Why I believe

(the real Christmas story)

Faith is outside the realm of science and physics. Indeed, faith is outside the realm of proof altogether. (Else why would we call it faith?)

A fifth grade boy I once taught put it so simply and wisely, “Mr. Talley, why are people all the time tryin’ to prove there is a God. If we could ever prove there is a God, then he wouldn’t be God.”

A beloved fellow teacher friend of mine once spoke of my personal faith in a profound way. I’d be honored if he spoke it again at my funeral. He said, “Some of you may think that Mr. Talley is not a Christian because he doesn’t believe exactly as you do. But he may have more faith than anyone I’ve ever known. And I’ll tell you why. He has studied advanced physics and science for years. He knows they both point to the conclusion that there is no need of a god to explain how everything came to be. The physical laws of the universe do that perfectly already, without invoking the supernatural powers of a god (or God). He knows that very well. Yet…here’s the thing…he still believes anyway.”

And. He was right. I do believe.

Something I cannot adequately put into words is going on deep within my being. Something I simply cannot describe.

Perhaps it is the “still, small voice” heard by the biblical prophet Elijah. Others may choose to call it the Holy Spirit. Perhaps it is actually the “collective subconscious” of the shared human condition going on inside my head. I don’t know what to call it. I don’t suppose it really matters. I just know it is there. If I could sum it up in one word, I would choose to call it neither hope nor faith. I would call it love.

Religions are manmade. All of them. Yes, Christianity too. The Apostle Paul, not Jesus, founded what we’ve come to know as Christianity. Jesus was a Jew, not a Christian.

The babe in the manger did not come to make us more religious. Being religious won’t help us find the real meaning for our existence. Only faith, hope, and love can do that. And of those miraculous three, love matters most. (There ain’t even a close second.)