Imagine that you just found out you have a rare and terminal illness. You sit down with your doctor.
"Is there no hope?" you ask.
"Well," he says, "there is one thing. Without this one thing, it's over. But with this one thing, you will be completely healed. But let me be utterly clear: It's impossible for you to live without this one thing."
What would you say?
"Listen, Doc, you're boring me. My favorite sitcom is starting in five minutes, and I wouldn't miss it for anything. I don't have time for these silly cat-and-mouse games. See ya."
Or, "Well , that's interesting. But, Doctor, that's your opinion. You are completely entitled to it, and I'm sure it makes you feel better for having expressed it. But I resent your attempt to impose it upon me. I really don't need this kind of psychological blackmail, this medical fascism. Good-bye and good riddance."
Or, "What? What is it? Tell me now! I have to know, and I won't leave until I do!"
Of course, the only sane response is the last one.
If we are saved by faith, and if we live by faith, and if it is impossible to please God without faith, the only sane response is: What is it? What is this faith? You have to tell me! I have to know, and I'm not leaving until I do!
