Fearless Faith

It has been a year of great interest thus far, from rancorous politicking and damaging storms to viral health concerns, real and imagined. Such an impactful combination has encouraged a common observation by many; it would be nice to hit a restart button on the last six months or so. Even if we could, would we find ourselves in a different or better place now? Would foreknowledge steer us toward healthier outcomes or simply overwhelm? Is it a foregone conclusion, as in generations before, that we are destined to return to less than exemplary behaviors?

A characteristic of recent times has been the manifestation of calmness and wisdom at unexpected moments. Such moments arise from people in power but also from a few who are, by societal measure, quite powerless. Such glimpses of wisdom constitute the essence of relationships that are genuine and heartfelt. Instead of casting others in a light that makes it easy to hate, we explore what it means for the “other” to also have a voice in the conversation. Distinguishing between the two can be difficult.

The early Pietist movement of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries moved toward a “theology of goodness,” convinced that love was an active component of faith and that the Radical Reformation had as much to do with reforming people as it did the hierarchical church (Brown, 1978). The notion that change was not only possible but an essential marker of growing in faith, allowed for individual degrees of understanding without compulsion or coercion. Living ones faith was not dependent on how strictly one conformed to strictures of the church. The continuing presence of God equated with changed lives and included ethical considerations. In essence, God is powerful enough to change people’s lives, even though they resist.

That can be a refreshing view when one is mired into the politics of the moment, religious or otherwise. The good news is that we are not hopelessly stuck in dogmatic belief, but can choose to reside instead in an active, dynamic, participatory faith environment. Regardless of whether you read the Bible figuratively or literally, its storylines from start to finish constitute a message of relationship with our creator. Paraphrased, Oglala Sioux and Holy Man Black Elk suggests that it can be difficult to verify each individual component of the spiritual journey that we are on, but he acknowledges that the overall story is true. In his case as well as ours, we all share stories of relationship.

Can we claim that with confidence? Can we say we don’t have each and every answer to each and every question, yet still know that our full measure is in the capable hands of the Divine? With that realization, the game changes and suddenly we begin to see beyond the loss, the trials and things that vex. We are free to set aside the demands of organized religion so that we can go about the business of rediscovering a theology of goodness, sometimes right before our very eyes.

Isaiah 1:13-17 is aptly paraphrased by Eugene Peterson. “Quit your worship charades, I can’t stand your trivial religious games… Go home and wash up. Clean up your act. Sweep your lives clean of your evildoings so I don’t have to look at them any longer. Say no to wrong. Learn to do good. Work for justice. Help the down-and-out. Stand up for the homeless. Go to bat for the defenseless.” Even the smallest of things can matter.