72 Sermon Illustrations on Questions

God had never been the problem.

Growing up in small-town Iowa, Katie Crichton’s family was deeply involved with a local Protestant church. Her mother served as choir director, her father sang in the choir and Crichton and her two brothers sat in the front row every Sunday. God was everywhere. Religion was everywhere. And throughout Katie Crichton’s young life she was surrounded by people who spoke freely about God. God was always very comfortable. “It was when people started talking about Jesus that I got uncomfortable,” she said.

While in college, Crichton remembers coming home for winter break and sitting with her family during the Christmas Eve service, listening to the familiar music and taking in the beautiful candle-lit atmosphere. Deep inside, however, Katie felt like a hypocrite. “I was sitting there enjoying the service, but not really buying the whole Christmas story,” she said.

After graduation, Crichton moved to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, to pursue her teaching career. She lived by herself during the first year and moved in the following year with another teacher, Mary.

“Mary had this personal faith in Jesus,” Crichton said. “She read her Bible and memorized Scripture, but aside from that, she was real. I liked her so much. She was fun and to me Christian types were boring, in a box, and very judgmental. But that wasn’t Mary at all.”

In Eau Claire, Crichton also met her future husband, Jason, and the couple eventually relocated to Chicago. Jason’s family, Crichton said, was much more conservative in their beliefs than she was used to. When they talked about Jesus, some of them talked about having a blind faith, a notion that bothered Crichton. “I was so afraid that Christianity was just too simple and that it was something that people who didn’t know any better believed blindly,” she said. “I refused to be one of those people.”

Despite her hesitation, her curiosity about Jesus grew and the couple started going to church in Naperville, Ill., where Crichton said the pastor brought the Bible to life in a way she had never heard before. “It was the first time the Bible became really interesting to me and I think a tiny fire started growing inside me,” she said.

But along with the spark, Crichton’s questions mounted.

When the couple started attending Crossroads Community Church in Carol Stream, Scripture again was revealed to Crichton in such an appealing way that she increasingly yearned to understand. Eventually, after being asked multiple times, she joined a small group.

“Oh, my poor small group,” she said. “I feel horrible because I was like the skeptic sitting in every Bible study saying, ‘Well, if that’s true, what about this?’”

Fortunately, Crichton said, God gave her and her husband a small group willing to answer her questions in a loving manner, without frustration or judgment.

After several more months of uncertainty, which included a two-hour meeting with Scott Nichols, pastor of the Southern Baptist congregation, Crichton still had a hard time believing that Jesus is the only way.

“I just fired question after question and he kept responding with, ‘I understand you have these questions, but Jesus Christ is your Savior,’” she said. “And that just frustrated me. How can that be the only answer? I wanted answers.”

That’s when she began to read. She read “The Case for Christ,” “The Case for Faith” and “When Skeptics Ask,” among others. Slowly and steadily, Crichton’s spiritual eyes began to open.

She began to see that other religions put a heavy emphasis on humans working their way to perfection, whereas Christianity is the only religion that takes into account that humans are not perfect and never will be.

Another truth Crichton said was made clear was that not only was Jesus a wise teacher, but He boldly proclaimed He was the Son of God.

“So I either had to accept everything that He said or believe that He was a crazy man,” Crichton said. “I choose to believe everything He claimed.”

And for the Bible being the infallible Word of God, Crichton said it seemed so simple once she found the answer: because Jesus said it was.

“But also, when I started reading the Bible and diving into Bible studies, it became very clear that God had used imperfect men from the start to write His Word,” she said. “It became personal to me when verses would come to life right off of the pages and truly affect my choices and life in a way that I could not expect or hope for. It amazed me how intricate details were everywhere in the Bible that tied the New Testament directly to the Old, all of which seems impossible to be accomplished by men.”

When it comes to pinpointing the exact moment of her salvation, Crichton doesn’t know. She said, for her, it just didn’t happen that way.

“I remember one Sunday sitting in the kitchen and I looked to Jason and said, ‘You know, ... I don’t know if my family is saved,’” she recounted. “And to say ‘saved’ or ‘born again,’ that was not in my vocabulary. It made me uncomfortable to say such a thing. But saying that to Jason made me realize that I was.”

Now a stay-at-home mom to her two children, Crichton describes her Christian walk as slow, stubborn and constant. She and her husband are active members of Crossroads -- believers whom Crichton now considers part of her family. She said her church is a crucial ingredient to her ongoing struggle with doubt.

“And even when some of the doubt starts to creep back in and the questions start to haunt me, all I have to do is open the Bible and I am sure what I am reading is straight from God,” she said. “It’s been a very slow change, but it’s been a big change.”

Sermon for Easter 1994. John 20:24-31

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DOUBTING THOMAS

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I. We live in an age of doubt.

A. Many in our generation have "lost the faith."

B. Even with our doubts, many wish it could be different.

C. The ancient world had doubts as well.

II. Doubting is normal.

A. The Bible doesn't warn against "doubt" as such.

B. Doubt is the act of questioning, the expression of uncertainty.

C. Formaldehyde faith is dangerous.

III. Three areas of doubt.

A. Unbelief.

B. Intellectual scorn.

C. Doubt caused by dashed hope.

IV. Denying doubt is dangerous.

A. It leads to spiritual numbness.

B. Our faith is still under construction.

V. God will meet any honest seeker.

A. Christianity is not just for dumb, gullible people.

B. The Bible is written so we can have faith.

#2622

*

A while back in World magazine, interviewer Larry King was quoted as saying: “I can’t make that leap that a lot of people around me have made into belief that there’s some judge somewhere. I have a lot of respect for true people of faith ... . I’ve done so many interviews on it. I’ve always searched. But as someone said, 'Did you ever sit down and read the Bible cover to cover?' The answer’s no, because I don’t know who wrote it. I’m too in my head to be into faith. Faith is a wonderful thing. I envy people who have it. I just can’t make the leap.”

When comedienne Amy Poehler gave the commencement address at Harvard University’s 2011 graduation, she told the graduates, “Even though, as a class you are smart, you are still allowed to say, ‘I don’t know.’ Just because you are in high demand, you are still allowed to say, ‘Let me get back to you.’”

It is OK to use Ms. Poehler’s second answer to life’s hardest questions: Let me get back to you. But think about what this answer can mean.

First, when someone says, Let me get back to you, it can simply mean they’re in a hurry; they’re walking out the door and can’t stop to talk.

Second, it can mean, I have time to talk but I’m really not interested. It may mean, I am saying I’ll get back to you, but don’t count on it. This is rude -- definitely not recommended.

Third, let me get back to you may be a form of procrastination -- again, not a good reason to delay getting involved.

There’s something missing from all those replies: They don’t contain the promise of an answer. All they say is, I don’t have the knowledge, time or interest to respond right now.

Here is what I would recommend instead: When someone asks you a difficult question, consider a response that affirms the questioner and the question, allows you to be humble enough to admit you don’t know the answer, and allows you to commit yourself to serving the person by working to find an answer.

It allows you the opportunity to continue the conversation at a later time -- especially important if the person is someone who is curious about the Christian faith.

Q&A evangelism

Christians often are hesitant to share their faith with non-Christians because they fear being asked a question to which they don’t know the answer. And there are some hard questions to be asked and answered: How do you explain the evidence for dinosaurs and evolution? What will happen to people who die without hearing about Jesus?

These and other questions are reasonable and deserve reasonable answers. And there are answers to be found.

But there are also questions that come up when talking with a friend, neighbor or coworker -- personal questions that go to the heart of our faith: Our newborn baby has died -- do infants go to heaven? I’ve committed a terrible sin -- how can I know God will forgive me?

Whether you are asked a question that might call for a scholar’s reply or a question about living the Christian life, every Christian has the same responsibility to “be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you with meekness and fear” (1 Peter 3:15).

God doesn’t expect us to know everything at every given moment. But when we don’t know the answer, we should say, I don’t know. But I will find the answer and get back to you.

The quest for answers

The root word at the heart of the word “question” is “quest.” And quest doesn’t just mean “to search for something.” The dictionary says it is can be a long or arduous search. Built into the very idea of a question is the possibility that it will take some effort to find the answer (Proverbs 2:1-7).

Are you a “quester” (a questioner) when it comes to your own faith? As in having a desire for more and a deeper knowledge about God, His Word, His plan of redemption and the expansion of His Kingdom in the world. Are you a quester when it comes to knowing how to be a better spouse, a better parent, a wise steward of God’s gifts, a better employee or employer?

As Christians, we have been rescued from a kingdom of lies and darkness and transferred into the Kingdom of God’s Son (Colossians 1:12-14). Our entire reborn spiritual life should be a quest for God’s truth. Only by renewing our mind in His truth will we learn to know and discern His will (Romans 12:1-2).

Research tells us that childhood is when we learn the fastest and our senior years are when we learn the least. But guess what? Jesus said adults are to live with the innocence and curiosity of children all our lives! (Mark 10:15). We should all be enrolled in a lifelong school of continuing spiritual education. How? Be a personal student of God’s Word; attend a church that is faithful to build up the saints through strong and faithful teaching; read books of theology and practical Christian living; ask your pastor or others you trust for answers to your questions; and share your faith with others and help them gain the knowledge they need. In short, never stop learning!

And if you say, I don’t know, but I’ll find out and get back to you -- never fail to follow through.

It takes more than the right arguments to lead people to faith. (Running example of author witnessing to Andreas, a Swedish exchange student.)

1. Make the most of every opportunity.

How to work witnessing into everyday life.

2. Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders.

Listen to their hearts, not just their words.

Acknowledge good questions.

3. Let your conversation be full of grace, seasoned by salt.

Speak the truth, not pious lies. Be credible.

Do not make Christianity sound better than it is.

- Believing in Jesus does not solve all our problems.

We believe in Jesus because he is TRUE, not because it works.

4. Faith has spice when you're equipped.

Ever left speechless on these tough conversations about social issues? Ever think afterwards, why didn’t I say that? Well, here are six questions for your conversational toolkit.

Last week, at a gathering of strategists on some tough cultural issues, a very good point was made: Sometimes the right question at the right time is the best way to have a conversation with someone with whom you fundamentally disagree.

I couldn’t agree more, especially when the topic is something like same-sex marriage, religious freedom, or bathrooms at Target — when you know that to have an opinion counter to the new cultural orthodoxy is to be thought of as hateful or intolerant.

Our temptation is to think, “Oh, they won’t listen.” Maybe they won’t, but I think more times than we think, we can have conversations that are actual conversations. Sometimes we’re afraid we won’t know enough. Maybe that’s true, but in addition to basic knowledge, there are also skills for having these conversations that we can all acquire.

And one of these skills is being a good question asker. The power of asking questions is seen clearly in the two greatest educators of all time: Socrates and Jesus. Both men were master teachers. Both men knew most (and in the case of Jesus, all) the answers. Both men had a unique ability to lead others to those answers. And both men were great questioners.

Here are six questions I’ve found extremely helpful to create the sort of dialogue we should desire about issues of faith and culture.

First, What do you mean by that? The battle of ideas is always the battle over the definition of words. Thus, it’s vital in any conversation to clarify the terms being used. For example, the most important thing to clarify about whether same-sex marriage should be legal is the definition of marriage. So when the topic comes up, ask, “Hold on, before we go too far into what kind of unions should be considered marriage, what do you mean by marriage?” Often, when it comes to these crucial issues, we’re using the same vocabulary as those with whom we disagree, but not the same dictionary.

Here’s a second question: How do you know that is true? Too often, assertions are mistaken for arguments. There’s a vast difference between the two. An assertion is a definitive statement made about the nature of reality. An argument is presented to back up an assertion. By asking “how do you know that’s true?” you’ll move the conversation beyond two people merely asserting what they believe to why those assertions should be taken seriously.

For example, it’s still repeated that ten percent of any population is gay or lesbian, and that there’s a gay teen suicide epidemic. The first stat is based on the flawed research of Alfred Kinsey, and the second has been deeply challenged by a pro-gay researcher.

Here’s a third question is Where did you get this information? Once arguments are offered, it’s important to ensure the arguments are valid. For example, news reports love to shout that same-sex parents are better parents than straight couples — a talking point that’s based on very limited studies, while other studies suggest the exact opposite.

The fourth question: How did you come to this conclusion? Behind the person you are talking with and his/her convictions, is a story, a personal story. If you know that story, it may make more sense why they don’t find your views plausible. Plus, it’ll help you remember the person you’re talking with is a real, image-of-God bearing person.

The final two questions: What if you’re wrong? and What if you’re right? Ideas have consequences that are always worth considering. For example, with so little evidence, what if it’s wrong that kids just need loving parents, not a mom and a dad? That’s a big risk to play with the next generation.

Of course, if we’re asking for reasons, so will our conversation partners. And at BreakPoint.org, we’ve got a list of resources on these topics to help.

________

Copyright (c) 2016 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

[A Christmas commentary by an atheist]

I really did believe in Santa once, but I outgrew him; and I went on to outgrow God.

My mom told me the truth about the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus all in the same day -- the same day she told me about sex. There were two things wrong here. First, I would have preferred hearing about sex from my dad -- there's just something not right about a mother explaining sex to her son. Second, she left something out. I'm not talking about sex; she left out a lot about that because she really didn't know anything about it. What she left out was the fourth member of the mythological musketeers -- the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus AND the Christ -- Baby Jesus, Son of God, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Prince of Lies, and one of the primary reasons there is no peace in the world.

I remember being stunned by the news. Santa Claus, not real? Impossible! After all, I had the evidence. I had experienced Xmas* morning. I had wonderful memories of the event. I remember waking up in the wee hours of the morning in the small, dark room, seeing our aluminum Xmas tree sparkling in the glow of the light from the little gas heater (the old-fashioned, dangerous kind.) I would just lie in bed (it was too cold to get out from under the covers) and survey the magical, dimly-lit scene, waiting for the house to warm up and my parents to awaken so that I could open all the presents under the tree...presents that Santa had left.

There was further proof of Santa's existence in the half-eaten cookies and milk which I had placed out the night before; and a hand-written note to me (always printed) thanking me for the snack. Now my mother was telling me that it had all been a lie, a joke, a charade? I was devastated. I was also furious, but I had been taught well to keep my emotions 'under-control.’ However, inside I was furious because I was so humiliated. Just last year my mom had encouraged me to take a photograph to my third-grade Xmas party...a photograph of me and the 'real' Santa.

I had always been skeptical about all the different Santas I encountered around Xmas time. Some, in those days, even wore a hard plastic mask with bright rosy cheeks and eye-holes for them to see through, making them look like some strangely jolly Halloween ghoul. Mom always explained those away by telling me that they were Santa's helpers, his elves...he was just to busy to be everywhere. I accepted this.

Then, two years ago, while visiting my sister and her family in Arizona, I had encountered the 'real' Santa Claus in a department store in Tucson. I was thrilled. Anyone could see he was the real thing. His face was real, and he even wore little wire-rimmed spectacles just below his kind, blue eyes. I treasured the 5x7 framed photo of myself, seated on the 'real' Santa's knee.

Now it was suddenly apparent that I had been allowed...no, encouraged to make a complete fool of myself by proudly displaying my Santa photo in front of my teacher and all my friends. I really was humiliated. How could my mom have done this to me? How could I face my friends and my teacher, knowing what I know now? How many of them must have been laughing at me then?

To make matters worse, my mom was almost taunting me as she continued the revelations:

“You didn't really think that a big rabbit hopped around the neighborhood, leaving baskets of candy...did you?” she said, only half suppressing a chuckle.

“Heck, yes...I did!”, I thought silently. “Why wouldn't I? You've told me all my life that it was true. How was I to know you were lying to me? How could you have lied to me all these years? And why? What else have you told me that has been all lies?”

At this point a thought occurred to me and I asked, “What about Jesus?”

“What?” she said, her tone suddenly very serious.

“Well, is Jesus just make-believe, too...like the others?” (It seemed even to my young mind that he fit rather neatly into the same category as the rest.)

“No! Of course not! Don't ever say a thing like that. People won't like you.”

Here was the crux of my mom's philosophy of life, one that she stamped upon my young mind so indelibly that it's taken most of my fifty-two years to get rid of it -- ”The most important thing in life is for people to like you.”

Well, I won't even go into all the problems which that kind of thinking has caused me, except to say that it has made an honest admission of my atheism a very slow and difficult process. People (the 90% of Americans who believe in God) don't like atheists (the leftover 10%). So...if you want to be liked, it follows that you don't tell people that you're an atheist.

Finally, though, you reach a point in life where your priorities change. One day you realize that the most important thing in life is that you like yourself... to hell with other people! “To thine own self be true.” This is the matter of intellectual integrity that I brought up in a previous article. In my youth, however, I not only lied to others where my occasional skeptical thoughts were concerned -- I lied to myself, and very convincingly. After all, doubting the existence of God was a bad thing, everyone knew that; and I was trying to be a good person so that everyone would like me.

I went through the motions: I went to Sunday school and church, though my parents never did. I sang in the church choir. Music was always my main reason for going to church -- at least I was always able to admit that much to myself. I spent most of my life going through the motions; but there was always doubt, gnawing away deep down inside my mind.

The day that Santa Claus died, God did too, though it would take me many years to figure it out, years more to accept it as fact, and even longer to admit it publicly. Such is the tremendous hold of the lie of religious indoctrination on the young mind.

Here's a thought which just now occurred to me while writing this article: Take the song “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Substitute 'Jesus Christ' for 'Santa Claus' in the lyrics.

You'd better watch out.

You'd better not cry.

Better not pout; I'm tellin' you why...

Jesus Christ is coming to town.

He's making a list.

Checkin' it twice.

Gonna find out who's naughty or nice.

Jesus Christ is coming to town.

He sees you when you're sleepin'.

He knows when you're awake.

He knows if you've been bad or good;

So be good for goodness' sake.

And so on.......

It fits perfectly, doesn't it? Funny, though...he said he was coming so soon; it's been 2000 years and he's still not here. It makes you wonder who's more real... at least Santa Claus ate his cookies.

________

* I'm aware that the Xian folk resent the use of the X -- ”Put Christ back in Xmas,” they say. Well, I for one think that the more we can take him out, the better. Besides, it really doesn't change anything. If they were to try to educate themselves a little bit, to read something other than that favorite book of theirs, they would find that the Greek letter 'X' stands for 'Christos', so nothing really changes. The 'X' stands for Christ, no less so than the little plastic fish they place on the backs of their cars. Just for the record, my own little plastic fish has legs.

Rachael is Matt Slick’s daughter. She’s not a Christian. This is her story.

________

I was born in 1992. My parents named me Rachael, after the biblical wife Jacob loved.

One of my earliest memories is of my dad’s gigantic old Bible. Its pages were falling out, its margins were scrawled over with notes, and the leather cover was unraveled in places from being so worn out.

Every night, after we stacked up the dishes after our family dinner, he would bring it down and read a passage. I always requested something from the Book of Revelation or Genesis, because that’s where most of the interesting stories happened. After he was done, he’d close the Bible with a big WHUMP and turn to me.

“Now Rachael,” he would ask, “What is the hypostatic union?” and I would pipe back, “The two natures of Jesus!”

“What is pneumatology?” The study of the holy spirit!

“What is the communicatio idiomatum?” The communication of the properties in which the attributes of the two natures are ascribed to the single person!

Occasionally he would go to speak at churches about the value of apologetics and, the times I went along, he would call on me from the crowd and have me recite the answers to questions about theology. After I sat down, he would say, “My daughter knows more about theology than you do! You are not doing your jobs as Christians to stay educated and sharp in the faith.”

Conversation with him was a daily challenge. He would frequently make blatantly false statements — such as “purple dogs exist” — and force me to disprove him through debate. He would respond to things I said demanding technical accuracy, so that I had to narrow my definitions and my terms to give him the correct response. It was mind-twisting, but it encouraged extreme clarity of thought, critical thinking, and concise use of language. I remember all this beginning around the age of five.

I have two sisters, three and seven years younger than myself, and we were all homeschooled in a highly strict, regulated environment. Our A Beka schoolbooks taught the danger of evolution. Our friends were “good influences” on us, fellow homeschoolers whose mothers thought much alike. Obedience was paramount — if we did not respond immediately to being called, we were spanked ten to fifteen times with a strip of leather cut from the stuff they used to make shoe soles. Bad attitudes, lying, or slow obedience usually warranted the same — the slogan was “All the way, right away, and with a happy spirit.” We were extremely well-behaved children, and my dad would sometimes show us off to people he met in public by issuing commands that we automatically rushed to obey. The training was not just external; God commanded that our feelings and thoughts be pure, and this resulted in high self-discipline.

I recently came across this entry in a workbook I wrote when I was nine:

I’m hopeless.

Oh boy. I’ve got a lot to work on. I try to be obedient but it’s so hard! The more I read, the more I realize how bad I am! My problem is that when things don’t make sense to me, I don’t like them. When Dad gets mad at me for something, everything makes perfect sense to me in my mind, so I tend to resent my parents’ correction.

I have just realized that I yearn to please the lord, but why can’t I? I just can’t be good! It seems impossible. Why can’t I be perfect?

At this point, my dad was working at a tech job during the day and working in his office, writing and researching, at night. He developed a huge collection of books, with bookshelves that spanned the wall, full of Bibles and notebooks filled with theology. This was the early stages of the Christian Apologetics and Research Ministry.

It became a sort of game to watch him go “Mormon hunting”; if he saw them on the sidewalk, he’d pull up in the car to engage them in debate. After the Mormons visited our apartment a few times, they blacklisted us, and none of them ever visited us again. My dad was always very congenial to those he debated, and most viewed him as charismatic — though his debate tactics were ruthless and often more focused on efficiency than relationship-building.

We moved to Idaho when I was 12. My dad worked at Hewlett-Packard for a while but eventually made the big decision to make CARM his full-time career.

It was around this time my dad began receiving death threats — though I didn’t find this out until later. Someone was sending him graphic pictures, descriptive threats of rape against his family, and Google images of locations near our house. He got the FBI involved. They eventually determined it was someone from across the globe and likely posed no risk to us. My parents installed a home security system after that, but it only reinforced the “us vs. them” mentality he already held. My dad spoke frequently about the people “out to destroy him” and how his “enemies” were determined to obscure and twist the truth.

I wasn’t privy to a great deal of what went on behind the scenes at CARM — likely because I too young to fully understand it. A few times a year there would usually be an “event” that would capture most of his ire. For a while, it was the Universalists who were destroying his forums. Another time, it would be his arch-nemeses in the field of women in ministry or “troublemaking” atheists. Beyond these things, I knew little, except that I was immensely proud of my dad, who was smart, confident, and knew the Truth more than anybody else. I aspired to be like him — I would be a missionary, or an apologist! (Though not a pastor; I was a woman and thus unqualified for that field.) God was shaping my destiny.

As my knowledge of Christianity grew, so did my questions — many of them the “classic” kind. If God was all-powerful and all-knowing, why did He create a race He knew was destined for Hell? How did evil exist if all of Creation was sustained by the mind of God? Why didn’t I feel His presence when I prayed?

Having a dad highly schooled in Christian apologetics meant that every question I brought up was explained away confidently and thoroughly. Many times, after our nightly Bible study, we would sit at the table after my Mom and sisters had left and debate, discuss, and dissect the theological questions I had. No stone was left unturned, and all my uncertainty was neatly packaged away.

Atheists frequently wonder how an otherwise rational Christian can live and die without seeing the light of science, and I believe the answer to this is usually environment. If every friend, authority figure, and informational source in your life constantly repeat the same ideas, it is difficult not to believe they’re onto something. My world was built of “reasonable” Christians — the ones who thought, who questioned, who knew that what they believed was true. In the face of this strength, my own doubts seemed petty.

There was one belief I held onto strongly, though — the one that eventually led to my undoing. I promised myself “I will never believe in Christianity simply because it feels right, otherwise I am no better than those in any other religion I debate. I must believe in Christianity because it is the Truth, and if it is ever proven otherwise, I must forsake it no matter how much it hurts.”

Twice, I attended protests. Once, in front of an abortion clinic, and another time, at the Twin Falls Mormon Temple. I went to public high school for a few months, where I brought the Bible and a picture of my parents for a show-and-tell speech of the things we valued most. I befriended Cody, a World of Warcraft nerd, for the sole purpose of telling him he was going to Hell and that he needed to repent. Every time I heard someone swear in the school hallways, I would close my eyes and pray.

I informed my parents that I wanted an arranged marriage because love was a far too emotional and dangerous prospect, and I trusted them to make an informed choice for my future far better than I ever could. My romantic exploits through puberty were negligible.

I ran away from home when I was 17 (due to reasons not pertinent to this post) and went to college the following year. I must have been a nightmare in my philosophy and religion classes, raising my hands at every opportunity and spouting off well-practiced arguments. Despite this, my philosophy professor loved me, and we would often meet after class, talking about my views on God. Even though he tried to direct me away from them, I was insistent about my beliefs: If God didn’t exist, where did morality come from? What about the beginning of the universe? Abiogenesis? There were too many questions left by the absence of God, and I could not believe in something (godlessness, in this case) that left me with so little closure. My certainty was my strength — I knew the answers when others did not.

This changed one day during a conversation with my friend Alex. I had a habit of bouncing theological questions off him, and one particular day, I asked him this: If God was absolutely moral, because morality was absolute, and if the nature of “right” and “wrong” surpassed space, time, and existence, and if it was as much a fundamental property of reality as math, then why were some things a sin in the Old Testament but not a sin in the New Testament?

Alex had no answer — and I realized I didn’t either. Everyone had always explained this problem away using the principle that Jesus’ sacrifice meant we wouldn’t have to follow those ancient laws.

But that wasn’t an answer. In fact, by the very nature of the problem, there was no possible answer that would align with Christianity.

I still remember sitting there in my dorm room bunk bed, staring at the cheap plywood desk, and feeling something horrible shift inside me, a vast chasm opening up beneath my identity, and I could only sit there and watch it fall away into darkness. The Bible is not infallible, logic whispered from the depths, and I had no defense against it. If it’s not infallible, you’ve been basing your life’s beliefs on the oral traditions of a Middle Eastern tribe. The Bible lied to you.

Everything I was, everything I knew, the structure of my reality, my society, and my sense of self suddenly crumbled away, and I was left naked.

I was no longer a Christian. That thought was a punch to the gut, a wave of nausea and terror. Who was I, now, when all this had gone away? What did I know? What did I have to cling to? Where was my comfort?

I didn’t know it, but I was free.

For a long time I couldn’t have sex with my boyfriend (of over a year by this point) without crippling guilt. I had anxiety that I was going to Hell. I felt like I was standing upon glass, and, though I knew it was safe, every time I glanced down I saw death. I had trouble coping with the fact that my entire childhood education now essentially meant nothing — I had been schooled in a sham. I had to start from scratch in entering and learning about this secular world. Uncertainty was not something I was accustomed to feeling. Though I had left Christianity intellectually, my emotional beliefs had yet to catch up.

Eventually I worked up the courage to announce my choice on Facebook — which generated its own share of controversy. I’m fairly certain I broke my mother’s heart. Many people accused me of simply going through a rebellious stage and that I would come around soon. Countless people prayed for me.

I don’t know how my dad reacted to my deconversion; I haven’t spoken to him since I left home.

There was no miracle to cure me of the fear and pain, no God to turn to for comfort. But it did heal. Eventually. I only barely fear Hell now, and my instinct to pray only turns up on rare occasions. For a while now, I’ve been educating myself in science, a world far more uncertain than the one I left, but also far more honest.

Someone once asked me if I would trade in my childhood for another, if I had the chance, and my answer was no, not for anything.

My reason is that, without that childhood, I wouldn’t understand what freedom truly is — freedom from a life centered around obedience and submission, freedom to think anything, freedom from guilt and shame, freedom from the perpetual heavy obligation to keep every thought pure. Nothing I’ve ever encountered in my life has been so breathtakingly beautiful.

Freedom is my God now, and I love this one a thousand times more than I ever loved the last one.

"There is a wonderful word - Why? - that children, all children use. When they stop using it, the reason too often is that no one bothered to answer them. No one focused and cultivated the child's innate sense of the adventure of life."

Eleanor Roosevelt (1884 - 1962)

U.S. First Lady and humanitarian

Cited in BITS & PIECES

In May 2020, Jon Steingard, the lead singer for the popular Christian band Hawk Nelson, announced on Instagram that he no longer believes in God. His story is a long one filled with doubts and theological wrestling over many years.

Steingard joins a growing list of popular ex-Christians with “de-conversion stories.” Others include author and purity advocate Joshua Harris, Hillsong United’s Marty Sampson, and YouTube influencers Rhett & Link.

Ron Hutchcraft of Ron Hutchcraft Ministries says declarations like Steingard’s are all missing one thing: Jesus.

“Let’s keep in mind Jesus never said follow my leaders. He never said follow my followers. He never said follow my musicians. He never said follow my preachers. He said, ‘Follow me.’

“So the only reason ... to be a part of this whole Christian thing or to leave it is if you’ve got a problem with Jesus. Because it’s all about Jesus.”

In response to Steingard’s Instagram post, other Christian singers and musicians responded to the Hawk Nelson lead who writes he “agonized over whether to say this publicly ....” Jeremy Camp, Tenth Avenue North’s Mike Donehey, and Matt Hammitt of Sanctus Real all offered their love and willingness to talk about faith issues with Steingard.

“They’ve modeled Christ by how they have reached out in love and grace to their brother,” Hutchcraft says. “I’m sure that might have been hard to do ... but they have simply modeled how real Jesus really is.”

For all believers — those wrestling with doubt and those who feel firm in their faith — it’s important to examine what exactly our Christian label rests on.

First, Hutchcraft says, “It’s not about Christian activities. [Some individuals stay] very busy with serving Jesus and doing things for Him. It’s not about activities. It’s not about church. It’s not about Christians. The only thing that keeps our faith really strong is our daily, personal experiences with Jesus. Just to have Christian beliefs, go to Christian meetings, or do Christian work is not enough.

“Jesus even said in Matthew 7 that there will come a judgment day when people will say, ‘We cast out demons in your name. We know all the verses. We preached in your name!’ Yet, somehow, they missed the relationship and that’s the only thing that really matters here .... That relationship begins with an act of your heart, not just your head.”

A part of Hutchcraft’s ministry is encouraging believers to look back on their life and learn to share their hope story – how Jesus makes the difference in life’s struggles and painful times.

For Hutchcraft, it’s a practice that hits close to home. “I have to tell you, for all of the questions I might ask over the years, I have seen Jesus work in my life as a result of being in His Word on a daily basis and keeping a journal of that. That makes it impossible to explain my life — literally impossible to explain it — without Jesus. That’s where the reality is. Without daily experiences with Jesus, you have a vulnerable faith.”

He also says for believers wrestling with specific doubts, “Don’t stuff your doubts. It appears from what I have read [from Steingard is] that there were doubts for years. We’re always afraid of what people will think.”

Ultimately, Hutchcraft says, “When a pastor, a musician, an influencer claims that they don’t believe anymore, it doesn’t mean that’s a reason for you not to. It means it’s a reason to make sure that Christ is in your heart — not just in your head — to feed your relationship with Him with daily time with Him, [and] to not stuff your doubts but talk about them. There are answers. But nobody can answer a question you’re not asking. And look at life, look at all of the struggles through the place where God’s Son died for you.

“Keep your eyes on Jesus. It’s all about Him. He is the author and the completer of our faith. Our strength in belief is based on who Jesus is and not on anybody who’s trying to follow Him.”

Convictions will “drive you through life, especially in the toughest seasons of the soul,” Christian apologist Ravi Zacharias told a Southern Baptist Convention in Dallas in 2018.

Zacharias, president of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Ga., shared a message entitled, “Convictions that conquered the world.” He explained the difference between convictions and opinion along with how convictions shape and mold people.

“An opinion is something you have,” Zacharias said. “A conviction is something that has you. It holds you, it is what motivates you, it is the intelligence in your soul and you can never change a conviction without changing who you are. It is ultimately your convictions that will drive you through life, especially in the toughest seasons of the soul.”

Zacharias preached from Acts 7 and emphasized the importance of “questioning our questioners.”

“When you question your questioner, it opens your questioner up in two ways: It opens them up within their assumptions and it opens up the entry point of the discussion,” he said.

In his sermon, Zacharias gave three truths to “why multitudes fall on their knees in front of God.”

• They saw the finger of God in all of history and Christ as its central figure.

• They harnessed an area of persecution and transformed it to a platform of opportunity.

• The priority of a person over methodology.

The importance of God’s finger in all of history can be seen with Christ at the center, Zacharias said. He noted that a question from Jewish leaders contained in one verse receives 50 verses from Stephen as an answer, going all the way back to Abraham.

He uses Luke 24 as an example of everything the prophets had written coming to pass. “The Lord connects all of the dots for the disciples,” Zacharias said. “He gave all of history meaning.”

As Christians go through persecution, God uses it for a purpose toward His greater good, Zacharias noted.

“[God] changes an arena of pain into a platform of opportunity,” he said. “It is critical to know that when we go through pain, that we understand that God has a pattern and a program to bring us through for the purposes that He has in life.”

Zacharias emphasized that God’s method throughout history has always been through a person, “God raises up a voice, God raises up a pen, and God changes history.”

“Never lose hope,” he said. “There will never be another Billy Graham, but God will raise up somebody who Billy Graham could never have been.”

As an example of God changing hearts, Zacharias preached of Saul of Tarsus being the man who oversaw Stephen’s murder in Acts, becoming Paul the apostle and how his influence had changed history, now being one of the most beloved names in Christianity.

“God can use you, He can change your heart and put a new song in your heart, put a pen in your hand and make a difference for history,” Zacharias said. “You may be in the audience today for whom God is going to chart a course for the future, never underestimate that.”