Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
August 10, 2025
The Reverent Dr Adam J Shoemaker
Let the words my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O God, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.
There is a poignant scene in the Gospel of Mark where a grief-stricken father seeking healing for his ailing son runs up to Jesus and cries out, "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.” “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.” It's a wonderfully honest confession that speaks to the deep ambiguity that is inherent in any life of faith. And points to the reality that faith is never a destination, never an end point that we ever fully realize on this side of the resurrection, but rather an ongoing process of discovery, a lifelong journey of transformation that has highs and lows, moments of consolation and desolation, moments of inspiration and deep frustration. For faith, as our reading from the letter to the Hebrews puts it, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Luke 11:1).
“Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For me, this classic definition means that faith is a practice. It's not so much about creedal statements or intellectual propositions as it is an invitation to lean in each and every day following in the footsteps of Jesus. This concept of faith as a practice is part of the wisdom of our worship traditions in the Episcopal Church. We're at the very center of all that we say and do that. Understand that we human beings are habitual creatures. So we are what we do or we are how we pray, as we are called through our eucharistic practices to gather in this holy place around this altar to receive the sacrament, to receive the bread and the wine week after week, month after month, year after year, whether we feel like it or not.
But this is part of the wisdom that I absorbed as a student at a Roman Catholic high school in Long Island, New York—That sometimes faith doesn't have to do with your feelings. Sometimes you simply need to get on your knees and say your prayers. You need to come to church. You need to continue to receive the sacrament and diligently strive to put one foot in front of the other as the prophet Abraham does, venturing off in his old age to a foreign land, not knowing exactly where he was going, but trusting nevertheless in the promises of God. Sometimes we've just got to lean in and choose to continue our life of faith even when we go through a dry season.
And make no mistake about it, we will have dry seasons. This is true for clergy and for lay people alike. Why? Because we live out our faith in the real world, not amid some idealized utopia, but in the real world full of all the fallen realities around us and everything that we are challenged by in our own lives. And so there will be moments, there will be seasons when it can feel hard to hold on to our faith. When it might feel hard to walk through the doors of a church, when it can feel hard to say our prayers. It might even feel like we are going through the motions. But I believe our tradition would encourage us even in those times—perhaps especially in those times—to lean in and to continue to say yes, to continue to make the choice to have faith, trusting in the good news and the gospel truth that God is always at work in our lives and in our world, even if we don't always feel it or see it happening.
It might be in this context of the lifelong journey of faith that we could consider hearing the difficult teaching that Jesus offers us in our gospel reading today from Luke in which he encourages us to divest ourselves of our things, our stuff, our material possessions. For it is especially true for us in this part of the world that our things can become stumbling blocks, distractions that disorient our hearts or they can become things that we run to escape the realities of the world as opposed to trying to faithfully navigate them with meaning and purpose.
Faith. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” How does that classic scriptural definition sit with you as we gather for worship on this day? And what might it look like for you given where you are in your life to continue to practice your faith to put one foot in front of the other in your prayer life in your worship life and throughout the week as well. And how does our faith, our trust in the ultimate victory of God's love in this world, this broken world of ours. How does that guide and govern and shape all that we say and do, all the choices that we make and decisions that we take?
May we continue to prayerfully wrestle with these questions of our faith as we journey forward not as individuals but together as a community as a part of the body of Christ following as best we are able in the footsteps of Jesus.
Amen.
© 2025 Adam J Shoemaker