Faith


Tulips

I’ve been thinking about the concept of love lately. With apologies to Mrs J., it’s not just love in the romantic context.

I’m talking about practical love in the broader relationship sense. How we respond to people and circumstances. The motivations that drive our behaviour in everyday life. How you treat your family, friends, colleagues. Or even your attitude to institutions like the church and politics.

In the book of John (ch 13 vs 34), Jesus is quoted as saying that we are to love each other in the same way that he loved us – or in the context of the narrative, his disciples and the people who were alive when he was on the earth in physical form.

Broadly speaking, Jesus demonstrated love by standing up for injustice, helping those in need (healing the sick), encouraging people to be all that they can be, and ultimately dying on the Cross. Personally, I find that example both inspiring and outright scary. When push came to shove, for example, would I die on behalf of someone? I can confidently say I would do that for my family without hesitation. But others?

To take a step back for a moment, I think it’s probably fair to say that the idea of love is broadly accepted as one of, if not the, highest ideals in society. We all want to be loved, and most of us want to love other people in some fashion.

But let’s face it, as human beings there are times when our actions (regardless of your faith background) betray our commitment to this ideal. And I’ve been reflecting on two reasons why we struggle with the fact that we hurt those that we love, and those we don’t want to love.

The short answer is pride and fear get in the way. There are plenty of examples in the Bible that illustrate this idea: Peter withdrew from his friends because he was afraid of the Jewish Christians (Galatians 2:11-14). The Pharisees in Jesus day set about plotting to kill him because his message undermined their authority and position in the Roman world (John 11: 45-57). They were both proud of their position, and afraid of losing their status.

I can think of many times when I’ve thought myself too important to help someone. Or simply been to afraid of making changes in my life because I could not control the consequences or outcomes. Until fairly recently, I’ve wrestled for years with a fear of what other people might think of me if I said or did the wrong thing.

In both these examples, I’m actually incapable of demonstrating love because either fear or pride either consciously or subconsciously act as inhibitors.

The great irony in all this is the antidote to fear and pride is love itself. If you choose to act in a way that demonstrates love, you actually overcome fear and pride (there’s a reference to this in 1 John 4:18 where “perfect love casts out fear”). It’s easy to write about, but more difficult to put in practice. But for me, it’s been amazing to learn that deciding to love to others in spite of your human instinct to the contrary actually has the positive effect of reducing levels of stress, fear, pride and selfishness that constantly creep into life.

I’ll never forget hearing a US preacher tackle this question (via podcast). To paraphrase, he argued faith is the belief in something that has not yet arrived.
You might have faith in your ability to pass an exam, but once you’ve passed that exam you don’t need faith for that any more. You’ve passed. It’s done. Hebrews chapter 11 is good on this one. Verse one says: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”

I reckon many of us think of faith as something of a bet, a punt. We “have faith” something will happen, but we still leave room for doubt. We have 80 per cent faith that what we believe is true. Why is that? Is it part of the so-called human condition? We’ve been wrong by so many people, jaded from the harsh realities of life that we just can’t muster the faith in faith itself?

Take a look at Hebrews 11 if you get a moment and there’s a stack of stories about ancient prophets who did what God told them to do, in faith, and God rewarded their faithfulness. Call it tough love, but I suspect God is saying faith isn’t faith unless we believe 100 per cent.