Believe it or not, my greatest crisis of faith came thirty years ago while I was immersed in discussions and study related to God and the Bible at Southern Seminary in Louisville, KY.
One day, as I wandered the nearby campus of Westminster Presbyterian Seminary, a solitary PCUSA school with several attractive stone buildings, I even seriously questioned the existence of God. As I walked, I reasoned, “How can we—how could I—be sure of anything… really? Maybe I was just spending a lot of time and money deluding myself, and religion really was just some kind of “wish fulfillment,” or as Karl Marx said, “the opiate of the people.”
Besides being exhausted due to the pace I was keeping, working ninety hours most weeks, this “dark night of the soul” was triggered by the death of my grandmother, my dad’s mother, and being asked to do her memorial service.
The reason I was asked to do the service was first, because I had been close to her in her later years. As a teenager, I had spent many lazy, breezy, summer days just talking next to her as we enjoyed a glass of tea on her green porch swing. We had also spent hours, together with my grandfather, in that same space playing Pinochle or Scrabble.
The second reason I was asked to do the service was due to family politics. When my agnostic grandfather died on November 9th, 1988, the one who had taught me to think and play chess, a decision was made to have a pastor, who didn’t even know my grandfather, give a hellfire and brimstone sermon at his memorial service. This didn’t go over well, especially with the non-religious members of my family who saw it as a power play, as well as a slap in the face to a man who had spent most of his life contemptuous of religion. Moreover, contrary to what I can only assume the presiding pastor desired, the service didn’t draw anyone closer to God; rather, it created a rift in our family that lasted for several years. When my grandmother died on February 22nd, 1994, I was in seminary studying to be a pastor. Despite my religious views, thankfully, I had a reputation in my extended family for treating others with gentleness and respect. Again, because I had also been close to my grandmother, I was the logical choice. Not only would my leading the service mitigate any risk of the rift getting worse, but perhaps it could even bring healing.
Given this possibility, I was especially concerned that my demeanor and tone were loving, gracious, and empathetic, drawing my family to the message of Christ, not further away from it. And yet, as mentioned above, the request to do the service came at a time when I was exhausted and already wrestling with nagging questions about God’s silence related to suffering, and especially the Christian teachings related to the afterlife. It is one thing to be raised in, discuss, and study these things and quite another to stand up and preach about them with Billy Graham conviction. As I prepared, I brought my doubts and apprehensions to God in prayer. Seeking answers in his Word, I found in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthian church, the fifteenth chapter, a solid case for the reality of the resurrection.[1]
Although I’ve detailed some of Paul’s other arguments here, the one that strengthened my faith the most is the one in which he plays devil’s advocate. In 1 Corinthians 15, he says Christian belief in the afterlife is both truthful and credible because the alternative brings no hope and is illogical. Paul essentially says, “Try this on for size. See how it feels or rings true to you. Here are a few realities you need to face if there is no resurrection from the dead:”
- Christ never rose from the dead. (13)
- Christian preaching amounts to nothing. (14)
- If you’re a Christian, your belief system is devoid of truth. It is fruitless—without effect, empty, imaginary, and unfounded. (14,17)
- Paul and billions of others of like faith have misrepresented or are misrepresenting God. (15)
- Humanity is still under the control and penalty of sin. (17)
- Those who have died as Christians are lost. (18)
- All of us face the miserable and pitiful fact that we have no hope beyond this life. Eugene Peterson, in The Message, puts it this way: “If all we get out of Christ is a little inspiration for a few short years, we’re a pretty sorry lot.” (19)
- The idea of baptism for the dead (whatever this practice was) is meaningless. (19)
- We should all “eat, drink, and be merry” with no concern for eternity. (32) And finally, one of the greatest challenges…
- We must come up with a better explanation for why Paul continually risked his life. (32) In all, it’s not a pretty picture, again, both in how it feels and also in its logic.
Today, I’m still amazed at how powerful Paul’s defense of the resurrection is. Although many fine books have been written, I Corinthians 15 is still one of the strongest cases for why Christian belief in the afterlife is both truthful and credible. Paul shows how Christ’s resurrection, as well as the concept itself is historically, scripturally, logically, and naturally supported. More importantly, he shows what’s at stake if it never happened, and how the fact that it did infuses the world with hope!
[1] I’m defining resurrection here as the transformation of the body into an existence in which we have no experience.