I have never been one to talk openly about my faith. I’ve always felt that there were those that felt more strongly about their own faith than I did, knew more about the Bible than me, and deserved more of a place at the table in conversations on the topic of faith. I’ll admit, I’ve never been a particularly “good” Christian, whatever that really means. I curse, I skip church on Sundays, oftentimes only pray when times are bad, and I’ve only read the New Testament all the way through once – and that was for a class in college. As a Presbyterian, and a young one at that, I’ve constantly found myself questioning my faith. Now that COVID-19 has taken over everyone’s lives around the globe, I find myself thinking more and more about my relationship with God and Christianity as a whole.
I don’t think I’m the only one in feeling like this; many young people find themselves on the fringes of the Church as they grow older and not because of a global pandemic either. If anything, the pandemic has made me feel more comfortable with talking about faith with those around me. Being open to having conversations of faith in such dire times sometimes feels like the only thing you can do in these situations.
But also, like in my last article, I’m trying to be better about that whole comparing-myself-to-others thing. I understand that my faith isn’t as great as some other devoted young people’s but that’s not to say that mine still can’t also be great. In times of COVID-19, I’ve found my faith to be a comfort that I’m so glad to have held on to and believed in despite doubting myself against these comparisons of mine. COVID-19 is scary, I think we can all agree on that. I certainly don’t have the most incredible and devout relationship with God or the church as some of my peers, but it’s in these times of crisis that I find myself falling back on my faith when I need it most.
Being open to having conversations of faith sometimes feels like the only thing you can do in these situations.
I suppose that might sound selfish, or false, or maybe even blasphemous. To some, to only be a believer in times of need is not to be a believer at all. But that’s not really what I’m trying to say. Faith, for me, is something that is always running on the back burner, I guess. It’s always there, but it’s quiet, I don’t notice it much at times. In my daily life, I try my best to be the best human being that I can be: kind, considerate, and wholly myself in everything that I do. I think, maybe, that’s the kind of person that God wants me to be. Living my life the best way that I can, with my faith running quietly on in the background, is the way that I go about things. Crises of faith and humanity only arise when my backburner breaks, when I am not living my life as best as I can, when my usual way of life falls apart.
Coming back into Christianity during COVID-19 has certainly been uneasy for me. I still have my questions, my doubts, and I can’t go to church on Sundays even if I’d like to – and I would like to, but I’ll stick to virtual worship for now. But more than all these things, I have hope. My faith will always be a personal part of me, given that it is my faith, and no one else’s but my own. It has given me the strength to continue fighting, continue asking questions, and continue seeking comfort in a world where I thought there was none.