Similarly, second, we can ask them where they get their views on human equality. Right now, in Western culture, we champion the weak, the poor, and the marginalized. But why ought this be so? Where did this notion come from? Did it just drop out of the sky to us? But if I hold to the Christian worldview, I can appeal to how the God of the Bible is the champion of the underdog—Abel over Cain, Sarah over Hagar, Jacob over Esau, Leah over Rebecca, Israel over the nations. I can point out how Jesus hung out with the marginalized. Or how Jesus, the Son of God, lowered himself and became a slave who died an outcast’s death on a cross (Philippians 2:5-8)!
But if I don’t have this Christian worldview, how can I defend my views on human equality? I can’t appeal to Mother Nature or to the animal kingdom. Animal behavior and society are brutally hierarchical. I can’t appeal to this being hard-wired into us as part of our evolutionary instincts. Even if this were true in the past, why ought it continue to be true for me, the individual, in the present? Moreover, our ideas of human equality are very Western. If I impose these views, aren’t I guilty again of another form of Western cultural superiority?
Again, third, we can ask them why we can believe in human freedom. Freedom is almost the chief idol of the West. It’s enshrined in our national anthems (France, USA, Australia, Canada, etc). It’s in the American Declaration of Independence. It’s in the French Revolution’s motto Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité. But apart from mottos and national anthems, where do we get the idea that humans ought to be free? At least, if I have a Christian worldview, I can appeal to God who created freely, and gave human beings choices, responsibilities, and free will. I can point out that the word “free” appears almost 200 times in the Bible. I can appeal to Jesus Christ, who comes to set us free (Luke 4:18; John 8:32). Indeed, salvation in the Bible is construed as freedom (Rom. 6:7).
But what if I don’t believe in God? What is freedom? If we are nothing but atoms and molecules, then we can only be living in a mechanical universe of cause and effect. This is a universe of determinism, where freedom is only an illusion. And yet, we hold people accountable for their choices. Witness the recent #MeToo movement and calling out culture. The very premise of these movements is that humans do indeed have freedom and can make morally accountable choices. But where does this freedom come from if there is no God?
Moreover, we talk about freedom as freedom from constraints. That is to say, we ought to be free from traditional constraints of religion, social norms, and pressures to conform. But without God, once these constraints are removed, we have no idea what we’re free for. What exactly are we supposed to do with our freedom? We are rudderless. We have no direction. This is because we actually don’t know why we’re here on this planet. If there is no God, and we’re here by random, blind, chance, then any talk of purpose is meaningless. And, worse, if we don’t have to be here, it’s only a small leap to start talking about how we shouldn’t be here. We’re only in the way of other, more important life forms.
So what are we free for? To answer this requires knowing our purpose. But any talk of purpose requires knowing our design. A watch’s purpose is to tell time, because that is what it’s designed for. A pen’s purpose is to write, because that is what it’s designed for. A lamp’s purpose is to give light, because that is what it’s designed for. Without design, any talk of purpose is meaningless. And so, if we are to have any sense of purpose, we need to know what is our design. But to do this requires knowing our Designer. This is why Jesus claims to give us freedom (John 8:32). We will not only be set free from constraints, but we will also know what we’re set free for. This is because if we know Jesus, we will know our Designer. And our chief purpose is to be fulfilled in Jesus.
Our friend might reply that they can create their own purpose. Purpose can come from within, rather than from an external source. But we can then gently point out that the problem with this is that any talk of purpose ultimately requires an external reference point. Otherwise we will play a game of infinite regress. For example, if my friend says that the purpose of life is to raise children, I can ask why? They might say that it’s so the children can be happy. But I can ask why. In the end, whatever they pursue—success, happiness, status—is purposeless unless it connects with a bigger story than just their own.
Trying to create our own purpose is like a nation that just prints money. You can’t generate wealth just by printing money. The money by itself has no value unless it’s linked to an external reference point. In the same way, we can’t create our own purpose. We can try, but ultimately it will be valueless unless we can link it to an external reference point—i.e., God’s purpose for us.
Fourth, we can gently challenge the current cultural narrative. Right now, in the West, secularism is the unchallenged norm. The narrative goes something like this. We once believed in God, fairies, and unicorns. But as we became more and more enlightened we became rational and stopped believing in the supernatural. And so, if we can subtract away our past superstitious beliefs, and realize that we’re only atoms and molecules, then we can be free to be who we really are. The only thing holding us back are those who still haven’t got with the program yet—i.e., religious people who still believe in God, who continue to oppress us with their outdated beliefs, traditions, and morals. But if we can courageously be true to ourselves, we will discover the authentic selves within, and we can discover and pursue our full potential. Chase your dreams and don’t let anyone else tell you who to be. More than this, this is the arc of history—i.e., humankind will become more and more free to pursue happiness on its own terms. We can either join the progressives along this storyline or be left behind on the “wrong side of history.”
We should applaud the many positives in this narrative. For example, for many of us, we are who we are because of this storyline. We didn’t have to follow our father’s footsteps and do the same job he did; instead, we could choose to do what we loved. We didn’t have to stay in the town of our birth; instead, we were free to move to another town for study or work. We didn’t have to marry someone from our own tribe or race; instead, we could choose our own romantic partners.
But at the same time, there are a few things that we can gently critique in this narrative. For a start, this narrative is an over-the-top Western narrative of rugged individualism, egalitarianism, and privilege. It assumes we can make choices that for many people, both inside and outside the USA, are just impossible. What if the hospital cleaner wants to be an astronaut? Should she leave her job—which is paying the bills and putting her kids through college—just to chase her dreams? Is she any less authentic—or less true to herself—for being a cleaner?