Faith
in Jesus Christ
by Charles
Malik
Charles Malik was
a distinguished Lebanese diplomat and
one of the drafters of the United
Nations Universal Declaration of Human
Rights in 1948. He served as president
of the thirteenth session of the UN
General Assembly in 1958. From
1966–1972, he served as vice president
of the United Bible Societies, and
from 1967–1971 he was president of the
World Council on Christian Education.
The following article is
a meditation on faith in Jesus
Christ. It is excerpted from the
book, Christ and
Crisis,Chapter 5, by Charles
Malik, written in 1962. It is lightly
edited to include some
helpful paragraph headings and some
light updating of modern English
usage.
“Lord, increase our
faith”
Nothing is closer to our life than faith
in Jesus Christ. If we have it, we know
how crucially important it is in our
lives; if we do not have it, we live
estranged in a state of permanent torment.
If we have it or if we do not have it,
faith in Jesus Christ is the first and
last meaning of our life. I do not care
who or what you are; I put only one
question to you: Do you believe in Jesus
Christ? If you believe in him, then even
though you are slandered and abused and
misunderstood and miserable, even though
you are dying, even though you are in
hell, you will shed a few tears on your
knees and, arising, you will gradually
mount to heaven where the angels sing. And
if you do not believe in him, then even
though you are in heaven, even though you
are the happiest and most secure person, I
am afraid for you.
In the anguished cry of the father of the
child with a dumb spirit, “Lord, I
believe; help thou mine unbelief” (Mark
9:24), we have the perfect expression of
the dialectic of faith. For faith in Jesus
Christ is not something we acquire once
and for all and then carry for the rest of
our lives in the manner in which we carry
our bodies or the color of our eyes; faith
in Jesus Christ is being constantly put to
the test; it is daily under trial; we have
perpetually to reacquire it again and
again. Thus we cannot take pride in our
faith as though it were thanks to us that
we had it or continue to have it; we must
always turn to him and say with the
apostles: “Lord, increase our faith” (Luke
17:5). For without his faithfulness we
will forthwith become faithless.
The trial of
Christians being a minority
One trial of our faith is when we consider
that after two thousand years the world is
still so much unchristian and the
Christians themselves are so faithless and
so unworthy of the glorious name they
bear. In their protected sentimental
complacency people do not know what I am
talking about. They must come out of their
comfortable shells into the wide-open
world to get the shock of their lives. The
world with which we have to deal is
largely unchristian and even
anti-Christian.
Our faith in Jesus Christ is very childish
indeed (would that it were childlike!)
until we find ourselves in the position of
David who tells us that after God had
“looked down from heaven upon the children
of men, to see if there were any that did
understand, that did seek God,” he found
that “every one of them is gone back: they
are altogether become filthy; there is
none that doeth good, no, not one” (Psalm
53:2, 3).
Our faith in Jesus Christ is very
rudimentary indeed (would that it were
primary!) until we find ourselves crying
with David, “Help, Lord; for the godly man
ceaseth; for the faithful fail from among
the children of men” (Psalm 12:1); with
Isaiah, “Lord, how long?” (Isaiah 6:11);
and with John, “Even so, come, Lord Jesus”
(Revelation 22:20).
We should first absorb the shock that the
Lord is somehow tarrying, that the world
will always be largely unchristian, that
the faithful will always be a very small
minority, and that none of us can be
absolutely sure that he belongs to that
minority, before our faith is truly
confirmed in us. Our faith must predicate
itself upon and accept these four facts
before it becomes real faith, before it
begins to merit any reward.
Faith lives on the
radical trust of God's mercy
When we really take in the radical
character of this situation, we can then
only trust the mercy of God. Faith is to
live on this radical trust of his mercy.
The problem of the election and the
remnant and the Church becomes then a
burning issue in our life. For all their
obscurity, pitfalls, and dangers, these
matters must be fearlessly faced. Paul and
Augustine and Calvin and Karl Barth were
not talking nonsense when they had to
wrestle with them, however we may agree
or disagree with some of their
conclusions; yet of the four, with Paul
at least I cannot say that I am in a
position or ever shall be in a position
to “disagree.” Man is free, yes; but God
is even more free; and it seems to be
his pleasure to hold some men captives
for him more than others. There is an
unfathomable mystery here, very much
like the “unspeakable words, which it is
not lawful for a man to utter” (2
Corinthian 12:4) which that strange
friend of Paul’s had heard in the third
heaven.
To live in a modicum of peace in this
world, a Christian, for all his zeal,
for all his missionary drive, for all
his burning desire in obedience to the
Lord to convert all men and all nations,
for all his kindliness and gentleness
and piety, must nevertheless accept the
sad lot of belonging to a permanent
minority. Did you hear?!—I said
permanent minority! This should not
disturb him because the possession of
Christ and the fellowship of the Holy
Spirit compensate for the loss of the
whole world. His deepest joy and sorrow
at the same time is that the others do
not have the vaguest idea what they are
living without. Faith must undergo and
survive this bitter test. And when we
affirm with Paul from the bottom of our
heart, “That at the name of Jesus every
knee should bow, of things in heaven,
and things in earth, and things under
the earth; and that every tongue should
confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to
the glory of God the Father”
(Philippians 2:10, 11), we do so in
humble but certain faith.
Loosing
oneself in the cares and
worries of the world
Unless we pass this fiery test and hold
fast to our faith, we might fall into
another temptation which could fritter
away all our faith or whatever of it was
left in us. We might become too much
preoccupied with the world and its
problems. Christians at times get
themselves overworked about the state of
the world. This is not a sign of faith
but of the exact opposite. They should
relax and trust Christ more. And so we
set about, with the best of intentions,
no doubt, and calling upon the power of
Christ, to save the world from
prejudice, ignorance, backwardness,
corruption, injustice, war, sin: in
short, from the grip of the devil.
Christians in a position of
responsibility, whether civil or
ecclesiastical, must certainly try to do
all this; they cannot face their Lord in
his day having been unprofitable and
delinquent in their tasks. But it is one
thing to go about saving the world, or
the humblest of situations in it, in our
own human power, and it is an entirely
different thing to trust that act of
salvation to God, while meantime doing
everything we can in obedience to his
will.
It is one thing to be nervous and
worried and concerned and unsure, and it
is an entirely different thing to let
Christ himself accomplish his work in us
and through us—calmly, quietly, surely,
and almost without giving his using us a
thought ourselves. But it is eminently
possible to lose oneself in the cares
and worries of the world and therewith
to lose Christ. The cry of “Martha,
Martha” (Luke 10:41) keeps ringing in my
ears when I behold people, including
above all myself, busy day and night
trying to save the world; especially as
I am not sure that in our business we
are adoring Christ enough; and our
adoration of him is the most important
thing possible.
Trust in God's
justice and pray for his mercy
Moreover, there are cases where, no
matter how much we may fret and fume, we
can really do nothing ourselves, or what
we can do is exceedingly limited in
efficacy. Things as it were must take
their own natural course, which might
include the possibility of the
manifestation of the judgment of God. We
can then only ardently pray for his
compassion. History is full of instances
where God had to manifest his wrath
despite every human effort and good
will. This is Paul’s verdict on paganism
in Romans. We can only trust God’s
justice and pray for his mercy. And
where that is obviously the case, we are
only frittering away our energies and
wasting our substance by worrying too
much or smiting our breast too severely.
There is a divine economy whereby we may
conserve our resources for the most
telling impact, upon the most promising
soil, at the most opportune moment.
It is perfectly clear that we can save
nobody and nothing if we are not first
sure of ourselves. In these matters we
can never bluff, we can never hide away
our truth. To have the world maddeningly
on our mind all the time is not the way
to be sure of ourselves. It is rather
the way to be distracted, to be unsure,
to be impotently spread all over, for
the world is completely uncontrollable
and there is absolutely no end to what
can and should be saved.
The dike of corruption cannot be plugged
at every point, because the points are
infinite. It is enough if an oasis of
health here and another there can be
secured. And so to be busy at this point
and that point and that other point is
often the way of escaping and fleeing
from ourselves and therefore from
Christ. It appears that the
contemplative method of Mary is
preferable. When I meet a soul hailing
from a life of profound contemplation
and prayer I immediately feel that the
whole world is being there and then
saved at his or her feet.
I think it is the Marys more than the
Marthas who are going to save the world,
although the Marthas are indispensable
in the process. Only those who stay very
close to Christ can help others who are
far away.
Only those who prefer him to everything
else, even to the call of the needy
world, can be used by him for the need
of the world. Only those who are not
lifted by pride to suppose that they
must carry the whole burden of the world
will be pitied by him, who does in fact
carry the whole burden of the world, and
[they will be] given a humble part of
that burden to carry with him. Only
those who go through one hell after
another without losing sight of
him—because even “if I make my bed in
hell, behold, thou art there” (Psalm
139:8)—will be granted the power, not in
their time, but in his time, to help the
world out of the several hells in which
it finds itself.
The victory of Christ in our lives is
the greatest thing, and in the end, the
only thing for which we should be
thankful. Our faith is never more keenly
tested than when, thinking we are going
to save the world, we really set
about—whether seriously or half in
jest—to save it. A sense of humor is of
the essence of faith, and the deeper the
mystery of faith, the more refined and
lively the sense of humor. And we are
quite without humor about ourselves
when, forsaking the way of Mary, we
readily follow in the footsteps of
Martha.
Trials facing
Christians in different
parts of the world
And yet Christians live in the world and
Christ never meant them to live out of
it. “I pray not that thou shouldest take
them out of the world, but that thou
shouldest keep them from the evil” (John
17:15). In the world, they must work out
their own salvation and as much of the
salvation of the world as possible. They
cannot wash their hands of what is going
on in the world. On the contrary, they
must take the most active interest in
it. Of none has this been more true than
of American Christianity, with its
wonderful missionary epic, ventured
forth and accomplished purely in the
name of Jesus Christ. What a crown of
glory has this Christianity laid up for
itself as a result of its prayers and
exertions and vision and loving
sacrifice and service all over the
world!
Now the importance of the emergence of
Asia and Africa from the Christian point
of view is threefold. First, it is good
and proper that these nations take their
destinies in their own hands. A
Christian can only rejoice at the sight
of people realizing and exercising their
dignity and independence. Second, new
perfections of the spirit are called for
to work out the proper creative
fellowship between equals. The
fellowship of equals is the end of all
fellowship, and therefore it should be
looked upon as the norm and rule. Once
perfected it becomes far more stable and
enriching. Third, Christians under the
new conditions will have to demonstrate
their faith in Jesus Christ in the teeth
of five trials. (1) They have to stand
firm as they face the resuscitated
tribal and national deities. (2) They
have to stand firm as they see old great
religions rediscovering and reasserting
themselves. (3) They have to work out
new creative dialogues based on our
common human nature and need. (4) Their
own governments often find themselves
embarrassed by them and by Christ. Now,
the Church should never meddle in
political affairs; she should never make
the truth of the Gospel dependent upon
the fortunes, which are more often
misfortunes, of systems and regimes and
persons. But in the impersonal formal
order of international relations,
Christians could find themselves a cause
of embarrassment to their own
governments. This is their trial and
their cross, and they should bear it
courageously, keeping in mind that
governments and politics and cultures
come and go, but Jesus Christ endureth
forever.
Facing alien
anti-Christian movements
And
(5) alien anti-Christian movements also
have to be faced. It could be said a
hundred years from now, it might be said
in heaven right now, that the
Christians, whether by default or by
folly or by sheer stupidity or because
they were comfortable and relaxed, lost
in the competition for the soul of Asia
and Africa in the sixties of the
twentieth century. For this is a most
crucial decade. We can only say with
Paul, God forbid! But let me tell you,
there are situations in which the issue
is very delicately poised. The Christian
debacle in China is a sobering warning.
I am not thinking of competition between
political systems: that is an affair of
governments, and that is a realm
completely other than what I am here
thinking of, a realm with its own
honorable rules, rhythms, and laws.
I am thinking of the competition for the
soul and mind of the people. I am
thinking of whether Christians, not
governments, can relax if the mind of
the people is poisoned with respect to
the name of Jesus Christ. Mighty forces
are moving fast into whole spiritual
vacua. Surely history will say a hundred
years from now—in so far as there will
be true history then—surely heaven is
saying right now, what was the matter
with the Christians, where were they?
Nothing therefore is more necessary than
to arouse responsible Christians from
their lethargy and slumber into both the
infinite dangers and the infinite
possibilities of the moment.
We worship a
person - not an idea
At the heart of the whole matter is
faith in Jesus Christ. Do we believe in
him as passionately as others believe in
their own ideas and systems? If we do,
then we ought to do better than they.
For we worship a person, they worship an
idea. We worship life and strength and
love and victory; they worship negation
and hatred. Christ can do without us; he
can raise up children to Abraham from
these stones; he may be secretly doing
so already in the vast spaces of Asia
and Africa. And so if we fail him, it
cannot be that he failed; we will only
have proven that we are unprofitable
servants. Nothing puts our faith to the
ultimate test more than the concrete
challenge facing us all in Asia and
Africa today...
The ecumenical
movement and testing of faith and
unity
The ecumenical movement provides another
field for the testing of our faith.
There is the National Council of the
Churches of Christ in this country.
There is the World Council of Churches.
There is the pope’s announcement in 1959
that he would call an Ecumenical Council
to examine, among other things, the
question of unity, and now 1962 has been
set for the convening of this Council.
The Ecumenical Patriarch Athenagoras I
has been working hard to see how the
Orthodox Churches may be brought
together and how the cause of general
Christian unity may be furthered.
Important discussions have been going on
lately, in books, in magazines, and in
private circles, on this theme. There is
therefore an apparent urge among the
Christians everywhere to see if they
cannot come closer together.
Side by side with this there is an
evident withdrawing of each communion
into the sources of its own independent
strength and belief, a tenacious if not
a violent holding to what it knows and
has received. A sincere urge towards
unity, yes; but also a desperate
clinging to your tradition lest you let
go some truth that Christ has vouchsafed
you. I myself can bear witness that I
never was so conscious of the infinite
wealth of what has been handed down to
me in my own Orthodox tradition as I am
now; and yet I pray day and night for
the unity of those who have been
baptized in the name of the Father, of
the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Now this is a dialectical situation: in
wishing and seeking unity we at the same
time become exceedingly jealous of the
trust which Christ has been pleased to
commit to our keeping. I myself believe
this is exactly as it should be. No
unity based on sentiment or compromise
or politics or human considerations is
worthy of the Lord we know and worship.
Besides, such a unity will never come
about. We may seek and accept only the
unity he wants. And therefore we cannot
and we should not lightly yield on any
matter that we honestly regard to be
central to his will.
When such a dialectical situation
arises, it is then that there is lots of
hope. For the unity that is going to
come about is not our making but his
making. And God breaks through only in
crisis; he speaks and acts only in
tension. When all is smooth and well and
there is no problem, why should he
intervene? Herein comes our faith in
Jesus Christ. It is a fact which will
control all our further strivings that
we were one up until 1054. We must
therefore have faith that unity is his
will and that he will consummate it in
his own way and his own day precisely
through the tension arising from each
one of us holding firmly to what he
knows and yet all of us yearning from
the bottom of our hearts for the unity
of the body of our Lord. And I sometimes
have the feeling that some people do not
want unity, do not really believe in it,
but rather feel that disunity is a good
thing. What is needed therefore is
faith, faith in unity, and I am sure
Christ then will intervene....
The greatest
trial of our faith is ourselves
Of course the greatest trial of our
faith is we ourselves. We are trying God
all the time. And his long-suffering is
simply incredible. They talk of proofs
for the existence of God! We need no
proof save the simple fact that nobody
and nothing can stand us; therefore,
since nevertheless we are, there must be
an infinite Being who does. We exist;
but we are impossible; therefore a Being
must exist to bear our impossibility for
us; that Being is God. The impossibility
of man proves not only the possibility
but the absolute necessity of God. And,
what is more, our impossibility would
have remained hidden from us (as theirs
is indeed from all those who do not know
him), did he not choose to die, and
nowhere save on the Cross on a hill just
outside Jerusalem, in order to reveal
our impossibility to us, and, in
freedom, to make us possible and bring
us back to himself.
You know how it is
that in crisis the best in us and the
worst in us comes to the fore at the
same time. Everything in us makes
itself felt, the good and the bad. We
are like an undeveloped film, and a
crisis is like the sun bringing out
every little shade and light in our
character. It is when we see ourselves
that we may lose our faith. It is not
that we would then cry with David, “My
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me?” (Psalm 22:1). Would that we did
that! Would that we also added, “For I
have eaten ashes like bread, and
mingled my drink with weeping, because
of thine indignation and thy wrath:
for thou has lifted me up, and cast me
down” (Psalm 102:9, 10). It is that we
might then cease to think of God
altogether. This is our greatest
temptation, not our sin, but that the
devil, obsessing us with our sin,
might succeed in making us forget God
and his infinite compassion.
Shall we then lose our faith in Jesus
Christ because the worst in us has
made itself manifest together with the
best? What pride! Shall we lose our
faith in Jesus Christ because our
total personal truth has become
crystal clear? I can only say with
Paul, God forbid! I can only say with
him, “I thank God through Jesus Christ
our Lord” (Romans 7:25).
Only
Christians can say "Jesus Christ is
Lord"
Frustration because of imperfection and
sin? O yes! But thank God, Jesus Christ is
without sin and he is our Lord. Only the
Christian can say this. All others are
just as sinful as, or they may even be
much less sinful than, the Christians, but
they do not have somebody to look up to
who is without sin. It is not sin or
sanctity that differentiates a Christian
from a non-Christian; it is the Lord Jesus
Christ whose mercy the poor Christian
trusts. And you and I have known his
power, how in the twinkling of an eye he
is able to change everything and make us
into a new creature. And then, “Eye hath
not seen, nor ear heard, neither have
entered into the heart of man, the things
which God hath prepared for them that love
him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).
And so faith has been tested and through
God’s grace it has emerged triumphant over
hell and the devil, when it can say with
Paul, simply, quietly, and without guile:
“For I am persuaded, that neither death,
nor life, nor angels, nor principalities,
nor powers, nor things present, nor things
to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any
other creature, shall be able to separate
us from the love of God, which is in
Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38–39).
[This article is excerpted from
Christ and Crisis, Chapter 5, by
Charles Malik, and was first published
in English in 1962 by Wm. B. Eerdmans
Publishing Company. A new English edition
was published by Acton Institute in 2015,
with a forward by Habib Malik, son of
Charles Malik. Quotations in the author’s
text are from the King James Version
(KJV). Public domain.]
Charles
Malik was a Lebanese diplomat and one of the
drafters of the United Nations Universal
Declaration of Human Rights in 1948. In
1949, he was one of the signers of the UN’s
Convention on the Prevention and Punishment
of the Crime of Genocide. A decade later, he
served as president of the thirteenth
session of the UN General Assembly in 1958.
He held professorships at Dartmouth, Notre
Dame, Harvard, and the American University
in Washington, DC. He was awarded over fifty
honorary degrees in his lifetime. From
1966–1972, he served as vice president of
the United Bible Societies, and from
1967–1971 he was president of the World
Council on Christian Education.
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