Why do I believe that Jesus was physically Resurrected? Well, I’m not completely sure that he was; or that Christianity is literally true at all. But if anyone cares to read the following personal account, I’ll try to explain just what I do believe and how I came to where I am:[witnessing]
I was raised generically Protestant (mostly Presbyterian but no particular adherence to exact doctrine). By the time I was twelve I realized something relatively obvious: merely believing something is true doesn’t mean it is. The ancient Greeks, Romans and Norse had “faith” in their gods, and they couldn’t be right if Christianity was true, so belief alone doesn’t mean anything. Given that and a fascination with science and I could never afterwards accept Christianity (in the church-going, Gospel- preaching, “Praise the Lord” sense) uncritically. By my teens I was effectively an atheist. At the same time however, I guess I sort of regretted that Christianiy didn’t seem to be true, and I had no patience whatsoever with the crowd that said you could accept Christianity as symbolically or metaphorically “true”. If it wasn’t literally true, than what was the point?
By early adulthood the depression and dysfunctionalism that I’ve pretty much spent my entire life battling had reached a crisis point. It was at this stage that I discovered the writings of C.S. Lewis. Now I’m aware that plenty of people think that Lewis’s arguements aren’t as convincing as some believe, and I admit freely that my own life would seem to be an example of religion being a “crutch” for people who can’t cope with life. But I was strongly impressed simply because here seemed evidence that a person could be intelligent, rational and educated, and yet still accept Christianiy as literally true. You could be a Christian without being a fundy yahoo or unreservedly swallowing a bunch of fables.
Which is not to say that my life radically altered at that point. I was still pretty much the screwed up person I was before. And after that first “rush” that people get when they first discover religion, things pretty much went back to the way they had been. But now I was willing to accept Christianity at least provisionally, as a starting point for figuring out my life. And based on personal experiences and reflections, I would have to say that I began to believe in something, exactly what I’m not even sure of myself. Something outside myself, something bigger than I am. You could maybe call it Truth, or Reality, or Tao, or even that generic “Higher Power” that AA goes on about.
And the thing is, far from “proving” anything to me, my experience has been that I myself am the subject of judgement, rather than the one fit to do the judging. It wasn’t a question of logically assessing evidence; it was a matter of reexaming the fundamental axioms I had always assumed were true. It’s been a decades-long, slow and painful process, but I have (often rather bitterly) had to accept that I have been fundamentally wrong about myself and my outlook.
So at this point it’s hard for me to confidently state that I know anything for certain about what’s true and what isn’t, when I have had to accept just how wrong I can be. If the truth is something that I have previously been unable or unwilling to accept, then it is something that I’m still working on being able to fully comprehend. I still don’t know if Christianity is literally true, but that could well be a fault of mine. Or it could be that the whole thing is a psychological, spiritual inner journey that we use Christianity as our symbols for. The jury’s still out. [/witnessing]