Recently, I had a profound conversation with a young Catholic priest, newly ordained yet brimming with life experience. His openness and willingness to listen offered me a fresh perspective on my long-standing struggles with faith. Despite a lifetime spent in the church and a solid Catholic education, I found myself feeling disconnected. The rituals seemed devoid of meaning, prayers felt muted, and the divine presence I once felt so strongly now appeared distant.
Rather than providing the typical answers often offered by clergy, this priest surprised me with a straightforward suggestion: “Use your intellect to navigate your faith. Think deeply and apply logic to your beliefs.” He encouraged me to delve into spiritual literature that embraces the realms of science and reality, rather than relying solely on ancient tales and metaphors.
Reconnecting through the lens of science
He recommended exploring works by authors who ponder profound questions such as, “What can be empirically verified?” or “How does science inform our understanding of consciousness, morality, and the cosmos?” In his view, for some individuals, faith can be nurtured through evidence and the awe-inspiring discoveries of the modern world—particularly in the fields of physics and biology.
As I absorbed his words, I realized that if my faith were to regain its significance, it needed to be rooted in concepts my mind could grasp. The idea of approaching faith intellectually felt like an opening—a potential pathway to renewal.
Embracing doubt as part of the journey
This encounter marked a pivotal moment for me; it was the first instance where a representative of the Church affirmed that doubt does not negate faith. Instead, it can serve as a fundamental component of the journey. As we all experience life’s inevitable challenges, the notion that faith can be a gradual, evolving process resonated deeply with me.
Indeed, life can deal heavy blows. For me, the holiday season is always accompanied by a bittersweet reminder of my mother’s unexpected passing, which occurred thirty-three years ago just outside her beloved church. In my youth, grief consumed me, and my anger towards God lingered far longer than I care to admit. Well-meaning friends offered comforting words, but phrases like, “God has a plan,” felt hollow in the face of such profound loss, especially during a season that should be filled with joy.
Integrating grief into faith
Even today, the shadow of her absence looms during the festive season, a poignant reminder that loss alters everything it touches. While I’ve celebrated many joyous Christmases since, marked by laughter and family, the essence of the holiday has undeniably shifted. This has prompted me to reflect on how grief doesn’t vanish; rather, it becomes a part of our identity.
Throughout the years, I attempted to maintain my faith by adhering to traditional practices—attending Mass and reciting prayers—but the sense of connection continued to wane. In my work with hospice and the funeral industry, I witnessed the rawness of loss in others. Young lives cut short, families torn apart, and parents pleading for solace from a seemingly indifferent God. My own silence further clouded my ability to believe in divine presence.
Redefining the relationship with faith
For an extended period, I nurtured an unarticulated belief: if God existed, He was largely unresponsive to human suffering. However, the priest’s insights lingered in my mind, reshaping my understanding of faith as a spectrum rather than a binary choice. We experience phases of belief and doubt, and sometimes, we must simply pause and allow ourselves to feel.
What if doubt is not the end of faith, but a significant chapter within it? What if the road back to belief does not depend on suppressing our hurt or anger, but rather on embracing the struggle? The most authentic prayer might simply be, “I am here, I am battling, but I am still seeking.”
As the holiday season approaches, I am committed to trying—not in the traditional sense of forcing belief, but in forging a relationship with faith that reflects who I am today. I am a woman shaped by love, loss, and resilience, and I have come to accept that emotions do not fade; they settle into the fabric of our being.
The priest also reminded me that faith does not need to mirror its former self. We evolve through life’s experiences, and perhaps our faith should evolve alongside us rather than remain static.
Finding peace in the journey
This season, marked by both joy and reflection, I grant myself permission to explore a more inclusive relationship with my faith. If you find yourself grappling with similar feelings—uncertainty, distance, or silence—know you are not alone. Many of us, especially those navigating midlife, are redefining our beliefs and understanding what faith means in our current lives.
Instead of striving to recapture the faith of our past, perhaps we should focus on discovering a faith that encompasses our present selves. If that process involves inquiry, reasoning, and gradual reconstruction, it should not be viewed as failure but as a profound act of devotion.
As we embrace this holiday season, may we find peace—within our homes, our hearts, and in whatever we believe or aspire to believe. Let us enter the new year with compassion for ourselves and an understanding that every journey through faith, grief, love, and healing is unique and worthy of patience.
