Take Two on My Encounter with The Rationalist: Evidence

Take Two on My Encounter with The Rationalist: Evidence

In a previous post I discussed my two-and-a-half-hour grilling at the hand of a quintessential rationalist. One thing especially stood out to me was how The Rationalist used evidence as a weapon against me by discounting anything that I claimed was evidence. Only what he counted as evidence was evidence. It’s a common tactic of atheists. The Rationalist, like most rationalists, is an empiricist, meaning only what is empirically demonstrably provable counts as “evidence.” Here is a definition of empiricism:

Empiricism, in philosophy, is the view that all concepts originate in experience, that all concepts are about or applicable to things that can be experienced, or that all rationally acceptable beliefs or propositions are justifiable or knowable only through experience.

Key word: only. In the history of philosophy the rationalists and the empiricists often didn’t see eye to eye, and many saw these two approaches to epistemology as mutually exclusive. But that debate is for scholars who have too much time on their hands. In fact, most people who reject the existence of God are rationalist empiricists because they believe all knowledge does in some way only come through sense experience and that it can be rationally deduced as real knowledge, the only knowledge that is in fact real. However, nobody can be perfectly consistent in this because human beings are more than senses and reason, as I think The Rationalist demonstrated in our conversation.

Now let’s take a look at a definition of evidence:

Evidence is anything that can be used to prove something — like the evidence presented in a trial, or the trail of breadcrumbs that is evidence of the path Hansel took through the woods.

The word evidence is derived from the Latin ēvidēnt-, meaning “obvious.” The word evidence shows up frequently in legal documents and dramas, because evidence is necessary proof in linking someone to a crime or crime scene. Evidence is used in many ways to show that something is true, as in “the chocolate stains around your mouth and the crumbs on the table are evidence that you ate the last of the brownies.”

Given all human beings see things differently to some degree, what is obvious to some is not so obvious to others. Notice the phrase “necessary proof” in the definition above. Rarely does “proof” in a court of law equal absolute certainty. In fact, people are sent to prison when certainty is far from certain, and different crimes require different levels of “proof” to convict someone. There are also different levels of “proof” to convict someone in criminal verses civil trials. But, evidence, whatever that might be, is “necessary proof” in a court of law. In other words, it is reasonable to come to a conclusion based on that evidence.

The point, though, is that proof is never absolute, and anyone who thinks it is, in Paul’s words, does not yet know as he ought to know. Also, evidence can never compel someone to believe something against their will. Someone is either open to the evidence, or they are not. Even if they are willing to consider it, they may not be persuaded by it. The Rationalist, and those of his ilk, doesn’t seem to understand that, or more accurately, refuses to think evidence he doesn’t find persuasive as “necessary proof” is ipso facto not evidence! How convenient. This kind of person is deluded by the ghost of René Descartes, the founder of modern philosophy who brought the concept that absolute certainty was possible into Western thought. It’s not. Finite beings cannot be absolutely certain of anything, and if they think they are, they are living a delusion. Such people are often unpleasant to interact with because they are absolutely certain anyone who disagrees with them is absolutely wrong! And they are not shy in saying so.

Given I don’t have enough room in this post to get into what I see as evidence for the veracity of Christianity and why I embrace it, I will do that in another post, but I will mention something here called the cumulative case argument. The phrase explains itself. As evidence accumulates the argument for the case become more compelling until it becomes for certain people “proof” that the argument is true. Put another way, it is that multiple arguments or pieces of evidence come together to form a stronger conclusion. Rather than aiming to prove the conclusion with absolute certainty, the goal is to establish a conclusion that is more likely to be true than false. I would argue that for Christianity, the cumulative case for its being true rather than false is like a tsunami combined with an avalanche that turns into a Noah like flood. For me, it’s impossible to not believe it is true.

That doesn’t mean over the last four plus decades of being a Christian there were not times when I doubted whether it might not be true. Although, this is not exactly the case. I’ve never believed some alternative to Christianity might be true. If I were to believe that I would have to believe the cumulative case for whatever that view of reality was, was more compelling than the Christian faith. I’ve always known what I now call “the consideration of the alternative” must be embraced, meaning if Christianity isn’t true, something else has to be. What has waxed and waned over the decades for me is the plausibility of Christianity. At times it just didn’t seem as real as other times. I now look back at those times and call them times of plausibility insanity. What changed? My deep dive into apologetics in 2009.

I had an encounter with a co-worker that year trying to engage him about the truth of Christianity, and I was pathetic. It was embarrassing, although he wouldn’t have thought so. I determined that would never happen again. I had just purchased a car with an aux cable jack, got a small MP3 player, and started listening to apologetics podcasts. I was amazed to learn there had been an explosion of apologetics resources since I’d last studied this theological discipline in the 1980s. So listening and reading, and reading and listening, I was drinking deep of the cumulative case that yes in fact, Christianity is the truth! And that there was more than enough evidence to make the case that Jesus was indeed the risen Lord and Savior, Creator of the heavens and earth, and the reason for my existence. I will say it as I often say, quoting C.S. Lewis:

I believe in Christianity as I believe the sun has risen, not because I see it but because by it I see everything else.

I will do a third and final post in response to The Rationalist on some of the evidence that to me, makes the cumulative case and has convinced me beyond a reasonable doubt that Christianity is true.

 

 

 

My Interesting Encounter with The Rationalist

My Interesting Encounter with The Rationalist

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I say The Rationalist not because there is one such person in the world, but because the person I encountered is the quintessential rationalist. There is a lot I want to unpack here and get off my chest so this may take several posts; we’ll see. Before I get to what a rationalist is, I will briefly explain the encounter.

I was recently on the Unbelievable? Podcast with Justin Brierly, and had an enjoyable discussion about Uninvented with an atheist, Matthew Taylor. I found out he has his own podcast, Still Unbelievable! and joked with Matthew after Justin stopped the recording that I expected an invite to be on their podcast, and he said he would do that. Lo and behold he was as good as his word. I was on recently for two and a half hours! He warned me that his co-host was not as accommodating as he is, or some such words, but I assured him I could handle it. I did, but it was grueling being interrogated by a rationalist atheist for that long. I’m sure his listeners were gleeful that yet another clueless Christian proved the superiority of their worldview. But I’m convinced he could have on C.S. Lewis come back from the dead, William Lane Craig, J.P. Moreland, and J. Warner Wallace all at the same time, and The Rationalist would still feel superior to we poor benighted Christians.

First, I’ll explain what a rationalist is for those not familiar with the term. In 17th century intellectual circles skepticism was on the rise. René Descartes (1596-1650), a Catholic and generally considered the founder of modern philosophy, decided he would address the challenge. He is famous, or infamous depending on one’s point of view, for defending the faith by doubting everything that could be doubted. His goal was absolute certainty because he felt that was needed to counter the skeptics. He was convinced such certainty was possible and developed detailed rules for how to attain it. The first step was finding if there was anything he could not doubt.

He eventually concluded the only thing he could not doubt was his own thinking, thus concluding cogito ergo sum, or I think therefore I am. There is certainly something to that, but it is a very thin reed upon which to hang one’s epistemology, or how we come to know what we know. My interlocutor on the podcast seems to believe that reed is a mighty oak that encompasses the entire universe. In that I’m not exaggerating because reason for him is all you got. Rationalism, along with empiricism, that true knowledge is only available via the empirical method, rounded out the Enlightenment project of the scope of man’s possible knowledge. Eventually, metaphysics was completely rejected. With these tools it was assumed mankind could figure out the true nature of reality, and unlock all the mysteries of the universe. Good luck!

Although Enlightenment intellectuals allowed God along for the ride for a century or two, they eventually kicked Him off the bus and left Him on the side of the road to fend for Himself. They could do well enough on their own. Which gets me to my interlocutor. Both he and Matthew once embraced the Christian faith, and then rejected it. We call that nowadays a “deconversion.” Many who take this path find a kind of agnosticism because they realize having absolute certainty about the ultimate nature of things isn’t really possible, so they decide to live in the space of unknowing, or agnosticism. The Rationalist, on the other hand, believes in absolute certainty, and he is absolutely certain in his certainty! It’s amazing to see this displayed in another human being. The lack of humility and what I perceived as arrogance was unpleasant to endure. If it was just a conversation over a pint I would have quickly changed the subject to the trivial like sports or the weather and I’m sure he would have been a fine person to interact with, but being a guest on their podcast, I was kind of stuck.

And while I’m targeting rationalists in this post, don’t think they’re the only ones capable of the absolute certainty delusion. It’s a sinful human trait, and plenty of Christians are guilty of it too, and people of every other religious stripe as well. It’s terribly unattractive in whatever form it’s expressed on whatever issue. I often quote the Apostle Paul: “The one who thinks he knows something does not yet know as he ought to know.” And I always follow with, this doesn’t call for skepticism, that we can’t know, but for epistemological humility. We can in fact know, have true knowledge, but we must realize, especially as we get older, that we don’t now a whole lot more than we do. Wisdom says, I know what I don’t know.

The reason rationalists, and I mean the true believers, are often unpleasant is because of arrogance. If you disagree with them you are wrong, full stop. They are likely not like this in the rest of their lives, but when it comes to God and Christianity, they give no quarter. The weapon of choice for The Rationalist is reason in the form of logic in the form of accusations of logical fallacies. While I am superficially referring to the gentleman I engaged in this conversation, he sounded exactly like other very intelligent atheists I’ve encountered over the years. And with such a weapon no wonder there are so few atheists in the world. Saying that I would be accused, as I was, of the popular fantasy, or some such thing. Just because something is popular doesn’t make it true. To which I replied, duh! This brings up several other fallacies he accused me of, including the straw man and red herring several times. As I thought back on the encounter, I realized he was committing the exact same fallacies he accused me of, numerous times. After I said something, he would tell me what I thought, the straw man, then chop it down.

It was impossible on the fly to challenge it effectively because first, he knows more about a lot of things than I do, and I’m not a professional apologist or debater. I’m a businessman, a sales guy, who dabbles in apologetics. In fact, and I told them this, I hate debates, never watch or listen to them. But The Rationalist seemed to think we were in a debate, and he clearly won, while proving absolutely nothing about the veracity of his worldview. In fact, I thought his arguments were for the most parts terrible, but I’m not quick enough, or knowledgeable or experienced enough to effectively have challenged him. The main problem with The Rationalist, and other rationalists I’ve encountered, is that they come off as condescending. It’s just not appealing. I agree with something Dennis Prager often says. I would rather seek clarity than agreement. I can’t convince anybody of anything, and I gave up even wanting to do that a long time ago. I’d rather have a conversation of mutual respect and understanding, try to the best of my ability to see where the other person is coming from, and let God do what God does. And that’s in any encounter with any human being in any context.

I will continue with some further thoughts about the encounter in my next post. Stay tuned.

Why I Am Not a Presuppositionalist, Evidentialist, or Classical Apologist

Why I Am Not a Presuppositionalist, Evidentialist, or Classical Apologist

I am not a presuppositionalist. I don’t believe there is only one correct apologetics methodology as the presuppositionalists claim: I’m in the whatever works camp. For those not familiar with such methodologies, these are ways of going about defending the truth claims of Christianity. I’ve long been frustrated with the one-way-to-do-apologetics insistence when I learned about these methodologies at seminary in 1986. I had gotten the book Classical Apologetics by Sproul, Gerstner, and Lindsley where I first learned of the different apologetics camps. The subtitle drew me in: A Rational Defense of the Christian Faith and a Critique of Presuppositional Apologetics. These guys believed that the classical approach was the right approach to apologetics, and that frustrated me too.

Being introduced to presuppositionalism at seminary, I had a difficult time understanding it as espoused by its most famous practitioner, Cornelius Van Til. What especially frustrated me, though, was the presuppositionalist contention that their methodology is the only correct biblical apologetics method. The classical apologists, and the evidentialists as well, don’t claim theirs is the only biblical approach like the presuppositionalists, only that it’s the best or right approach. After thinking about this for 35 plus years, I am convinced there is no one biblical or correct apologetics methodology. Let me try to explain why for those who are interested in this kind of stuff.

I’ve been listening to a series on Thomas Aquinas from the Ezra Institute, and listened to an episode dedicated to his apologetics. The Ezra guys are dedicated presuppositionalists and believe it is the only valid biblical way to defend the faith. Our pastor agrees, and last year did a sermon on Acts 17 from this perspective, and it was one of the most frustrating sermons I’ve ever experienced, and that’s saying something given I’ve sat through 43(!) years of sermons. Over all these years of thinking about this, I’ve finally been able to nail down my primary frustration with presuppositionalists. I agree with most of their theology, but it’s the non sequiturs that drive me nuts.

It seems this logical fallacy is common among we sinful human beings, and I include myself in that. It simply means the conclusion doesn’t follow from the premise. For example, I don’t like a movie, therefore someone concludes I don’t like all movies. The conclusion doesn’t follow from the premise; I just don’t like that specific movie. The more you become aware of this sinful human tendency, the more common it becomes, like shopping for cars and the car you like seems to be everywhere. Presuppositionalists commit this logical fallacy when they declare anyone who believes in another methodology believes two things:

1. Epistemological neutrality, and 2. Autonomous reason

Number one, If I utilize or believe in a different methodology, they assert that I believe my knowing is not affected by sin and the fall. No Christian believes this, least of all Christian apologists, but presuppositionalists make this accusation all the time. Here is the non sequitur: Just because I don’t agree with their apologetics methodology, doesn’t mean I believe in epistemological neutrality. The same goes for number two. If I disagree with their methodology, they assert I believe reason isn’t tainted by sin, and able by its own unaided reasoning to come to ultimate truth. This is an absurd accusation because nobody believes it! Just because I see value in the Kalam cosmological argument, for example, doesn’t mean I think human reason is pure and untainted by sin. But presuppositionalists claim that I do.

The issue is epistemological, or how we come to know what we know. The main text used for this is Romans 1:

18 The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the truth by their wickedness, 19 since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. 20 For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.

The presuppositionalists focus on verse 18, that sinful human beings suppress the truth, meaning their ontological status as sinners makes them incapable and unwilling to accept truth. All Christians believe this to one degree or another contra the presuppositionalists. No Christian apologist whatever their methodology, or like me if they don’t have one, believes in a pure reason untainted by sin that has the ability of itself to know the saving truth of Christianity. We all agree the gospel is revealed truth, and God must supernaturally open people’s minds or they will not accept it.

What is strange to me about the presuppositionalist position is that in the very next verse Paul says sinners can know about God because God has made knowledge of who he is plain to them in creation. In fact, he says, His supernatural divine being is in some way obvious! People know it whether they acknowledge it or not. These are deep philosophical waters, too deep to wade into in a blog post, but the main reason I don’t fully buy the presuppositionalist position as I understand it, is because human beings don’t work that way. The Ezra guys and others I’ve heard and read over the years make the assertion specifically about Thomas’s Five Ways, i.e., proofs for the existence of God, that these arguments don’t lead to the God of the Bible, but to some vague Aristotelian god. So? Nobody stops there and says, there, we proved God’s existence, have a great life! No, they lead them to the Scriptures to meet the true and living God, the Creator of the universe, the Triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

There is no one “biblical” apologetics method because God uses everything to bring sinners to himself. I’ve listened to hundreds of testimonies over the last several years, and few people presuppose their way to Him. I argue from assumptions all the time when I’m talking to people, but that doesn’t mean I can only use assumptions. I believe the presuppositionalist arguments are powerful, but so is everything else God uses to reveal himself to sinners. The number of people who have come to Christ because of non-presuppositionalist apologists like Willian Lane Craig, R.C. Sproul, and C. S. Lewis is all I need to know that there is no one “biblical” apologetics methodology.

One of the podcasts I consistently listen to is the Side B Stories podcast, which is interviews of ex-atheists, agnostics, or skeptics. There are over 60 now, and I’ve listened to every one of them, and these people come to Christ in every way imaginable. The latest is this young man, Nico Tarquinio, who was profoundly affected by Bill Craig’s cosmological argument, among other traditional apologetics arguments. I don’t care what the argument or reasoning is, if it leads someone to Christ, that’s biblical enough for me!

 

Uninvented on The Unbelievable Podcast with Justin Brierly

Uninvented on The Unbelievable Podcast with Justin Brierly

As promised . . . . I had the incredible privilige of appearing on two popular British apologetics podcasts in one week! And Unbeliebale is the longest running apologetics podcast in existence. I would love to see what everybody thinks about which perspective is more plausible, mine (and Justin’s), or Matthew’s. I’m extremely biased for obvious reasons, so I’m curious to see what others think. I also went through a bunch of the comments on Youtube and that’s an interesting experience. Don’t think I convinced the skeptics. One said it was the worst apologetics ever! I’m an amateur, what can I say. Enjoy!

Psalm 127: Unless the Lord Builds The house . . . .

Psalm 127: Unless the Lord Builds The house . . . .

When I wrote my first book, The Persuasive Christian Parent, this short Psalm by Solomon was an inspiration, especially the first verse:

Unless the Lord builds the house,
the builders labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
the guards stand watch in vain.

Some people who read the book, or didn’t, accused me of arguing that I could guarantee my children maintaining their faith throughout life. As I said in the book itself, we are in control of nothing and can’t guarantee anything, but what we can and must do is be the best builders we can be. Not to mention God holding us accountable for how we raise our children. It’s not a dice game, a shot in the dark, but as my subtitle says, it is God’s provision for building an enduring faith in us and our children. He has given us everything we need, as Peter says, for life and Godliness through our knowledge of Him.

We see in Solomon’s wisdom a profound biblical truth: God builds and we build. These are not mutually exclusive but complimentary truths. It is my responsibility to build the best house I can possibly build. If I build a crappy house and it collapses in the storm, that is not God’s fault. It is mine! Some Christians are under the impression if they pray big, mountain moving prayers to God, that gets them off the hook for working their tail off. It doesn’t!

A good example is my current occupation. When I started building my business from scratch (on 100% commission), I was told if I make 50 to 60 calls a day, every day, I could not fail. And that is exactly what I did. I also prayed fervently to God because I desperately needed him to bless my efforts and establish the work of my hands. Me and God did some serious wrestling the first couple years because it was scary. It caused me to build my trust muscle in ways I’d never experienced before in my life, and as miserable as it was at times, the blessings have been incredible. In fact, I can hear my wife and granddaughter in the other room now as I type these words, and she is able to watch Eleanor when it’s needed because she doesn’t need to have a job anymore. That is an answer to prayer, all God, even as I worked my ever-living guts out to get it. So it’s both all me and all God—I work as if it depends on me, and pray because it depends on God.

These words of David in I Chronicles 29 were incredibly important in this difficult journey. They were in the church bulletin in the first or second church service we attended when we moved to Florida in June of 2017. I kept the bulletin and decided I was going to commit them to memory. Little did I know how much I would come to depend on them in the next several years:

11 Yours, Lord, is the greatness and the power
and the glory and the majesty and the splendor,
for everything in heaven and earth is yours.
Yours, Lord, is the kingdom;
you are exalted as head over all.
12 Wealth and honor come from you;
you are the ruler of all things.
In your hands are strength and power
to exalt and give strength to all.
13 Now, our God, we give you thanks,
and praise your glorious name.

Wealth and honor come from Him even though we have to earn it, and knowing it is all him and all me makes it all the sweeter in fulfillment. It wasn’t God waving his magic wand, or me alone by the painful toil and the sweat of my brow. It has been real achievement in which I can take justifiable pride while at the same time giving God the glory because in a real way it all comes from him.

One of the practical applications for me is that I pray for things in the past I would just do without prayer in my business and daily life. So if I have a challenging situation I do everything within my power to do what I have to do. Then I commit the situation to the Lord and affirm whatever the results are, are up to him, and I trust him. It is this dynamic that has made Isaiah 26:3 one of my favorite verses:

You will keep in perfect peace him whose minds is steadfast, because he trusts in you.

Perfect peace is something I very much want and trusting in the sovereign Almighty God of the universe is the way to get it. Why is it that Jesus commands us not to worry? Because he wants us to experience perfect peace! Or why does Paul command us not to be anxious about anything? So that we can experience the peace of God “which transcends all understanding.” I want that! When I talk to friends and relatives who are worried and anxious about things I tell them: Repent!!! Worry and anxiety are sin. If we don’t have the peace Isaiah and Paul speak about, we are in sin. We are not trusting God, and we ought not to do that because God is worthy of our trust.

If it were only that simple, right? It actually is, but it takes practice like anything else. Deciding to trust God has to become the automatic reflex of our lives when “life happens.” And it happens all the time. We all know that “thorns and thistles” are a fact of existence, every single day, but every time they create challenges and adversities it’s an opportunity to trust God, or not. It doesn’t take long to realize the God David praises as the one who is “the ruler of all things,” is worthy of our trust in all things.

Does God Exist? A Conversation with Tom Holland, Stephen Meyer, and Douglas Murray

Does God Exist? A Conversation with Tom Holland, Stephen Meyer, and Douglas Murray

If you’ve been around a while you’re no doubt familiar with the “New Atheists” who fleetingly crossed the cultural firmament for a decade early in this century. There was nothing “new” about these “New” atheists because their arguments, such as they were, were as old and stale as moldy bread. They were cliché driven anti-Christian fanatics who gained shooting star fame, and then were gone. It’s amazing to have witnessed how popular they were, then in very short order they weren’t. Non-Christian belief in the form of atheism and agnosticism still exists, obviously, but there is a breed of what we might call the New-New Atheists, and they are very important for the re-establishment of Christian Western civilization.

We’ve been programmed to think because of the onslaught of secularism over the last hundred plus years that secularism is ascendent never to retreat, and Christian civilization in the West is a spent force never to be seen again. For most people this is axiomatic, but I beg to differ. I use the Berlin Wall as a metaphor far too often, but it fits. In the ‘80s almost everyone thought Soviet communism was if not eternal, close to it. Then, like the New Atheists, it was gone. Secularism, alas, will not go so fast, and rebuilding Christian Western civilization will not be so easy, but I am convinced it will happen, as I am arguing in my next book. Our New-New Atheists are a big step in that direction.

In case you’re not familiar Uncommon Knowledge with Peter Robinson, he does interviews of interesting people on interesting topics, and he’s very good at it. Speak  ing of the Berlin Wall, he was a speech writer in the Reagan administration, and it was he who wrote Reagan’s tear down this wall speech, standing firm against all who said he should take that line out. Of the three gentlemen he’s interviewing about God’s existence, Stephen Myer is a Christian philosopher and author, and advocate for Intelligent Design. The other two are a couple of brilliant Brits. Douglas Murray is an author and political commentator, and Tom Holland is a scholar of the ancient world and the author of many books, his latest, Dominion argues that it is Christianity that gave us the modern world, and without it, a pagan world would be a very different and less hospitable place.

One of the things that stood out to me in the conversation was when Murray says, “I just don’t know.” And I think he repeats it several times. It’s a fascinating statement about the state of the man’s psychology. The issue, as it is for all atheists and agnostics, comes down to epistemology. In other words, how is it that we can “know” something. Is knowing even possible? He assumes he knows all kinds of things, but when it comes to God he just can’t “know.” This unnecessary dilemma so many face goes back to 17th century French Catholic philosopher Renes Descartes. He was trying to counter the growing skepticism of the age and attempted to prove that absolute certainty was possible. It is not! In fact, it is a fool’s errand, but his work put epistemology and the search for absolute certainty at the heart of intellectuals’ search for knowledge ever since.

Murray’s error, and Holland obviously suffers from it too, is that they believe they require some kind of knowing related to God that is different than all the other “knowing” of their lives. Any person who thinks clearly about these things (and given sin, that is not as easy as it sounds, Rom. 1:20) has to realize that all our knowledge requires faith, i.e., trust. I could prove this with one zillion examples, literally, but it isn’t necessary. Just think about it. Do we know anything with absolute certainty? Of course not. It isn’t even debatable. Which means faith, i.e., trust, is required for knowledge.

I use a phrase to make this point: there is no such thing as an unbeliever. You’ll notice throughout the conversation that Murray and Holland use faith as if it applies to other people but not them. The fact is every human being lives by faith, whether that is about metaphysical issues, like God’s existence, or should I trust the baby sitter with my child, or the doctor with my health, or the person selling me the car, and again, the examples are endless. Do I really know my wife loves me? I think I do, and there is plenty of evidence given she’s put up with me for 35 years, but I have to trust that she does. Or Do I even really know that I exist? Or do the solipsists have it right, that reality only exists in my brain? How do I know! Can I really be certain? Maybe my totally bizarre dreams I have every night are reality, and the daily mundane world I inhabit is the real dream. 

Knowing isn’t so obvious after all, but atheists and agnostics delude themselves in thinking it is. Thankfully, we don’t have to have absolute certainty to know God exists, and that Jesus of Nazareth lived, died, and rose from the dead that we might have life eternal. Stephen Meyer knows this, and he’s brilliant. He’s far more persuasive than his two agnostic interlocutors.