the revolutionary humility of faith
We live in a world that esteems certainty, of knowledge beyond doubt. But the arrogance of Enlightenment reason has been shown to be, in so many ways, naive.
None of this makes knowledge bad; quite the opposite, knowledge is beautiful. But like beauty, knowledge is not easy to pin down.
Faith is, in part, an acknowledgement of our inability to really know many things with certainty.
Now when I say faith I don’t mean mere belief, much less blind belief. After all, belief is only part of faith, like flour in a pancake.
Faith is more than belief. It is faithfulness – loyalty, obedience, action. It is a hope borne of a redirected allegiance, of a new way of living.
True faith acknowledges that I don’t know everything. She has an inbuilt humility. She does not ignore knowledge, in fact the two are friends, and faith always lends its ear to knowledge to learn something new about herself. But faith also realises that knowledge is imperfect, and that he should not be one’s only friend.
Faith is a startling critique of human arrogance, of our naive sense of independence. We are never independent, but always interdependent. Faith asserts the need for community, both with the divine and each other. She makes a way for a reconnected world where we are no longer lonely ships in the night.
True faith is revolutionary. But she is also humble. She critiques knowledge, but she also listens to him. She knows that they work best together. Knowledge often doesn’t see the need for faith, but what he doesn’t realise is that she is always part of his life, even when he doesn’t realise.