Faith is a Certainty

I can't get around this one today:

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for. " [OTT - Old Troll Translation, from Memory.]

So, wait. Faith is being sure? It is a certainty of what isn't seen?

That's not how it is sold, usually. When it is sold that way, too often it comes in the form of faith's counterfeit: a transactional guarantee - sort of like the name it-claim it promises you sometimes see on the television.

By faith, we understand that the universe was formed at God's command. By faith, Abel brought God a better offering than Cain did, and by faith he was commended as righteous when God spoke well of his offerings. By faith, Enoch was taken from this life without experiencing death. He could not be found, for God had taken him away. Before he was taken, he was commended as one who pleased God. Without faith it is impossible to please God, because in order to please God, one must believe that He exists and that he rewards those who earnestly pursue Him.

Faith, in short, is more than "a belief with some doubts." It is less than "a certainty without humility." It is something else: weaker and more powerful, strange and mundane. Evidenced, unproven and sure.

God is way weirder than me.

A Spectacularly Ineffective Marketing Ploy

Trust me, I know how to make money. I made a bunch in a basement a few years back and got a most-expenses paid extended stay vacation at a United States Federal Resort.* You humans and your quaint little Treasury Department and currency guidelines!

In any case, I'm a decent marketer, and not too shabby in the public relations department. My motto is "speak softly so you can whack the maximum number possible with a big stick before they know what is happening."

But when it comes to marketing my own creative works (such as a hand carved sludge pot or a rock I chewed on once), the marketing becomes more personal. My "brand" (if it must be called that) becomes a lot more strange.

For instance, I've got no problem casting out a simple slogan like "Thumbtack 3000 will change your life." I know, I know, it is just a thumbtack, but I really believe that a good thumbtack will improve the life of someone, as long as they are in need of a really good thumbtack at the time. (Which is why marketers hardly ever say: "Thumbtack 3000 will change your life unless you don't need a thumbtack." See? I'm a marketing genius!)

But when I'm trying to pitch someone how my inspirational, personal, handmade sludge pot will change that person's life, I sort of get quiet. My slogan becomes "My artfully crafted sludge pot will change your life. For the worse." That is in part because my sludge pots might ruin your day. (I have a dazzling little pot, perfect for any decor, that happens to spew fire and poisonous gas as a bonus feature. It cost me a few lesser phalanges and a negligible number of distant relatives.) But it is also in part because although I live in the strange every day, I don't know how to market the strange without being honest.

I can't say "Come to the Strange! It's wonderful, like a mountain of candy!" without mentioning that it may cost you your kidney. I may be a monster, but I'm an honest one.

I'm the same about the Gospel. Sure it is good news (in fact, the only good news), but I'm usually careful to mention that accepting it may cost you everything. Faith in Him is really, really difficult. Every day.

So, if you are in the market for weird, have I got a deal for you. Just be warned: someone's going to owe me a kidney.

*This is slight hyperbole. However, one time when I was just a shoat (young ogre) I did put a penny on a railroad track. It derailed the Rock Island Line and snarled transcontinental shipments for weeks. Uhm, yeah. But to call it a federal counterfeiting conviction is a bit of an overstatement.