Thats a big if.
From an old book of mine:
The Butterfly. At the close of an address, a young man came to me with the air of one whose intelligence had been insulted.
He said, "Surely, you do not mean to tell me that you believe in the resurrection?"
I replied, "Certainly, I do."
He looked at me in astonishment, as though I had very poor sense and really needed someone to look after my affairs. Then he said to me, "Do you mean to tell me that you believe that Lazarus came out of the grave when Jesus spoke to him?"
"Yes," I replied, "certainly and positively; there is no question about it. Jesus had given him his life and Jesus had allowed it back to him again, and He did so."
Again my young friend expressed his disdain for my foolish belief, and said, "You look intelligent. How is it that one who is intelligent would believe such foolishness?"
I replied, "I suppose you reject the record of the resurrection because you cannot understand it. Am I correct in this?"
"Yes," he replied, "you are! Tell me, how did Lazarus come out of the grave?"
I said to him, "Now you have changed the question. First, you inquired as to whether Lazarus did come out, and I replied that certainly he did. Now you ask me how he came out, and I must reply that I do not know."
The young man seemed to think that he had gained a signal victory, so I went on, "Do you reject the truth of the resurrection simply because you cannot understand it?" He answered most emphatically, "Yes sir: I will believe nothing that I cannot understand."
I thought it was only fair that I should take him at his word so I said, "Do you believe that butterflies come out of cocoons?" He replied that he did. I then asked, "How does the butterfly get out?" This question baffled him.
ASfter a few moments, he replied rather officiously, "It bites its way out, of course."
"How many teeth does a butterfly have?" I asked.
He hardly knew what to say to this simple question, so he replied, "I do not know. How many teeth does it have?"
"Well, you see there is at least one thing that you do not know," was my reply. "As a matter of fact a butterfly does not have any teeth at all, not even a mouth, but only a long slender proboscis." Again I asked him, "How does the butterfly get out?"
He replied, "I suppose it emits a sort of acid which burns a hole through the cocoon."
I asked him if he did not think it would be a strange paradox if a butterfly could emit an acid strong enough to burn through the tough cocoon and yet could not burn itself. He admitted that this was true and that he must be wrong.
"That is right," I said. "So there are two things that you do not know. Tell me, how does it get out?"
His reply to my third question was, "I suppose it must swell up and burst its way out."
Quickly I answered, "Now there are three things that you d o not know, for the cocoon is waterproof, airproof, light proof and heat proof. How could it swell up when there is no air with which to expand? Did you ever try to tear a cocoon with your hands?" (I noticed that he had large strong hands like a blacksmith's). He replied that he had often tried to do it, but had never succeeded.
Then I said to him, "You cannot tear a cocoon with your big, strong hands, but you are so wise and well informed that you are confident that the soft, tender butterfly could tear it by swelling up with air which it does not have."
Again I asked him, "How does the butterfly get out?" He began to color and reveal his discomfort. His guessing was at an end. He had to admit that he did not know. I then asked him, "Does the butterfly come out of the cocoon?"
"Yes, certainly it does," he answered.
"So did Lazarus come out of the tomb when Jesus spoke," I replied, "but I cannot tell you how he did it." |
