* The following essay was published at the Christian Post (there are a few extra footnotes in this version):
Keeping Faith While Growing Up Evangelical
O God, you have taught me from my youth
and I still declare your wondrous deeds.
–Psalm 71.17
I was raised in the Christian faith within the evangelical church. I am still a Christian and I am still an evangelical. I have read with interest, and sadness, of many who have a similar background growing up but who, for various reasons, no longer remain Christian. The narrative usually follows a common path. The simplistic faith of one’s youth is jettisoned under the pressure of intellectual challenges. This opens up new intellectual vistas and a new worldview—many times, atheism—is embraced. This “de-conversion” process has been analyzed by Scot McKnight and Hauna Ondrey in chapter one of their book Finding Faith, Losing Faith: Stories of Conversion and Apostasy.
A few months ago the Christian Post did a series of articles on “Leaving Christianity” which discussed why many Americans are rejecting the faith they grew up with. The first installment was written by Luke Douglas--I Lost My Faith in a Chik-fil-a. Douglas narrates his experience of growing up in an evangelical context where he was home-schooled and was taught a curriculum “centered on Creation Science.” In another narration of his past, found on a Humanist website, Douglas fills out the details of his pilgrimage.
“In 2008 I traveled to California to volunteer for the Proposition 8 campaign, which amended the state constitution to define marriage as being between one man and one woman. It passed. When I was seventeen, I had made the rounds in conservative circles and started getting invited to speak at rallies and conferences as a sort of rising star for the new Tea Party movement that was sweeping the nation. They loved me because they loved a token young person who gave them hope for the next generation. At eighteen I moved to northern Virginia for my first full-time job at a consulting firm where I raised money for major Republican organizations and campaigns. At nineteen I earned my bachelor’s degree and went to a conservative Christian law school on a full-ride scholarship. At twenty I was working in Washington DC, for a fundamentalist legal defense and lobbying organization.”
Then, in 2014, while at law school, Douglas watches the debate between Ken Ham—his “childhood icon”—and Bill Nye. He saw Ken Ham “embarrassingly destroyed before my very eyes.” With his legal training giving him the ability “to argue both sides of a case” he begins to examine other viewpoints outside of Christianity, focusing on philosophy, science and history. In 2016—at the age of 23—this leads to the final break. In a Chik-fil-a, while reading the philosopher Baruch Spinoza, he breaks down in tears, sheds his Christian belief, and finally admits to himself that he is “an atheist, a humanist, and a progressive.”
Luke Douglas’ Journey and Mine: Comparisons and Contrasts
In reading Luke Douglas’ narrative of his life-story (so far), I find myself reflecting on my life-story—its similarities and differences. I, too, was raised in evangelical churches. When I was in sixth or seventh grade, Josh McDowell came to our church, and I asked my parents to buy his book Evidence That Demands a Verdict. In eighth grade I would try to do my book report on this book but its length was a bit much for me at that age. During my seventh and eighth grades I became fascinated about the Bible. My youth pastor noticed my interest and began to help me develop a devotional habit of daily Bible reading, prayer, and Scripture memorization. My memorization efforts have not yielded the twenty-two books that Douglas can claim but I have kept up this discipline for close to forty years now. In high school I continued these devotional habits and, like Douglas, I was given training in how to study and teach the Bible. During my junior and senior years of high school I taught a small Bible study for Christians at my high school. I would also co-lead a larger mid-week group from our church. My youth pastor helped teach me basic theology and let me use his library as I began to build my own theological library.
It was during my junior year of high school that I had, what I call, my “cognitive awakening.” I, too, like Douglas, was taught a version of Creationism. This opened up the intellectual possibility that the standard neo-Darwinian narrative could be critiqued. My interest in this issue of creation and evolution has continued to this day. The second, and more important, element of my cognitive awakening came from reading the works of Francis Schaeffer. Schaeffer taught me that Christian theism was not merely an assemblage of independent assertions. It was a coherent worldview that could be understood as a philosophical system that made sense of the world. This notion of “worldview thinking” has been a hallmark of my intellectual development since this time in high school. Reading Schaeffer with his philosophical analysis of historical trends prepared me for the next formative influence—Dr. William Lane Craig.
William Craig came to my church when I was a senior in high school and gave a seminar on basic Christian apologetics. I subsequently read his book on the topic and began to follow his career. I later heard him give a talk at Arizona State University and was able to have lunch with him. As we were parting for the day, I asked him who I should be reading if I wanted to pursue philosophy. He immediately replied, “Master the work of Alvin Plantinga.” Now, I can’t say I’ve mastered his work, but Craig’s comment opened a larger world of evangelical scholarship in the area of philosophy and through this opening I was exposed to an even broader tradition of Christians engaged in philosophy. It was exciting to see the depth and breadth of scholarship displayed by the Christian philosophical community. William Craig and J. P. Moreland speak to this issue in the latest edition of their book Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview:
“Over the last forty years a revolution has been occurring in Anglo-American philosophy. Since the late 1960s Christian philosophers have been coming and defending the truth of the Christian worldview with philosophically sophisticated arguments in the finest scholarly journals and professional societies. And the face of Anglo-American philosophy has been transformed.”[1]
And this is where my story begins to diverge significantly from Luke Douglas’—at least as far as he narrates it in his published online work. Douglas’ “testimony” shows no awareness of this renaissance of Christian philosophy and the evangelicals engaged in it. Douglas states that it was Ken Ham who was “the apologist who influenced me most growing up.” Whatever else may be said for Ken Ham, he is not a philosophical scholar or a trained theologian. He is a popularizer of a certain brand of Creationism. It seems, from what Douglas has written, that Ken Ham influenced him heavily as a child and into his early teens. At the age of fifteen, as mentioned above, he began a heavy interest in politics—even traveling out of state to take up political causes in California. He then later states that when he was about twenty-years old during the Ken Ham/Bill Nye debate that he “hadn’t thought about creationism since I was a teenager.” He even mentions that, “the last thing I had time to do was revisit the underlying worldview.” It seems that during his later teens he gave no serious thought to this issue and, perhaps, the larger philosophical worldview issues needed for serious apologetics. At least his narration of events shows no development in this area. It is this lack of theological and philosophical maturation that comes up again and again in my mind as I read his of his intellectual journey and compare it with my own.
Some Key Areas of Theology and Apologetics
I will mention three areas that Douglas brings up repeatedly in his online testimonials. I find it instructive to contrast our differing approaches to these facets of theology and philosophy.
(1) The Inerrancy of Scripture. Douglas states, “Everything else, from politics to law to communications, had been built on the foundational truth claims of the Bible being an inerrant historical source and science textbook.” It is true that evangelicals—at least historically—have endorsed the theological notion of “inerrancy.” When I first learned about this concept I was directed to The Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy as a competent, well thought out exposition of the doctrine. Early in college I also read evangelical philosopher Paul Feinberg’s essay “The Meaning of Inerrancy” in which he gives a theologically robust and philosophically nuanced definition of inerrancy. At one point in his discussion he even states, “One should not expect the writers of Scripture to use the language of modern scientific empiricism.”[2] I would later read J. P. Moreland’s essay “The Rationality of Belief in Inerrancy” in which he articulates a philosophically defensible theory of rationality informed by insights from the philosophy of science and then relates this to the rationality of belief in the inerrancy of Scripture. Had Douglas been keeping up the literature he may have also noticed the important essay on this topic in 2009 by Jason Sexton—"How Far Beyond Chicago? Assessing Recent Attempts to Reframe the Inerrancy Debate".
(2) Creationism. The issue of “creationism” looms large in Douglas’ personal journey. He states, “ I was eight when I first heard the earth was 6,000 years old, which quickly became a central theological litmus test for whether one took God at His Word.” So the litmus test developed by a Douglas as a boy would seem to be the one used throughout the rest of his journey. Keep in mind his words mentioned earlier: “You have to understand I hadn’t thought about creationism since I was a teenager.” Again, the lack of maturation in thought is apparent. When faced with difficulties in his understanding of Genesis and the creation narrative, Douglas is unable to nuance his view or change in his understanding. As he puts it, “To bend my rigid faith was to risk shattering it entirely.”
I, too, learned a version of Young Earth Creationism (YEC) in high school and knew of Ken Ham. But I also learned of a hierarchy of importance in which the fact that God created with teleological intentionality was more important than the dating of the event. In the summer of 1991 I read Phillip Johnson’s recently released Darwin on Trial. This was to become an important piece in the newly developing Intelligent Design movement and I fully embraced his focus on the philosophical issue of naturalism as the crucial issue to be examined in contemporary theories of evolution.[3] More sophisticated proponents of YEC also recognized the importance of focusing energies on the underlying issue of naturalism. Philosophers Paul Nelson and John Mark Reynolds write in their defense of YEC:
“It is obvious that a person who is generally committed to a traditional understanding of Christianity can be ‘old earth.’… Our disagreements on these points should not distract from the main topic. Philosophical naturalism is retarding science, philosophy, and theology. It seems to both of us that our reviewers agree in finding such a situation intolerable. To fail to unify with such people of goodwill in the assault on naturalism would not just be foolish; it would be intellectual treason.”[4]
Douglas’ testimony regarding his development of philosophy and apologetics shows none of this nuance or development.
Douglas mentions, in yet another narration of his journey, his reading of Richard Dawkins as being part of the “final nails in the coffin of my longtime struggle to hold onto faith.” I, too, read Richard Dawkins. In late 1991 I was in a Philosophy of Biology class at the University of Arizona and one of our textbooks was The Blind Watchmaker by Dawkins. I chose to do my research paper on Dawkins’ book. I found the exercise to be both intellectually challenging as well as faith confirming. Examining the arguments by Dawkins allowed me to see his lack of empirical evidence, his unwarranted extrapolation of minor variation to major morphological change, and his completely speculative origin-of-life scenario. I also found that even positive reviewers of the book recognized the non-empirical basis of the book. One of my favorite descriptions comes from Jon Marks in his review of The Blind Watchmakerin theJournal of Human Evolution:
“The prose is extraordinary, especially from a scientist. As in his previous books, Dawkins shows himself to be a master of the seductive metaphor… And consequently, one may need to step back periodically from Dawkins’ engaging style to recognize that there is precious little substance to The Blind Watchmaker. The work abounds with wonderfully clever expositions, turn of phrases …, plausible scenarios and captivating analogies. But at the bottom line The Blind Watchmakerdiscusses at great length what biological evolution is like, not what biological evolution is. While this is a very useful literary and pedagogical device, it is simply that—a device. I venture to say that Dawkins is without peer as an illustrator-by-analogy, … all of which is interesting and appealing, as long as you do not think too hard about it.”[5]
Whereas Douglas had not thought about his version of creationism since his early teenage years, I continued to read in the field and focus on the underlying issue of philosophical naturalism and how this affected the analysis of evidence.
(3) Presuppositional Apologetics. Luke Douglas merely mentions the phrase “presuppositional apologetics” once. There is no reason to believe that he had a mature or developed understanding of this apologetic tradition except what was mediated to him through his “childhood icon,” Ken Ham.
I also learned of presuppositional apologetics. I read some of the key works of Cornelius Van Til as well as those who were influential scholars in the field: Greg Bahnsen, John Frame, and James Anderson. As part of my apologetic development, I spent time in two summer seminars at Dr. Bahnsen’s house in California. The first time we were required to read two books (totaling nearly 800 pages) by atheist philosopher Michael Martin—Atheism: A Philosophical Justification and The Case Against Christianity. We then spent three days critically examining the arguments of Martin. The second seminar I attended was a detailed discussion of transcendental arguments—their nature, structure, and relevance for Christian apologetics.
Douglas does attempt to provide something of a description of the kinds of arguments he once believed. He writes:
“See, my whole upbringing’s teaching was that, apart from God, there would be no basis for morality, for purpose, or even for logic itself. If there were no higher power Whose nature exemplified right, there would be no such thing as wrong. The further removed I become from presuppositional apologetics, however, the less sense that whole line of argument makes.”
But given Douglas’ simplistic understanding of these issues—at least as described in his writing—he seems unaware of the more sophisticated versions of these arguments. I have actually defended versions of these arguments regarding morality and purpose in public forums. The argument from logic as that which needs a theistic base has been defending by philosophers James Anderson and Greg Welty in their paper "The Lord of Noncontradiction: An Argument for God from Logic."
Of course, Douglas offers no reasons as to why he does not accept these arguments and the alternative foundation for morality that he offers is not well thought out. He simply states, without evidence or reason, the following: “My morality post-evangelicalism is driven by tough questions about maximizing happiness in a complex world. It’s driven by empathy for my fellow beings …” This is a fine sounding sentiment, but is it rational given an atheistic worldview? Does an atheistic worldview have the needed philosophical resources to ground the ethic Douglas espouses? A Humanist ethic is not simply justified by rejecting theistic ethics. As William Craig argues, “The problem the humanist confronts is this: If theism is false, humanism doesn’t win by default. If theism is false, you’ve got to ask yourself, why wouldn’t nihilism be true? What proof do you have that nihilism is not the correct remaining alternative?”[6]
It is not merely Christian philosophers or those with a theistic background that make this argument. A number of atheistic philosophers also draw the same conclusion. Consider the words from Tamler Somers and Alex Rosenberg from their article "Darwin's Nihilistic Idea: Evolution and the Meaninglessness of Life":
“But when we combine an evolutionary account of ethical beliefs with the conception of Darwinian theory as a ‘universal acid’… the result is moral nihilism. If all apparently purposive processes, states, events, and conditions are in reality the operation of a purely mechanical substrate neutral algorithm, then as far [as] explanatory tasks go, the only values we need attribute to biological systems are instrumental ones. An evolutionary account of moral belief will not only explain ethics but it will explain it away.”[7]
This is an argument I find persuasive but it doesn’t appear that Douglas has yet to critically engage with this challenge. He doesn’t show how his commitment to naturalistic evolution—which was the primary cause of his leaving the faith of his youth—does not reduce his ethics to moral nihilism.
Where is Jesus?
Conspicuously absent from Luke Douglas’ account of his Christian past is the person of Jesus. For an evangelical, this is puzzling. Albert Einstein is noted as saying, “I am a Jew, but I am enthralled by the luminous figure of the Nazarene…. No one can read the Gospels without feeling the actual presence of Jesus.” Yet for Douglas, in his narration, Jesus hardly merits mention. Even in his recounting of his apologetics there is no concern for the historical rootedness of the Christian faith, nor for the historical arguments that have been marshaled for the resurrection of Jesus.
There was also very little in Douglas’ account about the personal dynamics of his relationship with Jesus Christ—a usual staple of evangelical spirituality. He does, however, mention, “spending hours on my knees in prayer, my entire emotional focus pinned on talking to God, only to hear nothing back.” This experience of “divine silence” is not an anomaly for those who follow Jesus. As philosopher Paul Moser notes, the existential problem of “divine hiddenness” can be said to even touch Christ Jesus himself in his tortured moments on the cross when he cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15.34) Thus, it may be that times and seasons of divine silence and the perceived absence of God’s presence may be a normal part of the Christian life.
In my own experience there have been those seasons of divine silence. I remember one particular time as a pastor struggling with the seeming absence of God. The usual antidotes to such times do not normally include philosophical theology but it was during this season I did read a piece that was helpful. Notre Dame philosopher, Michael Rea, wrote an essay entitled "Narrative, Liturgy, and the Hiddenness of God" which actually helped as part of the process of navigating that time. I bring this up, not to appeal to this essay as the panacea for all persons and times of seeming abandonment, but, rather, to show that there are intellectual resources available for such issues. Without meaning to demean Luke Douglas’ own internal crisis, I do wonder if his youthful and intellectually undeveloped faith might not have been helped by wise guidance and more mature reflection available from within the Christian tradition.
The Way Forward for Luke, Me, and Others
Luke Douglas has moved from evangelical Christian faith to atheism. He has embraced this new worldview with the zeal of a new convert. He has become the Executive Director for the Humanist Society of Greater Phoenix. In a recent interview Douglas speaks of his goal of campus outreach to attract a younger audience as well as “prostheletizing militant nonbelief.”
I also was raised in the evangelical Christian tradition and have stayed in. This was not a result of closing my mind to alternatives; my faith has been sharpened and honed over the past thirty-some years since my time in high school. I, too, am still zealous for outreach on college campuses which is part of the reason I am associated with Ratio Christi which seeks to influence faculty and students on college campuses by giving them historical, philosophical, and scientific reasons to follow Jesus.
A large part of my journey has been shaped by the influence of Christian philosophers and theologians. This has served to both deepen and stabilize my faith. J. P. Moreland and Klaus Issler poignantly articulate the importance of Christian scholarship for the church in their book In Search of a Confident Faith: Overcoming Barriers to Trusting in God:
“A helpful strategy of offense is to develop a counterculture in which believers are regularly exposed to Christian scholars, sophisticated Christian alternatives to secular ideas, and thoughtful Christian books, magazines and journals. Note, such exposure is not important merely so Christians can come to develop Christian alternatives to secular ideas. It is not just secular ideas that must be countered. It is the process of secularization itself that must be confronted, including the process of socializing Christians into thinking of themselves as marginalized, weak, gullible, uneducated people. Thus, even if you are not yourself particularly well-educated, and even if you cannot understand the line of reasoning of articulate Christian scholars and carefully thought-out Christian books, exposure to the very existence of such things can provide you with confidence and remove doubt rooted in cultural background assumptions.”[8]
I hope and pray the church will heed this admonition so that this might be one of the means used to stem the flow of those leaving the faith. One wonders what might have been the outcome if Luke had been exposed to such scholarship.
So for now, here’s where things stand: Luke left; I stayed. But Luke still can come home to Jesus—there is every reason to do so.
· Richard Klaus is on staff with Ratio Christi. He also works part-time as Student Engagement Staff at Glendale Community College in the Philosophy & Religious Studies Department. The ideas articulated in this article do not necessarily represent the views of Glendale Community College or the Maricopa County Community College District.
[3]For a cogent discussion on the relationship between Young Earth Creationism and Intelligent Design see Marcus Ross and Paul Nelson, “A Taxonomy of Teleology: Phillip Johnson, the Intelligent Design Community and Young-Earth Creationism” in Darwin’s Nemesis: Phillip Johnson and the Intelligent Design Movement ed. William A. Dembski (Downers Grove, Ill.: Intervarsity Press, 2006), 261-275,
1986, 517—emphasis added.
