How far would you go...to defend your belief in God?
Present-day college freshman and devout Christian Josh Wheaton (Shane Harper) finds his faith challenged on his first day of philosophy class by the dogmatic and argumentative Professor Radisson (Kevin Sorbo). Radisson begins class by informing students that they will need to disavow, in writing, the existence of God on the first day or face a failing grade. As other students in the class begin scribbling the words "God is dead" on pieces of paper as instruction, Josh finds himself at a crossroads, having to choose between his faith and his future. Josh offers a nervous refusal, provoking an irate reaction from his smug professor. Radisson assigns him a daunting task: if Josh will not admit that God is dead, he must prove God's existence by presenting well-researched, intellectual arguments and evidence over the course of the semester, and engage Radisson in a head-to-head debate in front of the class. If Josh fails to convince his classmates of God's existence, he will fail the course and hinder his lofty academic goals. With almost no one in his corner, Josh wonders if he can really fight for what he believes. Can he actually prove the existence of God?
I was 18 years old when I started to doubt.
Less than two months after graduating from high school, I packed up all my things, piled them into a van and hit the road, St. Thomas University bound for my first year of studies. I felt ready for it - I didn't venture far while growing up in small-town Nova Scotia and even though I had never been to Fredericton and didn't know anyone there, I was excited a chance to disconnect from some of the hurt and sadness home had come to hold over the years. Leaving meant a fresh start, an opportunity to live a life defined by the present instead of the past.
I picked St. Thomas University for two reasons: it had a journalism program and they gave me a big pile of money to pay tuition. The second reason was the deciding one. Growing up, I had my heart set on going to University of Kings College in Halifax and while I got into the school (and its journalism program through early admissions), STU made a much better offer for a student who wouldn't have been able to ever afford university otherwise.
Journalism at STU is tiered program, meaning admission is based on the completion of several pre-requiste courses and there's an application process to select candidates for the major. It took a year and a half to complete the pre-requisites which meant, for a year and a half, prospective students take one journalism course a semester and fill the rest of the slots with other courses (BA requirements, electives, whatever). Along with my two journalism courses, my first year classes included political science, sociology, French and English.
With exception to my journalism classes, the English course I took in first year was my favourite class. Actually, it would be fair to say the English classes I took at STU were the best courses I took during my entire undergrad. And despite where this story is heading, I should note that's a position I maintain, although the reasons have changed over the years.
What I liked about the English courses I took was the focus on critical thinking. That's what a Liberal arts degree is supposed to be all about and although I took a lot of really great classes, no course I took emphasized this more than first year English. I was exposed to so many different things through this class. I learned to love poetry and to hate Shakespeare less. I wrote papers that actually required some time and thought. I worked hard for my grades.
The most important thing, though, was that I was introduced to some ideas and thoughts about life and existence that I hadn't considered in any great deal before as an 18-year-old who grew up in the church. For the first time, I had some meaningful exposure to concepts like existentialism and humanism, the idea that we're all in this together and questions related to how authority is assigned. Perhaps most significant, the course wasn't centred on a goal of swaying opinions to one side or another - the purpose was to encourage us to think, to look at what we believe and consider the reasons why we believe it.
The professor made it clear from the start that he wasn't the authority on truth - what he wanted to see was for us as students to learn how to develop our arguments and defences for the things we think and believe.
I spent my first year reading and researching and writing and thinking. And by the end of my first year, all that reading and researching and writing and thinking had me wondering why I believed the things I believed. I knew the answer to that question wasn't going to be an easy one and the process of spending any great deal of time examining that stressed me out.
So I settled - decided not to worry too much about it, to be OK with a lukewarm faith and to just focus on living my life now.
(Because that's always a good plan, right?)
They on the rock are they, which, when they hear, receive the word with joy; and these have no root, which for a while believe, and in time of temptation fall away.
Luke 8:13
I started this blog not long after I started making my way back to God. In the first post, I wrote about an incident where I watched a homeless man taking a seizure underneath a tree located near my apartment. It was a defining moment for me, but it certainly wasn't the first of its kind. Much like my reading and research in university made me skeptical, my skepticism brought questions, too.
Why do bad things happen to good people? Why is there so much conflict in the world? What about poverty and illness and human suffering? Why bother going through so much terrible stuff if in the end, we all just die and there's nothing else?
I've seen a lot of the abovementioned queries brought to life over the last few years. At work, I cover stories of tragedy, talking to people who's just watched their home and everything that's had burn to the ground or to parents who've just lost a loved one. I've watched family and friends cope with grief and illness and struggle with heavy burdens. Living apart from God, I'd try to find a reason, to figure out what the point of all this suffering is, but I could never find an answer.
After a point, I was tired of feeling hopeless. I had seen enough of what a world without God and what living only for the now had to offer. I was happy I saw it and glad for what I had learned, but I was ready to go home.
because the more that I'm tripping out thinking there must be more to life
well, it's life, but I'm sure there's gotta be more than wanting to more.
Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves. Know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates.
2 Corinthians 13:5
In English class, we talked a lot about the Hero's Journey. This journey involves a starting point, a place where the hero feels comfortable and at ease, before traveling down an unfamiliar path. On this path, the hero meets several obstacles that challenge and test thoughts and ideas and physical limitations; these things aren't always easy but they're essential to growth and development. This is the descent into the unknown, a descent that takes the hero as far away as possible from the known, the place where he or she began. Then begins the journey back, the upswing, the return to the familiar, except at this point, the hero has changed, the result of what he or she experienced on the journey.
I know I'm not the first person to wander. I won't be the last, either. What I can say, though, is while I used to feel a lot of shame for not being more confident in my faith, the journey helped in a way because the end result was a faith that's stronger and more certain than anything I've ever experienced.
I don't have all the answers - I never will - but I have hope and I have peace knowing this life isn't where it ends.
It's just the beginning.
Now I'm lost in your freedom
and this world I'll overcome.
My God's not dead, he's surely alive!
