Truly I Tell You, I Have Not Found Anyone with Such Faith

This might sound strange coming from someone who has studied theology, but I’m going to let you in on a little secret: some of the most insufferable and off-putting Christians are theologians. It’s not that there’s anything inherently wrong with being a theologian or studying theology, but the danger lies in the fact that for many of us, as our academic knowledge increases, the childlike faith that Jesus himself encouraged us to embrace decreases. Pride is almost an inevitability, as we become full of ourselves, acting as if we’ve discovered something through our studies that nobody else has known before. I’ve got news for you: there’s nothing new under the sun.

Here’s another secret, as a student of history: historians always put their own biased slant on things. If ten historians study the exact same event, all ten will paint a completely different picture based on what they each want people to take away from that event. I’ve written before about my abhorrence for the historical-critical method of scriptural interpretation because it is little more than Biblical editorializing. This is not to say that historical analysis of Biblical history is without merit, as that would be absurd, given the sheer amount of information we’ve been made privy to over the centuries as a result of these studies. However, we ought to be very suspicious when Biblical historians start to undermine or look to “dismantle” centuries of Tradition in order to make the Bible into something that it isn’t in order to suit their social and political viewpoints or agendas.

All of this is to say that today, I witnessed with my own two eyes faith the likes of which I have never seen before. In Matthew 8, Jesus is amazed by the Roman centurion’s faith that Jesus could heal the centurion’s servant merely by speaking the words of healing from afar. Jesus says to him, “Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone in Israel with such faith.” The centurion is not a Christ-follower; he isn’t even a Jew. He’s a Roman—a member of a patriarchal, oppressive, hierarchal system of colonizing occupation, and he’s a law enforcement officer of sorts to boot. Jesus doesn’t condemn him. Jesus doesn’t shame him or ridicule him. He marvels at him. He says this man has greater faith than anyone in Israel, which is essentially to say that this man has greater faith than anyone Jesus has ever seen. I saw faith like this today.

My wife’s cousin passed away this week at the age of 38 after suffering his entire life from cerebral palsy. “T” was wheelchair-bound for his entire adult life and required constant 24/7 care from his parents and from healthcare professionals. It is safe to say that “T” did not have an easy life. It is also safe to say that his parents also have not had an easy life. As St. John Paul II referenced often, and as Pope Francis continues to point out, we live in a throwaway culture and this shamefully applies to human lives. In societies around the world—and we’re not exempt from this in the United States—people like “T” are often targeted in the womb and when their special needs are discovered, they are frequently discarded. Shameful. Absolutely shameful. According to “T’s” dad, when “T” was born, his mom—Aunt “J”—said, “I always wanted to work with special needs children and now I’ve been blessed with one of my very own.” In a society that casts aside people like “T,” Aunt “J” said yes to God, like Mary did, and embraced God's will for her. She didn't question it. She didn't rail against it. She said yes, and she loved her son because he was exactly who God intended him to be. Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone with such faith.

At “T’s” wake today, his mom would have had every reason and right to have been a complete emotional mess. It would be perfectly normal for any of us who have to endure the experience of burying a child to be beside ourselves with grief and pain and, dare I say, doubt. It dawned on me sometime during the wake that that it is Pentecost, as it became evident that the Holy Spirit was abundantly present in that funeral home today and the Spirit filled “T’s” mother in a way that left this amateur theologian utterly speechless. In social work, we are always mindful of delayed grief in individuals who experience tragic loss. I did not see any of that. The grief was there. But I saw a mother who, after 38 years of intense commitment, love and faith, knew—KNEW—that her son was with Jesus this very day because she said so in what can only be referred to as perhaps the most moving sermon I have ever encountered, and I’ve encountered thousands of them. This woman—in no way, shape or form a theologian—had faith greater than that of anyone I’ve come across because she was absolutely resolved and convinced that the promises of Christ were not debatable. She stood by the side of her son’s coffin and through the pain, the grief and the unimaginable suffering, she channeled the strength of Christ through the Holy Spirt and she spoke powerful words of comfort and love and hope. These words were as Gospel-based as any I’ve ever heard from a pulpit because they came from the heart, a heart that was uncluttered with the pretenses of life, leaving room only for the love and true wisdom that Christ provides. At a time when most people in her position would have been in need of comfort, she stood there offering comfort and solace to mourning family members in the room. She was a rock. Her faith was immense. Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone with such faith.

I saw living faith with my own two eyes today. I encountered the living Christ. Through his example, “T” changed people’s lives. He provided his mother with fortitude and resilience and the ability to say yes to God when God was offering her a monumental challenge. When my wife and I got into the car and left the funeral home, there was silence for a few moments. My wife knows me better than anyone and so she knows that I need time to pray and process my thoughts after such events. After a few minutes, she finally said to me, “what are you thinking?” I replied, “In the South, there’s a question people ask sometimes, ‘what’s your verse?’ What it means is, what Bible verse do you live by? I don’t know if Aunt “J” knows this, but her verse is the verse in Matthew 8, ‘Truly I tell you, I have not found anyone with such faith.’”