I have to confess. When I first read the lessons for this week, I hung my head. “More stories about getting called to go out and do hard things! I’m tired of preaching about change, God!” I sighed. Not long ago, we dealt with Abram and Sarai’s courageous journey at our first parish retreat. Remember? In Lent, we discussed Richard Rohr’s book Falling Upward and what it means to follow a crucified Lord. As a parish, we talk all the time now about the challenges involved in experiencing life-altering transformation as a community. We all know that change is happening. We all know, too, what we’re supposed to respond when God says “GO!” But that doesn’t make the going any easier, does it?
Our Gospel and our second lesson just seem to reinforce God’s call to bold faith. Paul lifts up the faith of Abraham as our Christian example. The apostle Paul praises an irrational faith that hopes against hope, even in the face of death. Then, in example piled upon example, our Gospel echoes the same boldness. We see how Matthew gets up from his tax booth without a second thought, changing his life on a dime to follow Jesus. We see Jesus sharing meals with the most outcast and despised members of society, not caring what others think of him. We see a respected religious leader daring to oppose public opinion and seek healing from this itinerant preacher for a daughter already dead. We see a hemorrhaging woman who unabashedly charges through a group of men to touch Jesus in her unclean state. She publicly dares to break both purity laws and social custom.
The saving, healing faith that Jesus commends in our Gospel isn’t about reciting a creed, is it? It’s not about “believing six impossible things before breakfast,” as Lewis Carroll so famously wrote. It’s not saying a certain prayer, or going to church every Sunday, or even being “nice people.” It’s a faith that involves taking action, giving of one’s heart and life, putting oneself on the line, making oneself vulnerable to public scorn. It is bold faith. Courageous faith. “Audacious faith,” one commentator calls it.[1] I looked up the definition of “audacity,” and it refers bucking the status quo. It is the bravery to do something that would offend others.
Oh my. Does Jesus really want us to charge out there and start offending people? Surely not?! My mind immediately went to all those “audacious Christians” I don’t like: The ones who dare to tell others that they’re going to hell; the ones who boldly knock on my door and ask if I’ve been “saved;” the news clips of the Westboro Church picketing funerals and spewing hatred; the boldly self-righteous Duggar family I learned about this week in a horrifying Amazon documentary; the White Christian Nationalists audaciously and successfully infiltrating American society. Indeed, when I googled “audacious faith,” dozens upon dozens of web pages came up, all produced by Evangelical Christians. I read a tribute this week to the late Rev. Pat Robertson, leader of the evangelical “700 Club,” who died a few days ago. A Christian Broadcasting Network co-worker wrote: "I believe Pat's legacy centers on ... his audacious faith. It's what led him to do foolish things in the eyes of the world like starting a Christian broadcasting ministry with no experience, little support and barely any finances."[2]
While I don’t agree with the theology of Pat Robertson or the Evangelical Right, I have to admit that they do have a faith that takes risks, a faith that is fearless, a faith that gives all that it has to spread their message through the media and through carefully curated social networks. And I have to ask: Why don’t we?
Psychology researcher Brene Brown has written a great deal about courage in books like Daring Greatly and the Courage to Lead. One of her tenets is that courage and vulnerability are inescapably linked. According to Brown, without the willingness to be vulnerable--to “fail” in the eyes of the world, to persist when things are difficult--then courage isn’t possible. For Brown, courage is showing up and being seen, even when we have no control over the outcome. She describes this kind of courage with the image of “entering the arena.”
In her own work, she refuses to engage with or accept criticism from anyone who hasn’t also entered the arena, from anyone who merely calls out their critiques from the safety of the stands. Historically, we Episcopalians and other mainline Christians have often tended to call out critiques of Evangelicals from the safety of the stands. We haven’t dared to enter the arena ourselves, hunkering down instead in our cozy assigned balcony seats and belting out criticism.
What does audacious faith look like for Christians who believe that God is Love? For Christians who value the dignity of every human being? For Christians who want to embrace rather than condemn? It doesn’t involve being intentionally offensive. It does mean leaving all that we know and hold dear in order to become a blessing to the world, like Abram and Sarai did, with no human guarantee over the outcome. It means showing more heart-felt interest in those who are outside of our group than those who are in it, like Jesus did. It means being vulnerable enough to look the fool in reaching out for healing and in offering healing, like the folks in our Gospel today. It means entering the arena with Christian siblings with whom we disagree, in order to stand up for Love with authenticity and courage.
Here at St. Ambrose, we are starting to stick our toes in the arena. We had about ten parishioners show up last Sunday to stand against gun violence with Mom’s Demand Action in Boulder. We wrote notes to thank the politicians who stand up for gun safety. But just as importantly, there were enough of us there in our orange shirts that local government leaders and secular activists saw a sizable Christian group who cares enough about children’s safety to come out on a rainy Sunday afternoon. Who knows what the activists will invite us to do next? As Kristy said, “It’s all about connection!”
We love to socialize and eat together here at St. Ambrose. This spring, with our Faithful Foodie groups, we've taken our fellowship out “into the arena.” We gather at small local restaurants and surprise our servers with lavish, unexpected tips. We show our loving, friendly faces, too, on social media, where everyone can see us.
Speaking of social media, I started making a few of what I consider really dumb spiritual Instagram Reels this Lent. I don’t like making these. I don’t like the way I look or sound. I don’t like that they aren’t “perfect.” But yesterday I received a notification that one of them has been viewed one thousand times. Seriously! Maybe it’s not all about how great I look or how smart I sound, after all...
And, of course, today many of us are in downtown Boulder hosting a booth at the Pride Fest. Standing with our LGBTQ+ siblings at this time in history is an act of courage, as well as love. We’ve already lost a four-hundred-dollar sign on South Boulder Road to theft because we attached a Pride flag to it. Our Pride booth in the park today could be met with hostility on several fronts. Or, we might just meet others who will invite us to get more involved in “Love for All and All for Love,” as our T-shirts read. God might say, “Go!” You never know.
After all, like Faith, Love can be audacious, too.
[1] Found at https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2023/6/3/go-salts-commentary-on-second-sunday-after-pentecost.
[2] Heather Sells, “CBN News Team Shares Personal Stories,” June 9, 2023. https://www2.cbn.com/news/us/cbn-news-team-shares-personal-stories-about-pat-robertsons-life-changing-impact
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