I do believe in something. But preferably not too much

‘I don’t really believe in God, but I do believe in something.’

You hear people say that surprisingly often. I even made a short video about it this week, because I actually find it a fascinating statement. What exactly is that ‘something’? A force? A consciousness? Something behind the universe? Something that ensures our life has meaning?

Apparently, many people intuitively feel that reality is greater than what we can see and measure. Of course, that proves nothing. A feeling is not proof, and you can just as easily explain that same desire as a clever evolutionary trick: something that helped us survive, without there being anything real to correspond to it. That is a fair objection, and I will not try to refute it here. But it doesn't make the question uninteresting. It makes it sharper. Because if so many people, in so many times andcultures, continue to feel that longing for something higher, then you may at least ask the question where that points to. Maybe nowhere. But you only know that if you really ask the question.

And the longer I think about it, the more interesting I find another question.

Why do we like to stick to 'something' so much?

Something is quite comfortable

There's a great advantage to believing in something. That something makes few demands.

A vague universe rarely has an opinion on how I live my life. A higher power doesn't contradict me. 'There must be something' allows me to make room for spirituality, for meaning, perhaps even for an afterlife, without immediately having to think about what might follow from that.

A personal God is more complicated.

If God truly exists, and if He is more than a name we give to a vague sense of wonder, then uncomfortable follow-up questions arise. Who is He? Can we know Him? Does He have anything to do with our lives? Does He expect something from us? Does something like good and evil exist that isn't simply determined by what I happen to think about it?

And above all: what if God disagrees with me on some points?

There, faith suddenly becomes much less non-committal.

Now I have to be honest: this argument works both ways, and I know that. You could just as well say that people *do* believe in a personal God precisely because it is comforting: a Father who looks after you, ultimate justice, a life that doesn't just end. If 'comfortable' is suspicious, then it is for everyone, including me. I don't think you can deduce from this that belief is therefore untrue, any more than you can deduce from the fact that 'something' is comfortable that nothing exists. Comfort says something aboutwhy we find a conviction attractive. It says nothing about whether it is true. But it is a reason to look at your own beliefs extra critically, not just those of others.

Perhaps we all prefer to believe in a God who agrees with us as much as possible.

And by 'we' I also mean believers. I see that tendency within my own church too. I recognize it in myself. It's incredibly easy to consider important only those parts of faith that align well with how you already live your life, and to be much less enthusiastic when faith asks you to change something within yourself.

That is one of the most uncomfortable characteristics of true faith.

If my faith truly refers to something outside of myself, then it cannot solely be a confirmation of what I already thought. Otherwise, I ultimately believe mostly in myself.

A faith that asks nothing

That does not mean that a faith becomes more valuable the more difficult or strict it is.

Throughout history, religions and religious institutions have imposed rules on people that did not necessarily come from God. They have abused power, kept people subservient, and sometimes caused harm. Obedience in itself is not proof of truth. Therefore, a church that demands a lot from its members does not necessarily have a greater truth than a church that demands little.

But the reverse does not seem obvious to me either.

Why should we assume that a true faith, by definition, shouldn't ask anything of us?

I find that a peculiar modern expectation. We find it completely normal that everything important requires effort. A good marriage requires compromises. Parenthood requires sacrifices. Friendship requires that you sometimes do something you don't immediately feel like doing. Anyone who wants to run a marathon will have to train when the couch seems more appealing.

But when it comes to faith, the expectation sometimes arises that it should primarily remain comfortable.

I like to believe, as long as my faith doesn't hinder me too much in what I was already planning to do.

Then I wonder what faith still means. Not because I think God is waiting for people to deny themselves as many things as possible. That's not how I see God. But because every real relationship does something to a person. Love changes us. Parenthood changes us. A good friendship changes us. If God truly exists, then why would a relationship with Him be the only one that leaves us completely untouched?

That doesn't prove yet that He exists. But it does say something about how you would recognize Him if He did exist: not by a God who precisely confirms what you already thought.

Perhaps we don't so much have a problem with God

In Flanders, there's something else added to that.

When we speak of faith, we don't speak in a historical vacuum. For many people, religion is almost automatically connected with the Catholic church. And that church carries dark pages with it.

We don't have to make that smaller than it is.

Abuse of power, sexual abuse, hypocrisy, social control, and a culture in which religion sometimes had more to do with obligation than with faith: it has left deep traces. Not only among people who experienced it personally, but also in our collective memory.

So I can well understand why someone becomes hesitant when they hear the word 'church'.

And as a member of another church, I would be particularly cautious about responding complacently to that. Religious institutions consist of people. People can make mistakes, misuse power, and sometimes do terrible things. No faith community automatically receives a moral free pass because it claims to speak on behalf of God.

But still, an important question remains for me.

If a religious institution has failed, does that mean that the question of God Himself no longer needs to be asked?

I don't think so. Perhaps in Flanders, we sometimes started to equate two questions.

'Do I still want to have anything to do with the church as I have known it?'

And:

'Does God exist?'

These are not the same questions, even if they are historically intertwined. You can have a very good answer to the first without ever having truly investigated the second.

What do you actually mean by 'something'?

That's why I find the statement 'I do believe in something' so fascinating.

I don't tend to immediately correct someone who says that. On the contrary. My first reaction is curiosity.

Tell me. What is that something?

Do you think the universe has meaning? Do you think consciousness is more than a coincidental side effect of our brains? Do you think good and evil are truly based on something? Do you think something of us remains when our body dies? Do you think that what lies behind reality could be personal?

The further you have such a conversation, the stranger that little word 'something' becomes. Because usually it turns out not to be completely empty.

People have intuitions. They sense that love means more than chemical reactions. That justice is not just an agreement between people. That consciousness is strange. That the universe evokes something that is difficult to fully grasp in material terms. That death may not have the final say.

Again: none of that proves God. But they are questions. And questions may be investigated.

Do not join immediately

Perhaps that is also something we as believers sometimes approach incorrectly.

When someone shows some interest in faith, we want to get to the answer too quickly. To the Bible. To Jesus Christ. To the church. To an invitation.

Don't get me wrong: I believe in those things. I am a member of a church because I truly believe that I have found something true and valuable there. Of course, I am happy to share that.

But sometimes you also just have to give someone space to search. Without an immediate goal behind it.

A conversation about God doesn't have to end with a baptism date to be a good conversation.

Maybe it just starts with someone saying: 'I do believe in something.' And someone else answering: 'I find that interesting. What do you mean by that?'

I could easily talk about that all evening. Not to argue someone into a corner. Not to win an intellectual game. But because I am genuinely interested in what people believe and why, and because I think that in our society we have sometimes stopped having those kinds of conversations much too quickly.

Religion has become private. God is something you'd rather not talk about. And whoever does believe, should especially not take it too seriously.

Perhaps we are missing something because of that.

Perhaps 'something' is just the beginning

I increasingly think there's nothing wrong with the statement 'I do believe in something'. Perhaps it's even an excellent starting point.

It only becomes a pity when we make it an endpoint. When 'something' actually means: I suspect there is more, but I'd rather not look too closely at what that might be. Because what if I discover that it asks something of me? What if my worldview has to change? What if I have to adjust my idea of God? Or my idea of myself.

But that's precisely where faith starts to become interesting for me. Not when it confirms all my ideas. Not when it exclusively reassures me. But when I am willing to say: if there really is something, then I want to know what. Even if the answer surprises me. Even if it contradicts me. Even if it leads me somewhere else than where I stand today.

Perhaps 'I do believe in something' is not a weak faith at all. Perhaps it's just a first sentence.

And then comes the interesting question: do we dare to speak the second one too?