Daily Worship

Leaping by faith!

James Cathcart April 30, 2026 3 0
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2 Corinthians 5: 1-10 (NIV-UK)

5 For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. 2 Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, 3 because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. 4 For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5 Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

6 Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. 7 For we live by faith, not by sight. 8 We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9 So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it. 10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due to us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.

Something that struck me, while writing about leaping this week is what an upbeat word it is. Making the leap, taking the leap, leaping into the unknown, or leaping at the challenge! A leap of faith implies risk but sounds quite heroic doesn’t it? Neil Armstrong spoke of a small step for man and a giant leap for mankind when he walked on the moon. In the cultural imagination a leap is a notable burst of speed, of progress, of achievement. A leap in the polls, a leap in share prices, a leap up the score table.

Sometimes leaps go too far, sometimes they hurtle in the wrong direction, or crash and burn, but there’s something still generally thought to be grand and headline-worthy in the attempt. A leap may be short-lived or unsustainable but it’s a big jump nonetheless and there’s bravado in the surge even if we leap into a nosedive. We are fascinated by people who leap from obscurity, from rags to riches, from a basement to silicon valley, from a kick about in the park to the Stade de France, a sticky pub to a sold out arena tour.

But as we look at the leap as a response to the cross — coming in our sequence this month of flinch-shrug-kneel-leap — I’m drawn to consider the smaller, quieter but no less heroic leaps we make day by day, after Jesus, after the cross. 

As Christians we don’t leap ‘to get ahead’, to ‘push the needle’, ‘to move the goalposts’, or ‘redefine the playing field.’ Competition, especially in the realms of sport, culture, technology and science can be a positive force to foster community, alleviate suffering, and advance knowledge. But leaping after Jesus, I believe, is a radically uncompetitive thing to do.

Because Jesus isn’t in the boardroom, or the greenroom, or the lecture circuit (these shiny but impermanent tents built by human hands) signing off on bonuses, finalising set lists, and handling the plenary session.

Jesus, through the Spirit, is crying and laughing and sitting quietly with those who are groaning, who are burdened, who are suffering, who are loving and longing and leaping and lurching and leaning and lunging and listing and leaping. Jesus knows that a leap of faith is sometimes more accurately ‘a bellyflop of faith’ as we half fall/half haul ourselves over to the other side — to the arms that wait for us.

God is not a manager, or a trainer, or a coach who is going to make me leap further and further to cross further and further distances. These can be popular Christian metaphors but they don’t sit well with me today. No, my God is a father, who has known me from my first steps and knows the incredible leap it can take to cross a small room, or to step into a gap, or to use my body to shelter another.

 

Prayer:

 

Dear God

You know the leaping off point

and you are there to catch me

even while I lurch and list and lean and lunge.

Amen.