Good morning,

I am pleased to have been asked to deliver a reflection this morning on the readings designated for this Sunday. Kathryn asked if I would volunteer to relieve her of "sermon duty" for a Sunday, and this was the date she suggested.

As you know, we have been hearing from several guest and lay speakers over recent months. This is in recognition of Kathryn's heavy duty of responsibility here at St John's since Garth's retirement. Kathryn, you all recall, came to St John's as a Curate, immediately following her ordination as a deacon. She has been priest-in-charge since January.

As a member of Corporation, I want to share with you what a delight it has been to work with Kathryn over these last several months. Truly, in her we found more than we could ask or imagine. I encourage all of you to come to church this coming Friday evening to thank Kathryn and wish her well as she heads up the Valley to assume her first incumbency!

I was a bit surprised, when I checked out the readings for this Sunday, to find that I would be reflecting on St Paul's letter to the Romans. This is not the first time I have been invited to share my thoughts about this letter in this parish.

That particular homily, delivered 11 years ago, dealt with the nasty bits in this letter. St Paul begins with a racist, xenophobic diatribe against the Gentiles, accusing them of every kind of evil and malice. Then, at the beginning of Chapter 2, he turns the tables onto the Jews, accusing all who stand in judgment to be equally guilty of malice.

The part of the letter we are reading this morning occurs after St Paul has finished his rant, after he deplores what he witnesses and asks if there is anyone who is righteous, even one. Midway through Chapter 3, St Paul states his central thesis - the central thesis of the letter, certainly, but in many ways also the central thesis of St Paul's entire ministry.

At verse 28, we read the following: For we hold that a person is justified by faith, apart from works prescribed by the law. This has been a central tenet of the Church as a whole, and of our particular tradition. Salvation is ours through faith.

So what is "faith"? This is the question upon which I would like to reflect this morning.

Faith is certainly in the news these days. In the United States, we have heard over the last 8 years about "faith-based initiatives" and "faith-based lobbyists". On the best-sellers lists we find Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion, and similar books by authors such as Chris Hitchens and Sam Harris. Religious faith in general is derided as delusional, and Christians specifically are derided as misguided.

Certainly in our parish life, this is an active question. In Bible study groups or other Christian education programming people question their faith, question whether or not it is sufficiently deep or committed.

When collecting perspectives for our parish profile, several people suggested that one of the distinctive features of this parish was its openness to doubters and the questioning. When drafting the document, I put these thoughts into these words: St John's is a place which welcomes the faithful, those of little faith, those with doubts, those of no particular faith, and those of other faiths. It is quite a remarkable statement. It is, I think we would agree, true.

So I return to my question, what is faith? To be more specific, what does the Bible teach us about this notion of "faith"?

In Greek, the language of the New Testament, the word translated into English as faith is pistis. This word can be translated into English in two ways. Pistis means, firstly, to trust in, or have confidence. It also can be translated by the word "believe".

These two renderings are not very different. The English word "believe" also means to trust or to have confidence. If I were to say to you, for example, that "I don't believe in lawyers", you know what I mean is that I don't trust, or have a great deal of confidence in such people.

The same is true in English of the word "faith". To "lose faith" in someone means that they have lost our trust, or our confidence. When we accuse someone of acting in "bad faith", we mean that they have acted in an untrustworthy manner.

It is interesting that, in Hebrew, there is no equivalent for the Greek word pistis. The Hebrew words from the Old Testament most often translated as "faith" are mostly variations of the Hebrew word Amen.

"Amen" signifies assent. It used to be, in French Canadian churches, that prayers would end with the acclamation ainsi soit-il, "So be it", an excellent rendering of the meaning of the word "Amen". Nowhere is the meaning of the word clearer than in many African-American churches, where the preacher's exhortations are often greeted with enthusiastic cries of "Amen!" from those gathered. To say "amen" is to say yes. To be a person of faith is to say "yes".

In the Hebrew scriptures, faith is not defined so much as it is described. It is important not only to have faith in God, but to have faith in all the divine attributes - love, mercy, compassion, justice, and so on.

It is this aspect of faith that Richard Dawkins and his kind don't seem to understand. To be a believer, a person of faith, is not necessarily about "getting it right". This is precisely what gets us into trouble in our modern, western world, with its Post-Enlightenment, scientific worldview.

In our modern society, the word "believe" has come also to mean something that is verifiably true. Because the existence of God cannot be scientifically verified, Richard Dawkins believes we are all delusional.

But this new and modern meaning of the word "believe" does not replace the older meaning. To go back to my example, if I were to say "I don't believe in lawyers", I don't think any of you would understand me to mean that lawyers don't exist (although that might be my prayer)!

Religious belief is a different kind of "belief", and we get into trouble when we confuse the two.

Last year, I attended a dinner where Bishop John Chapman was the invited speaker. During the question and answer period which followed his remarks, someone questioned his commitment to inter-faith relationship-building. How could he believe in St John's declaration that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, and that no one could come to God except through him - and at the same time cooperate with non-Christians? [John 14:6]

The Bishop's answer was intriguing, and one I find very helpful. Religious faith, and truth-claims are two different ideas, he explained. To be a person of religious faith does not give anyone the right to say, "I'm right, and everyone else is wrong". Such is not the nature of religious belief. To be a person of faith is instead to be confident in the path one has chosen, to trust.

This is also a question that has been bedeviling us in the Anglican Church in recent years. A word much bandied around these days is the word "orthodoxy". This is a fancy-pants word that means simply "correct belief".

The group called Anglican Essentials in 1994 issued a declaration of what they considered essential aspects of correct beliefs for Anglicans. It is a long list, and includes such things as belief in the concrete reality of the virgin birth, and abstaining from any sexual activity outside heterosexual marriage.

A local priest associated with this particular movement once patiently tried to explain it to me. Ron, he said, only from orthodoxy comes orthopraxis. (Orthopraxis is a fancy-pants word which means correct behaviour.)

Really? It seems to me that our Gospel reading this morning suggests otherwise. Jesus adds another meaning to the word "faith" which is also very helpful. Not everyone who says to me, Lord, Lord, will enter the kingdom of heaven we read. [Matthew 7:21] We are called to both hear, and to act on the words we hear. Here, the author of St Matthew's gospel, written long after St Paul's letters, gives a modest correction. We may be justified by faith, apart from works prescribed by the law. But to have faith in the way of Jesus is to act as he did, which Jesus identifies as the true marker of faith, rather than fretting about the definition of our faith, or simply proclaiming it.

Many of these issues will come to a head next months, when Anglican bishops from around the world will gather in Canterbury for the diennial Lambeth Conference. Those of you who have perused this month's copy of CrossTalk will know that I, and at least three other members of Integrity Canada, plan to attend. This will be the first ever international gay and lesbian gathering at Lambeth. Changing Attitudes in the UK this year extended invitations to groups in Canada, the United States, Nigeria and Uganda to join them.

Our purpose there is not to protest, to be disruptive, or to hold demonstrations. It is simply to witness. Much of our time will be spent in devotional activities. We have organized displays and special events so that our bishops can hear the voices of gay and lesbian people of faith. We do not insist that we are right, and they are wrong, for that is not what it means to be faithful. We want to demonstrate only our faith.

I doubt many of you have noticed, but I have only recently started making the sign of the cross during church services. At our most recent diocesan symposium, speaker Brian McLaren, someone from a very Protestant tradition, and explained the gesture in this way. I trust in God, with my head, with my heart, and with my hands.

This, I believe, is our calling - to go out into the world, trusting in God, inspired by the witness of Jesus, and comforted by the Holy Spirit, to be God's hands, sharing God's love and mercy and compassion and justice with all. If we truly believe, this is what we do.

Can somebody say "amen"?