Faith and Death

The man seems to say — and Jesus doesn’t dispute the idea — that it is possible to believe and not believe at the same time. It is possible to have faith and to lack faith at the same time.

This passage describes a subjective faith, a faith or belief unique to each individual. A changeable measure of the ability to believe. A changeable degree of spiritual strength to hold on to, or to trust in, anything or anyone. Going up and down like the daily temperature.

To think of faith or belief in this way is to ask other questions:

• Where does such an ability — the ability to believe or trust — come from?
• Do we generate it all on our own?
• Or is it a gift from someone else?
• Does it come from our parents?
• Or our teachers?
• Or from the printed Bible?
• Does it come from God? Do we find faith all at once, Or do we develop faith bit by bit, like we accumulate knowledge of a school subject, or experience in a profession?

Other questions:

• Is it better to have a half-hearted faith in the perfect “faith” (meaning: the perfect set of Bible principles)?
• Or is it better to have a wholehearted faith in what is perhaps a slightly less than perfect set of Bible principles?
• And maybe a third question to follow the first two: Is it wrong even to ask such questions?

I’m not going to give you definite answers to these questions. But I am asking these soul-searching questions, and I am going to challenge you to consider certain scenes/pictures/ideas while trying to wrestle with such questions.

There is also a third distinct aspect of faith, as defined in the Greek of the New Testament. I’ll put it this way: If I have faith in Jesus, does he have a right to put faith in me? If I trust him, can he expect to trust me?

We have thought about God and His Son as objects of our trust. And we have thought about the individual’s capacity to “believe”, and to hold on to that trust, in them, through various trials of life. Now the third aspect of faith is this: Even allowing for my weaknesses, and inevitable failures, can Christ expect that I will be “faithful” to him?

The third Greek word, related to the first two, is “pistos”. It is an adjective, a de­scriptive word meaning: faithful, trustworthy, reliable. It occurs in these passages, among others:

“His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful [‘pistos’] servant! You have been faithful [‘pistos’] with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’ ” (Matt 25:21, and other verses also).

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful [‘pistos’] in prayer” (Rom 12:12).

“Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove [themselves] faithful [‘pistos’]” (1Cor 4:2).

We can summarize at this point. We can now say that “faith” has at least three aspects:

• The person or idea in which we choose to place our faith;
• The ability of each person, or the gift given to each person, even to have faith at all; and finally,
• The need for each person to be faithful, or to show faithfulness.

…And death

So now we are entering into the area where we might say to one another, and certainly to ourselves: “Now this is getting personal!”

Does the New Testament command us to “be faithful”? The answer is: ‘Yes, it does, but only one time!’ (This is true, whether we use the NIV, the RSV or the KJV: it’s only one time.)

Where is the passage? And what does it say?

It is in Christ’s message to the ecclesias in Rev 2:10:

“Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you, the devil [i.e., the Roman authorities] will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life.”

Jesus says, ‘Be faithful. Start now. Expect that you will suffer, one way or another along the way. It’s alright — I suffered too. Continue to be faithful until you die. That’s alright too: I was faithful, and then I died. You wouldn’t want it any other way, would you? Do that — that’s all! — and I promise you that I will give you a crown of eternal life.’

Somehow, “faith” and “death” seem to go hand in hand, don’t they? The young person decides to be baptized, and we read for him or her (and one more time for ourselves):

“Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection… Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he can­not die again; death no longer has mastery over him. The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus” (Rom 6: 3-11).

We take a young person, with plans and hopes for the future, and seemingly with everything to live for, with years and years of life ahead, and we talk about crucifixion, death and burial. And I wonder sometimes how real these concepts are to us, especially when we are quite young. The young especially (though they are not the only ones!) may think they have the luxury of just about all the time in the world. But they don’t necessarily. No one does.

Should it be surprising, even for the young person who accepts Christ in baptism, that we should speak of death and burial? When the baby Jesus was brought by his mother and Joseph to the Temple for the first time, the old man Simeon came forth and by inspiration blessed the baby. Then he turned to the young mother, and told her, “And a sword shall pierce your own soul (or life) also” (Luke 2:35). It seems almost casual, as though it were perfectly natural and reasonable: ‘For this child, as well as for you the mother, there will be the sword of death. Know that for a certainty!’

The circumcision of Jesus on the eighth day and the sacrifices on the fortieth day, with their blood shed, were previews of the scourge, the thorns, the cross, and the spear. These were pains felt keenly by the young mother Mary as she came to see more and more of her son’s mission.

Every mother knows that her child is born to die one day. Like it or not, there is a “sword” for each of us. We all bear our “crosses” every day, as we carry about these bodies doomed to death. We may, however, all choose what “death” we will die — either eternal death or the “death” of our ambitions and desires in this world:

“Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt 10:39).

For each of us who seek to walk in Christ’s steps, salvation is on the other side of suffering — whether it be a brief and fiery trial, or long years of temptation and waiting. We cannot step around the sword or leap over the flames; we must walk straight forward, and Christ will walk with us.

Whatever else our faith is, it centers upon the cross, the place of an excruciatingly painful and humiliating death. The man who died on the cross was raised from the dead, and he now offers us… literally everything in the world! But he tells us that we must “be faithful unto death”. He tells us that we must deny ourselves, and that each of us must take up our cross and follow him (Matt 16:24).

The Christian writer, A.W. Tozer, says: “The cross is the symbol of death. It stands for the abrupt, violent end of the human being. The man in Roman times who took up his cross and started down the road had already said goodbye to his friends. He was not coming back. He was not going out to have his life redirected. He was going out to have it ended. The cross made no compromise, modified nothing, spared nothing. It slew all of the man completely and for good. It did not try to keep on good terms with its victim. it struck swift and hard and when it had finished its work the man was no more… In coming to Christ we do not bring our life up on to a higher plane. We leave it at a cross. The grain of wheat must fall into the ground and die. That is the beginning of the gospel.”

What does it mean to “be faithful unto death”?

On Sept. 11, 2001, the Twin Towers of New York were struck by great planes filled with jet fuel, which exploded and fatally weakened the buildings. As clouds poured out of the towers and engulfed the center of the city, many thousands of people fled the scene, covered with ash and struggling for breath as they ran or stumbled away. But a few hundred men and women — police and emergency services and fire department — rushed toward the conflagration, and into mortal danger. Some of them did not come out alive. It was, simply put, their job.

“Be faithful unto death”

The writer to the Hebrews describes many nameless men and women who were “faithful unto death”, who were in fact faithful in the face of imminent death: “What more shall I say?” he wrote.

“Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goat­skins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated — the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground” (11:35-38). “These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off” (v 13).

“Be faithful unto death”

The young Jewish bride of a king realizes that she has been put in her position, close to great power, so as to be able to intercede on behalf of God’s people. But she also understands that to speak out will endanger her own life. Esther asks for prayers and fasting as a preparation, and vows that after three days she will approach the king, “even though it is against the law.” She adds: “And if I perish, I perish” (Esth 4:16).

“Be faithful unto death…”

“For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1Cor 11:23-26).

We conclude with another little quiz. So again, please answer one very simple question. No need to hurry this time. Take all the time you need, and think about your answer. The question is:

What, in YOUR life, is worth dying for?