Bungee jumping
Protestant reformers identified three parts of saving faith in Scripture.
- notitia: I know the claims of the Gospel.
- assensus: I believe the claims of the Gospel.
- fiducia: I trust in the claims of the Gospel.
The distinction messes with the way I think about assurance a little bit. I don’t hunger for much assurance of the first two because they don’t make me put much skin in the game. It’s not hard to stand back knowing how a bungee cord works (notitia) and believing it does what it says it does (assensus). But that changes when you ask me to strap into one and stand at the edge of a cliff (fiducia).
I want rock-solid, undeniable assurance of fiducia. The problem is that you only truly get it by proving you have it when you need it. I’m thinking of two ways.
- You die.
- You suffer.
Death: obvious, immediate. You’ll get maximum assurance of whether your trust was in Christ or if you were just posing on His promises.
Suffering: drawn out, bewildering. It batters the cliff you thought was sturdy and lasting, reminds you of how brittle & unbalanced you are as you scramble to hold onto what’s disintegrating, and then demands you make a choice: keep clinging to a crumbling ledge, or strap on that cord and jump yourself. (Presumably, that cord is attached to some other sturdy thing.)
The analogy falls apart eventually, but I like it because it also accounts for people who strapped on the cord long before the cliff began to crumble, but have been all worried about missing a buckle or failing to tighten something quite enough. Their lack of assurance ironically hints at how secure they are. They forget the harness is foolproof and strong. In fact, if you’re wearing it, He attached it to you himself, and it’ll hold no matter how stressed you are that it won’t.
That’s why suffering is bewildering. It can make uncertain chaos coexist with a tinge of relieving peace. It’s very good news that one of those things won’t last forever.