News

Heading into 2021 with confidence in God

by Editor

How would you sum up 2020? What words would you use to describe the year just gone? Challenging? Perplexing? Difficult? Lonely? Unexpected? Surprising?

Rewind to 1st January 2020. Who would have predicted that within a few months, much of life as we know it would grind to a halt, schools would be closed and church congregations would not be able to physically gather to worship together?

And now as we embark on this New Year, there are still many uncertainties about what lies ahead in the next 12 months. Will there be any more spikes in Covid infection rates? How long will it take for the Covid vaccines to be widely available? Will we see the end of ‘lockdown’? As the year unfolds, what will the toll of last year’s restriction look like in terms of the physical, mental, emotional, spiritual and financial health of our nation? As if this wasn’t enough, we might add into the mix the added unknown impact of the UK leaving the EU!

With uncertainty all around us, it can be disheartening. We might be prone to feeling overwhelmed and discouraged. In our present situation with all that is unknown, hear these wonderful words of hope from the book of Ephesians (2:10):

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. 

One writer has said that the book of Ephesians was written to expand the horizons of the Apostle Paul’s readers so that they might better understand the dimensions of God’s eternal purposes and transforming grace. So allow God, by the power of His Spirit, to expand your horizons as we consider what He might be saying to us here at the start of 2021.

Already in Ephesians chapter 2 we have learned that because of God’s transforming grace, believers are made “alive with Christ” (2:2). If this was not astounding enough, Paul goes on to explain something more of God’s eternal purpose for His people: “For we are God’s handiwork.”  The Greek word here might well carry the connotation of artistic skill. The ESV translates it as “his workmanship” or the NET as “his creative work.” Each piece of art reflects something of the artist. The only other use of this word in the New Testament is in Romans 1:20. There Paul says that God’s character- His eternal power and divine nature- are clearly seen through the created world. These dear believers in Ephesus have been transformed through the work of God’s grace. By saying they are “God’s handiwork” in 2:2 Paul likens them to the created world referred to in Romans 1; they are to clearly display something of the character of God to the watching world.

How do God’s people show that they are his handiwork? Through “good works” for which they have been created in Christ Jesus. Paul could not be more clear in the preceding verses; no one is saved by good works but we are saved for good works. To a watching world, this is how the believers live out the Gospel and reveal their Creator’s character: by doing good works.

But there is another precious truth in this verse. Not only are believers God’s handiwork, but Paul finishes this verse by saying that our Great God has prepared good works in “advance for us to do.” Here is a reminder of a theme that occurs throughout the book of Ephesians: God is sovereign! He has sovereignly brought us to Himself through the gift of faith and He will continue His work of transformation is us. Hopefully as you reflect on 2020 with all of its challenges and perplexity that you can see that God has indeed been at work in your life, like a skilled artist, making you more into His own likeness (4:24). As we begin 2021 with all of its uncertainties, we don’t know what this year will hold, but God does. And he goes before us into this New Year preparing good works for us to do.

So what are some of these good works that God has prepared for us? Well the book of Ephesians is crammed full of what this might look like for us:

– increasing adoration of God for his gift of salvation (1:3-9)
– deeper prayerfulness (there are two sublime prayers in 1:15-19 and 3:16-20)
– growing spiritual maturity (4:13-15)
– greater mastery over our sinful tendencies (4:25-32)
– expressing love and humility in our closest relationships (marriage, families and work situations: 5:22-6:9)
– cultivating wisdom in how to stand against the powers of darkness (6:10-18)
– developing a readiness to share the Gospel (6:19-20)

So as we begin 2021 with all of its uncertainties, may these words from Ephesians 2:10 serve to expand our horizons and help us further grasp the dimensions of God’s eternal purposes and transforming grace. If we are in Christ Jesus, we can take great hope that while we don’t know what the future holds, God does. He goes before us. As part of God’s handiwork, in the year that is before us in what ways will you display His character to a watching world?

Gordy Mackay is the Community Pastor at Perth Baptist Church in Scotland.

Is Christmas Cancelled?

by Solas

When we look at the circumstances of Christmas 2020, could it be worse? In this year’s Christmas Short Answers message, Gareth Black looks at the circumstances surrounding the first Christmas. Far from ideal, they were the context for the most unshakeable hope.

Gareth mentions the latest article by Gavin Matthews found in the Scotsman newspaper here.

Share

Please share this video widely with friends or family and for more Short Answers videos, visit solas-cpc.org/shortanswers/, subscribe to our YouTube channel or visit us on Twitter Instagram or Facebook.

Support

Short Answers is a viewer-supported video series: if you enjoy them, please help us continue to make them by donating to Solas. Visit our Donate page and choose “Digital Media Fund” under the Campaign/Appeal button.

A Beginner’s Guide to Apologetics – Complete Series

by Editor
Support evangelism and evangelism training across the UK

Throughout the year we have been publishing articles every fortnight, introducing people to positive arguments and evidence for Christian Faith. Billed as “A Beginner’s Guide to Apologetics”, these introductory articles were all written by competent scholars in a range of academic disciplines, but are accessible to general readers. All the contributors added suggestions of further more specialist reading for those who want to delve more deeply into the issue at hand.

Here are links to the entire series, so you can find every one of them directly from this page without searching through the website. We have found engaging with these thinkers illuminating, exciting and encouraging. Although this series consists of new writing and is book-length in total, we are not printing, packaging and selling it.. it’s all freely available here for you to enjoy.

Click on an image to go to the relevant article: the first one links to the series introduction.

  

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once again, a huge thanks to all the contributors to this series.

The Wonder of The Incarnation

by Editor

The idea of incarnation is fundamental to the Christian faith, and something most Christians spend time pondering especially around this time of year. It perhaps has a particular significance for all of us as we come to the end of a difficult 2020. The word literally means, ‘in the flesh’ and in the Christian faith describes how the creator of the universe, and the creator of each person, took on human likeness and came to earth in human form. For many people, the idea that God could or would become human seems utterly bizarre. Leaving aside the philosophical considerations, to many, the very notion seems ridiculous. If there is a God, why would that God think that it is a good idea to come and live on earth as a human for a thirty or so years. It seems an irrelevant act, a strange use of time, and perhaps so ‘out of character’ with what we imagine a creator God would be like. But in a year where we have had to endure painful physical separation of loved ones, I know that for me, the idea of someone coming to visit me, ‘in the flesh’ has a new poignance.

Recently I was thinking about three little stories that the gospel writer, Luke, records Jesus telling. They are all stories of lostness and separation; a lost sheep, a lost coin, and lastly, two lost sons (Luke 15:1-31). Luke gives us the context for these stories: a very religious group of people, were criticising Jesus for ‘welcoming the sinners’ who had gathered around him. These leaders believed that religious people could not come near to anything or anyone that wasn’t holy or pure for fear of contamination. They believed this, because they believed that God could never come near to ‘sinners’. The religious leaders were shocked that Jesus, a Rabbi known for teaching the things of God, would so involve himself with these ungodly people.

It was in response to these questions and criticism that Jesus told these stories, stories which are in fact all about the nature of God. Jesus said that God is like a shepherd who will endanger himself for a sheep that has gone so far off course that it will take significant work and effort to bring that little sheep home. Jesus said that God is like a woman who is on her hands and knees searching for a precious coin. Lastly, Jesus said that God is like a father who will run towards a son returning home. For me, all of these stories give me a glimpse into the kind of God who would incarnate.

One theologian, Kenneth Bailey who spent twenty-five years studying ancient Middle Eastern culture in the West Bank records how shepherds of Lebanon and Palestine describe a sheep when it has got lost. They record that a sheep, when lost, can get into a state of nervous collapse and, finding as sheltered a place as is immediately available, will sit down and start shaking and bleating. In this terrified state it can’t respond to the shepherd’s well-known call, it can’t walk or be led, it cannot even stand or be made to stand. The only way that this sheep can be restored to the flock is if the shepherd himself comes to the sheep, hauls the sheep (which can weigh up to seventy pounds) up onto his shoulders and carry it like this, usually over rugged terrain, all the way home.

This image, to me, explains something about the idea of incarnation. In the image that Jesus gives us here, God is like a shepherd who will cover vast landscape to get to his sheep. Jesus is saying that God is like shepherd who will go the distance to make sure that his sheep gets safely home. There is a physicality to this story that speaks of actual closeness, of a gap being breached so that togetherness can be achieved. Even the image of a shepherd carrying the full weight of the terrified sheep on his own shoulders, not paying a hired hand to do it, but doing it himself, communicates to Jesus listeners, and to us, something of the nature of this God; a God who will endure suffering on our behalf.

The next image that we are given is that of a woman, down on her hands and knees searching for a coin that is lost. Here Jesus is helping his listeners to learn something new about God. Many theologians have noted the importance of Jesus likening God to a woman, as he does in other places (e.g. Luke 13:34) following in the tradition of many of the prophets (e.g. Isaiah 42.14). As in this case, Jesus constantly challenged the unjust treatment of women by including them in spheres from which they were usually excluded. The gospels record the religious leaders, the crowds and even his own disciples frequently being shocked by the way Jesus welcomed, included and honoured the women around him. He welcomed their intimate friendship as he did with his male disciples (Luke 7.38), he welcomed them as those who should be allowed to learn equally alongside the men (Luke 10:38-41), and in his teaching by using examples both from the world of men and from the world of women in that society (Mark 2:21-22).

This is no side-point about the character of God. In a world where power can often be associated with a type of dominant misogyny that seems to recoil from the feminine, the God of the Bible comfortably associates and identifies with women. Again, this helps us to understand something about the God of the Bible and the type of God who would incarnate. One of the reasons I find Christmas so compelling, and why each year I find that the carol Silent Night somehow captures my own feeling that I need to fall silent in awe and wonder, is this seeming paradox: that the God of the universe would become a little baby. Many scoff at the idea of the most powerful being becoming the most vulnerable. What kind of God would allow himself to be so weak? A God who doesn’t recoil from receiving love, intimacy, from being so vulnerable himself as to be held for 9 months in a mother’s womb, cradled in his parents’ arms, suckled, comforted. It is so hard for us to square with our preconceived notions of power and might. Yet here again, Jesus invites us to understand the nature of God in profoundly new way.

Lastly Jesus likens God to father. A father who has been scorned by both sons. Sons who are far more interested in what their father can give to them than in a relationship with him. Yet when one son realises his folly and turns for home Jesus tells us of a father who has been waiting, scanning the horizon, longing for his son to turn and come back. When he finally glimpses his son, still a long way off, we are told the father picks up his robes and runs to the son. Again, theologians have noted a stark cultural reference which could be easy for us to miss. It would have been unthinkable for a wealthy man to pick up his robes, exposing his ankles, and to run, let alone towards a son who had so dishonoured him. The listeners would have been aware of how undignified this action would have been in the sight of the community looking on.

Here again Jesus is conveying something utterly profound about the nature of God. Not only is this God willing to go the distance and bear the weight of a lost sheep, not only is this God willing to be associated with what might be thought to be weak and vulnerable, but this God is willing to be thought of as utterly undignified in his expression of love for his children.

When people think of the incarnation it can seem so undignified. How could a mighty and omnipotent God so closely intermingle with his creation. But the incarnation expresses something of the type of love that God has; a love that is not afraid to get up-close and personal. A type of love which is not revulsed by the materiality of this world, but who greatly values it and dignifies it, not only in having created it, but in having entered into it and taken on flesh himself. God loves and honours our bodies, he loves and honours this material world.

While the incarnation certainly contains much mystery, the more I consider what it tells me about the nature of God, the more I marvel and think – what other kind of God would I want to worship? In a year when so much distance has had to be created, I have felt again how relational intimacy is at the heart of life. If the God of the universe is a God who would incarnate, then that makes sense. The very reason for our existence is deep relationship with a God who has expressed his desire for intimacy with us in the ultimate way; he is Emmanuel – God with us. I hope that this Christmas whatever loneliness or alienation anyone might feel, we know the love of a God in heaven who longs to comes close to each one of us, a God who wants to carry our burdens for us, a God who searches for us because we are so eternally precious to him, a God who scans the horizon and will run towards us at the first sign of our turning for home.

Lara Buchanan is an Itinerant speaker and writer. Lara holds degrees in History, English Literature, and Education from the University of Cape Town as well as a Certificate in Theology and Apologetics through OCCA The Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics and Oxford University.

Christ Centred Apologetics

by Editor

I have the worse sense of direction. If I don’t have directional guidance I can end up in the wrong state. In fact, its so bad I often travel to the same locations utilising a navigation system of some sort. With a navigation system in place you are almost sure of finding the right location. I say almost because a navigation system is only as good as the address. To get to the destination you need a description of where you are going. If you don’t, how will you know if you ever got there? You could travel for days wandering around. Of course, you can see everywhere you travel but without an address your travel is in vain.

Navigation: Needs an address

The task of apologetics is to be a navigational tool in the hand of the Christian. It is an intellectual tool helping us navigate questions, objections, and challenges to the Christian faith. RC Sproul describes apologetics as “pre-evangelism”. I like that definition because it clarifies the address of every apologetic endeavour. Apologists must start with the head but should eventually and inevitably aim for the heart. In every conversation, ministry, lecture, and article we should aim to transform from apologist to evangelist. Ultimately, we must navigate the tough questions to eventually plug in the coordinates of Christ. Everyday apologetics will typically start with questions on ethics or observations about current events. Yes we may stop there to handle rational pit stops. Still we must remember the finish line will always be Christ.

Our main point is Jesus

The goal of apologetics is not merely to persuade one that a God exist. At minimum, if we succeed, then we have only acquiesced to convert humans into demons for even they believe that God exist (James 2:19).  As apologist we have many targets, applications, and contexts yet always one goal. We are winning people to Christ. We have intellectual focus but our main focus is to win people and not merely arguments. We do Christ and our mission great disservice if we answer objections in various realms and capacities yet relinquish a presentation of Christ. Will it always happen in the conversation at hand? No, but that should be our aim knowing tomorrow is not promised and that Christ may return at any moment.

Christ-centred apologetics must also be persuasive and winsome too. We should present our arguments with love and concern. If apologetics merely becomes an academic endeavour, we will lose all the pastoral care and compassion needed for the task of evangelism to become possible. Here are some practical tips for pursuing Christ-centred apologetics:

  • Defend the faith without being defensive. Defend the faith not your pride.
  • Share your need for Christ so others may potentially see theirs.
  • Don’t merely regurgitate arguments or points from your favourite apologist. Focus on the person you are speaking with and their particular needs.
  • Present the love and grace of Jesus so winsomely and illustratively that they think its too good to be true.
  • Do more listening than talking. Don’t interrupt. Don’t zone out on their objections and rehearse your irrelevant response.
  • Affirm positive aspects of their thoughts. What points of their religion or worldview is actually commendable?
  • Before you use the Bible given reasons why you believe it as a reliable source.
  • Don’t merely quote scripture. Explain scripture and its context.
  • Lastly, ask to present Christ. Say something like, “Do you mind if I tell you why I think Jesus makes the difference on this matter?”

Dear apologist, never wander aimlessly. Plug in the coordinates of Christ in your presentation and within your heart (1 Peter 3:15).  Give a reason for the hope in your heart. That hope is the good news of Jesus not a three-point syllogism. After the arguments, rebuttals, and fact checks, bring Christ to the forefront. Don’t be ashamed, because the Gospel actually has the power to save (Romans 1:16).

Cam Triggs is Director of Urban Apologetics and Senior Blog Editor for the Jude 3 Project and is a speaker for the Jude 3 Project. This article first appeared there, and is used with permission. He loves Jesus. God saved Cam from wrath, sin, death, and Satan in 2005. He began studies at University of Central Florida as a Religious Studies major & continued his education at Reformed Theological Seminary where he earned a Masters of Arts in Theological Studies. During his time at RTS, Cam was privileged to study under the apologist John Frame. In the future,  he looks forward to further study in the areas of philosophy, theology, and African American studies. Cam currently serves as a Church Planting resident at Summit RDU as he prepares to start a new church in Orlando. More importantly, he is married to his beautiful best friend Tymara Triggs and the proud father of Cameron Triggs II. Stay connected with him at camtriggs.com.

PEP Talk Podcast With Murray McNicol

by Solas

Church outreach events and evangelism courses sound like a great idea, but do they actually work? Here on PEP Talk we discover that, yes, they can! We hear today from a “normal” guy (chartered accountant, no less) from an “ordinary” church that is developing an amazing culture of outreach – and seeing God at work through it all!

With Murray McNicol – PEP Talk

Apple Podcasts
Spotify
Amazon Music
RSS Feed

Our Guest

Murray McNicol is an elder at Maxwell Mearns Castle Church in Newton Mearns, near Glasgow. Married to Margo with two student daughters, he is a lapsed accountant and the co-founder of a software business, providing services to the hospitality sector.

About PEP Talk

The Persuasive Evangelism Podcast aims to equip listeners to share their faith more effectively in a sceptical world. Each episode, Andy Bannister (Solas) and Kristi Mair (Oak Hill College) chat to a guest who has a great story, a useful resource, or some other expertise that helps equip you to talk persuasively, winsomely, and engagingly with your friends, colleagues and neighbours about Jesus.

Support the Podcast

A Beginner’s Guide to the Argument from Truth

by Editor

And where did she go?
Truth left us long ago
And I need her tonight because I’m scared of loneliness with you, baby
And I should let it go
But all that is left is my perspective, broken and so left behind again.

– English Indie band, London Grammar, Rooting For You.

We are all Truth-seekers

In a time when the unspooling reality of post-truth as seen through Facebook’s fake news outlets; Cambridge Analytica’s (no longer quite so) clandestine political machinations; and the ongoing disinformation campaigns spearheaded by the Kremlin and The White House, it is, perhaps, unsurprising if we too have imbibed the cultural Kool Aid that truth no longer matters. Peter Pomerantsev summarises this sentiment in his latest book This is Not Propaganda like this: “‘There is so much information, misinformation, so much of everything that I don’t know what’s true any more.’” [sic.]

And yet, it is precisely when we see the cost of truth having seemingly exited the world stage, that we become more desirous of pursuing it. Truth matters. Along with London Grammar, we find ourselves longing for truth: ‘Where did she go? I need her…’ Post-truth reveals our desire for truth. We want transparent politicians and trustworthy news sources.

Even when spin, power-plays, and alternative facts seemingly dominate the world stage, this socio-political phenomenon is unable to eradicate our status as truth-seekers. If anything, it has only served to highlight it.

It is not that society does not long for truth, but that we are only too aware of our own limitations in perceiving truth truly. As, ‘all that is left is my perspective, broken and so left behind again.’ We want truth, but we are left asking the question, ‘is it possible to know truly?’

Our post-Enlightenment age has woven the golden thread of scepticism deep into hearts. Doubt reigns. Ostensibly, it is the preserve of the intellectually sophisticated and humble, most especially when the alternative is the hubris of restrictive, absolute truth claims. As the late philosopher Dallas Willard reminds us:

We live in a culture that has] for centuries now cultivated the idea that the skeptical person is always smarter than the one who believes. You can be as stupid as a cabbage, as long as you doubt… Today it is the skeptics who are the social conformists.[1]

The charge that sceptics are the social conformists is an interesting insight. However, what I would like to focus on is what Don Carson exposes as a common, unacknowledged, base-level assumption behind absolute truth claims. It is this that makes scepticism more appealing:

Behind the objection of arrogance to exclusivity lies this indefensible, destructive and controlling antithesis: Either you know something exhaustively and omnisciently, or you have to give up claims to objective knowledge.[2]

Many of us  are aware of our inability to access truth in toto. As the Christian worldview holds, ‘Truth left us long ago’, and ever since, we have been scrambling and searching for truth.

As a result, a  variety of views on knowing, reality, and being, have been formulated over the centuries, stemming from the early philosopher Thales (‘everything is water’), to Heraclitus (‘all is flux’, cue the lyrics to Pocahontas’ song ‘you can’t step in the same river twice’) to Plato (eternal forms are really real) down to Aristotle (all that matters is matter), reveal humanity’s quest for truth. We have always hungered after it, even when we have doubted whether or not it is possible to attain.

As Carson reminds us, we assume that unless we know completely (which we cannot), we have to give us claims to total knowledge (which we do). Why is this? There is a personal dynamic, as well as a philosophical one at work here.

The fall-out of modernity, in which the triumvirate of tradition, reason and authority ruled, created a profound disconnect between objective and subjective knowledge. Modernity significantly overlooked the personal needs of the individual; and we are only too aware of the ensuing devastating effects of power – oppression. When one people group; religious, tribal or otherwise, have colonised, commissioned crusades, and/or committed genocide, we are rightly left extraordinarily suspicious of any one overarching, absolute truth claim.

Objective claims to knowledge have been, therefore, discarded in favour of subjective claims to knowledge. It goes that no one person is able to determine what is true for everyone at all times, so the best choice is to self-create our own mini-narratives within our own geographical sub-cultures and contexts for our own lives and families. We see this encapsulated in everyday statements such as ‘you do you’ and ‘stay in your own lane’.

Relativism rescues… Or does it?

Relativism, then, is the philosophical position that each person or group defines their views on truth/s, ethics, and values. Problems with this position are encountered almost immediately.  I will list just two:

First, it is self-referentially incoherent. The proposition ‘truth is a social construct’ is itself a social construct! To say, ‘all truth is relative’ is itself relative! Relativism makes a universal truth claim by saying all truths are relative. This falls foul of that which it is trying to achieve. For relativistic truth claims to mean anything at all, they have to be taken as statements of absolute truth.

Second, as Peter Hicks states in Evangelicals and Truth, “Relativism destroys meaning and makes communication impossible” (p.137). For the relativist, there is no shared world of meaning. This is deeply problematic as it renders all attempts at communicating meaning – linguistic or otherwise – futile. Not only is this position philosophically untenable, but it also cuts against our daily experiences of life. The fact you are able to read and discern meaning through these sentences is evidence that communication does happen, and reality isn’t thus just because we declare it to be in accordance with our own personal preferences or thoughts. Objectivity is a needful, necessary assumption.

Moreover, more often than not, ethically speaking, moral relativism also possesses immense limitations. A universal standard by which we can judge right and wrong is not only necessary but wanted. Some things are wrong at all times and in all places – genocide, murder, rape, to name a few. These are not local transgressions; such acts are objectively evil. To say otherwise would be to hold that if the Nazi’s had won the Second World War, then their victory would have legitimised the Holocaust de facto.

Perhaps this may be unsatisfactory response to the thorough-going relativist. They may say, ‘Who cares whether or not truths are relative? I am very happy living mine.’ As the author Madeleine L’Engle writes in Walking on Water:

We do not draw people to Christ by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.

This is the ultimate challenge. Are we able, as the German Protestant church leader Johannes Hamel commended, to speak ‘true words as fingers pointing to the crucified Christ?’ Can we as the church provide, what the philosopher Alistair MacIntyre exhorts us to in After Virtue: “What matters as this stage is the construction of local forms of community within which civility and the intellectual and moral life can be sustained through the new dark ages which is already upon us.”

Moreover, as Hicks goes on to write:

…however strong our commitment to postmodernism and relativism may be, we have to admit that the asking and answering of questions is foundational to human life as we know it. Exploring the world around us, and ourselves, and our relationships to each other, and the meaning of things, and concepts like beauty, truth, and value and goodness, did not start with the Enlightenment: these things are an essential part of what it means to be human. To veto the asking of questions is to deny our humanity.

At bottom, Relativism denies our humanity. There is, however, at least one good insight from relativism. Ellis Potter in How Do You Know That? summarises the benefit and pitfall to postmodernity (the backdrop to relativism) like this: “I am grateful to postmodernism because it has restored subjectivity to truth. I am unhappy with postmodernism because it has eliminated objectivity from truth.” 

What, then, is the alternative?

We have seen that we are unable to know exhaustively, and local accounts of truth are insufficient to hold the weight of their own philosophical argumentation, let alone our human desires. What, then, are we left with? How can we know anything?

Carson goes on to identify that our inability to know exhaustively doesn’t preclude our ability to know partially. More than that, exhaustive knowledge is a false Enlightenment ideal, whereas partial yet true knowledge accords much more profoundly with what it means for us to be human. Indeed, there is a ‘coming-to-know’ and an ongoing relationship with knowledge that neither modernity nor postmodernity have been able to embody or employ.

Covenant Epistemology

Rather than restricting ourselves to local formulations of truth, or binding ourselves to irrelevant, abstract objective truth, covenant epistemology, an account of biblical knowing, upholds the aspect of truth as discovery. Truth is discovered, not manufactured.

When considering the boiling point of water, few of us would brandish a thermometer and continually test the boiling point of water in order to observe that it does (usually) boil at around 100C.  We have received this knowledge from trustworthy sources of authority. Reliable guides have conducted the experiments and discovered the boiling point for us. This means we are no less rational for asserting 100C as the boiling point of water not having conducted the experiment, than those who have. This is just one example of truth revealing itself to us – either directly or by way of testimony. All truth is revealed truth – this applies to scientific discoveries just as much as it does to Whitney Houston’s long-time existential question, ‘how will I know if he really loves me?’

Reality is personal. The triune God, reality, reveals truth, if we adopt the receptive posture of humility.

The philosopher, Esther Meek, in her magnum opus, Loving To Know, traces the contours of knowing fuelled by love, over-against the Enlightenment ‘knowledge-as-information’ approach, and the post-modern ‘all is love’ mantra.

The suggested alternative to knowing which steers clear of the over objectification of knowledge and its power-plays as well as the eddying waters of relativism and subjectivity, is, what Meek has coined, covenant epistemology.

Meek builds on the work of former scientist-cum-philosopher, Michael Polanyi, in order to establish a way of knowing that restores heads and hearts, facts and values, objectivity and subjectivity, the knower and the known – a full-bodied, Biblical epistemology. That is, a Biblical exploration of how we know what we know; indeed, how even come to know in the first. This is the realm of epistemology. It is the study of knowing.

In A Little Manual for Knowing, Meek delivers an entrée to this covenant epistemology. Here she writes: “[If love] is at the core of all things, if reality is, at its core, the highly sophisticated interpersonal act of gift, then knowing is quite sensibly a responding to the gesture of love.”

Covenant epistemology (knowing) is a response to overtures of love leading to obedience and delight. Knowing, then, takes place within the setting of interpersonal, covenantal relationship. Knowing is a moment of encounter and transformation, after which we are never the same again. We do not know in order to love; instead, we love in order to know. It is as we humbly submit ourselves to clues that reality begins to reveal itself to us. For example, Polanyi illustrates with the act of riding a bike. To begin, when learning to ride the bike, one seeks to physically indwell the clues – that is, we sit on the bike, our legs start peddling and our bodies try to keep us on the bike. Attempts are made to coordinate balance, momentum and direction. At some inexplicable point there comes a moment of integration when those clues (pedalling, steering, balance, etc.) can be relied on in a subsidiary, secondary, way. It is from those clues one is lead to riding the bike. It is when one no longer focusses on said clues and instead finds oneself riding the bike, that reality is encountered. And we know, not because we are now able to close off the boundaries of knowledge and precisely articulate the event of bike-riding, but because it opens us up to further knowing. We can now ride that bike in a variety of contexts, with multiple persons. Knowing leads to more, not less, all because we submitted humbly to the clues of bike-riding until we received the gift of bike-riding. There is, therefore, a bodily rootedness to all knowing. Everything we have come to know starts with our bodies. Sherlock provides us with a similar paradigm. He gathers seemingly opaque clues and trusts himself to a hitherto unknown pattern. As he does so, reality breaks in, and the pieces of the puzzle come together transformatively.


Truth is Personal

Truth is profoundly personal because reality is personal. We are made in the image of a Triune God who has shaped us for knowing truly, but not exhaustively. All humans are fallen, finite and limited creatures. Yet, we possess the capacity to know truly; not because we are competent and capable enough in order to create it ourselves, but because God is gracious enough to reveal truth to us. He does this definitively by sending the eternal son in the power of the Spirit to earth in the person of Jesus Christ. The eternal son takes on flesh and dwells amongst us.


Jesus is Truth

The quest for objective and subjective knowledge is revealed in the person and work of Jesus Christ. He does away with our false dichotomies. Modernity affirmed objective and discoverable knowledge, while postmodernity affirms subjective, self-creating knowledge. In Christ, we see objective truth subjectively displayed in the incarnation (for more, please see my own book, MORE>Truth). The theologian John Stott once said that Christianity bypasses the modernist/postmodernist debate by making truth personal – Jesus is Truth with flesh on.

Jesus said: “I am the way, the truth and the life, no one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). On this, the missiologist Lesslie Newbigin states: “…though we do not know what lies ahead, we are on a track we can trust…This is what is made possible only by the death and resurrection of Jesus.” We do not know what lies ahead in life, yet, in the words of Dutch watchmaker Corrie Ten Boom, who facilitated the escape of many Jews from the Nazi Holocaust, we can “trust an unknown future to a known God.” All because Jesus is the way, the truth and the life.

Jesus’ absolute truth claim sounds like another power-play, another attempt to crush, dominate and restrict. And yet, it is the most inclusive-exclusive truth claim any one will ever encounter. The Kingdom is open to anyone, regardless of background, socio-economic status, sexual-orientation, country, class, race, language, etc., the list goes on. Furthermore, Chatraw and Allen in Apologetics at the Cross cite the historian Larry Hurtado, a specialist in Christian cultures, in making the case that what set Christianity apart from the early ancient world is its “transethnic and translocal” quality “addressing males and females of all social levels.”

The Truth will set you free

At the time of writing, I am currently sat in an idyllic getaway home off of the coast of Norfolk, and I cannot help but recall the plotline to Frozen 2, which I just so happened to see yesterday! (You have to see it.) As you can probably recall from the ebullient singing of small children, there is an iconic moment in Frozen (1) where Elsa creates her own ice-palace in order to establish a place where she can be truly herself – really free. She sings with aplomb “Let it go, they can’t hold you back anymore…” Her freedom creates an ice palace of isolation and it does not take long to see the destructive consequences of this in the film.

**Spoiler Alert**

In Frozen 2, that abiding existential question, ‘who am I?’ and ‘why doesn’t this feel right?’ continues to haunt Elsa. That is until, one day, she starts to hear a voice and so she sets out to follow it. What ensues is a transformative journey of encounter and revelation. Elsa goes from singing ‘let it go’ to ‘show yourself’. As she humbly submits herself to reality, reality discloses itself. Elsa learns who she really is. She finds true freedom in humble submission to her nature. Elsa is no longer struggling to create herself ex-nihilo. Instead, she receives the gift of who she is, her true identity, and she is set free.

Minus the singing reindeer, this is what life in Jesus is like. We receive our identity as children of God, and in so doing, we are granted the gift to be more ourselves, not less.

When Jesus says the words “And the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32) to his disciples, he is outlining freedom from the bondage of slavery (8:34). Often, we consider slavery as an external force subduing us, but what if slavery is also bondage within and to ourselves? This is such a slavery from which we cannot emancipate ourselves. We require one more powerful than ourselves, who is also able to step into our condition, in order to free us. This is a person who uses his power to stoop and to serve, not to manipulate and to spin. But, it begins with truth-telling, in saying there is a predicament from which we need rescue.

Os Guiness picks up on this in a statement to the Veritas Forum at Stanford:

If truth is dead and knowledge is only power, all that remains is a world of lies, hype and spin… But truth matters supremely because in the end, without truth there is no freedom. Truth, in fact, is freedom, and the only way to live free is to become a person of truth. Living in truth is the secret of living free.

Such free living in the truth comes at a price. As John Steinbeck reminds us in his magnificent work, East of Eden, “An unbelieved truth can hurt a man much more than a lie. It takes great courage to back truth unacceptable to our times. There’s a punishment for it, and it’s usually crucifixion.” As Willard wrote earlier, as opposed to the sceptics, are we willing to be social non-conformists in our willingness to live in the Truth?

Humanity’s search for truth is ultimately found in Jesus. He is the one who is able to account for the longings of our hearts and the structure to the framework of reality. It as we encounter him through the pages of Scripture that, like Elsa, we may hear the voice of one leading us to life. Little Lucy from C.S. Lewis’ Narnia Chronicles experiences a similar event:

“Lucy woke out of the deepest sleep you can imagine, with the feeling that the voice she liked best in the world had been calling her name.” Isn’t this the kind of Truth we desire? Truth who knows completely, yet loves us deeply, calling our name, calling us home.

Kristi Mair headshot

Kristi Mair is an author, academic and speaker. She holds a BA in Philosophy and Theology and an MA in Philosophy of Religion and Ethics. Formerly with UCCF, she is currently combining PhD studies in philosophical theology with a role as Research and Pastoral Support Fellow at Oak Hill College, where she lectures in philosophy. Kristi continues to speak regularly at campus-based and local church events, as well providing training in persuasive evangelism. Kristi’s first book, More>Truth, was published by IVP in 2019

Further suggested reading:

Introductory Level
More>Truth, Kristi Mair. 
Little Manual For Knowing, Esther Meek.
A Wilderness of Mirrors, Mark Meynell.
Evangelism in a Sceptical World, Sam Chan.

Introductory to Medium Level
Saving Truth, Abdu Murray. 

Medium Level
Evangelicals and Truth, Peter Hicks.
Proper Confidence, Lesslie Newbigin. 
The Tacit Dimension, Michael Polanyi.

[1] Extract taken from The Veritas Forum at Ohio State University.

[2] Carson, Don. Can We Be Sure About Anything?, 121.

Why Would God Allow Me to Have Depression?

by Solas

Mental ill health is an increasing challenge for many people. Many of us currently struggle with varying levels of anxiety or depression, and those of us who don’t currently might well do so in the future. How are we to make sense of it all? How can we reconcile the seeming conflict between a loving God and a God who might allow us to walk through the dark experiences of mental illness? Is it evidence that God doesn’t exist or, if he does exist, doesn’t care? In this episode of Short/Answers Gareth Black offers some introductory thoughts to this important and sensitive area of human experience.

Share

Please share this video widely with friends or family and for more Short Answers videos, visit solas-cpc.org/shortanswers/, subscribe to our YouTube channel or visit us on Twitter Instagram or Facebook.

Support

Short Answers is a viewer-supported video series: if you enjoy them, please help us continue to make them by donating to Solas. Visit our Donate page and choose “Digital Media Fund” under the Campaign/Appeal button.