It's a nice concept. Very Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Take that big ole scary step and suddenly the rock path appears where you couldn't see it.
I have read a number of authors who all seem to espouse the same Truth: the journey of faith is about letting go of control. Every step we take is intended to bring us closer to the goal where we take no control over the course of our lives and allow God to "take the wheel." I say this is Truth (capital T means this is "srs bzns, ya'll") because I look at every problem facing Christianity in the millennium and see it all coming down to that sticking point. The "church" (over generalization? probably, but not without some hefty evidence behind lumping Christendom into that category) wants to control any number of things.
Churches bring in marketing consultants. They adopt "models" to ensure they have more people and thus more money coming in every Sunday. My least favorite is the blatant attempts to control people. The "faith movement" and their ideology of "if I'm sick or poor then I don't believe enough or do enough of the right things" is not about faith. It's about magic. Pulling together formulae of these particular chants, and these actions, and this amount of "tithe/giving," add in eye of newt, and God will bless them with health, wealth and happiness.
This isn't faith.
It's control.
At this point in my life, I don't even go to church anymore. The geographical area where I live suffers from a plague of what I call "Millennial Legalism." That's probably hubris, because when you boil it down, its the same old legalism that forced Christ to turn over tables and shout at the good and devout church-goers of his day.
What I mean by the term is this: in virtually every church experience I have had in my life, these "houses of worship" sought to police the body of Christ. Do this. Don't do that. Wear this. Don't wear that. And it forces me to wonder where in scripture did God put out the "Help Wanted: Holy Ghost Junior Needed" sign? Is God so busy/weak/uninterested that He requires limited and blind humans to do the job of convicting His children? Isn't conviction of sin THE primary responsibility of the Holy Spirit? Does God really require a fleet of assistants to do this?
I have seen well intended Christians blunder on this in so many ways that I can't begin to count. Judging and criticizing other people, when I am pretty much dead certain that particular job was wrenched from the hands of humanity and put in the jurisdiction of the Divine.
So we find ourselves in the midst of a religion that bashes homosexuals, shuns AIDS victims, looks down upon unwed mothers, etc. etc. It is to the point I can't even really tolerate to be around it. I cannot stand to hear the self-righteous tell the poor "You have nothing because you sin." I hate watching "christians" marching around with signs proclaiming "God Hates Fags." It makes me physically ill.
This is, to my thinking, the cancer of the church. And it is about controlling people. What scares me deeply for the body of Christ is that in the ancient languages, this was the definition of witchcraft. Sin is largely about circumventing another persons free will. I know that this particular brand damns people. It drives in wedges and chases out love. It breaks the Father's heart.
I see Him as a passionate, desperate being. So driven by love and a frantic desire to draw us close to Him that He would risk all odds. He begs, cajoles, and pleads with us to trust Him. To let our illusions of power and control fall away, and let Him guide, direct, and care for us.
He isn't asking us to take the leap so we can see the hidden pathway. I cannot escape this haunting realization that He is asking us to jump, and there is no pathway. There isn't even a landing somewhere down there. He is asking us to jump, not in the belief that He will catch us, but in the belief that we will never hit bottom.
Free fall is the state of total and complete surrender. You have no power, no control. I think He wants us to live like this. In truth, it terrifies me, because I don't know that I will ever have the strength to do that.