The life of those who dwell in the secret place of the Most High may be called a Hidden Life, because the animating principle, the vital or operative element, is not so much in itself as in another. It is a life grafted into another life. It is the life of the soul, incorporated into the life of Christ; and in such a way, that, while it has a distinct vitality, it has so very much in the sense, in which the branch of a tree may be said to have a distinct vitality from the root.

Thursday, March 5, 2026

A Faith That Takes Hold and Receives (Rewritten)

A person doesn’t really begin to experience the full effects of God’s work within them until they’ve taken the decisive step of consecration — described in our previous post. From that moment on, something changes. It becomes possible to see, in a new and deeper way, just how wide, high, deep, and far-reaching God’s inner work truly is. This is especially true when it comes to learning how to live by faith.

Most people who consider themselves Christians already have some experience with faith. They’ve exercised what’s often called justifying faith — trusting Christ as the source, and the only source, of forgiveness. But even so, many haven’t yet grasped what faith really is or how powerful it can be as an everyday, sustaining force in their lives. They may understand faith as something that brings pardon, but not as something that also makes us holy — and keeps us that way.At this point I cannot to explore faith exhaustively. That would take an entire book of its own. Still, it’s worth saying plainly that if there is one Christian principle that sits at the foundation of all the others — one that gives rise to and supports every other grace — it is faith. As we continue our discussion, we will look at faith mainly as it relates to sanctification and holy living, rather than justification alone.

Scripture repeatedly stresses the importance of faith. We’re told to “have faith in God.” We’re reminded that “the just shall live by faith.” And we’re warned that “without faith it is impossible to please God.” Given this, it’s essential that we understand faith clearly — not just in relation to forgiveness, but also in relation to a transformed and holy life.

Three Kinds of Faith


Broadly speaking, faith can be understood in three main forms (setting aside some minor variations): historical faith, general religious faith, and appropriating faith. Each deserves a brief explanation.

1. Historical Faith


Historical faith is simply believing that Jesus Christ existed — that he was a real person who lived in Palestine at the beginning of the Christian era, and that he possessed many admirable qualities attributed to him by history. Anyone who accepts historical accounts at all will likely accept this much.

But this kind of faith doesn’t require a genuine experience of God — or even good character. People with deeply flawed lives and openly hostile attitudes toward Christianity have held this belief. Voltaire and other critics of Christianity believed as much.

Jacob Behmen, reflecting on his own time in the 17th century, lamented that faith had rarely been weaker since Christ’s day. He described the faith of his age as merely historical — a simple agreement with the facts that Jesus lived, died, was killed by the authorities, and left the world. It was a faith that left people free to “do what they like,” entirely compatible with lives marked by sin and destructive desires.

2. General Religious Faith


A step beyond this is general religious faith. Here, a person not only believes that Jesus existed, but also that he died for the salvation of humanity as a whole. This kind of faith is important — but it still falls short of what Scripture describes as saving faith.

Even demons, Scripture tells us, believe that Jesus is who he is and that he died for sinners (James 2:19). But it makes no sense — either to reason or to the Bible — to say that someone has saving faith simply because they believe Christ is the Savior of the world in a general sense, while never receiving him as their Savior.

Faith that stops here is effectively dead. In fact, one of the great spiritual dangers of our time may not be that people settle for historical faith, but that they rest content with this abstract, impersonal belief. They accept the truth in theory, as something meant for humanity at large, without ever applying it to themselves. In doing so, they remain just as trapped, personally, as if they had never moved beyond historical belief at all.

3. Appropriating Faith


The third and most vital form is appropriating faith — and the need for it becomes obvious with even a little reflection.

Most Christians (with the exception of those who hold strictly to a limited atonement) believe that Christ has provided a salvation sufficient for everyone, though effective only for those who receive it by faith. How many will do so, or why some accept it while others don’t, is ultimately beyond our understanding — and not an issue we need to resolve.

What is clear is that no one benefits from this salvation without faith. But what kind of faith?

It’s the kind of faith that speaks in the first person. The kind that says, 'I have sinned.' 'I need salvation.' 'I accept it.' It’s not enough to believe that Christ died for others; I must believe that he died for me, and take hold of him as my Savior.

This doesn’t mean that I somehow have a special claim on Christ that others do not. Believing that would be dangerous. Rather, the point is this: the gospel offers a salvation wide enough for everyone, and faith is how each individual takes hold of what’s freely offered. There is no other way to make this common gift personally our own.

God deals with people primarily as individuals, not as indistinct groups. When he calls us to repent, to love, to give thanks, or to obey, those commands are addressed to each person separately. There’s no other way obedience could even work.

The same is true of salvation. If I have personally suffered the damage of sin, how could a remedy that never becomes personal actually heal me? Since humanity is made up of individuals — and I am one of them — Christ’s death for all necessarily includes his death for me, on the same terms.

Why Appropriating Faith Matters


All of this leads to a clear conclusion: the faith we most need is a personal, appropriating faith. We need a faith that separates us from the crowd and allows us to receive Christ fully into our own lives. We must be able to say — not vaguely, but sincerely — that God is my God and Christ is my Savior.

This is how the great figures of Scripture believed. The patriarchs, prophets, and apostles lived by this kind of faith. Hebrews 11 records people whose trust in God was deeply personal.

Listen to the Psalmist: “I will love you, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock, my fortress, my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I trust.” There’s nothing abstract or impersonal here.

Even the Lord’s Prayer begins this way: “Our Father.” From the very first word, a personal trust in God is expressed.

This kind of faith is the true engine of growth and victory in the spiritual life. When appropriating faith is strong and active, it enables us to overcome temptation and to enter into an ever-deepening relationship with God. In this life, such faith becomes the key that opens the mysteries of God’s nature and allows the soul to know, directly and intuitively, his purity and love.

Without this faith — or without it in a strong form — no one can truly be said to live in union with God. That’s why it must be said plainly: those who believe only in general terms, who believe for others but not for themselves, will never truly understand the realities of the inner life. Faith that never becomes personal never becomes transformative.

Martin Luther captured this perfectly when he said that the heart of the gospel is found in the pronouns "my" and "our.

Faith as the Foundation of Spiritual Life


Faith is more valuable than intellectual insight, more reliable than emotional highs, and more important than anything else — except love, which faith itself produces.

The fallen angels once had immense knowledge and overwhelming joy. But when their trust in God failed, they fell. The same happened to our first parents. Their previous experiences meant nothing once unbelief entered in. From that moment on, unbelief became the great destructive force in human history.

Faith, by contrast — complete trust in God and full self-surrender into God's care — has always been the source of spiritual life and goodness. And God, in his mercy, seems determined to strengthen this faith during our earthly lives. Scripture says we must walk by faith, and God’s providence continually pushes us in that direction.

Those who try to live any other way end up unstable — swinging between emotional highs and lows, inconsistent, and falling short of what a Christian life is meant to be.

Faith isn’t the only Christian virtue, but it is the foundation. It prepares the way for love — the love that purifies the heart and ultimately fulfills the law.













 


This is a revision of Part 1, Chapter 5 of Thomas C. Upham's book The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition 1844), written with the assistance of Microslop CoPilot. The original chapter can be found here: On Faith, especially appropriating Faith. 


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