I was born into a believing home, where I grew up with my siblings. At a young age, I was attracted to competitive sports and entertainment. There was no longer any desire to listen to the Word of God. The voice of conscience in my heart diminished little by little, and matters of faith became cheap and meaningless. I began to dispute first the way believers read the Bible, then the place of the Bible as a whole alongside the sacred writings of other religions. What if man is inherently good, not sinful and fallible, as the believers taught in the light of the Bible?
Yoga philosophy filled the lack of spirituality
When I was expecting our first child, I started mommy yoga a few blocks from our house. Some of the yoga classes felt like relaxed gymnastics, but there were instructors with a strong yoga philosophy based on Eastern religions. Through listening to oneself and one’s own body sensations, a comfortable basis was built, at first, for accepting oneself as one is, and then for becoming a better and better experiencer, knower and master of oneself and one’s own life in the control of the energy of the universe.
I began to regularly attend classes along the most philosophical lines. Something inside me warned of the falsity of it all, but I continued to join the rest of the group in reciting long mantras alongside the gymnastic movements. We discussed with our instructor the content and meaning of the mantras. She explained that they are used to focus and, on a deeper level, to invoke, for example, nature spirits to support the development of one’s own consciousness. Many of the mantras were the names of those spirits. This thinking was completely at odds with the Christian doctrine of the Bible.
When my family and I moved to the Far East, I sought out the contact details of several yoga communities. I contacted them with the firm intention of becoming a better person and gaining more and more clarity about the problem of being in the world. I found a group where the monthly fees were high, but everyone was welcome to join the ‘path of light’. I read a lot of literature on the “path of spiritual development” found in yoga halls, where authors described a wide variety of connections with the spirit world. I became increasingly superstitious about various aspects of everyday life.
Awakening
Suddenly, I found myself confronted with the contradiction that my moral concept was no longer based on the good of my fellow human beings. All that literature advised us to listen to the voice of our “infallible selves” from within. The contradiction was confusing in many situations. I began to look critically at my path. The shared euphoria of the yoga class always disappeared at the end of the practice, and no one seemed to have anything to say to each other. What was the love that was named as the driving force of this path?
I discussed with various “gurus” the meaning of life and the emptiness I experienced. Each of them said that there is no answer, but that “you have to create your own truth and learn to tolerate uncertainty”. It was then that I remembered the amazing love I had experienced as a child among believers. If only I could throw myself into being one of those small, childish people who were not trying to find anything of their own, I wondered.
What if the Bible is true?
I started reading the Bible. It said in several places about the way of God’s mind that it is hidden from the world. The road to perdition was said to be wide, and many people were said to walk it. “But the gate is narrow, and the way is a gate of life,” I read the words of Jesus in the New Testament.
Paul’s letters touched me. They contained the same love and teaching I had experienced as a child. There seemed to be a more solid foundation than man for all the rushing and scurrying. A world created and sustained by God, a path marked out by God’s love, to which each of us was called.
The only thing required of man was to humble himself to accept that ready reconciliation. “I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come to him, and we will eat together, I and he,” said Jesus. (Revelation 3:20) Heavenly Father, if it is your will, lead me into your kingdom, show me the way to your house, I prayed. You have promised that the seeker will find and the door will be opened for the one who knocks. Show me that it is true.
Faith is personal
I had long wondered why I couldn’t have faith when my spouse didn’t either. He certainly wouldn’t like it. One evening, as I was painfully thinking about this, I felt like picking up the Bible. I opened it up and began to read a passage that told of a great crowd following a miracle speaking, miracle working Jesus. Jesus said to them, “If anyone comes to me and is not willing to give up his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. He who does not bear his cross and walk in my steps cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26-27).
Through those words of Jesus, I was assured that faith is a personal matter. I thought, however, that I did not need to think much about my own transgressions, nor to humble myself to repentance. God saw my sins and had promised to forgive them. From here on, just like this, quietly, I thought. I felt consistently pale and longing. I always forgot God in those times when life smiled, and when I faced sorrow, when I ran out of other means, I called on Him in prayer.
“I am in their midst”
Jesus’ words: “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them” (Matthew 18:20), and also the close fellowship of believers, often found in Paul’s letters, still spoke to me. I was reminded of a moment in my home church a few years ago, a moment I had unwittingly found myself in.
I usually avoided those situations in one way or another. At the time, I was spending Sunday with my believing siblings. At the next hour, they turned on the computer and settled down together to listen to the sermons. I felt uncomfortable and retreated to another room. In the small apartment, sound traveled freely from room to room, and involuntarily I could hear the accompaniment in the room I was in.
I was impressed by the humility and reverence with which the speaker read the Bible text. And how those people at the church and by the computers were really living it, blessing each other and singing together with all their hearts. They had a wonderful, safe and holy connection with each other, not only in their everyday lives, of which I felt I was missing out.
I was also reminded of the many local train journeys I made when I was a student in Helsinki. On weekends, when I travelled towards Helsinki, the train’s vestibule at a station was filled with faithful passengers who had left the train. With their cheerful, somehow calm and natural appearance, they were a powerfully appealing sight. I thought they were as beautiful as a field of flowers. There was God’s field. As the train continued on its journey, it always seemed as if it had somehow rattled forward.
To share in God’s love
I longed to share in the living faith, but the narrow gate of repentance, how narrow it seemed! Quite impossible for me to dare, to dare, to humble myself. Opportunities to repent came and went, and I always prayed to God afterwards to give me the strength to do that seemingly impossible thing.
Finally, the strength came. On a weekday in the spring, I called my mother and asked her to come over. As the doorbell rang, I prayed for strength from God, that now I could finally open my mouth about matters of faith. When the door opened, I had only one question. I wanted to ask forgiveness for my unbelief and all my sins. My mother was to serve as a priest of the Holy Spirit, entrusted to every believer, and bring greetings from heaven by preaching to her prodigal daughter the forgiveness of all sins in the name of Jesus and in the Atonement. Oh how good it was! The seeker was allowed to find, and the one who knocked had the door opened to her. I almost felt like I was floating off the ground as I picked up our son from daycare on that very ordinary day.
The Gospel of Luke says, “So also, I tell you, the angels of God rejoice over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10). At the church we cry tears of joy with believers, known and unknown, who have never been there before. “Keep love among yourselves. By this you will be known as my disciples.” Such love and compassion, such joy, I could never have imagined.
Author: Elina