My Schizophrenic Faith.

In a previous article, I asked lots of questions regarding faith, which I hope was a beneficial glance at piece of Christianity we know surprisingly little about. And as helpful as questions can be, I hope to offer some answers, even if they might immediately seem strange. My hope is that we would experience the freedom of the gospel–the true gospel–which declares with joy that Jesus is all and everything for us. I write in hopes that we might see that the gospel is better news than we say it is. If you haven’t read the article, you may find it here.

In hopes that I’m not alone, I confess that it is not infrequently that I’ve seriously questioned why I became a follower of Jesus, or that I did at all. I’ve wandered through very dark nights of doubt, uncertain that my motives were actually pure when I “accepted Christ” for the first time. Or the next time. Or the next time. (That’s so revealing about us: we, who proclaim with pride that if we place our faith in Christ we are saved once and for all, are nervously “accepting Christ” again and again and again.) And this seems to be the common experience of so many Christians. If we’re honest, we know and admit, with nausea, that it is because in dark rooms of our psyche we’ve sought to suppress the haunting questions: how true was my faith, really? am I actually believing in Jesus for selfless reasons, or am I deceptively self-seeking? how can I know that my trusting and believing and hoping really worked, was really enough, was really true and pure and right?

If you’re anything like me, you know that anxiety-ridden place, and it scares you to think how tattered and riddled with holes your faith may truly be. Let me cut to the chase: your faith, and mine, is unstable, uncertain, and unreliable, and I would not stake the weight of eternity on the integrity of my schizophrenic faith. It is sandy at its foundations and it is selfish in its motives.  Sure, a mustard seed will move a mountain. But let me ask you: how much of your eternity are you willing to stake on that seed of yours?

How much? Are you really that confident in your own faith?

Stop. Think about that.

The sooner we embrace the failure of our personal faith, we may begin to turn and see that the gospel is wholly and truly beautiful, that it is good news, that it is freedom for the slave: Jesus has believed for you.

Let this sink in.

You’ve let go of the idea that you can somehow accomplish or earn your salvation by works. But understanding that faith is not merely something you have but something  you do–believe, trust, hope–have you been released from the notion that salvation is not upon your faith, but his?

Jesus has done it all. 

Jesus has done it all.

Jesus has done it all.

This is the gospel. Breathe. Jesus has done it all.

God loves you so utterly and completely that he has given himself for you in Jesus Christ his beloved Son, and has thereby pledged his very being as God for your salvation. . . Jesus Christ died for you precisely because you are sinful and utterly unworthy of him, and has thereby already made you his own before and apart from your ever believing in him.

The real believer is Christ and we live by and out of the human faith of Christ. . . Our faith is the knowledge, given to us in the Spirit, that he has accomplished our salvation in his person and work and that we are saved purely by his unconditional grace.

To repent and believe in Jesus Christ and commit myself to him on that basis means that I do not need to look over my shoulder all the time to see whether I have really given myself personally to him, whether I really believe and trust him, whether my faith is at all adequate, for in faith it is not upon my faith, my believing or my personal commitment that I rely, but solely upon what Jesus Christ has done for me, in my place and on my behalf, and what he is and always will be as he stands in for me before the face of the Father. That means that I am completely liberated from all ulterior motives in believing or following Jesus Christ, for on the ground of his vicarious human response for me, I am free for spontaneous joyful response and worship and service as I could not otherwise be.

- T. F. Torrance (in Incarnation and Mediation)

Advertisement