I Choose To Believe

Look among the nations, and see;
wonder and be astounded.
For I am doing a work in your days
that you would not believe if told.

Habakkuk 1:5

How do we know God is “real”?

On what basis can we say “God exists”?

We know, as the Apostle Paul said so succinctly in Hebrews 11:1, that “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” but does that mean that there can be no evidence of God?

Does God leave evidence of His existence, even as He remains not seen? Can we be assured that our hope God is “real” is not in vain?

Perhaps the better foundational question would be “what would we accept as evidence of God?”

Certainly the Pharisees sought from Jesus some sign, some proof that He was the Messiah. They wanted proof before they were willing to even entertain the possibility of belief.

Just as certainly, Jesus reproached them for it, calling them—and ultimately most if not all of Israel—”an evil and adulterous generation.” Accordingly, Jesus granted them one sign only, that just as Jonah spent three days in the belly of the whale, Jesus would spend three days in the belly of the earth—be dead and then return from the dead.

Whether or not the Pharisees would accept that sign was for them to decide. That was the sign Jesus was willing to grant them.

Yet Jesus performed many other miraculous acts: He turned water into wine, He cast out demons, and He healed the sick. He even raised Lazarus from the dead. Each of these miracles was by itself a proof Jesus was the Messiah, proof Jesus was the Son of God, and ultimately proof that God Himself is quite real. Signs of Jesus’ divinity were in abundance, but the Pharisees discounted those, and asked for a sign they would not discount.

The Pharisees wanted not merely proof Jesus was the Son of God, but proof on their terms.

On what terms do any of us seek proof God is real? Are we looking for miraculous events which defy our understanding of science and the world around us? Are we looking for amazing acts of unparalleled goodness?

If we impose such terms, do we risk overlooking proofs already in front of us?

Certainly there is argument to be made that we do.

We know from the work of the great physicists such as Newton, Einstein, and Hawking that there are rules and principles which define how the universe behaves, rules which reduce the movements of stars and planets on the one hand, and the properties of the particles within an atom on the other, to discrete mathemetical equations. We know the universe is ordered, and not chaotic—we could not have our modern scientific disciplines were it otherwise.

Does not the presence of order to the universe imply there is One who ordains the universe be as it is?

We know further from science that order does not arise from chaos.

Does not the impossibility of order arising from chaos demand there be One who ordains the universe be as it is?

Does that not make the universe itself in which we exist a proof that God is “real”?

We know from the daily news of the world that people with some frequency perform acts of touching goodness—we know there are people who will feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and comfort the sick. We know from our histories there are those in every generation willing to sacrifice much, even their own lives, for the sake of family, of friends, and of country.

Given that we know from that same daily news of the world, and those same histories, that there are equally an abundance of people willing to do evils great and small, does not the reality of such kindness, and such heroism, imply a benevolent force working upon the hearts of men and moving them to goodness and greatness?

Does that not make every act of human kindness itself a proof that God indeed does exist?

We can say “No” to that proposition. We can deny the order of the universe and acts of human kindness are proofs that God is real.

Yet if we can say “No” to a proposition, we can also say “Yes” to that proposition. What we choose to deny we can also choose to accept.

Thus belief is, at its foundation, a choice we must make.

We can choose not to believe. We can choose to believe.

We can look at the world around us and despair that God is not real, or perhaps that God has abandoned humanity to our fate.

We can look at the world around us and marvel, as the prophecies of Habakkuk invite us to do, at the wonder of all God has done, and all that God continues to do.

We can choose to despair. We can choose to hope.

Which is preferable?

This much is certain: whichever we choose will define how we perceive the world, and how we perceive our place in the world.

It is our choice to make. It has always been our choice to make.

For myself, I choose to hope. I choose to believe not just that God is real, but that God is present—present in my life, and present in the world. I choose to believe that God moves us to do good things, and even great things. I choose to give thanks to God for all those good things, as well as the great things. By choosing to hope, I find my view of the world—and my place in the world—is much improved over when I have previously chosen to despair.

I pray that you also will choose to to hope. I pray you also will choose to believe not just that God is real, but that God is present—present in your life, and present in the world. I pray you also will hoose to believe that God moves us to do good things, and even great things. I pray you also will choose to give thanks to God for all those good things, as well as the great things. I pray you also will find your view of the world—and of your place in the world—will likewise be much improved over when choosing to despair.

We can choose to despair. We can choose to hope. Whichever we choose will be the path we will walk in this life.

I choose to hope. I choose to believe. I choose to walk the path of hope and belief.