Is Christianity a blind
leap of faith?
I couldn’t wait to see them. Bill and Carolyn were the
parents of
my best friend in High School, and they had always acted like second
parents to me. Now, a college student, driving quickly to their home, I
was anxious to arrive. I wanted them to be among the first to hear the
exciting news: After years of living as a Jewish atheist, I, Bob
Siegel, that loud mouthed, self centered, anti-religious character, had
just met Jesus Christ through a dramatic and genuine mystical
experience. Since my biological parents wouldn’t be too
overwhelmed by the news, perhaps my second parents, a strong church
going family, would react more positively.
They reacted all right, but in a manner that surprised me. For one
thing they were concerned about my enthusiasm. I was so wound up and
excited, you’d think I was at, well, at a football game or
something. But it can be dangerous to be this excited about religion.
"Calm down Bob," they said in a gentle but firm manner, "Maybe
you’ll want to talk to our minister. He can help you to take
your
new faith in stride as we have learned to do."
Now, let us make a quick leap, forward through time. Ten years later,
one of my students at the University of California at Santa Barbara
came to me with some concern about our Christian club, Campus
Ambassadors. (Yes, that’s right. I never learned to calm
down.
Instead, I went into full time campus ministry.) Her concern had to do
with the emphasis that too many Christians placed upon evangelism.
"Why are we always talking about sharing our faith?" she asked with
sincere bewilderment. "It seems to be emphasized a lot at our meetings."
She, like my second parents from years ago, had been raised in the
church. Christianity, to this young co-ed was as American as apple pie,
Chevrolet, baseball and the Waltons. But why did we need to share
Christ with others, especially when they had religions of their own?
Since I came at this whole thing through the back door, rather than a
Christian upbringing, I found her question somewhat ironic. As
Christians, we supposedly believe that people are lost in their sins,
so why would we not want to share the Gospel of forgiveness and
deliverance? But I wasn’t really caught off guard. I had long
since learned that a lot people in our country call themselves
Christians simply because they were raised that way and not because
they had ever given it much analytical thought. Many relate to their
Christianity the way I once related to my Judaism. If you had met me in
my B.C. days and asked about my religion, I would have answered,
"Jewish." If you had asked me what Jews believe, I would have said, "We
believe in the Old Testament but not the New Testament." But if you
asked me a third question, "Do you personally believe in the Old
Testament," I would have said, "Me? Oh no. I’m not sure I
even
believe in any God at all." Yet I still considered myself to be of the
Jewish religion, and the obvious contradiction of my answers would not
have caused so much as a flinch. This paradoxical thinking, I
discovered, was also characteristic of the way certain Christians
interact with their faith.
Just as there are conservative and liberal synagogues (the latter
explaining my shallow view of Judaism), so there are liberal Christian
philosophies which "appreciate the traditions of Jesus but wisely learn
to dismiss such ‘backwoods’ ideas as miracles or
belief in
a sin nature." Is it any wonder that one can be in such a church and
not understand evangelism?
But what about conservative churches (sometimes called Evangelical or
Fundamentalist) that do believe in all of the Biblical accounts? Many
of them fall into a different trap. When asked by some skeptic how one
can know that Jesus is truly the Son of God, they reply, "We know by
faith." The answer is made to sound profound in its spiritual
simplicity. Those who ask questions in or out of the church are viewed
as being "too cerebral," "too much into the head." "After all," they
say smugly, " God works with the heart."
How surprised some of these Evangelicals would be to find out that
their world view is remarkably similar to the unbeliever and the
liberal Christian (both of whom they renounce).
Think about it. Why do most unbelievers take issue with Christianity?
Why does the idea of Jesus being the only way to God or of Christianity
being "the one correct religion" sound ludicrous and offensive? Because
the underlying assumption going into such dialogues, is that religion
doesn’t really have anything to do with the truth anyway.
It’s only a comfortable fantasy. Telling someone to choose
Christianity over Hinduism or Islam is like arguing over The Chronicles
of Narnia as opposed to Lord of the Rings.
"They’re both fantasies, so what difference does it make?
Just
pick the one you like."
Now, mind you, people generally aren’t offended at the idea
of a
God. It’s just the audacity of somebody explaining who this
God
is or claiming that God communicated which gets to them. Such
assertions take God out of the fantasy category and challenge the
notion that belief in God is a matter of faith alone. Question: If
there is a God, would He not be integrated with reality? Could He not
choose to make Himself known in as clear a manner as possible?
A problem with the word faith.
When they discuss other disciplines, (history, science, math,
politics), people are very interested in facts. But religion?
That’s a whole different story. This common approach may be
understandable. Many religions do not offer facts. Even when we read
the New Testament, (which does offer them), we tend to look at passages
about faith with a contemporary understanding. People mistakenly
conclude that the Bible is asking us to fry our brains. They define a
Christian as one who says, "I have no idea whether or not Jesus exists,
but, hey, I know, I’ll just live my life as if He does and
when I
die, if it turns out that by chance I was right, God will reward me for
having been so gullible and stupid." Faith is generally perceived as a
blind leap in the dark; the na•ve acceptance of an
unsubstantiated
teaching. Supposedly God is fond of those who worship Him apart from
any shred of data.
This popular description of faith is light years from the Biblical
definition. Actually, faith in Jesus’ day was not defined the
way
twentieth century Americans use the word. In a paraphrased nutshell,
the Bible says "Since you know that God is real, it would be foolish
not to place your faith in Him" (Romans 1:18-23, Acts 17:31).
New Testament writers verified the existence of God before even
mentioning faith. They were convinced that Jesus’
resurrection
from the dead was a fact (I Cor. 15). Most of them had witnessed it
themselves and they were confident that recent history would satisfy
anyone who had not been there. Even more significant, the Holy Spirit
continued to bear witness as He worked in the hearts of seeking people.
And this is how we know that He lives in us: We know it by the Spirit
He gave us ( I John 3:24).
In other words, a person could meet God! Faith, for the Biblical
generation, had to do with trusting this God Whom they’d just
met
to work in their lives.
Supposing I asked a friend to deposit a thousand dollar check for me.
It may take faith to believe that he will head for the bank instead of
heading for Las Vegas, but I will not doubt that my friend exists or
question whether or not we really had a conversation.
This is the same kind of faith children have in their parents. One may
count on a parent for food, shelter, love, attention, advice, etc., but
children will have such dependence because they already know their
parents. Likewise, since I am convinced of God’s reality, I
have
faith enough to count on Him and obey Him.
My Christian pilgrimage has forced me to accept two depressing
realities. 1) When it comes to religion, most people are not interested
in truth. 2) Many American churchgoers are also uninterested in truth.
But Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to
the Father but through me" (John 14:6). These words must mean something
and there is no law of literary criticism that can transpose them to
read, "I am what ever you want truth to be. I am that zone of comfort
which exists in your imagination to get you through your version of
life." Maybe, instead, the words mean exactly what they say. Maybe
it’s time to admit that if Christianity isn’t true,
it is
meaningless. We should stop evangelizing. We should stop going to
church. We should stop doing whatever we associate with Christianity.
And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is
your faith. More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses
about God, for we have testified about God that He raised Christ from
the dead (I Cor. 15:14-15).
More Questions |
Have your own question?
questions@bobsiegel.net
This is a brief
excerpt from a larger book.
For a fuller treatment of this subject as well as a better context, see:
I’d Like To
Believe In Jesus, But…
(The harder, less frequently discussed questions)
By Bob Siegel
Published by CSN Books
Copyright © 2007 by Bob Siegel
All Rights Reserved
Published by
Campus Ambassador Press
Copyright © 1999 by Bob Siegel
All Rights Reserved
This article is not to be reproduced without written permission from
the author. |
