Tuesday, October 23, 2018

The Paradox of Faith



“And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.”

Recently, I finished reading Søren Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, a book about faith in the story of Abraham and Isaac. While the entire book is an attempt to articulate the nature of faith, Kierkegaard concedes that faith is fundamentally paradoxical, illogical, and “begins precisely where thinking leaves off.” Writing under the pseudonym Johannes de Silentio (John of the Silence), he stands in wonder at Abraham’s faith and describes that faith is better learned through silent observation rather than dialectical discourse. 

I resonate with Kierkegaard’s writings greatly. For me, much of this past year living overseas was rediscovering what it means to live by faith—rediscovery enabled through the friendship of a Tibetan brother. After living and working alongside him this past year, I have concluded the word that best sums up his life is absurd. Very few people live the way that he lives. A couple years ago, he felt the call to establish a school in his community where children and their families could learn about their Creator. Starting any new venture from scratch entails much risk and courage, especially in a country where such undertaking is illegal. After leaving his job, he began to pour his all into the school amid much scorn from his immediate family and church community. 

Nothing is ever safe when it comes to this brother, and his actions could be easily misconstrued as impractical, irresponsible, and imprudent. But he sees clearly past the illusion that life is in his control. He is deaf to those that say, “Life would be so much more simple if you would just be more practical with your decisions.” He has given up everything to follow the Lord, and knows that it is worth it, even when he cannot see. The brother’s absurdity is grounded in the certainty that God is a good Father who will take care of him and all his needs. In the complete surrender and unswerving trust, I see an abundant freedom.

According to Kierkegaard, the brother has made the movements of faith. Kierkegaard describes faith as infinite resignation (usually of what is most precious to us), but at the same time, absolute confidence that whatever is given up will be restored on the strength of the absurd. Abraham was willing to offer Isaac to God, but at the same time, remained confident that he would get Isaac back. The brother did not hesitate to lay down all forms of security to go after what God had put on his heart, all the while holding onto the assurance that God would bring the school to fruition.

The paradox of faith entails both letting go and clinging onto. Too often, only one aspect is emphasized. Letting go without clinging onto turns faith into wishful thinking, because nothing is really expected or asked for. Clinging onto without letting go often results in self-centered demands and agendas. True faith is two-fold: I surrender and relinquish control, but at the same time, I am absolutely confident that God will be faithful to His promises. Sell everything, leave your nets, and come follow me. 

Observing this brother live by faith has stirred within me a jealousy to experience the same freedom that his life of faith entails. I have realized that so much of my life is an attempt to control things, to play things safely and thereby maintain my own security. I often function out of psuedo-faith: I will pray, but at the very moment of prayer, I find myself busy planning my own kind of answer. The temptation to make things happen by my own strength or by worldly methods is strong, and this double-mindedness makes true faith impossible. There is no letting go or clinging onto; only fear, doubt, and self-reliance. 

If there is anything I have learned this year, it is this: there is no straggling the line when it comes to faith. Either I choose to live absolutely by faith, or I don’t. The brother’s life is marked by a unique simplicity. He has put his hand to the plow and has not looked back. Complexity and overthinking causes hesitation, and hesitation is the death of faith. I now know more clearly that if I choose to follow Christ, I have to risk everything in order to gain everything. I must let go of the visible supports which will one day fail, and gamble everything on the invisible. 

When I choose to not live by faith, I deny God a chance to show me His boundless love. In living completely by faith, I let God be who He is: Provider, Deliverer, and the God of Miracles. I have witnessed the Lord faithfully provide for this brother and his family time and time again, without fail. The God in the Bible has truly been the God of his own life. I am filled with a jealousy to claim this truth even more confidently for myself.