IF

Acts 17:22-31
1 Peter 3:13-22
John 14:15-21

If we were to paint a portrait of our faith - not what we think it should be nor what we think it is but rather how it really is - what might it look like? What sorts of colors and hews and shapes and abstracts would be involved in order to proclaim a faith by which we declare ourselves redeemed or saved or preserved or whatever other word we may choose to describe that faith and what it really means to us – or whether it really means anything at all?

Would it look like a Picasso with the weird faces that don’t really look like faces? Might it look like an abstract that in most ways may resemble only what could be more accurately described as a paint spill? Would it be a colorful clown that might amuse some but might also remind others of “Pennywise”, the spooky clown featured in the Stephen King novel and movie It? Or perhaps it might look something like a landscape, a serene waterfall cascading down from a snow-capped mountain backdrop feeding a creek that courses its way through a meadow with soft rolling hills featuring nature at its finest and purest?

To be sure, art is abstract. Art is the attempt to tell a story or express emotions set to colors or music or drawings or even poetic words and phrases. I am not particularly artsy though I love classical music. Some poetry has profound expressions that I sometimes enjoy even if I don’t always understand what the poet is truly trying to say. And as far as paintings go, I look at the picture itself and see only whether it pleases my senses or my sense of style or decoration, neither of which I really have anyway. I only want to determine whether it will match the environment in which I will choose to apply it. In this sense, I couldn’t care less what the artist was trying to say. I need only to know whether it suits me and my own purpose … or whether I even need it at all.

I often wonder how it is that religion and faith fit into our lives and whether these are abstract notions that we find difficult to define, or if they are both something very real, very tangible to which we are affiliated and which we heartily embrace not for our own sakes but for the sake of something much greater and larger than self. How we approach and evaluate our faith may have everything to do with whether we can put it down on paper or canvas or whether we can set it to music beyond picking a favorite hymn. It might also be that we would fall far short of Peter’s encouragement to “be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands of you an accounting for the hope that is in you …” (1 Peter 3:15) Are we able to express this in words or music or a painting that will match the decorum of our soul, or is our faith as abstract and difficult to define as art itself?

Try to consider for a moment what St. Paul is encountering in Athens. Imagine him walking around and taking in the sights and the temples and the statues and the monuments when suddenly he finds the one marked, “To an unknown god”. It is apparent by what is written in Acts that Paul is fully prepared to give a good defense, but he does not tell the story by demanding adherence to a particular doctrine or practice. Instead he chooses to paint a picture by telling a story, and he starts from pretty much the beginning in order to establish a relevant background. It would be the difference between painting a full portrait of our faith or simply taking a snapshot with a Polaroid. Which is going to offer a fuller expression?

Notice also how he not only expresses his own sense of hope but also hands to the Athenians a hope they can possibly embrace for themselves when he states that the earth was inhabited by God’s own creation “so that they would search for God … and find Him.” Paul then adds a little of the words of Athenian poets who expressed that “we, too, are His offspring.” (Acts 17:27-28) It would appear, then, that a story is beginning to take shape without demanding anything of the Athenians except an open ear and an open heart. He appeals to their intellect, most certainly, but he also gives them a perspective from which they can define faith’s foundation. The words he offers to them are not without some meaning and some context within their own society and way of thinking, and he attempts to force nothing upon them that they are not ready for.

Jesus says that the fruit of our love for Him will manifest itself in our obedience to His commandments. If we were to attempt to draw a portrait of this image, what would it look like? Which “commandment” would we choose to portray? It tends to be that we likely have a more negative connotation of what “commandment” may look like, and the image conveyed would probably more resemble a Man of War dressed for battle. “Commandment” is typically associated with “you better not or else” rather than expressing the hope, the foundation, and the opportunities for ministry that abound in its proper context. Before we can paint this portrait to express our own understanding of what it is and what it may look like, we must first be able to embrace it for what it really is.

I never cared much for “or else” theology although I will be the first to submit that there are expectations and moral standards required of us no less so than what the Lord expected and demanded of the Israelites because the purpose of these “commandments” reaches far beyond self. They are our witness, our sure faith, our certain hope that there is something far Greater than what we can hope to attain or to achieve for and by ourselves.

It is, dear friends, the portrait of our faith that identifies a satisfied hunger and a quenched thirst to those so desperately searching for genuine meaning to an otherwise bleak and purposeless existence. It is the portrait that tells the whole story …. IF we are prepared to embrace it ourselves.