A friend of mine recently gave me a book to read called A Geography of God: Exploring the Christian Journey, by Michael L. Lindvall. It is, at times, a difficult read (particularly on the train), but there are other times when it speaks so clearly to me. I wanted to share one particular passage in which the author makes a point on faith and belief more eloquent than any I may have ever heard:
It’s a subtle knowing, heartfelt, precisely heartfelt. It’s just out of reach of mere seeing with the eye or knowing by reason. It is a way of knowing that honors the mind; it is reasonable, yet deeper and higher than the five senses or reason alone…
You and I have seen no empty tombs, no angels in dazzling apparel. Yet, in another way, we have experiences that confirm the deep truth of scripture to us. We have such experiences along the road of life, hidden among the days, woven into words at table, incarnate in the routine of life. We see for ourselves every time courage unaccountable conquers fear, every time some mortal soul miraculously rises above self, every time life stares down death, when we see hope where there should be no hope, goodness where there should be none. We see it for ourselves in the inexplicable, gratuitous loveliness of creation.
And then, as you look at life through the lens of scripture, it all makes sense like nothing ever made sense before. Through our own experience, the Bible, this witness of the ages, this narrative of God, this story of death and life, comes to make sense like nothing else because it fills the God-shaped hole in the human heart as though it had been custom-created to fit that space.