Trust

Friends,

    Here we are, getting ready for a new season of activities at Ashland.  I want to seriously suggest that we approach this and all seasons in the life of our church with renewed optimism and true joy about experiencing and sharing "Good News."  After all, if the church can't do that, in all the many ways it can be expressed, perhaps we might question what we are doing - and if it's what God wants us to be doing or not.  I bring this up in part for personal reasons, but also because I sense some of us may have trouble trusting God - as deeply as we want - to be true to the divine promises that Jesus made.  Such difficulty in trust chips away at our capacity for deep joy and leaves us with a legacy of spiritual fear more than spiritual freedom.  I just happen to believe (or try to) that God wants us to have more of the latter and less of the former.  But we Christians all grow up hearing stories and interpretations that tend to leave us more fearful of God than trusting.  For example, when the Psalmist says "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," the word "fear" is a poor and misleading translation of what was meant to convey a sense of awe and reverence over the wonder of God, of God's magnificent creation, and God's infinite, gracious love.

    I think our situation resembles the old story of the village atheist who slipped while climbing a mountain and fell off a very high cliff.  As he fell he caught a branch of a small tree that was growing just under the edge of the cliff, but he didn't have quite enough strength to haul himself up.  In desperation he called out, "God, if you really exist, prove it by rescuing me.  I will tell the whole world that I was wrong in being an atheist."  At that a well-modulated voice came out of a cloud hovering above him.  "I can only help you if you believe.  Do you believe in me?"  "Yes!!!!" cried the unfortunate man.  "I believe!  I believe!"  "Good, " said the voice.  "I will save you.  Let go of the branch."   The poor man hesitated a moment and then asked, "Is there anybody else up there?"

    If we really trust God - if we take God at the Word Christ delivered - wouldn't our actions logically follow?  We would let go, because we trusted.  And we would trust without being afraid.  Still, the heritage of fear that many of us carry is deep. We need to be able to let go of it if we're going to have a chance at being joyful Christians, who share really "Good News" by what we say and do - by how we treat one another and ourselves, and others who desperately need care.

    Does this mean that I have difficulty with some stories in the Bible that seem to describe a God who is dangerous and angry, not over injustices (for we can all be legitimately indignant over injustices), but in ways that seem to convey a double message about love?  "I love you infinitely, and I have provided at great cost the means for you to be drawn out of the existential trap in which you find yourself held captive, BUT 'you had better figure out the right thing to think, do, believe, etc' and 'choose the right door' giving the answer to the riddle of the ages, OR ELSE!"  Somehow a message like that doesn't rid me of my fear or engender a feeling of complete trust, or faith.  So yes, I do struggle with this, and I certainly don't have all the answers.

    God asks for our trust - the kind of trust that can bring with it a great sense of freedom and a wonderful joy - as well as a loving heart toward all people.  Knowing this, I cannot deliver a fear-full message with a clear conscience.  What I can do is to shout joyfully the truth about God's love, as I struggle by sheer and absolute grace to move closer to its realization: "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not (yet) reached perfection in love" (I John 4:18).   So, let us all pray and think and struggle together-- and strive to be a faith community where really "Good News" is spoken, sung, taught, enjoyed and given meaningful expression, every day!
 
In Christ,

Brett Morgan