The young woman sat in the pew listening to the preacher. He was talking about Abraham and faith.

"God," the preacher said, "made these outrageous promises to Abraham. He promised him land when he had no land. He promised him that he would be a ‘light to the nations,’ an inspiration to the whole world, when Abraham was a nobody, an unknown. And, most preposterous of all, he promised him descendants ‘as many as the stars.’ That was utterly preposterous because Abraham’s wife, Sarah, had always been infertile, and was now very old as well.

"But Abraham," the preacher went on, "believed the Lord. He had faith in the Lord. And the Lord ‘reckoned it to him as righteousness.’ That," the preacher went on, "is the basis for the greatest gift in history; it is the foundation for the gospel, the good news."

The young woman listened closely. "You see," the preacher went on, "none of us can ever, on our own, be in a right relationship with God. Our hearts are full of doubt and deceit and, as St. Paul said, we all think and do things we know we shouldn’t. When it comes to being in a perfectly loving relationship with our perfectly loving God, not one of us can do it, not if we have to do it alone. But we don’t have to do it alone. Our readings this morning tell us that God took Abraham’s faith and ‘reckoned it to him as righteousness.’ You know what ‘righteousness’ is? It’s being in right relationship. God said to Abraham, ‘Because of your faith, I’ll treat you, flawed human that you are, as if you are in a right relationship with me.’ You see," the preacher continued, "God says, ‘I know you’re all messed up, but because of your faith, I’m going to treat you as if you are perfect. I’m going to love you as if you are perfect.

"My brothers and sisters," the preacher went on, "that is simply the most profound act of grace, of undeserved love, imaginable. My sisters and brothers in Christ, it is the greatest gift we can receive. And if you have faith, you have been given the gift. If you have faith, God counts your faith as righteousness — and your heart should be filled with joy."

The young woman was listening intently. But her heart was not filled with joy. She thought there was something wrong with her. No one else, she was sure, felt this way, but she didn’t feel joy. She felt fear. She tried to live a good life. She did good works. But she was afraid that her faith wasn’t strong enough, that she didn’t feel it deeply enough, that she doubted too much, that she didn’t keep God foremost in her mind enough. She was afraid that she didn’t have enough faith.

And, unbeknownst to her, a lot of the people in the congregation shared her concern. Outwardly, they nodded approval when the preacher said they should feel joy. Inwardly, they were haunted by the question, "Is my faith strong enough? Will God be so graceful to me even though God knows all too well how far short I fall, how lacking in faith I can be? Am I saved?"

Those folks didn’t realize that their anxiety was caused by old, old disputes about what "faith" means. They weren’t aware that the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century tended to make faith individual and subjective — a matter of how you feel rather than what you do.

Well, feelings, of course, are pretty hard to harness. In pre-marital counseling, I tell couples that if their marriage is going to be based on how they feel about each other, they might as well throw in the towel now and save everybody a lot of time and trouble. I don’t think many couples make it in the long run without going through times when they don’t feel like staying married. What gets them through those times is hope for the future, and commitment to the relationship.

The letter to the Hebrews says, "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Hope, conviction, commitment, these are some of the elements of faith, and they are emotions, but they don’t have as much to do with feeling as with doing. People who have hope, conviction, and commitment behave a certain way, so that a married person with those qualities who doesn’t feel like it may nevertheless stay married.

So, while feelings are one end of the spectrum, actions are the other. Jesus doesn’t talk much about how people feel on the inside, but he does talk about whether their lives look faithful from the outside. This morning, he says, "Stand ready for the Son of Man to come back at any moment; keep your lamps lit. Don’t serve possessions. Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." That’s one test of faith. From the outside, to an observer, does your life look like you are a person of faith? It’s pretty unconvincing when a man tells a woman, "I love you," and then hits her. It’s pretty unconvincing when one person says to another, "I’m committed to our monogamous relationship," and then has serial affairs. It’s pretty unconvincing when someone says, "You can trust me," and then they tell your secrets, or break their word. And it’s pretty unconvincing when a parent says, "Despite the divorce, I still love you very much," but they refuse to pay child support. And how does the batterer, the cheater, the gossip, the dead-beat dad feel about it? Who cares?!

And, of course, it’s pretty unconvincing when someone says, "I’m a Christian, a person of faith," and even though they feel a strong faith, an audit of their life shows that they give only a small percent of their income to God. Or that they harbor hatred for whole groups of people because of how God made those people. (Doesn’t it ring false when you hear a White Supremacist say, "I’m a Christian" (as most of them do)?) And it’s pretty unconvincing when someone says "I’m a Christian," and they aren’t willing to sacrifice to care for the poor, and the dispossessed, and the outcasts, and those who can’t care for themselves. And it’s pretty unconvincing when someone says, "I’m a Christian," and the most important thing in their life is their career, or their looks, or their house, or their golf score. . . whatever. It’s pretty unconvincing when someone says, "I’m a Christian" and the most important thing in their life is anything other than Christ.

That is an objective test. How does a person’s life look from the outside? We use that test all the time, and it’s fair to use it to evaluate a claim of faith. How does your life stand up to this test?

Well, if you’re paying attention, you probably should feel fear. Your life doesn’t stand up to that standard. Not all the way. Lots of you do lots of really wonderful things, but none of our lives can hold up in light of the standard of perfection. None of us live such good, perfect lives that our actions are clear evidence of perfect faith.

So, we’re in quite a pickle now, aren’t we? On one end of the pole, if we just rely on feelings as the basis of our faithfulness, we’re toast. On the other end, if we’re judged objectively by the faithfulness our actions reflect, we’re toast.

Well, here’s the good news: God can take whatever you’ve got to offer from either end. It’s not that complicated. If you feel deep love toward God, if you feel faithful, you need to take an inventory of the other end of the pole, the action end: is that feeling fully reflected in how you live? The answer will be, "No." I’m sure of that because all of us are in need of reform all the time. So decide to make changes, to reform how you live so that your actions, what you do with your money, your body, your time, your gifts, more nearly reflect how you feel toward God.

The more common problem is probably people who want to feel faith in God, but just don’t. (Those feelings, they’re hard to harness, aren’t they?) I think there are lots and lots of people who are really frustrated because they want to have faith and don’t think they can. To them my advice is this, "Stop trying to harness your emotions; it’s like trying to herd cats. If you want to be a person of faith, act like you already are a person of faith."

Will acting faithful make you feel enough faith? And if you feel faith, will that make you act enough faith? Ah, at last we’re ready to see the fallacy behind this pole that has feeling on one end and acting on the other. Feeling faithful and acting faithful aren’t contrasting ways to be faithful, they are part of a whole human being; they are part of your character, your identity. What you feel and how you act are part of who you are. And God can take either end of that pole and use it, not to whip the other end of the pole into shape, but to reshape, to reform, who you are. The quest for faith is the quest for a new identity, so God doesn’t just make you feel more or make you do more; your feelings and your actions arise out of who you are, and they shape who you are, so God can use them to change who you are, so that you are a person not who primarily feels faith, or does faith, but who is of faith, faith is at your core, faith is who you are. It is your being, so you can’t exist without it.

Now I can hear the young woman from the story. She knows I haven’t really answered her concerns. So she anxiously questions me: "Have you reached that state, that transformation so that faith is your character?" "Yes and no," I say. "Faith is my character, but God knows I have a long way to go."

"Then how can we know that we have enough faith, enough for God to count it as righteousness?" she asks anxiously.

"God is on our side," I say. "God has given us this wonderful, astounding, graceful gift. Don’t let your anxiety block a gift of undeserved love because you’re afraid you don’t deserve it. How ironic would that be? And when you’re anxious because you don’t know whether your faith is strong enough for God to use, do me a favor — have a little faith."