The Faith That Is Not a Formula

There is a version of faith that is a formula. Do these things, in this order, and get that result. Pray this way, and God will answer. Give this much, and God will return it. Read this verse enough, and the anxiety will leave.

I have tried that version. It did not work. Not because the things were bad, but because they were being used as a formula, and faith is not a formula.

What a formula promises

A formula promises control. It says: if you do X, you can expect Y. The promise is comforting, because it makes the spiritual life predictable. You can plan it. You can measure it. You can be sure.

But the spiritual life is not predictable. God does not owe us the outcomes we have in mind. He is not a system to be optimized. He is a person to be trusted.

What the formula hides

The formula hides a question underneath: do I trust God, or do I trust the technique? If the technique works, I do not need to trust God. I need to trust the technique. The formula becomes a way of avoiding the relationship.

It also hides a second question: do I love God, or do I love the results? The formula gives me a way to measure how well I am doing. Without it, I have to face the harder question — do I still want God when the results are unclear?

How the formula enters the church

The formula does not always announce itself as a formula. In churches, it often arrives as a good practice that slowly becomes a requirement.

It shows up as the prayer that must be said in a certain way. The fast that must last a certain number of days. The verse that must be claimed every morning. The small group that must be attended every week. None of these things are wrong on their own. But when they become the thing that guarantees the result, they stop being practices and start being formulas.

I have seen people leave churches because the formula stopped working. They prayed the prayer, fasted the fast, claimed the verse — and the result did not come. They concluded either that God had failed them or that they had failed God. Neither conclusion was true. The formula had failed them.

What faith is not

Faith is not certainty. Certainty does not need faith. If you are certain, you already know. Faith is what you have when you do not know, and you choose to trust anyway.

Faith is not a guarantee either. It is not a contract. It does not promise that everything will go well. It promises a direction, not an outcome.

What faith is

Faith is a posture. It is the decision to keep facing God, even when the results are not what you hoped. It is the choice to stay in the relationship when the relationship is not giving you what you asked for.

Faith is also honest. It does not pretend to understand what it does not. It can say, I do not know why this is happening, and still say, I am still here.

What honest prayer looks like

Honest prayer is not the prayer that says the right things. It is the prayer that says the true things.

It can be short. It can be clumsy. It can be angry. It can be silent. The Psalms are full of honest prayers that would not pass a politeness test — complaints, questions, accusations, demands. They are in the Bible because they were true, not because they were polite.

I have learned to pray the true thing instead of the correct thing. The correct thing is I trust you completely. The true thing is I want to trust you, and I am not there yet. The second prayer is the one that has changed me.

What I am learning

I am learning to hold faith and disappointment at the same time. They are not opposites. Some of the most faithful people I know have also been some of the most disappointed. Their faith was not the absence of disappointment. It was the choice to stay anyway.

I am learning that God is not a technique. He cannot be optimized. He can be loved, but not controlled. The moment I treat him as a formula, I have stopped relating to him as a person.

I am learning that the honest prayer is better than the correct prayer. The honest prayer says, I do not understand, and I am still here. The correct prayer says, Everything is fine, and means none of it.

What I am still learning

I am still learning to pray without expecting a specific outcome. I am still learning to read the Bible without turning it into a checklist. I am still learning to trust when the results are not what I asked for.

I am still learning that faith is not a formula, and that this is not bad news. It is the difference between a transaction and a relationship. A transaction gives me what I paid for. A relationship gives me something I did not know I needed.

I am still learning to want the relationship more than the results. Some days I do. Some days I do not. But I am learning that the days I do are the days that last.