Why do I believe in God

I spent a few days with a good friend who knew me before I became a Christian. He asked me why I believe in God. I replied, what is God?

The problem answering his question is that without common ground on the definition of what God is, how can I describe my belief? What I think God is may not be what he thinks God is, and if we’re all making it up as we go along then how can anyone claim to know anything? They can’t. This is the problem with being vaguely spiritual but not having a firm understanding about what this vague feeling relates to. This vagueness ends up with everyone sort of believing something, and being defensive about sharing it because they know deep down that their spirituality isn’t based on anything tangible. Faith becomes personal, not because it is personal, but because we can’t defend our faith and we don’t want to look gullible in front of friends and family.

Proverbs 3:7

I want to give an account of my faith, because my spirituality is not something I’m embarrassed about. I’m a scientist, a rational person, and I have the capacity to examine my thoughts. I can try to give an account and perhaps this will help someone else to examine their beliefs and assumptions. However, I am wise enough to know that I don’t have all the answers: I’m someone seeking the truth, asking questions, and trying to develop my understanding. I pray that anyone reading this might find something useful here.

Why do I believe in God?

As my friend asked this question, we were looking around a small church building. We talked about the idea that there is more in the world than we can sense. Scientists have recently discovered biological communication networks beneath the soil of woodlands, where plants communicate bio-chemically through intertwined roots and fungal threads. Some people think of our planet as a living organism upon which we have a fleeting existence. Words like Gaia get used to describe a planetary intelligence. I personally wouldn’t be surprised to discover that our planet thinks, and that we’re part of that process; but I still believe that our planet is part of the same creation that I’m part of. When I think of the Creator God, my mind is drawn to a concept that holds creation in metaphorical hands – not simply a super-being within creation. ‘Our Universe is big, mind-bogglingly big’ as one author puts it. I wouldn’t even be surprised to discover life elsewhere within it, after all:

Psalm 8:4

My friend is spiritual: he is open to the idea that there is more going on in the world than we can sense. He doesn’t need to tie it down further than that, as he feels there is nothing he can really do about it one way or another. If there is a God, his God isn’t someone he can interact with. His God doesn’t speak, or have agency in the world. His God – if there is a God at all – is impotent and far off: irrelevant to his decision making process. I’m a scientist, I don’t like basing my life on fuzzy unprovable assumptions. I don’t like his idea of God. There’s no evidence for his God. I actively don’t believe my friend, I think he is making it up.

As we walked around this little old church, I spotted a crucifix above the altar at the eastern end of the building. A crucifix differs to a cross in that it has a figure of a man being crucified on it. Crucifixion involves putting iron spikes through forearms and ankles to literally nail a human to a wooden support. I pointed to this figure of a man, nailed to a cross, and I said, “that’s who I believe in, when I say I believe in God”.

I have a problem with Jesus

My friend is a wonderful person. He is in tune with his feelings, and has an intuitive sense that there is more to life than birth, sex, death. I agree with him. I believe that we are more than just biodegradable carrier bags for our DNA. Neither of us believe that ‘society’ is God: so neither of us believe we should sacrifice our lives for a better society. Where my friend and I do differ, is that he can’t account for his spiritual feelings, and his spirituality is not sufficiently compelling to make him do anything about it. I can describe what I believe, more than that I can point to him: it is all about Jesus.

Jesus: a bloke who was born, did some stuff, upset some people and was executed for the greater good. There is non-Biblical evidence for his life, but it is the Biblical evidence which is the most problematic. The Bible lacks the obvious signs of a manifesto designed to persuade me to follow a Messiah – instead it is full of stuff which conflicts. I’m persuaded that the Biblical stories have credibility because if they were made up stories, you wouldn’t have made up the stories as they are. Jesus born of a virgin. Can we stop right there – seriously. If you want me to believe this, then why start with something so unbelievable. Okay Bible, you are off to a bad start… let’s see where you go next.

As I read the miracle stories I keep finding that they sound so real, not manufactured. When five thousand are fed on the hillside, their reaction is insurrection. A rag-tag group of five thousand people who didn’t have the wit to bring a picnic to an outside meeting, decide to overthrown the Roman empire and make Jesus king? Why? This story holds no water without the miracle: without the actual miracle this story makes no sense. With the miracle I’m caught up in the Messianic story of God made man. I find the irrational miracles become the rational answer.

Miracle after miracle, the case for Jesus’ claims about himself gain credibility. At one point he says something like, ‘if you don’t believe me, at least believe the things that I’m doing’. Writing off the things that Jesus does sometimes creates more problems than believing them. As another author wrote, ‘When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’

However, it is the stories of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus that transform this from a cult-religion to a life-changing belief. The death of Jesus, his followers hiding in a room together for fear of losing their own lives, and a lone woman meeting the resurrected Christ: this is a ridiculous way to build a religion – and yet the story is faithfully told, and the following grows. With the death and resurrection, everything that we think about time and space is changed. Causality, and the finality of death are no longer fixed.

Why do I believe in God? Jesus is why.

I don’t know what other people are talking about when they talk about God. Maybe we’re talking about the same idea, or maybe we’re not. However, when we talk about Jesus we’re talking about a man nailed to history, as he was nailed to a cross. We’re talking about someone who wasn’t a good teacher – because his teachings were not good. He taught against the religion of which he was part. Above all: he died… and then he wasn’t dead. Something happened which undermines my ability to write this story off as cultural manipulation: for the people who experienced Jesus’ story first hand faced death for their belief. If they were credulous dim-witted believers why didn’t they stick to their cultural faith? If they were manipulative and intellectual, why didn’t they make up something more believable? Why did they let themselves be tortured for a faith they had made up? If they knew it to be untrue, why would they die for an untruth? Their lives became opposed to their culture, and they risked everything for this message. They died for this message. They died so that the message could be passed on: God so loved the world that he sent his only son to be our salvation.

Isaiah 55:1-3

Scripture, reason, tradition: and the problem of Jesus

My faith is a result of the problem of Jesus, the teachings of those who have walked this path before me, the testimony of those who knew Jesus, and my own personal experience of a close spiritual relationship with something/someone. When these are combined, my faith becomes strong. I have someone to believe in, someone provably real. Someone I can point to and say, “there, that man, Jesus, that is why I believe in God. I believe in the God that Jesus leads me to”

So what?

Luke 6:20,24

This is where stated beliefs meet behaved beliefs. What does it matter if Jesus lives and God exists? So what?

My ‘so what’, is that I want to find out more: I want to know more about this person Jesus. What does he teach about God, what does he teach about life and death? He talked of salvation, but salvation from what and to what? These questions become urgent, because apparently my relationship with my Creator God is defined by my response. I have free will to do something, or to continue on my life without pause to think. Apparently there are consequences to my choices.

What do you believe?

I know that my life has meaning: there is a Creator God who knows who I am intimately, and personally, and loves me anyway. My existence is based on a relationship of love that began before I was born and extends beyond my mortal life. This knowledge liberates me today, my eternal life has already begun and I’m set free to be blessed and be a blessing as much as I’m able.

What about you? Do you believe those who preach that life has no meaning? Do you believe the new atheists who teach that you are nothing? You are born, have sex, and die – they tell you it is no more complicated than that. In which case, nothing you do matters.

Or do you believe your life has meaning, and if so why? What do you base your belief on? Is your belief something you say, and is it something that you believe enough to change your behaviour? In other words, do you really mean it?

I believe that your life has meaning. I believe that you are known and loved by the God who metaphorically knit you together in your mother’s womb. The God who created time and space and everything in between, is mindful of you – loves you – and wants you live, really live. If you’ve read this far, I hope that you will continue to seek trust-worthy answers to your spiritual questions – because you are worth honest believable answers.