Living in faith without fear
Based on Luke 23:33-43
When I was 12, my parents and I
went to see my brother performing. He was the rhythm guitarist in a
Christian rock band called ‘Cross Section.’ (Yes, this was in the 1970s.) I
think they only played one song, because there were a whole lot of other
acts on; we were at the monthly rally of a prominent evangelical youth
movement.
Then there was a speaker, who
told us we were all separated from God because we were sinners, and we would
be spending eternity in hell unless we accepted Jesus into our hearts as our
personal saviour.
I was stunned. I had considered
myself a follower of Jesus all my life. But I went to a very moderate
Presbyterian church, and I had never been given the hellfire and brimstone
treatment before. I was terrified by what I was hearing. And when the
speaker invited us to come forward if we wanted to invite Jesus into our
lives, I was the first to stand up.
Looking back, I would have been
an easy target. I already knew about Jesus, so the hard work had already
been done. I was just in a mainstream Protestant community, not a
fundamentalist evangelical one. And this was not a particularly happy time
of my life. I was a bit different from everyone else my age and I didn’t fit
in at school, I didn’t have a huge number of friends, I was very sensitive,
very stressed, easily upset, and my parents didn’t know what was wrong with
me. The only people who really seemed to understand me were my grandfather
and an older friend. I was very vulnerable at this time.
I followed the man’s call, went
forward, had a conversation with someone who was called a counsellor, and
doomed little me prayed the prayer that I was told to pray. Then I was told
I was saved.
Now some of you here may have had
conversion experiences like this that changed your lives. If so, I am not
trying to negate or belittle your journeys. I am only telling you what
happened to me.
I somewhat naively expected my
awkward life was suddenly going to get better, but that was not what
happened at all. My fear and anxiety actually got worse. I became very
concerned, because I thought everyone I knew who had not made the same
commitment I had made was destined for eternal damnation. I can remember
being at an appointment with my dentist, who I really liked, and feeling
very sad because I thought he was probably going to hell. I also tried to
convert people at school. Not surprisingly, my popularity there hit a new
low.
The fact that I was not feeling
any better - but in fact much worse - since I had made the detour from
mainstream Protestant to fundamentalist evangelical Christianity made me
wonder whether I had somehow got the formula wrong when I prayed that
prayer, so I prayed it again and again, waiting for the miracle cure.
At one stage, I even rashly
promised God that I would read seven chapters of the Bible every night.
Needless to say, that was rather a tall order, but I managed to get about as
far as the Second Book of Kings. But I was terrified of breaking my regime,
because I had made a promise to God, and I dreaded the consequences of
breaking a promise. To my great relief, I discovered some of the Psalms were
very short, and for many months, I read Psalm 120 through to Psalm 126 every
night, until I finally managed to let go of that particular millstone around
my neck I had made for myself.
Looking back, I was clearly very
troubled. But I have not yet told you the craziest thing I did. I had been
convinced that I was saved through my faith, because I believed in Jesus and
that he had died for my sins. Then, one day, I discovered the text from the
Gospel according to St Matthew, in which Jesus tells his followers that if
they have faith the size of a mustard seed, they could command mountains to
move.1 I contemplated the implications of this text for quite
some time afterwards. But it did not occur to me that Jesus might have been
using a rhetorical device to chide people for their disbelief. I took him
completely literally.
In the meantime, I had learned
best way to gain kudos and popularity in the youth movement I had become
immersed in was to bring people to Christ. The more the better. Evangelism
had become a sales contest. I didn’t seem to be any more popular or accepted
in this youth movement than I was at school. But if I could save a few
souls, people might like me a bit more. However, my attempts at evangelising
at school had been woeful. I had failed to make a single convert.
Drastic action was called for. I
needed to pull off something really spectacular, to show everyone that Jesus
was real and we all needed him.
Then I thought of something that
would surely do the trick. I commanded Mt Taranaki to get up and throw
himself into the sea. And I fully expected him to do this. But nothing
happened.
I was crestfallen. Clearly, I was
lacking in faith. That meant I wasn’t a true believer, I wasn’t a proper
Christian, and I would go to hell when I died. Either that or I would get
left behind during the rapture – which I had been told was imminent – and I
would be forced to receive the mark of the beast.
Looking back, I am amazed that I
remained in what I now know was a world of toxic fundamentalism for as long
as I did. It wasn’t until I was well into my teenage years that I had a
last-straw moment. I was at another one of the monthly night rallies I
mentioned earlier. And the speaker – they always had a speaker – was saying
that we must not listen to Village People, because they were ‘filthy
perverts’ (or words to that effect). He was almost seething with rage as he
spat his words out. And that was when I decided that if this was
Christianity, I didn't want to be part of it anymore. It would take me
twenty years to find my way back to the Church. But that’s another story
The reading from the Gospel
according to St Luke we heard this morning tells us about the two criminals
who are crucified on either side of Jesus. They are mentioned in all four
gospels, but this is the only place where there is any dialogue between
them. One of them derides Jesus for not saving himself, but the other is
penitent, Today, they are often referred to as the ‘bad thief’ and the ‘good
thief’ respectively. The good thief asks Jesus to remember him when he comes
into his kingdom and Jesus welcomes him in advance. Interestingly, Jesus
does not use the word heaven but Paradise (paradeisos in the original
Greek), which means a place of blessedness
Their names are not given, but
some apocryphal texts like the Gospel of Nicodemus name the bad thief as
Gestas and the good thief as Dismas respectively, and other names are used
in other traditions. And there are various apocryphal stories about them,
including Gestas being one of a band of robbers who attacked the Holy Family
while they were fleeing to Egypt, and Dismas rescuing them.
Dismas became known as St Dismas
when he venerated and his life is commemorated on the 25th of
March, which is also the Feast of the Annunciation, because of a Church
tradition that Jesus and he were crucified and died on the anniversary of
the Archangel Gabriel’s visit to Mary. St Dismas is the patron saint of
prisoners – especially those under sentence of death – and funeral
directors. If you know of my work with prisoners, especially those on death
row, it should come as no surprise to you that St Dismas is my favourite
saint.
In today’s reading, St Dismas
captures our attention because of his faith and courage when death is
imminent. But what exactly is faith? Dictionary definitions include,
“Complete trust or confidence in someone or something,” and “Strong belief
in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual conviction rather than
proof.”2 But
these really don’t go far enough.
The Greek word that is translated
as ‘faith’ is pistis. While it means faith, faithfulness, belief, or
trust, it implies that actions based on that trust will follow. And the two
cannot be separated. As the Letter of St James so wonderfully puts it:
14 What
good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not
have works? Can faith save you? 15If a brother or sister is naked and lacks
daily food, 16and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat
your fill’, and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good
of that? 17So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.4
Our faith must be put into
practice if we want to be who we claim to be. A few years ago, Pope Francis
said, “You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. That is how prayer
works.”4 We can also pray for the thirsty. But give them water.
Pray for the stranger. But welcome them. Pray for the sick. But help take
care of them and ensure they have access to proper health care. Pray for the
homeless and those who lack clothing . And help them find shelter. And we
can pray for those in prison. And visit them.
Faith also allows to ask
questions, and even doubts. Otherwise, it is not faith at all, but blind
acceptance. Remember Jesus had self-doubt when he was in anguish at
Gethsemane. He threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were
possible, the hour might pass from him.5
In more recent years, St Teresa
of Calcutta, formerly known as Mother Teresa, was criticised when it was
revealed she had expressed doubts. But I do not believe there is a person of
faith who has never experienced uncertainty. In fact, I do not consider it
is possible to fully engage with one’s faith without having at least one
crisis in one’s life.
St Dismas is dying on a cross
when we encounter him today. He is not in a position to go and do the works
that come with living in faith. But, considering the position he is
literally in, I think we can excuse him.
Having faith involves accepting
we do not yet have all the answers. We will still have doubts and questions,
and we would not be human if we did not. But when we accept these instead
trying to suppress them, we can live in faith without fear.
Darryl Ward
20 November 2022
1
Matthew 17:20
2
https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/faith
3 James 2:14-17
4
http://www.inspiringquotes.us/author/3767-pope-francis
All Bible references are from the New Revised
Standard Version (NRSV) unless stated otherwise.