During the summer of 2011, I studied in Jerusalem for two months learning Biblical Hebrew and traveling in Israel. It was so fascinating for me to meet and talk with so many educated and "simple" people about the nature of their beliefs. You can literally find a person representing every major world religion in Jerusalem, and you will also find large congregations of churches you have never even heard of. I learned so much by engaging these religious people in open dialogue. I LOVED it.
Following my time in Israel, I attended a philosophy seminar in Kirchberg am Wechsel, Austria, for around a week. The seminar was about a book called "On Certainty," written by the philosopher Ludwig van Wittgenstein. The book deals mainly with the usage of "know" and "certainty" in our language and the logical role they play in our speech. Beyond that, what I found to be the most enjoyable part of my stay in Austria was the completely new environment. I quickly discovered that I was the only religious person at the summer seminar - every other person I encountered, including the two professors running the classes, were "devout" atheists. If there were other believers, they certainly never made themselves known.
This environment was both challenging and exciting. I was able to talk about faith and God with so many people. At one point, during a dinner, I think I was debating around 10 students at the same time. They were from across the world, though the majority came from Europe. All of them were extremely bright and intelligent, and most of them were in graduate programs for philosophy. When I spoke with these other students, most of them were very respectful and kind, though a few were hostile. My experiences with them, contrary to what some might think, were truly profound. Many of them asked me questions that I had never really considered, or old questions that I saw in a new light. I wrote down a lot of the questions they threw at me, and many of these questions I have yet to answer. They really opened my eyes to a lot of issues that I hadn't even considered, and I'm grateful to them for that.
Nevertheless, I found that these discussions confirmed and revivified my faith rather than destroyed it. They really taught me things about God, faith, and belief that I had never considered. They also showed me the value of having a thoughtful and deep understanding of your own faith and the absolute need for religious people to defend themselves. It surprised me how many of the students didn't really understand religion. They dismissed it so quickly because they felt it was so intellectually weak and irrelevant. I think that if they had encountered more religious people who could speak to their concerns, reasonably and intelligently, they would be more likely to believe. I was convinced that there was a role for people like me--a believer, philosopher, historian, and skeptic. I could really do some good by speaking up because religion can be intelligently defended.
Let me give you a sense of the types of questions I was able to address. Most all of them were of two types: (1) they were good questions that I felt I should ask myself and consider; or (2) they were caricatures of religion or terribly misinformed. Let me give an example of both to explain what I mean. At one point, I was discussing why I thought a belief in God was important. One of the students there asked me, "My life is great, I am happy, and I feel that my life has meaning. Why do I need God? What does a belief in God give me that non-belief cannot?" Rather than feeling that his question was ill-conceived or devastating, I thought it was a wonderful question! I wish everyone would ask the same thing: why should I believe in God? What can a belief in God do for me? I gave him some thoughts about the subject, but I do not claim to have a definitive answer. I wrote this question down so that I could ask it to myself over and over again: why is it so important to believe in God? What difference does it make? By asking myself this question I found my faith to become deeper and more progressive. Deeper in the sense that I started to understand how important my belief in God truly was; progressive because I felt that I could continually ask myself this question, day after day, and find new ways that my belief in God, my relationship with him, affected my life for the better. What a great question.
In addition, my atheist friends asked me some questions that I was surprised to hear. They said things such as, "You just believe in God blindly, you follow him blindly, you have no evidence." To this, I responded that I have plenty of evidence for God and that I didn't believe anything blindly. On the contrary, my entire faith is based on questions: I ask questions of God, he responds. My faith isn't blind, it's a trust. I have a relationship with God. I have religious experiences where I feel his presence, his love, his counsel, his protection, and his care. That is my most basic evidence.
While answering these questions, I discovered that many of these students, who were extremely bright and intelligent people, had never really encountered a person who could clearly and reasonably articulate their reasons for believing. Many of their questions were surprisingly easy to answer (though not all of them!). For example, many of the students also challenged my belief in God by referencing evolution. They said that evolution disproved God and all need for religion. I told them that evolution did nothing of the sort. Even if I accept evolution as true, it in no way disproves God's existence. In fact, the bible can affirm evolution without undermining its message. To show an example, I quoted Genesis 1:1 in Hebrew, explaining how the verb ברא, which we normally translate as "create," can also be translated as formed or fashioned, as a carpenter forms a chair from wood. This understanding means that God's creation of mankind didn't necessary happen in an instant or out of nothing. Rather, he formed man from existing material. Perhaps this refers to evolution and the process of natural selection, perhaps not. The point is that evolution really doesn't have much to say about God's existence, and so it could not be used to disprove his existence.
In addition, most of the students had never encountered a Mormon or even heard of a Mormon. This was particularly surprising, but it also gave me a real opportunity to explain LDS beliefs. At one point, someone challenged me by stating that the bible had clear historical and other types of errors within it. How, they asked, could I possibly believe that such a book was infallible? To my delight, I responded that the bible, and any other work of scripture, is not infallible! They all have errors; that is not the point. They still represent great, inspired people who wrote down eternal truths about God, salvation, and the savior Jesus Christ. This response really took them off guard. This seemingly knock-down argument against the bible simply didn't mean anything to me. I never took scripture to be inerrant, so why would errors bother me?
The conference lasted a week, and I had a lot of great opportunities to question, defend, and explain both my faith and religion in general. I learned some wonderful things, which I will try to summarize:
(1) Atheists can ask wonderful questions that can really deepen my understanding of belief, challenge my beliefs, and make me appreciate my faith. These questions can bring me closer to God and can bring me closer to the truth.
(2) I do not have, nor do I claim to have, all the answers. Many of the questions posed by my friends were good ones that I have no answer for, though I want one. Nonetheless, I do claim to have some important, eternal truths, and those truths are defensible.
(3) Many bright, intelligent people have never really understood religious belief or have never encountered a religious person who could articulate their beliefs reasonably and persuasively.
(4) Learning, questioning, seeking, and critiquing are all wonderful methods to deepen and defend our faith. If our beliefs are true, they will stand up to honest questioning.
(5) There is a real need for religious people to educate themselves and defend what they hold dear. Many people, intelligent people, reject religion because they have never really seen its worth. We need to educate ourselves and think about our beliefs so we can explain them, defend them, and show the world their value.
(6) Mormons, in particular, can solve many of the problems that non-believers have with religion. We do not believe that scriptures are infallible, we do not believe that prophets are infallible, and we do not accept many of the traditional creeds that non-believers find so offensive. In addition, our religion, like others, is founded upon questions, upon seeking answers, and upon finding truth. We have a great deal to offer the world, and we should be more diligent in our studies and more vocal in our defense.
"I can, of course, put myself into the sectarian scientist's attitude, and imagine vividly that the world of sensations and of scientific laws and objects may be all. But whenever I do this, I hear that inward monitor of which W. K. Clifford once wrote, whispering the word 'bosh!' Humbug is humbug, even though it bear the scientific name, and the total expression of human experience, as I view it objectively, invincibly urges me beyond the narrow 'scientific' bounds. Assuredly, the real world is of a different temperament,--more intricately built than physical science allows." (William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience)
Following my time in Israel, I attended a philosophy seminar in Kirchberg am Wechsel, Austria, for around a week. The seminar was about a book called "On Certainty," written by the philosopher Ludwig van Wittgenstein. The book deals mainly with the usage of "know" and "certainty" in our language and the logical role they play in our speech. Beyond that, what I found to be the most enjoyable part of my stay in Austria was the completely new environment. I quickly discovered that I was the only religious person at the summer seminar - every other person I encountered, including the two professors running the classes, were "devout" atheists. If there were other believers, they certainly never made themselves known.
This environment was both challenging and exciting. I was able to talk about faith and God with so many people. At one point, during a dinner, I think I was debating around 10 students at the same time. They were from across the world, though the majority came from Europe. All of them were extremely bright and intelligent, and most of them were in graduate programs for philosophy. When I spoke with these other students, most of them were very respectful and kind, though a few were hostile. My experiences with them, contrary to what some might think, were truly profound. Many of them asked me questions that I had never really considered, or old questions that I saw in a new light. I wrote down a lot of the questions they threw at me, and many of these questions I have yet to answer. They really opened my eyes to a lot of issues that I hadn't even considered, and I'm grateful to them for that.
Nevertheless, I found that these discussions confirmed and revivified my faith rather than destroyed it. They really taught me things about God, faith, and belief that I had never considered. They also showed me the value of having a thoughtful and deep understanding of your own faith and the absolute need for religious people to defend themselves. It surprised me how many of the students didn't really understand religion. They dismissed it so quickly because they felt it was so intellectually weak and irrelevant. I think that if they had encountered more religious people who could speak to their concerns, reasonably and intelligently, they would be more likely to believe. I was convinced that there was a role for people like me--a believer, philosopher, historian, and skeptic. I could really do some good by speaking up because religion can be intelligently defended.
Let me give you a sense of the types of questions I was able to address. Most all of them were of two types: (1) they were good questions that I felt I should ask myself and consider; or (2) they were caricatures of religion or terribly misinformed. Let me give an example of both to explain what I mean. At one point, I was discussing why I thought a belief in God was important. One of the students there asked me, "My life is great, I am happy, and I feel that my life has meaning. Why do I need God? What does a belief in God give me that non-belief cannot?" Rather than feeling that his question was ill-conceived or devastating, I thought it was a wonderful question! I wish everyone would ask the same thing: why should I believe in God? What can a belief in God do for me? I gave him some thoughts about the subject, but I do not claim to have a definitive answer. I wrote this question down so that I could ask it to myself over and over again: why is it so important to believe in God? What difference does it make? By asking myself this question I found my faith to become deeper and more progressive. Deeper in the sense that I started to understand how important my belief in God truly was; progressive because I felt that I could continually ask myself this question, day after day, and find new ways that my belief in God, my relationship with him, affected my life for the better. What a great question.
In addition, my atheist friends asked me some questions that I was surprised to hear. They said things such as, "You just believe in God blindly, you follow him blindly, you have no evidence." To this, I responded that I have plenty of evidence for God and that I didn't believe anything blindly. On the contrary, my entire faith is based on questions: I ask questions of God, he responds. My faith isn't blind, it's a trust. I have a relationship with God. I have religious experiences where I feel his presence, his love, his counsel, his protection, and his care. That is my most basic evidence.
While answering these questions, I discovered that many of these students, who were extremely bright and intelligent people, had never really encountered a person who could clearly and reasonably articulate their reasons for believing. Many of their questions were surprisingly easy to answer (though not all of them!). For example, many of the students also challenged my belief in God by referencing evolution. They said that evolution disproved God and all need for religion. I told them that evolution did nothing of the sort. Even if I accept evolution as true, it in no way disproves God's existence. In fact, the bible can affirm evolution without undermining its message. To show an example, I quoted Genesis 1:1 in Hebrew, explaining how the verb ברא, which we normally translate as "create," can also be translated as formed or fashioned, as a carpenter forms a chair from wood. This understanding means that God's creation of mankind didn't necessary happen in an instant or out of nothing. Rather, he formed man from existing material. Perhaps this refers to evolution and the process of natural selection, perhaps not. The point is that evolution really doesn't have much to say about God's existence, and so it could not be used to disprove his existence.
In addition, most of the students had never encountered a Mormon or even heard of a Mormon. This was particularly surprising, but it also gave me a real opportunity to explain LDS beliefs. At one point, someone challenged me by stating that the bible had clear historical and other types of errors within it. How, they asked, could I possibly believe that such a book was infallible? To my delight, I responded that the bible, and any other work of scripture, is not infallible! They all have errors; that is not the point. They still represent great, inspired people who wrote down eternal truths about God, salvation, and the savior Jesus Christ. This response really took them off guard. This seemingly knock-down argument against the bible simply didn't mean anything to me. I never took scripture to be inerrant, so why would errors bother me?
The conference lasted a week, and I had a lot of great opportunities to question, defend, and explain both my faith and religion in general. I learned some wonderful things, which I will try to summarize:
(1) Atheists can ask wonderful questions that can really deepen my understanding of belief, challenge my beliefs, and make me appreciate my faith. These questions can bring me closer to God and can bring me closer to the truth.
(2) I do not have, nor do I claim to have, all the answers. Many of the questions posed by my friends were good ones that I have no answer for, though I want one. Nonetheless, I do claim to have some important, eternal truths, and those truths are defensible.
(3) Many bright, intelligent people have never really understood religious belief or have never encountered a religious person who could articulate their beliefs reasonably and persuasively.
(4) Learning, questioning, seeking, and critiquing are all wonderful methods to deepen and defend our faith. If our beliefs are true, they will stand up to honest questioning.
(5) There is a real need for religious people to educate themselves and defend what they hold dear. Many people, intelligent people, reject religion because they have never really seen its worth. We need to educate ourselves and think about our beliefs so we can explain them, defend them, and show the world their value.
(6) Mormons, in particular, can solve many of the problems that non-believers have with religion. We do not believe that scriptures are infallible, we do not believe that prophets are infallible, and we do not accept many of the traditional creeds that non-believers find so offensive. In addition, our religion, like others, is founded upon questions, upon seeking answers, and upon finding truth. We have a great deal to offer the world, and we should be more diligent in our studies and more vocal in our defense.
"I can, of course, put myself into the sectarian scientist's attitude, and imagine vividly that the world of sensations and of scientific laws and objects may be all. But whenever I do this, I hear that inward monitor of which W. K. Clifford once wrote, whispering the word 'bosh!' Humbug is humbug, even though it bear the scientific name, and the total expression of human experience, as I view it objectively, invincibly urges me beyond the narrow 'scientific' bounds. Assuredly, the real world is of a different temperament,--more intricately built than physical science allows." (William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience)
