Changing My Religion
If someone asked me why I think Christianity is true, I would struggle to come up with a quick answer. That doesn’t mean I believe without a reason. It just means I cannot identify a discrete reason, a particular argument that is the reason. No doubt, some can point to a particular argument that led them to believe, but the best I can say is that I believe Christianity is true based on a large, complex set of beliefs I have about reality. Worldviews aren’t simple and neither are the reasons we believe them.[1]
Similarly, for many people that Christians want to reach with the gospel, their change of mind won’t be from one slam-dunk argument. It will likely be the effect of a long deliberation over a large quantity of information. That’s not to say a single argument never produces belief. It is just to say that it often doesn’t.
What Role Does Reason Play?
What role does reason play in coming to believe Christianity is true? There are, I think, a couple of errors we make in considering what role reason plays in religious changes of mind. First, one might think that religious changes of mind are nothing to do with reason, arguments, or anything philosophers or historians can help with. Fideism, in its strongest form, says that faith and reason have nothing to do with each other. Indeed, reason might be said to oppose faith. Hence, when considering a religious change of mind, one should ignore the deliverances of our rational faculties and rely on an experience related only to what is non-rational.
On the other hand, someone might suggest that arguments and reason should be entirely computational. We should rationally calculate conclusions from evidence like a computer.[2] We might deduce conclusions or infer inductively or using some other rules of non-deductive reasoning.
In large part, a good reason for rejecting both extremes is that very few people could achieve either of them. We don’t merely leap when we change a religious belief. We usually incorporate some rule-guided reasoning. Neither do we merely compute our answers using logical rules. So, neither view captures what we generally do when we consider making changes to our mind on religious matters. We might change our mind computationally because of particular arguments or beliefs, but religious commitments are much more general than one or two beliefs about particular objects or events.
What Happens When We Change Our Minds?
To help see the kind of process we undergo, some analogies help. First, consider map reading. When deliberating over one’s journey, one is working through a series of independent issues about roads, terrain, weather, and the likelihood of traffic at certain times. One then deliberates and selects a route. According to Robert Audi, belief systems are arrived at using a similar process:
“Our belief systems are our maps of the world. Much as a map that shows many paths to a destination provides one with a choice of which path is best, a multitude of arguments can offer dialectical choices and indeed different routes to understanding or to shoring up conviction in one’s own case.”[3]
According to Audi, one works through the ‘map’ of reality and finds oneself coming to a position on the matter. Think of each issue one confronts on the map as individual arguments for or against a Christian belief. One works through issues and then assesses the overall case for the options, judging one to be better than the rest.
Consider the process of biblical interpretation. A preacher spends his week working on his text for the Sunday sermon. He begins with the details and the context, working out what the author meant by a term or a sentence. At some point in the process things start to come together. It is perhaps the most rewarding part of the work for the preacher and what gives him a certain joy in sharing it on Sunday. But ask him how things came together, he’d be hard pressed to say. You could ask him what reasons he has for thinking Paul meant x by y, but how the whole thing came together is much more difficult to describe.
As John Feinberg describes the experience, “While reflecting on the various data one knows, all of a sudden (or perhaps less suddenly) ‘the light goes on’ as the interpreter ‘sees’ how all of the passages (and the facts, concepts, etc.) fit together.”[4] Such an experience can be compared coming to believe a different worldview. Consequently, when we present our reasons for believing Christianity, we have to present multiple lines of evidence. As Feinberg comments,
We might…view a worldview and its confirmation along the lines of what we do when we offer an interpretation of a complex piece of literature. Seldom is there only one possible interpretation; individual interpreters must marshal a variety of evidences, textual and extratextual, to support their particular interpretation of the text.[5]
Analogous to interpretation of a literary work is the process of changing one’s religious beliefs. We process enormous amounts of information only some of which is in the form of appraising arguments. But at some point, things “come together.” We see things as a whole and judge that way of seeing things as the right way.
Finally, consider the task of a juror in a courtroom. Serving on a jury, one is asked to weigh a large body of evidence and conclude whether the evidence supports the guilt of the accused beyond reasonable doubt. It is not clear how this happens. But people can do it. Of course, some people can’t or won’t. Some people have very poor judgment. And other people have very strong biases. But when talking about the ideal juror, we don’t think of an ideal calculator, nor do we think of a person who takes a leap of faith in their verdict! Instead, we think of the ideal juror as having made a good overall judgement, having produced a verdict.
Mike Huemer calls the effect of this kind of process, judging. As he defines it, “Judgment is usually based on a complex set of information, but one has no algorithm for going from that information to the conclusion.”[6] If Huemer is right, then coming to form Christian beliefs is a judgment we make the process of which is unknown to us. We know it has taken place because we can experience its effects—becoming a believer—but the process itself isn’t transparent to us.
Conversations with Nonbelievers
From the analogies, we can draw some practical conclusions.
First, we should recognize that each argument matters but is not always decisive. Each argument counts towards the conclusion, but it may not, on its own, prove conclusive. Indeed, often we change our minds about something not due to each individual argument but the number of arguments. Often the contribution of one conversion we may have with a friend is a part of a whole set of evidence the friend is considering. It may not be our conversation in which a judgment is reached, but it is no less important.
Second, apologetics must start in the details. If we are to give reasons to believe, we must start with propositions for which there can be arguments made either in their favor or against. Just as map reading, a court case, or an interpretation of Scripture must begin at one point, so our discourse with non-believers must do the same. It is very difficult to argue for everything all at once. If one must start somewhere, it is open to us to find topics for which the non-believer will find plausible. One might begin with common sense, intuitions, an experience, science, or a difficulty facing the Christian that requires a solution.
Of course, there are some propositions that are more consequential than others. Belief in the existence of God, the resurrection of Jesus, or the reliability of the Bible are all very consequential beliefs in that they have far-reaching effects on our other beliefs. For example, if one believes that God exists, then one is more likely to accept that a miracle has occurred. Similarly, if one accepts the reliability of the gospel accounts, one is more likely to accept the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. And if one accepts that Jesus rose from the dead, one will likely form the belief that God exists. It is for this reason that those three beliefs are the beliefs most likely to be central in any book on defending the faith.
Third, we should recognize that people have varying capacities to judge evidence. Someone with good judgment can rightly appraise large quantities of evidence. Poor judgment leads people to accept incoherent, implausible, or unlivable worldviews. One should recognize that some people aren’t as reasonable as others. We might even recognize that we aren’t being as reasonable as we ought! If one finds this to be the case, the best strategy is to find a place for them (or us) in which they will pick up rationality (a good Bible study is not a bad idea!).
Fourth, we should recognize that some people will reject conclusions even if they think the case for it is a good one. Just as sometimes people do something they know they shouldn’t, they will disbelieve something they have a good reason to believe. There can be lots of reasons for resistance including beliefs about Christians generally, fear of losing societal approval, or dogmatic commitments to alternative views.
Finally, we should recognize the role of the Holy Spirit. The process by which we come to believe isn’t transparent, involving, as it does, weighing of large quantities of evidence—both for and against—a complex set of propositions. Clearly, coming to a judgment takes work. It isn’t a mystical or immediate process. It involves using our minds. But it isn’t a work we perform on our own. The Spirit plays multiple roles, guiding our attention, assuring us of a truth, convicting us of some failing in ourselves, and otherwise bringing about our Christian convictions.
Generally, the Spirit uses ordinary means by which to achieve his end. God brings about the effect via both objective and subjective means.[7] He acts to bring about inspired revelation (the objective part), but he also acts internally, guiding us to notice something we have not noticed before. He also brings about changes of affections, desires, and aims.
In sum, though we cannot always tell what brings about a change in mind, it isn’t non-rational. Hence, Christians ought to present good arguments for what we believe even if we can’t tell what effect they will have on others.
References
[1] The same is true for alternative worldviews such as atheism. As Thomas Kelly comments, “Consider…two different bases for atheism. Undoubtedly, some atheists believe as they do because of some relatively discreet piece of reasoning…But alternatively one might disbelieve in God for the following reason: given everything else that one takes to be true about reality, one judges that it’s extremely improbable that any such being exists” Thomas Kelly, “Disagreement and the Burdens of Judgment,” in The Epistemology of Disagreement, eds. David Christensen and Jennifer Lackey (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 39.
[2] The overall point I am making comes from Michael Huemer, Understanding Knowledge (United States: Michael Huemer, 2022), 125.
[3] Robert Audi, “Cumulative Case Arguments in Religious Epistemology,” in Oxford Studies in Philosophy of Religion Vol. 8, ed. Jonathan L. Kvanvig (New York: Oxford University Press, 2017), 6.
[4] John S. Feinberg, Light in a Dark Place: The Doctrine of Scripture (Wheaton: Crossway, 2018), chapter 15.
[5] John Feinberg, Can You Believe It’s True? (Wheaton: Crossway, 2013), 169.
[6] Michael Huemer, Understanding Knowledge (United States: Michael Huemer, 2022), 125.
[7] A distinction Paul Feinberg makes in “Cumulative Case Apologetics” in Five Views on Apologetics, ed. Stephen Cowan (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000), 156–164.