Belief - More or Less

 "People must believe what they can, and those who believe more must not be hard upon those who believe less. I doubt you would have believed it all yourself if you hadn't seen some of it. -- George MacDonald (The Princess and the Goblin) pg. 170

This beautiful quote from George MacDonald’s -The Princess and the Goblin - captures a profound moment of gentle wisdom spoken by the mysterious, grandmotherly figure to young Princess Irene. In the story, Irene has encountered wonders—her ethereal great-great-grandmother, a magical thread, and unseen realities—that others struggle to accept. When Curdie, the brave miner boy, doubts her tales despite the evidence of his rescue, the grandmother offers this compassionate insight:

 “People must believe what they can, and those who believe more must not be hard upon those who believe less. I doubt if you would have believed it all yourself if you hadn’t seen some of it.”

The line gently rebukes judgment while acknowledging the very human limits of faith and perception. It reminds us that belief isn’t a uniform achievement or a moral failing—it's shaped by experience, temperament, timing, and what each heart is ready to receive.

When we think about Christ’s approach to people in the Gospels, this sentiment echoes deeply. Jesus never forces belief or condemns those who are slow to grasp the truth. He meets people exactly where they are, at their own pace, offering invitation rather than ultimatum:

- He heals the sick and then says, “Your faith has made you whole,” honoring whatever measure of trust they could muster—even if it was as small as a mustard seed.

- With the doubting disciples, like Thomas, He appears again and invites touch, saying “Do not disbelieve, but believe,” without shaming the need for evidence.

- He calls fishermen, tax collectors, and sinners with simple “Follow me,” letting transformation unfold over time rather than demanding instant, full comprehension.

- Even on the cross, He prays for those crucifying Him: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do”—extending grace to those whose belief was minimal or absent.

Jesus embodies the grandmother’s counsel: those who “believe more” (in this case, Christ Himself, who knows the Father perfectly) do not look down with hardness on those who believe less. Instead, He walks alongside, reveals truth gradually, and gives space for growth. Faith, in His hands, is not a competition or a test of worthiness but a journey of becoming—much like following an invisible thread through darkness toward light.

MacDonald’s words invite us to extend the same patience in our own lives: toward doubters, seekers, new believers, or even ourselves on days when faith feels thin. We don’t need to rush others (or ourselves) to “see it all” right away. Sometimes, a little seeing is enough to start. The rest comes in time, by grace.

In a world quick to judge levels of belief, this quiet call to kindness feels profoundly Christ-like: believe what you can, and be gentle with those who can believe less—for you might not have believed more yourself without the grace of having seen.