Growing up, the scariest thing in the world to me was denying Jesus in front of the world. Occasionally, I would invent scenarios in my mind where I stood before thousands, expected to answer one question: Is Jesus the Truth?
My answer would depend upon which part of my pilgrimage toward indestructible, evangelistic zeal you found me in. In real life—when I felt most profoundly Jesus’ presence—I would, in my imagination, more boldly declare the reality of his existence and the imminence of his return. When Jesus seemed far from my lived reality, I would envision myself still answering the question above affirmatively, but as only through a whimper. Though frail, I was still brave, right? As long as I didn’t deny Jesus in front of man, he wouldn’t deny me in front of his Father.
My boldness in these scenarios would only last for so long, though. Going into college, I started to sense a full-on deconversion coming on. I believed that if I faked my indefatigable faith in front of my classmates and the citizens of the many countries I would go on mission trips to, its pure nature would return to me. This was not the case. My doubt became so strong, I wanted to quit altogether until I came across a quote that strengthened me. It helped me recognize that Jesus’ pleasure in me is not based on my boldness in the furnace, nor is it on the strength of my doubt. It’s in how unfazed he is by it all.
The quote that changed it all for me is by one of the 20th century’s greatest theologians, Karl Barth. In a sermon about Christ’s incarnation and the efficacious nature of preaching as it relates to the conversion of those who don’t believe, Barth posits, “Jesus Christ took the unbelief of men seriously because he did not take it seriously. If our unbelief were a serious matter to him, if it appeared to Him as an obstacle, who of us then could presume to be His?”
I was not okay the first time I read this. Who of us, then, could presume to be His? You see what he’s saying right? Those of us who already love and believe in Christ would be wrong to forget how God came to us. How God saved us. Yes, faith is necessary, but its robustness isn’t. Our salvation lies in Christ’s understanding that our faith is often weak. And, it is in those low, depressing places, the ones in which we wonder if Jesus gives a damn, that we will encounter the mercy of Jesus—his unfazed reaction to our unbelief.
If you’re worried about the fate of a neighbor who is disinterested in Jesus, or if you’re in disarray about the state of your own faith, remember that Jesus ain’t goin’ nowhere. He understands. He cares. Here is a worthy exhortation to end this reflection by Brother Barth:
Faith must always mean that in sincerity and without wavering we do not believe in the unbelief of others; that we never wish to be relieved from serving them; and that we shall not let them go, as Jesus Christ does not let us go despite our unbelief. Let us go to them… with the assurance that we can and shall know nothing else than this, that through God’s incomprehensible miracle we have a Lord who has shown us mercy - mark well! - mercy."
Fam. Thanks for commenting cuz I needed to come back to this, too. Thank you 🥹 I truly appreciate you reading and sharing 🙏🏾