Do I have that Kind of Faith? I Don't Know....

It was Christmas morning 1980.  I was seventeen years old but I remember it in HD with surround sound.  I vividly remember each agonizing step of the basement stairs that my mother crawled down to reach the Christmas tree. I recall the rest of my family standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up while my little sisters cried.  I was pleading with my mother to let me carry her down the steps and end the pain but she resiliently and somewhat angrily said, "No!  I can do it!"  There were thirteen steps and it took about half an hour but she made it to the bottom, sat there, and cried.  That was the last Christmas we spent with her.  The cancer that started in her lungs had spread to her bones, her eye, and her brain. She was a strong woman and I admire her courage and her fortitude.  There came a day however when she became weary and gave up.

What if I had to suffer this kind of pain not in the grip of cancer but for the Gospel of Jesus Christ; could I keep moving?  It seems like a daunting proposition.

I look back at martyred followers of Jesus Christ, from those in the New Testament to those on foreign mission fields today and wonder how they had the strength to carry on until the end.  Paul reminded us of the struggles he endured for the Gospel:

"Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches."

Paul was eventually beheaded in Rome.

Sanctus, in the first century, suffered for the Gospel:

"He suffered many torments devised by men. When these men could do no more, they fastened hot plates of brass to the most tender parts of his body. He withstood all the suffering, but his body was one continued wound, mangled and shrivelled, that had entirely lost the form of man to the external eye. Again, he passed through the tortures. These included the strokes of the scourge, the draggings and lacerations from the beasts, other tortures demanded by the audience, and the iron chair upon which his body was roasted. Other tortures followed until he died."

We live a pretty cozy Christianity these days.  We worry about silly things and argue about silly thing but what if Jesus asked us to walk a road like Sanctus or Paul.  What would we do?  What kind of faith did these men have to endure the pain, fight the fear, and not deny the Lord Jesus?  Was it a weekend faith?  Was it a faith that was spoken of or one that was lived out?  Where did it come from and how can I have that kind of faith?  I want that kind of faith.  It scares me to even ask for it because it seems like an invitation to suffering.  I don't want to suffer.  Who does?  But I think that one day as we stand before the Lord (the Bible says to whom every knee shall bow) we will understand what our lives really looked like.  We'll see clearly what our priorities were, what our aspirations were, what our desires were, and how much we truly walked with Christ.  So while Paul spent his days fearing for his life in spreading the Gospel and Sanctus' was dragged through the streets I wonder what it looks like when we bicker over which hymns we're going to sing or what color the sanctuary carpet is going to be.  I wonder what it looks like when we spend more time in church than on the streets.  I wonder what it looks like when we Jesus is a bracelet we wear and not a God we worship.  I wonder. 

Today I am a little weary and I have never been flogged, shipwrecked, or stoned. Today I pray for courage, for strength, for humility, for endurance, and for a Word from God.  I pray that God gives me a fresh filling of his Spirit so that I can do what he wants and not what I want.  The Word tells me that with God we can do anything, and if God is for us who can be against us, and all things together work for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose.  I'm glad.  So today I trust that God will lead us all the way to the finish line with just as much strength as we need.  

I'm not sure if I wrote this today for you or for me. . . maybe both.

Peace and faith,

David