Leap of Faith and Love

Last Sunday, a seventy-year-old shared with me some of her longstanding questions about religion and faith. She is presently beset with physical ailments, and finds it painful to turn them over in her mind. Hers has been quite a long journey, and fearing that it may end abruptly, she asks: ‘What does it take to be saved? Can I simply have faith in Jesus and be saved?’ While this is in itself a worthy act of surrender that will be pleasing to the Lord our God, there are a few nuances to be considered in this regard.

Quite remarkably, today’s Readings point exactly to what it takes to be saved. And this is no coincidence, for He who feeds the birds in the blue sky and the worms in the garden soil, always provides the answers we seek. And as I get down to writing this blogpost, I hear in the background this Merle Haggard song, which I dedicate to all who are on the journey of faith –

I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The son of God discloses.

 And he walks with me and he talks with me
And he tells me I am his own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known.

 He speaks and the sound of his voice
Is so sweet, the birds hush their singing
And the melody that he gave to me
Within my heart is ringing.

 Let us therefore remember that we are never alone; God is with us and speaks to us at all times, as he did to Isaiah of old. In fact, in the First Reading (Is 50: 5-9), the Prophet says, ‘The Lord has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious. I turned not backward… For the Lord God helps me; therefore, I have not been confounded; therefore, I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near.’

Indeed, whoever trusts in the Lord has nothing to fear. We may be surrounded by the snares of death and anticipate the anguish of the tomb; we may be in the throes of sorrow and distress, yet when we call on the Lord’s name, He will deliver us. He is gracious, compassionate; He protects the simple hearts and saves the helpless. The psalm antiphon therefore invites us to sing with confidence: ‘I will walk in the presence of the Lord in the land of the living.’ We are called to be ever conscious of and grateful for the Lord’s presence in the humdrum of our lives; He knows and cares for our every need. No wonder the Psalmist is all praise for the Lord’s mercies.

Even so, often we are ungrateful, as the Jews were, to Jesus. He who had come down from Heaven and wrought signs or miracles, as expected, was rejected by His own. ‘Who do men say that I am?’ He asked. What is our answer to that question that Jesus asks in the Gospel today (Mk 8: 27-35)? Have we have built up a personal relationship with Jesus, as He journeys with us, quietly bearing all our burdens? Only Peter answered correctly – ‘You are the Christ’ – yet when the Master spoke of suffering and rejection and death on the Cross and of rising from the dead, Peter rebuked Him. And Jesus was quick to dub him ‘Satan’, whom he ordered to get behind Him.

This was the first time Jesus was presenting Himself as the Suffering Messiah. There was ample evidence that He was indeed the Son of God, whose horizon was none other than the heavenly kingdom. But the people did not quite understand; they wanted Jesus to care about their earthly kingdom and do away with the Roman subjugation of their nation. As a result, Jesus both disappointed the Jews and angered the Romans. He taught the disciples that the Son of Man would have to suffer many things – and so would those who wished to follow Him.

‘Whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake and the Gospel’s will save it’ can easily be put down as one of the greatest of the Kingdom paradoxes. Here is how worldly logic does not align with God’s wisdom; here is also how our faith does not align with reason. Not that they are intrinsically antithetical. Faith and reason are compatible, and so are science and religion, because truth is but one. Sadly, it is our egos that upset the apple cart; while in faith, we put our hope and trust in God, in reason we seem to trust more in our own powers, and only belatedly realise our folly.

Is Faith alone, then, our salvation? St James in the Second Reading (2: 14-18) states: ‘Faith by itself, if it has not works, is dead.’ Indeed, the Church rejects the ‘faith alone’ proposition, meaning that intellectual faith cannot save us. One needs to cooperate with God’s grace. Rather, our hearts have to move too. And this stirring will ensure that all that we do is out of love: corporal works of mercy[1] and the spiritual works of mercy[2]. That is to say, our faith must be wrapped up in love (charity or supernatural love of God). That is the right leap to take, and the time is now!

[1] Feeding the hungry; giving water to the thirsty; clothing the naked; sheltering the homeless; visiting the sick; visiting the imprisoned, or ransoming the captive; burying the dead.

[2] Instructing the ignorant; counselling the doubtful; admonishing the sinners; bearing patiently those who wrong us; forgiving offences; comforting the afflicted; praying for the living and the dead.