Faith: Springs or Bricks?

Today I picked up Rob Bell’s Velvet Elvis for the second time, and this time, actually read past the introduction. I’ve been pretty sure that his stuff would strike a chord deep inside of me, but those of you who know me well know that I have a “To Read” queue that’s as long as my arm. In fact, most of the books that are currently on my bookshelf are only barely begun or not quite finished. But I digress. Back to Mr. Bell.

Rob starts the first chapter, titled Movement One: Jump, by comparing faith to the image of a trampoline, then goes on to parallel the necessary springs with the statements people make about their beliefs. Springs are the doctrines that, when working together with other springs, hold up the mat we jump on, or the structure of our faith. In order to make that trampoline work, the springs should stretch and flex, expand and retract according to how the trampoline is being used. Likewise should our doctrines, the truths that give depth and content to our faith.

By comparison, Rob points out that there are those whose faith more closely resembles a wall of bricks that are laid on top of each other. If one gets knocked loose, several more tumble. Brickians aren’t comfortable with questions being asked of their faith, because they haven’t been introduced to the trampoline. They aren’t familiar with the flexing of the springs. Rob cites the case of one Brickian who was adamant that, “if you deny that God created the world in six literal twenty-four-hour days, then you are denying that Jesus ever died on the cross.” Pull out one brick, the whole wall collapses.

[The wall] appears quite strong and rigid, but if you begin to rethink or discuss even one brick, the whole thing is in danger… but if the whole faith falls apart when we reexamine and rethink one spring, then it wasn’t that strong in the first place, was it? This is because a brick is fixed in size. It can’t flex or change size, because if it does, it can’t fit into the wall. What happens then is that the wall becomes the sum total of beliefs, and God becomes as big as the wall. But God is bigger than any wall.

What is it about questions? Rob again:

…this is why questions are so central to faith. A question by its very nature acknowledges that the person asking the question does not have all of the answers. And because the person does not have all of the answers, they are looking outside themselves for guidance.

Questions, no matter how shocking or blasphemous or arrogant or raw, are rooted in humility. A humility that understands that I am not God. And there is more to know.

Questions bring freedom. Freedom that I don’t have to be God and I don’t have to pretend that I have it all figured out. I can let God be God.

Ah, freedom. The freedom to jump on a trampoline and be launched into the air and know that you’ll be caught gently before you hit the ground, thanks to those springs. Today, that thought feels like the first warmth of spring after a long winter, like the first glimpse of crocuses peeking through the soil, like a pocketful of cash to be spent.

I’ve been a Brickian before, but now that I’ve been on the trampoline, I’m not getting off.

I realize this website won’t give you fame of Biblical proportions, but I’d like to invite you to ask questions like Moses, David, and even Jesus asked of God. Right here. No answers need to be given. You can even post completely anonymously. What doubts do you have? What do you wonder?