Sara Merican | Having faith at Penn

On many walks back to my college house at night, I often look up at the moon, and ponder the beauty of its iridescence. The moon, hanging like a glowing orb from the star-sprinkled carpet of the night sky, is a reassuring, constant presence, even in its many phases. It is that one moment in each hectic day here when I gaze at the sky and contemplate something above the madness. 

In a way, I see a connection between these contemplations of the moon and my inclinations toward religion. Looking up at the moon, no matter what I was dealing with at Penn, gave me a sense of perspective on life. Similarly, looking up toward God, no matter how messy my life here got, constantly centered and renewed me.

Reflecting on every “crisis” I’ve experienced at Penn, I’ve realized that each “crisis” was ultimately a crisis of meaning. Whether it was a conflict with a friend, lukewarm feedback from a professor, growing to dislike a subject I thought I would major in, social insecurities, a bad grade, or just the uninvited feeling of emptiness that visited most unexpectedly in the quiet morning or lonely evening — all these fundamentally challenged what I had thought gave my life meaning.

Each crisis wasn’t a crisis because of what it was about, but what it was. What was I afraid of losing? What did I value? Who am I really, without all these things? These moments often made me feel disoriented, lost, confused, anxious. 

Throughout our lives, we construct paradigms of meaning for ourselves, like being smart, being good at sports, being recognized as a leader or being a good friend — which honestly hold up well. For a while. But every now and then, whether it is in 20 days or 20 years, these paradigms of meaning suddenly collapse and disintegrate before our eyes. 

One day you are at the top of your high school chemistry class, the next day you are failing Orgo in college. One day you are president of the business club in your high school, and the next day, you are facing four rounds of interviews and an 8.5 percent admit rate for a consulting club in college. One day you are in love, the next day you fall out of it. One day you’re the life of the party and the next day, you’re that person standing in the corner, awkwardly making eye contact with anyone who looks in your direction. 

We soon realize that these paradigms of meaning that we construct for ourselves are not stable. We go to college, move to a new city or experience a setback and suddenly, these paradigms of meaning start to crumble. Are we meant to always be building and rebuilding these castles of meaning throughout our lives? Or is there a source of meaning out there that holds true, no matter the circumstance?

One of my favorite lines from a hymn goes, “Turn your eyes upon Jesus / Look full in His wonderful face / And the things of earth will grow strangely dim / In the light of His glory and grace.” 

And one of my favorite verses comes Matthew 6:19-21 in the Bible, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” 

Christianity for me was not the end to the search for meaning, but rather, something that pointed me to where I should search. The quotes above remind me that any earthly, self-constructed paradigm of meaning will ultimately fail, as it has often in my life — but a heavenly, eternal one will hold fast no matter life’s trials and tribulations. 

My Christian faith encourages me now to live in a way that seems to be radically different from my “old life” and old paradigms of meaning. Where there was a constant struggle to attain and achieve, the Christian faith assured me that there was no longer a need to; where there was a constant desire for the approval and applause of others, the Christian faith assured me that I was already accepted without condition.

Where I searched for something that spoke deeper than the readings I was studying for English class, or philosophy, the Christian faith whispered a life-giving, profound truth; where I struggled to get past the small talk to real conversations, the Christian faith assured me there was a God who understood the deepest, most desperate desires of my heart; where I struggled to “fit in” at Penn, the Christian faith blessed me with a community of loving, open-hearted people, no matter how very imperfect we are. 

This week is a particularly meaningful one for the Christian community, as it leads up to Easter Sunday. Easter is a time for me to remember key events in Christianity, but also a time when I also experience the joy of sharing this important part of my life with friends curious about the faith.

SARA MERICAN is a College sophomore from Singapore, studying English and cinema studies. Her email address is smerican@sas.upenn.edu.