Living faith

Our faith is not a static, unchanging thing, an acceptance of truth that springs fully formed into existence and then remains at that state of being forever. Rather, because it involves a relationship as well as an intellectual acceptance, and because even that intellectual acceptance must be continually renewed and strengthened to survive the natural changes of our emotions, bodies, and environment, faith must be living and dynamic. If we do not feed it with truth, or support it against the weight of negative emotions, or encourage it with reminders of the work of God in our past, it will eventually wither and decrease, and in so doing will draw our hearts away from God. For faith is what pulls us toward Him; it is the tow-line reaching from our hearts to His. Thus, if we neglect that cable - if we fail to make it fast around our hearts, or if we allow the storm to fray it and choose not to repair the damage - our pull toward God will not be as strong, and we will find ourselves drifting in the seas. And without His guidance, our souls are very likely to run aground or capsize: in short, to shipwreck.

So, then, it is crucial for us to intentionally nurture and build up our faith. How do we do this? First, and most essentially, we choose to believe. Critical thinking does not injure faith, but dogmatic skepticism will. So having come already to the conclusion that Christianity is true (as we must have, if we've reached this point of strengthening and maintaining our faith), we need to approach the Bible, Christian teachings, sermons, songs, and so forth with an attitude of belief - of receiving all that is true and that we can understand into the depths of our hearts, of accepting those truths with willingness to change our attitudes and actions in response to them. All the outward signs of faith, the Bible studies and Scripture memorization, the regular attendance at church, will not strengthen our faith if we have hardened our hearts to their influence. But of course those things are also important! They are the means by which we take in the truth that will strengthen our faith.

When we have set our wills to believe, and are feeding our faith a steady diet of truth from the word of God, we are in a good position, but nothing in this world is secure. Our emotions may rise up in a storm too great for our will to resist, and threaten to sink our little ship of faith, or our circumstances may seem to belie God's promises of everlasting love and faithfulness and scatter secret doubts and falsehoods into the midst of our faith. This, I think, is when it is extremely important to have the support and encouragement of the church - the community of other faithful Christians willing to help us make it through the rough waters with our ship intact. Outside the emotions in our head or the situations in our lives, they can keep reminding us of the goal towards which we're sailing, and encourage us with their glimpses of the glory and beauty of the One we're following on this voyage even when we can't see Him ourselves.

Conversely, we have the privilege and responsibility of so encouraging our fellow Christians in their faith. As the book of Hebrews says, "exhort one another daily, while it is called 'Today'" (Heb 3:13). In other words, we should give encouragement at the moment we see it is needed, and even if we don't know that it is needed, instead of postponing it for some more convenient future time. Our encouragement of others should be a regular part of our lives - an outpouring of our love for them as our brothers and sisters in Christ, which desires to see the growth of their faith and their knowledge of God - not something we do sporadically or for special occasions. We must not take faith for granted, ours or anyone else's - it is something worth fighting for, and therefore something that must be fought for if it is to endure.

The fear of man

I think, as people, we have an innate desire for approval (love, respect, appreciation, etc.) and a complementary fear of condemnation (or of rejection, inadequacy, being ignored, etc.). While the fear is most likely a result of our fallen state, born out of feelings of shame and guilt that would have been completely unknown to Adam and Eve before they disobeyed God, I think the desire of which it is the negative manifestation may be a good and natural part of how we are created. Most of the virtues that apply to our daily interactions with others - things like love, compassion, gentleness, submission, encouragement, and so on - involve giving some positive form of acceptance, approval, love, or respect to others, and if we weren't made so as to desire and appreciate those things, giving them to others wouldn't be as important!

However, like all the other good things in us, this desire can also be twisted by sin. We can begin to want some sort of applause or recognition for ourselves, or we can become competitive in our desire - wanting more approval or love than anyone else. In short, we begin to make the gratification of this desire the source of our security and identity. And it was never meant to fill that role! Our desire for the approval and love of other people was always intended to come second to our desire to love and obey God, but ever since Adam chose to seek the approval and love of his wife when it came in conflict with his love and obedience to God, we have struggled putting the two in the right order. But when we are able to do so, we find that when God is first and our hearts are resting in and seeking Him more than the approval of other people, there is peace, security, and a new energy to positively impact other people instead of always seeking to take from them the praise or respect we needed to satisfy that other desire. Proverbs, as usual, says it the most succinctly:

"The fear of man brings a snare,
But whoever trusts in the Lord shall be secure." - Proverbs 29:25

Fighting for joy

Sometimes in the midst of life it is difficult to see the big picture. Life is often compared to a journey or a path, through which we are traveling, but it can frequently seem more like the endless futile circles of an eddy off the main course of a river: coming from nowhere, going to nowhere, and doing nothing meaningful in the interim. If it is a path, we don't seem able to see either the progress we've made so far or the goal ahead, and maybe even the direction the path is going.

When we feel this way - or at least, when I feel this way - it can be incredibly easy to lose hope. The past feels hopeless first because it is unchangeable, but also because it can seem to be a lost and straggling road, meandering through worthless endeavors in pursuit of meaningless goals, and because so often we feel that God has done nothing in our lives through all those years - that we have not grown, that we have not born fruit, that He has not accomplished any of that transformational change in which we find life, joy, and love. Burdened with the weight of past futility, it is hard to find reason for hope in the present; even when we do something well, when life is full of happiness and light, when the people we love have the same love for us in return, and when we feel close to God and excited by our deepening relationship with Him, the curse whispers in the back of our minds: "It is a passing dream; it is all an illusion; in the deepest core of reality, no one loves you and nothing you do will ever amount to anything." If we listen to that diabolical voice, it will veil the eyes of our heart to the goodness of God and murder the happiness and love we so deeply desire to know and to share. And it will begin to poison our hope for the future as well, by making us believe that in our truest being we are utter failures, worthless creatures incapable of ever achieving the great and beautiful visions we once had.

How can we, as Christians who are commanded to rejoice always, fight against this vision of the world and of ourselves, against these emotions that threaten to destroy whatever true hope there actually is for our lives? The first step, which seems too obvious to mention for those who have never been there, but which may appear almost impossible to those who are overwhelmed with this sense of futility and despair, is to desire joy. It is easy to say that we desire joy - after all, who wouldn't choose joy, light, and love over despair, darkness, and pain? But look at your heart and your mind in the middle of the black mood. When the little merry whispers come bringing you news of great joy, do you want to listen to them? Do you choose to listen to them, or do you push them aside so you can hold on to the darkness and the anger? I realized this week, for probably the first time in my life, that I am often doing just that - thrusting away the very light and love that my heart is crying out for, so that I can hold on to the blackness in my mind. And if we find ourselves choosing, my friends, to hold on to the hatred and the pain, then we have shown ourselves capable of choice in those moments of seemingly overwhelming despair. We are not thoroughly overwhelmed; we are not left without hope. For we still can choose.

After wanting joy, then, comes the desperately difficult task of choosing joy in every moment that the darkness tempts us. This is where we learn to be vigilant against sin (for despair is a sin, since it sets itself up against the true hope that is in Christ), to strengthen our wills and minds and bodies in fighting for the kingdom (for even these small battles in our minds, that seem to have no larger meaning or value, are battles waged for the kingdom of God against the power of sin and Satan), and to trust more deeply and completely in the grace and love of our Lord. This is where we discover the power of truth and the wonder of joy, the strength of hope and the might of faith, as we employ them in our service as weapons of war and see our foes defeated before us - and it is where we discover the riches of the grace of God as He forgives and restores every time we fall before them. He is the ultimate conqueror, after all, and will lead us in triumph; He will not forsake us, He will not stop loving us, and He does not consider us failures, no matter how purposeless our lives may seem. In Him, if we choose it, is joy unending, joy that is stronger than any pain or blackness. It was not idly, as an impossible ideal, that Paul wrote for us to rejoice always in Christ, and we can fight to grasp and keep that joy, vibrant and strong and beautiful, in our lives. And so we must fight, if we are to know and to follow God.

Hidden evils

None of the things that appealed to Eve about the forbidden fruit were bad. She saw, rightly, that it was an attractive fruit that would be good to the taste, and that beyond those normal qualities of a good fruit it would also increase her wisdom and knowledge, and make her more like God. Obviously it isn't bad to enjoy good food, nor on a higher level is it bad to desire and seek after wisdom and knowledge. Indeed, those are things that God gives us and wants us to enjoy; there are even hints in the Bible that we will become so much like God that we can be called gods (see Psalm 82 and John 10). So from a purely rational perspective - proceeding strictly from observable facts and ignoring direct revelation - it would be perfectly fine to eat that fruit. But the key part of that is ignoring direct revelation. All these things looked good, and were good, and were things God was prepared to give to Adam and Eve in His own good time and manner, but it was wrong for them to try to obtain them in their own way by eating the fruit.

I think we are tempted by many similar fruits today: things that logically seem good, that from every perspective except one make sense for us to pursue, but from that one perspective are strictly and clearly forbidden. There might be choices we have to make in which one path seems the best from financial, prudent, and personal angles, but involves sacrificing our conscience or shirking one of the responsibilities God has given us (such as a child's submission to his parents or a wife's to her husband, or of anyone to some duty or charity for which he or she is specifically and uniquely responsible). No matter how attractive that path may seem, if it requires some other disobedience, it is the wrong path; it is forbidden fruit, and no amount of rationalization can correct it. And that can be hard to accept, sometimes! Particularly if ambition or pride enters the game, it can be hard to turn away from something that seems so good, so right, so much like something God would want us to have. But it is essential. It is, at times, the cross we must carry as followers of Christ, through which we learn to deny ourselves as He denied Himself to carry out His Father's will.

Silently waiting

As the year advances and Paul and I are still waiting (endlessly, it seems) to know for sure where we'll be in the fall and what this next year will look like, it's been hard for me not to be anxious or impatient. So I found in this verse both encouragement and peace:

"Truly my soul silently waits for God;
From Him comes my salvation.
He only is my rock and my salvation;
He is my defense;
I shall not be greatly moved." - Psalm 62:1-2

That first line in particular stands out to me, and I think the word "silently" is especially important. What it implies is that in our waiting (for God's direction and timing), we ought to stop all the complains and questions that rise up in our minds, and to put an end to the anxiety and impatience that dwells in our hearts. Then, when we've cleared all that away, there is space and energy left to genuinely trust God with the peace and calm of a little child.

Honestly, it's rather liberating to trust in this way. The little moments I manage to actually trust, instead of just stuffing the worries deeper inside or pretending that everything will be work out exactly the way I want it, are really awesome, because it lets me out of the confinements of my own fears and uncertainties into the full breadth and depth of God's faithfulness and sovereignty. Instead of hearing only my own anxiety or impatience going around in my head over and over again, my heart in its quietness can hear the truth and love God speaks to me. He is my rock! When all else is unknown and uncertain, He is who He is, unchanging and eternal.

Freely suffering

Mentally, I'm still on Good Friday. I realized something this year, on Good Friday, about what Jesus endured for us, that I think had never really struck me before: that the suffering He faced, He walked through of His own volition. He says as much to His disciples: "do you think that I cannot now pray to My Father, and He will provide me with more than twelve legions of angels?" (Mt. 26:53). It is one thing to endure sufferings when one is forced into them and has no way of escape, but must simply persevere; it is another thing altogether to continue to embrace those sufferings when it is completely within one's power to avoid them - and that is precisely what Christ did.

(Tangentially, I think that the value of fasting may lie in this very truth - that Christ walked through every moment of His sufferings intentionally and deliberately - because in fasting we also choose to take up suffering and embrace it, even though at any time we could choose to step out of our suffering back into bodily comfort and pleasure. So in fasting our understanding of Christ's suffering for us can grow experientially, not just intellectually, even though the suffering is comparatively so small. The spiritual and physical discipline may also help us to be able to endure greater sufferings in the future, ones that we have not chosen and cannot escape, but I can't speak to that personally.)

Anyway, the fact that Jesus did indeed walk through that suffering freely - compelled only by His love for us and for His Father - demonstrates the incredible depth and greatness of that love. The verse that has lingered in my mind all through Holy Week is the one with which the apostle John begins his telling of the great story, as the disciples gather together to celebrate the Passover with Jesus for the last time:

"Now before the Feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that His hour had come that He should depart from this world to the Father, having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end." - John 13:1 (emphasis added)

 His love truly is the love that does not fail. Even when faced with the cross, it did not fail, and He loved us to the end. And that, I think, is the most wonderful foundation on which to build the rest of my life: on the love of Jesus, that will never let me down, and which led Him to die that I might know God, and in knowing God find life.

Praying against temptation

After Jesus had the Passover dinner with His disciples (which we now remember as the Last Supper), He went to the Mount of Olives to pray, and told His disciples to pray also, that they might not succumb to temptation. But they didn't pray. He prayed in such agony of spirit that, according to the gospel of Luke, His sweat became like drops of blood; Matthew says He was deeply distressed and sorrowful. After all, He knew what was about to happen! Because He desired to obey His Father's will, however, even more than He wanted to avoid the suffering into which He was about to surrender Himself, He prayed, fervently and earnestly.

A little ways off, His disciples slept. They didn't sleep simply because they were tired and out late and didn't realize the distress that Jesus was in: Luke tells us that they slept from sorrow. He had just told them at dinner that He would be betrayed, and suffer, and die; that He would leave them; and that one of them, Peter, would deny Him at the moment of truth. And so although they didn't fully understand what Jesus was talking about - their responses to Him in the book of John make that clear! - they could certainly tell that something was wrong, and that something great and dreadfully sad and painful was forthcoming. So sleep offered them a welcome escape from the sorrow and the bewilderment. Instead of having to wrestle with their worries and fears, with all that they didn't understand, and with Jesus' obvious sorrow and ominous warnings, they could rest in peaceful oblivion. I'm sure it seemed like a good solution - the easiest choice, the most pleasant path.

But because they slept at that moment, they didn't pray. And because they didn't pray, then, in the empty moments before the Pharisees and priests came with their servants and guards to take Jesus away, their hearts and minds were not prepared, not fortified by faith, to endure the fear and sorrow to come. They did not pray, as Jesus had taught them, for God to keep them from temptation - and so when temptation came, they fell. What seemed like the easy road, the escape from pain, ended up leading them into even more sorrow and pain. Peter runs into the night alone, bitterly weeping, not just for the arrest and imminent death of his Lord, but for his own denial of his Lord and friend.

It made me wonder how often I've chosen to pursue an escape or distraction instead of praying - how frequently I simply try to avoid the worries and the sorrows of life by ignoring them, instead of facing them head on in prayer and seeking the strength and the grace of God to help me deal with them - as well as how often that choice not to pray has resulted in sin, as it did for Peter. For the world is full of paths that promise an escape, that offer peace and happiness without the unpleasant task of coping with and fighting the pains and sorrows and fears of reality. I know I've used Facebook, Pinterest, blog-surfing, and even programming to numb or ignore feelings I don't want to deal with, instead of taking them to God with prayer and supplication; lest you think technology is the prime foe, I can tell you that I've done the same with books, homework, and projects - anything that distracts the mind and heart from the real issue can work. It doesn't seem like a bad thing to find peace in these distractions, and it probably isn't always a bad thing. But when it takes us away from prayer, when it leads us to seek peace and comfort in anything other than God, when it leaves us in a happy drugged stupor at the moment the trial comes, instead of strengthened in faith and prepared to hold fast to God - then it is a bad thing, leading to increased sin and multiplied sorrow.

So let us pray! Let us learn from Jesus and His disciples (as positive and negative examples, respectively), and pray in the midst of the worries and sorrows of life, the bewilderment and the suffering, that we may not enter into temptation, but may be protected against sin and strengthened for righteousness.

Love beyond comprehension

"And when I think

That God His Son not sparing

Sent Him to die

I scarce can take it in,

That on the cross,

My burden gladly bearing,

He bled and died

To take away my sin."

This week we remember the primary reason why Jesus came to earth as a man at all: to suffer and die, that we might be freed from sin and restored to life in Him. He did not come to be merely a Teacher and an example for us to follow; the moral standards God desired His people to obey were already revealed and codified in the Mosaic Law, and in every culture there have been great philosophers and moral teachers who have given us the basic information we need about what is right and what is wrong. God did not need to come Himself in the flesh - to utterly humble Himself and live in poverty and die in agony and shame - to simply give us more teaching. No, He has come to make us new. He has come to give us new life, to reconcile us to God, to redeem us from the depths of sin, to release us from the burdens of fear and judgment and condemnation by taking those burdens on Himself. He chose to pass through incredible depths of suffering and humiliation that we might be raised to incredible heights of glory and joy. We see this week, as we remember the sacrifice Jesus made, that His love for us truly is beyond all our comprehension - but we are also reminded that we can know that love experientially, in Christ, even as it is revealed to be deeper and higher and wider than we can intellectually understand.

"Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee:
How great Thou art,
How great Thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee:
How great Thou art,
How great Thou art!"