As you will hear at the beginning of this episode, my relationship with Desi was born out of pain - pain that I inflicted on him as a overly zealous young man at a church judo club (yes, that was a thing). It was there that I began to realize Desi’s ability to process suffering and soon we began a friendship where the topic of suffering was very much at the forefront of our discussions.
You see, I had begun to have serious questions in my faith journey, and truthfully I still do. I think that’s okay. Even though my questions are heavy and real, my ability to process them, seek answers, and be transformed by the journey has also developed.
Desi was a huge part of that. One day I sat at his table, eaten up inside with doubt and confusion and finally I just kind of broke. I am not ashamed to admit that I cried as I walked through a piece of paper I had written on with all of the reasons I could think of to stay a Christian, become an atheist, or land on agnosticism somewhere in the middle. I had thought, as those struggling with doubt often do, that my very utterance of the things about God, life, and the Bible that didn’t make sense to me would be enough to cause the complete destruction of my social world.
It wasn’t true. Not even close. Desi and his wonderful wife, Rachel, sat there with me as I cried and vented about how the suffering of the world didn’t align with a God who was loving and all powerful, and how a lack of consistent healings resulting from prayer went against the Bible we all claimed to believe in. They listened as I unpacked how terrified I was to express these doubts and others to my family and friends. After all, I was a leader in the Church and everyone would certainly all be very disappointed in me, at minimum, and shun me, at the worst, if they knew how I was thinking.
I also unpacked how my father (who I love deeply and am partnering with behind the scenes as part of this very podcast) had once told me that God had given him a promise that not only would his kids serve the Lord, but also his children’s children. My father shared this with me, not to be inconsiderate, but because he was trying to share something very comforting he had experienced with those around him.
The effect for me, however, (at least in the short-term) was a dramatic increase in the sense of “pressure” I felt to mentally conform to what I had been taught. I mean, how are you supposed to tell your dad, who you love deeply, that you were considering atheism, after he just told you about this promise he received from God?
Desi was a safe space for me and, as I grew into adulthood, he walked with me through the many deserts and wildernesses I encountered early in my faith journey. He was in the middle of getting a Master’s degree in theology himself, and so the state of current Biblical scholarship and angles I had not yet considered were fresh in his mind. Yet, despite all his knowledge, he didn’t talk over or down to me.
He listened. Deeply and intently. He didn’t interrupt or insist that use gentler language to describe what I saw as the idiocy of certain beliefs or church practices. He just listened and asked me to questions to get me to fully express myself and bring my doubts into the light. When it came time to push back or teach, he did, and we certainly had many intense moments, but the overall result of our conversations wasn’t so much of radical certainty in the beliefs I had been considering casting off, but rather of being validated, seen, and invited into a deeper journey of faith than I previously knew existed.
I believe God ordained our friendship and I will never forget those days out in the sun, working with Desi on clearing brush, building fences, and make sense out of things like textual variants, competing atonement theories, and why God allows certain things to happen.
I hope you enjoy this one conversation with Desi as much as I have been able to enjoy the many the Lord has allowed me to have with him.
With love,
Nathan Marlette
