Faith as activity

Faith as described in the Bible is an activity, not knowledge. Faith is faith in, and faith to and faith from (since faith is a mutual activity). Strange, in our society “faith” is very much about what we believe, rather than what we do – perhaps that is part of the problem! James describes faith as something which permeates our lives and leads inevitably to action, so much so that if we have no actions he regards our faith as dead! Now that’s challenging stuff! And yet, other parts of the Bible agree: out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks. (Mat 12:34) So perhaps it is not the Bible which has a skewed view of faith…

Romans Ch 3 is an assurance of forgiveness, which follows on from assurances of the justice of the law. I often think it is strange how we want both – we want justice and for the world to be fair, but we also want mercy for ourselves. Part of Jesus’ great appeal is his lack of condemnation for people generally – those who came sick, hurting, sinning, he helped and healed them all. Jesus is the great merciful healer, merciful judge and the one who forgives sins. Why then is the church so often seen as judgemental? In the common view, the church more closely resembles the Pharisees than Jesus! It is so sad – we must have gone terribly wrong somewhere. If we had Jesus’ heart, we should be known by our love, not our ability to point the finger!

Romans 3:27 says “Where then, is boasting?” but today we were talking about the other besetting sins of our generation which are equally forgiven and passed over by God: Where then is guilt? Where then is performance pressure? Where then is insecurity, fear, the need to establish rules and make others follow them?

I am reminded of an old saying about Sunday School, but at applies here too, rather trite, but true then as well as now: The answer is always “Jesus”.

An interesting quote emailed to me yesterday:

We do not segment our lives, giving some time to God, some to our business or schooling, while keeping parts to ourselves. The idea is to live all of our lives in the presence of God, under the authority of God, and for the honor and glory of God. That is what the Christian life is all about. (R. C. Sproul)

This is what I would like to be, and what I imagine the truly holy life is like in the "incarnational" tradition. This is also what I find incredibly difficult - it seems I surrender one portion of my life, only to realize that another is terribly lacking - a bit like painting the Sydney Harbour Bridge, I no sooner finish and I am due to start again somewhere else!

How often do I sit down to think about some "private time" or time set aside for God, only to get grumpy and out of sorts because I am called to do something else? If only I could realize that ALL "my" time is God's time, to use or lay aside as He chooses. (Being used is one thing, being laid aside something even more challenging!)

Yesterday, I agreed to work for Rachel so that she could minister at her church. Fair enough. So why then, when the work was busy, did I feel cheated? Like I somehow expected the work to be easier because I volunteered for it? I have been in the business long enough to know that the work comes as it will and not as we would have it! At the end of the day I was tired (fair enough) but why resentful as well? Why cross because Rachel had a good day? That was the reason I worked - I should have been glad!

Obviously I still have some work to do in the area of giving cheerfully...

The Orthodox Way

This is a great book by Bishop Kallistos Ware, on Greek Orthodoxy by a convert to it. There are lots of great quotes and general advice for living drawn from the Orthodox tradition. Strangely enough, this is a very grace-ful tradition (not at all what I expected) with insights into the human condition which only come from deep thought and long observation:

Faith is not the supposition that something might be true, but the assurance that someone is there. For faith implies not complacency but taking risks, not shutting ourselves off from the unknown but advancing boldly to meet it.

Between belief that and belief in there is a crucial distinction.

Because this personal relationship is as yet very incomplete in each of us and needs continually to develop further, it is by no means impossible for faith to coexist with doubt.

This is not at all what I expected to hear from an Orthodox bishop! For some reason I had expected a very hidebound, rigid, pedantic approach. Of course (as any good observer of human nature should be) the creed is grace-ful, allowing for human frailty and confusion. In fact, there is more acknowledgement of the limitations of human understanding than is usually found in the Western tradition (especially the Protestant tradition) with its emphasis on cerebral understanding. There is much of value and beauty in "The Way", as he calls it.

Certainty/Uncertainty

I have just finished reading a fiction series about a family who all convert to Christianity at a rate of one per book. It was a nice, easy read - I guess the literary equivalent of "easy listening" music. The books were fairly simplistic, in that each addressed one particular issue a person might have with God, solved it, and then the person became a Christian. If only it were so!

Thinking about my own journey, I come back to the simplicity-complexity diagram in a different form: that of certainty/uncertainty. I wondered if God existed, if He was powerful to do anything and if He was interested in me. He proved to me that He is all these things: certainty. I then wondered if He would answer all my prayers - He would not: uncertainty. I wondered if He cared about my family and husband as I do - His Word says yes: certainty. I prayed for all of their salvation, but they are not yet saved: uncertainty. I fell back on the certainty of my own salvation, only to hear that perhaps there is no heaven: uncertainty again. Now the knowledge of heaven is replaced with a better concept of eternity with God: certainty, but for how long?

I am thinking more and more about Olivia's comments about a "hidden God" and not just for those seeking Him for the first time. I think He deliberately hides and reveals Himself to all of us; keeping us always in the area of faith but not full knowledge, trust without certain predictability, some understanding without complete understanding. It is as if He takes His hand away as we walk more surely, and steadies us when we falter, only to remove His hand again so that we walk ourselves as much as we can. (CS Lewis uses this metaphor, and I find it very apt.)

This must be a necessary process if we are to grow, so it is not surprising that it is a lifelong journey (struggle?) to know and trust God. The more we know and trust, the more we are given to know and our certainties are taken away to build our trust higher and stronger. I remember a minister saying that he was praying for protection when he suddenly realized that eleven of the disciples died as martyrs, and that the whole of Christian history is filled with people laying down their lives for God and each other. If it could happen to them, it could certainly happen to him! In the midst of this increased pressure, he nevertheless gave his life to God, to use to take away according to His will. Lewis called it "walking with God from good to good" in Perelandra - He takes us from one good thing to another, if we will but let Him lead.

If this is true, a Christian should expect to spend her whole life seeking to know God better, swimming ever deeper in the pool of theology without ever touching the bottom. She should be always striving (struggling?) to know God more and trust in His ways, and as her trust increases it should be increasingly tested, refined and made to grow stronger and surer. The normal Christian life should thus be one of trials and growth - a fearsome and yet attractive idea! I like the idea that God is always shaping me, even if it is difficult, and that He is the one which has no end, even in eternity. CS Lewis (again) describes it as a story which has no end, and in which each chapter is better than the one before. Amen - so let it be!

Easter Sunday

Today is Easter Sunday - Christ is risen! Today I noticed the difference it makes to go from fast to feast. The contrast highlights the value of each, and I thought it is good of God to arrange it so that everyone gets to experience both. Those of us in rich countries experience fasting (even if it is only voluntary and temporary) and those with nothing else can celebrate what God has done. I think most people would agree that it is good for us to be reminded of the two states, especially if we dwell most of the time in only one.

Similarly, I wonder if it is good for us to experience change and seasons in our lives - to go through some hardship to give the celebrations more savour? It is easy to accept this theoretically and philosophically, but when it comes down to the point I know my first response is always "Why God?" I suppose the answer, at least some of the time, will be "Because it is good for you."

Maundy Thursday

Last night was Maundy Thursday, with the traditional "dark" Tenebrae service reflecting on the shadow falling over he disciples in the lead-up to Good Friday. I found myself thinking a lot about the disciples - Peter and John in particular. Peter was called "the rock" by Jesus, even knowing that he would deny Jesus when put to the question. Jesus foretold not only Peter's betrayal, but also Peter's return and that he would be an ongoing leader in the church and source of strength for those around him and those who would follow.

This year we have been looking in particular at John's Gospel, with its themes of light and darkness and God's eternal forgiveness and love. This was particularly suited to the service last night, with the progressive dousing of the light as the service progressed through Jesus' arrest and trial, Peter's betrayal and the rejection of the community and the condemnation of Pilate.

By the end of the service, it was raining and the wind was howling outside - perhaps a cliché, but atmospheric nonetheless. As we left the Carey chapel for the last time, resetting the chairs and taking everything with us, it really was a journey of saying farewell. We stripped the church and took even the doused candles with us, locked the doors and left silently, one at a time into the rain and darkness outside.

This experience really brought home to me the lost-ness, the lack of centre, the destruction of hope and the uncertainty that the disciples would have felt (albeit on a smaller scale). It also brought to mind the persecuted church, and those who have to gather in secret and leave in silence. Holy Spirit comfort and sustain them!

Accepting our Powerlessness

This is (I think) one of the most unpalatable facts about Christianity. That we are here because God created us, that we are as we are because God made us that way. That we are given grace (and enabled to accept it) by God's grace and through His work we are cleansed and made acceptable. Nothing for us to be proud of, no great "self-made men". The only work we have to do is to accept, to cooperate, and to be witnesses. These works are difficult enough that we can only do them with God's help anyway. In everything we are commanded to ask God in prayer, to seek His guidance and empowering through the Holy Spirit, to accept and do His will. I wonder if this is why men seem to have more trouble with faith than women? Maybe it is harder for the self-image of a man to submit than it is for a woman.

On the other hand, there is something restful and freeing about it all. Certainly feeling responsible for everything (especially the salvation of others) is an intolerable burden. Also the fact that we fail at all our self-appointed responsibilities - if we truly were solely responsible there would be no-one to turn to when it all goes pear-shaped.

God in His heaven and all right with the world - there is a certain reassuring inevitability about that.