The last few years have seen a remarkable amount of debate
and discussion on the issue of religion. From paedophile priests to “The God
Delusion”, gay marriage, faith schools, bishops in the House of Lords and the cartoonishly indignant caricature of the “Christian Right” which appears to hold such sway over American
politics, we keep on talking about this persistent, bothersome and rather
nebulous entity called “religion”.
For some, these discussions are an opportunity to point out
the laughable stupidity of the hapless unthinking believer. For others, they represent an opportunity to
strike out at the moralistic proclamations of a corrupt and hypocritical
church. Unfortunately, these discussions are rarely approached with the
maturity they deserve. The atheist who considers the belief of the faithful
pure fallacy rarely stops to consider that many of the greatest minds of the
past and present centuries have acknowledged spirituality and often
Christianity specifically. The anti-hypocrisy snifferdog rarely pauses to
consider their own fallibility, and the possibility that something can be true
even if those proclaiming the truth are themselves flawed.
As a Christian in the legal profession I find myself
considering a question which has been asked, usually rhetorically, by many
detractors of Christian morality:
What gives the church
the right to tell us how to live?
This question is at the core of all other objections in this
field. Those who argue vehemently against the existence of God and the veracity
of the Christian faith do so not because they passionately believe in the
absence of the evidence (indeed, as Dawkins regularly points out, why would
someone be passionate about not believing
something?), but because they passionately believe that nobody should tell them
how to live. Those who point to the flaws (many real, some imagined) in the
ethical track record of the church in its various forms do so because they
resent, like we all do from time to time, the feeling that we are being told
what to do, particularly by people who don’t practice what they preach.
So what right does the church have? What right does any man have to tell another
how to live? If we mean “tell” in the
sense of a compulsion, an order, an instruction, then the answer must be none,
with the exception of narrowly defined areas of life, under a specific
authority bestowed by law (e.g. police powers) or by nature (e.g. father to
young son).
If we mean “tell” in the sense of an encouragement, an
exhortation, a plea, then the question is quite different. I have no right nor
authority to force you to live as I wish.
But, in the right context, I can tell you my sincere and heartfelt
belief about the best way to live.
If that is true, then we have established that the church
does have a right – the same right as the World Health Organisation or
proponents of vegetarianism – to attempt to persuade you to and encourage you
to live in the way they think best.
So the real question is not whether the church (and by the
church I mean followers of Jesus, wherever they may be) has a right to raise
its voice. The real question is whether there is any reason to consider that
voice worth listening to. In other words, whether there is any reason to
believe that these Christians might be right.
Since Christians claim that their moral framework has been
given to them by God, in order to evaluate the moral claims of Christianity,
one has no option but to consider the question of whether Christianity itself
is true or not.
This is the core of the matter. As much as some Christians
may argue that biblical advice for living so well founded that “even if it’s
not true, I’d live this way”, the real crux of the Christian argument comes
with the question of truthfulness. As CS
Lewis said:
“Christianity, if
true, is of utmost importance. If false, it is of no importance. The only thing
it cannot be is moderately important”
A more modern take is from Matthew Parris:
“If a faith is true it
must have the most profound consequences for a man and for mankind. If I
seriously suspected a faith might be true, I would devote the rest of my life
to finding out… ‘Familiar’ be damned. ‘Comforting’ be damned. ‘Useful’ be
damned. Is it true? — that is the question. It was the question when I was 12
and the question when I was 22. Forty years later it is still the question. It
is the only question.”
The evidence of the truth of Christianity is there. You may
have to see beyond the hyperbolic straw-man arguments of many atheists and
secularists. You may have to peel back the layers of church tradition and human
corruption. You may even have to think for yourself rather than allowing
popular opinion and the secular press to sway your mind. But the evidence is
there.
And if the real issue is the truth or otherwise of
Christianity, then the specifics of the moral claims fall to the wayside. The accusation
is often levelled that Christians who hold to a certain view of, for example,
sexual ethics, are “stuck in the past” and need to recognise “society has moved
on”. Surely, if something is true, it is true regardless of what the society
around it believes.
When Christians led the charge to eradicate the slave trade
they were praised (eventually). When Christians were at the forefront of aid
missions to Africa they were doing what was right. Yet
when Christians refuse to bow to public pressure to adapt their view on the
rights and wrongs of sexuality, they are bigoted, homophobic, and behind the
times. What is it to believe something both when it makes you popular and
unpopular? Does it show mental strength and heartfelt conviction? Or does it
show an inability to move on, a mind “stuck in the dark ages”?
St Paul might
describe this as preaching the gospel in season and out of season. Secular
humanists describe it as “fundamentalism”. What is fundamentalism, and why is
it a bad thing? Should we not be “fundamentalist” about liberty, about justice,
about poverty, about equality? Or do we no longer have fundamentals? Perhaps the issue is that “fundamentalists”
have fundamentals that society no longer values. Let’s give up the name-calling
and the stereotypes – fundamentalism is a meaningless term. We were
fundamentalist about free speech until we started disagreeing.
To those who would seek to suppress Christian opinion on
matters where it refuses to chime in with the conformism of our
post-post-modern secular humanist morality, I say that the church has a right
to argue, to persuade, to encourage, to plead. In response you can either
ignore, or you can address the argument and genuinely consider its merit. What
you mustn’t do is boil it down to unsophisticated superstition and thereby
belittle the majority of souls on the planet, and indeed the majority of people
in the country, who remain open to the idea of the existence of God. It not
only belittles them, it belittles the integrity of your own thinking.
To Christians I say this: Do not be silenced. You do not
just have a ‘right’ to speak up, you have a duty. You have a duty to preach the
gospel – the whole gospel – to persuade the world of the best way to live, to
point to complete forgiveness for every past present and future wrong in Jesus,
and to call a lost culture to the light of God. This must be done with respect,
with love, and out of a desire not to see yourself vindicated, but to see the
world redeemed.
You may be met with, to use the favoured moralistic terminology
of the day, intolerance. You will be misrepresented and accused of bigotry and
hatred. Your intelligence will be insulted and your character slurred.
Only a few months ago Archbishop John Sentamu spoke
eloquently and – I thought – sensitively about his opposition to government
changing the definition of marriage. He was at pains to express his passion for
equality, yet argued that marriage was not a matter of equality, given all the
legal rights already contained within the Civil Partnership regime. In response, campaigner Peter Tatchell called
him a “religious authoritarian” and he received racist abuse in letters and
emails.
Jesus said “the world hates me” and “if they hate me, surely
they will hate you”. Nevertheless, he commanded “take up your cross”. But he
added the promise: “I will build my church and the gates of hell will not
prevail against it”.
Keep the faith, stand firm, live with integrity and love,
and proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ fearlessly, shamelessly and clearly. Love
God - don’t shy away from his word. And love people – no judgement, no
condemnation, no self-righteousness, no tribalism, sectarianism or hatred.
Love. And in the context of a life of love…
speak up. You have a voice worth listening to.
