When we look back at
August 2016, I wonder if, amid all the news of trials and tragedies
around the world, some people at least will remember it as the summer
of Pokemon Go. Wherever you travel around the city and beyond, you’re
likely to encounter young adults apparently mesmerised by the screen
on their smartphones, as they try to capture these cartoon creatures
who appear for a limited time in specific real locations. My
otherwise intelligent son will admit to running the length of the
Leamington Road in hopes of catching a Charazar which was apparently
located somewhere close to the Finham roundabout…but of course
REALLY there’s nothing there at all. These are virtual creations,
invisible without the help of a smart phone…and in collecting them,
my son and his peers are collecting nothing of any real value
whatsoever. But of course, to those in the know, they are engaged in
something that’s absorbing and entertaining. You just have to
understand how it works.
And of course, many of
those who grasp the appeal of Pokemon will find themselves completely
baffled by the number of people who get up on Sunday morning and come
some distance, negotiating the complications of Sky Ride et al, to
engage with what they might describe as our own particular “imaginary
friend”. For them Christianity is simply an exercise in mass
delusion – and if you’ve ever tried to explain why you’re here
on strictly rational grounds, you’ll know that it really isn’t
easy.
The problem is that we
can’t offer any objective proof that we’re not completely
barking. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction
of things not seen said Paul…and even for us, who have got here by
hook or by crook this morning, faith is not a steady state. In fact,
faith and feelings seem all too inextricably entangled, so that the
times in life when external challenges make us particularly focussed
on our NEED for something beyond the immediate struggles may also be
the times when we feel least certain of God’s love for us.
The point, then, is to
remember that while faith is not the same as knowledge, neither is it
the same as feeling. Emotions ebb and flow and are a pretty bad guide
to reality. If we only believed in God when our feelings enabled us
to do so, - on those golden days when all's right with the world,
then I’m guessing that there would be many many Sundays when we
stayed at home. What’s interesting is that in his celebration of
the faith of his fathers, Paul relies above all on story…Abraham
acted on his own experience of a God who spoke and made promises –
and then Abraham’s obedient action became in itself compelling
evidence to encourage the faith of others (right down to the present
day). Sarah, who didn’t have that initial encounter with God, found
the whole thing much more problematic – but clearly she had faith
in her husband. Her experience of him was that he was probably
neither mad nor bad, and so she allowed herself to be uprooted
repeatedly,to be swept up in his great adventure – only really
grasping why when her son was in her arms. She trusted him – and
their story became evidence to inspire the trust of others.
And I’m guessing that
for most of us, it has been the experience of knowing other
Christians, people whom WE trust, that has inspired our own faith
journey. Perhaps we have seen them tackle life differently, opt for
slightly different priorities, perhaps we’ve noticed an indefinable
something – maybe love, maybe joy, maybe peace? – and wished that
we could share it.
Sometimes, of course,
God intervenes directly and very powerfully – as he did with Abram.
One of the great delights of ordained ministry is that people feel
able to talk about that kind of encounter, without worrying that we
will automatically assume they are deluded – so I’ve been
privileged to hear some amazing and wonderful stories. God is
constantly in the business of building a relationship with each one
of God’s children. If the church as we know it vanished tomorrow,
that process would continue….BUT ….If we are here because of the
faith of others, then we need to recognise that our own faith,
however faltering, our own longing to lead a life shaped by our
relationship with God, will have an impact in its turn.
So – be conscious of
the value of your own story…On a bad day, you may feel that all you
can offer is a dogged determination to keep on behaving AS IF you
believe, because at least that gives you a sense of purpose and of
hope, however faint and unreasonable. On a better day, count your
blessings but be prepared, also, to share the results of your
counting. Be expectant, alert, hopeful. Gossip the gospel. Write
about your God moments in a journal, so that they can resource you at
the empty times. Most people don’t have news of extraordinary
miracles, but everyday graces that confirm the presence of loving God
who is working for our transformation can speak just as loudly. And
please, PLEASE don’t be afraid to share your own personal good
news…the gospel according to YOU.
When we did the NCD survey
together in the spring, it was notable how few people felt able to
share their glimpses of God, even with friends from this, their own
faith community. That's really sad – because I'm confident that if
you pause to think, you'll find examples of God's presence in the
ordinary and also, maybe particularly, when things are tough. Of
COURSE nobody wants to hear a bunch of platitudes that owe more to
the Hallmark Card school of theology than to any lived experience –
but there's plenty to say without resorting to a suggestion that life
is an experience of roses all the way once you begin to follow
Christ.
The path of my own
faith is definitely erratic…lots of troughs, days, even weeks, when
the whole thing seems to be no more than smoke and mirrors,a mad
delusion designed to offer comfort in a sometimes lonely and hostile
world...but also times when I have been completely overwhelmed by
God’s presence, his transformative action, the knowledge of his
love - or brought onto holy ground as someone else spoke of how
they’d experienced God at work in their life, their world. And,
most of the time, it seems that my story and my experience is enough.
Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things
unseen... And always, for me, there is that sense of aspiration that
pulls me onward…that sense of longing that fills the pages of the
Old Testament prophets…that straining forward to something
beautiful that is just beyond the horizon.
They desire a better
country…Yes, oh YES. And I will live by faith in the meantime…even
when that faith feels smaller than a mustard seed, until, by God’s
grace, I see for myself that place where we all belong. Let's travel
there together.
