Chapter One:  Says Who?

He Whose Word Cannot Be Broken

Glorious things of thee are spoken,

The Question of Authority

Today’s young adults face some special challenges.¹ Whatever the proper label—whether postmodern, postconservative, or posteverything—the ideas and beliefs of popular culture have so inundated life in this world that such ideas and beliefs can all too easily become a natural part of our thinking and living. A college student on a typical campus today has learned the cultural drill well: “Doubt everything taught by anyone; submit your ideas to no authority.” To fail to doubt is to fail to be heard. Perhaps no demographic in the history of our country has been fed a daily diet so heavy in tolerance and inclusiveness and so light in truth as these newer generations have. Any form of authority exists to be challenged, ignored, and likely rejected. To accept the ultimate authority of any person, document, or institution is to be bigoted, intolerant, unloving, and self-righteous.

The conventional wisdom dictates that we view the drama of life played out around us with a combination of cynicism, skepticism, and suspicion. In a context of such confusion, it is hard to convince oneself of what is real, or really important. We have been taught to take hold of our own destinies and to create our own reality. In far too many cases, we have attempted to do exactly this—and seen disastrous results.

The newer generations living in the twenty-first century have never known what life is like without television or videocas-sette/CD/DVD recorders or TiVO. Because of technology, we can, at least in some sense, “create” the reality we desire. It is now possible, for example, to program electronic screens with what we want to see when we want to see it. We can use pre-selected iPod tunes as the soundtrack for our lives. This has the double effect of, on the one hand, creating the feelings and ambience we desire, and on the other hand, letting the rest of the world go by.

In this kind of environment, many of the new generation say they believe in Christianity, that they trust God and his Word, but become tongue-tied, embarrassed, or defensive when their beliefs are questioned or challenged. Not only so, the notion of a universal authority that applies to one and all is almost completely foreign to the contemporary context. The authority of Christ and his Word is acceptable at the personal level perhaps, but it is almost a foregone conclusion that it cannot be applied to everyone.

Not too long ago, a group of students (twenty-somethings) gathered for a Bible study. The speaker had spent a fair amount of time discussing the authority and truth of the Bible with these self-professed Christian believers. Near the end of the meeting, group members began to ask questions: But what about the Koran? What about the Book of Mormon? How do the findings of numerology or “historical facts” contained in other ancient documents affect the authority of the Bible? Is there really only one way to God? Are not all religions just different ways of saying the same thing? Why should we believe the Bible’s claims over the claims of other religions? There seems to be a significant gap in the ability of most today to synthesize the truth of the Bible with what we see around us. Because of this inability, the Bible is reduced to the level of helpful personal advice and inspirational thought.

The problem posed in reconciling biblical truth with apparent contradictions in experience, of course, is the problem of authority. This problem is not a new one. And the questions that come today have their central focus in the question of truth and authority. The focus of the question may change in different periods of history, but the basic question is always the same: To whom or what should I ultimately submit? How can I know what is true and what is not?

Authority’s Sources

It may come as no surprise to students of history, especially the history of thought, that in today’s confused climate two primary views on the source of truth or authority emerge. People seem either to believe that truth is what makes them feel good and works best with their experience (which is sometimes labeled “empiricism”) or that truth is what makes sense to them objectively and intellectually (which is sometimes labeled “rationalism”). Are either of these approaches acceptable in developing and nurturing a system of truth and a notion of authority?

If It Feels Good . . .

Empiricism is, by definition, the obtaining of knowledge through the senses, or through experience. Right experiences will bring an understanding of truth—or so we think. These experiences, both emotional and physical, are often defined by the popular media that inundate today’s generation, including music, television, film, and poetry. Media of this kind can create an ambience of authority because they tell stories in ways that are appealing. In music, the stories are told with a particular mood or beat, making them easy to remember and repeat. In television or film, they are told with images, visual art and effects, and musical score, all of which combine to capture imaginations and promote ideas and worldviews. In most cases, however, the stories told, the images produced, and the effects desired have their sources in just another human emotion, experience, or desire. It can be tempting to commit oneself to a particular song’s or movie’s “message.” But these messages themselves only go as deep as the individual(s) who produced them.

If history teaches us anything, it is that human beings are not particularly good at defining their own happiness. We are not adept at articulating clearly what it is we really want. Some of what we think we want may be good; we may think what we want is simply the absence of conflict with other humans or the absence of conflict within ourselves. But even if these goals are good ones, the solutions offered may not be. Remedies offered for getting rid of these conflicts—things like more money, more time, fewer responsibilities, more autonomy, or maybe just the ability to have the ultimate makeover (of home, hair, teeth, or brain)—are all supposed to provide what we need. If they provide for our needs producing less conflicted lives, they must give us truth.

In keeping with the empirical, some may base their lives on what they “feel” like doing at any given time. They may not feel like going to class, or studying, or going to work. In seeking to orchestrate the right feelings, we may seek to change the atmosphere (music, entertainment, activity), the location (new city, new apartment, new bed), the vocation or the surrounding family (spouse, parents, siblings), and friends (new significant other, new group, or new church). Change may create a sense of busyness and thus a distraction from reality, an escape from the everyday grind, and an illusion of self-created happiness.

But isn’t distraction really just a means of escape? We turn up the music and get lost in the melody and the words, hoping that the pain and negative feelings pass. Movies, concerts, and sporting events provide the opportunity to be caught up in the excitement of the crowd and carried along by our feelings for a little while. Enjoying music and attending sporting events certainly are not wrong. What is troublesome is when we expect these things to deliver the right feelings and thus to be a source of truth or authority.

I Think, Therefore . . .

Rationalism is knowledge or belief gained through reasoning. The fields of philosophy, science, and mathematics have long been the strongholds for rationalistic thought. This is mirrored in a perverse view of man’s creativity and intellectual superiority in which such things are to be the source of truth and authority. Concepts that don’t make sense to “the experts” are too easily and quickly rejected in today’s culture, fostering the opinion, “I am right because I trust the experts on ‘x.’” Educational credentials often become the sole basis for credibility. But educational credentials have their own agenda. Biblical teachings such as creation or miracles have been ruled out-of-bounds in much of academia.

Many questions from the disciplines of philosophy, science, and mathematics are designed to evoke a skeptical view of Christianity: “If there is a god, why are there not more positive miraculous occurrences and fewer calamities?”; “Why is there so much evil in the world if God is good?”; “Why would you put your trust in someone as narrow-minded as Jesus?” There are no philosophical, scientific, or mathematical formulae that can answer such questions. In a context of rationalism, this means that the questions themselves are designed to show thenaiveté or irrelevance of religion. Raising the dead by a spoken word, rather than heroic, scientifically-based medical means is not an activity science has any real interest in affirming.