In the Darkness of Waiting

Faith is about honesty, not ceremony.

Pause with that for a moment. Say it aloud if you like. I often do, speaking to my own soul as David did in the Psalms: “Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me praise his holy name” or “Why are you downcast, O my soul?” Speaking truth aloud teaches the soul to listen.

Faith is about coming clean in every area of life. It reveals the limits of our character through humility. It acknowledges the extent of our knowledge by admitting what we do not know. It confesses our dependence as we turn toward God’s grace and the generosity of others. Faith is the depth of relationship—finding God trustworthy and becoming trustworthy in response.

That’s what stays with me: faith is about honesty, not ceremony.

It is about being plain and true in life, with God and with people. It is about exploring without insisting that discovery must fit our preconceived notions. We let God be God. We let life explain itself without fear that it will challenge our beliefs. Advent reminds us that we are waiting—again—for the coming of Jesus, even as we celebrate his first arrival. In that waiting, we can take a fearless stance toward the world. Jesus showed us, and will show us again, how to walk into the fullness of honesty.

Some say they have no faith. They claim not to believe in God, finding only contradiction. They trust in facts, hard and cold. Yet often, beneath the surface, they cling to their own prejudices as tightly as any overzealous believer. Science, too, has its evangelists—confident, insistent, and sometimes blind to their own bias. Bigotry wears many faces, whether in religion, intellect, or ideology. Ceremony is not confined to churches; it is the image we construct of what we want to be true.

Faith, by contrast, is honesty that both steadies and unsettles.

I remember a philosophy professor asking, “Which of you would follow the truth wherever it led?” A few hands rose. Then he added, “Just a reminder to you Christians: Jesus said, ‘I am the Truth.’” More hands shot up. He chuckled, “Too late… too late.” That moment lingers with me. As I move through Advent, I don’t want to be too late in being honest.

This little light of mine

Jesus told of women who waited with lamps burning low. When they left to buy more oil, they returned to find the gates closed. I don’t want to rely on the flicker of my own lamp. I want to sit, even in the darkness of faith, awaiting the true Light of the world.