For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law.
It’s interesting, and comforting to me that our daily celebrations include people on opposite sides of things. Martin Luther is one example. During his day, we fought vehemently against things he saw as wrong in the church. The pureness of his convictions, and his prophetic voice – pointing out things that were not right – is admirable and worthy of remembering. As a faith tradition that celebrates the middle way, we also commemorate some of the people he was fighting against, both within the continental church, frequently referred to as papists, and in commemorating the people in England, who saw a space for God’s people between the papists and the Luther followers. It’s in that crucible of conflicting beliefs that Anglicanism was forged.
One of Luther’s greatest battles was that of ‘indulgences’, where church leaders were extracting payment from people, so that they might be right with God. Luther rightly pointed out that it’s not what people do – not following the Law – that makes them right with God. It’s faith.
As a deacon, as someone who spends a lot of time ‘doing’, I’ve always struggled with this concept. Of course it’s about what we do. It’s about loving our neighbor. But I think I’m beginning to see that it’s not. We cannot ‘do’ or perform enough acts to be deemed worthy. That’s not what makes us right with God. It’s faith.
To be clear, I’m not saying that someone can, at the end of a violent and vile life, simply and perhaps disingenuously claim a new found belief in God, and magically all is right with the world. But neither can someone do all the right things their whole life, without faith, and be good with the world.
Here’s the part I’m beginning to realize. The faith isn’t my action. It’s not a belief I can forge. If my current home drama has taught me anything, it’s that my faith does not come from within me. I can say this with conviction because there have been times when I had nothing. No love, no emotions, no rest, no empathy, no understanding. And yet, I had faith that all of that would return. I had faith that everything would, in fact, end up as it’s supposed to. My faith carries me through some of those darker times. And it absolutely feels like a gift from somewhere else; it’s not something I can dig deep and find.
So when I read the idea that we are justified by faith, and not works, it’s not so much about the difference between my thoughts and my actions. It’s not that my actions or my works are discounted, in exchange for my thoughts or beliefs or faith. Rather, I’m understanding this section as a different kind of shift. Not a shift from my actions to my thoughts, but from me to God.
God’s actions and God’s gift of grace to me is immensely better than any measly actions or works I can do. In fact, my actions are discounted – rendered insignificant, compared to God’s gift of my faith. If that gifted faith results in actions on my part, all the better. But it’s the faith that matters. Not the acts.
This morning, I’m thinking about how to increasingly see and appreciate God’s gift of faith in me. That I remain faithful to God in the midst of my personal drama is nothing less than miraculous, and nothing of my doing. And with this amazing gift of faith, I can in turn act. I can love and care for my sick loved one. I can love and care for people in the world who are hurting.
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