How Would You Define Your Faith?

On a recent trip to Oklahoma City to visit and provide support to my elderly father, I had the always joyful opportunity to get together with some old and dear friends. Yes, “old” because nearly all of us have reached our sixth decade of living, which arguably isn’t old, by the way, and “old” because some of us have known each other literally for as long as we can remember. We met at a local restaurant, Hefner Grill, a personal favorite of mine, situated on the banks of Lake Hefner. Lee Ann arrived first, something of a phenomenon, and we found her at a lovely half-round booth that opened to picture windows along the length of the restaurant that faced the water offering a beautiful view of the lake. In addition to Lee Ann and myself, the other participants’ were Holly, Amy, and Lisa. Two of our usual number who were unable to attend and were dearly missed were Myra and Tracy.

It should be said that this small group was not all-inclusive. There were others not present who were an integral part of our youth group growing up. Some of them were in other age groups who graduated from high school a year or two before or after us; many

now lived in other states. We have often talked about planning a reunion of sorts to gather as many from across the country that we can find. Perhaps we could use my dad’s old church directory to help us ensure that we include everyone. On a visit to my dad’s house, Holly found it and snapped some pictures of a few ancient photos.

We began our soiree that evening with the usual banter of recollections from our last get-together, missives about those who were absent, and expressions of appreciation for those present. When our food began to arrive, Holly extended her hand to me on her right and to Lisa on her left, and we all followed suit, grasping hands as Holly offered a beautiful prayer of thanks and blessing.

Soon, our conversation evolved, as it often did, into deeper realms about life, philosophies, and religion. It was a natural progression for us, as we shared a common love for Jesus Christ and especially for His church, of which we are all a member. My memory isn’t the best when it comes to accurately recollecting details, but I'll do my best. I don’t remember who it was, but someone asked if I attended church near my home in Florida.

Now, church attendance was always very important growing up. I think I can speak for everyone at the table that evening who grew up going to church together that we never missed a service unless we were sick or out of town. That meant two worship services on

Cherokee Hills Church of Christ, Oklahoma City

Sunday, a Wednesday evening bible study, and any other special meetings that might be called. It wasn’t just a habit; in our eyes it was a commandment from Hebrews 10:24-25: “And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works: not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.” (KJV)

Even more than a commandment, for us, church attendance blessed our lives. The fellowship we enjoyed with each other was special and created the bonds that have lasted some 60-plus years. None of us would put a price on our friendships for they are truly priceless.

Back to the question about whether I attended at home or not. I answered no, that I had visited one church several times but never felt a lasting connection there. And then I believe it was Amy, who can always be counted on to contribute a challenging remark, or perhaps it was Holly, who asked me, “How would you define your faith?”

Wow, try answering that one on the spur of the moment. My first thought was, strong. My faith has always been strong, but that was little more than an adjective, not really a definition. How would I define it? Hmm. I was at a loss as I stumbled around for the words that eluded me.

Sometimes it’s surprising how answers come to you.

After our wonderful dinner together and the remainder of my stay in Oklahoma City, I hit the road for the second leg of my journey: to Fort Campbell, Kentucky to see my Army son and meet his girlfriend. It was nine or ten hours of driving that gave me plenty of time for reflection, but I have to admit that I really didn’t use it to think about the question my friend had posed. Neither did I think about it on the more than seven-hour drive home to Navarre a few days later. I was looking forward to being home, sleeping in my own comfy bed, and progressing with my plans to do some home improvements. It was the latter which was the catalyst for provoking my thoughts once again on Amy’s query.

On Friday morning, I had an appointment with a representative from a contractor to take measurements and provide a quote for the five relatively small jobs that I wanted done. The rep’s name was Dave, and my encounter with him was, shall we say, enlightening. He was very pleasant and personable, and admittedly, very talkative. I apologized for my messy house and explained that I had just gotten home the night before from a nearly two-week trip. He asked where I had gone, and I told him to Oklahoma City to visit my dad and then to Fort Campbell to see my son. Somehow the conversation turned to the challenges of parenting and adult children, but I admit that I don’t recall that part very well because I was focused on the task at hand: showing Dave my projects so he could take his measurements and advise me on how we would get it done.

We made our way upstairs to the master bedroom where a new patio door would replace the French doors that opened onto my balcony. I had removed two 7-foot-tall cabinets that had been positioned on either side of the doorway, and all of the books and knick-knacks they had previously held were now either in a box or crowded onto my dresser and nightstands. Dave had already established that he was a fellow Christian, and it was apparent to me that he was sincere and transparent in his experiences and beliefs, which were quite similar to my own. He took notice of one book on my nightstand titled, When Skeptics Ask, by Norman L. Geisler, and I told him that I bought that book for my sons to read. And then, for the second time in less than a week, I was asked if I attended a local church. I told him I had visited Gateway Church of Christ in Pensacola some years ago, before they sold their property to Baptist Hospital and opened a new location on Creighton Road in 2021. He said that he too had visited there a few times, and then he told me a couple of stories that I have been thinking about ever since. I will recount one here with some artistic license as to exact quotations.

“You know, for me, I think the problem is that churches have become businesses,” he said. “I mean, the first century Christians didn’t all get together and say, ‘Let’s build a building to get together in.’ They met in each other’s houses or, as the bible says, ‘in a room.’ Do you know when the first church building was built?” he asked, and I said no. “It wasn’t until sometime in the third century A.D. by the emperor Constantine.”

As Dave talked, it dawned on me that I was getting help with my answer to the question about my faith. It happens that way sometimes, unexpectedly, from a completely surprising source.

As we continued to discuss our shared disillusionment with organized religion, Dave told me about a local church that raised money to send water to an African nation that had a desperate need for it, and they raised around five thousand dollars towards the efforts. But by the time all of the logistical costs were assessed to get it to its destination, there was very little water actually delivered to the people who needed it. Yet this same congregation invested over five million dollars in a new church building.

“Imagine what you could do in a community like Milton with five million dollars,” he said.

Imagine, indeed.

Think about the care that goes into planning a new church building, from the color schemes that are most inviting and inspiring to the comfort of the cushioned pews. Are the classrooms and auditorium outfitted with the latest technology? Is there a place for social gatherings, banquets, wedding receptions, or holiday parties?

These are all good things; right? Then consider this: When Constantine began erecting church buildings throughout Rome, some considered these places of worship to be pagan symbols in themselves, similar to the temples erected to the gods. It’s understandable to me how some might hold this perception today.

Last Sunday for the first time since they moved into their new building, I visited Gateway. I immediately noticed the attractive sign with the "Gateway" logo prominently displayed on it. I was warmly greeted when I entered the large foyer. I walked to a round counter where a friendly woman said hello to me and asked if I was visiting. I chatted with her for a few minutes and plucked a printed flyer from a tray with the order of the morning's worship service outlined on it and located the individually packaged communion elements in plastic bags in a wicker basket. I then entered the large auditorium and began looking for a place to sit. Interestingly, there were no pews. Instead, the expansive hall was furnished with very nice padded chairs carefully placed side by side in long rows in sections divided by wide aisles. I found a spot that suited me on the front aisle of a section near the back where I could look around for anyone I might recognize, although I didn’t see any familiar faces. A couple sat to my right in chairs a friend had saved for them, and a few minutes before the service began, a young couple from Tennessee asked if they could sit next to me on my left. I smiled and told them, “Of course, please do.”

Their names were Katy and Alex, and we chatted briefly before an enthusiastic song leader asked us to stand, began clapping his hands, and started singing a song I did not recognize. In fact, during the entire service, there was only one song that was familiar, but I didn’t know it well enough that I didn’t have to rely on the words projected on the huge screen above the stage. And yes, it was a stage with tall, crimson, velvet-looking curtains that spanned the backdrop and came together at the center of the wide dais. I have no idea what lay behind the curtains, but I didn’t get the impression that it was a baptistry. Later, when Lead Minister, Jeremy Kuehn, delivered the message, he made reference to the invitation that was always offered to anyone who might want to be baptized, and he appeared to point at the floor under his feet when he said, “You can be baptized right here this morning.”

By the way, I dearly love the song service with other Christians. I don’t fancy myself a particularly good singer, but I can carry a tune, and I enjoy harmonizing. I learned to read music from the old Alton Howard, “Songs of the Church” hymnal and preferred to sing the

alto part when I could. Songs were so easy to learn when you could see the notes, and there are probably a hundred old hymns I can sing without looking. No doubt, many of the members present last Sunday could join in the singing without looking at the words on the screen, but in spite of a “worship team” standing in the row in front of the stage with microphones, it was nearly impossible to make out the parts of the harmonies. Some congregations have multiple services to accommodate those of us who are “old school” when it comes to worship. I’m somewhere in between, and I have to admit I felt uncomfortable and inhibited about participating in the singing. I was very disappointed about that aspect of my visit, and there is only one service each Sunday. The song leader was excellent in his own right, and I learned he was a former member who was visiting while the regular song leader was on vacation, so maybe it is different when he’s there. I’m willing to attend again to see.

Listening to Jeremy Kuehn, on the other hand, I felt inspired, affirmed, convicted, and encouraged. He is truly knowledgeable and gifted to share God’s Word in a way that was true to the Word. Moreover, he was courageous in his message. He’s teaching a series on “The Subtlety of Idolatry.” I don’t know how many of his lessons I’ve missed, but the last two focused on sexual sins, and I can attest that the latter of the two was applicable to all of us in one way or another, if we’re honest.

I have to say here that I find a potentially valid link between the pagan temples of Constantine’s time and the multiplexes we construct today. There’s a commercial aspect to them that I find distasteful. Am I just old fashioned? Is this truly a new age that demands progressive changes if we are to reach the lost? Certainly, young people would feel switched off by the simpler, less technological atmosphere of the church my friends and I grew up in.

". . . the influence of the secular world has invaded the church."

It wasn't just the building and the song service that caused me to doubt the modernity, indeed the trendiness that seemed to characterize what I was experiencing. This is where it becomes very difficult to explain what I'm saying without being accused of being a judgmental prude, but I find the most accurate way to express it is by saying the influence of the secular world has invaded the church. One of the ways it was most evident was in the attire worn by some of the young women. It may be acceptable to our society in general, but it's appropriateness to the nature of holy worship to our creator is highly suspect. For women, in particular, I think you can wear anything you like to church as long as it is modest. Backless and off-the-shoulder dresses have their place, but it's not in a worship service. Modesty is one of those concepts that is all but extinct...gone the way of chasteness and humility. I seriously doubt there are many under the age of 30 who even know what words like "prude," "modesty," and "chasteness" mean. Those who do would probably assign them meaning according to very different standards than my own. I know mine are better, just as I know the values I was raised to live by nourish the soul and fulfill human happiness. All one has to do is listen to the news to see the result of the standards of our secular society: moral confusion and chaos, rampant crime, and corruption in the highest places.

So, do I need to just go with the flow? Are there alternatives and what are they?

Probably the most meaningful spiritual gathering in my memory happened when I was in high school, and it wasn’t in a church building. I don’t remember what day it was – probably a Friday or Saturday – nor do I recall many details of the get together, but I do remember very clearly several of my closest friends sitting around the edge of the pool at my boyfriend’s parent’s house at dusk with our feet dangling in the cool water. The pool was illuminated by glowing lights, the pump hummed quietly in the background, and the air was still warm from the heat of the day. Stars were beginning to twinkle in the night sky as we sang devotional songs that were familiar to all of us from our youth group activities. To hear our voices joined together in harmony rising in the night sky in praise to God was truly moving. As we sang, I gazed around the pool at my sweet friends and my eyes settled on Myra, who had been attending church with her boyfriend, Steve. She had become very special to all of us, but I knew she wasn’t yet a Christian. While we sang, I quietly made my way around the pool to where she was sitting next to Steve, knelt behind her and whispered, “Myra, have you thought about becoming a Christian?”

“Yes,” she said, without hesitation.

“Would you like to, tonight?” I asked.

Again, without hesitation, she answered, “Yes.”

A few minutes later, my boyfriend’s older brother was standing with Myra in the pool. He asked her for her confession that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. She confidently made that confession, and he baptized her in the pool under the stars while we all looked on. When she came up out of the water, we all jumped in to hug her and welcome her into the family of God. It was a moment I will never forget.

Now, I don’t define my faith by church attendance, whether my own or someone else’s, but I will tell you this without hesitation: I can’t imagine how someone who has no faith navigates the pitfalls and sorrows of life. Their faith, or belief, is that this life is all there is, and once it is over, they will turn to dust and forever cease to exist; they who would deny our divine nature and offer no rational explanation for the origins of our concepts of morality, love, friendship, and family. Like the existential marvels of our universe, our solar system, and our planet, they believe that it all came from nothing. Such belief defies logic, reason, and the very science they proclaim is essential to their understanding. In truth, they have no understanding.

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“Hear now this, O foolish people, and without understanding; which have

eyes, and see not; which have ears, and hear not.” Jeremiah 5:21 (KJV).

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How do I define my faith?

It is the source of my well being, of my happiness, of my hope, of my strength.

It is the rock upon which I stand firm when the ground around me is sinking.

When I feel hopeless, it is my reassurance.

It is the light when all around me is darkness.

It is my confidence that the path I follow is righteous.

It is my voice when it is time to speak.

It is my prayer in times of silence.

My faith is everything to me.

II Timothy 1:12