PART 1
Creating Openings for Faith
CHAPTER ONE
The Theological Foundations of Effective Apologetics
Awareness of a sense of emptiness resonates throughout secular culture. One thinks of Boris Becker, the noted tennis player, who came close to taking his own life through being overwhelmed by this sense of hopelessness and emptiness. Even though he was enormously successful, something was missing.
I had won Wimbledon twice before, once as the youngest player. I was rich. I had all the material possessions I needed: money, cars, women, everythingâŠI know that this is a clichĂ©. Itâs the old song of the movie and pop stars who commit suicide. They have everything, and yet they are so unhappyâŠI had no inner peace. I was a puppet on a string.
Or one thinks of Jack Higgins, a highly successful thriller writer at the top of his profession, author of best-selling novels such as The Eagle Has Landed. He is reported to have been asked what he now knew that he would like to have known when he was a boy. His reply: âThat when you get to the top, thereâs nothing there.â
Becker and Higgins are excellent witnesses from the world of secular culture to the fact that most people are aware that something is missing from their lives, even if they are not able to put a name to it or may not be able to do anything about it. But the Christian gospel is able to interpret this sense of longing, this feeling of unfulfillment, as an awareness of the absence of Godâand thus to prepare the way for its fulfillment.
A. APOLOGETICS IS GROUNDED IN THE DOCTRINES OF CREATION AND REDEMPTION
Through the grace of God, the creation points to its Creator. Through the generosity of God, we have been left with a latent memory of him, capable of stirring us toward a fuller recollection of him. Although there is a fracture between the ideal and the empirical, between the realms of fallen and redeemed creation, the memory of that connection lives on, along with the intimation of its restoration through redemption.
If there is some point of contact already in existence, then apologetics can make use of a God-given starting point in the very nature of the created order itself. The witness to God within his creation, the âsignals of transcendenceâ (Peter Berger) in human life, can act as a trigger, stimulating people to ask questions about the meaning of life or the reality of God. Those points of contact are meant to be thereâand they are meant to be used.
A point of contact is a God-given foothold for divine self-revelation. It is a catalyst, not a substitute, for Godâs self-revelation. It is like the advance guard of an army, preparing the ground for the major force that follows it. It is like the prestrike of a bolt of lightning, in which a conductive path is established from the earth to the sky so that the massive energy of the lightning can discharge itself fully into the waiting earth. God gives himself in the act of revelation; there is, however, a sense in which he has prepared the ground for that giving: not to preempt it, nor to make it unnecessary, but simply to make it more effective when it finally happens.
But we must be careful. Points of contact are not in themselves adequate to bring people into the kingdom of God. They are merely starting points. Nor are they adequate in themselves to bring people to a specifically Christian faith. They might well point toward the existence of a creative and benevolent supreme being. The connection with âthe God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christâ (1 Peter 1:3) remains to be made. The apologist must still show that the Christian gospel is consistent with these points of contact, that it is able to explain them, and more than that it is able to deliver all that they promise, turning hints into reality.
Christian apologetics cannot go beyond the boundaries of the biblical insights concerning the revelation of God in his creation, but it must feel able to press on toward those full limits authorized by Scripture. It must do this cautiously, wary of the dangers that lie in the path of an uncritical appeal to creation. Among those dangers, the following may be noted as especially significant.
a. There is a limit to what human reason can discern about God by an appeal to nature.1 Sin brings with it a propensity for distortion, by which Godâs revelation in creation is easily changed into an idol of our own making. The egocentricity of human sin, grounded in the fallen human will, expresses itself in the fatal wish of fallen humanity to create God in its own image and likeness, rather than to respond obediently to the self-revelation of God. This disobedience is without excuse (Rom. 1:18â2:16). Yet this flagrant abuse of Godâs revelation in nature does not discredit a cautious and responsible appeal to nature as pointing beyond itself to the one who created it and who will one day recreate it in gloryâthat is, God himself.
There is thus a fracture within creation. Fallen human nature can only reflect on a fallen creation. The fallenness of both the beholder and that which is beheld thus introduces a twofold distortion. This is most emphatically not to say that no knowledge of God may be had. Rather, we must admit that this knowledge is imperfect, broken, confused, and darkened, like a cracked mirror or a misty window. Anything that reveals less than the complete picture potentially presents a distorted picture. A ânatural knowledge of Godâ is thus a distorted knowledge of God. But as a starting point it has real potential and value.
And responsible Christian apologetics makes no claim greater than this: That our perceptions of God from nature can be taken up and transfigured by the Christian revelation, in Christ and through Scripture.
b. How can the infinite ever be disclosed through the finite? How can God, who is infinite, reveal himself through or in nature, which is finite? Early Christian writers were fond of comparing our ability to understand God with looking directly into the midday summer sun. The human mind can no more cope with God than the human eye can handle the intense glare and heat of the sun. So how can a finite and weak creature ever comprehend the Creator?
The most thorough-going response to this question relates to the âprinciple of analogy,â an idea deeply grounded in Scripture and given sophisticated theological development in the writings of such individuals as Thomas Aquinas and John Calvin. The basic idea can be stated as follows. In creating the world, God leaves his trace upon it. Just as an artist might sign a painting to draw attention to the fact that it is his or her creation, so God has left the imprint of his nature upon the created order. This is no historical accident; it is the self-expression of God in his world. And just as the eye can cope with the brilliance of the sun by looking at it through a piece of dark glass, so God wills to make himself known in a manageable way in his creation. As Calvin states this point:
The most suitable way of seeking God is not to attempt, with arrogant curiosity, to penetrate to the investigation of his essence (which we ought to adore, rather than to seek it out meticulously), but for us to contemplate him in his works, by which he makes himself near and familiar to us, and in some manner communicates himself to us.2
This is not to say that nature is God. The Creator and creation are not one and the same. We are not talking about the totality of God in this matter. We are talking about pointers, hints, rumors and signpostsâthe sort of things that point to God, but are not God in themselves.
c. Wrongly understood, natural theology could be seen as an attempt by human beings to find God. It implies that the initiative lies with fallen humanity, rather than with the revealing and redeeming God. This concern runs throughout the writings of the Swiss theologian Karl Barth and must be taken with the utmost seriousness. Barth scathingly dismisses those who construct theological towers of Babel in an attempt to make a name for themselves; their initiatives must fail, because the initiative does not lie with them. There is a gulf between ourselves and God that can never be bridged from our side. (This theme recurs in the later writings of Cornelius van Til; see Appendix B.) Even in his more irenic works, Barth is stridently insistent:
[God] cannot be known by the powers of human knowledge, but is apprehensible and apprehended solely because of his own freedom, decision and action. What man can know by his own power according to the measure of his own powers, his understanding, his feeling, will be at most something like a supreme being, an absolute nature, the idea of an utterly free power, or a being towering over everything. This absolute and supreme being, the ultimate and most profound, this âthing in itself,â has nothing to do with God.3
Nothing? This is clearly rhetorical exaggeration. The principle of the point of contact allows us to suggest that such notions are hints of something better, and intimations of Someone who is yet to come into our thinking.
Barthâs point may have been overstated, but experience suggests that overstatement is occasionally necessary to gain a hearing. To imagine that we can conjure up everything that needs to be said about God by looking at nature or at ourselves is quite unrealistic. The old-fashioned idea of âthe human quest for Godâ is misguided: Christianity is about Godâs quest for us, in which the Son of God went into the far country to bring us sinners home.4
âTrue knowledge of Godâ (Calvin) can only derive from revelation; yet God, in his mercy, has provided anticipations and hints of such saving knowledge in the world. A natural knowledge of God serves its purpose well when it intimates both the necessity and possibility of a fuller knowledge of God than that hinted at by the natural order. It is a traitor to itself when it allows itself to be seen as that knowledge in all its fullness.
B. APOLOGETICS IS GROUNDED IN GODâS ABILITY TO COMMUNICATE HIMSELF THROUGH HUMAN LANGUAGE
God is able to communicate with humans through human language. This belief is fundamental, to the point of being axiomatic, to Christian apologetics. Even though human words are inadequate to do justice to the wonder and majesty of God, they are nevertheless able to point to himâinadequacy does not imply unreliability. Human words possess a capacity to function as the medium through which God is able to disclose himself and to bring about a transformational encounter with the risen Christ.
The biblical idea of the âword of Godâ itself bears witness to the creative and transformative character of words. In commenting on the importance of language for the self-revelation of God within the biblical tradition, a leading Old Testament scholar observed that âthe wordâ
âŠis a distinct reality charged with power. It has power because it emerges from a source of power which, in releasing it, must in a way release itselfâŠNo-one can speak without revealing himself; and the reality which he posits is identified with himself. Thus the wordâŠconfers intelligibility upon the thing, and it discloses the character of the person who utters the word.5
The âword of Godâ is powerful and dynamic. It is no mere âarticulate sound or series of sounds which, through conventional association with some fixed meaning, symbolizes and communicates an ideaâ (Websterâs Dictionary). It is the living reality of God, making itself available in, through, and under what we so cheaply call âwords.â
One of the most important exponents of the ability of God to accommodate his majesty and glory in the poverty of human language is John Calvin. Beneath the surface of Calvinâs assertions concerning the ability of human words to convey the reality of God lies a remarkably sophisticated theory of the nature and function of human language.
In Scripture, Calvin argues, God reveals himself verbally, in the form of words. But how can words ever do justice to the majesty of God? How can words span the enormous gulf between God and sinful humanity? Calvin develops what is usually referred to as the âprinciple of accommodation.â6 The term accommodation should here be understood to mean âadjusting or adapting to meet the needs of the situation.â
In revelation, Calvin argues, God adjusts himself to the capacities of the human mind and heart. God paints a portrait of himself which we are capable of understanding. The analogy behind Calvinâs thinking here is that of a human orator. The parables of Jesus illustrate this point perfectly: they use language and illustrations (such as analogies based on sheep and shepherds) perfectly suited to his audience in rural Palestine. Paul also uses ideas adapted to the situation of his hearers, drawn from the commercial and legal world of the cities in which the majority of his readers lived.7
Similarly, Calvin argues, God has to come down to our level if he is to reveal himself to us. God scales himself down to meet our abilities. Just as a human mother or nurse stoops down to reach her child, by using a different way of speaking than that appropriate for an adult, so God stoops down to come to our level.8
Examples of this accommodation are the scriptural portraits of God. God is often, Calvin points out, represented as if he has a mouth, eyes, hands, and feet.9 That would seem to suggest that God is a human being. It might imply that somehow the eternal and spiritual God has been reduced to a physical human being. (This being portrayed in human form is called anthropomorphism.) Calvin argues that God is obliged to reveal himself in this pictorial manner because of our limited intellects. Images of God that represent him as having a mouth or hands are divine âbaby-talk,â a way in which God comes down to our level and uses images we can handle.
To those who object that this is unsophisticated, Calvin responds that it is Godâs way of ensuring that no intellectual barriers are erected against the gospel; allâeven the simple and uneducatedâcan learn of, and come to faith in, God.10 For Calvin, Godâs willingness and ability to condescend, to scale himself down, to adapt himself to our abilities, is a mark of Godâs tender mercy toward us and care for us.11
It must be stressed from the outset that Calvin does not believe that it is possible to reduce God or Christian experience to words. Christianity is not a verbal religion; it is experiential.12 It centers on a transformative encounter of the believer with the risen Christ. From the standpoint of Christian theology, however, that experience comes before the words that generate, evoke, and inform it. Christianity is Christ-centered, not book-centered; if it appears to be book-centered it is because it is through the words of Scripture that the believer encounters and feeds upon Jesus Christ. Scripture is a means, not an end; a channel, rather than what is channeled. Calvinâs preoccupation with human language, and supremely with the text of Scripture, reflects his fundamental conviction that it is here, through reading and meditating on this text, that it is possible to encounter and experience the risen Christ. To suggest that Calvinâor, indeed, anyone why pays high regard to Godâs self-revelation in and through Scriptureâis a âbibliolater,â one who worships a book, is to betray a culpable lack of insight into Calvinâs concerns and methods. It is precisely because Calvin attaches supreme importance to the proper worship of God, as he has revealed himself in Jesus Christ, that he considers it so important to revere and correctly interpret the only means by which full and definitive access may be had to this GodâScripture.
Apologetics, then, does not rest on finding the right form of words, as if that were an end in itself. It is grounded in the ability of God to make himself known and available through words. It is one of the many merits of the writings of C. S. Lewis that they take seriously the way in which words can generate experience. In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, he comments on the effect of a few lines of poetry on his imagination. The lines were from Longfellowâs Saga of King Olaf:
I heard a voice that cried,
Balder the beautiful
Is dead, is deadâ
These words had a profound impa...