What does it mean to live a life of faith?

James wrote:

You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone. In the same way, was Rahab the prostitute not justified by works also when she received the messengers and sent them out by another way? For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead. (James 2:14-26)

Paul made a contrary argument:

 For we maintain that a person is justified by faith apart from works of the Law. (Romans 3:28)

I’m proposing today that the apparent contradiction in these two passages is caused by our confusion about what faith is, and maybe is a reflection of what I have been calling antifaith.

What does it mean: “To live a life of faith”? As a youngster, my life at church was dominated by stories of faith. One I remember well is a story of faith and answered prayer during the Second World War, in the Solomon Islands. Out of curiosity, I searched for it on the Internet, and found it:

Boats were the only means of transportation in the early days of the Solomons Islands. The Seventh-day Adventist Church has been very instrumental in the spreading of the Gospel in the Islands of the Pacific. The Advent Herald was first of the kind followed by many others, including the Varivato, Laoheni, Vinaritokai, Dani, Raratalau, GFJones, Batuna, Dandavata and Melanesia. The Advent Herald was a ketch of 32ft and was contained in the MV Mindini when it arrived at Gizo wharf at the Burns Philp dock. The following story is an example of how God has protected His properties in time of trouble and uncertainties.

THE PORTAL

When Japanese forces attacked Rabaul in January 1942, it was decided that all European women and children of the mission would be evacuated to Australia. On the January 8, 1942, the MV Melanesia took the women and children to Gizo where they boarded the SS Malaita for the voyage to Sydney, departing Gizo on January 12, 1942. When Rabaul was taken on January 25, the men abandoned their posts and set sail for Australia in the MV Melanesia.

During the war the mission was entirely in the hands of Solomon Island missionaries who led by one of the first converts from Marovo Lagoon, Kata Ragoso. The story of Portal tells of bravery, courageous men from the villages in the Marovo. A major in the British army was in charge of his majesty’s fleet in the Marovo. The fleet was made up of ships which really belonged to the mission but the army had taken control of them. They were the Dandavata, the Portal, and the GFJones. The Flagship was the Dandavata.

The Japanese were coming fast through the Solomons planning to get to Australia. This tiny fleet of God’s ships had fought without ceasing against the enemy. They had been successful in keeping the Japanese out of the Marovo Lagoon.

When the village men told the major that the Japanese were coming and that he would have to leave quickly he decided it was time to go. He gave orders for the three ships to start up and get going. The Danadavata and the GF Jones had more modern and newer engines than the Portal, and they started very easily and were ready for the sea. The engine of the Portal refused to start. There was no time to waste and because the major did not want the Japanese to have the Portal he gave orders for the Portal to be burned. He did not like doing this but there was no other way.

Two drums of petrol were emptied over the ship and the major himself struck a match and threw it into the cabin of the Portal. Immediatelly, there was a roar and a sheet of flame reaching to the masthead took hold of the Portal. The major, satisfied that the Portal was burnt, boarded the Danadavata and headed for the open ocean.

Our Seventh-day Adventist men could not bear to think of the Portal burning so they prayed to God asking Him to do something to save the ship. The flames were burning in the cabin and the rigging with fury. Suddenly, almost as though an invisible blanket had been put over the ship, or some giant breath had given a mighty puff, the fire went out.

The men were convinced that God had heard their prayers and they shouted, ”Portal hemi boat bilong God. Hem nating bone!” The men decided to try and hide the Portal from the enemy. With some swimming and others using poles, they managed to get the ship into the mouth of little creek in among the mangroves. By this time it was getting dark and the Japanese force passed by without seeing them. Through the night the men worked hard, lowering the masts, and taking down the awnings. Palm trees were taken from the jungle and placed around the deck. When daylight came the ship was so well disguised that it looked as if there was no ship there.

But the men’s work was not finished. They decided that if the Japanese came back and found the boat they wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be able to use it. So, what did these clever men do? They took the engine to pieces, bit by bit. These bits were given to different men and told to care for them faithfully so that when the missionaries returned they could rebuild the engine. Some pieces were hung in trees, others hidden in the ground. And some worn as necklaces around their necks.

The fighting continued and although the planes flew over the Portal every day it was never discovered. At the end of the war when the missionary returned, he found a ship he thought had been burned but it had no engine. But suddenly from all directions came the engine parts and soon the Portal was ready to do God’s work again. The men looked at the missionary and said, “Portal, emi ship bilong God. Hem nating bone.” (Source: https://record.adventistchurch.com/2014/05/30/100-years-of-adventism-in-solomon-islands-pt-2/)

Every Mission story was a profile in faith. Every missionary was a paragon of faith. Lost things were found, treacherous situations where averted, destructive weather was turned aside,… all because of the faith of the missionary or the faith of some willing believer or maybe even a child. I cannot recall a mission story of loss or failure or unfulfilment. I remember thinking I must not have much faith because such things would never happen to me.

We’ve always felt and we’ve always taught that our faith should be muscular, strong, unrelenting, and irresistible. And not just my faith alone, but our collective faith, which we think of as a bigger and better, more frequent and untiring faith. The notion that through our own effort, through the tenacious display of our own faith, we can leverage God to act on our behalf is, I believe, antifaith; not true faith. The teaching of Jesus makes this clear. Muscular piety was the continuous expression of the faith of the Pharisees.

We see this in the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican found in Luke 18:9-14. The Pharisee exhibits what we have always considered to be strong faith, faith which is linked to one’s individual devotion, piety, and service. We see no doubt whatsoever in the heart and in the mind of the Pharisee; only tremendous confidence in his own faith. His righteousness has no hesitancy to place his faith before God, confident of God’s blessing, confident of God’s attention to his cause, confident of God’s response. This is strong faith. This is muscular faith. This is living the life of faith as we’ve been taught it.

Yet Jesus said:

 “For I say to you that unless your righteousness far surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 5:20)

The Pharisee’s prayer reflects a faith centered on not being an extortionist, on not being an adulterer, on not being unjust; and on what we do—pray, fast, give tithes. This is not true faith but antifaith. Faith centered on what I do and don’t do is self-righteous antifaith. It lacks the provision of God’s grace which is seen in the humble, penitent prayer of the man of true faith—the publican. Authentic faith is centered on God and what he does. Our piety, our religion, our righteousness, our self-confident faith, is, according to Isaiah, nothing more than filthy rags.

So what does it mean to live a life of faith? Not, perhaps, what we’ve always believed. Jesus illustrates a life of faith with the dramatic story well known to all of us in Luke 10:25-30—the parable of the Good Samaritan. The story is set on the road between Jerusalem and Jericho; really, the metaphorical road of life where there are those who espouse faith and those who live faith. Jesus contrasted these in response to a question from a lawyer about eternal life, telling him that to inherit eternal life, you should love God and love your neighbor as yourself. The lawyer then asked: But who is my neighbor?

Who would have thought that true, authentic faith was related to how I treat my neighbor, not just to my attitude toward God? The priest and the Levite are men of purported faith, holy men on the road of life, attentive to God (it seems) but not attentive to their neighbor, to mankind. They are full of antifaith, self-centered faith, self-righteous faith. The Good Samaritan demonstrates true, genuine faith; humble, selfless righteousness.

What does Jesus want us to take away from this parable as teaching points of faith? How are we to understand the answer to the question: What does it mean to live faith? I propose five points:

• First: On the road of life, which all of us travel, we must be alert to the needs of others, and feel compassion for those in need. This means to live a life of faith.
• Second: Each of us has a toolbox of faith assets, which can be employed when a tool is needed to help. The Good Samaritan had a donkey. He had dressings, he had medicinal oil and wine to bind up the wounds. He also had money. All of this was in his toolkit. You and I have different tools. Some of us have time. Some of us have empathy. Some of us have advice and wisdom, some have companionship, some have provisions to share, some have money. None of us have all the tools that we need all of the time. But when our tools match the needs, then true faith responds.
• Third: To live a life of faith we should expect the unexpected. Moreover, we should be willing—when needed—to detour on the road of life.
• Fourth: While we cannot solve every problem every time, true faith takes ownership and if necessary passes on the need to someone else. The Good Samaritan did not have lodging and he did not have much time, so he took the man in need to an inn where he could get lodging and the innkeeper’s care We can draw on others to underwrite needs for relief that we cannot provide ourselves.
• Fifth, and perhaps most important: Jesus teaches here that this is the judgment, the test of true faith. It exposes our faith as either being true faith or antifaith on the basis of our response to the needs of others. It is not the muscular leveraging of God’s power on my own behalf but a humble recognition that on the road of life I might find myself just as the Good Samaritan found himself as one of the players in the parable.

This then is the answer to the question of Jesus: “When I come, will I find faith on the earth?” Living a life of faith is not, as we’ve taught, that my robust faith can save me from trouble and save my crops from disaster. Living a life of faith is about being perceptive to the needs of others on the road of life. It is faith that is robust in the service of others.

But if the road of life is about others, what about me? Can’t I get some help too? Can’t my faith help me? It turns out that on the road of life we are all of these players, depending on the time and circumstances. At some time, I am the Good Samaritan. Sometimes I’m the man who’s fallen amongst robbers, and I’m in need myself. And, sadly, sometimes I am the priest or the Levite and I walk by on the other side. In the kingdom of heaven we are called to be the hands and the heart of God: You for me and me for you. And that’s why we are called to be a community of faith. That’s why we are called to assemble as two or three in God’s name so that we might hold each other up.

So what does faith do for us? We’re promised peace (we talked about that a couple of weeks ago). We’re promised the assurance of the 23rd Psalm (we talked about that last week). We are promised a shepherd who will guide us. We are promised oversight and companionship. We are promised light in a dark place. We are promised the goodness of God. Carolyn asked last week about our guardian angels—aren’t we promised those too? It’s interesting to see that nearly every time an angel shows up to help someone, they’re not called by the person in need but are sent by God. It was thus for Elijah in the wilderness, for Gideon, for Jesus following his wilderness experience, and even for Balaam; all of the angels that showed up were angels which were sent; they were not requested, they were not called.

Jesus himself spoke of this in the garden of Gethsemane when he declared that he could have called upon the resources of heaven and God would have sent 10,000 angels (Matthew 26:53). True faith leaves the angels in God’s hands. He will send them when his goodness feels that it is best. To live a life of faith is to humbly submit to God’s will, to recognize him as your shepherd, and to resist the overwhelming urge each of us has to leverage God on our behalf.

Donald: I think of faith as service—which is really what you’ve just said. You can really see whether you are faithful by how much service you provide to others. But the challenge is you’re overwhelmed. There’s so much need out there. Through modern communication we are alerted to so many needs that you want to throw up your hands and say: “I don’t know how I can help everybody!” So it can only really be your neighbor. The pool you can help is very small compared to the pool of needs that exist.

C-J: Faith to me is relationship. And if I think of it all the way down to where we live, as humans on the planet, it has to do with the people with whom we bond, to whom we make a commitment, doing service with joy, stretching ourselves to new places of being. But it’s always relationship—and humility. I think faith is what you said: “Thy will be done.”

In all scriptures, whether it’s Judeo-Christian or other belief systems, it’s about grace, forgiveness, generosity of spirit, giving things someone may need or offering help before they ask. It’s always relationship faith, because that can come back and bite you or be perceived as accusatory: “Are you saying that I can’t (or won’t) do it for myself?” Relationship is a building process. The more pebbles we put in the jar, the more people are able to trust us. The more the work is seen as a gift and not with an ulterior motive.

Bryan: It was pointed out last week that the key component of faith is the same as unworthiness, that this is the true sense of faithful, that you may have hope and you may have expectation but in the end you know that you are not worthy for God to do something on your behalf, that you deserve nothing from God. I’m not sure I like that statement. I think we do deserve something from God: We deserve what he’s promised. He made a lot of promises in the Bible and at the very least we deserve those. How we get to those I suppose is kind of what we’ve been struggling with.

What we don’t deserve is a genie in a bottle. But there are a lot of examples in the Bible of men who have influenced God’s decisions, influenced the way God has thought, influenced the things God has done. Take Lot, for instance, in Sodom and Gomorrah: That was definitely influencing God’s reaction to the people who lived there. So it has happened in the past, but it is questionable whether we can do it now. This bold, muscular faith—faith as an action word—creates a lot of problems, but if you bring it full circle, God’s will is really the crux.

Using faith to accept God’s will is probably what it’s all about. I used to think that saying something was God’s will was a cop-out because my faith should have been able to influence God’s will in my life or in the lives of those I pray for. But if we accept God’s will as faith, then it brings peace because it takes it out of our hands and puts it in God’s hands where it really belongs.

David: As a Taoist and raised partly in eastern traditions, I have a real problem with this word “deserve.” You hear it all the time on American TV: “You deserve this new fridge! You deserve this, that and the other!” Deserve is very powerful word. To me, it means you have to have done something in order to merit some reward. So do we deserve the things that God promised? I don’t think it follows that you deserve something you did nothing to earn, even if it has been promised by God. You can certainly be disappointed if a promise is not fulfilled, but you deserve nothing.

In the eastern tradition—in religion and in society in general—there is almost no such concept. You get what you get. What happens, happens. What we seem to have arrived at in our discussion is that faith is essentially doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. It’s the golden rule. It’s what the Good Samaritan followed. But there’s no sense in that parable of anyone’s “deserving” anything. The Good Samaritan didn’t “deserve” to be lumbered with a stranger who needed a great deal of help. And we don’t know that the stranger had done anything to “deserve” either to be beaten and robbed or to be helped afterwards. So I would prefer to take this word “deserve” off the table. I think America as a whole would be much better to take it right out of the dictionary.

Don: But don’t we all feel like we deserve something? I feel like God promises me something, so I must deserve it! If my dad tells me I’m going to get an ice cream if I do my homework, don’t I deserve it? Don’t we have expectations of God, that he will stand good on his promises?

Jeff: Maybe “deserve” is not quite the right word, but we should be able to hold an expectation if somebody says “If this, then that.” The bottom line is, we have to be able to have some expectation of result when somebody says “That’s gonna happen.” So I don’t know if “deserve” is the right word but certainly having expectations based on promises given I think is a reasonable starting point.

C-J: But everything’s in a state of transition, nothing is etched in stone. If I tell someone I will do x then something else intervenes and changes my ability to do x or my perception of how that might work out, what then? I try to qualify a promise: “If I’m able at the time to fulfill this, then I’ll do it, but I cannot control what happens between now and then.” The ball is in God’s court. It can bounce anywhere at any time. My relationship with God (the creator, the divine) is one of grace and gratitude.

Jeff: Is that not the point of the difference between God and us? That ultimately God says “I am, and this is the way it always is.” Therefore you can expect consistency and expect him to play his role. Certainly, we might not have defined his role correctly, but one of the ultimate differences between us and God is that he can be counted on to do what he says.

Donald: Isn’t that another word for trust? If someone doesn’t follow through with what they say they will do, you lose trust in them. I understand that things change but eventually we may lose trust. It’s human nature, it seems.

C-J: The problem is that we’re trying to make God fit our world instead of transforming ourselves into a different place. My whole relationship with God is to enlighten me, to make me a better human being. God can see around corners; I can’t. The whole thing is about that relationship of allowing myself to be malleable without expectation. As I get older, it’s easier for me to not have an expectation that God will meet my need but that I will come into an understanding of what in the (spiritual) world is going on?—How am I being transformed, even if it’s nothing more than just saying, “Thy will be done”? And not to say: “Explain this to me,” and looking in the rearview mirror and saying, “Oh, now I understand!” Because I don’t think I’m really fully capable of understanding the eternity of it. It’s too big.

Kiran: I like the five points brought out from the Good Samaritan parable. The Good Samaritan didn’t expect anything from God. He didn’t call the name of God. He didn’t have true Judean faith. But he did everything expected by Jesus for a true life of faith. My overwhelming view has been that only a true Seventh Day Adventist or a true Christian can live a life of faith, but that’s not true. It humbles me much to think of my arrogance as a “true believer of God” and the damage I may have done to people not of my faith.

At the same time, it is a beautiful realization because until now I thought of faith as something you get in response to your penitence, prayers, and worship. Hindus don’t expect anything from their gods as a matter of course. First you have to climb seven mountains, shave your head and give your hair, and do other things before you can expect to get something back.

Bryan: I would probably agree that the word “deserve” probably has a lot more negative connotation in the Western world than it does anywhere else. It might be a Western concept. I’m probably more comfortable as well with “expectation” instead of “deserve.” If we are to believe in God, we should be able to believe that the promises he made to us would be fulfilled. Basically, we were thrown into this world, we live in it, we try to live the best we can with what we’ve been given. And we’re looking to God for help, to have faith, to have belief, so that the promises he made to humanity mean something to us sufficient to grasp them and use them in our daily lives.

Donald: We are raised in the context of a culture and a church and belief and trust and so on. Eternal life is one of the key points of a faith discussion. If you don’t have eternal life, you’re going to hell. What do I deserve? I deserve to go to hell, probably. But because of Christ I have the opportunity to have eternal life. But we are taught that on top of eternal life we’ll have streets of gold. All of a sudden, we’re rewarding, which makes the issue quite complex. Aligning our new view of faith to our doctrines that really speak to “deserving” something is not easy.

C-J: I think there comes a point in everybody’s walk, regardless of what they choose or feel most comfortable with, where we have to ask whether the scriptural texts that we use are literal or figurative? I think they they point us in a direction that helps us to come to an understanding in that relationship. I do not see—and forgive me if I offend anybody—out of experience, time, or place that I can without question accept the literal, inerrant, hard copy of any text that I’ve read. And so I always look for the meaning. How is this going to help me here now in all my relationships?

I don’t believe in a physical domain where there are streets of gold, but streets of 100% clear, soft, malleable gold reflects like clear water. I look for that kind of understanding. There is no motive. There is no exchange. It is the ability to let form, power (meaning all authority), and grace transform us into a person who says, “Here I am. Use me however will serve you and others best”—”you” being just a word meaning the divine, without form, place or limitation.

When we as human beings say of a text: “I can (or I must) believe all of this” we should remember that as children all story was inerrant truth to us. As we grow, we know there probably isn’t just one truth. It isn’t that God goes away, or lies to us, but the preachers and their rituals became something entirely different. So if we have subscribed to a text or belief system, we find ourselves boxed in, and I don’t want to box in something that is greater.

It’s really liberating. Initially, it’s kind of scary—”I’m gonna go to hell if I question God. What if I’m wrong? No one will like me anymore. What about this body I’ve called my spiritual community? They’re gonna ostracize me. They’re gonna say I’m a fallen person. I’m left out in the cold. That’s what you get for unbelief!” I walked that back and forth. It’s like “How hot is too hot?” When you get close to the stove, don’t touch it, you’ll get burned.

Jay: We’re really changing faith from a passive into an actionable thing as in the story of the Good Samaritan. It starts to blend together faith and works. We often think of faith as a cerebral trust in God, a recognition that he’s in control, but still our thought process takes us into the physical domain where faith is actionable, and it moves.

When we think we deserve and/or expect something from God, that’s not necessarily bad but I do believe that we as human beings will definitely screw up what we think we deserve or expect, because we don’t want to be broad in those things. To expect that your sins will be forgiven is a promise that I can see being pretty easily fulfilled. To expect that God’s grace is free and poured out on everybody is something that I can understand and get my mind around. But there’s no doubt that while we as human beings are happy to start there, we’re not happy to end there.

It is when we start to define those expectations clearly, or define what we deserve in very specific terms that we start to “doctrinize” what’s going on and we become Seventh Day Adventists, Jehovah’s Witness, Muslims, whatever the case may be. I’m not saying that’s bad but if you specify exactly what we should expect from God, exactly what we deserve, then you are saying you understand the will of God, you understand exactly how God should act. That’s a pretty dangerous place to be.

When you look in the Bible at instances where man has leveraged something to change the mind of God, the results aren’t usually that great. Lot lost his wife because he leveraged God. Hezekiah lost a kingdom. To think that we should be leveraging our faith to change the mind or bend the will of God, to ask mercy or plead for results different from what God might have planned, just seems so arrogant. Why would you do that? If God is a God of love and grace and mercy, why in the world would you want him to do something different from what he does? I just can’t get my mind around that.

Don: Because I just don’t know if he if he’s paying enough attention to me! I’m just a little bit concerned that he doesn’t quite have me in the hollow of his hand and I want to be there!

Carolyn: We are so blessed because God gave us Jesus as a comforter. I think we often leave the Holy Spirit out of our conversation. If we work with the Holy Spirit every day and listen to his admonition and advice as to what we should do next, he can help us in so many ways to take away the arrogance and be able to function in a spirit of gratitude. And yet, we can also have joy in seeing how the Lord is delivering on so many of his promises. Sometimes we don’t see them, because we are intent on what we want. I think the Holy Spirit should be part of our lifestyle. We have to work with him constantly.

Jay: Does God have your best interests at heart, as he understands them, not as you understand them? Are those God’s priority or not? And is God incapable of being wrong? If those things are true, then God has my best interests at heart and he’s incapable of being wrong.

Jeff: Then you’re putting expectations on God. Again, the whole point is that we have to have some sort of an expectation of who God is or what God can do. Otherwise, the whole concept makes no sense.

Jay: The general expectation I put on God is that he is a God of love and mercy and won’t mess up.

Jeff: Everybody can get their heads around those. But wherever you define the line between defining our expectation of God and who he is, that’s where the problem comes. We all might hew to the literal Word of God yet discard some part of what the Bible says. There’s a whole gray area wherein you choose to draw that line and I agree we’re likely to screw it up. But I don’t think we can say we have no expectation. This all started from the concept of “deserving” which I kind of pushed back on because I don’t like that term. But I don’t think we can have a divine versus human construct without having some expectation of who or what a god figure is and what role it plays.

C-J: The Islamic faith has 99 names of God: Comforter, Peacemaker, and so on. The first time I heard that, I thought: “That is very cool.” Because for us in the finite, we can truly say (if you want to line up cause and effect): “If he’s my Comforter, I can believe that if I’m in the right frame of mind I can see the comfort in whatever is happening, either for myself or for another.” And sometimes I have to defer to another because their need is greater than mine, or because I love that person so much I don’t care if they go before me in terms of who gets what, when or how.

So I like Carolyn’s idea that the Holy Spirit, this divine entity, does commune with us, is evident, and is manifested. But that word “deserve” is a real stumbling block. It’s a problem. It’s an entitlement. Every time I hear it in a commercial advertisement, I just want to scream, I’m so tired of those two words: “Entitle” and “deserve.”

I agree with Carolyn that the divine—the Holy Spirit—operating in us is a promise I embrace. When I believe in something greater than myself, that spirit is welcomed into me by conscious decision. I surrender to it when it is made known to me. And that relationship is something I desire to work on .

Jay: I believe in a broad expectation because I need to build a construct. The question is, can actionable faith lead to our not needing specific expectation or for deserving? That’s where I see the pitfall. I can get on board with needing constructs, as human beings with brains; but in order to build constructs we have to have expectations, or definitions maybe might be a better word. The pitfall is in narrowing down the constructs so tightly that you put God in a box. I think it’s pretty clear that we shouldn’t be doing that and we’re actually incapable of doing it anyway. Does actionable faith as described through the Good Samaritan story keep me from doing that or lead me to doing that? That’s the question I have.

Reinhard: God knows our shortcomings. Because of sin, we fall short. Of course we all have expectations but we don’t focus on them because God knows what is best for us and for our salvation. He wants us to live happily on this earth and in the life to come. Faith is the key. Faith is the passport to get through all these hurdles.

James expected works with faith. When we have faith, of course we’re going to be obedient. That’s the key. Works are the manifestation of what we have in our heart to do the work of God. The Good Samaritan helped the victim on the road to show his compassion. Compassion is only one aspect of works. We have other things in our attitude toward our fellow wo/men, and, of course, when we have this faith, we love God and everything falls into place. So whether we have expectations or not is not the issue, because once we focus on God, God knows what’s best for us.

To me, when we have the right faith, as we grow closer to God in our life, it also shows in our class life You don’t have to be God to reflect a Christ-like character. The Holy Spirit will help us and will strengthen our faith in him. And then our faith will be reflected in our works, in our obedience to God. We’re going to do the work of God when we have strong faith and a strong relationship with God.

Donald: So what brings us together every Saturday morning? Is this a faith community? We’re talking about this mainly at the individual level—it’s about me and God. What binds people together where two or three are gathered?

David: Jason noted that as human beings we tend to need to build constructs to make sense of the material world around us. But we’re talking now about the spiritual world, the divine world, about which we know nothing so we cannot (or should not) try to construct it. Carolyn is beyond constructs. Her cup runneth over. She’s the embodiment of the 23rd Psalm, which says we are blessed—period. Whether we deserve it or not doesn’t enter into it and there’s no construct involved. It’s simply a matter of having faith in God and acknowledging the inner light, the Holy Spirit, which is absolutely vital. If there has to be some kind of construct, it must be very, very sparse in detail and very, very broad in concept. That pretty much sums up the Daoist construct, such as it is.

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