WILLOW Magazine, Volume 15, Issue 1 Choosing Your Faith by Mark Mittelberg ...and helping other people find theirs Think about your day so far. This morning, you got up and had breakfast — by faith — trusting that no one had laced your food with poison. You stopped at a coffee shop and somehow trusted those characters behind the counter (is that really a good idea?) not to put some kind of harmful or spoiled substance in your triple-shot, extra foam, grande latte. You sat down in your chair at work, without testing it first to see if it would still hold you. And when you drive home tonight, you’ll trust that some NASCAR wannabe driver isn’t careening toward you at a high rate of speed. No doubt about it — you live your life by faith every day, even in the daily details. You may have what seem like good reasons for your faith, but you could also be wrong about some of your conclusions. And some of those mistakes could be serious, even life threatening. More than that, even if you’re a thoroughly nonreligious person, you’re living with the hope that your nonreligious beliefs are accurate, and that you won’t someday face a thoroughly religious Maker who, come to find out, actually did once issue a list of moral requirements, which you routinely failed to pay attention to. “Oh, I never worry about things like that,” you may say. But that statement itself is an expression of faith that it’s OK not to concern oneself with such things. You don’t know that they are unimportant — you just believe that to be the case. That’s part of your own particular version of nonreligious faith. Even well-known atheists such as Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris live their lives with an unproven assumption that there is no God and that the opinions they express are ultimately helping and not harming themselves and others. They don’t know that they are correct — they just hope so. In fact, Dawkins, who is probably the greatest evangelist for atheism of our day, admitted in a Time magazine article (Nov. 5, 2006) titled “God vs. Science” that “there could be something incredibly grand and incomprehensible and beyond our present understanding.” Biochemist Francis Collins, who was arguing the other side in the interview, shot back, “That’s God.” Dawkins replied, “Yes. But it could be any of a billion gods. It could be god of the Martians or of the inhabitants of Alpha Centauri. The chance of its being a particular god, Yahweh, the God of Jesus, is vanishingly small — at the least, the onus is on you to demonstrate why you think that’s the case.” Whether the chances are large or small, the important thought to catch here is that Dawkins doesn’t know there is no God — and he even concedes the possibility that some kind of God might actually exist. Rather, he takes it on faith that there actually is no God. Now, I’m sure he would argue that this is an educated conclusion, supported by the preponderance of evidence. But even if he turned out to be right, it doesn’t change the fact that his conclusion is based on faith. In other words, it’s a conclusion that seems to him to be the right one, based on the data he has examined — but one that goes beyond what can be proven or known with complete certainty. That’s just the way life is. We all live by some form of faith. Which leads us to the central question: Is our faith well-founded? Is it a wise faith? A faith that makes sense and is supported by the facts? One that works in real life and is worth hanging on to? More personally, is your faith one you’ve really thought about, carefully evaluated, and intentionally chosen — or did you just slide into it at some point along the way? When I got to college, I came to the painful realization that I’d grown into my particular version of faith rather passively. I’d been raised believing in God, trusting in the Bible, and having faith that the church was the carrier of God’s truth. I had an unsubstantiated and naive confidence in the truth of all this. Then I signed up for some philosophy classes. One of my professors, a religious man of a different stripe, seemed to delight in dismantling the simplistic beliefs of many of his Christian students — and I felt like a favorite target. He skillfully pointed out problems with the Bible, with what he called “traditional views about God,” and with most of the things I’d been taught to believe. His intellectual onslaught woke me up and made me face the fact that I’d bought into a belief system that I barely understood and had never critically analyzed. I hardly knew how to respond, and I have to admit that my attempts to get better answers from some of the leaders at my church were generally disheartening. For example, I told one of my teachers that my faith was being assailed in school and that I needed a deeper understanding not only of what we believed, but also of why we thought it was correct. “How do we know that the Bible is really true and that it is actually God’s Word?” I asked. I’ll never forget his reply: “Oh that’s easy, it says right here in the New Testament that ‘all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.’” “Yes, but how do we know that what that says is true?” I replied. “Because it says it is,” he answered, “and it’s God’s Word.” “But that’s the very question we’re trying to answer,” I shot back. “If all you do is appeal to the Bible’s claims to prove that the Bible is true, then you’re guilty of circular reasoning, and you’ve proved nothing.” He looked at me like he was certain I was rapidly sinking into the quicksands of liberalism or skepticism — or had already become an actual infidel — and then, with a deep breath, took another run at it: “But you need to realize that there’s no higher authority than God’s revelation. If God says it’s true, then you can bank your life on it.” “OK,” I replied wearily, “but how do you know that God’s really the one talking here? Lots of religious books claim to be God talking — and you don’t believe those other books.” “That’s because,” he said triumphantly, “those other books are not the Word of God!” At this point, I was frustrated enough to wish I could imitate Indiana Jones in that scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark where he finally gets fed up with his sword-wielding opponent’s antics and just pulls out his pistol and shoots the guy. Of course I’m only kidding (at least now I am). But it was becoming abundantly clear to me that logic was not going to get me any further in that conversation, so I finally just had to let it go — although I was left with the same questions churning in my mind. Subsequently, I found some people and books that were a lot more helpful, but this exasperating interchange, and others like it along the way, helped me realize that lots of religious people hold firmly to all kinds of religious ideas — whether right or wrong — for all kinds of weak, or at least unexamined, reasons. I determined then and there that whether I ended up agreeing with my parents’ faith or choosing a completely different point of view, my conclusion would have to be based on more solid criteria than what some of my teachers and leaders were apparently clinging to. I live in the foothills of the Santa Ana Mountains of California, and when I recently decided it was time to invest in a full suspension, no-nonsense mountain bike, I subscribed to Mountain Bike Action magazine, searched online, and started reading all kinds of reviews and articles. I knew I wanted a bike that would be lightweight but also extremely durable. So I studied the pros and cons of various frame materials, including steel, titanium, aluminum, and carbon fiber. That last option seemed the most unlikely choice, at least at first, because I was planning to ride some serious trails — with big rocks, sharp turns, and plenty of drops and obstacles — and the idea of entrusting my safety to some newfangled synthetic glass or plastic or whatever-it-is frame just didn’t seem like a good idea. But I kept reading and researching online and talking to any expert who would take the time. Guess what I learned? Carbon fiber is stronger than aluminum or steel and is even lighter than titanium. It’s expensive, but it provides a great combination of strength and weight, and it looks good, too. Long story short, I ended up buying a carbon-fiber mountain bike. After months of research, I bought the top frame for my budget, and I also carefully researched, read reviews, and got expert advice on the best components to build onto the frame, including the fork, rear shock, crank, derailleurs, shifters, brakes (front and rear hydraulic disc brakes, no less), handlebar, stem, seat post, saddle, wheel sets, tires — I even spent a fair amount of time reading about the best pedals and riding shoes to purchase. The result is that I now have a bike I love to ride, and it is serving me really well. Why do I explain all this? To point out that many of us spend more time reading up on, researching, and seeking wisdom about decisions that are of low-to-moderate importance — like what bike to purchase, which car or SUV to drive, what clothes to wear for a special occasion, what shrubs or flowers to plant in the garden, which university to attend, or (you fill in the blank) — than we do on monumental issues like where our faith is currently focused, and whether it’s well placed or ought to be redirected to more deserving objects and tenets of trust. Don’t you think it is worth spending some significant time reflecting on your faith? My goal is to help you think through what kind of beliefs are worth choosing and to understand which criteria are helpful, or not helpful, in making that decision. In other words, I’m not so much trying to show you what to believe — everybody is constantly doing that — as I am trying to coach you in how to figure it out, weighing the various methods of choosing and only then looking at some of the actual information to consider. This is crucial, because the approach you use to make your selection has a huge bearing on the outcome of your decision. You owe it to yourself not only to think about what your final choice will be, but to first step back and think about how you’re thinking about it. Most people never consider this. They just arbitrarily pick up an approach (or accept one that’s been handed to them) and uncritically employ it to select a belief system that may or may not be the best one. I’m sure you don’t want to follow their pattern. I don’t know where this important journey will take you — but it’s imperative that you invest real time and energy in this vital area of your life in order to make certain you choose your faith wisely. I’m confident that you’ll be really glad you did. An Inside Look WILLOW asked Mark Mittelberg about his new book, Choosing Your Faith, as well as Choosing Your Faith New Testament, both coming in March: WILLOW: This book seems to represent a new direction for you. We know you for evangelism training and leadership, especially in the updated Becoming a Contagious Christian and Becoming a Contagious Church materials. What’s going on? MM: For years, I’ve wanted to write not just for believers but more directly to seekers — helping them understand the rationale for the Christian faith. In many ways, this is a return to my roots and my background in apologetics. WILLOW: There are a lot of apologetics books on the market. How is Choosing Your Faith different? MM: First, many apologetics books are written either to committed believers or to scholars. Choosing speaks to the seeker who is sorting out what to believe as well as to newer Christians who need to be reinforced in their faith, and it’s written in a nonacademic and, I trust, accessible way. Second, and more important, this book helps people step back and actually consider how they think about faith. In other words, it does more than give evidence for Christianity— it first lays the groundwork by helping readers assess which of six kinds of criteria, or what I call faith paths, they are already relying on (for example, the Traditional faith path, the Authoritarian faith path, or the Mystical faith path). Then it helps them understand the possible pitfalls of their current approach and nudges them toward the most reliable methods of selecting or confirming their faith. It ends by giving them 20 solid reasons to choose Christianity. WILLOW: So this book is for Christians to give to their non-Christian friends? MM: Yes — after they read it themselves! Because the truth is, most of us have never carefully thought through the criteria for our own faith. We’ve accepted it based on tradition or authority, but we’ve never really shored up our own faith foundations. So just as Lee Strobel’s book The Case for Christ strengthens the confidence of believers and then becomes a tool for reaching their friends, I believe Choosing Your Faith will deepen the faith of Christians and will help guide seekers toward spiritual truth. WILLOW: And how does the Choosing Your Faith New Testament fit in? MM: It carries the tone and principles of the Choosing book into articles peppered throughout the New Testament, building on the strengths of the highly readable New Living Translation. Our hope is that this will become a powerful and affordable outreach tool that churches will give to visitors and seekers, helping them start reading the message of God’s Word and eventually choosing to put their faith in Him. WCA MEMBER BONUS! WCA Members may download a complimentary chapter from Choosing Your Faith on the Members Only section of our Web site at www.willowcreek.com/members In Mark Mittelberg’s new book, Choosing Your Faith … In a World of Spiritual Options, he examines six different approaches, or “faith paths,” that people characteristically take in order to arrive at their spiritual point of view. Understanding this will strengthen your own faith, and help you better reach your friends for Christ. Once they’ve identified which faith path they’re on, they will be able to evaluate whether that path is serving them well, or whether they should consider other, more reliable routes toward discovering the evidence for what’s true and worth trusting. Be sure to order a copy of Choosing Your Faith now! Place your order at willowcreek.com or by calling (800) 570-9812. Top