The Proof of Faith
1988 (Year B), 18 September /
Pentecost 17
St Peter de Beauvoir Town
Filled with twentieth century sophistication, some scepticism, and just a little doubt it’s not an easy thing to have faith. Even we, the community of faith, we look back jealously to a time when to have faith was so much easier.
There was an age when things were much simpler. Then, there were clear connections between God and the world. Things went well and God was pleased with you. You were rewarded. On the other hand if you did things which were wrong; that displeased the divine and – not to put too fine a point on it – you got it in the neck or some other painful place.
That centurion understood it all very well. He knew that if he told one of his men to jump then they would. If there were things that he couldn’t do, and he couldn’t heal his servant, then he found a man who could. It was just like the man in need of the AA, except a touch more poetic. ‘Lord I am not worthy that thou shouldst come under roof, but speak the word only and my servant will be healed’. It really was as easy as that. The connections were clear. Faith and knowledge went hand in hand.
That was then. There’s been a profound change and it needs a little explanation. It seems that then faith and knowledge were as close as that. Two sides of the same coin if you like. It’s not so now. Now, faith only begins where knowledge ends. It’s perceived as being less strong, less firm. more provisional. You only resort to faith when you run out of knowledge. And our knowledge grows and grows, or at least we like to think it does, so faith is constantly being pushed further and further away. To have faith appears to become more and more unreasonable.
And if as we’re told, knowledge is power, then faith is certainly seen as weakness. The place where we realise this most clearly and acutely is where knowledge of other people is concerned. If you know something of the secret of another person’s heart, you soon become aware of the enormous power in your hands. You have the ability to make them dance to your tune. Something very vulnerable and fragile has been put into your hands. You have power. To have faith in another person is not like that at all. To have faith and trust in them is precisely not to take control. It’s rather to put ourselves at their mercy. They remain independent and free. They retain their power.
It’s because of all this that faith is so excruciatingly difficult and we either look pityingly at those who see the hand of God in their lives; providence they call it. Or we look longingly at them wishing we could match the magnitude and simplicity of their faith. When it shines out like a beacon and the proof of their faith is clear in the lives they lead, its often more off-putting than encouraging.
Faith does affect change and there is a connection between what we say we have faith in and what we do. One doesn’t prove the validity of the other. What we do doesn’t prove our faith, but if you can’t see at least some connections between the two in a person’s life then you begin to doubt whether they really do have faith. We know all this because we see it in other peoples lives. Jeremiah had faith that. He held to the hope that one day the Israelites would return from exile and be able to buy and sell their own land again. The centurion’s sympathy is completely out of place. ‘God be merciful to me a sinner’, he says. Well in saying that at least he is telling the truth.
He is the bad man and he adopts a quite different approach from the good one. He accepts everything he’s done, fully and completely, without beating about the bush. But he has no supporters. No one can save him. He throws himself entirely on God’s mercy. And he reminds God and himself that ultimately, ‘The Lord gives grace to the humble’.
Well, we all know how the story ends. It ends with divine justice, judgement and mercy.
The bad man went down to his house justified rather than the good man. Jesus declares that in God’s eyes right is on the side of the bad man rather than the good. This is terrifyingly hard for all good people and amazing for bad. Yet the truth is that we will ultimately only be free when we face ourselves and God with the judgement of Jesus and the bad man’s confession. For we all – me too – belong to a ‘certain people’ who when it comes down to it, exalt ourselves by disparaging others.
In community with Jesus, people have continually discovered that God accepts bad people’s souls whilst rejecting good. And in community with Jesus, the friend of sinners, we see that we are loved with people we would rather not be with at all. In community with Jesus, we discover that the doors are wide open.
The story in the end is about divine justice and mercy. That’s the point of it. And I tell the story now to make as plain as I can that this Stewardship Programme that we’re in the middle of isn’t about one little aspect of our lives. We’re not sorting out how much mint and rue to give to God. That’s not the point at all What we’re actually about is justice we are about mercy and we are trying to walk humbly with our God. That’s what we’re actually about. And my goodness me, if we get anywhere near getting that right then we have no need to worry about money at all. AMEN