The holidays are difficult when you’re losing your religion.
When your beliefs begin to shift and when doubt creeps in, those dates on the calendar that used to bring such joy, the ones that once set the steady rhythm of your spiritual journey each year suddenly don’t provide the familiar comfort they used to.
Instead of being more deeply connected to God and to your community of faith than ever, you tend to feel more like an orphan; a former insider pushed to the periphery of the party, no longer sure whether to try again or walk away for good. Having something that once was such an integral part of you, now leave you oddly estranged can bring a terrifying existential free fall.
I’ve heard from and spoken to so many Christians who aren’t sure what to make of this season anymore. Many of them are struggling with what they actually believe about the birth and life of Jesus, about his divinity, about how salvation works—and that all adds up to one really strange holiday.
There’s such a commonality of experience for the people I’ve heard from; the religious muscle memory that tells their hearts that they should be in a building somewhere singing songs and praying prayers and feeling feelings, mixed with the profound guilt when they no longer have the slightest desire to do any of it. There is the pining for spiritual security—and tremendous guilt when that security is elusive.
If you’re there right now friend, know that you’re in good company. Many people both inside and outside churches are navigating the treacherous minefield that is carrying faith in seasons of profound doubt.
The bad news, is that there are no easy answers if you find yourself at the precipice of this Christmas season unsure of what to do or what you believe; no silver bullet response that will instantly clear all that is cloudy in you or suddenly usher in simple answers to complex questions that have pestered you for a while.
The good news, is that the only and perfect answer, is to walk into Christmas just as you are without pretense or guilt or editing and know that this is enough. This transparent a spiritual journey might lead you back to a building that used to be so familiar to try once more. It might bring you to your computer screen to participate in a new community of faith half a world away from the safe confines of anonymity. It may bring you to a quiet place of solitary prayer or meditation or to a small gathering of like hearted people.
It might lead you far way from anything remotely resembling religion or church or spirituality—and that’s okay too.
Despite the lights and the tinsel, this season is not about pageantry it’s about authenticity. It’s not about pulling the wool over God’s eyes but about giving God the full weight of yourself and trusting God is able to bear it all. It’s about what you can profess or believe at this moment and making peace with whatever that might be.
Because whatever is true is no less true in those moments we are unable to believe it, anyway. In other words, God is still God even if we can’t see that from where we’re standing; the same way we trust that the sun is shining somewhere, even when all appears dark to us. It doesn’t need our consent to shine.
One of the things that can be so easy to forget when we are struggling with our faith, is that God is not struggling with us. God sees the cavernous depths of our hearts, the meandering curves of our road, and God has a mercy for us that transcends what we are capable of understanding. Because of this we can be encouraged even when we waver, knowing we are fully loved even still.
Others may lose patience or write you off when you vacillate, but you needn’t worry. Though people around you might seek to shame you back into secure faith or to judge you harshly in your doubts, they are not the final word on that matter, and not at all the point either.
The real tidings of great joy, are that God is always going to be more loving, forgiving, understanding, and Grace-giving than God’s followers, and that you are safe in your truth.
Rest securely in that truth, and however you are this Christmas season; whether you are feeling drawn back toward or fully repelled by the religion you grew up with, know this is all you can give and give it unapologetically.
Pray whatever prayer you are capable of praying, even if it barely feels like prayer.
Profess the faith you are able to, even if it is still somewhat smaller than a mustard seed.
Give thanks for what is good in your life; celebrate the people and the things around you that give you joy, and let that be the thread connecting you to this season.
Let your honest declaration of faith or doubt be the most spiritual act you perform.
And as with any day on your spiritual journey, may you be your truest self this Christmas.
Let that be the gift you give and receive—and believe that this is enough.
