I
All dreams led back into the nightmare garden
Where the great families who should have loved him slept
Loving each other, not a single rose
Dared leave its self-regard, and he alone was kneeling,
Submitting to a night that promised nothing,
Not even punishment, but let him pray;
Prayer bled to death in its abyssal spaces,
Mocked by the silence of their unbelief.
From Pascal, by W. H. Auden
It is a warm Parisian night, and a boy kneels in his father’s garden. Around the edge of the garden, in arbours and summerhouses, adults talk to themselves. They began by talking to each other, but found their own stories more interesting. The second person is in their speech but scarcely in their thoughts.
The boy is alone but he is also talking; the adults regard him strangely. It is the time for inanity but the boy declares propositions and seeks knowledge. They joke that they cannot tell whether he is solving equations or praying to his God. If they cared they would know that he is praying, for when he speaks mathematics he walks around the garden.
Young Blaise Pascal is not disconcerted by the silence which separates him from his father’s guests. He likes the way his words can carry on the still air. And well might they carry, as they are borne by the Holy Ghost towards eternal purposes.
Blaise Pascal does not raise his head again this night, and it soon drops unsuccoured. He expects nothing from the darkness or its inhabitants, but he is not ashamed of his prayers for this. Like the mathematics he conjures up while walking, he knows that once uttered his words will never fade in the ear of his God. After floating on the summer air for the note of a song, they fall and soak into the ground, dew awaiting the fire of dawn.
The night is sad and lonely, but Blaise Pascal is thankful, for it lets him pray. As he falls into the abyss of sleep, angels who have been listening gather him to his bed.
II
What if none of it is true? It is a question that I rarely hear discussed in evangelical Christianity. We broach it in order to win unbelievers, but not as a pastoral issue for those who already believe. Perhaps I am alone in asking it – I suspect not. What if there is no God? What if Christ is not resurrected? What if there is nothing after death?
We talk about doubting, but almost always in terms of assurance of forgiveness. I wonder if, much of the time, people’s doubts are more fundamental; yet they remain unspoken. It is an interesting problem (if I am right in seeing it) and I do not yet have answers except to write about my own experience.
Part of my reticence in mentioning such doubts is that they strike precisely at the foundations. If I question the truth of Christianity, then – at first glance – those questions cannot be answered from Christianity itself. That is the very thing which is doubted! I must turn to philosophy or science, but my faith tells me that they are not foundational, and are not equipped to deal with foundational matters. The very asking of the question opens a terrifying abyss. I neither want to look into that abyss, nor invite others to peer into it with me.
I will not write fully here about how I am brought through such doubts. But there is one verse which has been of great help when I am near this abyss. In chapter 6 of John’s gospel, Jesus asks his disciples if they are going to leave him. Simon Peter answers, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.” The Christian life is hard, and there are occasions when I ask whether I can continue. If it is true, then very well – I can be persuaded to persevere. But what if it isn’t? The abyss yawns and I look into it. But then I raise my eyes and say, “Lord, to whom shall I go?”
I have heard tell of a holy God, and a perfect King who loved me and gave himself for me. I have heard his forgiveness proclaimed to me, and felt a weight lifted. I have read of his Spirit of power, who abides in me to fit me for a heavenly banquet. I have tasted of this banquet in bread and wine among those I love. And I look into the abyss, away from Christ, and I see nothing. The world can only distract; it cannot compete with that which it does not know.
Note that these experiences are real, independent of whether or not the message they carry is real. I have heard the gospel, I have tasted the bread and wine, I have lived among and loved fellow believers, and I have felt the accompanying peace and joy, whether or not they are true peace and joy. And I am certain that nothing can compare. Either the gospel is true, and it is good high over all; or it is not true, and there is no overarching good in this world.
There is something of Blaise Pascal’s wager here. Either Christianity is true, in which case you win big, or it is false, in which case you lose small. There is no wonderful alternative which you miss out on by following Christ. Pascal’s argument is criticised for various reasons, and it is uncertain how much store he himself placed by it. But in this framing of it there is at least a seed of genuine and robust faith, even if it is only a mustard seed.
It is faith which says, I have tasted and have seen that the Lord is good. I have believed that Jesus Christ is the Holy One of God. All his unspeakable glory which shines through to me in Word and sacrament is such that I could not tear myself away from it, even if all the philosophers and scientists of the world told me it was an illusion. It is faith which says that the light is just too beautiful, so that if it is not real, then there is only darkness.
Pascal knew this faith. One night he wrote the following, which he carried sewn into the hem of his coat for the rest of his life:
The year of grace, 1654
Monday, 23rd November, Feast of St Clement, Pope and Martyr, and of others in the Martyrology
Vigil of St Chrysogonus, Martyr, and others,
From about half past ten in the evening until half past twelve
FIRE
God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob, not of the philosophers and savants
Certitude. Certitude. Feeling. Joy. Peace.
God of Jesus Christ.
My God and Thy God
‘Thy God shall be my God’
Forgetfulness of the world and of everything except God
He is to be found only in the ways taught in the Gospel
Grandeur of the human soul
Righteous Father, the world hath not know Thee, but I have known Thee
Joy, joy, joy, tears of joy
I have fallen from Him
‘They have forsaken Me, the fountain of living waters’
‘My God, wilt Thou forsake me?’
May I not fall from Him for ever
This is life eternal, that they might know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent
Jesus Christ
Jesus Christ
I have fallen away: I have fled from Him, denied Him, crucified Him
May I not fall from Him for ever
We hold Him only by the ways taught in the Gospel
Renunciation total and sweet
Total submission to Jesus Christ and to my director
Eternally in joy for a day’s exercise on earth
I will not forget Thy word. Amen.
III
This is not the total of my faith, for even in gazing upon Christ his glory carries the awesome weight of truth. The divine love and wisdom revealed to us at the cross is far too deep to have been manufactured by our shallow hearts and minds. At the same time, it is exactly what our hearts and minds know is there and strain to reach. God is above us in every way, including in his existence. Indeed, it is more fitting to ask whether we exist, than to ask whether the great I AM exists. [1]
Even then, I do not find the existence of God to clash with the experience of my senses. Day by day, year by year, my eyes are opened to the reality of creation and the Creator, each becoming more visible as I see the other. This is my testimony; by God’s grace, the abyss closes up.
I write this with two possible readers in mind. One is the Christian who has the same doubts. I cannot solve them; but I want to talk about them, and about our journeys through them. If we come from a place of faith, we may discuss our doubts without fear of everything crumbling. They should not be our daily theme; James warns us not to be tossed about by such winds. Instead, let us lay our belief and our unbelief before the Lord who calms the storm. He changes not, it is we who will change.
The other reader is the unbeliever who thinks that Christians haven’t quite thought through these questions. Friend, our everyday and our eternity hang on such matters. We wrestle with them. Perhaps you read of my experience and thought it sentimental and irrational. Well, let the world deride or pity – I defy anyone to see what I have seen and not say what I have said.
The Second Discourseman
[1] I took this from Barth’s Dogmatics in Outline. No, I haven’t read all of Church Dogmatics.
The Four Discoursemen 