Faith is strange, isn’t it? It is such a curious element of our existence. The gift of faith, the opportunity to experience more or less of something, is so hard to verbalize. Faith is strange. It is almost impossible to measure or quantify, yet we know when it is present and when it is absent. We know when it is in abundance and when it is scarce. We know when someone has faith in us or does not. Faith is strange.

One of the ways we talk about in the church is by referring to the section of Scripture read this morning. It gives us a little definition, doesn’t it? “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Doesn’t that make it so much clearer? Fortunately, this chapter of Hebrews is filled with examples of faith. There are names we grew up hearing in Sunday school, and really names you know even if you never stepped foot in Sunday school, those of Noah and Moses and of course Abraham. It is Abraham whom we look at today as a model and example of faith.

Abraham started as Abram; his name was later changed to reflect the movement of God in his life. He was told simply to go to the land God had for him. And he obeyed, without a map or an itinerary. He obeyed and took his entire family with him. Talk about a crazy summer trip. Not a vacation, as he had no plans to return home, but instead he and his family were heading to a new home, with only the promise of a destination, not an actual address. Wow. Talk about crazy.

But Abraham’s crazy act is held up for us as an example of faith. If you go back and look at the story of Abraham in roughly the first half of Genesis, you will see a story of action. Abraham was not someone who sat around wondering what to do. He acted. For Abraham, faith is a verb. It is doing, being, moving. And really this idea of action is what all the heroes of faith have in common. Abraham, Noah, Moses, and others—they all acted upon the calling and direction that God placed on their lives. Their statements of faith are not found in eloquent speeches or cleverly written theses about God. No, their statements of faith are found in the stories of their lives, the way they lived, their actions that showed them to be faithful individuals.

Abraham and others, these heroes of our faith, are examples for all of us. To be completely honest, I am not sure if I am relieved or intimidated by their examples. On the one hand, making statements of faith by how I live my life is clear-cut and easy to understand. But the clarity and understanding are also scary. Because I don’t know if I can cut it. I am not sure if I can be that faithful. I don’t know if I can make those kinds of statements of faith.

The closest examples of Abraham in my life are friends Matt and Katie Sciba. Matt and Katie are Texans born and bred. They met in college and shared a passion for missions. Jamie and I got to know them in seminary. When they both graduated, they applied to be CBF missionaries. At the time of application, they were a family of four with two young daughters. As of today they have been overseas for roughly four years in an undisclosed location and have added two more children, both girls. As Matt and Katie went through the application process, I have to confess that I thought, no way. No way I could ever do that. I would tell that to Matt and he would laugh. I would also tell him that I admired his faith. I admired how he and Katie followed the call God placed on their lives, no matter where it took them or those closest to them. I told him I admired the way it seemed that they followed the call with no hesitation. He laughed again.

What is no laughing matter is how we regular people struggle to live lives of faith. If Matt and Katie and Abraham are models of faith for us, then what are we to do? We can’t all pack our bags and head around the world. Some of us can’t even manage traveling around the DFW area. If this is our model of faith, maybe we cannot be faithful people.

Again, faith is strange, and it is also hard. It is hard to wrap our minds around conceptually. But it is even harder to wrap our lives around it. But we do experience faith in our lives, don’t we? So how does our experience of faith match up with Abraham’s? Might his example shine new light on our own experience of faith? Or maybe Abraham’s example calls us to a new experience of faith.

The primary way I think we experience faith is something akin to belief or trust or hope. Faith resembles a commodity of sorts, a trust that we place in certain things or people. For example, we put our faith in the economy. And after weeks like this past one, our faith is shaken a bit. We also put our faith in contracts. And if the contracts fall through, we have faith that the legal system will give us justice or a cash settlement. Perhaps our most common experience of faith is the faith we put in people and groups of people. Not all people but certain people. There are certain individuals or groups that we feel more comfortable putting faith in and others that get a little more doubt. Some we know well—family and close friends; others are famous names and faces. Barry Bonds and Lance Armstrong are two examples.

We all know them both, not personally but for what they have done. Did you know they have a lot in common? They are both famous athletes who are considered to be in the upper echelon of their very different sports. Both have set tremendous records. This past Tuesday nightm Barry broke Hank Aaron’s all-time homerun record when he hit his 756^th career homerun. Lance Armstrong won seven consecutive Tours de France, the first coming just a few years after battling cancer. Barry is widely reputed to be a not-so-nice guy. A selfish player with a bad attitude, a bad teammate, unfriendly with reporters and fans. Prior to cancer and to some even after, Lance was considered to be too cocky for his own good. A selfish rider who, prior to his first Tour victory, had failed to live up to the hype that accompanied him. Hype mostly created by himself. Both Barry and Lance accomplished their tremendous feats amid the cloud of controversy over steroids and other performance-enhancing drugs—Barry during baseball’s steroid era and Lance during a time when it seems almost every cyclist was doping in some form or fashion. Each one has had books and articles written about him alleging his use of steroids or other drugs. And neither of them, Barry nor Lance, has ever tested positive for steroids or any performance-enhancing drugs. They have a lot in common, but here the similarities end.

In the court of public opinion, Barry and Lance are viewed differently, with the words faith and doubt frequently invoked. Barry is largely viewed negatively. We doubt his innocence and have little faith that he acquired his records without the assistance of steroids. We don’t doubt the people who have illegally leaked information about Barry. No, we doubt Barry and his words. Most of us would not be surprised, and in fact maybe a little happy, if Barry was ever unquestionably linked to steroid usage. Lance is different. For some reason we want to believe he is innocent. We put more faith in the fact that despite repeated tests and scrutiny, he has never tested positive for doping of any kind. We doubt not Lance, but his accusers and their motives. They are out to get him. Out to get the American. Most of us really hope he is never found to have used drugs because his story is a great story and we want the happily ever after. Barry and Lance are very similar, but for some reason people tend to put more faith in Lance and more doubt in Barry.

This is also true with people close to us. There are those in our circles whom we put our faith in. We know they are dependable and will not disappoint us. But then there are those whom we have only doubts and questions about. It is these doubts and questions that often result in our treating them differently. We don’t tell them everything. We hold back our lives and our resources. But this is natural, isn’t it? It is normal and sensible to put our faith in those who are most deserving. It is reckless and foolish to put faith in those who will disappoint. Who does that?

Bryan Hall does that and has done that as long as I have known him. Bryan was my youth/college minister from the time I was 16 up to the age of 22. During that time, Bryan continually made statements of faith by the way he treated people. He really treated everyone the same way. He loved them the same way. He gave sacrificially to everyone the same way, even though he knew they probably did not appreciate the gifts. Over the years I watched Bryan pour his own resources not just into students but into everyone he came into contact with. Meals, clothes, books, car rides, hours of attention and presence; you name it, he gave it—to everyone. And too often I felt they took advantage of his generosity. Every so often, I would just bubble over at the apparent injustice. “Why? Why? Why?” I would ask him. “Why do you continue to give things and do things for the same type of people, the type of people who will never give your things back or appreciate what you are doing?” Bryan would put his arm around my shoulders. “Oh, Sean,” he would say, and he said it a lot. “I don’t think it is my job to worry about whether or not people will give back the stuff I give them or whether they appreciate it. Most of the time I know they don’t. My job is to let them see that God loves them, and this is one way I try and do that.”

It has always stood out to me that Bryan did not say tell them that God loves them. He said let them see that God loves them. Bryan’s statements of faith are actions, incarnational actions, actions that show God’s love for the world. But Bryan is a minister. He is supposed to show people the love of God. Right?

Let me remind all of us that as followers of Christ we are all called to be ministers of the gospel. We are all called to let the world see, through how we live our lives, that God loves them. This life of action, making statements of faith with our lives, this is what we learn from Abraham. This is what shines new light on our experiences of faith and really what calls us to a new experience of faith.

Now, we cannot all be Abraham or Matt and Katie or Bryan. But we can all be like them. We can all make statements of faith with our lives that show our dependence upon God. So what is it for you, Wilshire? And what is it for each one of you? How is God pushing and pulling you to make statements of faith? There are other experiences of faith in our lives, but Abraham and others show us that faith requires action. So what is God calling you to do? How is God calling you to live life differently? How are you to make statements of faith with your life that show that faith in God is more than a thought or an emotion?

Faith, statements of faith—they make a difference; they matter. Loving God and loving neighbor matter. It may look a little crazy or even a little reckless, but it is not a life of reckless abandon. It is a life of faithful abandon. What would a life of faithful abandon look like for you?

There is one other aspect of faith that we have touched on but not explored. That aspect is doubt. We typically view faith and doubt as opposites, and as such doubt becomes the excuse for our lack of action, or our lack of faith. But nowhere does it say that Abraham was without doubt. He just did not make statements of doubt; he made statements of faith. “Doubt isn’t the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith.” Paul Tillich said that, and I believe it is true. Doubt exists within faith, and thus they kind of work together. Since faith and doubt do work together, all of us can be encouraged. Because the doubts we may currently feel about the statements of faith God is calling us to make—well, those doubts are really early steps of faith at work in our lives. So worry not. Just keep on walking. Amen.