A few years ago, I wrote a poem after viewing the movie Contact. Here it is.
A bolt from the blue
Has struck you
And no one else.
A light from the sky
Hits your eye
But you can't tell.
There are no words that can prove.
You can't deny your heart is moved.
No one believes but that can't sooth
The dawning faith that's come to you.
It's a message from above.
It's believing in the love
That has gripped you.
The force that has tripped you
Into taking that path
You've never seen before.
It's a joy you can't explain
Falling down on you like rain
That will soon dry.
They can't see with their eye
The life-changing flood
That you're diving into
After something much bigger than you makes
It seems like everytime I watch that film I bring something new away from it. It was interesting to watch it this time from the point of view of a person in the midst of a crisis of faith. In the past, I've always felt more like the Matthew McConaughey character. This time, I related more with the Jodie Foster character. The only difference is I haven't experienced a revelation. I'm still in the midst of the crisis. But I am learning that being in the midst of doubt may not be a bad thing.
You see, most Christians would have you believe that doubt is a sin. I feel that way alot. But I'm beginning to learn that perhaps it's not a sin at all. From recent news we have discovered that Mother Teresa herself lived in dark doubt for most of her ministry. If she had had her way the letters she wrote confessing her doubts would have been burned but instead we mere mortals have been given a glimpse into the life of a saint and found that she too was mortal after all. This gives me hope and makes me realize that I'm not the only one who suffers from faith crippling doubt. I know it's not what Mama T had in mind but I thank her for it nonetheless.
I recently blogged about some of my spiritual issues and a friend of mine commented that "Gut-wrenching doubts are always a good place for new faith to begin."
Small moves, Marty. Small moves.
*Contact by Marty Gordon © 2002