is the want which causes one's heart to pain because that want springs from something we once had but are now missing. And that is what I think the boy meant. He wants to believe because somewhere in the depth of his being he knows what it feels like to believe; he knows what that belief can make him do--the caring for others, the unselfishness that ultimately is born out of believing.
When that young boy spoke those words, I understood him on a much different level and yet, perhaps in the same way. On my best days, I believe in God. I believe that in his love for this world, he chooses to stay the hell out of what we choose to do. When I am at my best as a human, I believe that he is using me of all people to somehow show himself to the world around me. And as a dear Professor has so eloquently put it, God is subtle and elusive. But that is on my best day.
The other days, when the news headlines scream atrocities, when I can't find it in myself to give a damn about the students in front of me, when the story of the Bible seems to absurd in the middle of my reality, believing is the hardest thing to do in the world. Because my reality is that the whole thing is preposterous. A God that cares. This Jesus who was selfless and human. Jacob the Deceiver becoming the Chosen One. King David the Cheat and Half-Naked Lunatic Dancer the descendant of a Saviour. It is just silliness most of the time.
But when I have that feeling when believing is just too difficult, and I find myself saying, "I want to believe," it is great to know that I am not the only one in the world who has that sentiment. And whether it is a Sleigh Bell, like the one in The Polar Express, that reminds me of the other reality, or it is an unexpected smile from a stranger, seeing is believing and sometimes its not.
posted by Mr. McNamar at 9:52 AM
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