Abandon All Faith Ye Who Enter Here
What are the differences between faith, hope, and trust? How can interrogating them help us understand what we ought to rely on?
From time to time, I hear people say things like, “I have faith they’ll do the right thing,” or, “I hope I get those killer socks,” or even, “I trust you’ll take the garbage out on Wednesday night.” They seem like little things. Maybe even interchangeable things: faith, hope, and trust. In fact, I’m certain we use them interchangeably in a colloquial sense. But these three little concept have tremendous weight in my journey through atheism.
I love deconstruction, so let’s examine what these words mean, and whether or not they ought to be used equivocally. First, English is a fickle language, and whether a word is a noun or a verb, it’s definition can change. In each of these instances, faith, hope, and trust are being used as verbs. Miriam-Webster puts forth these options for faith as a verb: belief in a god, belief in something for which there is no proof, and something believed especially with strong conviction. I often encounter,” belief in something for which there is no proof,” as the definition most frequently used when claiming to have faith, especially in someone’s actions. It’s as if we’re saying that we realize what we’re looking for is unlikely, or even non-existent, but we want to believe it could go the way we desire.
Let’s dig into hope. Hope is a wishier, washier creature. Its verb is defined as desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfillment. Put that way, it’s what you hear when a kid tells you what they want for Christmas, or what you might say when you’re wishing for a positive outcome on a test. That’s precisely it. To me hope is a wish, a longing.
Finally we have trust. Our friends at Miriam-Webster tell us that trust is relying on the truthfulness or accuracy of something, or placing confidence in something. It says nothing of how we build trust, but that trust is supported by our confidence. You might say that every time you drive to the store, it takes fifteen minutes, therefore you trust it will take fifteen minutes next time. Or, perhaps you need someone to rely on and you decide to choose someone who’s followed through for you in the past. They built trust.
When we step back and look at these words, I become less convinced they ought to be used interchangeably. Faith lacks foundation. In fact, it seems to me that faith is a confident form of hope, even further divorced from reality. Without evidence, there’s little reason I should believe someone is going to change there behavior, or that something is going to be done about an issue. It may seem nice, or even virtuous, to claim to blindly believe in something. But I fear that credulity will do little to defend us from conmen, or to inspire inquiry in each of us.
I’m less troubled by hope. Hope is a wish, a longing, an aspiration. Hoping for things can be great ways to start a project, or solve a problem. I think the most dangerous part of hope is when we forget that hoping is just the beginning, that somewhere a long the lines, action must be taken for hope to become reality. Until then, hope slouches uncomfortably close to faith.
Trust’s most challenging aspect is how we build it. What do we consider good evidence in order to strengthen the trust we place in things. Are several anecdotes more trustworthy than formally collected data or rigorous studies? Are claims made by someone popular more powerful than claims made by someone who can show you what they’re talking about? It’s up to us how we build our confidences in the things we bring into our lives.
I know from my own experience, it’s awfully painful and bitter to build trust from sources that are deceitful or entirely fabricated only to have it broken. When a source of trust lets us down, it often hurts more than lost hopes or unproven faiths. It’s easier to wave away the holes in faith and change the rules. They seem arbitrary anyway. And hope, well, it was just a wish after all, wasn’t it?
I do my best to consider these concepts when working as an artist. When I take on a client, I want them to trust that I’ll get the project done well, on time, and within budget. Even when they’re a new client, they should abandon all faith by reviewing my body of work. My clients should be left with only trust that I’m the right choice, and a dash of hope to keep them dreaming about the outcome of us working together.
When I’m being a friend or a partner, I strive for the same. I want the people in my life to abandon faith in me and replace it with well-founded trust they’ve accumulated over our experiences together. A cycle of disappointment perpetuated by faith and hope is not something I want to be a part of.
Am I perfect? Absolutely not. I do my best to let go of as many falsehoods as possible, while holding onto as many true things as I can. But, I’m still a person and I make mistakes. I’d rather admit it and keep striving for good evidences to strengthen my trusts, as opposed to feeling around the world blindly. Abandoning faith doesn’t just mean emptying churches. It can also mean becoming more skeptical and defensive when receiving suspicious messages online that wish to take advantage of us. Looking for trust built on evidence can help keep us free from conspiratorial thinking and help create pathways to lower our prejudices.
Abandon all faith, ye who enter here. Doubt willingly and interrogate your beliefs. Examine our evidences and be prepared to change them when better ones appear. Soon, you’ll find stronger foundations for trust that you can rely on.
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This print, drawn from model reference is aptly titled, “Faith.” Get your own on my INPRNT. Get 15% off all purchases in my shop with code: C6KQ26HH until January!