Faith (yes again!)

A little while ago my wife and I were talking in the garden (after a barbecue lunch) with a neighbour. This neighbour, and I forget how the conversation turned this way, commented that he admired my faith. But the detail of his comment revealed that he saw faith as the ability to believe in something contrary to one's intellect. Faith, in his understanding of it, was the ability to suspend disbelief, to control the mind, to exercise a belief system contrary to all normal intellectual rules of evidence.

It made me realise how very difficult faith is to understand, for a typical unbeliever. Modern society has won all the intellectual battles, and children are taught as if it were fact that everything we see has evolved over billions of years, and that no one with any intellectual respectability actually believes in God any more. Religion is seen (and by many unbelievers even valued) as a preservation of traditional ceremonies, and acceptable, much as concert going is acceptable, as a way of bringing cultural stability into a person's life. It does not matter whether the building is a church, a synagogue, a mosque, or a temple. It is acceptable to modern society as being equivalent to, or simply an alternative of, a concert hall or theatre. The religious drama, performance, recital, of one's choice is just a matter of cultural taste, by which one defines oneself. A rock concert, or a classical symphony, are much the same, in principle.

So I am addressing what I see as a profound misunderstanding, and will try to explain what faith is like, when seen from the inside, looking out. 'Faith' happened to me. I was not seeking it. Just the reverse. It was in my second year at university, when as a convinced atheist I was introduced to a clergyman. He invited me to debate with him, and suggested I read St John's Gospel, so that we could focus on a particular text. I agreed to read that book. And with every expectation of finding much ammunition for my anti-Christian arguments, and every intention of using them in debate against this clergyman, I read the book.

Totally to my surprise, I found something quite different from what I was expecting. I remember distinctly (though it is now above 40 years ago) phrasing my conclusion: simply this, that Jesus was 'real'. I had no theology yet. That was all I could express. But the clergyman, seeing my change of heart, invited me to commit my life to this 'real' Jesus. I did so, audibly, in his room.

Then has followed a lifetime of learning, reading, teaching even, but mostly learning. My mind has embraced scientific books, about creation, about psychology and therapy. I have read many religious writers, of just about every century of human record, and many anti-religious writers. I have studied all the world's major religions, in sufficient depth to get beyond the merely superficial.

My mind, intellectually, supports my faith in a 'real' Jesus. So faith is not a substitute for anything, nor counter to the evidence. It is not blind. On the contrary, it is well informed, and grows stronger as more and more evidence of human history, and the human condition, is examined openly.

I cannot explain how 'faith' happened to me. But I am aware that what happened is typical. To give just one example, the young John Wesley found his heart 'strangely warmed' in a small chapel in East London, and that experience set him off on a lifetime of faith. Many, many, more examples could be quoted. The common factor is an unexpected response to a proclamation, whether heard or read, of words.

'Faith comes from hearing the message', as Paul said to his friends in Rome (Rom. 10:17). But the same message will be heard in different ways. No preacher will ever know what it is that may cause the same message to fall, week after week, on deaf ears, then suddenly a hearer will receive it. A seed will be sown. A life will be transformed.

Faith is still for me a great mystery. Certainly it was a gift, not even - in my case - a gift I was even seeking at the time it came. And how I have used that gift, whether well or badly, is another matter, a matter for eventual praise or blame (more of the latter I fear).

Confused?

I doubt if this explanation will help many. But it is good for it to be on record. Who knows who may read it, in this rather unfrequented place, deep inside cyberspace. And I promise you this. If it happens to you, as it happened to me, you will recognise it straight away. You will know something 'real' has happened to you.