Faith

Meanderings around a comment on the previous post left by Cathy and a far superior piece of writing than that which is to follow from the wickedly good TracyOC.

I feel that this post probably deserves a word of warning. I have tended to avoid mention of religion here, mainly because when I attempt to even think about faith, God, sin, morality, mortality and so, I can feel my tiny wee brain sputtering, straining and generally reaching a state very close to kaput. But here goes, the wheels are about to come off people. Consider yourself warned that this post doesn't make a great deal of sense.

One thing that has become glaringly obvious since August 2008 is that I have the ability to believe two contradictory things at once, equally fervently. Whether this ability was latent and activated by the events of August 2008, pushing me out into a world where I had to consider possibilities that, up until that point, I had preferred to ignore, or whether that ability was conferred upon me by Georgina's death, is a moot point. I can hardly remember what I thought, or how my brain worked, or even who I was, prior to then.

Between the 26th and 29th of August, I was convinced that Georgina would live, saved by medical technology and the cleverness of mankind, saved by nebulous forces of Good. Because she had survived thus far, because she was named after my grandmother, because God loved me and would answer my prayers (although how I squared this with the fact that many, many other cries that rose up over those three days would go unanswered I have yet to figure out), because the doctors were too clever and the machines too efficient to let the outcome be otherwise.

Between the 26th and 29th of August, I was convinced that Georgina would die, because that knowledge was born deep in my bones just as surely as she was born from me, because mankind simply isn't that damn clever, because machines malfunction and break, because she would be condemned by nebulous forces of Bad. Because I was a rotten, broken person, because God hated me and either scoffed at my prayers or sternly waved his finger at me.

And I am certain that, if I were to root around in the distant past of this blog, I would find two contradictory descriptions of that time. The happiest time of my life, the saddest time of my life. But neither of them are lies. My certainty that she would live, my certainty that she would die, are both equally true. My surprise when she did. My sense of something inevitable occurring when she did. Not irreconcilable to my new and twisty brain. Both descriptions are a reflection of the truth, in my Schrodinger's cat like mind where both things happened, happen and continue to happen. And I'm not opening the box to find out the true state of affairs thank you very much. I'll keep the top of my skull right where it is.

In the Venn diagram of my superstitious and rather limited world view, two circles can overlap and, eventually, engulf one another, a multiplicity of statements and intentions happily co-existing whereas previously I had felt that one had to be pushed out in order for the other to remain believable. I used to think that I couldn't have both. But now there is no room for mutual exclusivity in my world, the conditions in my brain fall into perfect intersection every time. In the world of probabilities, things that looked like P(A and B)= 0, blur and rearrange into a world where there are no disjoints. I can have it all. Even if I don't particularly want any of it.

My brain has become an odd, bifurcating place. Sometimes I look in the mirror and feel vaguely surprised that I do not have a tree growing out of the side of my head. Or at least something slightly more branchy and leafy than the apparently smooth expanse of skull, skin and hair that is reflected back at me.

I suppose that what I am groping towards is that since Georgina died I have both perfect faith and no faith at all. So it provides both every single consolation and none whatsoever depending on the light and the prevailing wind conditions. And I'm fairly sure that maintaining faith in the presence of no faith precludes that faith being perfect? Hedging your bets, I hear you cry. Yes, 'tis convenient I will admit but there you have it.

I always found a strange beauty in the idea of the leap of faith, the virtue of the absurd, of finding certainty where, by rights and rational argument, there should be no such thing. Something that makes so little sense that, in a circular fashion, it could possibly make all the sense in the world.

It is hard to make that leap, to choose to believe in anything benevolent, or kind, or beautiful, when life has grabbed you by the head and smooshed your face up against the plastic wall of an incubator and forced you to watch your baby die by degrees. So that there can be no doubt that this particular individual, this part of the wonder of creation, who to you is all the world and your heart and your dear, dear love, is going to stop before she even really got started. And it is, in all probability, going to hurt her. It's certainly going to hurt you and anyone who has even a passing care for you.

But when I looked at my daughters, close up, how I could fail to believe in kindness, in beauty, in benevolence? Because the living yearn for life and those two tiny babies reached out towards it. Even watching those stretching arms made my heart curl around itself.

When you are in that impossible place, what else can you do, where else can you go? In order to carry on breathing in and out until your turn comes around. You have to believe. You have to disbelieve. All at once.

And because this sort of post would not be complete without some sort of Biblical quotation, here is a bit of Exodus 33.

And the LORD said unto Moses, I will do this thing also that thou hast spoken: for thou hast found grace in my sight, and I know thee by name.

 And he said, I beseech thee, shew me thy glory.

 And he said, I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will proclaim the name of the LORD before thee; and will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will shew mercy on whom I will shew mercy.

 And he said, Thou canst not see my face: for there shall no man see me, and live.

 And the LORD said, Behold, there is a place by me, and thou shalt stand upon a rock:

 And it shall come to pass, while my glory passeth by, that I will put thee in a clift of the rock, and will cover thee with my hand while I pass by:

 And I will take away mine hand, and thou shalt see my back parts: but my face shall not be seen.

I've always liked these verses, particularly in the King James version. Everything sounds better in the King James.

When it comes to faith, I think that is where I am.

Wedged in the clift of the rock, facing the wrong way and covered up by a hand whose existence I am uncertain of.

Part of me reads these verses thinking, "Hmmmm, magical face that nobody can see without expiring? Back parts you say? Well well well, how very convenient for You." 

Immediately followed by cowering and fear of smiting. And you will note that I have capitalised the Y so I must believe that Someone is watching.

Part of me reads this thinking, why did you not show mercy to me? Why did you not show mercy to her? Or shew mercy even. And my question is answered, left hanging in the air and rendered entirely irrelevant all at once. Mercy, no mercy or a world where it is just a question of chances and biology and mercy never enters the equation. Or only the mercy wielded by mere humans. 

A God whose actions were kindly but un-interpretable, a God whose actions were a punishment, a God who is looking away, distracted by bigger mysteries than mine, no God at all, a roaring void, a calm absence, a place where the absence of God would be a blessed relief. All of these things happily line up next to one another. And I can choose which one I will or believe in all of them at once. 

Part of me is convinced that a great deal of nothing will pass behind me whilst I am wedged in that rock, not looking. 

Part of me is convinced that all the glory in the world rushes past my unsuspecting back.