<a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/874896167_e443221cab.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-259" title="874896167_e443221cab" src="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/874896167_e443221cab.jpg" alt="" width="441" height="452" /></a>
<h5 style="padding-left: 300px;">Photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/mckaysavage/">McKay Savage</a></h5>
As you may have noticed, I was handed many tough questions for my <a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/?p=250">recent series of posts</a>, but one was, without a doubt, the hardest and scariest of all for me: <a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/?p=252">Why do you feel the need for a faith at all?</a>

The question itself is just a huge one. No way around it. Thousands of people have written millions of words on the subject.

<strong>But it's also always been a somewhat embarrassing question for me.</strong> I've made great strides in moving beyond the stage of my life that involved often hiding what I believed until I felt "safe," but a hint of sheepishness is still there. (Yes, I believe that God listens to me when I talk to him, and he has special things to say to me, and that Jesus was both God and man, which makes all the difference. And <em>yes</em>, I know that all sounds utterly insane.)

In a post last fall, <a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/?p=75">Open mouth, insert whatever's real</a>, I wrote about a conversation my small group from church had, back in September, about what keeps us from sharing our story. By that, I don't mean walking up to people and trying to convert them. I just mean bringing our faith into the conversation when it makes sense.

As we discussed this, we saw that a number of things get in the way of saying what our heart is telling us to say. But a clear winner emerged: fear. Specifically our fear that non-Christians will dismiss us as soon as they discover what we believe.

This week at small group, we talked about a different fear—not the one that arises in those moments when we <em>think</em> about mentioning our faith but decide not to, but the one that hits us, head-on, when someone asks, "Why do you even bother to believe?"

It's true, I can't say I've been asked that question, flat out, very many times. But still. <strong>The thought of trying to answer it is scary! Not answering it is even scarier!</strong>
<h4>Trying to pin down what "just feels right"</h4>
To help beat down the fear, each person in my small group has been contemplating how they would articulate not <em>what</em> they believe, necessarily, but <em>why</em>. <strong>"Why" is much harder to put into words, because so much of it is just a feeling,</strong> and most of us have been conditioned to not trust and respect our own feelings, let alone the feelings of others.

One guy said he sees loads of evidence that a faith in Jesus—truly trying to live like Jesus, serving others, focusing on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fruits_of_the_Holy_Spirit">fruits of the spirit</a>—has a positive affect on the world. Period.

Another guy said he grew up "hating church," but then he met some people—a particular family at our church—who were "Christians and they were free," as he put it. <strong>"They weren't just following the rules, they were actually living with a kind of freedom</strong>, that was completely evident."

Someone else said everything he believes to be true about the world—<strong>everything that actually <em>works</em> in the world, in a way that just <em>feels</em> <em>right</em>—lines up with who Jesus is and how Jesus teaches us to live.</strong>
<h4>A peace that can't be pinned down</h4>
As I sat there, listening to everyone working hard and digging deep to put it all into words, I felt an amazing sense of peace move in, crowding out my fear and embarrassment and evasiveness.

It wasn't because everyone was so convincing, and their explanations were so solid and smart. It was because <strong>they were willing to be so concretely passionate about something so big and abstract.</strong> They were able to gather up and embrace a collection of things that are typically difficult to embrace in this world: The grey areas. The things that can't be seen. The feelings and ideas that go against our intellect. The hope of something better.

And in a way, that alone—just the mere fact that a collection of average humans can take such a leap—is evidence and explanation enough. At least for me, right now.