Illustration: Chiara Ghigliazza

Topics: April/May 2022, Spirituality | Theology

One church pub night showcased our age-old struggle to believe in the Resurrection

Jesus' friends had trouble buying that he had risen from the dead, and they didn't have our obsession with rationalism


It was one of those “Beer and God” nights ever popular with congregations that want to keep it real and relevant. Nearing Easter, a decade back, 13 people met in the Upper Room (yes, 13; and yes, it was actually called that) of a Toronto pub’s second floor. We ordered our pints, our greasy plates. The early career minister led us in prayer, and then we watched a video featuring a slick evangelical talking about the Resurrection.

Most of the people were from the minister’s mainline Protestant congregation. I was there as a friend of the minister and an observer. I sat at the back, kept my opinion, sipped my beer. 

As the group members went around the table to discuss the Resurrection, to my surprise, they stated they did not believe it actually happened. One woman in her late 70s confessed she also had great difficulty with the virgin birth and the miracles — the very tenets of her Christian faith. One man in his 60s categorically stated that Shakespeare’s Hamlet had more truth in it than the Bible. 

The minister struggled to gain control of the evening as his congregants, empowered by each other, spoke boldly, seemingly for the first time.

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I watched as they twisted themselves into complicated theological contortions. Three congregants in their 20s spoke of a generic God and spirituality. They didn’t understand why there had to be miracles. “Magic tricks,” one said. The Hamlet-lover pounced on that.

Deus ex machina! he proclaimed. (That essentially was his critique of the Bible, perhaps missing the point of the holy book.)

“Nobody ever taught me these things,” said the 70-something woman. “We were told the stories when we were kids, but we weren’t allowed to ask any questions. I’ve never dared to ask any questions.” Those may not have been her exact words, but that’s how I remember them. I’ve heard that speech before, and since, from many people who regularly go to church. 

I ordered a second pint. An hour in, the minister had given up on leading. The 12 non-clergy in the Upper Room were really no different from the original dozen. Those disciples had just gone through three years of unique experiences, including intimate conversations with Jesus himself. And still they hadn’t quite figured out the whole “Christ” thing. They had their doubts. 

After the crucifixion, they all had difficulty accepting Jesus had risen from the dead. Not one of them believed it could happen. (Well, the women did, but that’s a different essay.) One demanded physical proof. And I have a feeling, based more on the nature of humanity than the inherited text, Thomas was just speaking up on behalf of the others. 

We see that throughout the Hebrew Bible: God is a pillar of smoke, a gust of wind, a voice, an actual human-like presence in the garden, and every time the followers are like, “Yeah, that can’t be happening.” Church hasn’t changed much in a few millennia. 

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We crave awe. We crave beauty. God places these before us, and we shake our heads in disbelief. And the people in the Bible did not have to contend with the post-Reformation obsession with rationalism like we do. “It’s not scientific,” we say. 

So, I have some compassion for the dozen of us in that room above the noisy pub, dipping our fries into ramekins of ketchup, sighing our doubts about the Resurrection. If Jesus did rise from the dead, then that means God does exist, and that means there may well be more to life than the prosaic pursuit of our daily bread and weekend pleasures. And that would mean that church, regardless of the denomination or ideology, is about much more than filling pews and paying for bureaucracies and old buildings.

I didn’t finish that second pint. I stepped out, paid my tab at the bar and went for a walk in the mid-spring evening. From a corner of my brain, I pulled out a familiar quotation: “There are more things in heaven and earth…than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” I said it out loud in my Laurence Olivier accent, and I started to laugh. 


Andrew Faiz is a writer in Toronto.

This story first appeared in Broadview’s April/May 2022 issue with the title “Of beer and God.”

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  • says:

    There is scientific fact and there is belief. They are two different things. I choose to live by the things Jesus taught. The stories are metaphors. Whether there was a virgin birth or a resurrection doesn't make my ethical standards any more or less real. The teaching involves how we live our lives as moral and ethical human beings.


    • says:

      So, if the virgin birth and resurrection are not real, was Christ real?

      If not, then His claims of being God are not real.
      If His claims are not real, is there a God? (Outside of your imagination.)

      If there is not God, why have ethical standards? If you do have ethical standards, where do they come from?
      We all have different standards, are yours right and Mahatma Gandhi's wrong? Surely you do not have the same standards.
      None of us have morals and ethics which live up to others.

  • says:

    It's not so much that God isn't "scientific", it's that God is not a rational explanation for anything.

    Yes we crave awe and beauty, but we also crave explanations. Where we don't have a defensible explanation, an impressive yet indefensible one will be very tempting indeed. God is that tempting explanation.

    There almost certainly are more things out there than any of us have dreamt of, but for increasing numbers of people, Christianity doesn't have the answers, either. It's just another blind stab in the dark.


    • says:

      What a despairing thought, that life is a "blind stab in the dark". Why live?

      If Christianity doesn't have all the answers, who/what does?
      At least it offers hope, which is better than your "philosophy".


      • says:

        Christianity is a "stab-in-the-dark" -not life. It's one explanation of our place in the universe, among thousands. And Christianity has thousands of contradictory denominations within itself. It can't agree on basic beliefs.

        Life is a grand mystery. Christianity does not help solve it. To be fair, neither do any of the other religions. Perhaps we'll never know, but I'd rather admit that than throw in with an explanation because it's, what? Old? Popular? Illustrated in stained glass?


        • says:

          "And Christianity has thousands of contradictory denominations within itself. It can't agree on basic beliefs."
          You're wrong there. Although some denominations may not "profess" the Apostles, and Nicene creeds, they agree with them in principle. If the church agrees here, the rest of what they "disagree about" doesn't really matter. Think of a large family, do you think they all agree with each other? Ideally the Church consists of our Spiritual brothers and sisters, why should those of us in a fallen state expect to be perfect? Just forgiving.
          One day you will know that Christianity solves life's mysteries. Hopefully you be able to stand before Christ and explain why He should allow you to enter eternal life, which is far better than this one.


          • says:

            That's just a thinly-veiled threat. Is that what Christianity boils down to? Threats of rejection from some eternal party?

            I'm not suggesting I have all the answers, but at least I'm not threatening people with bouncer Jesus.