A Christian is one who points at Christ and says, “I can’t prove a thing, but there’s something different about His eyes and His voice. There’s something different about the way He carries His head, His hands, the way He carries His cross — the way He carries me.
Modern persons will never find rest for their restless hearts without Christ, for modern culture is nothing but the wasteland from which the gods have departed, and so this restlessness has become its own deity; and, deprived of the shelter of the sacred and the consoling myths of sacrifice, the modern person must wander or drift, vainly attempting one or another accommodation with death, never escaping anxiety or ennui, and driven as a result to a ceaseless labor of distraction, or acquisition, or willful idiocy. And, where it works its sublimest magic, our culture of empty spectacle can so stupefy the intellect as to blind it to its own disquiet, and induce a spiritual torpor more deplorable than mere despair.
–David Bentley Hart,
Christ and Nothing
For it seemed to me certain, and I still think so today, that one can never wrestle enough with God if one does so out of pure regard for the truth. Christ likes us to prefer truth to him because, before being Christ, he is truth. If one turns aside from him to go toward the truth, one will not go far before falling into his arms.
Waiting for God
In one of their periodic efforts to eradicate religious belief in the Soviet Union, the Communist party sent KGB agents to the nation’s churches on a Sunday morning. One agent was struck by the deep devotion of an elderly woman who was kissing the feet of a life-size carving of Christ on the cross.
“Grandmother,” he said. “Are you also prepared to kiss the feet of the beloved general secretary of our great Communist party?”
“Why, of course,” came the immediate reply. “But only if you crucify him first.”
No God But God