Three Big, Fat Assumptions

You know as well as I do, that assumptions are dangerous. At least, I hope you do. It is an interesting fact that so many people's attitudes and opinions about the Christian faith and the God of the faith are based on assumptions. In the next blog or two... or three... or four..., 8-) I want to point out some assumptions, big, fat assumptions, on a certain subject, that, in spite of their size, often get overlooked.

Back when I first became a Christian, I picked up Charles Templeton's book, Farewell to God. Templeton made a comment in that book, I've never forgotten. At first, it troubled me; I was young in my faith, and not as adept in apologetics now. (Though I hasten to add that I am no Lewis or Zacharias yet, either!) But as the years have rolled by, as my relationship with God has strengthened, as I've studied, and as I've gained experience, Templeton's comment doesn't trouble me any more.

One of his reasons for kissing God goodbye, so to speak, was that he believed Christianity was culturally conditioned. "If," said he, "you were raised in the Middle East, chances are you would be a Muslim." Being born in North America made it likely that you would be a Christian. And furthermore, because faith was largely dependent on where one was born, so your knowledge of God/faith would be limited to your culture. In other words, if God damned people to hell because the they didn't believe in Jesus, He was a very unjust God for damning people for what they could not help - what they couldn't/didn't know, and, therefore, the Christian faith was not valid.

Now, that is a very convoluted way of explaining Mr. Templeton's very smooth and concise arguments ( I told you I wasn't Lewis or Zacharias!), but that is the gist of it. That way of thinking shook my world, all the more so, because I was aware enough to have wondered the same thing myself. Assuming Christianity and our understanding of it is valid, have you ever wondered just how it will be when the "ignorant heathen" stand before God to be judged of their sins? Is it fair for God to send them to hell merely because they are ignorant? It's the sort of issue that causes a strong knee-jerk reaction, doesn't it?

What I didn't see when I was a new, teenage Christian was the huge assumptions in this line of reasoning. In fact, there are so many assumptions, that I'm not sure where to begin. One assumption, both Christians and atheists have made over the years is that God does send all the "heathen" to hell. The Christians have made the assumption through flawed reasoning, and the atheist has reached the assumption through prejudice and ignorance - assuming that the flawed reasoning of many Christians is an accurate representation of Christian doctrine. (More assumptions!) But there are three bigger, fatter assumptions the atheist makes who subscribes to Templeton's reasoning.

The first is that they assume the heathen are ignorant of right and wrong, particularly what God has defined as right and wrong. In this they could not be more mistaken. The Bible says in Romans chapter 2, that God has written His law on the hearts of all humanity, and that people do/know by nature/instinct what is right and wrong without direct revelation - revelation such as what the Jews experienced at Mt. Sinai when the Ten Commandments was given. And the evidence that God has indeed written His law on our hearts is the presence of our conscience - that thing that accuses us or excuses us, that thing that so inconveniently pricks when we are all set to have "fun", that thing that we spend our lifetime trying to soothe and salve.

The best way to explain what the Bible teaches about this subject, is the classic illustration of two children playing ball. Let's say it's a brother and sister named Janie and Tommy. At some point, Janie and Tommy decide to play ball together using Janie's ball. Everything goes fine for a few tosses, until suddenly Janie decides to hang on to the ball rather than throw it back. Immediately there is a row.

Tommy sets up the howling first, "Throw it back, Janie!"

"No,"says Janie, clutching her ball tightly, "It's my ball!"

"But you agreed we would play together!" retorts Tommy, "And you should keep your promise!"

"Who says?" scowls Janie, and clutches her ball tighter."

I'll leave to your imagination how that little scenario ends; however, I think anyone with kids has a pretty good idea what the outcome will be.


What happens in situations like that points to the fact, that even very young kids appeal to a universal scheme of right and wrong, and know how to accuse each other and excuse themselves when they find themselves in the position to do so. I've heard people say that kids do things like that because of cultural conditioning and evolution, but I have to say as kindly as I know how that I think that is nothing more than a cop-out to deny what is clear evidence of a moral law beyond ourselves written by a Lawgiver upon our heart. It always cracks me up how atheists and their ilk go to such lengths to prove there is no such thing as a moral law written into our natures, and then go out and argue frantically and furiously that Christians have no business imposing their beliefs on others. I've always wanted to retort like Janie, "Says who?" If there is no right and wrong, only what culture says or evolution has taught us, what right have you got to tell me that it is wrong to impose my beliefs on somebody else, unless there is a higher law which teaches us mutual respect?

I recently preached on this subject at my church, and I would like to give you the illustration I gave to my congregation to make the point that the ignorant heathen are not ignorant of God's right and wrong, and that their conscience bear witness to it. It is the story of a man named Don Richardson, author of the book Peace Child. A graduate of Prairie Bible Institute in Alberta, Don and his wife became missionaries to the cannibals of Western New Guinea. The cannibals' culture is something else. Fancy living in a culture where betrayal is a virtue! For the cannibals it was a "big deal" to make friends with somebody from a neighboring village, make all kinds of promises about what the relationship offered, such as the promise of free trade between the two villages, and then when the friendship was well cemented, turn around and eat them. Lovely. (Incidentally, I discovered from reading that book that mac'n'cheese looks like brains; just a little tidbit you might find interesting.) To the cannibal, Judas Ischariot was a hero. Talk of a missionary's worst nightmare. But as warped and twisted as a cannibal's thinking might be, there is a point, where even their conscience kicks into gear, and they sue for peace with each other, a cessation of betrayals and eating one another. And when two villages/tribes decide to make peace, they have a ritual called the "peace child;" in the ritual, they agree to make peace, and, the token given as proof that they have made peace, is to exchange children or babies, so that each village has a representative of the other living in it. The peace stands as long as the peace child lives. If that peace treaty is betrayed and the child is eaten, it is the ultimate transgression. Even in a culture so darkened, there is no words for the monstrosity of such a crime.

And in that illustration we see how the supposedly ignorant heathen know there is a higher law, and they appeal to it. Their conscience accuses them and excuses them. God has not left Himself without a witness. In the end, God will judge them for how they responded when their own conscience pricked them, and He will be perfectly justified to do so.

Mr. Templeton was wrong. The heathen are not so ignorant, and God is not unjust to judge a cannibal for eating a defenceless baby offered to him in good faith. As the Bible puts it, they are without excuse.

Part 2 to follow soon when we'll discuss the next big, fat assumption. 'Til then, God bless.
Pastor Chelle