“Some put their trust in chariots and some in horses, but we will call upon the Name of the Lord our God.”

Trust seems to be out of fashion. Recent studies indicate that only 27% of Americans have a great deal of confidence in 14 major American institutions on average, a record low since 1979 and a 5% drop from 2021, according to a poll conducted by Gallup. Newflash: The poll found sharp declines in trust for the three branches of the federal government, the presidency, the Supreme Court and Congress. But it doesn’t end there.

Last year, Gallup indicated that only 32% of those who were polled had trust in religious institutions. That means that a lot of folks have given up on that trust, joining the growing ranks of “dones.” I wonder if you’ve had an experience where your trust in religious institutions, and especially religious leaders, was shaken. My experience in parish ministry is that many people come to the Episcopal Church with deep wounds from other religious traditions. Our denomination has a healing vocation.

At the same time, I know all too well that in the Episcopal Church, there are all kinds of ways that we wound each other. I know that I’ve participated in that, that I have hurt folks. It’s why I get stuck every time I read Psalm 69 which includes this prayer: Let not those who hope in you be put to shame through me. A mentor would commission Sunday School teachers with the Hippocratic Oath: Do no harm.

The depletion of trust happens in our relationships. A major theme throughout the psalms is the pain of betrayal. I read in those verses a foreshadowing of Holy Week, when those closest to Jesus betray, deny and desert. Those stories are included, I believe, to reflect that painful human experience of finding out that people who we trusted have disappointed us. I suspect each one of us have had the experience of being disappointed by someone close to us, an opportunity for forgiveness. I suspect each one of us have disappointed someone close to us, an opportunity for confession.

And can we trust ourselves? Do we rely too much on our own magnificence, on our talents, or our connections, or our resources? Are those things immutable? Will they last?

Trust is about where we give our heart. I’ve often quoted the desert father, Abba Poemem (He should get some kind of royalty.) He said: Do not give your heart to that which will not satisfy your heart. In other words, the expression of trust has a lot to do with an expression of love. We are called to trust in God, to trust that the final word is love, that the meaning in the universe is love, that even when it makes no sense, we were designed to show, share and receive love. When we hear the call to love God, it’s in many ways a call to trust God.

The psalmist often refers to God as a rock, a refuge, a stronghold. Jesus instructed his disciples to build on a strong foundation. It takes faith to practice that kind of trust. It’s the faith of Abraham, who left a comfortable life to go to a place God called him, not knowing where he was going. It’s the faith of Peter, who sees Jesus walking on the water in the stormy night watches and steps over the gunwale of his boat with trust that he can walk on water too. How are you being called to practice that kind of trust?

When our trust in institutions falters (the modern-day version of chariots and horses), when the church proves to be just a collection of faulty human beings, when those in closest circle hurt us, when our own resources fall short, the psalm calls us to trust the one who will not falter, to set our feet on a rock that is higher than we are (Psalm 61:2). Do you have occasion to practice that this week?