Faith Works 1-21-17
Jeff Gill
Faithfulness and trust part of the problem
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If people don't believe that congregations can be faithful,  whose problem is that?
Right, it may not be always or even often true, but the old  "perceptions are reality" line kicks in with a vengeance here. If church folk  just keep saying "we are constantly seeking to follow our Lord as best we can"  and others don't believe us, then there's got to be at least a portion of the  burden on our shoulders: we have to prove it. We have to show our faithfulness  to God's call on our lives every day.
And yes, even just one failure along the way has a lasting  and wide impact.
There's another side to this dilemma of credibility and  witness for people of faith, and that's trust. Not much of it out there these  days.
I don't trust the media, and I are one. I mean, look where  you're reading this, right? But I know much of TV and online and even print  media is focused on stirring up worries, anxieties, even fears, since that's what  makes you keep watching, turning the page, clicking and clicking further into  the website.
I don't trust those who call me. My landline (yes, yes, let  it go, I have reasons) means I get, do-not-call registries aside, lots of  "survey" and solicitation phone messages when I get home. My cell is starting  to get spam calls; at the church, especially in the afternoon, the phone when  it rings is always some poor cold calling sales guy pushing copier supplies,  curriculum, cleaning gear. Click.
I certainly don't trust my email anymore. I have six  addresses I have to check regularly, and they all are a source of ongoing  frustration. Spam blockers and screening tools and filters all take time  themselves, and yet the flood of skeezy messages I need to not click on  continues to grow.
I don't trust politicians. And I know quite a few, actually,  some of whom I consider friends, and many of whom I think more highly of than  they themselves might realize. But I've been about the work of "lobbying" since  I was a teenager, in my home state of Indiana, in West Virginia, and here in  Ohio. I've been to the rodeo, and know most of the clowns, and the bulls.  Sometimes, you step in it. Sometimes, folks try to hand it to you and call it a  bouquet of flowers.  That's how the process  works at times. So you look for yourself before you step.
In fact, I don't trust my own denominational structure.  They're working hard, and trying to hold together a long-standing set of  assumptions not to mention properties, and juggle declining giving with  increasing expenses (as are many local congregations), but I've heard  presentations on how "things are looking up next year" so long I can whisper  the next lines to myself as they speak. They can read trend lines and balance  sheets as well as I can, and they say what they say and do what they believe  they have to do. I respect what they have to do, but I'm careful about taking  them at face value. Or to be blunt, I don't always trust them.
But I certainly don't trust consultants and experts anymore.  They've sold more sunshine than anyone these last few decades to church groups,  and get out of town before the rain gets hard. They have this year's big thing  in a new package, and they know we're willing to overlook our qualms and quash  our doubts enough to buy another round of advice and slate of suggestions . . .  which will be forgotten by the next year, except for the file drawer half  filled with the unused workbooks and partial bag of leftover keychains.
You can add your own. We do not trust. Not Professor Harold  Hill who just got off at the depot, not Rev. Eric Camden, and not even  President Josiah Bartlet. We want to trust, so we love those idealized figures perhaps  a little out of proportion to what they can actually teach us . . . and then  actually feel betrayed if the actors doing the portrayal don't live up to our  needs.
And it ends up in our not trusting God. Or at least we  mistrust the fabrications we prop up in God's place. And the hope I see in this  untrustworthy era is that we might just knock down enough of those false  fronts, fake gods, and start to relate to the real One behind them all.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking  County; he's not offended if you don't trust him implicitly, either. Tell him  about where you put your trust at knapsack77@gmail.com,  or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
 
 


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