Believing Like a Fool – Why Christianity Seems Irrational

The Christian faith makes demands that do not fit into ordinary thinking. It speaks of the resurrection of a crucified man and of forgiveness that can be stronger than retribution. It confesses that God became man in Jesus Christ and remains present in the Eucharist. In doing so, it touches on questions that no laboratory can answer and no calculation can settle.

Paul writes of that “no eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no human heart has conceived” and “what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9). In doing so, he is not describing a realm where any thought would do. The Christian faith has a definite content, it is grounded in God's action, and it lays claim to truth. That is why it seems utterly foreign to anyone who will only accept what can be seen and tested.

Reason is not set aside by faith. It does, however, recognize its own limit. Reason can indeed examine the world, uncover connections, and ask for causes; but it cannot force God to submit to its own standards. Where God reveals himself, man stands before a reality greater than anything he himself can produce or master.

The Resurrection of Jesus Christ and the Demand of Love for Enemies

The Resurrection of Jesus Christ is the decisive point of our faith. If it is taken away, what remains of Jesus is a remarkable teacher whose life ended violently on a cross. His call to conversion, his healings, and his words would have shaped history, but death would have triumphed over him. Paul draws a clear conclusion from this: “And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile” (1 Corinthians 15:17).

The Church, however, proclaims that Christ is risen. In doing so, she is not claiming that death and grief are unreal. It is precisely the Christian faith that takes death seriously, because Christ himself suffered it. He died on the cross, was buried, and rose on the third day. This connection keeps the Resurrection from becoming a comforting phrase for hard times. What is at stake is God's victory over a power to which every human being must otherwise bow.

When Jesus says to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, even though he die, shall live” (John 11:25), he speaks directly into the concrete grief over her brother Lazarus. Martha receives no explanation that could dissolve her pain. Christ leads her to himself. In him lies the hope that the grave may not have the final claim over a human being, as though that person's life belonged to it forever.

This is where faith is tested. The Resurrection cannot be produced or repeated. It stands as an event at the beginning of the apostles' preaching, who testified that they had encountered the Risen One. Whoever accepts this testimony trusts God against appearances. This may seem irrational, because it crosses the boundary of what can be proven. Yet it is not a thoughtless leap. Faith hinges on Jesus Christ and on the question of whether God truly has the power he claims in Scripture.

His power is also shown in the love of enemies. “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44), says Jesus. This commandment strikes a sensitive point. Injury calls for a response, and injustice gives rise to the desire that the wrongdoer should feel the consequences of his actions. Jesus does not declare injustice irrelevant. But he strips hatred of its claim to rule the heart of the one who has been wronged.

Love of enemies therefore does not mean a defenseless consent to evil. It can go together with clear boundaries, with the call for justice, and with the protection of those who are threatened. Yet it holds fast to the truth that revenge brings no salvation. To pray for an enemy means leaving the final judgment to God. And one is thereby kept from giving hatred room in one's own heart. Here too an order shows itself that resists human calculation: evil is not overcome by being passed on or returned in another form.