Things Fall Together: The Life and Death of Faith on Campus

October 06, 2009 by Timothy Dalrymple

Continued from Page 1

All along, however, I feared the explosive potential of my own mixed motives. What if I wanted to see a religious movement just because I wanted to be a part of something special? What if I enjoyed being the leader a little too much, and all my efforts were less about walking humbly in the footsteps of Christ and more about glorifying myself? I was addicted to accomplishments, eager for esteem -- and so, I thought as I watched the first students heading for the exits, perhaps God was humbling me, or humiliating me, showing me that He is the only true builder. Or perhaps God was not there at all, and this was all an elaborate way of wasting time.

Finally the preacher and worship leader arrived -- and the few students who had departed early would regret it. What followed was an extraordinary event, and one of my most profound experiences of God. It was not the quality of the music (though it was excellent) or the performances (though they were beautiful) or the sermon from Damon Dunn (though it was wise, powerful, and inspiring). It was the simple fact of honoring God together as one. We were young people of all colors and creeds, future philosophers and poets and engineers and computer scientists, people of all kinds and backgrounds; yet on that night our differences dissolved and we were truly and deeply united in loving God. I was on the verge of tears throughout the service, and I was far from alone.

We had planned in advance that we would leave together and pray in the Main Quadrangle, as a way of expressing our commitment to take our love for God and God's children outside the walls of the church. What we had not planned was for the worship team to ask the students to hold hands for the final song. And when I mounted the dais and urged them outside, the students chose to remain holding hands as they moved outside. These long hand-holding lines, like those paper cut-outs in grade school, moved down the center aisle and through the door. Once outside, the lines joined into a large circle in the center of the quadrangle, the center of the university.

I stood in the center of the circle and held a chair as Damon stood atop it to address the students. Together we breathed Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah into the starry night, and Damon prayed. I did not listen to the prayer. I was looking at the students around me, some beloved friends and some I had never met. I felt as though God were present with us, and the weight of that presence broke me. Gratitude had shattered me into a thousand pieces. My heart was hollowed out and filled with thanks, and my faith was deepened in a God who is faithful to meet those who seek Him.

I am deeply thankful for the unity movement amongst the Christian fellowships during my years at Stanford, and I will certainly never forget the experience of God on that beautiful night. It left upon me an indelible mark, a remembrance of God's deliverance and provision, and a strong desire to see God's people united. God was humbling me by throwing our plans into doubt. This happened over and over again in the coming years as we hosted All-Campus Praises and All-Campus Retreats. Each time, just before the event began, everything was thrust to the ledge of disaster, to remind us that God alone holds the future in hand.

Everything, as I strode up and down the center aisle that night, had not been falling apart. Everything had been falling into place. Sometimes our own plans and dreams and even our faith can harden into idols that must be broken apart, so that God can encounter us in ways that overflow our expectations. Our faith, as I learned time and again in my college years, steals victory from the jaws of death. Our faith, like the One in whom it is placed, dies and rises again. Old things fall apart; new things fall together in the grace of God.

This article appears as part of an extended conversation on "The Life and Death of Faith on Campus." Please see the Evangelical Portal for more articles on the same theme.

Timothy Dalrymple is the manager of the Evangelical Portal at Patheos. Educated at Stanford, Oxford, Princeton Theological Seminary, and Harvard, he writes on religion, politics, culture, and faith.

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10/6/2009 4:00:00 AM

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About Timothy Dalrymple

Timothy Dalrymple is the CEO and Chief Creative Officer of Polymath Innovations, a strategic storytelling agency that advances the good with visionary organizations and brands. He leads a unique team of communicators from around North America and across the creative spectrum, serving mission-driven businesses and nonprofits who need a partner to amplify their voice and good works. Once a world-class gymnast whose career ended with a broken neck, Tim channeled his passions for faith and storytelling into his role as VP of Business Development for Patheos, helping to launch and grow the network into the world's largest religion website. He holds a Ph.D. in Religion from Harvard's Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. Tim blogs at Philosophical Fragments.

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