
Rebuilding Christendom and the Consideration of the Alternative
As we slowly, but I trust surely, rebuild Christendom, i.e., push back and defeat secularism, Christians and the church in general need to rebuild the Christian plausibility structures of Western society. I recently wrote about the role Jordan Peterson is playing in doing just that. Few of us have the kind of platform Peterson does and can make such a sizable contribution, but each one of us has our own sphere of influence, and every piece of the plausibility puzzle matters, even the smallest piece. What exactly, you may ask, is a plausibility structure, and why is it so important? Good questions.
The term was coined by sociologist Peter Berger in his books, The Social Construction of Realty (with Thomas Luckman) and The Sacred Canopy. As a sociological construct (i.e., what it means to live with and among human beings and the culture and meanings they create), it simply means what seems true to us, and the social structures that contribute to that seeming. A simple example is that for many of our neighbors, God seems no more real than Santa Clause Whether God is real is not the point; what seems real is.
Society creates the plausibility structures that contribute to God and Christianity being plausible to us, or not. These structures are built into our educational systems, media, entertainment, etc. In the West, God is persona non‑grata, unwelcome; if he exists at all he is merely a personal preference. We call this secularism, and our job is to discredit the secular plausibility structures, and put Christian ones in their place. God has been providentially ordering this to happen since, as I argue in my latest book, Trump came down the escalator in 2015, but this started happening before Trump. One could date it to the election of Barack Obama and the takeover of the Democrat Party by the woke left. With him, the media went all in with Fake News, and the security apparatus of the deep state, and its bureaucratic minions became tools in the hands of the party. The reactions of the Tea Party were the rumblings of the awakening, but they were stillborn because those patriots were a threat to Uniparty globalist establishment in power, Democrat and Republican.
As I also argue in the book, secularism is an experiment in society without God in Western culture, and it has failed, miserably. It has nowhere to go. And as nature abhors a vacuum, something must fill the plausibility hole left in its wake. That would be Christianity. What Trump, or the reaction to Trump, exposed was how brittle a veneer secularism is to hold a society together in a post-Christian world. Thus the opportunity and need to re-Christianize the culture.
This rebuilding and tearing down of plausibility structures must first, of course, start with us, then our families, then out from there (my first book, The Persuasive Christian Parent, is how I did that with my children) . This means we have to know not only what we believe, but why we believe it. The latter is what we call apologetics, the defense of the Christian faith. The word and the charge to do this comes from I Peter 3:15:
But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.
The word for “answer” in Greek is apologia, which means a reasoned argument or defense that presents evidence supplied as compelling proof. Ancient Greek lawyers used apologia when defending a client in court. I wonder how many Christians are actually “prepared” to give an answer as to why they believe Christianity is the truth. I’m afraid it is not very many, but that is why we ourselves need to become prepared, and to encourage others to as well. You are now officially encouraged!
The Consideration of the Alternative
Thus we come to the purpose for this piece, the consideration of the alternative, probably my favorite apologetics tool. I realized how powerful it is using it on myself over the years as I dealt with the inevitable doubt that comes from faith. I’ll get more into faith later as I flesh out that concept, but there were times in my four plus decade Christian journey when Christianity didn’t seem so plausible to me. Over time I began to realize an inevitable conclusion that comes from doubt: if one thing isn’t true, something else has to be. First for the concept. Tim Keller in The Reason for God points out something so obvious I wondered why I had never thought of it myself:
But even as believers should learn to look for reasons behind their faith, skeptics must learn to look for a type of faith hidden within their reasoning. All doubts, however skeptical and cynical they may seem, are really a set of alternative beliefs. You cannot doubt Belief A except from a position of faith in Belief B.
As I began to understand the inevitability of having to choose one belief or another in life, it slowly dawned on me how important it is for defending the veracity of Christianity. This comes down to an issue of epistemology, of knowing, which we’ll discuss, but think about it. I have a choice to believe or trust in almost every encounter in life. I can choose to either trust the doctor, or not. When I go to the store and buy food or go to a restaurant, I can choose to believe the food is safe and won’t harm me, or not. When I drive, I can choose to believe the other drivers will abide by the rules of the rode or not. In any case, we can never be absolutely certain, the importance of which we’ll get into shortly.
But before we get there, prior to understanding all this this, I went through a period of what I call plausibility insanity in my Christian journey when I could almost see why not believing in God was plausible to some people. By this time I’d been a Christian for over 30 years, and you would think I would have a solid grasp on why I believed in it, but I hadn’t studied apologetics since my seminary days when I was in my 20s, and at that time I’m around the half-century mark. In 2009 after a pathetic apologetics experience with a co-worker, and I was really bad, I decided I had to get back into it, and started listening and reading everything I could get my hands on. But a plausibility structure isn’t built overnight, thus the insanity.
For example, I would be in church seeing people praying and singing hymns and wonder if they were just doing that to the air. Mind you, intellectually I absolutely believed Christianity was truth, and materialistic atheism was not, but we’re talking about plausibility here and what seems real, not what we believe is real. The question is, of course, is it real. Does God exist, and is Christianity the truth, or not. There is no in between. The choice is binary as we say nowadays, either/or. Another question logically, inevitably follows from this, one very few have considered: If Christianity isn’t true, then what is? Something has to be true about the nature of reality, so we are forced to deal with “the consideration of the alternative.” What exactly would that be. Ther are, as we know, many alternatives, but not as many as we think.
Let’s Consider the Alternatives
I’ve come across skeptics who will trot out the well-worn line that there are thousands of religions so who are you to say yours is the only absolute truth. Well, I didn’t say is it. Jesus, the foundation upon which Christianity is built, said it. And the Bible from beginning to end means to be taken as the ultimate truth about the nature of things. So, what are the alternatives to Christianity? Starting with the big picture, there are only three: theism, atheism, and pantheism. Every religion falls under one of these three. I will share how I deal with each one.
Atheism, which simply means the material is all that exists, is the least plausible of the three. Whenever I wonder if it’s all real, I simply look outside and think to myself, “If God doesn’t exist, then everything is a product of chance. Impossible!” Is it really plausible that everything we see and experience is the result of a mindless, purposeless, cosmic accident, matter in motion crashing into itself to create . . . . all of it? Really? The human heart, the human brain, the human nervous and immune system, all merely a product of chance, a cosmic accident. I know instantly that is absurd, which is why there are so very few atheists in the world. It takes far more faith, a Grand Canyon sized leap of faith, to believe the atheist worldview than to believe in the all-powerful Creator God of the Bible.
Pantheism, from a definition in Britannica, is
the doctrine that the universe conceived of as a whole is God and, conversely, that there is no God but the combined substance, forces, and laws that are manifested in the existing universe.
Thus the universe, as in atheism, is impersonal. Which is odd when you think about it because how could a universe have a world filled with persons itself be impersonal? This would mean that everything is God, the rat, the tree, the spider, the sun, the moon, the stars, you, me, the dirt, all of it. Animism is a form of pantheism in that all things are imbued with some kind of spiritual essence, although impersonal. African and native American religions, for example, were animistic, but Africa is now becoming maybe the most Christian continent on earth. Pantheism is the least credible of alternatives to modern westerners.
Theism is really the only game in town. Of the varieties of theism, we can cross polytheism off the list from the start. The ancient Greeks and Romans blew that up, and when Alfred the Great defeated the pagan Viking heathens from the north, paganism finally died in Western culture. It seems, however, that the Hindus didn’t quite get the message, but our discussion is specifically in the context of Western civilization, and thus Hinduism doesn’t qualify, although it is indeed as discredited as the polytheism of old. We can also cross off the list the seemingly infinite variations of religions that pilfer from Christianity. As I say in my book, Uninvented, everyone wants a piece of Jesus. Sorry, you can’t have him! Why should I trust Mohamed, the bloodthirsty raider who came 600 years after Christ, more than the Apostles? I won’t. Another of the ancient theistic religions that doesn’t steal from Christ is Zoroastrianism because it developed in Persia five centuries before Christianity, but it too has no appeal in the West, and doesn’t make claims to ultimate universal truth as does Christianity.
What is most fascinating about every other religion, and philosophy for that matter, save Christianity and Judaism, is that none gives us any kind of plausible explanation as to where evil comes from. For most of them, it just is, now we have to figure out a way to deal with it. None of the answers are satisfying because they don’t deal with the central issue, man’s rebellion against his Creator. Man’s nature, who he is in his fundamental being, is the problem, not his circumstances or others, but himself. Every other religion or philosophy seeks to change man’s behavior or thoughts, but can’t change his being, his natural inclination to sin, to do wrong. Only God in Christ promises by His power and initiative to do that, to change our sinful rebellious hearts of stone to flesh, that we might be born anew with the ability to change what we do and think because God Himself in Christ has changed who we are. As Paul says, when we are “in Christ” we are a “new creation, the old has gone, the new has come” (2 Cor. 5:17)
Nothing else satisfies our deepest plausibility need, the thing we can grab on to which seems real, which makes sense of everything, like Christ. A C.S. Lewis quote I use all the time says it perfectly:
I believe in Christianity as I believe the sun has risen, not because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.
Jesus of Nazareth is the reason Judaism by itself can’t claim the mantel of ultimate truth because it’s a story without an ending, and that ending is Christ. All of Isreal’s religion and history pointed forward to him, as Jesus himself told us after he rose from the dead (Luke 24).
Epistemology, Faith and Doubt: It’s All About Trust
This is the title of a section of my first book, The Persuasive Christian Parent, because what we know, why we know, how we know, are all important in raising our children in the faith, thus epistemology, or the study of that knowing. Rene Descartes wrote in the 17th century that absolute certainty was attainable by reason alone, but that proved as attainable to catch as Moby Dick, and as dangerous to try. When reason was exalted over revelation, knowing became the Holy Grail. Prior, philosophers had started their quest with being or ontology, and thus God and metaphysics came first. Now with the knower, man, coming first over his Creator, epistemology dominated intellectual discourse. God slowly became irrelevant because fallen man will always tend toward Babel if he doesn’t start with the God revealed to us in Scripture and creation.
Faith and doubt are an inescapable part of knowing because to know something requires faith to know it. As finite creatures absolute knowing is a chimera, an illusion which far too many think is possible. Yet how many people believe they have attained absolute certainty a la Descartes? One is too many, but alas they sprout like weeds in an untended garden. We can know things. Knowledge in Scripture, being able to know and trust what we know, is assumed throughout, but what I’m challenging is a specific definition of knowing: that to “know” a thing is to be absolutely certain about it, and that we can only “know” via our reason.
Which brings us to faith, a concept that is not intrinsically religious. All human beings utilize faith every day, or they wouldn’t get out of bed. It basically means trust, and when we exercise faith we generally do it with justified warrant. That is, there is enough evidence to justify putting my trust in something or someone. Since we are finite, limited in every way, human reason is incapable of achieving knowledge of an absolute sort. Much of what we “know” is not the result of some kind of logical process, deduction like a syllogism, or rigorous inductive reasoning. What we “know” can’t be proved in the final analysis. Rather what we “know” must be accepted by faith, which is warranted trust based on evidence. When we get right down to it, faith, and the acceptance of its inevitability in life, is to pay homage to our finitude. But human beings are not fond of admitting they are finite.
This refusal to accept our created nature makes perfect sense in light of what we read in the first few chapters of Genesis. We learn that our Creator is God and that we are not (shocking to some, I know). We learn that the fall from our esteemed created state was instigated by the temptation of wanting to be like God, to usurp his place as the one who defines reality, good and evil. The first temptation of man, that which caused all the suffering, misery, and death, was epistemological. The insistence that we ought to have absolute certainty and that we can reason our way to perfect knowledge, is an indication that we are by nature rebels who refuse to accept that we are contingent beings. We are dependent on God, as the Apostle Paul told the Greek philosophers in Acts 17, for life, breath, and everything else. That pretty much covers it all, including our knowing. Thus I conclude, we ought to pray for epistemological humility, which as we learn from I Corinthians 8, is knowing exercised in love for the service of others.
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