Is That Really the Salvation We Want?

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
October 26, 2025
Proper 25, C
Sirach 35:12-17
Psalm 84:1-6
Luke 18:9-14

“Jesus told a parable about those who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.” I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that having contempt for other people still goes on. In fact, looking at other people and thinking, “They’re a piece of crap,” happens a lot. 

Just last Sunday, we had a near fight because one guy did something that irritated another guy, who then said something about it, which irritated the first guy. At that point, it was just back and forth. “He did something wrong.” “No, he did something wrong.” “He’s a terrible person.” “No, he’s a terrible person.” Spouting insults at each other, one ready to punch the other guy right there. 

Both were unable and unwilling to see their part of the problem. Both were unable and unwilling to say to themselves, “Maybe I did something that bothered this other guy,” and then say to each other, “I’m sorry about that.” Both saw themselves as the righteous one in the conflict, and both regarded the other with contempt.

Now, you could say that the argument between these two gentlemen last week had nothing to do with religion or seeing themselves as righteous in God’s eyes. You could say this was totally different than the Pharisee in Jesus’ story, bragging to God about how good he was, fasting, giving away his money. You could say two guys arguing with each other is different than some religious leader giving thanks to God about how good of a person he is. You could say that, but you’d be wrong. 

If asked, “Are you righteous before God?”, I’m sure both of these gentlemen would have answered, “No, I’m not righteous before God. I’m a sinner. No one is righteous before God.” The contempt they held for each other, however, shows that they at least felt more righteous than that guy, and they might have said so even before God. 

To be fair, I’m pretty sure most of us have numerous people we would want to stand before God and say, “But at least I’m not as bad as they are, right?” When asked, with regards to religion, “Are you better than other people?”, I’m guessing most of us know the “right” answer, “No. We all sin. I’m no better than anyone else,” and at the same time, I’m guessing most of us feel better and more righteous than other people when those other people bother us and do things we think are stupid. 

Are you better than that other person? “Hell yeah, I am! I mean, not in God’s eyes.”

Truth of our belief is now shown in giving the right answer. The truth of our belief is shown in how we feel about others and how we treat others. 

The Pharisee in Jesus’ story wasn’t treating others well. He was probably a really good guy, but in his view of being better than others, he was trapped in the sin of pride. We are often trapped in the sin of pride. Even when we’re right about the other’s faults, we can quickly fall into pride. From there, we very quickly fall into fighting with one another, getting pissed off all the time at every little thing people do around us. 

Is being right and constantly angry at every little thing people do around us really the life we want? “Thank God I’m not like that guy who said something stupid or did something bothersome.” “Thank God I’m not like that whole group of people who are terrible sinners. I’m a sinner too, of course, but I’m not like one of those people. The church taught me that those people are sinners, so thank God I’m not like them.” 

Is that really the salvation we want? Is a salvation of anger, pride, and irritability really the salvation we want?

Perhaps if we truly trusted how beloved we are, then we wouldn’t have a need to be better than anyone else?

See, beneath that sin of pride is the terrible fear that deep down, I’m not actually good enough, and I’m not actually beloved.

Look at the Pharisee in Jesus’ story. His fasting and giving a tenth of his income away were great things, but why was he doing them? Was he fasting and giving away part of his income to follow the correct rules and therefore have God be pleased with him? Was he in a competition with others for God’s love, in which only the best people really got loved by God? 

It looks like he was, except that’s not how love works. God doesn’t need to love you less to love me more. 

What if instead of wanting to do enough for God to love him, the Pharisee trusted that God loved him and then fasted and gave money away to be of help to others and to control his desires, so he didn’t do as much harm to others? Then, he might not have been looking down on the tax collector. He might have even heard the tax collector’s prayer and offered to show him the way of love.

“I heard your prayer earlier,” the Pharisee might say to the tax collector. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I heard your prayer, and I wondered if I might offer my belief that God loves you absolutely. God sees you, with all your faults, with all your sins, and God says, “My beloved.” 

What change might have happened then? Perhaps they’d have talked more. Perhaps the Pharisee could have suggested that the tax collector seemed fearful and seemed not to love himself that much. Perhaps if the tax collector learned to love himself more and to trust how incredibly beloved of God he was, then he begun living the kind of life he wanted as well. Maybe he wouldn’t have cheated people out of their money, but been content with what he had and worked to be of good service to others. 

Last week, there was another couple of guys who almost got into a fight. It was during breakfast, and the reason they didn’t get into a fight is because the one who was being insulted simply got up from the table and walked away. There was a guy at the table insulting him and threatening him, and instead of being tough and getting angry, he simply stood up and walked away. 

Walking away was treating the aggressor as a beloved one, choosing to leave, rather than harm him. Now, I doubt that was his thought. I don’t think that what went through his head was, “Hmm, you’re insulting and threatening me, but you are so beloved, I won’t harm you.” No, his thought was probably more like, “This guy is a jerk, but I really don’t want to fight. Also, I don’t much care if he insults me.” 

Trusting in God’s love, he didn’t need to fight over being insulted. Trusting in how very loved he is, the guy was able to walk away rather than fight back. He may have looked weak, but it didn’t matter because he knew how beloved he is. 

Fear and lack of believing that we are loved leads to pride, so that when we are insulted or bothered, we fight right back. We need to look strong. We need to look tough. We need to be right. Trusting how beloved we are, we don’t need to be right, or tough, or strong. God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9), and God loves us not because we are strong or right. God loves us simply because we are. 

My prayer for this morning is that we will all trust just how darn loved we all are. You are so loved. God became human, right? God loves humans so much that God thought it would be a good idea to become one of us. God became human as Jesus, and when Jesus died, he was resurrected; he was raised from the dead. In Jesus’ resurrection, God showed us that death is not the end of life, so we need not fear. God has declared us so beloved that God wants to keep us around even after we die. We get to live together, dwelling in God’s love. 

Why would we then declare ourselves anything other than beloved? Why would we declare other people anything other than beloved? When others bother us, remember that they are beloved, and remember that we are beloved. We are so ridiculously loved by God. 

Damnit, God! How Long Will You Ignore Me?

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
October 19, 2025
Proper 24, C
Genesis 32:22-31
Psalm 121
Luke 18:1-8

We have an adorable, 30-pound, terrier-pinscher, mutt-thing of a dog named Thor at home. He is sweet as he can be, a little neurotic, and dumb as a stump, by which I mean he’s actually not that dumb; he just has a mind of his own and doesn’t necessarily do what we want him to do all the time. Take eating, for example. We’ll put the food in his bowl, and if he’s not really ready to eat, it’ll make no never mind to him that our other dog, River, will eat all of his food, followed by all of hers. 

He knows he won’t get more food, so if he’s really hungry, he’ll stop her, otherwise, he doesn’t much seem to care that we want him to eat. He’ll just do without.

When it comes to eating our food, however, he is always hungry. The fact that he rarely ever gets our food doesn’t stop him from staring up at us, not whining, not being a pest, just staring, waiting, full-on expectant, loving puppy dog eyes. 

Not our daughter, but
still Thor begging food.

He did this with our daughter just the other day, following her around the house for five minutes as she went from room to room, eating her breakfast sandwich. We all watched, along with our daughter, chuckling, and eventually, he wore her down. She gave him a bit of cheesy, eggy biscuit, and he trotted off, happy as a dog with a bone…or bacon. 

Thor does this all the time, and he knows that most of the time, he’s getting nothing, but he still tries. He tries because maybe not today, maybe not this week, but eventually, his persistence will pay off, and he’ll get some bit of the people food that he dearly loves. 

So, regarding Jesus’ lesson, teaching us to pray always and not lose heart, my family is like the unjust judge, and our dog, Thor, is like the widow, wearing us down by his persistence. Would that we all had the same persistence in faith and prayer as that little dog has in getting people food, and yes, I realize I just compared all of us to dogs begging for food. Oops. 

Of course, so did Jesus and the Gentile woman who asked Jesus to heal her daughter. So, lesson learned? Call yourself a dog, and Jesus will give you whatever you want? Maybe not?

Faithfulness is what’s really going on: keeping at our faith even when we’re really tired of waiting, keeping at prayer and living the ways of Jesus. That’s what Jesus taught the disciples, “to pray always and not lose heart.” 

So, how’s this prayer sound? “Damnit, God. How long will you ignore me? How long will this crap keep going on? How long are you going to do nothing?”

Sounds a bit cheeky. Maybe a little heretical for a prayer, but it’s not. It’s really just a more modern, angsty teenager version of Psalm 13. “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me for ever? How long will you hide your face from me? Look upon me and answer me, O LORD my God” (Psalm 13:1, 3a)

Damnit, God. How long will you ignore me? How long will this crap keep going on? How long are you going to do nothing? 

“Pray always, and do not lose heart,” Jesus said. Now, sometimes you can’t help losing heart. That’s part of what prayer is for, to offer ourselves to God in those times when we have lost heart. The challenge is to keep praying through losing heart. Keep praying while you lose heart.

Jesus’ advice is to keep praying that “How long, O Lord?”, prayer. It’s an honest prayer. So, keep praying that prayer until it changes from “How long, O Lord?” to “Thank you.” That’s what happens in Psalm 13. The prayer changes from angsty teenager, “How long, O Lord?”, to “Thank you, Lord.” That change may take a while. It may take a long while. The change from “How long?”, to “Thank you,” may take a lifetime or many lifetimes. 

There were times for the people of Israel when it was generations before the prayer changed. Looking at life here in the United States, civil rights and equal rights for all people has been a struggle for generations. The “How long?”, has in many ways been changed to “Thank you,” and yet there are many ways we are still praying, “How long, O Lord?”

The change may take generations and longer, and so Jesus asks, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

What do we do while we are persistently praying and waiting? Our behavior has a lot to do with the answer to Jesus’ question. “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

Will Jesus find us waiting patiently, prayerfully, and faithfully? Will Jesus find us living his teachings as we wait? That’s a question not only about our faith and faithfulness, but also the faith and faithfulness we may inspire in others. 

See, regardless of how much we pray or what we pray, what people see us doing is what they’re going to believe about Jesus. Truth be told, regardless of what we pray or how much we pray, what we do tends to show us where our faith really lies. 

In Bible study last week, we were talking about the ways of Jesus: forgiveness, choosing non-violence, etc. “That’s crazy,” one person replied. “In here, in the church,” he said, “it’s easy to talk about forgiveness and non-violence. Outside when you’ve got people coming at you all the time, it’s not so easy. It seems crazy to follow Jesus’ teachings out there.”

Well, yeah. As Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 1:18, the Gospel does seem foolish, and yet it is the power of God. The ways of the streets are, be stronger, be tougher, be mean so you can survive, and it’s hard as hell not to be, and yet, that’s the way of the world. Are we going to put our trust in the ways of the world, or are we going to put our trust in the ways of Jesus?

Non-violence seems crazy. Fair enough. Non-violence in the face of injustice seems crazy, and yet it was non-violence that brought about the greatest change in the Civil Rights Movement. Looking at today, street protests seeking justice are good, until they get violent. Once violence starts, the people seeking justice are seen as villains, and so the justice they seek is seen as injustice. 

When a group of people cries out, “How long, O Lord?”, but also engages in crime and drugs, fighting and hurting other, how could that people expect that God should grant justice? The crime and violence delay any justice that could come, because the people who might have grant justice no longer will. They no longer see people in need of justice, but simply criminals in need of punishment.

Crying for justice doesn’t work if we do not also follow the ways and teachings of Jesus. “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” 

Where will Jesus find that our faith lies? What will our actions show about where our faith lies? How long are we willing to wait and be persistent in prayer to bring about the justice and peace we desire? How long are we willing to trust in the ways and teachings of Jesus as we wait for justice and peace? 

Are we willing to live the prayer and teachings of Jesus for generations as we wait for justice to come? Are we willing to be faithful over generations so our children and grandchildren can live the fruits of our faithfulness? 

If not, our children and grandchildren will live the fruits of our faithlessness and violence. We will hand them the same injustice and violence that we suffer. 

If we are faithful, however, if we continue in prayer, if we risk enough to follow the ways and teachings of Jesus, then our prayer will turn from “How long, O Lord?”, to “Thank you, Lord.” It may not be today. It may not be this year. It may not even be this lifetime, but the prayer will change. Justice will come. Even if it takes generations. If we are faithful in prayer and in action, if we follow the ways and teachings of Jesus, the prayer will change from “How long?”, to “Thank you.”

Yeah, but This Ain't Enough: Choosing Gratitude

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
October 12, 2025
Proper 23, C
2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c
Psalm 111
Luke 17:11-19

Have you ever noticed how much we tend to take things for granted? We tend to get bored with things pretty quickly, and even with really great things in our lives, we often end up desiring something better or something more. We get so accustomed to the blessings in our lives that we no longer notice them. We no longer give thanks for them. We end up taking our blessings for granted, giving no more notice of them than our belly buttons, or our left pinky toe, or one random arm hair.

When we stop noticing our blessings and stop giving thanks for them, they kind of fade for us, like the sun on a cold and rainy day. It’s still there, but we can’t see it, can’t feel it’s warmth on our skin. When we stop noticing our blessings, they are still there, but we can no longer feel the warmth and healing of them in our hearts. Taking things for granted leaves us decaying on the inside. Faith, hope, and love dim as we take things for granted. The antidote for that, the bright light to shine in our hearts and revive our faith, hope, and love, is gratitude.

Jesus healed ten people in the story we heard today. All ten of them had leprosy, a terrible and contagious skin condition, so they were no longer allowed to be near other people. They were quarantined away from others and had to shout when others came near, warning them to stay away.

So, when these ten were healed of their leprosy, you’d think they would all have been so excited and grateful that they’d run back to Jesus and thank him, giving praise to God, but as we heard, that didn’t happen. Only one of the ten came back glorifying God and giving thanks to Jesus. 

Did the others take their healing for granted? Probably not. I imagine they were pretty darn happy, and they definitely were going to show themselves to the priests because the priests were in charge of ending their quarantine, but they didn’t go back and give thanks to the one who healed them. Maybe they just didn’t realize Jesus had healed them? After all, the healing happened when they were on their way to the priests, Jesus didn’t really do anything like wave his arms or touch them. Maybe they didn’t notice that he was the reason they were healed? 

No one’s that thick, right? Well, yeah, maybe they were. 

How often do we not see blessings in front of us? How often do we stress, fret, and get upset about problems, when there are good things around us if we would simply notice them? How often might we be healed if we simply noticed and gave thanks for the blessings in our lives, rather than taking the good things for granted.

In our reading from 2 Kings, Naaman seemed to take for granted that he should be healed. If there was a great healer, he should be healed by him, personally. Naaman was a big deal, and he should have been given the utmost respect and honor, he felt. So, when the prophet Elisha sent an underling to tell Naaman, to go bathe in the river, Naaman was pissed. “Doesn’t this prophet, healer guy know who I am, how important I am?”

Naaman’s pride got knocked down a few pegs, didn’t it, and because of that, he was no longer taking everything for granted. Naaman was no longer assuming everything should be owed to him, and so he became grateful for his healing, rather than take it for granted.

Taking the blessings in our lives for granted, rather than being grateful for them leaves us cold and in darkness. Gratitude, on the other hand, heals us, saves us, as surely as the physical healing touch of Jesus.

Giving thanks, rather than expecting more, that’s part of faith, part of a faithful life with God. We see this truth played out in Adam and Eve’s unfaithfulness to God.

Adam and Eve weren’t grateful for what they had. They took it all for granted and wanted more. “Thanks so much, God, this garden is absolutely wonderful. All of the trees, fruit, animals, top notch work on your part, God, and looking at each other, whoo, nice. So, truly, thanks a bunch, but we’re not really satisfied. Seen this, done that, so we’re just going to go ahead and take that thing you said not to.

Lack of gratitude from Adam and Eve, and suddenly all the beauty and wonder of everything around that was so good suddenly seemed grey, drab, leeching sorrow rather than bringing joy. “Yeah, it’s good, they thought, but it’s not good enough. We deserve better.

Imagine being in paradise with your ideal, perfect companion. You don’t have to work because the ground just makes food for you. You get to just enjoy life, walking with God and one another, truly not a care in the world.

Can you imagine ever saying, “Yeah, but what more is there? This isn’t enough?”

Yeah, me too. Given enough time, we tend to always find what’s lacking, what’s not good enough. Even given paradise, we’ll find a way to say, “Yeah, but it could be better.” 

Every time we do, we end up shutting ourselves off to the blessings we have, longing for some imagined blessing that we don’t have, certain that life would be ok if only we had that imagined whatever. 

The better woman or man to be with. I can’t accept this one’s faults and flaws anymore. They’re still fine, but I deserve better. I just found out something about them I don’t like that much, so I’m moving on. If there is a way to take a blessing for granted, we’re probably going to find it.

That’s why we need Jesus. That’s why God became one of us as Jesus. We start taking blessings for granted, and God is a part of us, guiding us back. By God becoming human, Jesus is in and through all of us, each one of us, so we can strive together and build each other up in gratitude. We can help one another notice our blessings. 

Now, this doesn’t mean we don’t get to be sad. Of course we get to be sad. There’s some really terrible stuff in the world. If we aren’t saddened by the horrors around us, well, then we have blinders on just as much as if we ignore our blessings. 

Choosing gratitude as a way of life does not deny pain and sorrow, but choosing gratitude does help us heal from pain and sorrow. The Gospel is ultimately all about our healing. So, a question is, do we take the Gospel for granted? Do we take the union with God and one another that has been given to us for granted? Do we take God’s forgiveness of us for granted? Do we, therefore, no longer notice the Gospel? Do we no longer notice God’s grace? Do we live lives without gratitude?

Of course we do. Like Naaman, like Jesus’ disciples, like the nine people Jesus healed, we all, at times, live without gratitude. We all stop noticing the blessings in our lives, sometimes something as simple and ordinary as the air in our lungs. So, we are reminded to notice. Look for and notice the blessings in our lives. When some blessing happens in our lives, give thanks to God from whom all blessing flow. 

That’s faith, choosing to notice the beauty and joy of life. Choosing to give thanks, sometimes even when the rainclouds gather and we can no longer see the sun or feel its warmth on our skin, we give thanks anyway, trusting that the blessing is still there. As we give thanks and choose gratitude as a way of life, then faith, hope, and love spring forth again in our hearts, and we find new and healed life once again. 

Poppy Seeds and Drowning Trees

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
October 5, 2025
Proper 23, C
Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4
Psalm 37:1-10
Luke 17:5-10

“Increase our faith,” the disciples commanded Jesus, and Jesus said, “No.” Strange, huh? How often was God pleading with the Israelites to have more faith? How often did Jesus say things like, “Do not doubt, but believe”? You’d think of all things that they would ask for, faith is one that Jesus would say, “Sure, man, more faith, deeper faith, all the faith you want, you got it!” That’s not what happened, though. He told them, “no.”

What Jesus was really telling his disciples was, “You don’t need more faith. You just need to do well and trust with the faith you’ve got.” 

That’s how the disciples had chosen to live, trusting Jesus and living as though his teachings really were the best way of life for them…until Jesus said ‘forgive people, like, a lot.’ That’s what Jesus had taught them just before they said, “Give us more faith!”

These are the same folks who had been healing people and casting out demons in Jesus’ name. Jesus told them to go do that, and they were so excited. They didn’t cower down and say they weren’t ready or not strong enough in faith. They went out boldly, healed the sick, and cast out demons like Buffy the Vampire Slayer on speed. They came back and were swapping stories, so excited.

Then, weeks or months later, Jesus taught them to forgive people who wronged them, not just once or twice, but over and over. Forgive people, Jesus taught, a lot, because people are kinda messed up, and they keep messing up, and as often as they do and then turn around and try to make things right, Jesus taught to forgive. Over, and over, and over, forgive people. 

Suddenly the disciples were saying, “Forgiveness, eh, eh, are your sure about that one, Jesus? Yeah, maybe I don’t trust you that much after all, but thanks a ton. It’s been great, loved casting out demons, don’t think I have enough faith in me for forgiveness, though.”

So, Jesus told them, no. You’re not getting more faith. You’re not getting more belief. What you have is enough. He told them that if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to a tree, “Hey Tree, go throw yourself into a lake,” and the tree would pull its own roots out of the ground, walk over to the lake, and throw itself in. 

Now, I don’t think Jesus meant that we would or could actually do this. As a kid, I wondered, “Why can’t I make a tree throw itself into a lake? I guess my faith isn’t good enough?” I don’t know, maybe I only had a half a mustard seed or just a poppy seed of faith. 

No, Jesus doesn’t mean that we’re failures in faith if we can’t actually make a tree walk to its death in a lake. Jesus was using this kinda weird image to illustrate the point that his disciples didn’t need more faith to forgive people as he was teaching. Whatever small amount of faith they had was sufficient. What they needed was faithfulness. 

What they needed was to trust Jesus and be faithful to what he taught. Then, their faith would grow. Like not by faith alone, but also by faithfulness. That’s what we heard in Habakkuk. The righteous live by their faith, or really by their faithfulness. 

The disciples thought they didn’t have enough faith. Perhaps they doubted and so thought they couldn’t be faithful because of their doubt.

The opposite of faith, however, is not doubt. Jesus talked about faith the size of a mustard seed. That ain’t a lot of faith, which means you’re going to have doubt. In fact, you can’t have faith without doubt. Doubt goes hand in hand with faith, and we wrestle with it.

Mother Theresa, for example, was hugely faithful to God’s calling on her to care for orphaned children in Calcutta, India. She devoted her whole life to those children, and throughout her life she had faith and struggled with deep doubt. She wrestled with it, and Jesus didn’t grant her more faith. The faith she had was sufficient, and she remained faithful with even that small amount of faith. 

So no, the opposite of faith is not doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty. I don’t need faith to know that two plus two equals four. I need faith to believe that the people in my life who love me actually love me. I mean, I’m pretty sure they do, but I can’t read their minds. I trust them. Love is based on trust, on faith, and faith requires humility enough to admit that I don’t know everything, and I’m going to trust anyway. 

Through my wrestling with faith and doubt, I too wanted more faith, until I realized that what I really wanted was certainty. I’d so often heard people talk about their faith as certainty. Pastors would say they know their faith is true beyond any doubt, and I could never get there. I finally realized that I could never know with certainty, but I also realized I love God becoming human and joining with us physically in every part of our lives, and I love it so much that I choose to believe it. I still don’t know. I still have doubt, and I choose to believe anyway.

I admitted this to a group of pastors during a Bible study one day, and there was stony silence in the room. Finally, one of them said, “Well yeah, I have doubts just like you’re talking about, but I’d never admit that to my congregation.” There was agreement throughout the room by the rest of the pastors who all wrestled with doubts but who put on a show of having certainty in their faith. 

That means that those pastors were all lying to their congregations. They would never admit having doubts. They were pretending to have certainty that they didn’t have, and they were leading their people to think that they had to have certainty too. That means that these pastors were inadvertently leading their people away from the humility of faith and toward the pride of certainty.

Certainty says, I must be right. I am so certain that I am right, that I won’t even question it. You disagree with me. You, therefore, are not only wrong, but terribly, stupidly, sinfully wrong. 

The pride of certainty is not faith. That sound like how a lot of religious and political discourse goes nowadays? Behind certainty is the sin of pride. I am right. I know better. I am so important. I can put myself in God’s place. God said not to eat this fruit in the Garden of Eden, but I know better. I will do it anyway and place myself above God. 

Jesus said have faith the size of a mustard seed. Well, I’m going to do better than that. I’m going to have huge faith, certainty with no doubts. There’s pride there. Something is hard to believe or do, so I’ll go with certainty, rather than faith, and I’ll make sure that anyone who disagrees gets put in their place because despite what Jesus said, faith isn’t enough for me. I need certainty. 

No you don’t, Jesus said. Just have a little bit of faith, and follow that faith up with faithfulness. Trust in my ways, Jesus taught us, even when you’re not sure. Set yourself aside and trust in Jesus’ ways and teachings as we walk this life together. When I don’t think forgiveness is right, ‘cause it sure doesn’t feel right, I’m going to assume I don’t know everything. I’m going to trust in Jesus instead.

Faith is humble enough to believe in something, knowing that you’re not sure, and even not being sure, choosing to give yourself over to this belief. Faith says, I will give my heart to this belief. I will choose to live as though this faith is true. I will choose to live as though the teachings of Jesus really are the best way of life for me. I will let go of the certainty of self and humbly accept this little amount of faith, and follow where it leads.