Faith stories

It's day four of this yoga retreat in paradise here on the Big Island. There's lots of yoga, ocean views, fresh fruit and time at the pool. I'm doing some reading, too; I'm working on "The Pastor," a memoir by Eugene Peterson (who wrote The Message Bible paraphrase) where he talks about his life and sense of call. It fits in perfectly with my sabbatical theme and I'm enjoying it.

I got to thinking about what to write on this blog this week. I haven't had any more huge Holy Spirit insights, nor am I ready to write a review of Peterson's book (since I'm not finished).

I thought to myself last night: If only I had something new to say about faith stories. Then while I was walking on a garden path alone with sky full of stars overhead, I realized I do have something to say.

Ever since people found out I'm a pastor I've heard a bunch of faith stories. I didn't think to call them that at the time, but that's what people have been telling me all week. It just hadn't occurred to me that they were sacred. But they are, even the tough ones.

I won't give names to my stories and the people who told me them are from all over the nation. None of these stories was solicited by me. I just sat down at breakfast, lunch or dinner and when someone asked me what I did and I told them, this is what they said. They told me their faith stories.

One woman told me she was raised baptist. She even worked for awhile as a youth leader at her church. She gradually begin to question her faith and there was no room in her tradition for those questions. She left the church and no longer believes in God. In fact, she said, every time our yoga teacher mentions "God," she cringes.

A woman told me she was raised Jewish. Almost all of the people on her father's side died at the hands of Hitler. She's a secular Jew now, she says, though she celebrates all the holidays. "They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat," she said, a phrase that apparently applies to any holiday. She holds an annual Hanukkah party and one year it got so big that she had to hold it in a nearby Lutheran church. The pastor welcomed her in. She said it meant so much to her and that it honored her family members who died, because it was a symbol of unity and respect.

Two other women also were raised Jewish but are secular now. One said her religion was yoga. Another said she liked going out for Chinese on Christmas Day because it was the only restaurant open.

A woman who grew up in a small non-denominational church asked me a number of questions about ministry. She said she thought it was interesting because as she was growing up she had always wanted to be a missionary, but life took a different turn.

There are a few others, but those are the ones that stick with me. Those are their faith stories, told to me with honesty and openness. It reminds me to stay open to the stories yet to come.