Why do I believe what I believe? Everyone capable of asking themselves this question must confront the unsettling reality that they already believe something. We hold hundreds, maybe even thousands, of basic beliefs that we’ve accepted without laboriously and consciously questioning their validity. Before we can ask ourselves what the proper foundation for belief is–whether it be political, practical, religious, or emotional–we find ourselves already standing on a foundation of unknown origin.
n. The branch of philosophy that studies the nature of knowledge, its presuppositions and foundations, and its extent and validity.”
“If nothing is assumed, nothing can be proven.” –CS Lewis. Abolition of Man
I remember the effect this quote had on me when I first read it. It was a clicking moment that turned the wheels of my head, emotion, and soul. A proposition jumped into my head: Truth is at least partially subjective. How could I hope to ever objectively decide which assumptions were stable and real and which ones not? Perhaps it was impossible. Before I had been caught up in a conflict. Something told me that if this God was real, then I should be able to set out to find Him…and then I would find Him. I wanted to start from the beginning, and think through everything, so that I could finally fully know that what I believed was completely true. On the other hand, I recognized that my faith as I knew it stood on pillars. These pillars seemed so solid, so immovable. No “real” Christians seemed to doubt them. The Bible is God’s Word, and when God speaks, that’s it. God is. God created everything. We can know God. How was I supposed to genuinely embrace these pillars of belief? It seemed equally unsatisfying to debunk the “Christian” assumptions by adopting “secular” assumptions. If you say that God is, and I say that He isn’t, how do we proceed?
“The supreme function of reason is to show man that some things are beyond reason.” –Blaise Pascal
I’ve become increasingly convinced that if there’s a way to disprove assumptions that basic, then I’m not smart enough to understand them. The quest for a proof of such a strong nature that I have no option but to deny reason or change my assumptions about God has eluded me. Similarly, the quest for a proof that will similarly prove the existence of God regardless of assumption simply doesn’t exist. Certainly cases can be made for or against the existence of God given certain assumptions, but after all the books on these cases and their critiques have been written, where does that leave us?
My assumptions then–the core of why I believe, seem to be tied to my experiences. Initially these experiences were easily recountable. My parents told me there was a God. So did the Sunday School teacher. All of the above were nice to me and gave me food. Therefore there was a God. Later, that experience was no longer adequate. And had that been all of my experience with God I would probably no longer believe in Him. But then…much later in my life, the theology started to seem disturbingly relevant to my life. And there was Jesus, calling me to “come and die, that I might truly live”.
“It is the heart which perceives God and not the reason. That is what faith is: God perceived by the heart, not by the reason.” –Blaise Pascal
Faith, I guess, was when I decided to trust this guy…who I read about in an ancient, disputed book, and who seemed to be strangely present when I prayed.
The foundation of my belief in God lies on my encounters with God. I believe in God because I’ve felt Him, talked to Him, and heard Him. As I’ve grown up, I’ve discovered the capacity to feel emotions, think thoughts, and ask questions. They’ve all led me to the basic conclusion that God is a pretty good assumption. Others have had similar, but no one the same experience. I was trying to find the logic and reasons for why I should believe in certain assumptions over others. The truth is that relationships are better pillars than propositions.
“If we die with him we shall also live with him”. – 2 Timothy 2:11
It’s all a bit more intense than I might have made it sound, though. There have been nights where I’ve been alone and cried out to God, and He answered me. There have been points where I’ve felt, and was, weak, lost, and confused, and God rescued me. In order to experience God, I had to discover my own weakness. It was then that I discovered God’s strength.
It was in the process of salvation that I found my assumptions. I was able to die and be born again–this time choosing my assumptions, choosing to start with the assumption that God is, that He is good, that He is Savior. This assumption is grounded in experience, in the spiritual, mental, physical, and emotional life I’ve lived.