New website for youth and youth leaders: str place.
Go there. It’s worth your while.
More videos and resources will be uploaded frequently. I especially appreciate the “truth matters” and “are you homophobic?” videos.
New website for youth and youth leaders: str place.
Go there. It’s worth your while.
More videos and resources will be uploaded frequently. I especially appreciate the “truth matters” and “are you homophobic?” videos.
My friend Brett Kunkle, who works for apologetics organization Stand to Reason, recently sent me his newsletter. I’m going to quote some of it to you, for it highlights something about the role of apologetics in disicpleship that people often miss.
A bit of background: oftentimes when Brett speaks to Christians in high school and to youth pastors, he first poses as an atheist to the crowd. They don’t know he’s really a Christian, so he engages them and slowly picks apart their faith. He “comes out” later and walks them through the challenges, but his main goal in doing the posing is to wake the audience up to their need to learn how to defend their faith. Most can’t do it very well. Most can’t do it at all.
On to the letter:
It was eighty against one. Not good odds, but when I role-play an atheist with the typical Christian students, I like my chances. But these weren’t students. They were adults. And not just any adults, but Christian leaders on the East Coast. Pastors, youth pastors, parachurch leaders, school teachers, and administrators.
I launched in to my “Why I’m not a Christian” arguments. Debate quickly followed. From the start, a number of adults appealed to their experience of the Holy Spirit–”I know God is real because I’ve experienced His Spirit.” I quickly shot back, “How do you know that’s really God? Mormons say the same thing. Do you think they’re experiencing God as well?”
One man in particular was emphatic. “I just know it’s the Holy Spirit speaking to me.” He tried to bolster the argument, declaring God had spoken to him through the Bible as well. I responded with a typical atheist challenge. “The Bible tells us that God spoke to Abraham, asking him to sacrifice his son.” Then I looked him in the eye and questioned him, “If God asked you to kill your son, would you do it?” He joked about his son sitting there next to him, but he could not answer the challenge.
In fact, there were only two leaders out of those 80 who gave me real trouble during the exchange. The first, a youth pastor, launched into the moral argument for God’s existence. I tried to take the “morals are determined by society” route, but he calmly pinned me down. The second, a deacon and Sunday school teacher, offered a design argument, articulating Michale Behe’s argument from irriducible complexity. I quickly changed topics.
Brett goes on in the letter to reveal that both men had included thinking skills training in their discipleship to Christ: both made extensive use of the training materials from Stand to Reason.
Then, Brett continues:
Later, the man who claimed he just knew it was the Holy Spirit speaking to him approached me. He wanted my help. “My son, sitting next to me, is doubting everything.” Then he burst into tears. Embarrassed, he grabbed my arm and pulled me around the corner. As he wept bitterly, his son’s story emerged. A bright kid, grew up in a Christian home, led friends to the Lord, on fire for Christ, even preached in their church. But now, he questioned it all. He begged me, “Will you talk to him? Please, will you talk to him today?”
After my final teaching session, the son approached me, quickly launching into a laundry list of objections to Christianity. A lenghty conversation ensued, covering topics like objective moral truths, utilitarian ethical theory, Kant’s categorical imperative, retributive justice, divine hiddenness, intelligent design, and the experience of the Holy Spirit. From the conversation, I guessed he was a graduate student in philosophy. Wrong. He was a high school senior.
His objections boiled down to this: “I’ve been taught that Christianity’s truthfulness is confirmed by my experience. I am no longer having powerful Christian experiences. In addition, I’m reading arguments against Christianity. I now wonder if it’s rational for me to remain a Christian.” He had just rehearsed his father’s argument for Christianity…and its shortcomings.
I listened, offered thoughts to reframe his view of Christianity’s truthfulness, put personal experience in its proper place, and introduced him to apologetics. He thanked me and we parted ways.
He ends by making a request to pray for the young man.
Brett’s letter underscores a few important things. First, the Christian worldview has the resources to answer the objections and questions that are posed to it, but few believers are actually even partially equipped to grasp and communicate those resources. Brett’s experience of the majority in the Church that he recounts in this letter is pretty standard for him. Just think: these were not youth group kids, but adult leaders. When pressed, the only resource all but two of them fell back on boils down to a certain felt experience. That is a biblical part of the life of the Christ follower, but it is of little help when doubts from within and challenges from without come…and both of those will come.
Secondly and relatedly, when we as the Church fail to value the life of the mind, we leave our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ naked and defenseless against the harsh winters of doubt, and we leave non-believers (those who are not easily persuaded by an appeal to a felt experience–which is most non-believers, I’d think) with nothing to grasp onto but “I know because I know because I know.” Brett’s conversation with the high school senior bears this out. Seriously, how is that valuing and loving them? There are lots of smart folks outside the church. When we have nothing to appeal to but the experience of the Holy Spirit, does that take their intellect seriously? If we truly love them, the least we can do is prepare ourselves to be able to walk them through the answers to some of their nagging questions and doubts.
All this reminds me of a friendship I had with a colleague at my former school. We talked about questions and objections to Christianity often (he was an agnostic) in the same manner that Brett talked with the young man. After a few years, one day my friend remarked to me how satisfying it was to be able to talk to me intelligently about such things. I was the only Christian in his life he could do that with. Though the compliment meant a lot to me, I had a certain sadness in my heart: I was the only one?
Thirdly, I know many shy away from training their minds because they think that it’s somehow unChristlike and they view it as combative. Visions of Rush Limbaugh and Bill O’Reilly quickly pop into their heads, and they say, “no thanks.”**
But apologetics need not be like that. Used properly, it is conversational and relational. The conversation Brett engaged in was natural. I know the guy: he doesn’t walk around with a Evidence that Demands a Verdict holster, and he doesn’t have a belt of William Lane Craig bullets strung across his chest. He’s normal. Furthermore, because he has trained his intellect, he can confidently converse with any non-believer, whether he be seeker or skeptic, full-time professor or full-time mom.
If you have nothing but an experience to stand upon, consider devoting your intellect to Christ too. You need not get a phd in philosophy, though that’d be nice. All you gotta do is…do something. You can begin here.
**That’s not to put down either man; it’s just that many would rather not be so aggressively combative, and the two men fit the stereotype.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Apologetics, Atheism, Christianity, Church, Evangelism, God
A big hat tip goes out to Stand to Reason for getting a hold of the following comments by Michael Gershon. He’s got some great points about the whole Brit Hume jahoofus:
The assumption of these criticisms is that proselytization is the antonym of tolerance. Asserting the superiority of one’s religious beliefs, in this view, is not merely bad manners; it involves a kind of divisive, offensive judgmentalism.
But the American idea of religious liberty does not forbid proselytization; it presupposes it. Free, autonomous individuals not only have the right to hold whatever beliefs they wish, they have a right to change those beliefs — and to persuade others to change as well. Just as there is no political liberty without the right to change one’s convictions and publicly argue for them, there is no religious liberty without the possibility of conversion and persuasion….
The root of the anger against Hume is his religious exclusivity — the belief, in Shuster’s words, that “my faith is the right one.” For this reason, according to Shales, Hume has “dissed about half a billion Buddhists on the planet.”
But this supposed defense of other religious traditions betrays an unfamiliarity with religion itself. Religious faiths — Christian, Buddhist, Zoroastrian — generally make claims about the nature of reality that conflict with the claims of other faiths. Attacking Christian religious exclusivity is also to attack almost every vital religious tradition. It is not a scandal to believers that others hold differing beliefs. It is only a scandal to those offended by all belief. Though I am not a Buddhist or a Muslim, I am not “dissed” when a Muslim or a Buddhist advocates his views in public.
Hume’s critics hold a strange view of pluralism. For religion to be tolerated, it must be privatized — not, apparently, just in governmental settings, but on television networks. We must not only have a secular state but a secular public discourse. And so tolerance, conveniently, is defined as shutting up people with whom secularists disagree. Many commentators have been offering Woods advice. But religious advice, apparently and uniquely, should be forbidden. In a discussion of sex, morality and betrayed vows, wouldn’t religious issues naturally arise?
How is our public discourse improved by narrowing it — removing references to the most essential element in countless lives?
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Apologetics, Christianity, culture, God, philosophy, religion
Seems like almost every week I get into a conversation on relativism with my students.
It’s really not by my design; its because any time you talk about a heinous/shocking/evil event, the question arises, “how shall we evaluate this? What shall we make of it?” Hence, relativism. This is the point I made to my students last week as we discussed Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery.”
In a nutshell: “The Lottery” is a short story in which a town engages in a ritual “lottery” each year in order to pick a towns person to stone to death. The story is chilling: the tone in the beginning is nonchalant, like the lottery about to happen is no big deal. When I first read it, I was under the impression that the chosen person would win something good. Then, at the end, all the townspeople–family members included!–turn on the chosen without hesitation. Even her toddler son engages in the stoning! Like I said, chilling. The theme is questioning tradition and culture–the stoning was a tradition and cultural more of the town that all accept blindly, yet it is obvious to us that someone needs to.
During the discussion, I asked my students, “can we judge this culture?” Again, like all other similar discussions, a select few said “yes,” while the rest emphatically said “no.” There was even one girl who brought up infanticide–not abortion, mind you–in China: “it’s an alien culture and doesn’t make sense to us, but that is their belief. Who are we to judge?” She said this with a straight face.
The most surprising part is that a Christian girl in the class–one whom I wrote a reference for last week on a staff application to a kids Christian summer camp–was the most ardent relativist in the class! No matter how hard I questioned them, they dug in. A select few (interestingly, an aggressive atheist student of the Christopher Hitchens brand was one of the ones who “got it,” while the aforementioned Christian girl couldn’t seem to get past her relativism.) only saw the errors of relativism.
The tide turned yesterday, though. I had just finished showing the documentary Invisible Children about a child abduction tragedy occuring in Uganda.
After the film, a student (ironically, the one who expressed ambivalence about the wrongness of infanticide in China) asked, “why isn’t our government getting involved?”
I couldn’t resist. I responded, “well, it’s another culture, and maybe we shouldn’t judge.”
Looonnng, awkward pause. Then the same relativistic students a week ago all said incredulously, “that’s horrible, Mr. B! That doesn’t even make sense. C’mon, you can’t say abducting children and brainwashing them to kill is wrong?” The sharper crayons in the box saw the point, though: “He’s playing ‘devil’s advocate, silly.” I think it slowly dawned on them that their thinking of a week ago is bunk.
If they didn’t get that yesterday, there ain’ no hope.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Apologetics, Christianity, literature, philosophy, religion
Or is Leigh Teabing (a.k.a Dan Brown) off his gourd?
What do you think of his argument?
Last week Greg Koukl participated in a debate on “Do Moral Truths Exist?” and he did a talk at Mount Royal on “Is it Intolerant to Say Jesus is the Only Way?” With the latter, there were some sheisty efforts to silence the discussion, so there was a small turnout. With the former, however, there was no such silencing, so the room was packed.
His comment about the talk at Mount Royal:
It was a sanctioned event sponsored by an authorized campus group and held at a university lecture hall. However, posters for the event were removed and subsequently forbidden to be posted for the event, so there was virtually no publicity and, consequently, a small turnout.
The university’s rationale was two-fold. First, the title was considered “divisive and negative.” However, since the title was taken from the accusation leveled by students themselves against Christians, one wonders if the University was equally offended by the students who made such “divisive and negative” comments. The second reason had to do with the wording underneath the title: “Is choosing a religion merely a matter of preference, like chocolate vs. vanilla? Or is it about something much more serious?” They objected because they said the statement had “racial overtones.”
Here’s the kicker: It was the campus “human rights” watchdog commission that silenced the publicity.
Folks who engage in these sorts of tactics are soooo blind to the irony.
The seniors I teach are embarking on their research paper this week. For many of them, it’s “freak out” time.
It’s an enjoyable time for me, though, for most of the students choose interesting topics, many of which I’m quite familiar with. Today, a surprising number of girls chose abortion, for instance. All of them except one were arguing for the pro-life position, and the one girl that wasn’t solidly in that camp was leaning that way. She was pro-choice with pro-life intuitions (most girls that choose the topic argue the pro-life position, I’ve found). This is all very encouraging to me, if only from an anecdotal standpoint.
I was able to discuss sources with them and point them towards some excellent pro-life papers and books, all written from a scholarly view. I also pointed them towards what many consider the most famous pro-choice argument ever made: the “violinist” argument of Judith Jarvis Thompson (after I mentioned the paper, one student even found it in a book she checked out!). I’ve lost count of the times I’ve ran into that paper ever since my college freshman ethics course.
Why would I point them to that source? I’m not worried: quite a few of the pro-life sources I pointed them towards do an excellent job of answering Jarvis’ argument. Besides, why should I fear? When the truth is put next to the lie, truth wins every time. In my mind, this experience will do nothing but strengthen their ability to argue and dialogue effectively in the public square.
Then there was another student–one of the many class clowns in this one particular class. Good kid…makes class interesting.
I asked him what he was doing his paper on. “Religion and war,” he said. “I love arguing those topics…I HATE religion! Religion has caused so much bloodshed over the years.”
Hmmm..Ok. Well, I’m kinda glad he chose the topic, because I know a thing or two about it.
Without overwhelming him or outright showing my cards, I brought up the fact that he’d need to even-handedly deal with counter-arguments to his thesis (same point I made to the pro-lifers…that’s why I mentioned the Thompson paper) and I pointed him towards “Christianity’s Real Record,” a paper on the whole “religion and bloodshed” deal by Greg Koukl. Before that, though, I asked him why he hated religion, and he told me about his experience in private school. Supposedly, a priest told him he was going to hell. “Why would that matter?” I asked. “That’s horrible,” he replied, “don’t impose your beliefs on me.” (the judgment was directed towards the priest, not me.) Supposedly the priest did just that.
This was curious to me. I mean, I get the fact that many in our modern society are offended at that. It’s just, well, why is offense a good reason to reject a religion or claim? If I have cancer, that fact might horrify and offend me, but that’s not the question I’ll be asking. The real issue is, “do I have cancer?” In that respect, the bottom line question the student should ask is, “does hell, completely aside from my feelings in the matter, really exist?”
I hope that question really makes him think twice about putting anything like that in his research paper (using his feelings of offense as a litmus test for truth). Offense isn’t much to stand on when you are writing what is supposed to be a scholarly paper.
Posted in random
Tagged Abortion, Apologetics, Christianity, God, philosophy, Pro-life, religion