Fearless Faith

It’s a timely question these days, made even more critical by the fact that every person’s setting is unique. COVID-19 is not anything to pass off or take lightly, something confirmed by the experiences (stories) within my immediate family. Long range effects in those recovering now populate a wide array of medical concerns including serious and lasting cardiac implications, all this apart from the socio-economic and mental health aspects accompanying the pandemic.

We ought not to be surprised. History informs us of the repetitious nature of pandemics as well as other recurring maladies. Many are left wondering what comes next, not only during the day proper, but when they rise the following morning in order to take a brave peek at current news headlines of the day.

One of the most impactful ways of dealing with the travails of life is by telling stories: theirs, yours, mine, ours. It is in the telling that we are humanized rather than vilified. Can we listen with an open ear to the soul of another without first condemning? Storytelling is healing, especially when the stories come from the heart. We can never fully understand walking in another’s shoes, even when the knowing declaration, “I know exactly how you feel” is made. Though well-intended, it simply cannot be claimed as certainty. Knowing that, why not set aside enough space to engage similar stories and draw useful analogies in our own lives?

Where would Christianity be without the stories of Jesus? His compassion would lack the conviction and authority that first-hand knowledge brings. He walked among the sick and wounded, those deep in poverty or mired into unhealthy relationships. He confronted the status quo through parables, challenging us to draw our own conclusions after laying out the stories for us. Who can dismiss his convictions when, through the gospel narratives, he stared down both spiritual and physical death and brought them to their knees?

Sharing the stories of humanity demands that we listen as Christ did, not for the purpose of interjecting our own bias or to set the rest of the world straight, but to open doors of understanding with those whom we do not yet understand. If we can overcome our predilections for embracing fear over knowledge, hate over empathy, self-importance over humbleness, then we have only just begun to walk the path that Jesus walked.

Wouldn’t it be great if our faith was as simple as religious hucksters would have us believe? The immature wanderings of those who misappropriate the stories of Jesus for their own selfish ends will always be part of the landscape. Be wise enough to know what rings true and what does not. By talking more than listening, reacting more than thinking, and blaming more than affirming, we deny the best of who we are for the sake of a cheap fix.

The cost of discipleship, so capably described by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, is high because it brings us face-to-face with the ‘other,’ and challenges us to both recognize and avoid ‘cheap grace.’ As long as we prefer to dig in behind the gates of our perceived safe and self-fortified walls, we cannot comprehend the depth and reach of the stories Jesus places before us. Will we rise to the occasion or continue to war among ourselves in unhealthy ways? Re-visit the stories of Jesus and be surprised.