What I Got from Church: Narrative Postfoundationalism
Yesterday morning at church, a lady named Agnes shared her testimony. Here’s a recap: over five years ago Agnes was diagnosed with a terminal form of cancer and given only a few months to live. Despite many low points and a living memorial service, she has continued, not only to survive, but to be a vibrant member of our community. She is involved with the church choir, senior adults, and small groups. She acknowledges the prognosis given by her doctor, but she said because of letters and calls and support from the community she continues to live.
After the testimony, our pastor said something along the lines of “facts are facts, but truth is truth.” This seemed to provide a excellent recap of what Agnes was saying. Both Agnes and the pastor understand that Agnes is dying, but also they both understand that her existence isn’t mediated by either a medical test or a medical professional. Her life is defined by neither her terminal illness nor by denial of it. In the most literal way possible, Agnes’ life is grounded in her community, her church.
To make my point, there wasn’t talk that Agnes needed to “claim her healing.” No one said that she needed more faith to overcome her sickness or that she needed to repent of some sin. In bonds of community, Agnes finds hope and support and love which, despite what her doctor says, continues to bring her life.
Too often I’ve been to church and heard sermons on “the truth,” as if there’s some objective reality we all need to believe. Or it’s like there is a set of absolute principles out there that everyone should buy into. But what happened on Sunday morning was a clear rejection of that. Truth, in this case, is a practice of living in community. Literally living. And this truth didn’t rest on propositions or authority or facts. This truth resides in the loving arms, in the continued prayers, in the meal-time fellowship of members of our church.
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