Trust Is the Coin of the Realm

Image: Enlargement of the 20-dollar bill, downloaded from Wikimedia

Around the turn of the century, I encountered a man who signed his forum posts with: “Trust is the coin of the realm.” It has captured my imagination, and I ponder over the truth of it. After a meeting with fellow Republicans, I blurted out, "yes, it's important to get the message out, but it's also important that people trust the messenger." Sometimes I surprise myself.

I've often prayed for a Great Awakening (a religious revival is a grand American tradition), but I've recently read an article about how church membership has dropped below 50% in America. It's worse than that. Besides the demographic implosion the West is heading towards, most children are rejecting the faith of their parents (even when these parents are deeply committed to their faith in practice, that is, these are not lukewarm Christians).

Now, it's all in the hands of the Holy Spirit, and we accomplish nothing without God. I take that as a given. I don't take that as an excuse not to try, but I recognize that my evangelization efforts are not about me. As Mother Teresa said, we're not called to be successful, we're called to be faithful.

Faith has two major meanings: it can refer to the teachings of Christ, what we believe, and it can refer to trust. Trust in God is faith in God. Insofar as we are close to God not only in orthodoxy but also in practice (Thy will be done), we are building up a trustworthy society. In an early Internet handle—"a hermit from Hudson"—I was announcing a temperament; I'm an introvert. That is, I found it tiring to be around people because I don't trust people. As fallen people, we are unworthy of trust. I find it amazing that other people trust so readily. Generally, I've found that on average, Christians are more trustworthy. But we are all prone to sin, and we wouldn't be able to help ourselves if it were not for God.

Still, Christianity as a religion (or a group of denominations, if you prefer) is not a magic cloak. Merely denoting oneself as a Christian, and attending church services every week (or every day) is not enough to protect oneself from the fires of hell. "Not every one who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 7:21). So conversion and repentance are necessary, and I personally find it to be a daily battle.

In America, this spills into politics, because as John Adams noted: "Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious People. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other." It makes sense. As a result of our nation's collective trust in God, God provides the grace so that we might trust each other. But it's easy to see that this trust has broken down. And that leads to a high level of polarization, which furthers the distrust of others.

To throw another quote in the mix, Solzhenitzen explained:

More than half a century ago, while I was still a child, I recall hearing a number of older people offer the following explanation for the great disasters that had befallen Russia: “Men have forgotten God; that’s why all this has happened.”

So I see the need for change. The temptation is to make it external: "you need to change, I don't." I think this is a huge problem right now. The left thinks the right should change, and the right thinks the left should change. Well, that should change. I'm not referring to ideology here. I'm talking about the initial proclamation of the Gospel: "repent!" And insofar as ideology is taken above the Gospel, that ideology needs to bend a knee to the Gospel.

So I see two things in tension. I recognize that God is Almighty, that He could, if He wills, to effect great change in America and in the entirety of what used to be recognized as Christendom. But in God's loving plan, He gave us free will, such that He will let us reject Him. In the contest of the soul of the country, it is the trustworthy God against fallen men with hardened hearts. Who will win? I recognize that if fallen men "win," they really don't win, but I have a certain confidence in the stupidity of mankind as species.

And here's a final problem. I've long recognized that we cannot use Christianity as an instrument to improve the country. I think this has been a problem on the right for religious conservatives, for a long time. That is, others see Christianity as part of the conservative ideological program. That is, Christianity is a truncheon to get everyone in line. In the film, The Book of Eli, the antagonist seeks the last surviving Bible in order to use it to gain power over others. And I think it's possible that there are those on the right, and even those who are professed religious leaders, who also think in this cynical fashion. That is, I see that this is one way in which all the messengers, the evangelists, are seen as untrustworthy. The Church is entirely God's, and it is His instrument on earth, not to make America better, but to bring souls into Heaven. That is, we should evangelize a person out of love for that individual, rather than salvation for the nation. It's a tricky problem for American Christians, because we know an important side effect of helping souls get on track toward Heaven, trust is restored as the coin of the realm.

Think about it. It took our Lord and Savior to get nailed on the Cross for us to get it through our thick skulls that He loved us so much. I'm thinking that martyrdom, red or white (i.e. death or persecution short of death), that is, dying to self, is probably the only way for one thick skull to really trust the unworthy Christian: "I do this out of love for you, not love of me." Anyone who says Christianity is an easy religion, or about certain happiness in this life, is a fool. Christianity is hard, so hard that we couldn't do it without God's help. 

(note: this was composed in early September before the prior post "Kiss of Jesus," even though it is published after it. As such, I think it reflects a darker state of mind, and I held off posting it until the storm clouds had dissipated somewhat.)

Kiss of Jesus

Painting: Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee by Ludolf Bakhuizen (1695), downloaded from Wikipedia

Before Mass today, I received an incredible consolation from this passage of St. John Henry Newman, at time an Anglican writing in 1837, before his reception into the Catholic Church on 9 October 1845:

But in truth the whole course of Christianity from the first, when we come to examine it, is but one series of troubles and disorders. Every century is like every other, and to those who live in it seems worse than all times before it. The Church is ever ailing, and lingers on in weakness, "always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in her body." Religion seems ever expiring, schisms dominant, the light of Truth dim, its adherents scattered. The cause of Christ is ever in its last agony, as though it were but a question of time whether it fails finally this day or another. The Saints are ever all but failing from the earth, and Christ all but coming; and thus the Day of judgment is literally ever at hand; and it is our duty ever to be looking out for it, not disappointed that we have so often said, "now is the moment," and that at the last, contrary to our expectation, Truth has somewhat rallied. Such is God's will, gathering in His elect, first one and then another, by little and little, in the intervals of sunshine between storm and storm, or snatching them from the surge of evil, even when the waters rage most furiously. Well may prophets cry out "How long will it be, O Lord, to the end of these wonders?" how long will this mystery proceed? how long will this perishing world be sustained by the feeble lights which struggle for existence in its unhealthy atmosphere? God alone knows the day and the hour when that will at length be, which He is ever threatening; meanwhile, thus much of comfort do we gain from what has been hitherto,—not to despond, not to be dismayed, not to be anxious, at the troubles which encompass us. They have ever been; they ever shall be; they are our portion. "The floods are risen, the floods have lift up their voice, the floods lift up their waves. The waves of the sea are mighty, and rage horribly; but yet the Lord, who dwelleth on high, is mightier."

It's strange to those outside the faith—and indeed, even to some of those who profess faith in Christ—to find joy in suffering. It's not the joy of suffering, but the peace found within the eye of the storm.

For an example outside of a religious context, I think Ross Viner's brush with fame, and singing on stage with Sting might help. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJqQjMpgNcA

On stage, it's a moment of joy, but it's obvious that Sting wrote the song at a painful moment in his life. And even within the song of pain, Sting relates the moment when he smiles:

I took a walk alone last night
I looked up at the stars
To try and find an answer in my life
I chose a star for me
I chose a star for him
I chose two stars for my kids and one star for my wife
Something made me smile
Something seemed to ease the pain
Something about the universe and how it's all connected

In the moment of suffering, a person connects with transcendence and finds joy.

In 33 Days to Morning Glory, Fr. Michael Gaitley repeats a famous story told by St. Teresa of Calcutta: "At times you come so close to Jesus on the cross that he can kiss you. I once told this to a lady who was suffering very much. She answered, "Tell Jesus not to kiss me — to stop kissing me.'"

To be sure, consolations don't always come, and they cannot be expected, but sometimes, one can be so close to the Cross, that Jesus can kiss you. It's not the suffering that brings joy, but the intimate kiss of Jesus.