Without Faith

What constitutes a person’s faith? Less than a year ago I probably would have possessed a succinct conclusion regarding that question. At this time in my life, however, I struggle to understand what composes my own faith. Is faith simply a set of beliefs, a type of intellectual acceptance of certain facts and figures? Jesus plus the Cross minus my sins equals salvation? Or is it more of a world view? Creationists versus evolutionists, those who read the Bible as history versus those who read it all as formational literature, conservatives versus liberals, and many more controversies illumine stark contrasts between people of faith, even in the Church. What makes me Christian? Is it because I believe in six days of Creation, a literal Flood, prophets who sent bears to maul mocking youths, Israelites who smashed infants and murdered women because God told them to, or is it because I somehow manage to justify and explain all these things in my head? In truth, I believe faith is none of the above.

Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. What proves that certainty? Is there some type of action required of me, or do I only need to feel certain? Much of the confusion I’m feeling regarding this question comes as a result of a tough question that was put to me earlier this week. If a person claims to follow Christ but his life clearly implies the opposite, then what are we to conclude regarding his faith? It is not our job to judge, but it is our job to learn from each other in the Church how to conduct ourselves in a way that honors Christ. So if a person follows Christ in action, but not in word, what comes of her?

Whenever I wrestle with these thoughts, one idea always bleeds through the mental jargon. It isn’t complicated; it doesn’t require belief, or acceptance, or explanation. It’s just to love. And I do not mean to suggest that this idea to love reserves itself only for those I already love. The thought is more of an imperative, like a command from God, a whisper from the Holy Spirit. Just love. In every second of my day each person that I encounter, every enemy and/or friend I come across, is to be loved. I think this is faith. I don’t need faith to have the idea, nor do I have to believe in love or that I’m supposed to love. I am simply to love, and that action is faith given flesh. This is Gospel.

So when things are confusing, when Hebrew texts don’t exactly line up when any English translation in existence simply because Hebrew and English can’t be precisely translated into the other, when dozens of assumptions I’ve held about my beliefs can no longer be reconciled to my faith, then I will love. At moments like these, a person discovers the presence or absence of their faith. Somewhere in these tangled thoughts lies the foundation of being a pastor/priest, a person of faith.