A RADICAL FAITH WORTH NOTING
And what more shall I say? For time will fail me if I tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets, 33 who by faith conquered kingdoms, performed acts of righteousness, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, 34 quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, from weakness were made strong, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. 35 Women received back their dead by resurrection; and others were tortured, not accepting their release, so that they might obtain a better resurrection; 36 and others experienced mockings and scourgings, yes, also chains and imprisonment. 37 They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were tempted, they were put to death with the sword; they went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated 38 (men of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and holes in the ground.
~Hebrews 11:32-28~
“How strong is your faith?” It’s one of the most common questions asked in our Christian circles, and yet I’d say one of the most misunderstood questions of our age. So often, when we are asked this question concerning our own spiritual walks or when asked about the “faith” of others, we respond with the mundane that reveal what we truly consider faith to be about:
“So far, so good. I’ve been reading my Bible and memorizing Scripture…”
“It’s going well. Recently, I’ve learned to be more disciplined in praying…”
“Right now, I’m growing in my faith. I’m learning to journal and fast weekly…”
Faith in this age and culture has become a euphemism for traditional habits of the regular church-goer. Faith all of a sudden has been defined by a set of rules, and how faithfully we keep those rules. Now, I’m not one to say that one should not have disciplines in one’s walk with the Lord designed to promote closer communion with Him. Yet, these disciplines are not faith, and nor are they the full result of a live lived in faith.
I was recently struck by both my own misunderstanding of it as well as my misrepresentation of it – all to my own shame which caused me to repent before God for a lack of faith in life. If it is impossible to please God without faith, I had to ask myself if I really do live by faith in all that I do. I know the faith that exists in me internally. Yes, it is the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen. The question is: Does the outworking of my life truly show that I live in faith in the same way that all of those men and women listed in Hebrews 11 did? While Hebrews 12:1-2 has long been one of the keystone verses in my life, is the race I run really a race of faith? Or is it just a race? Is faith evident in the way I live my life personally? Is it evident in the way I lead and shepherd my family? Is there evidence of it in the way I pastor the church in which I’m called to serve? Does it show in the manner in which I proclaim the gospel to lost souls? Does it manifest itself in my daily decision-making?
It is not only evident that we often misunderstand what it means to live by faith, but also minimize it.
“Just have faith that she will say yes to you if you ask her out. After all, you’re a great guy!”
“Just have faith that you’ll get that job that you want. After all, you’ve worked hard!”
“Just have faith that you’ll get that two-story house by the time you’re 30.”
It’s frustrating to see Christians – including myself – define a life of faith as a life that trusts God to act as a glorified genie who can grant lustful wishes should they be repeated with sincerity. This isn’t the kind of faith that pleases God. This isn’t the kind of faith that the author of Hebrews writes about.
Hebrews 11:32-38 – a synthesis of the kind of lives produced by faith amongst the Old Testament saints – would make the average American church-goer – myself included – seem almost wimpy. Evidently amongst the former, faith in the promises of God produced lives of a radical nature. Take a closer look at what faith accomplished, and one is bound to cringe. Conquering kingdoms? Shutting the mouths of lions? Quenching the power of fire? Escaping the edge of the sword? Putting foreign armies to flight? Receiving back their dead by resurrection? These saints not only dreamt big – but they lived big. Am I living in this way? Not because I’m a dreamer, but because I’m fully assured of the hope that lies in God and fully convicted of that final reward promised to me? One can’t help but look at what faith not only should accomplish, but did accomplish in these people to wonder if one’s own life consists of that same ingredient. Faith invests itself in endeavors so big and radical that it keeps the average Christian a little off-balance when observing. The life produced by faith has such a vision for the spiritually risky that the casual observer – atheist or Christian – would say, “He would need something supernatural to accomplish that!” Do I live with spiritual risk? Do you? Do we, together as a band of brothers united in Christ and assured of an eternal and imperishable inheritance, live dangerously? Or are we simply complacent? Are we comfortable? Are we ambitious for the small? Or would the riskiness of our choices ad decisions in life make the average American wonder if he himself was living for God? And no, not because of our legalistic standards and critical words, but because of the length that we are willing to go to live for Jesus?
Yet even more sobering than considering what faith was designed to accomplish is considering what faith was designed to endure. For these men and women, living by faith meant being tortured while not accepting their release, that they might attain a better resurrection. It meant being mocked and scourged. It meant being chained and imprisoned. It meant being stoned and saw in two. It meant being put to death by the sword. It meant having to wander deserts and mountains and caves and holes in the ground. It meant, in short, having to endure the radically most painful things that can experienced on earth. And so, I have to ask, does my life endure such things that those who live by faith did? If so, how can I say that I truly walk in faith? Is my life lived in fear rather than in faith, such that the most painful trial I have to face is not having internet connection in my home? Do we make decisions that are costly? The one who lives by faith makes the heavenly investment by paying the earthly price. And those who follow his example find themselves having to endure the same thing. Are we making decisions that, based on worldly consequences that we receive for it, make us look foolish and pitiful should there be no resurrection from the dead? Do those who do not know Christ pity me for what I do and how I choose to live? Do I live by such a radical faith that could eventually cost me my life?
And so what is the conclusion? The Christian life, if properly lived in faith, should never be boring or safe. It is radical. It is crazy. It is insanely risky. And, to the non-believer, it is foolish. But Hebrews 11:32-38 is not a description that bores its readers. Rather, it captivates them and puts to question the integrity of their Christian living. It shakes even the most solid of Christians to the core. And so I will say to you so-called Christian who makes casual observers think that following Jesus is boring that you have misrepresented what it means to follow Jesus Christ and live like Him. Our problem is not weakness. Rather, it is wimpiness. The life of faith is something so radical in what it is willing to accomplish and willing to endure that it holds the attention of the watching world!
A few years ago, my wife and I were engaged in a conversation with one of our close family friends while on a trip to Montreal. The conversation arose from his asking what my family was up to (what we’re doing in church) and why we do what we do? This friend – he will remain anonymous – is not a Christian, and was inquisitive as to why our family lived the way we did. Deep into the conversation, I looked at him and asked:
“Do you think we’re crazy?” To this, he responded:
“Honestly, yeah, I think you guys are crazy. I respect you guys and the way you live your lives, but still. I don’t think I would ever have the guts to live the way you guys live. It’s too much risk, and I’d lose too much. I love my life too much,” (paraphrased).
It only assured me that we were living the right way.
