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Truth is important. None of us want to believe things that are untrue. I certainly don’t. So, you might wonder what I say when I’m asked why I am a Christian. When this occurs, I usually say something like this:

  • Christianity makes sense scientifically (with the fine-tuning of the cosmos to the level of multi-trillionth’s).
  • Christianity makes sense morally. (Jesus’ teaching on morality has never been improved on.)
  • Christianity makes sense sociologically. (Wherever authentic Christianity has been adopted, it has brought civility and transformed societies for their good.)
  • Christianity makes sense historically. (Christianity is not a philosophy. It arose fully formed as a result of historical events surrounding Jesus’ life – events that can be forensically examined.)
  • Christianity makes sense personally, for I know God to be living and active within my life.

Scientists have discovered that scientific truth exists, but it takes a bit of work to uncover it. Similarly, theological truth exists, but it too takes a bit of work to uncover it. Those who are lazy or proud will never discover it. Jesus taught the importance of having a posture of humility towards God when he taught that God’s revelation is best understood by children (see: Matthew 11:25.) In saying this, Jesus was not advocating childish, immature faith, he was pointing to the need for a soft heart rather than a soft head! Certainly, those who want to ‘not believe’, will never discover God’s truth.

So, I invite you to be open in your quest for truth. If you are, Jesus gives you this promise: “If you honestly seek, you will find” (Matthew 7:7).

And here’s a poem:

I am content with my position, please be quiet.
I am content, 

except sometimes, when I look at the night sky. 
I am content with my morality, 
except when I know I’ve sinned…
which I do not accept is real, 
until I see the hurt in others, and I ache inside.

I am content with my position, don’t bother me. 
I have reviewed the clichés and convictions
I’ve chosen to wrap around myself… 
and they are sound, 
except that they are mine, and not God’s…
who I don’t accept is real –
except in those moments when I ache for hope.

Indigenous Australians can teach us a thing or two. They have the custom of regularly returning to country to reaffirm their identity and their connection with place. They do this by retelling the stories of their origins – stories reinforced by song and dance. Time and time again, throughout their lives, they gather to remind themselves of who they are and how they came to be.

Tell me: where do you go to hear the story of you?

It seems to me that many in the West are spiritual orphans. They don’t know who they are, where they come from, why they are or what their meaning is. The indigenous Pastor, Ray Minniecon, tell us in his article “Healing Country”,  “Most non-indigenous peoples don’t know who they really are. And if they don’t know who they are, how can they connect to where they are?”[1] He laments this… because this lack of connection leads to a lack of respect for the land and its degradation for commercial gain.

The Western atheist, who sits in the middle of conforming media opinion, doesn’t know their story. And this is a pity, for as I’ve heard an indigenous Australian say: “If you don’t know your story, you are still a child.” Because spiritual orphans don’t know their origin, they have no identity. A woman punk rocker said in Gene Veith’s book, Postmodern Times: “I belong to the Blank Generation. I have no beliefs. I belong to no community, tradition or anything like that. I’m lost in this vast, vast world. I belong nowhere. I have absolutely no identity.[2]

If you ask a Western atheist about their origins, they simply shrug and say they don’t know. When asked why the universe exists. Again they shrug and say that it has probably always existed – in defiance of all of human experience that tells us that everything is linear, i.e. everything has a beginning and an end. If you ask them what their meaning is, they might quote Nietzsche, Foucault or Sartre and say they have no meaning… and because they have no meaning or purpose, there is no such thing as morality… and they therefore allow dissolute living to slowly destroy them and those who are close to them.

Spiritual orphans have no ceremonies to point them back to the beginning – to tell them why they exist. You might argue that indigenous ceremonies exist, but this doesn’t mean that their dreamtime stories are true. They might to our Western ears simply be fanciful delusions conjured up to fill the vacuum of meaning and understanding. But now that we are enlightened and mature, we simply need to “suck it up” and live the reality of our meaninglessness as co-operatively as possible.

However, we need to realise that aboriginal thinking is not the wooden empiricist thinking of the West. It is metaphor and story. The stories may not have the ‘right’ science, but their main purpose is to acknowledge the truth of meaning, morality and connectedness – and the reality of a causative mind. As such, it is a pattern of belief that satisfies. If a Westerner asks if a story is true, it is seen as being crude. It is more important that a story has meaning… and that it be interesting.

The atheist’s thinking that there is no beginning, no meaning and no story might be defensible if the universe didn’t reek of precision and order… which nothing can cause other than “mind”. So, perhaps it is time to stop being a spiritual orphan and to seek that “Mind”… as that Mind has come seeking you as Jesus in order that you may know your story.


[1]       Ray Minniecon Healing Country – Genesis 1 and 2, Tearfund https://www.tearfund.org.au/stories/healing-country(viewed 4th August, 2021).

[2]       Gene Veith, Postmodern Times(Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1994), 71.

The leading atheistic philosopher in the early twentieth century, Bertrand Russell, was once asked what he would say to God by way of explanation when asked why he didn’t believe in him. His reply was: “Not enough evidence; not enough evidence”… which raises the really good question: “What would enough evidence look like?”

What if God answered this question by creating a universe of unimaginable wonder – a universe constructed according to the rules of very advanced mathematics? Would that cause our atheists to accept the probable existence of God? And what if the universe had many factors finely tuned to a degree of many, many trillionths of exactitude so as to allow life to develop on at least one planet? Could atheists reasonably dismiss that as coincidental? How many trillionths would an atheist need before he or she reviewed their position?

In Bertrand Russell’s case, he simply refused to look at the evidence. During a 1948 debate with the Jesuit philosopher, Father Frederick Copleston, he said: “I do think the notion of the world having an explanation is a mistake. I don’t see why one would expect it to have.”[1] This comment from a leading academic is an extraordinary one. Russell’s answer to the existence of mind-boggling complexity, codes, and fine-tuning of the universe, was simply not to ask any questions about it. This, I submit, can in no way be construed as intellectual honesty.

Let’s muse for a moment: What if Bertrand Russell was persuaded that God existed? He might still claim that it was impossible to actually know that God.

But, but, but… What if God came to Earth 2,000 years ago to show us what God was like – and to die to pay the price for our sins which would otherwise disbar us from him? What if God did that? Would that be enough to persuade Bertrand to accept God’s love and lordship?

Quite honestly, it is difficult to know what else God could have done to invite an atheist to respond to his love with his or her own. What else could God have done that would also preserve the need for faith to be freely chosen rather than forced? God knew full well that a forced relationship is not an authentic one.

Is that what Bertrand Russell wants – a totally unambiguous revelation of God’s identity and glory, a self-revelation even clearer than that revealed by the universe, and clearer than that revealed by Jesus? Does Bertrand want God to force himself on humanity? Because if so, it is not going to happen. God won’t force anything. He invites faith with a language that is only heard by the humble – in the language of the cosmos, and through the person of Jesus.

Not enough evidence? Really?

What do you think?


[1]       Reported in: Howard P. Kainz, The Existence of God and the faith-instinct, (Cranbury, NJ: Rosemont Publishing, 2010), 21.

The British classics scholar, A.W. Verral is reputed to have said that the chief disease from which civilizations died was their low view of women.[1]

Other scholars, such as the British historian, Arnold Toynbee, tell us that civilisations don’t die from being attacked from the outside; rather, they commit suicide when they rot from the inside through losing faith in the hope and moral certainties they once held.

If you put these two assertions together: it is not difficult to conclude that Western civilisation is in the rotting phase… and one of the chief casualties of this is women, as the dreadful statistics on domestic violence and abuse of women in the workplace attest.

And I don’t like it.

I am old enough to make a claim that may seem outrageous to the protesting libertarians of today, and it is this: Fifty years ago, there was more respect and honour accorded to women.   True, a lot less women were in leadership positions then… and I totally applaud the fact that this is being rectified.  But I grieve at the ‘brave new world’ our daughters now have to navigate.

If social researchers are correct, a woman has a fifty-fifty chance of having sex after a first date with a man who has taken her to dinner.   So what sort of mental pressure is now being loaded onto a woman before she goes out to socialise?

Immodesty has been touted as sexual freedom, but it has actually encouraged sexual objectification – as our execrable TV reality shows demonstrate.

There’s now an expectation that women should work to help pay off the mortgage… but this has backfired for many who secretly wish they were less busy and had more time for their children.   They don’t want to feel guilty at delegating the upbringing of their children to strangers.

Political correctness now requires us to have unisex toilets.   Women now have to cope with men peeing on the seat and writing obscenities on the wall.  And then there’s the issue of changing rooms…

Men are now competing in women’s sports at Olympic level.   There’s a ‘trans’ New Zealand weight lifter, Laurel Hubbard, who is able to compete as a woman because she’s managed to get her testosterone level down so that it is only four times that of a normal biological woman.   But you daren’t complain at its injustice because it will be seen as hate speech.   I wonder what you feel like when you reflect on these things in quiet times… when you allow yourself to converse with your soul.   Has it worked out well?

Although it hasn’t always played out fantastically in history, I submit that the best friend ofwomen is the Judeo-Christian ethic… for if that is trashed, so is a person’s sacredness.   (Rape was part of the culture of the Greek pantheon of gods; and the Communist leader, Pol Pot, sanctioned the rape and torture of women during his reign of terror.)   The institutional expression of Christianity has not always worked out well for women, but here’s the thing: Christianity has always managed to reform itself by returning to the foundational principles of Jesus Christ.

It’s worth remembering that Jesus involved women in the key moments of his life – notably at his death and resurrection.   And women featured significantly in the early church during the time of the apostle Paul.    He mentions several influential women in the Roman church including Phoebe (who is described as diakanos from which we get the word deacon, and Junias (usually a female name) who is described as being an apostle (Romans 16:7).  Paul also mentions a bunch of other influential women including Priscilla, Mary, Tryphena, Tryphosa, Persis and Julia (Romans 16:3-16).   Chloe seemingly led a Christian household in Corinth (1 Corinthians 1:11) and Lydia one in Philippi (Acts 16:14-15).   Both Priscilla and Aquila taught Apollos in Ephesus (Acts 18:26), whilst the daughters of Philip were prophetesses (Acts 21:8-9).   Paul made it quite clear that women and men are equal before God (Galatians 3:26-29).  Where Paul advocated modest behaviour from women, it was always in relation to what defined social propriety at the time.

These facts didn’t stop Richard Dawkins (notorious for his abuse of truth) from making the outrageous claim that Christianity was “loathing of women”![2]   Perhaps someone can whisper truth into his ear at some stage.

Christianity was seen as so emancipating for women in the third century that it caused Celsus to write scathingly about Christianity saying it was only suitable for women and slaves.[3]   What a glorious recommendation! Perhaps Australia needs to look to Jesus if it wants to take the sacredness and honour of women seriously – because the law of the jungle is not working out well.


[1] It has not been possible to city the original source of this statement – although it has been widely quoted.   You can find the quote cited in: R.L. Deffinbaugh, “The New Testament Church—The Role of Women”, Bible.org. (2004) – available at: https://bible.org/seriespage/6-new-testament-church-role-women   (Accessed on 14 February 2018).

[2]       Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion(New York: Bantam Books, 2006), p. 37.

[3]       Origin, Contra Celsus, Book 3, Chapter 59.

I am continually appalled at my level of ignorance and fearful of the potholes it provides for me to fall into.

And yet, there is a shy conviction within me that enables me not to be completely transfixed by the coming headlights of a fast-approaching atheistic society.

There are truths that are worth staking my life on. And the reason I can stake my life on them is because these truths are bigger than me. They are bigger than those I could have cooked up in my mind – and as such, these truths are beyond the tyrannous gravity of ego. They are eternal truths. They are magisterial… and they have stood the test of time.

There is therefore a real sense in which I understand that I am a custodian of something very precious; something lent to me for the brief season I am alive on the planet. And it is in every sense, good.

When modern philosophers tried to dispense with it, they didn’t do very well. The nineteenth century German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, advocated the unfettered expression of personal power, a power untroubled by notions of truth or empathy. He became mad for the last ten years of his life before dying at the age of 55 – probably as a result of syphilis contracted during his sexual escapades.

The French philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, similarly trashed the idea of conventional truth and morality, scorning it as bourgeois. His thinking helped give momentum to Marxism’s deconstruction of Western civilization (and Christianity in particular) in the mid twentieth century, so that it could impose it own odious form of dehumanising totalitarianism. In the latter part of his life, Sartre became conflicted and disillusioned.A month before his death, he wrote these words in his journal:

‘… with this wretched gathering which our planet now is, despair returns to tempt me. The idea that there is no purpose, only petty personal ends for which we fight! We make little revolutions, but there is no goal for mankind. One cannot think of such things. They tempt you incessantly; especially if you are old . . . the world seems ugly, bad and without hope. There, that’s the cry of despair of an old man who will die in despair. But that’s exactly what I resist. I know I shall die in hope. But that hope needs a foundation.

The French 20thcentury philosopher, Paul-Michel Foucault, is being lionised in many of our university’s philosophy departments. Foucault’s philosophy formed the basis for postmodernism and its trashing of all forms of truth. It brought him no joy, however, as Foucault’s mental landscape was characterised by the macabre, sado-masochism, homosexuality and rather distressingly, paedophilia. He often contemplated suicide. His sado-masochistic and homosexual escapades resulted in him dying of AIDs in 1984 at the age of 57.

Foucault was a lost soul who similarly didn’t thrive outside the safety barriers Christianity provided.

I have to wonder if Foucault really does represent the ‘gold standard’ for civilised philosophical discourse worthy of our next generation of societal opinion leaders. His answers to philosophy’s greatest questions of meaning, morality and destiny offer very little that is good, just or true.

No one is getting on without true truth… and no one is getting on very well without God.

So, may I ask? …How are you getting on?

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