Faith has sometimes been wrongly characterized as a blind leap in the dark. This is clearly not what Christian faith is about, and it misrepresents what millions of believers have proclaimed and lived out for millennia.
At the same time, faith is not at all a simple thing, something akin to flipping a switch and activating some easy to identify and undeniable reality. No, faith can be hard and challenging, and it certainly ventures, on many occasions, into the dark.
Faith, or so it seems to me, involves a combination of identifiable realities along side of some rather difficult to locate ones. The identifiable factors include the belief in, the presupposition or commitment to, the God of Christian orthodoxy. He, we believe, is the God revealed in the Old and New Testament Scriptures, the One who actually visited our planet in order to rescue us and give us life, and he is with us still. We can know certain things about his character and demands, and we are given various assurances that he is working on our behalf to bless us and lead us to our ultimate good.
Still, this faith, these pieces of orthodox belief, must be taken into the world. There, as we all know, we encounter a whole lot that is difficult to decipher and manage, and there we must–if indeed we are to exude faith at all–to take our faith, which at times seems so clear and undeniable, into the fuzzy and undefined places of daily living.
Faith, one writer says, is the evidence of things not seen. What a great definition! Yes, we see or know or feel certain things, but we are also–by the nature of the case–compelled to enact our faith by believing in that which we cannot currently see. It’s not that we don’t ever have confidence in these unseen realities, for sometimes (often?) we do. But in the real world we are forced to act on these principles, calling on the realm of the invisible, trusting in a God we cannot see and often do not understand. This is faith.
As we venture into the world, as we encounter people, relationships, and situations that are often unpredictable, we must somehow learn to trust that God is worthy of our faith and worship. We must accept that, even when we don’t see it or “get” it, God knows what he’s “up to,” and he’s always “up to” that which is for our ultimate (not necessarily immediate) benefit.
Faith travels around corners with who knows what on the other side. Faith trusts that the truths we know are real and will win the day even when the opposite seems to be the case for now. Faith holds onto the ever-present Lord even when we have little or no idea where he’s leading us.
Faith, then, is a type of following, an ongoing and always needed effort to walk with God, a very personal (because it involves persons–God and people) endeavor, a determination to remain faithful and close to the One who long ago said, “Follow Me.”
“Lord, enable me (us) to follow, and show me (us) that this is good and right . . . and that it actually works. Lord, increase my (our) faith, and help me (us) to remain confidently and joyfully faithful to the Way.”
At the same time, faith is not at all a simple thing, something akin to flipping a switch and activating some easy to identify and undeniable reality. No, faith can be hard and challenging, and it certainly ventures, on many occasions, into the dark.
Faith, or so it seems to me, involves a combination of identifiable realities along side of some rather difficult to locate ones. The identifiable factors include the belief in, the presupposition or commitment to, the God of Christian orthodoxy. He, we believe, is the God revealed in the Old and New Testament Scriptures, the One who actually visited our planet in order to rescue us and give us life, and he is with us still. We can know certain things about his character and demands, and we are given various assurances that he is working on our behalf to bless us and lead us to our ultimate good.
Still, this faith, these pieces of orthodox belief, must be taken into the world. There, as we all know, we encounter a whole lot that is difficult to decipher and manage, and there we must–if indeed we are to exude faith at all–to take our faith, which at times seems so clear and undeniable, into the fuzzy and undefined places of daily living.
Faith, one writer says, is the evidence of things not seen. What a great definition! Yes, we see or know or feel certain things, but we are also–by the nature of the case–compelled to enact our faith by believing in that which we cannot currently see. It’s not that we don’t ever have confidence in these unseen realities, for sometimes (often?) we do. But in the real world we are forced to act on these principles, calling on the realm of the invisible, trusting in a God we cannot see and often do not understand. This is faith.
As we venture into the world, as we encounter people, relationships, and situations that are often unpredictable, we must somehow learn to trust that God is worthy of our faith and worship. We must accept that, even when we don’t see it or “get” it, God knows what he’s “up to,” and he’s always “up to” that which is for our ultimate (not necessarily immediate) benefit.
Faith travels around corners with who knows what on the other side. Faith trusts that the truths we know are real and will win the day even when the opposite seems to be the case for now. Faith holds onto the ever-present Lord even when we have little or no idea where he’s leading us.
Faith, then, is a type of following, an ongoing and always needed effort to walk with God, a very personal (because it involves persons–God and people) endeavor, a determination to remain faithful and close to the One who long ago said, “Follow Me.”
“Lord, enable me (us) to follow, and show me (us) that this is good and right . . . and that it actually works. Lord, increase my (our) faith, and help me (us) to remain confidently and joyfully faithful to the Way.”