Belief is simple the way language is simple. If there’s a bunch of different sized and colored buckets in the corner of the garage, and you send me over there to get the big red one, you say it exactly like that: “big red bucket.” You never say “red big bucket.” Do you know why? Probably not; that’s just how it’s said. Simple, right?
Well…not exactly. When you start examining the order of English adjectives, you’ll discover that there’s a very strong, nearly inviolate rule. Linguists have mapped it, and use the acronym OSASCOMP (opinion, size, age, shape, color, origin, material, purpose). Size comes before color; there ya go. That’s pretty complicated, isn’t it? Who thinks about that? Nobody but linguists, and people learning the language as adults. If you’re a native speaker of English, you can live your whole life without ever being consciously aware of the rule — all the while keeping it.
Thus also with belief. We can get deep in the philosophical weeds on what belief is and how it all works — it’s complex the way everything in God’s world, especially everything human, is complex. But you don’t need to grasp all the deep philosophy to just believe something. We do it every day. Wake up, there’s light streaming in the window — you believe it’s morning. You glance at the clock, which reads 5:45 am — you just believe it’s true. Check the weather for the day and see that there’s an 80% chance it’ll rain this afternoon — you trust them enough to take a jacket with you when you leave the house. Of course you’re not sure it will rain (and the weather guy isn’t either), but you believe that it’s likely enough to be worth taking a jacket. And so on….
And that’s not even to speak of all the things you’re just assuming: the reality of the physical world, personal existence, causality…somewhere in the aether, the spirit of David Hume seethes with envy. (Not really. He admitted he assumed those things too — couldn’t seem to stop himself.)
The places where the gospel is presented in Scripture also don’t get deep into the philosophical weeds. The biblical accounts of human nature will stand up to deep and rigorous examination, but most people never go there, and never need to. So whether we look at a particular evangelistic encounter between Jesus and Matthew, say, or Nathaniel, or Nicodemus, or whether we’re looking at a work like John’s Gospel as a whole, we see a pretty commonsense presentation of belief.
That’s because the biblical accounts focus the reader on Jesus, not on the reader himself. The goal is not to gaze at yourself in the mirror as you believe in something. The goal is to look to Jesus. Focus on Him, not on your own belief.
As we encounter people who need to meet Jesus, that’s what we want for them, too. So again, we don’t get deep in the weeds over what believing is; we don’t need to. What we do need to do is live like Christians, which provokes the questions to which Jesus is the answer (1 Peter 3:15). Then we tell them who He is and what He did.
When you’re telling people about Jesus, don’t soften it with “I believe that…” In polite secular society, “I believe that…” is code for “you don’t need to agree.” We reserve that expression for matters of opinion, not matters of fact. When you’re announcing a fact, you just say it; you don’t lead off with “I believe.” Try it: “I believe that gravity works.” “I believe the sky is blue.” “I believe 2+2=4.”
Sound funny, right? Of course it does — because when you’re mentioning that 2+2=4, your belief is not important. Nobody cares if you believe it; they care if it’s true. So if you wouldn’t say “I believe” there, don’t say “I believe” when you’re announcing facts about Jesus either. Just announce the truth:
“Every evil thing you’ve ever done, every character flaw, every failing, was nailed to the cross with Jesus; died on the cross with Jesus; was buried in the earth with Jesus; and when God raised Him from the dead on the third day, He didn’t come out of the grave dragging a Hefty bag of your crap! It’s all done; He took care of it, and He offers you a new, clean, resurrected life that starts right now. You could quit wallowing in all that right now and be free for the rest of your life! What do you say?”
You don’t need them to say “I believe.” You just want them to believe. Too often, we focus our message on the act of believing. Don’t. Focus your message the way Jesus did: on Jesus Himself. We don’t want this person looking in the mirror watching themselves believe in Jesus. We want them looking at Jesus and believing in Him. Let the focus be on Jesus, not on their belief.
(For the record, I’m not against getting into the philosophical weeds in order to look more closely at how belief works — it’s fascinating, and it’s part of the world God made. We’ll learn good things from the examination if we conduct it well. But that’s a whole other layer, and we don’t need to drag unbelievers through it.)