Faith Journeys and Testimonies
I was filling out an application recently and was asked to write a short statement on my “personal faith pilgrimage.” I grew up in the Christian world, and so have had to write out my testimony dozens of times. But this wasn’t asking for my testimony, but for the story of my faith pilgrimage. On one hand it might be easy to assume that they are one and the same, but the difference in terminology between “faith pilgrimage” and “testimony” intrigued me and got me thinking about how even how the question gets asked influences how our story gets told. I realized that not just my story itself, but how I tell my faith story has changed over the years.
Out of sheer curiosity, I went through the archives on my computer and read through testimonies I had written in the past. These were my faith stories as I had written them to apply to Wheaton College Grad School, to work at a Baptist church, and to serve as a church-planter (and no, I will not be posting them here). Each of these focused on two main events in my life – when at the age of three I prayed to ask Jesus to come into my heart and my decision at age 12 to “make my faith my own.” Other themes – feeling the need to tell others about Jesus and the rollercoaster emotions of feeling close to Jesus – supported these two primary events. That decision of where I was going when I died and my choice to stay in the church were what I knew those reading my story wanted to hear – they were what I believed to be the most important moments in my faith history.
But these days I find it uncomfortable to be asked to tell of the moment I became a Christian. I don’t believe that some magical transaction occurred on Oct. 17, 1981 as I sat on my dad’s lap and repeated a few words after him. Before that moment I had believed like any child in what I had been told about Jesus, saying that prayer was simply part of my formative journey as a believer. Similarly, I no longer talk about my faith in terms of certainty regarding where I will go when I die. I was recently told that a local church in its membership interviews asks the question “if you died tonight how certain are you of where you will go?” The response they are looking for to allow people to continue in the membership process is “100% certain I will go to heaven.” Those that reply otherwise are unknowingly streamed into a Christianity 101 class instead of the membership class. My response to this (even ignoring the whole question of if we go to heaven or if as the Bible says are resurrected to the new earth) is to ask what is the role of faith if certainty is what is required. These terms of “moments of decision” and “certainty” are no longer part of my lexicon as I tell my faith story.
These days my testimony is less an argument written to prove to others that I have jumped through the right hoops it takes to be a Christian, and more of a travel narrative of my faith pilgrimage. My story has changed, my narrative style has changed, and even what I call it has changed. I know I have not arrived at anything, I value faith far more than certainty, and what I believe is no more important than how I live out that belief. My story encompasses those changes and embraces my questions and doubts as simply being an authentic part of my journey as opposed to evidence that could be used against me in determining if I am in or out. I am still on this journey, even as I tell of its twists and turns. What I learn along the way and terrain I am traversing at the moment as I follow Jesus matter just as much as any particular moment along the way. My story has become more of an epic adventure as opposed to a persuasive essay.
julieclawson(at)gmail(dot)com 
Interesting. When I first saw the question implied by the first part of your post (what's the difference between a faith journey and a testimony?), I had a certain idea in my head, but your "answer" ended up being about something else entirely.
So, rather than comment on your (perfectly valid) points here, I'd like to ask the question that came my own mind: How does your story (whatever word or term you choose to describe it) detail what God has done in your life, as opposed to what decisions you've made re: God while on that life's path?
I love where you are headed with this.
I like to view my journey against the backdrop of the Exodus story: I was in a pit of despair. I groaned. Jesus hauled my ass out of the there and saved me. I got as far as the Red Sea before I got tired and returned to slavery in Egypt. Sometime later, I groaned again and Jesus once again reached down into the pit and delivered me. This time I got as far as the desert where Jesus was preparing to equip me, test me, and give me my marching orders. Maybe I ate a bad batch of day-old manna or something, but somehow I ended up back in Egypt where the pomegranates were fresh and tasty. Now, this third time, I have left Egypt behind for good. I am allowing myself to be tested and equipped. I have been given teeny tiny marching orders, have faithfully acted on them, and have seen His redemptive power trickle through me.
I can’t wait for my next assignment. I can’t wait for the valves in this branch of the vine to be thrown wide open gushing His love, His light, into the darkest corners of the world around me. I am sooo ready to blossom and bear fruit (mixed metaphors are OK in blog post comments, right?).
I am feeling sorry for the ones who have pulled up comfy lawn chairs along Salvation Road and are content with watching the parade and knowing for certain that they are going to end up in Heaven anyway. I feel sorry for those who have never experienced the Joy that comes from working arm-in-arm with our Creator, doing His will, doing His redemptive work in Creation – and receiving real, tangible, blessings in return.
I think a much more meaningful question is, “Why are you a Christian?” And if someone answers, “So that when I die I can go to Heaven,” then we need to pray for them – for they might be stuck in the mud back at the Red Sea. And if they are stuck there, we will never get them across the Jordan before they die.
I love Jim's comment, perhaps we SHOULD ask peoplen, and ourselves “Why are you a Christian?” The thought will come up eventually for everyone, so we might as well talk about it as a faith community pre-emtively. If the community can be a safe space where one can be brutally honest…
Great essay. Our personal walk with the Lord has become used by the established church and political forces to promote world views and even government policies. The rhetorics of the Mark Mclaren's or those who ridicule or defend social justice as a litmus test of having that walk with our Lord compel us to act in their best interest politically is just wrong.
Thank you for this . Reminds me a bit of the book of Romans and the teaching it is not by the law we are saved and reconciled with Christ.
I really like what you have written. For many years I have considered it extremely odd that people will get up in church gatherings and tell about one moment in time, often decades ago when asked to give a testimony. It gets me wondering whether God has done anything else of note in their lives. The point at which someone consciously decides that they want to be a Christian ought to be the beginning of a journey with many noteworthy happenings along the way – the Christian faith pilgrimage – not the only thing worth talking about.
Often, the other way that people talk about God working in their lives is "what God did this week" and so often it's so mundane and trivial – found lost car keys, found a parking spot, sent along just enough petrol (gas) to get to the petrol (gas) station – the need for which could have been avoided with just a little more organisation. Why don't we hear about the big markers along the way – the support through trauma and tragedy, the credit for major joys and successes? Why do we have to domesticate the creator of the universe?
I've always hated that question. I find it offensive and naive.
(BTW – y'all don't know me here, and this is late, but I'm an occasional reader. Oh, and I do know of some of you.)
It's not an event or one-time incident. Yeah, I could pinpoint about 5-10 key turning points, but those don't make me a Christian. I'd rather point to phases, usually about 1-3 years at a time, where I grew / understood / changed / experienced God in new / different/ deeper ways. And honestly, that's not a paragraph or two – that's my whole life story. Even then, those are more about what God was doing and less about how *I* became a Christian.
You know what I dread more though? When people ask that question aloud. I'm not sure what answer they're looking for, but many people ask as soon as they find out I'm Christian. It's like we're the "in" group, and that's the secret handshake – you're moment of "getting in" to heaven.
Personally, I hope to find the "perfect" answer one day…. and it won't be "I prayed a prayer to ask Jesus into my heart" when I was 8 or 11 or 19.
@ Judy – I fully agree about the long ago or trivial testimonies. I think the key is changing the question. Maybe, "What's the greatest manifestation of God's power (or work in your life, or love, or grace, or even presence) in the past year or two?" Bad answers often come from bad questions.