How do we know God? Really know Him?
This, perhaps, is the most important question we will ever ask.
In her book,“Anything,” Jennie Allen shares a story of the time she posed this question of knowing God to her seminary class. The professor, who I imagine wore spectacles like C.S. Lewis, listed familiar ways we know God, such as studying Scripture, confession, experiences, worship, community, etc.
“But obviously each of these is unpredictable,” the professor admitted. “Many people who study the Bible never find God.” Similarly, many people who attend church never fully know God.
I imagine the professor leaning his forearms on the podium. Lowering his voice, as if preparing to impart a profound secret, he said, “The only exercise that works 100 percent of the time to draw one close to the real God is…” the class waited with bated breath, “Risk.”
Jennie didn’t expect this answer. I didn’t expect this answer. Maybe you didn’t either
“To risk,” the professor explained, “is to willingly place your life in the hand of an unseen God and an unknown future, then to watch him come through. He starts to get real when you live like that.”
Biblical women who risked it all
Dictionary.com paints a perilous picture of risk: “exposure to the chance of injury or loss; a hazard or dangerous chance.” Yet isn’t risk an apt descriptor of the Christian life? Or rather, what it should be?
By choosing to follow Jesus, a Saviour we cannot physically see, aren’t we, in fact, risking it all? Our reputations, relationships and ambitions; our comfort, safety, and in the most extreme circumstances, our very lives?
Several biblical women come to mind when I think about risk.
Shiphrah and Puah, Hebrew midwives, risked death by defying Pharaoh’s explicit orders to kill all the newborn Hebrew boys.
Rahab, a pagan prostitute living in Jericho, risked her life by choosing to shelter two Israelite spies.
Esther risked execution by approaching the King unannounced and advocating justice for her people.
Mary risked her reputation as a godly virgin, even her very life, by humbly accepting her role and responsibility as the mother of God’s son.
Another Mary risked misunderstanding and rejection by interrupting an invite-only meal and anointing Jesus’ feet with perfume, tears, and her hair.
Examples of risk in my life
The most significant example of risk in my faith walk occurred in my early twenties, when I felt led to enrol at the University of Alberta to pursue my after-degree in Elementary Education. “Led” is a mild way of putting it; strongly compelled is more accurate. Like an annoying commercial jingle, the Lord placed “U of A” in my mind on repeat, just to make sure there was no question of what University He wanted me to attend.
The only problem was I had one hundred dollars in my bank account. While my family had supported me through my first degree, they were unable to support me financially this time around. As if this wasn’t risky enough, I specifically heard the Lord say, “Don’t take out a student loan.”
How was I supposed to pay tuition, buy books, and afford gas to and from the city without a student loan or financial support?
Risking it all
The Lord’s directives were unmistakably clear. Honestly, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life. I knew He was calling me to go to this particular University, at this particular time, in this particular way.
Most people, including my soon-to-be-fiance, thought I was crazy. “Are you sure God said…?” They questioned. I worked as many hours as I could at the Boston Pizza I waitressed at, but it was barely enough to pay for the first semester. I knew I couldn’t sustain this kind of study/work/commute schedule for the long haul.
I risked it all, and for a time it appeared I would lose it all.
But God.
True to His word, He came through! Unbeknownst to us, my dad’s work had a scholarship program. (This would have been really nice to know beforehand.)
Days after I paid for the first semester’s tuition, I was given a scholarship for – get this – the exact amount I needed for two years of schooling and books. I’m talking down to the dollar. Only God could have orchestrated this kind of provision.
After the meeting where I was given the mind-boggling news that my two-year degree would be paid for in full, my mom and I drove home to our acreage. Green lights danced across the night sky: confirmation of God’s incredible love and generosity. As the northern lights rolled above us like waves, I imagined Him whispering, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Needless to say, I cried.
Correlation between risk and passion
As I sit at my writing desk pondering the vibrant faith of my twenties, I’m starting to piece it together. I used to risk it all… because I had to trust God. I had to surrender my needs and desires into His hands and trust that He would take care of me, because He was all I had.
I’m more independent, knowledgeable, and capable than I once was. While not affluent, my husband and I are financially secure. If I was ever in trouble (and I have been), I have resources at my fingertips, and people and places to turn to.
Yet I look back and see a correlation between how much I trusted Jesus (how much I risked), and the passion I felt for Jesus and His kingdom. Likewise, the less I risk for Jesus (or the less I need to trust him), the less passion and intimacy I experience with Him.
I’m starting to think that Jennie Allen’s professor is right. Perhaps the answer to knowing God, really knowing Him, is found in four simple (but terribly frightening) letters: R – I – S – K.
Your turn
In each story of risk that I shared – the accounts of Biblical women and my own testimony – God always came through. He rewarded each person, myself included, for their faithfulness and trust, although not, perhaps, how we imagined.
Have you ever risked something for God and seen Him come through in miraculous ways?
As you read my story, what risks do you sense the Lord inviting you to take?
