How Can We Be Certain?
Bible Study
Questions Of Faith For Inquiring Believers
As people of faith, how can we be certain that what we believe is true? Given the diversity of human community, how can we be absolutely sure about the claims of Christianity? Given the competing claims of the sacred texts of other world religions, how do we know the Bible is a trustworthy revelation of God? Given the uncertainty of history, how do we know that Jesus really lived? Given the empirical claims of science, how can we be certain God even exists?
My introduction to this issue came in the first semester of my first year in college. John Christiano lived down the dormitory hallway. He and I were in the same section of a course introducing ancient history. As we walked back to the dormitory following a lecture on the religion of ancient Egypt, he was silent, caught up in his own thoughts. To no one in particular he blurted, "What if after death your knock on the pearly gate of heaven is answered, not by Saint Peter and the archangels, but by Amon Ra, the god of Egyptian mythology?" With that sense of bewildering amazement mustered by any eighteen-year-old stumbling on an important question for the first time, he continued, "What if the Apostles' Creed is wrong and the Egyptian Book of the Dead is right on target?"
Although I have long lost contact, I suspect John never lost much sleep worrying about the claims of Amon Ra. He seemed sufficiently levelheaded not to have spent his adult years building pyramids. On the other hand, I imagine he has continued to wrestle with that underlying issue of certainty. Most of us wonder from time to time, "How can I know for sure that what I believe as a Christian is right?"
The answer, of course, is that we cannot be absolutely certain. Christianity cannot be proven beyond every possibility of doubt. That holds true whether you are asking the question for your own benefit or looking for a way to convince a non-believer. As a Christian, I should not expect incontrovertible evidence supporting my faith. As theologian Hans Kung puts it, "There is no mystery of the faith that is beyond doubt ... Doubt is the shadow cast by faith."1 With that imagery, the greater the faith, the greater the probability of a longer, larger silhouette of doubt. We never extinguish every whisper of question. We never get to the point that what we believe is beyond the range of some cynic's critical remark.
On the other hand, let us say that I am trying to convince an unchurched neighbor or heathen sister-in-law on the veracity of Christianity. If a person is not open to the teaching of faith, I will not find evidence so compelling that she races down the aisle on Sunday morning and confesses faith in Christ Jesus. What I see as incontrovertible proof, the non-believer will likely hear as unconvincing, if not trivial or even irrational. There is no mountain of evidence or set of arguments guaranteed to move the most recalcitrant doubters into the column of believers. Faith does not work that way. If it did, we would not call it "faith." Although it may happen from time to time, people usually don't become believers because the overwhelming evidence first convinced them.
Instead, it happens just the other way around. We first believe and then we see the evidence that confirms what we believe. Consider the motto of the eleventh century monk, Saint Anselm: Credo ut intelligam. "I believe so that I might understand." Notice that Anselm argues that belief precedes understanding, not the other way around. We understand and are convinced after we have faith. That does not mean the principles of faith are unreasonable or irrational. Faith does not require swallowing whole the impossible or the ridiculous. Religious principles can be explained and understood by reason, but only after faith has been accepted.
Let me translate this line of thinking from the Middle Ages into the jargon of our time. We believe, not because we have seen the overwhelming evidence, but because we first decide to believe. After we choose to believe, then we begin to see the proof that convinces us of the rightness of what we believe. For this reason, we can feel certain about what we believe. The truth is self-authenticating. It feels right and true to us. We see plenty of supporting evidence for believing -- even though that evidence might not be particularly convincing to someone who does not believe.
Under ordinary circumstances, belief begins with a leap of faith. Seldom, if ever, does it begin with irrefutable evidence. That does not mean, however, that we begin without any evidence at all. Usually some convincing argument or bit of compelling evidence moves people to the point they are willing to take a leap of faith. In her spiritual autobiography, the popular writer Anne Lamott2 tells of her mostly self-induced problems and struggles in life. Because she was not raised as a religious person, she didn't consider a life of faith. Then at one particularly difficult moment, after an extended period of time considering the possibility, she took a leap of faith. "Expletive deleted," she said, "come on in, God." Once she made that commitment, the rightness of her decision began to be confirmed by mounting evidence. Her life was transformed after inviting God into her life. That's how we know when things are true. The truth will turn your life upside down. Indeed, truth is self-authenticating, but it begins with a leap of faith.
The width of that leap differs from person to person. Some of us are Olympians in our capacity to accept certain things as true. Those who hurdle the widest chasms even display a bumper sticker declaring, "The Bible said it. I believe it. That settles it."
Others of us are more cautious. We do not come to faith so easily. Our spiritual DNA mandates a much smaller leap of faith. In fact, some of us struggle to accept the most elementary propositions of faith. Whereas some have no difficulty accepting every word of the Bible as literal truth, others have to overcome a tidal wave of doubt just to say, "Well, perhaps, maybe, just possibly, there is enough evidence to claim that God might exist."
Believers all differ. To use a biblical image, some of us come easily to a "faith to move a mountain" while others of us struggle for a faith as "small as a mustard seed." All of us, however, begin the Christian journey with a leap of faith. As our lives are changed and empowered by faith, other evidence builds. What we might not have noticed before becomes convincing proof. Religious truth, after all, is self-authenticating. We usually can say, "I believe that because doing so changes me for the better."
I want to tell you a parable about how people become certain.3 Once upon a time there was a young prince who believed in all but three things. He did not believe in princesses. He did not believe in islands. He did not believe in God. He did not believe in these things because his father, the king, told him they did not exist. He had no reason to doubt his father's word as in his homeland there were no princesses or islands. And he saw nothing that would lead him to believe in the existence of God.
One day the prince ran away from his homeland and went to a neighboring country. There, to his utter amazement, he saw islands and on those islands he saw the most beautiful creatures.
While looking for a boat to paddle to those islands with the beautiful, yet unnamed, creatures, he came upon a man in full evening dress. The young prince asked the stranger, "Are those real islands and are those creatures actually princesses?"
"Of course," the man replied, "they are real islands and genuine princesses."
"Then God must also exist," the startled prince concluded.
"I am God," the man in the evening dress replied as he bowed low.
The young prince was now deeply troubled. He returned to his homeland to confront his father. He told him of his experience seeing islands and princesses. He even told his father that he had talked to God.
His father was unimpressed. "There are no islands or princesses and there is no God. That man you met was a magician and he cast a spell on you. Don't you remember that the man rolled back his sleeves before he spoke? That is what magicians do when they cast spells."
The prince returned to that distant shore and found the man in the evening dress. "My father told me who you are. You deceived me. There are no islands and no real princesses. And you are not God. You are a magician."
"It is you who are deceived," the man replied. "In your father's kingdom there are many islands and many princesses. But you cannot see them because your father is a magician and he has cast a spell on you."
The prince was now even more troubled. He returned to his father and looked him in the eye. "Is it true, Father, that you are a magician and not a king?"
His father smiled and, rolling back his sleeves, said, "Yes, my son. I am not a king. I am only a magician."
"Then that man on the other shore really was God?" his son asked.
"No, he lied to you about that. There are islands and princesses, but there is no God. That man was just another magician," his father said.
The young prince was beside himself with frustration. "Now I don't know what to believe. I must know the truth that is beyond magic," he shouted at his father. "If I cannot be absolutely certain of what is true, I prefer to die."
Rolling back his sleeves, the magician father summoned Death. But the prince did not go with Death. Instead, he began to remember how beautiful were those islands and how lovely were those princesses. He pondered how satisfying it was to talk with the one who claimed to be and, indeed, may have been God.
With thoughts of how wonderful it was to believe in islands, princesses, and God, he told his father that he could live without being absolutely certain about the truth that was beyond all magic.
His father smiled at him and said, "My son, now you have taken the first step toward being a magician yourself."
Personally, I happen to believe that the gospel is the truth that is beyond all magic. I believe the Bible is the trustworthy revelation of God. I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of the living God, accepted as Lord and Savior. I also believe there is incredible evidence to support those claims. When the Gospel writer Mark (1:16-22) says that the first apostles just dropped their nets and began to follow Jesus not only because his teaching was convincing, but because he had an authoritative presence about him, I believe it. That is the way I experience the teaching of the faith and the presence of the living Christ in my life.
I also know that doubt can be cast on any statement of faith I make. However, I know that my life is better because of what I believe. The Christian faith teaches me a way to live that brings peace and joy. That is the evidence that really matters to me. My belief in Christ empowers my life. When I strive to love rather than hate and forgive rather than seek revenge, I come to know the peace that passes all understanding. That is the evidence that compels me to believe. It is self-authenticating truth. It may not be convincing to others, but to me, it is the truth that is beyond magic. Therefore, I shall continue to believe that God is in Christ Jesus reconciling the world and calling me to reach out in love to others.
Others may not find the evidence incontrovertible. Science may raise questions about whether or not the claims of faith measure up to laboratory standards. Those things are not ultimately important. For even without absolute proof, I have experienced the Christian faith as a wondrous way to live. I commend it to all.
____________
1. As quoted by Martin Marty, in Context (Chicago: Claretian Publications, Volume 32, Number 10, May 15, 2000), p. 3.
2. Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Pantheon Books, 1999), p. 50.
3. This story is told originally by John Fowles, The Magus, and is retold in The Structure of Magic, by Bandler and Grinder. I have taken the liberty of reshaping the ending of the parable.
For Further Reflection And/Or Discussion
What first caused you to question your earliest faith beliefs?
How old were you?
How did you handle your earliest doubts?
Do you still have doubts? Do you handle them any differently?
Can you pinpoint a "leap of faith" in your spiritual development?
Do you think everyone takes a "leap of faith"?
How is your life better because of your faith?
How is your life more difficult because of your beliefs?
My introduction to this issue came in the first semester of my first year in college. John Christiano lived down the dormitory hallway. He and I were in the same section of a course introducing ancient history. As we walked back to the dormitory following a lecture on the religion of ancient Egypt, he was silent, caught up in his own thoughts. To no one in particular he blurted, "What if after death your knock on the pearly gate of heaven is answered, not by Saint Peter and the archangels, but by Amon Ra, the god of Egyptian mythology?" With that sense of bewildering amazement mustered by any eighteen-year-old stumbling on an important question for the first time, he continued, "What if the Apostles' Creed is wrong and the Egyptian Book of the Dead is right on target?"
Although I have long lost contact, I suspect John never lost much sleep worrying about the claims of Amon Ra. He seemed sufficiently levelheaded not to have spent his adult years building pyramids. On the other hand, I imagine he has continued to wrestle with that underlying issue of certainty. Most of us wonder from time to time, "How can I know for sure that what I believe as a Christian is right?"
The answer, of course, is that we cannot be absolutely certain. Christianity cannot be proven beyond every possibility of doubt. That holds true whether you are asking the question for your own benefit or looking for a way to convince a non-believer. As a Christian, I should not expect incontrovertible evidence supporting my faith. As theologian Hans Kung puts it, "There is no mystery of the faith that is beyond doubt ... Doubt is the shadow cast by faith."1 With that imagery, the greater the faith, the greater the probability of a longer, larger silhouette of doubt. We never extinguish every whisper of question. We never get to the point that what we believe is beyond the range of some cynic's critical remark.
On the other hand, let us say that I am trying to convince an unchurched neighbor or heathen sister-in-law on the veracity of Christianity. If a person is not open to the teaching of faith, I will not find evidence so compelling that she races down the aisle on Sunday morning and confesses faith in Christ Jesus. What I see as incontrovertible proof, the non-believer will likely hear as unconvincing, if not trivial or even irrational. There is no mountain of evidence or set of arguments guaranteed to move the most recalcitrant doubters into the column of believers. Faith does not work that way. If it did, we would not call it "faith." Although it may happen from time to time, people usually don't become believers because the overwhelming evidence first convinced them.
Instead, it happens just the other way around. We first believe and then we see the evidence that confirms what we believe. Consider the motto of the eleventh century monk, Saint Anselm: Credo ut intelligam. "I believe so that I might understand." Notice that Anselm argues that belief precedes understanding, not the other way around. We understand and are convinced after we have faith. That does not mean the principles of faith are unreasonable or irrational. Faith does not require swallowing whole the impossible or the ridiculous. Religious principles can be explained and understood by reason, but only after faith has been accepted.
Let me translate this line of thinking from the Middle Ages into the jargon of our time. We believe, not because we have seen the overwhelming evidence, but because we first decide to believe. After we choose to believe, then we begin to see the proof that convinces us of the rightness of what we believe. For this reason, we can feel certain about what we believe. The truth is self-authenticating. It feels right and true to us. We see plenty of supporting evidence for believing -- even though that evidence might not be particularly convincing to someone who does not believe.
Under ordinary circumstances, belief begins with a leap of faith. Seldom, if ever, does it begin with irrefutable evidence. That does not mean, however, that we begin without any evidence at all. Usually some convincing argument or bit of compelling evidence moves people to the point they are willing to take a leap of faith. In her spiritual autobiography, the popular writer Anne Lamott2 tells of her mostly self-induced problems and struggles in life. Because she was not raised as a religious person, she didn't consider a life of faith. Then at one particularly difficult moment, after an extended period of time considering the possibility, she took a leap of faith. "Expletive deleted," she said, "come on in, God." Once she made that commitment, the rightness of her decision began to be confirmed by mounting evidence. Her life was transformed after inviting God into her life. That's how we know when things are true. The truth will turn your life upside down. Indeed, truth is self-authenticating, but it begins with a leap of faith.
The width of that leap differs from person to person. Some of us are Olympians in our capacity to accept certain things as true. Those who hurdle the widest chasms even display a bumper sticker declaring, "The Bible said it. I believe it. That settles it."
Others of us are more cautious. We do not come to faith so easily. Our spiritual DNA mandates a much smaller leap of faith. In fact, some of us struggle to accept the most elementary propositions of faith. Whereas some have no difficulty accepting every word of the Bible as literal truth, others have to overcome a tidal wave of doubt just to say, "Well, perhaps, maybe, just possibly, there is enough evidence to claim that God might exist."
Believers all differ. To use a biblical image, some of us come easily to a "faith to move a mountain" while others of us struggle for a faith as "small as a mustard seed." All of us, however, begin the Christian journey with a leap of faith. As our lives are changed and empowered by faith, other evidence builds. What we might not have noticed before becomes convincing proof. Religious truth, after all, is self-authenticating. We usually can say, "I believe that because doing so changes me for the better."
I want to tell you a parable about how people become certain.3 Once upon a time there was a young prince who believed in all but three things. He did not believe in princesses. He did not believe in islands. He did not believe in God. He did not believe in these things because his father, the king, told him they did not exist. He had no reason to doubt his father's word as in his homeland there were no princesses or islands. And he saw nothing that would lead him to believe in the existence of God.
One day the prince ran away from his homeland and went to a neighboring country. There, to his utter amazement, he saw islands and on those islands he saw the most beautiful creatures.
While looking for a boat to paddle to those islands with the beautiful, yet unnamed, creatures, he came upon a man in full evening dress. The young prince asked the stranger, "Are those real islands and are those creatures actually princesses?"
"Of course," the man replied, "they are real islands and genuine princesses."
"Then God must also exist," the startled prince concluded.
"I am God," the man in the evening dress replied as he bowed low.
The young prince was now deeply troubled. He returned to his homeland to confront his father. He told him of his experience seeing islands and princesses. He even told his father that he had talked to God.
His father was unimpressed. "There are no islands or princesses and there is no God. That man you met was a magician and he cast a spell on you. Don't you remember that the man rolled back his sleeves before he spoke? That is what magicians do when they cast spells."
The prince returned to that distant shore and found the man in the evening dress. "My father told me who you are. You deceived me. There are no islands and no real princesses. And you are not God. You are a magician."
"It is you who are deceived," the man replied. "In your father's kingdom there are many islands and many princesses. But you cannot see them because your father is a magician and he has cast a spell on you."
The prince was now even more troubled. He returned to his father and looked him in the eye. "Is it true, Father, that you are a magician and not a king?"
His father smiled and, rolling back his sleeves, said, "Yes, my son. I am not a king. I am only a magician."
"Then that man on the other shore really was God?" his son asked.
"No, he lied to you about that. There are islands and princesses, but there is no God. That man was just another magician," his father said.
The young prince was beside himself with frustration. "Now I don't know what to believe. I must know the truth that is beyond magic," he shouted at his father. "If I cannot be absolutely certain of what is true, I prefer to die."
Rolling back his sleeves, the magician father summoned Death. But the prince did not go with Death. Instead, he began to remember how beautiful were those islands and how lovely were those princesses. He pondered how satisfying it was to talk with the one who claimed to be and, indeed, may have been God.
With thoughts of how wonderful it was to believe in islands, princesses, and God, he told his father that he could live without being absolutely certain about the truth that was beyond all magic.
His father smiled at him and said, "My son, now you have taken the first step toward being a magician yourself."
Personally, I happen to believe that the gospel is the truth that is beyond all magic. I believe the Bible is the trustworthy revelation of God. I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of the living God, accepted as Lord and Savior. I also believe there is incredible evidence to support those claims. When the Gospel writer Mark (1:16-22) says that the first apostles just dropped their nets and began to follow Jesus not only because his teaching was convincing, but because he had an authoritative presence about him, I believe it. That is the way I experience the teaching of the faith and the presence of the living Christ in my life.
I also know that doubt can be cast on any statement of faith I make. However, I know that my life is better because of what I believe. The Christian faith teaches me a way to live that brings peace and joy. That is the evidence that really matters to me. My belief in Christ empowers my life. When I strive to love rather than hate and forgive rather than seek revenge, I come to know the peace that passes all understanding. That is the evidence that compels me to believe. It is self-authenticating truth. It may not be convincing to others, but to me, it is the truth that is beyond magic. Therefore, I shall continue to believe that God is in Christ Jesus reconciling the world and calling me to reach out in love to others.
Others may not find the evidence incontrovertible. Science may raise questions about whether or not the claims of faith measure up to laboratory standards. Those things are not ultimately important. For even without absolute proof, I have experienced the Christian faith as a wondrous way to live. I commend it to all.
____________
1. As quoted by Martin Marty, in Context (Chicago: Claretian Publications, Volume 32, Number 10, May 15, 2000), p. 3.
2. Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Pantheon Books, 1999), p. 50.
3. This story is told originally by John Fowles, The Magus, and is retold in The Structure of Magic, by Bandler and Grinder. I have taken the liberty of reshaping the ending of the parable.
For Further Reflection And/Or Discussion
What first caused you to question your earliest faith beliefs?
How old were you?
How did you handle your earliest doubts?
Do you still have doubts? Do you handle them any differently?
Can you pinpoint a "leap of faith" in your spiritual development?
Do you think everyone takes a "leap of faith"?
How is your life better because of your faith?
How is your life more difficult because of your beliefs?
