How I became a Christian Again [Comment Je Suis Redevenu Chretien] by Jean-Claude Guillebaud is the story of how a French intellectual returned to the Christian faith of his youth.
Maybe the reason I like this book so much is because it’s in French [though lest you get the wrong impression of my French abilities, it’s written in an easy journalistic style and I had to continually look up words]. Francophile that I am, everything seems better in my favorite language. I don’t like listening to talk radio and sports events in English. But if they are in French, suddenly my ears perk up. Is it because French was the first language I studied and some linguistic imprinting took place even though I was never a stellar French student? Or is it because of the chocolate? The bread? The cheese? The wine? But I digress…
Guillebaud started out as a reporter for Le Monde [the French equivalent of the New York Times] and then became a book editor at Editions du Seuil [perhaps the equivalent of Random House]. He grew up as a nominal Catholic which meant by the time he went to college, he had given up any connection to faith. He covered several wars but it was the civil war in Lebanon that disturbed him most and brought him to the question of evil. For the first time he became aware that evil was not something external, but there was an intimate enemy that lives inside each person.
His return to faith was a slow process over many years. He wasn’t searching for consolation or fleeing from existential despair but rather he was trying to understand how the world came to be as it is. And as he traveled on his way back to faith in Christ, he passed through three circles.
In the first circle he looked at the sources of our modern world and realized how much of our culture was formed by its Judeo-Christian heritage. The values that were important to him, such as the right of the individual and social equality, developed as a result of Christianity.
From there he came to a second circle where he began to rethink what Christianity is. He saw that at the core of Christianity is a subversive, radical faith that has split the world in two. In the kingdom of God the poor and weak, rather than the powerful, are given first place. And then there is the scandal of the cross: not only God becoming man, but God crucified.
In the third circle, he came to understand that faith is something you choose to do. There is always a leap involved because faith is concerned with things we don’t understand, things we can’t know–that’s why it’s faith and not knowledge. To believe means to put your confidence in something. It doesn’t mean to passively accept some dogma or truth written in stone. It’s beginning on a path with the hope of arriving at a good place down the road. In other words, faith is where you get on the train, not where the train ends.
This rang true to me. I can coast along living under the label ‘Christian’, but every time I come back to the roots of my faith, I’m bowled over by the mystery and the stunning power of the good news: grace, redemption, resurrection. But this conviction is something I hope for, not something I am going to fully realize while I live on earth. I will never get beyond trusting in what I don’t see. I have to go on in faith. That’s the only way.
“I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” Mark 9:24
[from the archives]