...from the Ashland (KY) Daily Independent.

"There is hope for faith yet" by John Clarke

Last week was the 30th anniversary of the wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald on Lake Superior. There were 29 souls aboard her.

The shipwreck inspired Gordon Lightfoot to write a song about her called "The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald."

I love the sea and I love sailboats. I've had the opportunity to sail in about eight and even was allowed to take the helm for a while aboard a schooner on Puget Sound.

Each time aboard a sailboat was a magical experience. After purring out to sea there comes the moment when the sails are raised, the motor is shut down, and, aside from the occasional sound of the line whipping against the mast, it suddenly becomes conspicuously quiet.

But as much as I love the sea, I can imagine no greater fear than being held captive in a vessel in 30-foot waves and a bone freezing spray blinding my eyes and awakening the fear of my own mortality.

There is a line in Gordon Lightfoot's song that says, "Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours?" My agnostic friends have often used this argument to defend their position. They ask, "How can a loving God allow bad things to happen?"

My argument in return is that free will is no gift. It is a burden that carries terrible responsibility and consequences. I somehow feel that the granting of this free will is very much like that of a parent letting go of a child.

As my father slipped away from me, I made a deathbed promise that I would seek faith. Little did I know the burden of that promise.

I have no difficulty in seeing the hand of God all around me. I feel his presence in the stars and in the wind, I hear his voice in the whispering pines along the lake, I witnessed his majesty during the birth of my two sons.

I have no difficulty in belief. I just can't seem to find faith. I have attended Protestant churches off and on for my entire life and have studied the Bible, as well as the history of the Bible. Best I can tell, Jesus was all about love, acceptance, and forgiveness. If the goal of organized Christianity is to become more like him, I see little evidence of it. I cannot see the good works of the Church because I am blinded by hypocrisy.

The Protestants have Robert Shuller in a scuffle on an airplane, Jimmy Swaggart and Jim Bakker's indiscretions, and more recently, the apparent insanity of Pat Robertson's call for the assassination of the Venezuelan leader.

The Catholic Church is plagued by its own troubles of priests molesting children.

Whereas Jesus accepted the whores, the lepers, the children, the tax collectors and almost anyone else, Christianity so often seeks to exclude. They exclude people from communion who do not share their own beliefs. They also exclude homosexuals and sometimes couples who have been divorced. It seems as though organized religions ponder more on whom to exclude than to include. As far as forgiveness and acceptance, I can't see it.

But the most unsettling thing by far is how so often churchgoers abandon their humanity in return for church doctrine. They would rather convert a soul to their faith than feed a hungry person. They would rather goad their children into their spiritual life than have a frank discussion with them about contraception or drugs.

I drive around our area and see millions of dollars worth of church buildings, parsonages and vehicles, and wonder how much goes from these churches to help the poor, the tsunami or hurricane victims. One church had a flashing sign that said, "Anyone can honk. Tithe if you love Jesus." They had a nice building, too.

My mother would say that I should place my faith in God and not in people. Little wonder Jesus talked about faith the size of a mustard seed. I was beginning to think faith is like chicken's teeth: a rare commodity.

But then, on a dark moonless night, as I was walking down the drive to my mother's home, I spied her through the lighted window. Before retiring to her lonely bed, I saw her kneel in prayer.

There is hope for faith yet.