When it comes to education, it does not matter what one learns, but the world that one creates from having learned something new. This is perhaps why I love history; learning about the Battle of Waterloo and the construction of the Great Pyramid at Giza—things that happened “then”—brings them back to life in my own mind.
But what happens when one encounters an idea? When I was in high school, I was presented with an idea that shattered my worldview. I was sitting in Modern European History, furiously scribbling notes as Mr. Abdella rattled off a million facts, names, and dates. The course had focused on the corruption and scandals of the Catholic Church during the Renaissance period, and we had moved onto the rationalism of the Enlightenment thinkers. More specifically, Mr. Abdella stopped to give some attention to Deism, the worldview that posits God as a detached Creator of the world, who has now left us to our own devices.
Having grown up in the Melkite Catholic church, I had never come into contact with this view before. I had many friends who were either atheist or agnostic, but I had never felt threatened or substantively challenged by their worldview. But to my mind, this new philosophy known as Deism was more nuanced; it actually seemed self-evident.
In the subsequent hours, days, and weeks, I spent many hours thinking through the worldview, and I ultimately decided that it fit the world. The implication was thus, that God created the world, but did not care for our worship, nor did He care for us, which made religion a lie. I felt duped and deceived, and came to view believers as suckers being voluntarily swindled by powerful people.
There is a problem with this worldview. Well, there are many problems, the most glaring of which is the treatment of Jesus of Nazareth. In order for the worldview to genuinely fit the world, the ministry of Jesus on Earth must be obfuscated; His miracles, healings, Passion, death, Resurrection, and Ascension must be disregarded. And this was something I was able to do for some time. I never even really considered Jesus as an idea worth considering, at least, not until I started attending the St. Thomas More Society (STM).
Dr. Hudson was my professor for Perspectives I, and he and I had a strong relationship early in the fall. We would often challenge each other in class, and had a great time discussing ideas. So when he spoke at STM, I decided I would attend, with the intention of challenging him in front of the audience. How humble.
When it came time for the Q&A, I raised my hand, and began to (respectfully) argue with him. We had a fun and engaging dialogue. Then, George raised his hand to ask a question—of me. It was a simple question: who did I think Jesus was. Of course, the topic I did not want to discuss—the great hole in my worldview—was what I was forced to confront in front of a large group of people. Leave it to the expert in Christian apologetics to confront me with the powerful counterargument to my claim.
What started out as my self-admittedly arrogant attempt to show up a professor in front of his students, many of whom are now my dear friends, turned into an interrogation about my own lack of perspective. I had no real answer to George’s question, at least, no intellectually honest one, so I tried to dodge. And I dodged right into the Christological Trilemma: Christ is either the Lord, a liar, or a lunatic. I tried to weasel my way out of his simple but compelling logic, but the fact that I had to do that was quite telling to me that my worldview was not compatible with reality. As an aspiring historian, I should’ve known better than to let my argument presuppose the evidence. George’s interrogation was humbling. And necessary.
A couple weeks later, I found myself in church of my own volition for the first time in almost four years. The Gospel that night was from Luke 15, the Parable of the Lost Sheep. What are the odds? Technically, they are one in 365, but in the words of my high school headmaster, “I think I am too wise to believe that’s a mere coincidence.” Personally, I look back at my unplanned debate with George as God humbling my intellect so that I could come to believe again.
Tom is a senior in the Lynch School, where he is studying Secondary Education, History, and Philosophy, with a minor in Restorative Justice. He is President of the Boston College Republicans, and President emeritus of the St. Thomas More Society. When not taking too many classes or writing for The Torch or The Free Press, Tom loves to watch sports, listen to metal music, and defend Leo Strauss against (unfair) accusations of Gnosticism.
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As a former Catholic who is now a Deist, I find your article interesting. When I first became a Deist, back in September or October of 1984, it was very difficult to really see that Jesus was likely only a religious myth. If Jesus really did exist, he was a mere mortal who was a religious Jew who believed the cruel and ungodly Hebrew Bible was the Word of God. For a Catholic, or any type of Christian, to confront the facts about Jesus, and apply their gift from God of innate reason to it, is very difficult. However, once it is done, it is a huge relief to be free of that myth.
God Gave Us Reason, Not Religion! Bob Johnson