The Fight for Faith

By no power on earth can a person cling to God

Jacob and the Angel by Sir Jacob Epstein displayed in the rebuilt Coventry Cathedral. (Photo by Amanda Slater)

Earlier this week, a group of friends and I had an interesting discussion about faith. We held a variety of opinions on religious issues, ranging from very dedicated theists to those who were entirely agnostic, and including those who had grown up around Christians, Jews, Muslims, and Hindus. One of our more agnostic friends asked how those of us who are Christians maintain our faith given a variety of potential obstacles. One by one, the Christians answered, all adding something valuable to the discussion.

When it was my turn to speak, I surprised some people by acknowledging that I had doubts about my religious faith and had experienced them since I was young. I think this confused my friends because my Christian faith is so important to me and I speak about it often, but I told them doubt is a natural part of living in a world where deception occurs. Even many Christians who seem “strongest” have struggled with severe doubts.

I then explained that the older I get, the more I think about faith in terms of desire rather than mere intellectual assent. Yes, there is a part of faith that involves acknowledging a certain set of propositions, but while rational argumentation is a useful way to buttress faith, it does not create it. In the end, people believe what they want to believe. Their loves and desires are pointed in a particular direction (or directions, since humans tend to be contradictory), and this facilitates the development of faith in the same direction.

So, for someone to become a Christian, they must fall in love with Christianity and desire what the Christian life offers. This is true of anything in which a person chooses to place their faith, and we do not create desire within ourselves: we can only cultivate or suppress what already exists. For our desires to be changed at the most basic, instinctual level takes what Christians would call an act of God.

Augustine on Desire

I came to this understanding of faith as I was exposed to the teachings of St. Augustine of Hippo, one of the most influential figures in Western thought. It was he who wrote in his Confessions, “You have made us and drawn us to yourself, and our heart is unquiet until it rests in you.”[1] This is in line with the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, who said, “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him; and I will raise him up on the last day.” (John 6:44)

According to Augustine and the Christian Scriptures, no one moves toward God by their own power, but is drawn by the power of God himself. This is why Augustine prayed, “Give what you command, and then command whatever you will.”[2] Elsewhere, Augustine described his experience of coming to faith as one in which he was drawn by a powerful beauty that sought to embrace him.

“I was held back by mere trifles. They plucked at my garment of flesh and whispered, ‘Are you going to dismiss us? From this moment we shall never be with you again, forever and ever?’ And while I stood trembling at the barrier, on the other side I could see chaste beauty, the beauty of continence in all her serene, unsullied joy, as she modestly beckoned me to cross over and to hesitate no more. She stretched out loving hands to welcome and embrace me.” [3]

This is different from the way most of us envision faith, and it is certainly different from how I envisioned it as a young person. I heard people telling me, “You must have faith! You must believe in Jesus Christ!” And I thought in my young mind, “I have doubts. My faith is imperfect. Do I really believe in Jesus deep down?” I wanted so badly to have faith in the Christian message, because I saw its great beauty stretching out hands of love, welcoming me to take part. And yet, my intellectual struggles prevented me from experiencing the full joy of faith.

This is how many people in the West exist in the 21^st century. Yes, there are some who find the teachings of Christianity absolutely unappealing, but there are others who see the beauty, yet are weighed down by the burden of human reason. I have had very intelligent people tell me they lost their faith after reading a book by Bart Ehrmann, or they cannot have faith because of dinosaurs. Reason, science, and higher criticism of the biblical text have, in their minds, made Christian assertions literally unbelievable, because we are nothing if not creatures of reason.

I do not think any of the developments of the past few centuries have made Christian assertions impossible for a rational person to believe, but I admit this is not the same as claiming the evidence for Christian assertions is so bountiful that a person could never reasonably disbelieve. In fact, there is evidence enough for the believer, and doubt enough for the skeptic. Where we fall depends on where we started: whether our desires are pointing toward Jesus or not. And Jesus himself said that our desires will only point to him if God draws us, which means the very best rational argument for Christianity will not convince a single person who is not drawn by the heartstrings.

The Example of Jacob

So often, I have felt myself grasping onto faith, clinging with all the strength within me, praying the bond does not snap. I have wrestled with doubts, seeking to overcome them and drive them into the dirt. But all along, I was not holding on to God: he was holding on to me.

There is an interesting story in the Book of Genesis that illustrates this point. It involves the Jewish patriarch Jacob, who had an odd experience one night.

“Then Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he touched the socket of his thigh; so the socket of Jacob’s thigh was dislocated while he wrestled with him. Then he said, ‘Let me go, for the dawn is breaking.’ But he said, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’ So he said to him, ‘What is your name?’ And he said, ‘Jacob.’ He said, ‘Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel; for you have striven with God and with men and have prevailed.’ Then Jacob asked him and said, ‘Please tell me your name.’ But he said, ‘Why is it that you ask my name?’ And he blessed him there. So Jacob named the place Peniel, for he said, ‘I have seen God face to face, yet my life has been preserved.’” (Genesis 32:24-30)

The ending of the story suggests that Jacob was wrestling with no mere man, but God himself. That is strange given that the Hebrew Bible presents God as omnipotent, unable to be bested by any power on heaven or earth. So, why does God take on what seems to be human flesh, or at least the appearance thereof, to allow Jacob to wrestle with him? Why does God allow himself to be overcome, only to disable Jacob with a touch on the thigh?

I have thought long about this, and I believe it is a metaphor for the life of faith. Christianity rests upon a series of seeming paradoxes, one of which is given by St. Paul in his Epistle to the Philippians: “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.” (Philippians 2:12b-13) The human must work, and yet it is God who works. Scripture often speaks in these odd, seemingly contradictory ways.

Thus, I found it helpful to read Dr. Simon D. Podmore’s analysis of the statue Jacob and the Angel by Jacob Epstein. This depiction of the wrestling match is somewhat unique in that the figures do not appear to be wrestling at all.

“The statue does not depict Jacob struggling as such, but rather a Jacob who has struggled and who now hangs drained and weary in the embrace of the angel. This is not Jacob conquering God; nor is it the angel asking to be released. The angel holds a depleted Jacob up; Jacob does not have the angel in his grasp. Whereas the biblical account shows Jacob as resilient and undefeated, Epstein shows Jacob as wilting, yet upheld by the angel who is undiminished. Jacob is exhausted by the struggle, he can go no further. Yet he is supported by the very one who appears as his opponent.”[4]

This led me to wonder, what if the version of events in the Book of Genesis depicts how things seemed from Jacob’s perspective, while Epstein’s statue reveals how things truly were from God’s perspective? What if all that time that Jacob was struggling, he was actually being held?

The Law of Moses in the Old Testament implored the people of Israel to “hold fast” to God if they wanted to receive the rewards of faith. (Deuteronomy 11:22-23) So the Scriptures often speak, even as Christians continue to speak, and not without good cause. The Epistle to the Hebrews says that without faith, it is impossible to please God. (11:6) The passage then proceeds through a long list of people who had great faith: a list that puts me to shame. And yet, at the very end of that list, the author of the epistle says something important:

“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1-2)

Those tremendous saints did not work up faith in themselves, but were granted faith by Jesus, who proceeded to perfect it in them.

Thus, the Scriptures tell us, “The steps of a man are established by the Lord, / And He delights in his way. / When he falls, he will not be hurled headlong, / Because the Lord is the One who holds his hand.” (Psalm 27:23-24) Elsewhere, the Psalmist writes, “If I should say, ‘My foot has slipped,’ / Your lovingkindness, O Lord, will hold me up.” (Psalm 94:18) This is the God who bore Israel on eagle’s wings, (Exodus 19:4) and “spread his wings and caught them” (Deuteronomy 32:11); who hold the waters “in the hollow of His hand,” (Isaiah 40:12) and holds all things together. (Colossians 1:17)

So, faith is more like desire than reason, and more like being held than holding tight. That is how I can have faith, despite my insufficiencies and failings. For it is not by my own power that I keep the faith, but one far greater: a beauty so great, that if you allow it to capture you, you might find the joy you lack.

---

PUBLISHED ELSWHERE:

“The Goodness of God as the Anecdote to Despair” at 1517

---

Can’t get enough of me here? Why not follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram? I am also on Threads with the username amy_mantravadi.

---

[1] Augustine of Hippo. Confessions, ed. John E. Rotelle, trans. Maria Boulding (New York: New City Press, 1997), 39.

[2] Augustine, 263.

[3] https://www.desiringgod.org/messages/for-men-augustine-sin-and-sovereign-joy

[4] Podmore, Simon D. Struggling with God: Kierkegaard and the Temptation of Spiritual Trial (Cambridge: James Clarke & Co, 2013), 17.

All Scripture quotations are taken from the 1995 New American Standard Bible, copyright The Lockman Foundation.