Since those times we have grown accustomed to say that we believe in Christ--even though we do not really believe. Expressed belief and real belief are very different matters. What we think we believe in is not the living Christ as He was in the flesh, but a Christ we have created for ourselves--a white-robed, visionary figure that passes through the world of humanity like a spirit rather than like a man of flesh and blood. For the story of Christ is surrounded by the narrative of such incredibly miraculous happenings that it is necessary for us to create such a spiritual image, or else we cannot believe those narratives at all. It is with us now as it was in those ages past--we cannot bear to have the spiritual image of truth blasphemed by the living fact. In our souls we disbelieve that which seems to us to be unbelievable. We endeavor to stimulate faith, first by saying that we believe, and then by creating for ourselves an imaginary image of Christ who might have performed the miracles if He had really lived. Nearly all intelligent and thoughtful men really do believe in the existence of an infinitely intelligent and infinitely powerful deity. For a man has but to gaze about him and he beholds, with the eyes of his flesh, infinity itself--infinity of what is great; infinity of what is minute; infinity of time; infinity of space. These are actual entities, for we know that there never was and never can be a time in which there was no created thing--not even vacuum--and we know that there can be no limit to space in which everything--even space itself--ceases to exist. The very material universe exists infinitely, and we behold with the eyes of the flesh. We do not comprehend it, yet we know that it really is. In the hollow vault of night we behold countless myriads of huge and flaming suns, scattered like dust through the sky, or sparkling in points of radiance, and we know that that created stellar system extends, without limit, into the emptiness of limitless space. We know that each incredibly gigantic sun--flaming with light and heat--follows a perfect and well-assigned orbit. We know that about each of these glorious suns there must revolve scores of planets, like this earth upon which we stand. Seeing this fact with our eyes, it is not possible for the reason to suppose that all this well-ordered and perfect system of enormous stellar and planetary system was created, is governed, is sustained by blind and chaotic chance. Chance never built even so much as a brick wall. How could it, then, create a living sun whose heat and light give life to the planets that revolve about it? There must be a Creator for these things--a Creator infinitely potent, infinitely intelligent--or else those things could not have been created.