I want to talk today about where risks and faith meet. And how we walk the line between “foolish for Christ” and just foolish. I’m not saying I have all the answers on where that line is…but I am saying we all need to ask the questions, and I think I’ve seen a good indicator of what those questions should be.
Faith, by nature, both starts from logic and then defies it. We can reason our way to many aspects of faith, and we can certainly talk intelligently about it. But there does come a point where logic says “play it safe,” and faith says, “take a risk and trust God.” This is a crucial part of true faith—that letting go of our own understanding and flinging ourselves into the arms of Christ. He will ask each of us to do that at some point, or at many points. Honestly, I believe the more we do it, the more He invites us to do it. The more He’ll stretch out His hand and say, “Okay, good…now follow me here too.”
But I’ve never read where Christ asked the disciples, or the apostles asked the early church, to trust in Him for their own convenience. I’ve never seen where He instructs us to assume God will make everything okay so that we can go out and seek our own will. No. He says we’ll be okay when we’re seeking His will. And “okay” may not mean what we think it does. It may not mean security or health or wealth as the world defines it. It merely means that whatever we have—be it plenty or nothing, be it pain or joy, be it health or illness—He will make us able to face it. That’s what that “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me” verse is about. Facing, living with, living through any circumstance.
And God’s will for the Church is clear: serve others. Sacrifice for them. Take risks to show them His love.
When the servants of the medieval church went out into plague-ridden Europe, it was not for their own pleasure. They weren’t doing what they wanted to do–they were going out to risk their own lives to serve those who needed it. Their top and perhaps only priority was to visit the sick and do what they could to relieve their suffering. They took great risks to accomplish this. Sometimes God protected them. Sometimes He didn’t. But they went out knowing that if they lived, it was to serve another day, and if they died, it meant being with Him.
We hear amazing stories of missionaries who have seemingly super-human immunities as they serve God in the bush…and just as many stories of missionaries who die or nearly die in that same service. We have stories of people overcoming all odds in service to Him, and stories of people who give up the fight on earth to go on to reign in heaven. This is our reality, friends—faith comes with risks, and sometimes the rewards are earthly, but other times they’re heavenly. The question, though, is this: WHY are we taking the risks? Is it to serve Him? To love others? To relieve their suffering?
Or is it for our own convenience and pleasure?
I’m going to get pointed, and this is where I’m going to offend some of you. I’m sorry if I cause offense—but if you have an emotional reaction to what I’m about to say, please, please do this. Ask yourself why. Why are your emotions tangled up in this? I’ll talk about why mine were, and why I decided to reevaluate them. If you’re reading this later, here’s some context—I’m writing this in the summer of 2021, during a new height of the Covid pandemic. Infection rates are at an all-time high, mask mandates are coming back, vaccines are available but widely eschewed by the faith community. I’m not going to talk about vaccines or their safety, masks or their effectiveness. What I’m going to talk about is how the prevailing stance by the American church is affecting our ability to proclaim Christ.
Let me tell you my personal story. When mask mandates started appearing in 2020, I thought they were stupid. I went out looking up articles that debunked their effectiveness (even though I only found 1 for every 100 saying they were effective). I avoided Maryland, where they were required, and did my shopping in West Virginia, where they weren’t (I live on the border, so this isn’t actually going out of my way, LOL). I laughed about it. I didn’t care. I was convinced I was right simply because I wanted it to be true. I did what I wanted … then I saw a plea from a good friend of mine with immunodeficiency. A plea to think of people like her—people who always have to live with such care, but who cannot even step foot outside her house now as long as other people are being careless. And I was struck.
My stance was all about me. My convenience, my inclinations, what I wanted. My stance had nothing at all to do with my friend or the millions of people in similar situations. Ouch. I wasn’t loving my neighbor. I was only loving myself. I was thinking about whether I got sick…not about whether I was responsible for getting someone else sick.
And that isn’t okay.
Then came the hard question: why? Why was I so determined that my want be right and their statistics be wrong? I had no good answer. So I just asked God to give me eyes to see them and a heart to love them above my own comfort. I tried to think about how I would feel if I was the one who passed Covid to someone who died from it, when I could have prevented it with a few simple steps. And I realized that this is a very simple way of loving my neighbor. Protecting them from me, even when they aren’t protecting themselves.
Then my son was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. This doesn’t put him at a higher risk to catch any illness, but what it does mean is that ANY illness—even the ones that healthy people just get over in 3 days—could land him in the hospital. That was when Mama Bear Mode really kicked in and I started noticing people’s actions. And what I noticed really saddened me. That the “world,” those with no faith to speak of, were doing all in their power to keep my child safe…but the Church, who should be thinking first and foremost of others, were the last to do so and only did it under duress. So many were where I’d been at the start but hadn’t yet had that moment of conscience. Not ALL, of course. But when I opened social media or listened to quite a lot of friends, that’s all I was hearing. What they wanted. What risks they deemed acceptable to themselves.
Why did my fellow Christians not love my son? Not love my friend? Not love the millions of people at higher risk than them? Why were my fellow Christians chanting “my rights” above “our love through Christ”? Why were we more concerned with our convenience than in how it destroyed Christ in the eyes of that scared and hurting world? Because it does, my friends. They are afraid. They see a monster wanting to devour them, and they don’t see us fighting it. When mask mandates changed to “don’t wear them if you’re vaccinated, keep wearing them if you aren’t,” I heard countless Christians say, “How will they know? It’s my risk, I’ll take it.”
The world saw that. The world was horrified. Because the world said, “It’s not about the risk to YOU. It’s about the risk you pose to everyone else.” And they’re not wrong. We are the ones supposed to be more concerned for them than ourselves. We’re supposed to be the ones taking risks to help—not to hurt.
The world should not look at us and see people willing to risk THEIR lives for OUR comfort. They should look at us and see people willing to risk OUR lives for THEIR souls.
This is not what I see when I look around at a lot of the church today. More importantly, it’s not what the world is seeing either. I was not showing them I was a risk-taker-for-Christ last year when I laughed and went looking for facts to back up what I wanted to be true; I was only showing them that I was selfish and didn’t care whether I got them sick. That’s something I regret. Something of which I’ve repented. Something I work hard to avoid now.
I am not a fan of “safetyism”—when we try so hard to protect people, especially our children, that we hinder their emotional and mental growth and make them risk-averse (this word is used in an amazing book I talked about in this post). But there is a line. There are risks to take and risks it’s better to avoid, and the real trick is figuring out where that line is. This is why we shouldn’t put our kids in a bubble, but we DO teach them to wash their hands. (Did you know that the first doctor to ask people to wash their hands when they came into his ward was FIRED for his audacity? The hospital board thought he was infringing on the rights of the employees. How dare he!) This is why we don’t say “never get in a car, people die in car accidents!” but we DO wear seat belts. Doing those small actions doesn’t mean we’re faithless—it means we’re smart and focused on true risk-taking. That’s just safety, not “safetyism.”
So where is the line in this situation? That’s what each of us have to decide, and certainly there are good, valid reasons to have avoided what’s a risk to you and yours. I’d never say there isn’t. The question I hope we all ask ourselves, though, is whether where we draw the line affects our ability to work for Christ.
We know that the world will always call us foolish, yes—foolish because our faith values eternal good above earthly good. But we do NOT want to be seen the kind of foolish that results in harm for ourselves or others. Let people call us fools for rushing to the rescue of dying souls even when it means risking our lives. Not for risking those souls for our own benefit. And here’s the tricky part—it isn’t just about our own opinion, not when it comes to serving others. How are THEY seeing your decisions? And how does that impact their view of Christianity?
I want to be able to serve others. Therefore I will do whatever I can to put THEM above ME. This is a lesson I learned from seeing my friend trapped at home and suffering for more than a year. This is a lesson I learned sitting in the PICU of a children’s hospital with my son and being told they would see us again, because he’d get sick, and that’s what happens. This is a lesson I learned when I looked out at the world and saw a Church ruled by fear—fear of government, fear of losing their rights, fear of losing power. And I saw a world ruled by bitterness toward us for putting them at risk. I am not afraid of sickness, I am not afraid of death—for me. But I should not be the cause of it in others just because I’m stubborn and focused on what I want instead of what they need.
This is the lesson I have learned through all of this. This is the journey I’ve taken from “what I want to be true” to “how my opinions on what’s true affect my ability to serve others for Christ.” Maybe your journey has been different, maybe you arrived at different conclusions, even. But in my house, our rule has become, “We will not take risks with this disease just for our own entertainment—shopping, visiting, birthday parties and so on. But we WILL take risks where necessary to serve God and do what he’s called us to do.” We take what safety measures we can, we do what is possible to protect not only our son but everyone else. And then we trust.
We don’t have to agree on our every stance on this stuff. But we DO all have to ask ourselves the same questions. Are we concerned with US…or with THEM? Because if the risks we take are only for our own convenience and comfort, then there is no glory in that in the eyes of God. Faith and risk are only aligned when they involve reaching others for Him.
Where do risk and faith meet? In service to Him. And ONLY in service to Him.
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, and allowing us to share ours. I agree that our rights as Americans are secondary to sharing the Gospel and doing the work of the Lord – all else is rightly secondary to those most important of all pursuits. However, I think one possibility is often overlooked: if we do not – lovingly, kindly, respectfully – stand up for our rights as Americans, we may soon find ourselves unable to share the Gospel without putting ourselves, our families, and those to whom we witness in danger. If this scenario occurs, will it still be our privilege and our duty to share Christ? Absolutely! Should danger stop us? We must pray that it will not. However, wouldn’t it be much better to retain our basic rights – they are God-given, after all – rather than surrendering them one at a time? At first glance, a mask or vaccine mandate may seem to have little to do with freedom, particularly religious freedom, but if we wait to stand up for freedom because an issue seems trivial, we may wait too long to stand.
Thank you again for letting me give my perspective!
Thank you for sharing your story with us and what you’ve learned through this troubling time. I agree with where you are now and have a hard time seeing those who supposedly share my faith seemingly not care about those around them. Some even questioned my faith because I chose to be safe, wear my mask, quarantine myself and get vaccinated. Saying that I didn’t have faith because I chose to trust in the science of vaccines. I believe God gave doctors and scientists their knowledge and gifts to make vaccines to help keep us safe from diseases we can now prevent. I don’t believe God would give us this knowledge & ability if He did not want us to use that knowledge to make the world a better place and a safer place for everyone in it. It makes me sad that people of faith have stooped to judge me for being safe and doing my best to protect those around me. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to transmit this sickness to someone who ends up dying or suffering because of me. Therefore I will continue to do my best to protect those around me, by being uncomfortable in a mask, and by keeping a safe distance. I hope more people of faith come to this realization too and stop judging those around them who disagree. I haven’t been back to church in quite some time because of the divide and judgement against me. I am sad about this and hope that someday I will feel welcome again, to worship my God with others of my faith.
I’m so sorry you’ve been judged, Anya! The division, especially in the church, is truly the most grievous thing about this whole situation. I’ve heard some of those same things being said and just cringe. Especially because I’ve heard the same people who say that about this vaccine tout any number of other medical advances and experimental treatments. The vaccine, however, has become so political. This baffles me. Regardless, I’m praying now that you find a place to worship God with other Christians who love first!
What I’m struggling with right now, is that I’m one of those people who legitimately feels awful when I wear a mask. Since they’re not being mandated right now, I’m not wearing one. When they were being mandated, I did wear one, but I did nothing for pleasure in indoor public spaces. Now, I am vaccinated, but people don’t know that, and of course there are breakthrough delta cases. I’m always feeling concerned that people will think I’m acting entitled and selfish because I’m not wearing a mask. It’s all very complicated, but I do absolutely agree with you!
Totally understand where you’re coming from, Dina! And honestly, I believe the vaccines are a way better answer than the masks–we can’t wear masks forever, but these new variants keep coming as long as so many people are unvaccinated and hence transmitting it so much. =/ It’s not a nice situation. We hadn’t been wearing masks since being fully vaccinated either, but we just bought some new ones with these new strains–and our county being higher in rates than anywhere else in the state of MD. =/
Roseanna, thank you so much for your article. I found it an excellent reminder to stop and examine my motives for why I do things. I really appreciate your honesty and forthrightness here, and I believe it is an excellent challenge to reach higher (iron sharpens iron). However, I do disagree with you on some points:
While choosing not to wear masks can be done out of a heart of selfishness and carelessness, this is not always the case. My personal belief is that I should not bow to government pressures to force me to wear masks, not just for my own freedom and welfare, but for the freedom and welfare of those around me. I believe that the masks and lockdowns are causing more harm than good to the people around me. Masks block the universal human communication of a smile. They block infants from the essential necessity of seeing their parents’ faces as they learn to interact, to talk with the people around them. Wearing masks all day prevents the brain from getting enough oxygen to function properly. So I believe that for the good of others, not just of myself, I should be a part of the movement that refuses to wear them, to keep others from being forced into something that is damaging them physically, emotionally, and mentally.
As for those people who are most vulnerable to this disease, I believe that measures such as masks and lockdowns are actually causing more harm than good for them. Traditionally, when diseases came, those who were most vulnerable were cared for and isolated in order to protect them. Then the rest of the population faced the disease and developed herd immunity, thus making them incapable of passing on the bug to those who were most vulnerable. Instead, we have prolonged this torture by engaging in partial measures that never protect anyone completely and cause the virus to spread more slowly, but do not actually prevent the spread from happening. Rather than going through it and getting it over with, we have forced an even longer isolation upon the most vulnerable, causing them (and everyone else in our society) intense emotional and relational damage.
Of course, neither method is perfect, and some of those most in danger always get sick. But in the end, I believe the masks/lockdown method will actually bring about more deaths than COVID itself through prolonged isolation and depression, reduced immune system strength due to endless bouts of fear, and starvation in poor countries around the world that are heavily dependent on the economies of nations such as the US which no longer have the financial health to trade enough with these countries to provide food for their people.
So I’m thinking about others in this. And yes, sometimes I forget to do that. I am very sorry. And I really appreciate your reminder to think of others first! If I’m wrong in where I stand on this, I pray that God would make it clear to me. Thank you again for your heart to pursue His truth in all you do, and I pray that He would bless you in all you do!
Thanks again,
Sarah
Thank you so much for taking the time to respond, Sarah! I know there are many people who think like you, so I’m glad you spoke up! I certainly agree that masks cannot be the answer forever, which is why my family got vaccinated at the first possible opportunity. But where I have to disagree is that I cannot in good conscience say “Let’s just get sick and develop an immunity.” That’s great for the chicken pox or the seasonal flu; but for a disease that has killed 4.5 MILLION people around the globe? That’s a different matter in my opinion.
I’ve written out and deleted a whole book here, LOL, but to me it comes down to this: my concern needs to be first and foremost to Christ and shining His light. My rights as an American are secondary. My personal desires are secondary. I need to do whatever I must to be able to proclaim Him to the world. If that means getting a vaccine, then I’ll get every booster they offer. If it means wearing a mask, I’ll keep one in my purse. I don’t need to debate what causes the most harm–I just need to work for Him however He’s called me to. That’s going to be different for all of us, and that’s fine. So long as we keep our eyes, as you said, on Him.
How graciously expressed, Sarah! I agree with you based on information from such places as LCaction.org and thetruthaboutvaccines.com as well as personal experience over the last 18 months. Thank you for having the courage to share a differing viewpoint and wording it so kindly.
Blessings!
Sharon
I appreciate the perspective you offer as a believer, Roseanna, and I endorse it. Beyond that, I wish that my eyes would remain fixed on the good of others, as Jesus calls me to do in the two most important commandments. Loving Him and loving others requires the right heart attitude; having that beats the odds of my self doing the reigning .
Amen to that, Mary! If we could master that commandment, we’d avoid so many other pitfalls!
Thank you, Roseanna, for a thoughtful post about what it means to serve Christ and to reach a hurting world. My husband and I have been frustrated by our church’s position on masks–letting people do what they like, even though there is a state mask mandate, and not even announcing the mandate or encouraging masks. We no longer attend in person due to that issue. And I see the world laughing at Christians as the vaccine-resistant chant “My body, my choice” without even realizing how much that hurts their pro-life witness. As Christians we need to serve others and love others, and the Christians screaming about “my rights” have lost sight of what Jesus’ sacrifice is supposed to mean.
I see the world laughing too, which is part of what inspired this post. It’s one thing to be mocked for Christ–quite another to be mocked for being selfish. And using abortion arguments for this??!! I honestly couldn’t believe it when I heard that one.
I’ve faced so many harsh judgements these past two years. Cruel words. Loss of life-long friendships. Loss of new friendships. Loss of relationships between Christian brethren. Heartbreak. So much heartbreak. All because of my stance to love one another and protect one another sacrificially as Jesus did.
I’ve come back to read this over and over. It’s a balm. It’s a reminder to keep speaking up even when I’ve lost the heart to do so because of being mocked and shunned and shut out.
This is easily the most lonely season of my life. The most disheartening. The most disturbing. The most spiritually painful. Because I feel this divide growing, this lack of caring growing. And it’s so so sad.
So thank you. The encouragement and empathy and honesty here is deep. And I will come back and read it again soon.
I am a Catholic from Québec, Canada and i thank you for your reflexion and I agree with it.. We have to take care of others as Jesus did and asked.
The Pope on August 18th, sait this : “Being vaccinated … is an act of love,” and “helping to make sure the majority of people get vaccinated is an act of love. Love for oneself, love for family and friends, love for everyone, ”continued the 84-year-old sovereign pontiff.”
Thanks a lot for your books. I read all. Its a good way to keep my English, here it is mostly French.
Hello, Andree! How lovely to hear from you! I visited Québec many years ago and loved it. And yes, we also view it as an act of love. Love for our son, but also love for our neighbors and every stranger we come in contact with. It was one of the things we chose to do so we could serve others in whatever way we were called without putting them at undue risk.
I’m so glad you enjoy reading my books to keep up with your English!
Roseanna, this is so good and timely. I am thankful that, in your own growth, you have shared this. May we as the church learn to be concerned and thoughtful of others and be willing to reach out and help.
Roseanna, thanks for the reminder of how our actions affect others around us and that we should not live in fear. In order to have a credible witness we need to reach out to others, not be angry with those who do not agree with us.
Always true, Pegg! We never achieve anything by arguing.
One of the harder posts I’ve written, Jan!