In the name of the Risen Jesus. Amen.
“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Though the Gospels were written down nearly 2,000 years ago, I’ve often thought these words are addressed directly to us, which is pretty neat. In the rest of Scripture, we read things that were said to people a long time ago; but here, Jesus is talking to us, sort of like when an actor breaks the third wall and speaks directly the audience. “Blessed are you who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
One of the biggest conundrums of faith is the question of divine hiddenness – why is it that God is not more quantifiable and observable? Yes, I can give all of the proper theological responses about “quantifiable” being a category mistake when it comes to God; we can talk about the interplay between love and freewill; or we can remember that God is bigger than our senses and minds. But, still, we want to know why faith is not a bit more obvious, why is it that some struggle so much with belief, why is belief in God in the intellectual category of “take it or leave it”?
Based on the Gospel text from John, there’s a hymn that is pretty much sung every time this passage is read: “We walk by faith and not by sight.” St. Paul writing to Corinthians says, “We look not at things which are seen, but at things which are not seen.” And the book of Hebrews gives a definition of faith that many have used: “the assurance of things not seen.” But why? Why does faith leap require a leap, why is blindness where we start?
I don’t have the answer. That’s a question to take up with God when we are face to face. So instead of musing on things that are beyond my knowledge or intellect, I’m interested in exploring this Easter beatitude. We’re familiar with the more common “Blessed are the meek, the poor, and the hungry,” and this is an additional beatitude that Jesus gives us. And what most preachers will say about the Beatitudes is that they are not if-then propositions. It’s not that we become meek in order to inherit the earth, nor is it that if we just believe the unbelievable that we will have an unshakeable sense of faith, hope, or joy. No, what the preacher will likely say is that the Beatitudes are more description than prescription. Faith is not the result of blind trust, but rather the opposite.
Consider the Beatitude about the hungry being fed – the food doesn’t come because we are hungry, rather it is the hunger that allows us to fully receive the food. The same is true for faith – we come to believe not because we just ignore doubts, avoid asking questions, or cross our fingers when we say the Creed. No, instead it is our faith that allows us have confidence and hope in things like the Sacraments, or Resurrection, or the Holy Spirit.
On this point we have to be very clear about what “faith” is. If we miss this, the whole thing falls apart. Faith is not about what we think, and belief is not a synonym for religious ideas, doctrines, or opinions. Faith is not a noun, meaning it is not a thing that we have, or don’t. No, faith and belief are verbs; they are actions. And the definition of the verbs of faith and belief is grounded in relationship. Faith is a relationship with Jesus, and the same thing is true of belief. This is exactly how these words are used throughout the Gospel. The word “believe” is all over the passage from John and it’s how Jesus describes the relationship of trust and reliance with him.
When we apply this definition of faith as relationship to this Easter Beatitude, we get something like “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet are connected to Jesus.” It is our connection to Jesus that allows us to be people of faith, hope, and love. Those blessings come from Jesus, they aren’t the prerequisite for being his followers. Once we are connected to Jesus, Resurrection, abundance, generosity, compassion, peace, and forgiveness become possibilities that would, otherwise, be impossible. So many people get this reversed though – they assume they have to think certain things in order to come to Jesus or be a part of the Church. But it’s just the opposite, it is through our relationship to Jesus that everything else follows.
So as you are thinking about your own sense of faith, or inviting a friend to come and see what’s going on here at St. Luke’s, remember that it’s always about Grace. We come to Jesus not because we are certain about all things or because we affirm all aspects of the Creed; no, we come because Jesus has issued an invitation to us: “Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest; This is my Body, given for you, take and eat; Come and follow me into the green pastures and along the still waters of God’s love.” In responding to the gracious and loving invitation of our Risen Lord, we encounter the blessings of being connected to his peace, his mercy, and his love.
Sometimes people will say things like “I’m just not sure that I think that Jesus really rose from the dead.” Or, “I don’t understand how I’m supposed to think that little wafer of bread is the body of a guy who lived 2,000 years ago.” Or, “I interpret the miracle stories of the Bible to be metaphors, not historical events.” Those sorts of struggles are real, valid, and nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about. But they are the wrong struggles to put our energy into. Instead of trying to make ourselves think certain things, we’d do better to invest that time in praying the Jesus Prayer, or serving at Rowan Helping Ministries, or reading Scripture. We do well to focus on getting closer to Jesus instead of getting closer to something that we might call “the right beliefs.”
One of the more compelling descriptions of what this sort of resolute commitment to a relationship looks like comes from one of the best scenes in all of CS Lewis’ Narnia series. This is in the sixth book, The Silver Chair. Eustace and Jill find themselves in Narnia, having been summoned by Aslan. Aslan is a lion who is the Christ-figure in the novels. They’re in Narnia to help find Prince Rilian, the true heir of the aging King Caspian, and soon link up with Puddleglum, a Narnian marsh creature who accompanies them on their adventures.
They make their way into the Underland – a dark and subterranean world ruled by a witch. She’s kidnapped the prince and put him under a spell and intends to use him to launch an invasion of Narnia. When they find the prince, he’s in a trance-like state, under the magic of the witch and forgotten his true identity. But he’s been freed from the silver chair that he’s been tied up to, and the witch knows that if Eustace, Jill, and Puddleglum take him away, her spell will wear off and her plans will be foiled.
So she starts to work her magic on them. Narnia doesn’t belong in the category of children’s fantasy, it’s theology. And the sort of magic that the witch uses isn’t the sort of magic that can only be found in fairytales. No, it’s a spell that is cast all around us. The witch uses gaslighting and deception to make our heroes question their sanity and their senses. She asks questions like “But how do you know that,” “Couldn’t you be misremembering what you think you saw,” and “How do you explain that?” She’s making them focus on the trees while ignoring the forest. Through empty philosophy, sowing seeds of suspicion, and outright lies she is able to make them call into question their relationship with Aslan.
Friends, this is same spell cast on us by advertisements and politicians. They conscript us into doing their bidding by making us forget who we are as the beloved and redeemed children of God. They have us fight their fights for them by making us question what our true needs and values are. They attempt to lull us into a trance-like state of obedience by constantly giving us something to lust after, or be anxious about, or a group to view as our enemy. But, beloved, a relationship with Jesus, faith in Jesus, is the antidote to break the spell. This is what Easter is all about – when God released us from the powers of Sin and Death so that we can receive the abundance and blessedness of life that God intends for us.
I think, and hope, that most of us would say that Jesus is our anchor, that Jesus is our foundation, that Jesus is our guide. Think about all of the spells that are cast on us – they never lead us toward Jesus, but nearly always away. Influencers and advertisers aren’t lifting up the compelling examples of Jesus’s mercy, compassion, or sacrifice. Politicians, and particularly those in power, are so often sowing division and spewing cruelty that is the antithesis of Jesus and have normalized lying and meanness. As a people, even as people of faith, we so easily trust what we read in the news more than what Jesus has taught us to be true. This is a part of the reason why I’ve had us start praying the Prayer attributed to St. Francis weekly – we need to be reminded of the life-giving and holy alternative way of Jesus: that “it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”
In The Silver Chair, it’s a relationship with Aslan that breaks the spell and leads to liberation. Puddleglum gives this speech: “Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things – trees, sun, moon, stars, and even Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say, in that case, is that the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only one. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one…. But our play world licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan. I’m going to live like a Narnian even if there isn’t any Narnia.” And with that, the witch's magic begins to wear off and all is made well.
Beloved, Jesus is the interesting thing about the Christianity. Jesus is the at the center of our mission, purpose, and identity. But there are a lot of forces that try to distract us and make us cynical about that. The world has a vested interest in making it hard to believe, to be in a relationship with Jesus. Last Sunday, on Easter, at the close of worship we sang the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah, and it was grand. The part where we sang “The kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord and his Christ and he shall reign for ever and ever” jumped out at me. Indeed, at Easter, the kingdom of this world is undone and Death’s spell on us is broken. But these powers and principalities do not give up without a fight.
This is why we need Church, liturgy, Creeds, and Sacraments – they remind us of what is ultimately good, and true, and beautiful. They help us to focus on Jesus instead of the enchanting lies and deceptions of our culture. They help us to say, “I’m going to live like a Narnian even if there is no Narnia.”
To be clear, CS Lewis believed in Narnia – meaning that he believed in God, Jesus, and heaven. His point, and my point, is not that we blindly think the unthinkable and jettison logic or questions. Instead, it’s an acknowledgement that some things are truer than the categories of fact and fiction. Some things cannot be reduced down to facts and figures. Some things are more real than reality itself.
The reason why we’re here this morning is that we’ve been drawn here. There is something about Jesus that is just so beautiful, captivating, and true that we just can’t ignore him. We might not be able to explain it, and that’s okay. Maybe the vision of Jesus welcoming the children and the outcasts inspires you. Perhaps stories of Jesus feeding the hungry, healing the sick, forgiving the guilty, and raising the dead is too compelling, interesting, and wonderful for us to ignore. Even without evidence for it, if you just know that Dame Julian is right, that because of the love of Jesus that “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well,” then embrace that and go all-in. Knowing Jesus connects us to so much grace, beauty, and peace that if you want to believe it, do it. Put your whole faith and trust in his love. Even if you can’t prove or see Narnia, live like a Narnian. Follow the Risen Jesus. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
