Faith is integral to Christianity.  It is, after all, often called the Christian faith.  And of course all that means is that Christians believe in certain things which they do not currently see.  The virgin conception of Jesus, His claims about His identity, His resurrection—these things (especially the last one) and many more are central to Christianity and yet they are not really open to observation in the same way that, say, the existence of the sun or the wetness of water are.  They are largely historical events, they are “in the past” and so we take them on faith. 

            Skeptics often object to this. How very irrational, they cry, to simply choose to believe something (and quite a “something” at that) merely because you wish it were so.  But this sort of objection misunderstands the nature of faith.  Faith is not blind and irrational belief but is (or at least ought to be) belief based on evidence.  In this sense almost all of history is taken on faith—even the seemingly absurd stuff—because the events can’t be observed in the here and now:  Why do we believe that Hannibal marched elephants over the Alps to attack the Romans?  Historical records.  Why do we believe that the fearsome warlord Attila the Hun ultimately died from a nosebleed?  Again, historical records. 

            In the case of Christianity such belief is based upon eyewitness accounts preserved in the gospels, 1 Corinthians 15, and elsewhere that a man who was really and truly dead was seen afterwards to be really and truly alive again; his tomb was found empty, his physical living presence was subsequently observed, and a number of initial skeptics and even adversaries eventually came to believe themselves after encountering the risen Jesus.  The evidence is quite solid and it leads many thoughtful men and women to embrace the gospel every year all over the globe.

            But even so our faith can waver.  The weather turns gloomy, we hear some particularly tragic bit of news, and suddenly, even though we know of the eyewitness testimony for Jesus’ resurrection, while we understand its place in God’s larger plan of salvation, while we see its effects in people’s lives, it just seems… well… incredible.  Doubt creeps in and we find ourselves shaken: what if it’s all just a huge mistake, what if I’m wasting my time, what if there’s nothing waiting for me on the other side of death besides naked oblivion?             

            Aha, says the skeptic, that’s your reason calling out to you, begging you to be sensible and to drop all this nonsense! 

            But is that really the case?

            Just as faith and hope can be rational, doubt and fear can sometimes be irrational.  Consider the last time you watched a horror movie at night: after it was over did you find yourself perhaps the least little bit hesitant to enter a dark room?  Or think about your last ride on a roller-coaster: was there ever a moment—even a split second—when it seemed like you were in actual danger, that you doubted your safety and were frightened?  Or how about your health; the last time the news reported that some new disease was sweeping across the globe (swine-flu, bird-flu, monkey-pox,  hantavirus, etc) did you briefly doubt your good health and wonder if maybe, just maybe, that slight scratchiness in the back of your throat was the beginning of a medical nightmare?

            The fact of the mater is that just as wishfulness and baseless optimism can creep into our thoughts, so can fearfulness and groundless pessimism.  And the only safe way to avoid either is to allows one’s beliefs (including one’s religious beliefs) to be dictated by the evidence—which, again, as regards Jesus’ resurrection is quite good.

            So the next time the weather turns gloomy and you find yourself doubting your faith, think of that last horror film, think of that last rollercoaster ride, remind yourself of the firm evidence for Christ’s resurrection and leave your spiritual hypochondria alone.