At the dinner table, my father said: “People are not persuaded to believe in God by apologetics. They believe because they need Him.”

I’m not sure if he’s correct, but I know he isn’t wrong. (Aren’t I the paradox smith?) I was not persuaded to believe God, nor to believe in Him, because of the validity of the New Testament as a historical document. Nor did I believe because of the sheer impossibility of life assembling itself out of nothingness.

I believed because I experienced God. I believed because a man died and rose again. I continued believing, though, because I knew that this Christ was a man, that the Bible was all I had, and that God could create a stone that He could not lift, and then lift it. Or something like that…