Belief: Knowing That Produces Trust

Photo of The Rev. Canon Joe Behen by The Rev. Canon Joe Behen

Not long ago, I saw an article written by a man named Marc Cortez, who was trying to teach the trust-fall game to his daughter.  If you’re not familiar with this game, it involves one person simply closing their eyes, folding there arms, and falling backwards, trusting others in the group to catch them.  Cortez asked his daughter, “Do you trust me?” to which she said yes.  But as she was falling, at the last second, she would move her foot back to catch herself.  He asked again, “Don’t you know that I’ll catch you?” to which she assured him that she did.  But again, she caught herself at the last moment.  Professor Cortez concluded that his daughter knew that he would catch her, but she didn’t trust that he would.  “Knowledge,” he concluded, “isn’t the same as trust.”[1]

The writer of John’s gospel would agree with this assessment.  In today’s gospel passage, Jesus creates a play on words using two different senses of the word, “believe.”  The Greek word translated here as “believe” can mean either:

Either to know, or to trust.  The word appears no less than six times in our lesson.  But simply translating the word as “believe” across the board, ignores the nuance that John would have us sit with.

For example, hearing Jesus say, “Believe in me,” at this occasion of crisis, is a fairly lifeless rendering of this critical moment.  Imagine instead, the panicked disciples completely losing it, when Jesus tells them that they’ll soon be on their own.  In the midst of their hysteria, Jesus steps closer, maybe bracing Thomas and saying, “Trust me!”  Even his saying it, shakes them lose from their fear enough to continue listening.

Towards the end of today’s passage, this trust is shown to be the hinge, upon which hangs the disciples’ ability to continue Jesus’ ministry.  “…the one who trusts me will also do the works that I do.”  It is the foundation, then, of all Christian ministry.  There’s a lot riding upon our trust.

At some point last week I was directed to the blog of a graduating senior.  Colin was looking ahead to college, and thinking about the transition from youth to adult.  I was amazed at his self-awareness, describing his anxiety at leaving behind all that’s familiar.  But he also had a very clear sense, that staying where he was now, wasn’t an option.  He knew that he had to move forward.  In the process of working through all this in his article, Colin learned that it was trust in God that allowed to move, from knowing what he had to do, to actually doing it.  His trust in God was the catalyst, by which his knowing evolved into doing.[3]

Knowing is a necessary first step for all of us.  Without knowing why Jesus matters to us here and now, all our “doing” would be disconnected from this relationship.  We know, what has to be done.  We are to courageously love others without limits.  But this love is impossible to do, without trusting that God is with us, in our attempts to do it.  In the verses that came right before today’s reading from John, Jesus described his ministry with his followers: “I have set an example for you, that you also should do as I have done for you.  If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them.” So the subtlety in John’s use of a word that means “knowing” as well as “trusting,” is both intentional and instructive.  Knowing that produces doing - That is trust.

The question that haunts us, then, might be this: If we take a snapshot of our lives and see that are not in the process of doing Jesus’ ministry where we are, what does it say about our trust?  Have we put our foot back at the last minute?  Maybe we have clearly seen the risk in such trust, and let it abort our trust?

Well, we’re certainly right to know the risk.  Marc Cortez’s article about the trust fall, concludes with these questions: “Are you ready to close your eyes and fall back—placing yourself in God’s hands, trusting that he will catch you before you hit the ground?  That,” he concludes, “is faith.”  I might challenge his conclusion just a bit.  What if it’s not ok?  What about the cross?  What about today’s story of Stephen, the first martyr of the Church?  It seems that our trust in God is to go well beyond, simply trusting that God will make our way painless.  We may, in fact, hit the ground.  Trusting God enough to live our faith boldly, may hurt.  It may look and feel like complete failure.  But Jesus stands before us, as he stood before the disciples, effectively saying, “Yes, it may hurt.  But it is so worth it.  The trust that I ask, is worth any pain that could possibly overcome you.  Do you trust me?”  And he stands, waiting for our response.

Amen.

[1] Marc Cortez.  “Do You Trust Me?” from the blog of Western Seminary ( http://westernthm.wordpress.com/2011/03/16/do-you-trust-me/ ), accessed on 5/12/11
[2] Frederick William Danker and Walter Bauer.  Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament
[3] Colin Mansfield.  “On Turning 18, Fear, and Trust.”  From the blog site Ground Shaking: The Journey, Thoughts, and Musings of Colin Mansfield  (http://groundshaking.blogspot.com/2010/05/on-turning-18-fear-and-trust.html ), accessed on 5/12/11