Navigating Uncertainty: Finding Faith and Purpose in a Changing World

Last summer, life felt simpler, almost to the day. Our family gathered for a reunion in a bustling park, enjoying the warmth of togetherness after years apart. The laughter, the shared meals, the simple joy of being wholly present – it was a moment untouched by the shadow of what was to come. Little did any of us know that a global pandemic was on the horizon, poised to reshape our lives, our routines, and our very understanding of community.

Now, I find myself in Idaho, under the shade of a magnificent pine tree, watching children playfully slip and slide. In these small, fleeting moments, a semblance of normalcy begins to return, a gentle balm for the weary spirit. It’s a powerful reminder that even amidst ongoing challenges, pockets of peace and joy persist, if we only allow ourselves to notice them.

Ancient Wisdom for Modern Trials: Lessons from the Book of Numbers

My mind has been drawn repeatedly to the Book of Numbers over the past few weeks, a section of scripture that seems to hold surprisingly relevant lessons for our current global circumstances. The ancient Israelites, after their exodus from Egypt, found themselves in a desolate wilderness, tested by hunger, thirst, and fear. Their murmuring against God and Moses led to a severe consequence:

“And the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people; and much people of Israel died… Therefore the people came to Moses, and said…pray unto the Lord, that he take away the serpents from us. And Moses prayed for the people. And the Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole: and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live.” (Numbers 21:6-8)

What strikes me most profoundly is that the scripture never once states that the Lord removed the serpents. This raises profound questions about the nature of divine intervention and our expectations of miracles. Is God not all-powerful? Can He not simply erase our problems? Or does His wisdom often lie in providing a path through adversity, rather than merely removing it?

Beyond the Obvious: Understanding Miracles and Divine Answers

The narrative challenges our conventional understanding of prayer and miraculous answers. Are miracles only valid when they manifest exactly as we envision or explicitly pray for? Or can a divine answer appear in an unexpected form, requiring our faith and a willingness to act on unfamiliar instruction?

A friend recently offered a thought that truly resonated with me: “Do you think those who didn’t look at the brazen serpent were standing outside the tents of those who did, ridiculing their seemingly absurd act?” Conversely, were those who looked and were healed quick to judge or condemn those who chose not to, perhaps out of fear, skepticism, or pride? These historical reflections prompt us to consider our own reactions to unforeseen challenges today. What have we collectively prayed and fasted for in recent times? One prominent religious leader made a plea for the global community, requesting “that the present pandemic may be controlled, caregivers protected, the economy strengthened, and life normalized.” How do we recognize the answers to such prayers when they might not unfold in the dramatic, instantaneous removal of the problem, but rather in the incremental strengthening of resilience, the tireless efforts of caregivers, or the gradual adaptation to a new way of living?

Navigating the New Normal: Church in a Pandemic Age

My recent experience at church served as a poignant illustration of these modern dilemmas. Attending a worship service feels profoundly different now. I sat next to my family, yet felt an unsettling sense of isolation. The pews around us were empty – no one directly on our bench, or in front, behind, or to the sides. Social distancing, while necessary, has achieved a strange form of solitude, even when others are physically present. This feeling of disconnect, this enforced separation, is something I find myself struggling to embrace.

The hymns, usually a powerful chorus of unified voices, were quieter, almost hushed. The vibrancy seemed dimmed. I observed a little boy repeatedly adjusting, pulling, and touching his mask, a hundred times over, a testament to the unfamiliar burden placed upon even the youngest among us. For my own part, wearing a mask during the service often made me feel like Darth Vader, my own heavy breathing amplified, a constant, slightly suffocating presence. “Luke, I am your father,” I imagined my inner monologue intoning, the absurdity of the situation almost comical, yet undeniably real.

The Mask Dilemma: Faith, Comfort, and Community

The mask issue, in particular, has become a microcosm of larger societal debates, intersecting with personal comfort, scientific uncertainty, and collective responsibility. Our younger daughter, who initially adapted well, has developed a strong aversion to masks. She describes feeling claustrophobic, becoming antsy and upset after a short while. I, too, grapple with uncertainty, pondering the actual efficacy of masks in various settings. These personal struggles are mirrored by the broader questions many are asking about how best to navigate the ongoing health crisis.

Paradoxically, church at home, initially a necessity, evolved into a surprisingly sweet and impactful experience for our family. We’ve had deep, meaningful discussions and felt the Spirit powerfully in our own living room. There were even times we concluded our home worship feeling a need for further discussion, a desire to delve deeper because we felt an intellectual or spiritual lacking from the formal online service. This highlights a fascinating tension: the profound longing for communal worship versus the unexpected intimacy and tailored experience of worship in one’s own space. But then, as I reflect on the Israelites, I wonder…

Echoes of Obedience: What the Israelites Teach Us

I can only imagine the feelings of the Children of Israel when Moses, their revered leader, announced God’s solution: “I’m going to find a stick in this desolate desert – just a common, unremarkable stick. And on it, I’m going to place a serpent, a symbol that has brought death and terror to so many. And all you have to do is look at it, and BAM! You will be healed.”

The scriptures, notably, never record them saying, “And using their perfect, unshakeable faith, they looked and prayed fervently for the miracle, and were healed.” Instead, the instruction was simple: look. I can almost hear the murmurs of disbelief. How many must have thought, “This is absolutely crazy! A stick? A snake? That’s not going to do anything! I believe in miracles, but this feels… a bit nuts.”

And so, as the narrative suggests, some chose not to look, perhaps out of skepticism, pride, or a perceived lack of logic, and tragically, they were lost. Others, no doubt, possessed great faith, a deep conviction that God’s word, delivered through Moses, would bring about the promised healing, and they looked with certainty.

The Transformative Power of Simple Obedience

But then there was a third group, and it is this group that offers perhaps the most profound lesson for our times. These were the ones who, perhaps, didn’t fully understand. They might have harbored doubts, or even found the instruction illogical. Yet, their faith was strong enough to prompt them to say, “I don’t know if this will logically work, but I love God, I trust my leader, and I will be obedient because I know, deep in my soul, that obedience itself, irrespective of immediate understanding, brings blessings.” Some simply looked, out of a profound commitment to obedience, a willingness to trust a higher power even when the path was unclear. And in the eyes of a loving God, even that was enough. They, too, were healed.

This insight brought me back to my feelings of emptiness at church. Was my discomfort, my perceived lack of the Spirit, a test of my own willingness to “look” at the unfamiliar, to find the sacred in the modified?

Rediscovering the Spirit: Tuning into a New Frequency

As I sat in the quiet, socially distanced pew, feeling uncomfortable and sensing a distinct lack of the spiritual vibrancy I had anticipated, a memory of my mother’s words from months prior flooded into my mind. She had often taught, “We must learn to recognize how we feel the Spirit at different times. Oh, when I’m depressed, the Spirit feels like this. When I’m tired, I feel it like this.” She explained that God never truly leaves us; rather, our mortal selves – our fatigue, our anxieties, our emotional states – can sometimes place a muffled blanket over our spiritual perceptions. It is in these moments that we must consciously learn to still recognize His love, His presence, and His guidance.

So, I shifted my perspective. I thought, “Okay, if this becomes the new norm, how can I help my children embrace this new way of worship and still feel the Spirit?” It wasn’t about wishing for the old ways to return, but about actively seeking spiritual connection within the current reality.

Finding Familiarity in Unfamiliar Times

As I listened to the speaker, I allowed myself to simply feel, to be present without judgment or expectation. And a powerful word emerged from within my heart: familiar. I sat there, remembering all the years we had gathered and worshiped together, feeling a deep wave of gratitude for those shared experiences, even as the present moment was different. And then, it was there. That sweet, undeniable feeling of “this is good” washed over me. I knew, with a quiet certainty, that we would indeed return to a sense of unity and upliftment, perhaps not in the exact same format, but in a renewed and deepened way.

“Called to Serve”: A Deeper Understanding of Divine Purpose

The service continued, and then the speaker moved from the pulpit to the piano. He began to share a personal reflection about the hymn “Called to Serve.” He explained, “For so long, ‘Called to Serve’ was this loud, marching anthem for me, a song that made me envision going out with all my might to preach the gospel and bring people to Christ with fervent zeal.”

But then, he continued, something profound shifted during his missionary service. “On my mission,” he said, “I learned that true missionary work is fundamentally gentle. It’s loving. And above all, it’s deeply rooted in service. So, I kept the original words, but I composed entirely new music for it, music that reflected this deeper, more tender understanding.”

And then, he played. He performed the most exquisite and moving rendition of “Called to Serve” I had ever heard. It wasn’t loud or forceful; it was kind and quiet, profoundly moving, and incredibly mindful. Every note spoke of selfless love and gentle outreach. My heart swelled, once again filled with that familiar, undeniable spirit, the one that whispers, “God is real.” It was a beautiful testament to how even our sacred traditions can be reinterpreted and imbued with deeper meaning as we grow in understanding and experience.

Hearing Him in Every Season: A Call to Spiritual Resilience

Right now, so much feels different. Change is a constant companion, and for many, it is incredibly hard. Perhaps you’re experiencing a profound sense of loneliness, or even questioning God’s presence, feeling as though He is silent in these tumultuous times. I, too, have wondered why the spiritual landscape can sometimes feel so quiet, so devoid of the familiar echoes of divine comfort.

But perhaps, just perhaps, we are being invited to tune into a new frequency, to learn to hear Him in a different way. A way that is less about grand pronouncements and more about gentle whispers. A way that is less about forceful action and more about loving service, just as that powerful hymn reinterpretation taught me. If I hadn’t sat in that pew with an open heart and a sincere desire to feel, to perceive, I never would have had that transformative experience. It requires work, it requires conscious effort, and it demands our vulnerability. But we absolutely can hear Him, even if it means patiently practicing, turning our faces upward in hopeful anticipation, and actively seeking His presence until His gentle voice resonates within our souls once more. For even in the quietest moments, God is always speaking, always guiding, always loving.