How Can We Find Happiness?
How and How Not to Be Happy is an exercise in asking questions and reasoning through options for the source of happiness with the aim of explaining to a broad audience where true happiness can be found.
Read MoreA New Edition of Chesterton's Orthodoxy
If you haven’t read G. K. Chesterton, you should take the opportunity to do so.
He’s humorous, incisive, perceptive, witty, and a fierce defender of the Christian faith. Chesterton’s Everlasting Man is one of the volumes that contributed to the conversion of C. S. Lewis. Some find his contrariness and paradoxical thinking grating, but most sense the twinkle in the eye of a brilliant thinker who has been captured by a love of the truth.
Chesterton’s work is out of copyright, so I anticipate (if it hasn’t happened already) many cheap and barely readable versions of the text to pop up in online marketplaces. One of the challenges of reading old books in our age is finding a well-produced edition for a reasonable price.
B&H has produced a gorgeous printing of Orthodoxy, with an introduction, annotations, and guided reading from Trevin Wax. The annotations alone are worth the price of the book, because Chesterton drops many names of popular politicians, thinkers, and cultural fixtures without any context. It’s possible to get the general idea of the text without knowing who he is referring to, but the notes that Wax provides at the bottom of the page are very helpful. The guided reading is also useful for those who haven’t encountered Chesterton before, or who are unfamiliar with the conflict of Christianity and modernity. Chesterton is a very deep thinker, so the first trip through Orthodoxy can be tough slogging for the uninitiated. Wax scaffolds the content with a brief introduction to each chapter telling the reader what the gist is and what to look for; at the end of chapter there is a brief summary and some discussion questions. These are all helpful for engaging the book on its own terms.
Orthodoxy itself, of course, is a classic volume. There is a reason it has been in print for an extended period of time. This volume is a follow up to Chesterton’s book, Heretics, where he takes on Christianity’s modern critics directly, and often by name. However, some of those critics did not engage with Chesterton because, they said, he had not outlined his own position in the positive. They recognized that it is much easier to tear down opinions than it is to build them anew. Chesterton agreed and took them up on the challenge. The result was Orthodoxy.
Chesterton was, of course, a Roman Catholic, which shapes his approach to defending the faith. He also grossly misunderstood Calvinism—or at least, he has misrepresented every real version I have ever encountered in life or in print. And yet, Chesterton’s defense of Christianity from modernity is a defense that is appealing even for a low-church Baptist with Calvinistic tendencies. He makes the locus of his understanding of Christianity the Apostle’s Creed, which is a good place to start, if you ask me.
It’s challenging to sum up the contents simply, but it might be fair to say that, having looked at modernity’s answers to life’s most pressing questions, Chesterton is explaining why Christianity provides the best description for the world as it exists. He begins by showing the circularity of materialistic arguments for the world and the better answer he found in Christianity. The argument moves on from there. This isn’t a typical apologetics book, but trust me, it’s worth your while.
The latest edition of Orthodoxy from B&H is worth the money. It is a handsome edition and the notes add value rather than distracting from the quality of the text. If you haven’t read it at all, get some version of the book and pick it up. You’ll thank me later.
NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.
Featured
Doors in the Walls of the World - A Review
At some stage in their career, if they are any good, an author gets to the point where their work will be enough of a commercial success that they gain freedom from publishers to write books that a less well-known author would not be able to get in print. Peter Kreeft hit that status quite a while ago and the freedom he has found to experiment and explore is a wonderful thing. Whenever Kreeft publishes a book, buy it and read it.
Doors in the Walls of the World: Signs of Transcendence in the Human Story is the sort of volume that probably wouldn’t have gotten off the ground if Kreeft were less well-known, but it is just the sort of book that many people need at just this moment. This is a book that is much needed in this age of scientism and materialism. It is, fundamentally, an apologetic for a supernatural understanding of this world.
The introduction begins by considering several kinds of wonder. Wonder may be found in surprise. It may be found in intellectual exploration and curiosity. Wonder also results in awe. It is this third form of wonder that is the main grist of this book. This is a book about finding something beyond the world as we see it. It is about finding a door in the wall of the world, as the title indicates. This world is the material reality that we sense—the cave in Plato’s myth—and the doors in the cave wall are gateways to the supernatural reality that lies beyond.
Kreeft proceeds to show that life, in many ways, is a story. There is a Storyteller beyond the story. There is plot, setting, characters, theme, and style. These are, in plain English, history, physical science, psychology, religion and philosophy, and art. All of these are doors in the walls of the world, through which we can pass to wonder at the supernatural. They are clues to help us understand the transcendent.
Each of the chapters is a brief discussion on one of the five elements of story. Kreeft uses fictionalized illustrations, literary examples, and plain prose writing to make his case. His case is that there is something beyond the world that we can see and we would be foolish to think that the shadows on the cave walls are all there is.
Doors in the Walls of the World is the sort of book that does not dazzle with its purple prose or overwhelm with a logical argument. It is like a short film that carries a powerful message that is vitally important and, perhaps, couldn’t be told in another way. This is the sort of volume that should be read quickly, and maybe repeatedly, to be digested in wonder of the goodness of the hope it points toward. It’s a rest stop that refreshes with a surprising garden in the middle of a journey. This book is a testament to wonder and deserves to be read for those of us in a dry and weary cave who could use a little magic, mystery, and joy.
Featured
Knowledge and Christian Belief - A Review
Is being a Christian at all intellectually defensible?
To many Christians, this seems like an obvious answer. Especially those who have been taught to begin debates with an assertion, “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’”
That quote, which opens Psalm 14, is no doubt true. However, it is not helpful and often falls short of the mark. First, fool is a moral category in Scripture, not “doofus” or “idiot” as we might think in our own culture. Second, the logic doesn’t flow the way the Christian would like. A fool may say there is no God, but it does not follow that someone who says there is no God is a fool. At least, it does not follow by that statement alone.
Setting that digression aside, it is more apt to this discussion to note that there are many atheists and agnostics that would argue that it is foolish to believe in God, or at least to have any confidence that there is a God. Some have gone as far as to say that it is morally repugnant to believe in God. The arguments along those lines generally flow from the problem of evil, which was really aptly stated by Epicurus and oft repeated since then: If there is a God in the world and there is evil in the world, then that God must be evil, since an omniscient, omnipotent God (the sort of God that matters) would stop evil. It’s been a knotty problem for generations of Christian philosophers.
Unfortunately, some Christians do a pretty poor job of dealing with the problem of evil, especially those Christians equipped with a semester of philosophy.
Alvin Plantinga remains one of the foremost Christian philosophers. He was a winsome and potent advocate for orthodox Christianity and his arguments take on all challengers. His book, Knowledge and Christian Belief is an example of the quality of work he does and he makes his arguments accessible to well read individuals, who may not have extensive backgrounds in philosophy.
Plantinga’s style of argument is to take the strongest objections to his position, state them as strongly as possible, and then topple them like a house of cards.
This may sound like an exaggeration, but his succinct volume takes on some of the most significant defeaters to the Christian faith and demonstrates pretty clearly that not only is faith in Christ possible, it’s a good explanation for the world as it is.
One of the surprising ways that Plantinga makes this argument is to take on the challenge that Christians cannot have warranted belief for God. He states the objection about as well as it can be and then shows why the strength of those objections depends on the assumption the Christianity is false. In fact, if one does not make that assumption, then the better conclusion (especially given the sense of transcendence) is that Christianity is, more probably than not, true. (Absolute certainty in this logical sense is not the primary goal or a likely outcome of this sort of argument.)
At the end of the volume, Plantinga takes on the major challenges of historical biblical criticism, pluralism, and evil. The chapter on historical biblical criticism is worth the cost of the book, as Plantinga shows that neither of the two main approaches to historical biblical criticism offer much of a challenge to traditional Christianity, because the assumptions that underly the methodology are fundamentally foreign to the system it is challenging, and thus incapable of actually undermining the faith it intends to undermine. Plantinga concludes, “The traditional Christian can rest easy with the claims of HBC [Historical Biblical Criticism]; she need feel no obligation, intellectual or otherwise, to modify her belief in the light of its claims and alleged results.” (106)
The argumentation leading to that conclusion is tight. It is not the sort of gun-slinging, sloppy argumentation that sometimes occurs on YouTube. Despite the fact that Knowledge and Christian Belief is a somewhat simplified version of a more academic work, the argument still requires great care in reading to follow it accurately. But the end result is an encouragement to believe Christianity as it has been passed on, without modification, and without a sense of intellectual inferiority.
There is no compromise intellectually in being a Christian, as Plantinga shows.
If there was a way to dial this down just a little more, this would be an amazing book to put into the hands of a high school senior, ready to head out in the world. As it is, a careful parent or friend with a little rereading could work through this slowly and patiently with a teen and give them a gift of confidence. Even if one cannot articulate everything that Plantinga argues, it is reassuring to know that the argument can be made.
Knowledge and Christian Belief is a short book, but it is a good one, especially for those seeking greater confidence in the basic truthfulness of Christianity. Alvin Plantinga makes a convincing case that one stands on solid ground when one holds to the faith once for all delivered to the saints.
Featured
The End of Our Exploring - A Review
If what I see on social media is to be believed, all the cool kids are deconstructing the faith of their childhood. It’s all the rage, but it’s not really a new thing.
For some, kissing dating goodbye was a traumatic experience, though for many of the most vocal critics, I suspect Josh Harris’s book provided a solution to a problem they only wish they had. Nevertheless, the experience turned too much for Harris’s faith, as he has recently abandoned Christianity and begun selling “deconstruction kits” along with a series of webinars for $275.
Other deconstruction workers are less entrepreneurial, but there is a steady stream of people who were once overt, professional Christians who have transitioned to making money off of deconverting and encouraging other people to do the same.
One response to the deconstruction/deconversion movement is to provide answers to the cultural defeaters of the day. Standard apologetics books like Lee Strobel’s Case for Christ or Josh McDowell’s More than a Carpenter provide helpful aids to those with general struggles regarding particular questions about Christianity. Other books like Tim Keller’s The Reason for God and Making Sense of God tend to focus on bigger picture problems and defeaters. Recently books like Alisa Childers’s Another Gospel? tell the story of starting down the path of deconstruction and ending back a Jesus. These assume that someone is either outside of Christianity looking in or already down the road of deconversion and need pulling back. It is a helpful approach for many.
But what about those that stand on the fuzzy border between faith and doubt and wonder which way to turn?
Matthew Lee Anderson’s 2013 book, The End of Our Exploring: A Book About Questioning and the Confidence of Faith, provides a helpful resource for those with questions or who want to create a space for legitimate questions within the faith community.
Anderson is a pastor’s kid who was (by his own confession) the insufferable know-it-all who was too cocksure to ask good questions or hear good answers. He has come a long way, and this book can help readers make significant progress without some of the awkward relationships.
The book begins by exploring the nature of questioning, identifying that many questions are not good questions because they presuppose an answer. They key message is that good questions can be helpful as we seek to recalibrate our faith—knocking off the pieces inconsistent with Scripture and keeping the parts that fit with an integrated biblical understanding––but most people are not well-equipped to ask good questions.
Anderson goes on to note that our information economy that values data rather than wisdom contributes to shallowness of discourse. So does the shallowness with which much of the Christian community in the West actually holds their Christian convictions. The result is that young people often either fail to ask good questions or encounter hostility when questions are asked.
Questioning is viewed as dangerous in some churches because too few people know the answers. In some churches, questioning is taboo because it leads to the uncovering of inconsistencies between faith and practice. Sometimes questioning is unwelcome because the people being questioned have the same questions, fear they are wrong, but are clinging to faith in the face of that prospect.
Some see questioning as an act of faithlessness, but Anderson shows how good questioning can be a catalyst for a deeper faith, because there are valid answers to the hardest questions that can be tossed at Christianity. The End of Our Exploring explains why that is so and also helps the reader begin to formulate better questions.
As a parent of children who “know all the answers” because we have spent a lot of time on discipleship, I find Anderson’s faithful but open approach to questioning helpful. This is a book that I will have my children read toward the end of high school. Sometimes it is frightening that my kids have the ready answers to theological questions. I worry that they have borrowed my authority, as it were, because they have seen me teach through an abbreviated systematic theology, several books of the Bible, and other topical lessons. They know that I have read the books and explored the questions, but it is important that they do some of their own exploring, too.
The way that Anderson encourages exploring is critical to the outcome achieved. The nature of this exploring is clear from the title of the book, which comes from a T. S. Eliot poem:
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
That perspective marks the fundamental difference between faithful questioning and deconstructing. When people deconstruct they are seeking to tear down because they’ve already decided the thing is wrong. Anderson’s questioning and exploring is an attempt to know the truth better. It does not presuppose the truth, as if the conclusion is foregone and the exploration is simply a sowing of wild oats, but it does not begin from a posture of skepticism and caustic disbelief.
The End of Our Exploring is a warm, personal book. It is thoughtful, rigorous, and challenging. Above all, it is helpful as I continue my exploring and seek to point other explorers toward a deeper understanding of truth.
Featured
An Apologetics Book for Teens
Rebecca McLaughlin’s recent book, 10 Questions Every Teen Should Ask (and Answer) about Christianity, is the sort of volume that deserves to be put into the hands of many young Christians and soon.
McLaughlin is riffing on her first book, Confronting Christianity, which poses a slightly different set of questions for an older audience. But this new book is pitched at young people who are being flooded with more questions than answers about the historic Christian faith.
In a world that is rewarding deconstruction of the faith and rejection of Christian orthodoxy and orthopraxy, McLaughlin stands firm in her belief that Christianity has good answers to any culture’s questions and tackles some of the big-ticket challenges of the modern age. She explains that Christianity has demonstrable health benefits, that it is (contrary to popular myth) the most diverse religious movement in history. She argues that Christianity does indeed require rejecting relativism and that evangelism is demanded, but that should be recognized as a good thing. McLaughlin goes on to wrestle with morality apart from God, exploring the ways that modern conceptions of “good” are often derived from Christian ideals. Then she provides arguments for the reliability of Scripture and follows that by making the case that science has not, as commonly thought, disproved Christianity. So far these are just standard apologetic arguments. In the next two chapters, McLaughlin goes on to make the case for natural marriage and for a historic understanding of human sex. In both chapters she acknowledges the difficulty of same-sex attraction (as a same-sex attracted woman who is married to a man) and intersex individuals. This is no table-pounding denial of the complexity or emotional difficulty of the present issues, but is a compassionate wrestling with sexual ethics and the witness of Scripture. McLaughlin remains faithful to orthodox Christianity, but presents it in terms that are less repugnant than its opponents often make it. The book concludes with chapters on the problem of pain (or evil) and the defensibility of eternal judgment and reward.
There is little innovative about the content McLaughlin presents, but this little volume presents important, challenging information in a winsome way. The book is written openly and honestly without being condescending. The hard questions culture is asking are acknowledged. The fact that Christianity stands in stark contrast to the prevailing notions of the day is recognized. The goodness of the enduring truth of the gospel remains central and a deep concern for maintaining the faith once and for all delivered to the saints is revealed. McLaughlin makes the case that being true to Christianity is worth it.
The usefulness of this book is that McLaughlin has transposed important apologetic arguments from the halls of the atheist/Christian debates and put it in language and terms that are absorbable for the average teen. McLaughlin uses illustrations from Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and a variety of Disney animated movies. She does this as someone who has obviously watched and enjoyed them, so they don’t come across as misplaced tinsel, but actually support the content of the book. This is a book that reads well without sacrificing the quality of the arguments.
10 Questions Every Teen Should Ask (and Answer) about Christianity does not answer every question as fully as it could be, but it provides good arguments against common cultural defeaters that can help Christian teens feel confidence in their beliefs and help curious teens understand that there is more to the historic Christian faith than the cardboard cutouts that are often depicted in popular media.
Some parents might question why this book is for teens and not for those younger. Depending on the social situation and reading level of a given child, this may be an appropriate book for those at 10 and 11 years old. It’s not a difficult read, but it isn’t lightweight either. And the book wrestles with sexual topics (discreetly) that some parents may not feel appropriate, especially for younger children. Given the age that public schools are presenting their sexual content, this will certainly be mild for many children. For parents with questions, I would recommend previewing the content (an intro chapter by the author provides some insight), but this is best suited for teens.
In any case, this is a book that deserves to be distributed widely. Youth pastors should stock the volume as a resource. Parents should sneak it on their child’s shelf or backpack. Pastors should have a few copies available to help those wrestling with hard questions. This is the sort of book that would be even better when a faithful adult reads it along side a teen who is being asked and perhaps asking some of these difficult questions. It is unlikely to get easier to be a faithful Christian, but this volume at least explains why it is reasonable and worthwhile to hold fast to the faith.
Featured
Another Gospel? - A Review
Deconstruction. All the cool kids are doing it these days. Former evangelicals, embarrassed by Trumpism, tired of harassment over adherence to Christian sexual ethics, and often ill-informed about the basis of historic Christianity are becoming “Exvangelicals” and turning on their earlier beliefs. In essence, Christianity is experiencing a new divide between orthodoxy and progressivism.
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries the fight was between fundamentalists and liberals. Fundamentalists gathered around the five fundamentals of the faith: Biblical inspiration and truthfulness of Scripture; the virginal conception of Jesus; the substitutionary atonement of Christ; Christ’s bodily resurrection; and the historicity of Christ’s miracles. Liberals either rejected these or were not concerned with their truthfulness, because they were deemed accessories to true Christianity, which could be jettisoned as irrelevant in the face of modern naturalism.
Fundamentalists later divided between evangelicals and fundamentalists, whose theology is generally compatible, but who have different understandings of the degree of theological agreement necessary to cooperate. The current focus on revisionists is less on a rejection of miracles, since supernaturalism is no longer a cultural pinch point, and more on sexual ethics and other issues that have cultural controversies associated with them. Add onto that the brutal nastiness of political wrangling by those who have concluded that doctrinal orthodoxy requires vocal support for Trump and his policies which have been accompanied by ongoing revelations of sexual abuse among evangelical institutions.
There is certainly a great deal of room for criticism of evangelicals and their institutions. But it need not follow that criticism of abuses of power should result in abandonment of the historic Christian faith. That is what is happening with the growing “Exvangelical” movement, which is simply a form of progressive Christianity.
Alisa Childers aims to confront the growing progressive Christian movement in her book, Another Gospel? A Lifelong Christian Seeks Truth in Response to Progressive Christianity.
Progressive Christianity is difficult to define, as Childers discovers when she opens here book. She writes, “Progressive Christians tend to avoid absolutes and are typically not united around creeds or belief statements. . . Because of this, it might be more helpful to look for certain signs, moods, and attitudes toward God and the Bible when trying to spot it. For example, progressive Christians view the Bible as primarily a human book and emphasize personal conscience and practices rather than certainty and beliefs. They are also very open to redefining, reinterpreting, or even rejecting essential doctrines of the faith like the Virgin Birth, the deity of Jesus, and his bodily resurrection.” As Childers initially describes the movement, it sounds a great deal like the modern liberalism of the last century, but throughout the book it becomes clear that she understands the movement to be in some ways different. Progressive Christianity tends to be less overtly distinct from historic Christianity at the creedal level; the differences tend to be in ethics and the theology that underlies it.
In response to the redefinitions and abandonment of the ancient Christian faith by progressive Christians, Childers responds by pointing people toward “historic Christianity.” She doesn’t perfectly define this term either, but she describes it as a faith “deeply rooted in history. In fact, it is the only religious system I can think of that depends on a historical event (the resurrection of Jesus) being real—not fake—news.” She goes on to summarize her faith as understanding that, “The Bible is [God’s] Word, or it’s not. Jesus was raised from the dead, or he wasn’t. Christianity is true, or it isn’t. There is no ‘my truth’ when it comes to God.” What she defends through the book is the faith “once and for all delivered to the saints,” with the truthfulness of Scripture at the core and the necessary conclusions drawn from that about the nature of God, the importance of the cross, and the goodness of pursuing holiness as it is described in Scripture.
Another Gospel? is framed around Childers’ experience with a pastor who was losing his faith and brought together a group to try to deconstruct the Christian faith together. She describes how her Christian faith collided with that group, her faith was nearly shipwrecked, but by asking honest questions and seeking honest answers she was able to reconstruct her faith in a more robust and biblical way.
This book is interspersed with personal narrative, but it also covers some of the basic apologetic topics: the authority of Scripture, basic epistemology, the possibility of reliable texts of Scripture, the reality (and reasonableness) of hell, the atonement as child abuse, and some other challenges. This is a popular level book, so there are few new arguments here, and those seeking exhaustive discussions of any topic are going to be disappointed. However, what Childers covers is well-done. She honestly represents challenging questions to Christianity and answers them faithfully.
One challenge that this book will face is that Childers uses the category “Progressive Christian.” In the online world, especially among progressive Christians, one of the greatest sins is using categories (for them) because it “dehumanizes.” Also, since progressive Christianity is an attitude rather than a position, there will be some who are closer or farther from her definition (sometimes based on the day of the week, it seems). At the end of the day, though, Childers is not seeking to attack the beliefs of progressive Christians as much as she is trying to argue for the superiority of historic Christianity. This book does that well.
I commend this book highly for those who are questioning their faith and wondering if there are really answers to cultural challenges. Childers answers as someone who has carefully considered the arguments and come out more convinced of the gospel she learned as a young girl. This would be a good book to read with a youth group, for pastors to have on hand to distribute to those honestly seeking answers, and to put in the church library.
Featured
Can Science Explain Everything? - A Review
Can science explain everything?
Most people would answer that question reflexively, but there is likely to be a divided response.
John Lennox, longtime apologist for Christianity and emeritus professor of Mathematics, argues that science cannot explain everything. His little book from The Good Book company, Can Science Explain Everything?, is a concise explanation of his response.
To some, the question itself might seem absurd, but one of the prevailing worldviews of the 21st century is scientism. We see this when people tell us to “follow the Science” or that “Science tells us” or some other trick of speech that assumes that there is a univocal authority in Science (it must be capitalized) that can shortcut any moral or practical concerns. Scientism is the belief that empirical scientific inquiry can answer any question and provide a consistent correct answer.
The question is significant because much of our cultural conversation seems to assume that science either knows everything or that it can know everything if we only ask the right questions and properly fund the research. There are huge ethical problems created by scientism, but there are more practical ones as well.
Scientism presumes that religion is either irrelevant to meaningful knowledge and thus useless for life or directly opposed to reason. This is the view of atheists like Richard Dawkins, but it is also a garden variety myth often used to marginalize Christians. Lennox topples scientism as a presupposition of reality and shows that while science is important, it is lacks sufficient structure to answer some of life’s most important questions.
Lennox opens his book arguing that being a scientist does not preclude belief in God. As a retired professor of mathematics, he has good reason to know this. But he also shares with us the account of his academic superiors attempting to shame him into rejecting Christianity. Lennox then moves on to a discussion of the shift in culture from faithful scientists seeking rational explanation for natural phenomenon because of their faith in God to some more contemporary scientists who seek to use their scientific findings to argue against the existence of God.
The substance of the argument of the book is that both religion and science are dependent upon reason, but they are often geared to ask different questions. Science tends to ask “What?” and “How?” while some sort of philosophical thought, including religion, is necessary to come to an answer about “Why?” The “Why?” in this case refers not to the process, but to purpose. Science can not answer questions of purpose.
Lennox also argues that there is no reason not to take the Bible seriously, despite the apparent power of science to explain all natural phenomena and exclude any supernatural events. He even argues that there is no reason to reject miracles. The miracles recorded in Scripture, like the resurrection of Jesus, are matters of history rather than of philosophy or science.
The whole book has an apologetic edge. Lennox is making a case that Christianity is credible. The book begins focused on the question of science, but turns during the discussion of miracles toward other objections to Christianity, for example, Lennox briefly discusses the problem of evil. After that point, he examines the trustworthiness of the text of Scripture we have as a way of explaining why the resurrection miracle has a historical basis. He then provides a chapter explaining that for the skeptic to falsify Christianity—that is, to prove that Christianity is not true, he needs to disprove the resurrection. Lennox shows that Christianity is falsifiable, but also makes the case that the account in the Bible of Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection plausible and, indeed, even probable as the most credible explanation. Lennox closes the book by explaining how one can be a Christian and why it is important that skeptics and Christians test the faith honestly, seeking answers to doubts without perpetuating them indefinitely.
This is both a good book and a limited book. It is a worthy tool for the right applications, but is not the right instrument for every job.
Can Science Explain Everything? is an introductory level text. It is written at a level that an advanced junior high student could follow the argument. It is most suitable for those with more advanced reasoning skills—curious high schoolers, college students, or congregants who have come up against exclusive claims of scientism and are asking good questions about the faith. The book would also be helpful as an evangelistic tract for an open-minded skeptic who is honest about seeking answer to her questions. It will also be helpful for Christian students asking whether a skeptical teacher really has all the answers.
On the other hand, this is a book that is likely to meet resistance and ridicule by more hardened atheists because Lennox made the necessary tradeoffs between concision and completeness. In a book of 125 pages it is impossible to explore every contour of these important questions. This will lead more antagonist people to find the intentionally basic explanations Lennox offers unconvincing. This is not due to an inherent deficiency in the book, but a recognition of its purpose. Lennox has provided more substantial refutations of scientism in his book God’s Undertaker: Has Science Buried God?
This is a good, useful book. Don’t ask more of it than it is prepared to give, but it would be a handy resource for a youth pastor or church bookshelf to answer some of this culture’s most pressing challenges.
Featured
Why We Need Religion - A Review
Some atheists move beyond their objections to religion to a form of frothy mouthed rage that anyone dare believe in something beyond what can be measured, analyzed, and peer reviewed. Famously, Richard Dawkins has asserted that parents teaching their children Christian doctrine is a form of child abuse. And, of course, there are meanspirited gadflies like those in the Freedom From Religion organization who like to attack people engaged in public service for having faith that is not hidden from view. Such antipathy is not universal. Some atheists are more benign. However, there is enough anti-religious emotion among the supposed rationalists that the militant fundamentalist accusations about an “atheist agenda,” etc., etc., are not entirely unfounded (just overblown).
In contrast to such overt hostility, Stephen T. Asma, professor of Philosophy at Columbia College, Chicago, and confirmed atheist, has written a book to argue that maybe religion isn’t quite so bad and doesn’t deserve violent eradication just yet. Accordingly, he offers an intriguing purpose in his recent volume, Why We Need Religion. He writes, “I will endeavor a charitable interpretation of the believer and religion, one that couches such conviction in the universal emotional life that connects us all.” (14)
Summary
The general point of Asma’s book is that scientism is best, but religion helps people feel good, so it should be tolerated by those who know better. While ensuring the reader never doubts his atheistic bona fides, Asma sorts through sociological data that he argues point to the necessity of some form of religion as a “cultural analgesic.”
Asma finds multiple benefits of religion, which he argues are reasons that society should not seek to destroy religion and ridicule believers. In chapter length treatments, Asma argues that religion in general, especially those with a belief in an afterlife, help people navigate sorrow due to death and even personal fear of death. Such myths keep some people from despair, so there is no reason not to allow that beneficial belief.
For some, religion enables the ability to forgive. The belief that there will be justice meted out gives people resources not to seek immediate, personal vengeance. Similarly, a belief in a higher power can help people have mental strength leading to internal peace, resilience, and the ability to sacrifice for others.
Religion also enables people to find communal joy, to channel sexual energy, and engage in forms of imaginative play. These aspects of religion, according to Asma, have evolved in ways that differentiate us from some of the lower animals and help us get by as a society. At other points, religion proves useful in helping people control their fear and anger.
Analysis
Given his assumptions, the argument is reasonable throughout, but the general point is that religion—at least some level of religion—is acceptable because it has socially and evolutionarily beneficial fruit. Thus, even if it is not actively encouraged, certain types of religion should be deemed acceptable, as long as it sufficiently agrees with the moral consensus of society and encourages behaviors approved by enough people. For example, religion that fosters contemporary forms of functional egalitarianism, pursuit of approved economic and social outcomes, and controls unsocial emotional outbursts should be accepted.
At a most basic level, it is nice to have an atheist write something that does not curse every believer for their foolishness and vehemently denigrate their existence for not aligning their faith commitments to those of radical empiricism. Asma’s book shows that the conversation between religion and radical empiricism need not be an out and out street fight at all times, especially if one accepts a version of religion that is palatable for skeptics.
Ironically, though he is an atheist, Asma makes many of the same arguments for religion in general that some versions of Christianity (the religion with which I am most familiar) make. Religion can help you live your best life now. Believing can make you a better citizen. Your kids won’t misbehave as much if you keep them in church. You can have inner peace if you will just believe. There’s no need to fear death if you’ll just pray this prayer. The list can go on and on. This observation shows the paucity of much teaching among Christians of varying stripes. I have heard similar pitches presented as “evangelism” before, and sometimes they succeed in getting people to participate in activities with Christians for a while. There is a pointed lesson here, for those whose faith would be acceptable to an atheist.
The acceptable religion Asma hopes for is the one that nods toward doing good deeds from time to time, talks about miracles as fiction that points to a higher moral, and moves aside traditional doctrines that interfere with the current popular polls. In Christian circles, Asma’s preferred forms of religion align very well with the stated doctrines of many mainline Protestant denominations and lived faith of many Evangelical and Roman Catholic adherents. Lukewarm is the hottest the faucet should go, lest it lead to a failure to go with the flow. Coexist bumper stickers are the main sign of approved faith, rather than rosaries, crucifixes, or fish stickers. Bland is the religion that is properly admissible by the Zeitgeist.
Asma’s arguments also reveal there is no point at which the attempt of liberal Christianity to create a truly minimalist faith will ever really be acceptable in society. As the moral winds shift and the polling changes, there will always be a new doctrine considered anti-social and require abandonment. Whatever vestiges of truth and odor of gospel efficacy is left in an acceptable version of Christianity won’t have much power to save, if any at all in a few years. In other words, Asma reveals that seeking praise from atheists isn’t a worthy endeavor because nothing but utter capitulation will ever be applauded, so those who claim to be orthodox and faithful should focus on doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God as we believe and proclaim a rigorous, full-throated, gospel-saturated doctrine.
For faithful, orthodox Christian readers, the best use of this book is to see in it an affirmation of some of the things that we know to be true, though Asma denies the basis. Faith in Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit can help make us better citizens, to the degree that society maintains a true sense of the common good. Basically, Asma is arguing that we aren’t (always) the moral equivalent of child abusers and sometimes actually do good things, which is better than the alternative.
In the end, this is a book that was not written to people who really believe what they claim to believe, whether they are Christian, Mormon, Buddhist, or whatever. This is a book that, despite claiming to offer an olive branch, oozes condescension on nearly every page. It’s a patronizing pat on the head from the person who pretended to listen while you speak to them and then lets you know he was ignoring everything you said by his smug smile and dismissive comment. Most probably, though, the target audience for this book is not people who actually believe and practice their faith, it is the mushy middle and the militant atheist.
One possible positive outcome is that some from the mushy middle may encounter the gospel if they wander into a faithful Christian church on some Sunday morning to find the inner peace Asma highlights; may Asma’s work bear such fruit.
On the other hand, this is a book that may be helpful if it has the socially beneficial result of tempering the fundamentalist zealotry of a few atheists. On that basis, I think that it makes a valuable contribution to the conversation of the relationship between religion and society.
NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.
Featured
The Morals of the Story - A Review
The focus of apologetics as it is presented in evangelical contexts tends to be on evidential arguments like the historicity of the Bible and the credibility of the resurrection of Christ. These sorts of arguments are helpful when someone finds themselves somewhat attracted to Christianity but incredulous to its supernatural claims. Such apologetic arguments are important, but a different approach is warranted in a culture that no longer views Christianity as plausible.
The recent book, The Morals of the Story: Good News About a Good God, presents a traditional but less common apologetic approach designed to demonstrate the plausibility of Christianity. The argument of this volume is abductive—that is, the Baggetts make the case that the Christian God is the best explanation for the moral consistency of the world and the latent human awareness of moral demands. This approach, known as moral apologetics, essentially points to our shared sense of morality and expectation of justice and argues Christianity offers the best hope of making sense of it.
The book is intriguing, not least because it was written by a husband and wife team. David Baggett is professor of philosophy at Liberty University. Marybeth Baggett is a professor of English at Liberty University. Their combined expertise helps make this a philosophically sound volume rich with literary illustrations that augment the basic argument that humans have a latent sense of the moral that needs explaining.
In a literary twist, the Baggetts constructed the book in three acts. The first act introduces the basic outline of moral apologetic arguments and the history of moral apologetics as a valid approach. Between the first and second act, there is an excursus, which the Baggetts call an intermission, that deals with the Euthyphro dilemma in technical detail. In some sense, the handling of resolution of that famous philosophic dilemma (or trilemma) is the ground on which all moral apologetics—indeed, a robust Christian ethics—is founded.
Act two engages arguments for and against a moral apologetic on the topics of goodness, obligations, knowledge, transformation, and providence. These are common points of friction between moral apologists and their critics. Act three functions as a thrilling conclusion, wherein the Baggetts tie their arguments together to present one brief, cogent case. The book closes with two brief recaps, which the Baggetts call an encore and curtain call.
The Morals of the Story is an important volume in our time because of the shift of the main points of contention against Christianity. No longer is it sufficient to establish basic facts—the resurrection, the possibility of miracles, the historicity of the narrative accounts—we are in an era where the plausibility of a source of moral authority outside of ourselves is not a shared assumption. It is exactly this barrier that moral apologetics seeks to break down. The Baggetts have presented a clear case, which does not prove conclusively (by their own admission) the reality of the Triune God, but it makes a strong case that the common experience of a moral conscience among all humans points to a central reality and source of moral authority beyond humans, which they hold to be the God of Christianity.
There are various points at which many readers will disagree with the Baggetts, but the book is constructed in a manner that disagreement at points does not undermine the integrity of the overall arguments. With few and minor exceptions, the Baggetts have argued cautiously, which makes their case worth engaging even if it the reader does not fully agree by the end of the volume. The Baggetts acknowledge the room for disagreement with their argument, which makes the whole of the case more convincing and the reader-author debate much more congenial throughout.
This book is written at a level that anticipates some familiarity with basic philosophical arguments. The Morals of the Story would be useful in an upper level undergraduate course or in graduate studies, or for individuals with some background in philosophy. For that audience, it is an entertaining read with a mix of humor, anecdote, and illustration. The text is seamlessly edited so it is not evident if there were different authors for different chapters, though the richness of the literary references would seem to reveal the handiwork of Marybeth Baggett, with her background in English literature. This is a solid and enjoyable team effort.
The Morals of the Story represents a significant and winsome entry in the field of apologetic literature. This book should prove useful for years to come in equipping the Church to engage a sometimes apathetic world with the truth of the gospel and the reality of a morally consistent, holy God.
Note: I received a gratis copy of this book from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.
Featured
The way we talk about humans also has moral implications, which are more significant than how we treat our pets. In his 2011 book, Less than Human: Why We Demean, Enslave, and Exterminate Others, David Livingstone Smith explores how language changes culture and leads to the justification of extreme violence against others, especially when they become perceived as less than human.