Now faith is  . . . the evidence of things not seen.

Faith is not blind.  If my definition of belief is to do something when it makes no sense to do so, to me and everyone else, that may seem brave, even pious and noble, but at best, it is hope combined with a whole lot of uncertainty.

Faith is not creed. If my definition of faith is to believe in something simply because I have been told to do so, be it God or Humanism, that too may seem noble, but still it is not faith.

Faith is evidence. We all are familiar with scientific evidence. Such evidence is the thing of laboratories and of observation. Such evidence is confined to the physical dimension of reality. Faith is evidence, equal in reliability, in fact superior, though of a different nature. Faith is evidence of the unseen, imparted by and to the unseen. But the effect of both faith and scientific evidence is the same: It establishes certainty in the recipient. It convinces the human mind of what is true, enough to take action, whether that be technology, or conversion.

The presence of faith in this world strikes at the core of our modern assumptions about reality. Is it possible that the unseen exists? Moreover, is it possible that we can be convinced of things, certain of them, without reliance on physical proof? Is physical proof truly superior to revelation? Is that how the world was architected? When the Creator established the blueprint of existence, is it conceivable that he would not only display Himself through creation and conscience, but ultimately convince his creation of what they need to know most by reaching out to their hearts in the unseen. Science of course has no way of knowing.

To be open to the unseen it to allow the Creator to speak by whatever means necessary. And for those who have heard His voice, it is all the evidence we need.