Belief

Usually I'm the most open person in any crowd of people, at least in the sort of questions that I ask, so the other evening, enjoying drinks on Francisco's roof, I was out-opened: our friend asked me if I believe in the resurrection and why.

I've thought about this myself. I know I believe in it; I'm not sure I know why. Partially, I'm sure, because I was raised to believe it. But certainly I don't currently believe in the resurrection because my parents want me to believe in it (I'm a little stubborn and don't do many things because other people want me to do them).

I think that belief in specifics of the supernatural (which is to say, Jesus, rather than just God) requires being taught them--by the Bible, by another person, by a church, by direct experience (especially if you're a disciple). And yet teaching itself does not ensure belief. Rather, belief responds to the thing that you're taught.

And, at least in my experience, you can't fully reason about your belief. It's just a different sort of thing. I certainly reason about it to some extent: I couldn't, for instance, hold a belief that I thought contradicted my reason. I could, however, hold a belief that was about something beyond my reason.

The moral of the story is--belief is a mystery to me.