Why Do I Believe?

Earlier today, I was watching a debate between Christian and atheist scientists. As the debate drew to a close, I was taken aback when the atheistic scientist informed his opponent – an Oxford professor who has written extensively this topic, and whose arguments he had not bothered to refute – that he was a Christian solely because he’d been born in Ireland.

This argument struck me because I’ve heard it myself more than once. Despite having a BA from Harvard in moral philosophy and a Master’s degree in Theological Studies, I have been told multiple times that I am only a Christian because my parents were. They told me to believe it, and so I did.

Now, of course, when I was little, my parents told me a lot of things, and I believed them. They told me that Kenya was in Africa, that World War II ended in 1945, that two and two make four, that I shouldn’t touch a hot stove – they told me all sorts of things. And I believed them. In fact, I still believe all these things that I first learned from my parents. But for the life of me, I cannot see how that makes me irrational or my beliefs wrong.

Now, if I continued to believe what my parents told me in spite of the evidence, that might make me irrational. If I refused to consider the evidence of those who disagreed with me on those facts, that might make me willfully ignorant. But if I look at the evidence and find it supports my original position, that in no way makes me irrational.* And that is what I have done.

I have talked to hundreds of people who disagree with me on these things. I have a degree from an institution filled with very intelligent, educated people holding a variety of views different from my own. I have read extensively; I have watched debate af

ter debate. And I have found the evidence – philosophical, scientific, historical, and experiential – to be all on one side.

There are two senses in which everything I’ve just said is beside the point.

First off, the argument “well, you only believe that because you’re Irish,” is an example of genetic fallacy – that is, trying to prove that a belief is false by explaining its origin. In point of fact, how I come to believe something has absolutely nothing to do with whether that thing is true or not. I learned the purpose of a garbage disposal, the meaning of the word hibiscus, and the opening to the Gettysburg Address by watching The Beverly Hillbillies. Now, generally speaking, I wouldn’t recommend comedy shows as sources of information about the world. But that doesn’t mean they’re always wrong. As the saying goes, just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean you don’t have enemies.

Second, this is beside the point because in Christianity, belief is more than a rational assent to the facts. It requires acting on those facts. There is a difference between believing that God exists and believing in God, just as there is a difference between knowing one’s fiancé exists and marrying him. You can follow the evidence up to God’s doorstep, but what you do beyond that is a choice.

In my experience, by the time we get to this point in the discussion, it’s already pretty clear what choice any given person has made. Because so much of our evidence is shaped by our interpretations, where you end up depends very much on where you start. If you start by assuming there is no supernatural, there is no evidence that can change your mind (C.S. Lewis illustrates this strikingly in The Chronicles of Narnia). If you start with an open mind and heart, you might be surprised what you find.

There are a dozen side-discussions to go in here, but I’m out of space. In the end, then, the question of why I believe doesn’t matter very much at all. What matters is, 1) Is what I believe true?, and 2) What am I (and what are you) going to do about it?

*In fact, I don’t even have to know all the evidence in order to be rational in maintaining my position. As long as no one has provided me with strong evidence against my position, I am rational to keep it. I’ll be honest; I haven’t flown over to Africa to make absolutely sure that Kenya is there. I have not “reasoned from first principles” to assure myself of its existence. But I have also found no good reason to think that my parents were lying and Kenya isn’t there, and in light of that, I am perfectly justified in continuing to believe it is part of the continent of Africa.

Of course, it’s possible that I’ve just been going off what my parents said because of arrogance, indifference, or obstinacy. Maybe it’s just confirmation bias that I think the documentaries and maps I’ve seen support my position. You could go on indefinitely casting doubt on my belief and telling me all the irrational motivations I have for believing it. But at the end of the day, it all comes down to the truth and the evidence.