In a previous post I wrote about the importance of a Christian having sound reason behind faith; I urged that we be ready to defend our faith to those who would question it. This is true, certainly--one must never be caught “blindly believing” in anything--but it raises further questions yet.
I previously asked how one ought to respond to a question such as,
“Why are you a Christian?”
Certainly one ought to have an answer, but then comes the question
of how to respond? In what tone and with what purpose?
There is one area where I think Christian apologetics often has it very wrong--and that is in the the notion that to “apologize” for something
(such as a belief) means to offer a defense. To be an apologist, it
seems, might be comparable to allow oneself to be put perpetually on a witness stand and cross-examined like
a common criminal.
To be fair, this is certainly very close to what apologetics is
(the word apologia, quite literally, means “defense”), but I think there
are nuances to the concept that mean all the difference in the world. More accurately,
especially when it comes to Christianity, an apology is not meant to offer a
defense, but to lay a groundwork upon which faith may rest. More importantly,
it should not be focused inward, on the Christian who answers, but outward,
toward the skeptic who asks.
It is said time and again by Christians (and by me, particularly),
that we need always to be ready with a defense of our faith. The idea is
appropriated from 1 Peter 3:15: “...always being prepared to make a defense to anyone
who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you…” The translation may be
accurate, but the idea is wrapped up, not in that one word--”defense”--but in
the larger context. We are told to be prepared with an answer when someone asks
for a reason for our hope. But here is the key: if someone is asking for a
reason for our hope, we are not put in a defensive position. They are
not asking about our sins or about our faults, but about our hope. They
are asking about something that they desire for themselves! Our answer, therefore, is
not defensive; our opponent has not dealt a blow, but has rather opened up
their own defenses, and it is we who must strike!
This truth that is overshadowed by the word “defense” is that,
truly, Christianity ought never be on the defensive. Christianity is really
only effective when it is on the offensive; when it is eagerly and avidly moving forward. When it attempts a defensive
posture, struggling to answer every foolish question and explain away every
faulty premise devised by the logic of the world, it becomes gangly and awkward
and truly difficult to manage.
When one is on the defensive, it means that he is being accused of
something for which he ought to feel some shame. But Christianity is offering,
not something shameful, but hope! It is offering grace and truth! Are these really
things that need to be defended? Does a child have to be convinced to be
excited about Christmas morning? Do the parents need to defend their decision
to shower him with gifts? Of course not; the child, being wiser than many
elderly skeptics, knows that a good thing may be either believed or
disbelieved, but it need not be defended. Likewise, does the winner of the
lottery have to be persuaded by the lottery commission to accept the prize?
Of course not; there is no hemming and hawing by the winner over whether
or not this newfound wealth is really “right”. No time is taken for thinking or
contemplating over whether or not the contest ever existed in the first place.
The award is seen as good; it is simply claimed and spent. As Christians we
often forget that this ought to hold true, as well, for a gift that is far
greater than any lottery! Our posture should be that of conquerors who hold the
secret that the world continually seeks! We have the answer, and we offer it
freely to all--and yet, the world somehow succeeds, time and again, in putting
us on the defensive.
When one responds to, “Why are you a Christian?” with a steady and
rehearsed bundle of facts, it is a defensive response; it is the feeling that
we are being told that we have done something wrong and feel, as a child being
accused by a parent of breaking something valuable, as if we must explain
ourselves for our own sake. But that is not how it ought to be.
Our response to “Why are you a Christian?” really has nothing to do with
us. It has everything to do with the one who asks the question. We are
answering, not for our own sake (for that would be defensive), but for theirs!
Jesus, it should be remembered, was never--not once--put on the
defensive, though he was attacked at every turn. Though he was asked to explain
himself on every controversy. Here, in the gospels, we see a true master of
apologetics in action: one who knew that an attack was not an opportunity to
defend oneself, but to parry and strike. No wonder so many of His attackers
left the encounter sulking in bitterness and anger, for their attempts had
failed to elicit so much as hesitation, and instead forced them to question
their own assumptions. When asked about the ethics of paying taxes, Christ did
not turn to scriptures in order to offer up some complex theological or
political response; he merely asked, “Whose picture is on the coin?” and so
demonstrated the foolishness of the initial question.
If He had been asked, “Why are you a Christian?” how might Jesus
have answered (setting aside, for a moment, the absurdity of asking this of He
who put the “Christ” in Christian)? I cannot imagine Jesus attempting an answer
founded on science, logic, or theology. I doubt that he would have attempted to
bait his questioners into some philosophical trap. He would not have felt the
need to defend himself--for He would know that the question was not being asked
for His sake. I am convinced that He would have answered with a question of His
own--perhaps something as simple as, “Why do you reject Christianity?” For the
question may have been asked in order to force a defense; but it is really the
questioner who ought to be put on the stand, to defend their refusal--for
indeed one ought to have an answer for why they have refused such a gift--and
Jesus would have seen this as an opportunity to strike.
Love it. It's been a while since we discussed such matters, I'm wondering who you would consider key Apologetic influences on your thought.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I agree about 1 Peter 3:15. Far too often we approach Apologetics as though the questioner is the judge and/or jury, when in reality on the weight of revelation (Psalm 19 et al) and their truth suppression (Romans 1:18) they are the defendant. Well said above.
Nick
Thanks Nick!
DeleteAs far as my key apologetic influences... that's a really good question, and as soon as I read it I decided that I needed to do a series of blogs on the men who've inspired me most. In short, though, my biggest influences are certainly G.K. Chesterton, Malcolm Muggeridge, C.S. Lewis, Soren Kierkegaard, and then a miscellaneous bunch of others. Of these, though, I think I'd probably put Muggeridge first in terms of overall influence over my thought process, which is ironic, as he would never have considered himself an apologist. He just wrote about his own experiences, which is more powerful than any systematic apologetic. Chesterton, on the other hand, is the primary influence of my actual writing; his ability to find evidence of God in the most mundane thing is without equal.