Towards the end of
2012 I was reading an article online about the interrelation between faith in
God and scientific knowledge on a particular issue. It was an interesting
enough piece. I didn’t agree with all of it but I appreciated that the
journalist did a decent job of representing different shades of opinion. Let’s
say it was fair. I saw that the article was open to comments so my curiosity
got the better of me and I decided to read on. Oh dear.
The litany of
patronising, insulting and often ill-informed comments was just wearisome
to read. And not only from the majority of contributors who were vocally antagonistic
towards God. The discussion also excited some grammatically challenged interest
from some honorary representatives from the Flat Earth Society and the League
of Angry Fundamentalists as well. There was descent into caricature from both
sides. It was Richard Dawkins meets the leader of Westboro Baptist Church. In
short, a troll’s playground.
This was not a
one-off though. It seems that every time I scrolled through the Have Your Say
or Comment is Free section on any Christianity-related BBC or
Guardian web posting, whether it be about a new space probe or the Archbishop
of Canterbury taking on payday lenders, I seemed to find the same angry tones and
shocking prejudices.
New York City based church leader Tim Keller recently summed
up well the increasingly strident intolerance of Christian faith in civic
society: “What we are being told is that you are beyond the pale, not just that
we’re wrong, but that respect for us is wrong... it’s not just that you’re
going to disagree with us, but basically you are saying we really don’t even
have a right to be in the public square.”
The duplication of
certain insults (I kept coming across flying spaghetti monsters, sky fairies
and imaginary friends) shows that there is a herd phenomenon in which people
are taking to throwing someone else’s rocks. It makes me sad.
It sometimes feels like certain corners of our culture reserve their deepest loathing and greatest ridicule for people like me who believe in the existence of God and the uniqueness of Christ, and who sometimes want to express or commend those views.
It sometimes feels like certain corners of our culture reserve their deepest loathing and greatest ridicule for people like me who believe in the existence of God and the uniqueness of Christ, and who sometimes want to express or commend those views.
There are so many poisonous
ideologies in our world. At the same time, I see so much good done in society
in the name of Christ. I understand of course that not everyone is going to
agree with Christians about a whole range of issues, but it’s the strength of
feeling, the message board spite, the anger, and the outrage against Christian
belief that bewilders me.
Anyway it made me
stop and think. Why do I believe in God? Specifically, why am I a Christian? What
if Christianity is like The Truman Show – an organised fantasy in which
I am an oblivious victim? What if the force for good I see and the spiritual feelings
I have are just a clever mirage? What if I do only follow the Bible’s
teaching because I am a weak person who is too lazy to think for himself? What
if I am just clinging to an infantile myth about eternal life because I am
scared of death or something? What if I, like a compliant child being good for
Santa, simply never really grew up?
I decided it might
be a useful exercise to jot down the reasons why I have found Christianity to
be believable, to be true. I came up with 26. I then tried to arrange the
different reasons in some kind of order.
Firstly, I thought
about the origins of the universe, its incredible fine tuning, the improbably life-favouring
properties of our planet and the appearance of life from non-living matter.
Each gives me some encouragement that my working hunch about the existence of a
creator might just be correct.
Then there are things
to do with the human condition and why there is so much unhappiness and suffering
in the world. Philosophers and theologians like Augustine and Aquinas and
Luther and Pascal have mused about these things for centuries. What people like
them have said helps me to appreciate the reasonableness and coherence of the
Judeo-Christian world view.
The heart of the
book is about Jesus. For some, he was an enigmatic and non-violent mystic who
said some quotable things; a cross between Mahatma Gandhi and Abraham Lincoln. For
others, he was one of many visionary revolutionaries who pushed his luck too
far and ended up in an early grave; a hybrid of John Lennon and Che Guevara
maybe. There are many other ideas out there about who he was. I think he is totally in a class of his own, deserving of not just
admiration but devotion as well.
Then I thought about why the Bible gives shape to Christian faith. I know some people hate the
Bible, many find it boring and others even reject it as immoral and repugnant. Some
of it puzzles me and, honestly, parts of it disturb me. But most of it
challenges me and shapes me. I treasure it above every other book. The Bible’s
remarkable unity, its unparalleled resilience and its amazing potency are among
the reasons I believe in its divine inspiration.
Then I explored other ideas, some of which I have gleaned from personal experience. These are
not just things I’ve mused about. They are mostly things I or others have personally
seen and felt.
And finally I tried to explain why I came to reject the three biggest
alternatives to being a Christian in today’s world (being an agnostic, an atheist
or belonging to some other religion).
In Part 1, I talk about why I believe Christianity is
true. Part 2 shows some of the ways that Christianity works. I am
very aware that most people in the Postmodern era don’t care if it’s true or
not. As has been said, most people will only start to become interested in
Christianity if they think it might help them have better sex. Otherwise,
forget it.
Typically we’re
told, outside the Church, people don’t know much about Christianity, don’t care
to find out, have little or no religious vocabulary, are more interested in
spirituality than religion, relate better to dialogue and conversation than
presentation, favour experience over knowledge and prefer visual not textual
communication.
Frankly that makes
this book a non-starter for a lot of people, I know that. Maybe I’ll write
another book someday looking at questions like ‘who am I?’, ‘how can I be happy?’, ‘what is
the spiritual realm?’, ‘how does the spiritual realm impact my life?’ And maybe even ‘how can I have better sex?’ That might be a first
for a Church of England vicar…
There are some
things I say which touch on this kind of theme but
finding answers to these questions were not why I became a Christian.
It occurred to
me that probably none of my 26 ideas on its own would absolutely convince me
that Christianity must be true. But together they build a case which
satisfies my curious mind and makes sense of my felt spiritual experience. Each
chapter is like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle; it’s only when it’s put together
that you can see the full picture and appreciate how all the pieces interlock
with the others.
The book first
appeared in a series of blog posts on this site, one every two weeks, throughout 2013.
Several people encouraged me to publish the series in book form which I was
reluctant to do for three reasons. Firstly, what’s the point? If you can access
the content for free online why pay for a printed version?
Secondly, the blog
carried important links to books, articles, and videos which due to the
length of the URLs would be cumbersome and unworkable in written form.
Thirdly,
there are many, many books on all this sort of thing available from people more
learned and eloquent than I am. In what I imagine to be a saturated (and pretty
small) market, I imagined I would labour in vain to find anyone interested in
publishing it.
But some of my
friends insisted that a physical book in the hand reaches some parts that new
media cannot reach. And extended footnotes or supplementary chapters can do the
work that web links do. And self-publishing avoids sending dozens of
manuscripts to publishers who take one look at the title and file a wad of A4
in the wastepaper bin.
I had to adapt
the content for book format and I made many minor revisions to
the original posts. If you are basically
sympathetic from the start I hope it will help you see that the faith you
instinctively feel has much to commend it. No, you’re not strange. It really
does make sense and hold together.
And if, as seems
unlikely, anyone reads it having decided already that faith is the preserve of
village idiots and dangerous sociopaths, I hope they will find evidence there
that, despite what you may read on social media, Christians do not believe in fairies
and unicorns or denounce as infidels those who do. Well, not many of us anyway.
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