“Now” Faith

This past Sunday, I actually sat through an utterly worthless sermon on Hebrews 11.  It wasn’t Hebrews 11’s fault.  Great chapter on what faith is and how faith is evidenced in the life of the believer.

The fault squarely rests on the shoulders of the preacher.  He chose to completely ignore the context in which Hebrews 11:1 appears (namely the 10th and 11th chapters of Hebrews).  Had he bothered to read just a few verses before and after, he would have quickly realized that the “now” in Hebrews 11:1 is a mere conjunction, not an imperative.  In other words, the emphasis in the verse is NOT on now, but is on the explanation of what faith is.  The word “now” in that verse could easily be replaced with “so.”

In fact, several translations don’t carry the word “now.”

New Living Translation

Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.

Contemporary English Version

Faith makes us sure of what we hope for and gives us proof of what we cannot see.

New Century Version

Faith means being sure of the things we hope for and knowing that something is real even if we do not see it.

The Message

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It's our handle on what we can't see.

New International Reader’s Version

Faith is being sure of what we hope for. It is being certain of what we do not see.

Worldwide English Version

If people believe God, then they know they have the things they hope to get. It is the proof of things we do not see.

Any confusion on your part as to what the point of Hebrews 11:1 is?  Granted, those excerpts are taken out of their context.  But even so, it’s obvious from the parallels that the point of the verse is “what faith is,” not that there is some special derivation of faith that is “now” faith.

Here’s a couple more translations.

Young’s Literal Translation

And faith is of things hoped for a confidence, of matters not seen a conviction,

And here’s the kicker…

Wycliffe

But faith is the substance of things that be to be hoped, and an argument of things not appearing. [Forsooth faith is the substance of things to be hoped, an argument, or certainty, of things not appearing.]

Can you imagine what the sermon would have been if this guy had read from the Wycliffe New Testament?

…And today’s sermon…

“But” Faith!  Do you have But Faith?  You need But Faith!  You must have But Faith!  You can’t make it through this life without But Faith!

Now, the pastor in question didn’t have a lisp, but imagine the comedic bonus if he did.  (By the way, for the diagrammatically challenged preachers in the readership, the “now” in the previous sentence is inconsequential.)

And apparently his complete lack of research and preparation wasn’t enough to keep the audience’s attention.  To that he added a diseloquent squashing of that 30-second thought into a 45 minute sermon, with frequent interjections of unrelated personal experiences, random scripture references, and deep guttural breathing unceremoniously forced down the gullet of the microphone – reminiscent of what you hear in mock-horror films when the predator is about to pounce.

My wife sat in disbelief.  I sat in amusement.  Neither left a stain.

Why do people go for this crap?  How did their lives ever get to the point where what we experienced passes as acceptable and worthwhile?  Or is this all they’ve ever known – have they never been exposed to genuine preaching and worship?

I realize I have some poignant observations on what we experienced.  But I’m also overwhelmed with compassion for people who attend these kinds of places and believe it’s real. 

Experiences like this convince me all the more of the imperative that we consistently live our lives in the image and likeness of Christ.  It’s that daily living that we do as we go out into the world which enables us to build relationships with those around us – those whom God has put in our path.  And it’s those relationships which provide a personal platform from which we can impart the gospel into the lives of those around us.

A Different Kind of Dead

My wife and I occasionally attend other churches – just to see what’s out there.

We both grew up in a Bapticostal-type church setting.  Teaching and preaching was full of solid fundamentals of the faith, and the environment was “alive.”  Today we regularly attend a Southern Baptist church.  The teaching and preaching are a little on the light side, and I would categorize the environment as “lively,” (full of activities) but not “alive” (breathing life into our lives).

This past Sunday we visited a little church that we thought might be closer to the Bapticostal environment in which we grew up.  We were wrong.

This joint was hopping – literally.  I have nothing against exuberance in worship.  I’ve been in services where I experienced genuine exuberance.  This felt like a seance – or rather, what I imagine a seance is like, since I’ve never been to one.

Here’s a quick recap.

There were two songs, each with two notes, each lasting 12-15 minutes.  It wasn’t worship; it was an exercise in repetitive humdrumming.  Each iteration ginned up more volume, activity and gyrations than the last.  It was like what you see in a movie where a group of African medicine men or Rastafarians repeat the same mantra over and over, beat the drums louder and louder, each time with more forcefulness than the last, until they’re all finally entranced in some hypnotic state.  That’s not God descending in power; that’s you working yourself up into a frenzy.

Sitting there, it hit me: Air Dancers.  You know, those inflatable things you see along the roadside in front of a new store.  A fan blows a bunch of hot air up a fabric shaft.  The shaft has “arms” about two-thirds of the way up, and a face painted near the top.  The rush of hot air causes the contraption to “dance.”  From a distance, they look life-like.  But the slightest real observation reveals that it’s just a bunch of hot air in a tube.  There’s no life there.

Air Dancers are a different kind of dead.  They give the appearance of life.  They even approximate liveliness well sometimes.  But there’s no life in them.

The same is true for Charasmaniac / Charaslunatic joints like the church we visited.  They’re devoid of true life, yet they offer the appearance and approximation of liveliness.  They are a different kind of dead.