The Laborious Study of Anything

 

I recently heard a quote, and I might not get it exactly right, but here is the gist of it: Laborious study does not lead to disbelief (or maybe it was unbelief); It comes through a love of sin.

From the nature of the quote, assumption could be made that the reference was to belief, or the suspension of it, in the God of the Bible. I don't recall if the word used was disbelief or unbelief. I’m sure it wasn’t nonbelief. In the context of the quote, disbelief seems the correct choice.

But is there really any difference?

From Merriam-Webster:

Disbelief: the mental rejection of something as untrue

Unbelief: incredulity or skepticism especially in matters of religious faith

Nonbelief: absence or lack of belief, especially : absence or lack of religious belief

When I wrote Our Town Atheist, I included this book cover tagline: Can an unbeliever bring revival to a small town in the Bible belt? With Adam Bender’s luck, it could happen.

My publisher changed the wording, and rightly so, from unbeliever to nonbeliever. Not that Adam Bender isn’t incredulous and skeptical, but nonbeliever is the better characterization of an atheist.

The faint disparities between the three words give them leeway in everyday use. But not on a book cover—that’s why God made editors. My concern, at least for this moment, is not the un or non, but the disbelief that comes from the study of something. It might be science, or sociology, or modern culture or politics. It might even come from studying the Bible. A person can believe in love and forgiveness and grace, but falter when it comes to judgment and wrath and the absolute validity of the sin problem. It’s easy to say you’re a believer until you come across some words you just can’t believe. If it’s an easy decision and shut the book and walk away, believer was never your label.

And your belief was shallow if the laborious study of anything brought you to disbelief. You were an unbeliever trying to believe, but you didn't. Or a nonbeliever trying to prove yourself right.

So, how does the love of sin lead to disbelief? You said you believed and you lived like a believer, but the knowledge you think you've gained has led to disbelief. Where’s the sin in that? And how can anyone tell you that you love sin?

You didn’t become a bad person, just one who no longer accepts the notion that God is real. Rejection of God, who gladly reveals His nature and character through His word, is the sin of rebellion. You haven’t lost your compassion; you simply unshackled yourself from outdated ideas. Elevating your own intellect above the wisdom bestowed by God results in the sin of pride. Now your disbelief (rejection of the truth) morphs into unbelief (skepticism) which lands you where you think you want to be: you’re a nonbeliever, an atheist. Because you loved sin? Yes. Because you loved a world ripped loose from God more than a world united with God.

A young, church-going friend of mine recently declared that due to her laborious (she didn’t really use that word) study of science, she is now an atheist. I won’t correct her if she interchanges the words disbelief, unbelief, and nonbelief. I won’t scold her about her studies. I will tell her I’ve studied science longer and harder that she has, and I've never found that God was not there. I will remind her the Holy Spirit leads us to the truth, every time. I will encourage her, and love her, and tell her with a smile and a pat on the back this one thing: Atheism is temporary.

 

 

The Crutch of Religion, and What We Really Want

Anyone landing on this blog can surmise that I’m a Christian. Well, I hope they can. I don't try to hide it. But if you’re not of that persuasion, truth is, my faith is no more real than yours. Even if religion is not for you, we are no different. I believe in something. You believe in something. God. Prophets. Positivity. Energy. Nature. Money. Power. Politics. Science. Culture. Entertainment. Relationships. Self. My faith drives me, moves me onward. It sustains me. So does yours.

I’ve embraced something worth living for, worth dying for. And maybe you've made the same commitment. Maybe not. When it all proves too much of a task, you might want to let it go. At times, I feel the same tug. We really aren’t any different. We’re human beings foundering in chaos, clinging to something we hope will save us, or else, denying we need saving. Either way, you and I are the same.

The Christian holds to the promise of eternal life through the forgiveness of sins and the grace offered by the gospel of Jesus Christ. The Muslim accepts one God, creator and sustainer, and wholly surrenders to God’s will. The Jew believes in the one true God of the Universe, giver of the law. Other world religions build their faith on the natural inclination of mankind to offer worship, to find purpose. Even the non-believer desires something that lasts, views life with longing eyes, seeks the meaning of it all, even if it ends in discovering there is no meaning at all.

So, my faith isn't any different than your faith, or lack thereof. We all search for  something. In my case, I took up Christianity and stuck with it. It’s a faith group, a belief system. One anybody can join. Just find yourself a good church and plug in. But if you prefer, find a good mosque, or synagogue. Or get yourself a little Buddha statue. Or something. Or worship the moon. Or join in a social movement and see if that does it for you. Plenty of those to choose from right now.

Sarcasm? Little bit. I don't mean to poke fun at religion. Here’s the thing: Clutching the crutch of religion, in the end, makes little difference. It might offer peace of mind, a better life. And moral boundaries are good for the individual and for society. But any belief system can get you there. As it is, my ideas of good and bad and right and wrong might pit against yours at start a disagreement. Or a war. It’s been known to happen.

However, while my religiosity is no better or worse than yours, the One who called me to faith is different. The power of the gospel saves a soul from hell, redeems a generation, rescues a planet, and provides a way for all people everywhere to realize true freedom, to live unburdened in the presence of their Creator. No cost. No sacrifice. The cost has been paid, the sacrifice made. The calling? I’m no different than you, except that I answered when He called me. Think He isn’t calling you?  If you’re reading this, maybe He is.

What we all want, whether we admit it or not, is love. We want to feel it and express it. But it’s always an unfulfilled dream away. It doesn’t live up to our expectations. It’s fleeting. It does not satisfy.

Only one love doesn’t disappoint, no matter who you are. Regardless of your religion, your dislike of religion, the object of your affection, or the surety of your well managed plans, this is it. As the saying goes, we’re all in this together. And this is all that matters:

 

 In this way the love of God was revealed to us, that God sent His only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him. In this is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.

 I John 4: 9,10

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.

John 3:16,17

Are You a Practical Atheist?

Stephen Charnock, a clergyman who lived in the 1600s, said this: “Men may have atheistic hearts without atheistic heads.”

In other words, a man who only believes in his mind that there is a God may not agree in his heart.

An overt atheist, one fully committed to his unbelief, might indulge in moments of speculation, even though in his head he knows better. I once knew an atheist who asked me to pray for him. In his head, he was an atheist, and in his heart, too. But moments of despair or fear, even enlightenment or amazement, may have led him to consider the prospect of God.

I’ve also known a few who’ve asked for prayer, not expecting that it will be done, or if it is done that it won’t accomplish much. The request from this sort of person is not so much a longing for God, but a grasp at pity. No answer is needed, only acknowledgement that the person’s life is not the way he wants it to be. He’s been cosmically cheated out of what he thought was due him.

In his head, he believes. He assumes God is there, or at least he hopes it. He follows certain rules, but others he ignores because they aren’t easy for him. Maybe he goes to church. He gives something of his money and time and attention. In his mind, he finds the notion of God necessary. But in his heart, God is unknown.

A fool says in his heart, “There is no God.” Psalm 14:1

The overt atheist denies God because he sees no option. Nothing proves God’s existence to him. In both heart and mind, God is absent. But an atheist in practice—a practical atheist—finds it hard to let go of what God has become to him. The head belief may be built on tradition. It might come from a childhood acceptance of a religious order. Or it could just be fear of the proverbial zap by a lightning bolt for admitting doubt. The practical atheist says there is a God, but he has no desire, or ability for that matter, to love Him or live for Him. He may call on divine rescue from time to time, but he’s practically noncommittal about the ultimate rescue, even if he says otherwise.

Who’s to blame for the practical atheist’s predicament? Did he attend a church which did not fervently preach the gospel? Was he wrongly led to believe that God would grant him a life of good wishes and happy endings? Perhaps he clings to God in his head because deep in his heart he wants God to be true, but he has never experienced God’s truth. So he goes on living as if there is no God, and what a fool he is for it. He lives as he pleases, not caring for God or others. Not abiding in God’s word, even though he says he agrees with it. Not filled with gratitude, but with self-indulgence.

If he keeps up his act within the church, he might be spotted by a discerning brother. He might be outed by a gospel-centered body of believers. He might be called by God. If so, God will win him, and his practical atheism will let him go.

The overt atheist who asks me for prayer will get prayer. Whether or not his request is genuine, I don’t know. The practical atheist who asks for prayer will get it too. Whether or not his request is genuine, I don’t know. God knows, and God is able to rescue heads and hearts from both atheist camps. From the one that declares there is no God, and from the one that presumes there is a God.