I often want to curate the results of my choices by doing things that will never amount to “failure” if I “mess up.” But that’s a pretty stifling and limiting way to live, something that I’m learning can lead to what Paul ominously calls a “grave-tending life” (Romans 8:15-17, The Message).
And this is not faith. As stated in Hebrews, faith is living with “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1, ESV). I’ve always thought of this description of faith primarily in the context of trusting God to do miraculous things, and thinking about the future: things hoped for in the future, and conviction of things not seen, like being in heaven or with Christ for eternity.
But I’ve come to understand that while stepping out in faith means all of these things, it also means trusting that God is transforming me right now. Here’s another way to look at Hebrews’ definition of faith: What if the “assurance of things hoped for” could also mean believing in the fruition of Christ’s finished work in my life? What if “conviction of things not seen” could also refer to the righteousness I have in Christ that I struggle to believe is true of me when I sin?
I recently finished a book with a friend about Genesis. What stood out to me in the author’s reflections was the way she showcased, again and again, the incredible faithfulness of God toward his beloved children in the midst of their sin, failures and wickedness. I had never noticed to this degree his expansive grace towards those least deserving of it. But the catch was these sinners (Abraham, notably) believed in God, and they believed in His goodness.
Faith is not just trust in something being true; it’s, more importantly, trust in Someone being good. And not just trust that he is good in that he loves or upholds what is just, but trust that he is good toward me. When I fail, when I mess up, when I sin, when I stumble. Believing this is true in the face of what seems a moral and logical impossibility is a part of faith. It’s the conviction of what I can’t see (my own goodness, which I have in Christ) and the assurance of what I hope for (freedom, joy and Christlikeness).
In his book, Renovation Of The Heart, Dallas Willard defines love as “willing good” toward someone. We are told in Scripture that God loves us. So, here’s the vital question: Do I believe that God wills good toward me when I feel most like it’s not true?
Do you?
Ashley Carr
EFCC Member