"What would it take?"  So did a person in my atheist discussion group ask me a few weeks ago, "What would it take for you to give up your faith in God?"
     The too easy answer is to say, well, nothing.  My faith is rock solid.  Yet we fool ourselves if we think this is always true.  By its very nature, faith is tenuous.  It's there, but it's not, present, but absent, too.
     So, this person asked, on what basis do you hold your faith?  Evidence, I reply, evidence that God is there, evidence that only the presence of a personal intelligence explains the nature of humankind and the world, evidence that, all things considered, it's more logical, in every way, to attribute cosmic origins to a cognitive personal rather than an impossibly metaphysical nothingness.
     Ah, this person responds, this is bad evidence.  It will not hold up.  By whose standard, I say?  Moreover, even if one finds the physical evidence lacking, in the big picture, we do not build our faith on physical evidence alone.  Faith doesn't work that way.  In its core, faith is a sense of trust, a sense of trust in the veracity of a presence with whom we have a relationship.  It's subjective, yes, but it's a subjective response to an objective truth. It's no less a leap to suppose the world "just is."
     In the end, I add, my faith in God rests upon a finely woven tapestry of objective evidence and subjective truth.  Those who enter into this faith must decide that we cannot understand existence apart from grasping both, together and simultaneously, the necessary metaphysical and the essential facts of humanness, past, present, and future.
     Predictably, he was not convinced.  Maybe you're not, either.  That's quite all right.  We will not believe unless we decide we are willing to do so.
     It's really that simple.