Back in April, Kyle Cupp explained why he had abandoned "God as an explanation" but continued to believe in the story:
On the one hand, my choice to believe the truth of these writings—writings that don’t perfectly add up, to be sure—is a decision to believe that an underlying thematic truth speaks through incredible, fantastical tales told to me by mostly unknown strangers, and passed down to me by figures holy and insidious, self-giving and power-hungry, saintly and vicious. On the other hand, I find some of those who have told and retold these stories, particularly the early Christian martyrs, to be credible witnesses. Those who have given their lives for Christ did so not merely in defiance of their murders, but as an act of witness embraced in the hope that their enemies would become their brothers and sisters. That kind of love strikes me as the height of love. And it’s been known to work wonders. What does my faith give me? It gives me a love story. Not a story that explains love, but a story that gives birth to—and directs my heart, mind, and very being to—the fullest expression and fulfillment of love. It is a story that means everything if it means anything at all. It is a story about what it means to be human and what it means to be divine, both of which tell of what it means to love.
That's beautifully put. I'd add, in my case, a reverence for the sacraments of the Church and an awe in the face of the knowledge that for two millennia, Christians have practised them just as I can. Kupp stands by the fact that religious certainty is overrated:
It’s possible that what I call my faith experiences are the result of digestion, bodily chemistry, neurosis, the fear of death, or the desire for meaning. Because I do not know myself with certainty, I cannot know my faith with certainty. … It’s not as though certainty is one of the virtues, theological or otherwise. I seem to get along, faith-wise, just fine without it.
I think I get along better, faith-wise, with it.
(Image by Alejandro Diaz via mrod)
The Dish 