In my mind, this would be one of the worst questions that someone could ask especially if it was about something that I took very seriously in my life. The reason that this would upset me so much is that, if I took something seriously in my life, but it wasn't readily noticeable to others, then it means that I really should question whether or not I'm really taking it seriously.
I think this question is really pertinent when it comes to matters of our faith. In this regard, I don't think it really matters what sort of faith you have, or who you put your faith in. If you hold firmly to your faith, and yet it isn't being reflected in your life, how serious are you really being about it?
Now, I understand that there is a distinction that needs to be made in this. We can whole-heartedly agree with something from the standpoint that we think it is a good, relevant matter. For example, I can think that it's a good idea to exercise if I want to keep my blood pressure under control, or to reduce the likelihood of some major heart condition. It may make perfect sense in my mind, and I see the wisdom and logic of it. I take it seriously.
But this brings me to the second distinction that needs to be made. I can completely agree with it, and yet, do nothing about it. I may read the research about how exercise reduces the risk for major heart conditions, and completely agree with it. Yet, I may never get up off my couch and actually engage in the activity of exercise. That doesn't mean that I don't take the matter seriously. It may simply mean that I don't want to do anything about it.
The problem with taking this approach in the second distinction is that it seems to undermine my logical assent to the issue. I may have a discussion with someone who sees me sitting on my couch day after day, and we start to talk about the benefits of exercise, and I can say I agree completely that it helps reduce heart risks. And yet, to that person, the appearance is such that it doesn't seem that way. After all, I'm not doing anything to show that I agree with it.
Which brings me to this major point. People will take you most seriously when your thoughts and your actions are found in alignment. If you say that you believe in God, and that you take your faith in Jesus seriously, and yet, there is relatively scant evidence of this in your life, then it will inevitably cause people to wonder if they really should take you seriously. A failure to live out your faith makes it seem as though you don't take it seriously, even if you have a strong, firm faith.
That also brings me to another point. We don't engage in the practice of our faith for our own personal benefit. If, as a Christian, I believe that Jesus has fully forgiven me, and that I believe I should strive to live in such a way that reflects my faith and belief. If I don't, then it appears hypocritical to those who may see the disconnect between what I say I believe and what I actually do. So I don't do the things that are reflections of my faith for myself. Rather, I take my faith seriously in its practice as a demonstration to others of the importance it has in my life. And that's why it is so important that the two distinctions line up. In that way, we live lives, as St. Paul says, "worthy of the Gospel," with an eye toward doing it for the benefit and good of our neighbor.
I think this question is really pertinent when it comes to matters of our faith. In this regard, I don't think it really matters what sort of faith you have, or who you put your faith in. If you hold firmly to your faith, and yet it isn't being reflected in your life, how serious are you really being about it?
Now, I understand that there is a distinction that needs to be made in this. We can whole-heartedly agree with something from the standpoint that we think it is a good, relevant matter. For example, I can think that it's a good idea to exercise if I want to keep my blood pressure under control, or to reduce the likelihood of some major heart condition. It may make perfect sense in my mind, and I see the wisdom and logic of it. I take it seriously.
But this brings me to the second distinction that needs to be made. I can completely agree with it, and yet, do nothing about it. I may read the research about how exercise reduces the risk for major heart conditions, and completely agree with it. Yet, I may never get up off my couch and actually engage in the activity of exercise. That doesn't mean that I don't take the matter seriously. It may simply mean that I don't want to do anything about it.
The problem with taking this approach in the second distinction is that it seems to undermine my logical assent to the issue. I may have a discussion with someone who sees me sitting on my couch day after day, and we start to talk about the benefits of exercise, and I can say I agree completely that it helps reduce heart risks. And yet, to that person, the appearance is such that it doesn't seem that way. After all, I'm not doing anything to show that I agree with it.
Which brings me to this major point. People will take you most seriously when your thoughts and your actions are found in alignment. If you say that you believe in God, and that you take your faith in Jesus seriously, and yet, there is relatively scant evidence of this in your life, then it will inevitably cause people to wonder if they really should take you seriously. A failure to live out your faith makes it seem as though you don't take it seriously, even if you have a strong, firm faith.
That also brings me to another point. We don't engage in the practice of our faith for our own personal benefit. If, as a Christian, I believe that Jesus has fully forgiven me, and that I believe I should strive to live in such a way that reflects my faith and belief. If I don't, then it appears hypocritical to those who may see the disconnect between what I say I believe and what I actually do. So I don't do the things that are reflections of my faith for myself. Rather, I take my faith seriously in its practice as a demonstration to others of the importance it has in my life. And that's why it is so important that the two distinctions line up. In that way, we live lives, as St. Paul says, "worthy of the Gospel," with an eye toward doing it for the benefit and good of our neighbor.