The simplicity of faith: Meditations on Luke 22:14-20

            Faith is a word that is often used, and rarely defined.  In Lutheran circles, it usually is understood as “trust” “belief,” and “confidence,” particularly in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, crucified for sinners.  It also holds the connotation of a living thing, that works and breathes and acts, like a vine that is grafted into the source of life—Jesus Himself.  St. Paul describes faith as a divine gift, something that comes not from one’s self, but rather is a gift of God, so that no one may boast even of their faith.  St. Jude describes faith as something given and defended, pointing to the content of faith once for all delivered to the saints.  With so many dynamics of the word itself used in the Scriptures, it should not be surprising that people find it confusing.

            For example, if faith means trust, how do I measure trust?  How do I measure belief or confidence?  How do I measure the working strength of faith?  And if these sound like ethereal subjects to measure, you’d be right.  No one can really measure trust, or belief, or confidence, or strength of working conviction directly—but it is a common error of Christians to attempt to measure them indirectly, by looking at their works.  When faith itself cannot be measured, the temptation is to measure something faith produces, and equate the work to the source.  The Scriptures do not draw this direct correlation, though they make the simple statements that living faith produces the fruits of good works, and a lack of faith produces the fruit of evil works.  There is no measurement, but a recognition of a simple reality:  Faith works in love.

            Likewise, if faith means a body of doctrine delivered once to the saints, how do we measure that?  Is it the doctrine delivered by St. Paul to the Church at Ephesus, or perhaps to the Church at Rome?  Is it the doctrine delivered by St. John to the Seven Churches in his Apocalypse, or perhaps the doctrine written down in St. Luke’s Gospel and Acts?  Drifting down through history in the Church, is it the full canon of Holy Scripture, or just some subset of those Prophetic and Apostolic documents?  Is it a particular set of Hebrew texts, or does it also include Greek and Aramaic texts, and if so, which ones?  Is it found also in the Creeds, and which creeds, specifically?  Is it found in the rulings and canons of the first three Ecumenical Councils, or the first five, or all seven?  Is it found in the Reformation Confessions of the 16^th century, and is it alone in Augsburg, or is it also in Heidelberg and Canterbury and Geneva?   Looking back on over 1900 years of Christians contending for the faith once for all delivered to the saints, how do we measure the fullness of that revelation, when even the Holy Scriptures themselves bear witness to things hard to understand (cf. St. Peter writing of St. Paul) ?  Again, Holy Scripture itself points to a recognized reality, rather than a measurement—Christ Himself is the beginning, the fullness, and the completion of the faith He has worked in us by the power of His Holy Spirit.  The Word Written, is a reflection of the Word Himself, who is eternally begotten of the Father.

            Can we find a measure of works that will fully define faith?  No, we cannot.  We can point to works of love done in faith which fulfill the Law for Christ’s sake, and we can point to the stark judgment of the Law that condemns the sin of the faithless apart from Christ.  But we can never write enough Law to capture all the requirements of faith working through love toward God and neighbor, anymore than we can write enough Law to capture all the permutations of human depravity toward God and neighbor.  This working faith remains a mystery that is simple in its revelation, and eternally deep in its application.  Such working faith leaves mortal man grappling with the pure simplicity of the Gospel, while struggling to comprehend the immeasurability of divine Love.  To drift beyond the simplicity of faith working in love, is to drift into an ocean unnavigable and unbounded, where the limits of human reason fail like a wisp of smoke in a hurricane.

            Can we craft a doctrinal statement or creed that fully articulates the fullness of the faith, once for all delivered to the saints?  No, we cannot.  We can recognize where Creeds and Councils and Confessions have adequately represented what Christ has delivered through His Prophets and Apostles, and we can recognized the Holy Scriptures which God has breathed out through them.  But we cannot form a statement of human language that captures all the nuances of the Holy Trinity, who Himself is infinite and boundless, known only in so far as He offers Himself to finite man through His revelation.  And we cannot hope to create any statement of human language, that bounds all the sinful and perverted whims of man’s fallen reason, and guards against all heresy and corruption.  We can recognize the simple fellowship of the Christian with the Apostles, whose fellowship is with Christ, and through Christ with the Holy Trinity.  And we can recognize the broken communion of those who do not hear Christ’s Word, and do not keep it.  To drift beyond the Word of Christ as the content of faith, is to drift into that same unnavigable and unbounded ocean, where the limits of human reason and thought fail to find the edges of infinity, and dissipate once again like smoke in a gale.

            So where do we find hope, as the people of God in Christ Jesus?  In the simplicity of faith which He gives, and He sustains.  There is no comfort in the works righteousness of those who think they can find rest by measuring faith through deeds.  There is no comfort in the scholasticism of the rationalists, who think they can bound the infinite God in human language.  There is only the simplicity of what God has spoken, and what God has done:  His Word, which becomes flesh for us, that we might be reconciled to the Father through His life, death, and resurrection.  Here the simplicity of faith surpasses all the Law and the Confessions—here the Christian lives by the mystery of a faith given to them as a gift, and faith lived out in communion with the Holy Trinity forever.  Here the Christian finds peace and solace and hope—not by their works nor by their reason, but by the work of Christ accomplished for and in us.  Here the simplicity of faith gives us new birth from above by Water and Spirit, that we may perceive these words anew every day (Luke 22:14-20):

When the hour had come, He sat down, and the twelve apostles with Him. Then He said to them, “With fervent desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer;  for I say to you, I will no longer eat of it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.”  Then He took the cup, and gave thanks, and said, “Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I say to you, I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.”

And He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.”  Likewise He also took the cup after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is shed for you.”

 Given and shed for you, for the forgiveness of sins, and the restored communion of God with man.  This is the simplicity of faith that overcomes the world, the schemes of the devil and wicked men, and all the torments of hell.  This is the faith which gathers together all the heights of theology from Creation, to Redemption, to the Final Judgment, and makes the whole of the eternal and infinite God present in the heart of the Christian.  This is the simple faith that transcends death into life everlasting, bringing eternity into the present moment forever.  This is our life, our sweetness, and our hope.  This is Emmanuel:  God With Us.  Amen.