Sunrise at Daytona Beach, Florida. (Photo by Alan Cash) |
The adage tells us, “Seeing
is believing.” This particularly applies to our physical world, in which we
make observations and draw conclusions based on what we’ve seen. Prior to the initiative
and inventiveness of Orville and Wilbur Wright, mankind suspected it might be
possible to fly but as every effort failed, it seemed a hope beyond belief. After
the Wright brothers demonstrated human beings could in fact travel aloft,
albeit for only a short distance at first, others saw, believed and pressed
forward to discover what it would require to travel by air.
Of course, some still feel
a disconnect between sight and belief. They’ve seen planes in flight, perhaps
even close-up at an airport, but refuse to board a jet for fear it will crash. Even
though many more people die annually in car crashes, while plane accidents are
relatively rare, they’d sooner walk a tightrope than get on a plane. Seeing doesn’t always correlate to believing.
There are times when
the antithesis of the adage is also true. A child stands at poolside, looking simultaneously
at the water and open arms of a parent who urges, “Jump!” The little girl gazes
around, weighing her options, probably thinking, “Daddy, you’re not raising
some fool. That water’s deep, and I’m little…. I’m not going to jump.”
Yet after persistent
parental pleadings, the toddler casts childlike sense to the wind and,
believing in daddy – even though the water still seems threatening – leaps and
is captured by her parent’s waiting hands. Believing and trusting in the
parent, the girl finally “sees” her father protecting her from the watery
depths.
Decades ago C.S.
Lewis, one of my favorite writers, and a very astute thinker, made this
observation; “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen:
not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” Lewis – a
former atheist – found that believing is seeing.
From a spiritual
perspective, this is the conundrum. We’re asked to believe – and trust – in a
God we can’t see. From a scientific, empirical sense it’s true – we can’t prove
the existence of God. At the same time, neither can you prove scientifically or
empirically that God doesn’t exist. The spiritual is not confined or controlled
by physical laws. So you can either conclude, “I can’t see God, therefore He
(or she, or it) does not exist,” or you can decide even though you can’t see
God in physical, quantifiable form, you’ll believe in Him just the same.
Think about it this
way: Do you believe in love? Can you prove the existence of love in a
scientific way? No, you can’t. You can observe its effects, but you can’t
categorically “prove” love – after all, people do “fall out of love,” don’t
they? Maybe they weren’t “in love” to begin with; they just liked what they got
out of a relationship and when they tired of it or it stopped meeting their
needs, decided it wasn’t love after all so it was okay to bail out of it.
In the same way, while
God can’t be observed in a test tube, Petri dish, microscope or telescope, we
can observe His effects: Compassion shown to people victimized by disease,
disaster or tragedy. People who give generously to people, as well as causes,
that can offer them absolutely no personal benefit, other than the joy and
satisfaction of knowing people have been helped and causes advanced because of
their kindness. Individuals giving up lucrative, comfortable careers and
lifestyles to immerse themselves in alien cultures with strange languages and
unfamiliar customs to assist the less fortunate in the name of Christ.
We all have an inner
sense of right and wrong. We admire acts of selflessness and humility. We
applaud the “good Samaritans,” so-called because of a biblical parable, who go
to great lengths to come to the aid of those in distress. No, we don’t have to
believe in God to abide by some moral code, but where do those values come from
in the first place?
Years ago I took a
step of faith, committing my life to Jesus even though I had no clue what that
would mean. As it’s turned out, it has meant much, much more than I could ever
have imagined. As I’ve been hoping to share through this blog over the past six
years, similar to what Lewis wrote, I believe in Christ as I believe the sun
has risen – because by Him, and through Him, I see everything else.
Or as Jesus said even
more eloquently, “Then you will know the
truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). Free not to do
anything I want, but free to progressively become everything He wants me to be.
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