Not a Superstitious Faith

The wild and free God is more than a formula to follow or a Being to control.

Photo by Sable Flow

Today’s letter was inspired by two things: a whiteboard full of words and a Substack essay by a new writer I just found. The whiteboard made me feel uncomfortable, and Alexandria told me why.

I first heard the words “superstitious faith” referring to ways people were using Bible verses out of context at a political gathering. I talked about it in the last issue of Rethinking Faith. I mentioned how in my Christian cult days we used the Bible like a religious Ouija board and expectd god to speak to us. Back then the Bible felt like a book of magic spells—something I could open up at anytime I wanted and get words from god. I didn’t understand things like context, culture, or original author intent. I’d simply been told that it was the alive and active words of god.

I still believe that Scripture is inspired by God. I still believe that it is alive and active. But I no longer think that I can just grab a few English words out of context and declare that God is speaking personally to me about my situation. Does the Holy Spirit use Scripture to encourage me and guide me? Yes, but not superstitiously.

Photo by Aaron Burden

This brings me to the whiteboard. I ran into an online post about a youth group doing an urban missions trip. Before they went out for the day, the young people were encouraged to listen for God’s voice and then list any words or phrases they thought of or heard while listening. A leader recorded those words and phrases on a whiteboard. The phrases and words were anything from “a red shirt” to “cancer” or “a man in a baseball hat.” After the day’s outing, the group would come back and compare their experiences to the words on the whiteboard. At first glance it seems harmless.

This is not the first time I’ve seen something like this. Other groups and organizations that I’m familiar with regularly do something similar. So why was I so bothered? So hesitant? So cynical? Can’t God use words on a whiteboard to show young people His power?

Yes. He can. But.

While I struggled with my negativity and cynicism, I came across this essay by Alexandria Woodward, “What I Wish I Could Tell Myself One Year Ago" and I knew what was wrong with a whiteboard kind of faith.

Alexandria writes about the collapse of her engagement, dreams, a job she loved, and her mental health. (I am reprinting pieces of her essay with her permission, but I’d encourage you to take the time to read the whole thing along with her other work.)

“It felt like the death of me, and in some ways, it was. A chaotic re-placement into fully-aliveness. It felt like a demolition. It was actually a renovation, a re-birth, a new beginning. Sometimes the house has to be gutted so it can be rebuilt. If the foundation is crooked, there is only one way to fix it.

Of course I couldn’t see it that way at the time. All those nice-sounding words about new beginnings sounds terribly cliché to someone still walking through the fire.”

There at the end of everything broken, Alexandria began to discover a Jesus she had never imagined. She writes a letter to her former self in the essay and it’s powerful.

“You needed things to fall apart. It has nothing to do with your worthiness, or your love-ability. That has always been intact, and always will be. You were created to be loved, and that will never change.

There were deep-rooted lies embedded in your heart and infecting your mind, that you could not see. They had to be torn out, so that you could walk authentically in wholeness. This is the brutal kindness of God. He is relentlessly devoted to making you whole. He is in it for the long haul with you, and He isn’t going to give up.”

“This is the brutal kindness of God.”

In past writings I’ve called it His cruel mercy—things that feel SO wrong and yet are ultimately gifts from the good hands of a God who cares more about our wholeness than our comfort. Alexandria continues:

“You are being so gently held in the palm of your Father. He weeps with you. He is not angry with you. He is angry at the abuse with you.

You, seething with rage and drowning in tears, are the one He tenderly cradles in his arms. You, swearing at Him and screaming your lungs out and beating His chest. You are the one He has compassion on, the one with whom He shares His friendship. You were always safe with Him, and you always will be.”

Friends, this is not a predictable, little god who gives us special words to write on a whiteboard. This is not a god who follows our formulas and is controlled by our amount (or lack) of faith. This is a God who is incomprehensible, wild, and free.

This is a God who does things—on purpose—that look terrible to our human eyes because He has a bigger and better plan in mind. Things that we will agree with one day looking back. This is a God who is so big that He doesn’t owe us an explanation. This is a God who is unfazed by our temper tantrums, who weeps with us in our agony, and who is always ready and waiting to lead us home.

He is not containable. We can’t twist His arm. And we can never lose His love.

Photo by Travis Leery

In my opinion, the whiteboard full of words is yet another example of superstitious faith. It’s putting God in a box. It’s expecting Him to bend to our wishes and perform for us. It’s religious magic. But God is SO MUCH bigger than that. The audacity of it all makes me catch my breath. How dare we treat the Creator of the Universe like a little god who must follow our wishes and whims?

I don’t want this essay to be a scathing judgement or condemnation. I want it to be a wake up call. I want to suggest the possibility of something better.

I am concerned about the young people who think that this superstitious, religious magic is all there is to knowing Jesus. Who will doubt their own faith if they can’t hear a word or if their words don’t match up to their experiences. My heart breaks over the young people I know who walked away from God after being disillusioned by the push to experience signs and wonders.

There is so much more of God to be had! He is so much bigger and greater than just a spirit who can give prophetic words (and not all spirits who will perform are good ones). He doesn’t just want to talk to us on whiteboards and in Bible verses we point to out of context. He wants to know us, restore us, and set us free. Listen to these words from Alexandria:

“This tragedy will be your great awakening. You are about to enter into the sprouting, and then the flowering. But first, you are the seed breaking in the ground.

Wholeness does not mean you are never broken. It means you are constantly connected to the only One who can put you back together. You cannot be your own healer. Only Love Himself can make you whole: body, soul and spirit. And yet, you get to participate in your own healing.”

Alexandria and I have both found an amazingly real God who was nothing like we expected and yet everything we’ve ever hoped for. A God who is bigger than our brokenness, freer than formulas, and greater than a superstitious faith.

Life with Him might get messy, it might hurt, it might not be comfortable. But in my experience, it’s worth it. Because while God might not always feel safe, He is incredibly good. His love is tender. And He never gives up. More than anything, I want you to find Him too.

---

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, questions, or comments. You can find me on Threads, Instagram, Facebook, my website, and on my podcast Looking for the Real God. I’d love to connect with you on any of these places!

My podcast, Religious Rebels, can be found on YouTube, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, iHeart Radio, and more. New episodes drop every other Sunday at noon on YouTube and 5pm on Substack and everywhere you listen to podcasts.

You can also order an autographed copy of my book, Religious Rebels: Finding Jesus in the Awkward Middle Way by clicking on the button below. Or you can find it on Amazon.