Lies, damned lies, and … (#2)

At the end of my previous piece about empiricism and ethics, I suggested that there were a number of implications that needed to be drawn out—the most important of which, for my money, involving the way we present the truth of the gospel (both inside and outside of Christian circles).

Because we live in a world that hails empiricism as the only true authority, we are constantly tempted to pepper our preaching with statistics about how well biblical truth works in an attempt to bolster our message. For example, we might cite research that suggests that Christians enjoy longer, happier marriages, or that people of faith generally live healthier lives. The problem is that our search for respectability leads us to a very dangerous place because it asks people to believe on the basis of an authority apart from the Scriptures. Our search for respectability undermines the appropriate foundation. Should I believe in Jesus because he will (at least, with a greater statistical likelihood) make my marriage happier, or because he is the Son of God who died and rose again as the Saviour and Lord of the world?

The problem is actually compounded when we begin to compare the appeal of our gospel with the promises Christ made to his followers. If the gospel is the promise of a better life, how do Jesus’ words fit in, or, for that matter, the apostle Paul’s?

“If anyone would come after me, let him ​deny himself and ​take up his cross and follow me.” (Mark 8:34)

“‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, ​they will also persecute you.” (John 15:20)

“… ​through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22).

“Indeed, all who desire to ​live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted …” (2 Tim 3:12)

The problem is we enter into the statistical battle because we are determined to make Christianity look good on the world’s terms. But following Jesus isn’t good for our comfort—if by ‘comfort’, we mean no conflict or general happiness. Knowing Jesus does bring many benefits (peace with God, joy in righteousness and hope, a clear conscience as we learn godliness) and even temporal benefits—

“Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life. (Mark 10:29-30)

—but they are benefits that can only be understood from within a framework of faith. If all Christianity does is make your life feel better, quite frankly, your life feels quite good now, so why bother changing?

What do we need to do? I suspect we need to work out how to begin engaging the non-Christian world on its own terms, but without giving ground to their ungodly presuppositions. It’s not wrong in and of itself to talk about the effects of Christianity on life in this world. (In fact, we must talk about these things.) But we need to keep showing how the promises of God in Christ reshape our whole picture of what is good in the world. So next time you go to quote statistics in your preaching (either from the pulpit or across the back fence), ask yourself what presuppositions are being slipped into the conversation. And think about how to keep delivering a truly Christian world view, not just one that might be convenient for your neighbour. After all, Jesus called on people to repent and call him Lord; that is not about convenience or comfort.