Why Learning the Truth Matters

Those of us with an interest in apologetics sometimes get caught up in the art of argumentation. We enjoy the process of analyzing and responding to the claims of skeptics; we take satisfaction in pointing out the flaws in our adversaries’ arguments. We look for better, and more persuasive, ways of making our points. Sometimes we get so caught up in the process that we forget why we began to pursue this avocation in the first place.

When I’m asked that question, my response is straightforward: I count myself a follower of Jesus of Nazareth because I believe that Christianity is true. To be more specific: I believe it is true that Jesus is who he said he is and that he died and rose again as he said he would do.  This makes him quite unique in the history of the world, and worth learning about it.  He made some promises to us and I want to know if they are true, because they implicate very important things.  Can I put my trust in him, as he said I could?

Put simply, truth resonates with each of us. Indeed, the love of and attraction to truth is built into our very nature. We see this most clearly when we consider how strongly we react to being deceived. No matter how accomplished a liar someone might be, they never want to be on the receiving end of the lie.  This seems self-evident.

Now, this strikes me as a rather odd thing, if there were no God.  If what we see around us is the product of randomness, the end result of a blind evolutionary process that did not have us in mind, then what feels good or what works should be most important, regardless of the underlying truth of the matter.  What difference should it make if a son or daughter, or a spouse or close friend, lied to us if we are not actually hurt in some way? Why is it important to us that the trust we place is someone is deserved, and not just a product of imagination? While people may desire to feel good, they also recognize that something more important is at play; they intuitively know that “truth” is grounded somewhere outside themselves and that accessing and knowing truth actually matter.

As we reflect more deeply about truth, it is also self-evident that there are levels of truth.  Is it true that the 49ers won last weekend is not as important a question as whether it is
true that John Smith, and not his twin Joe, was the one who killed his rival; or that the syringe you just picked up contains insulin and not arsenic. The importance we attach to knowing any particular truth claim will depend on how central that truth claim is to something significant.

Some might respond that truth is not what I make it out to be; they may be thinking of someone who seems to run or hide from the truth.  Perhaps a person refuses to go to the doctor because he is afraid of what the diagnosis might be.  Or a spouse refuses to acknowledge evidence of infidelity. But this observation misses the point: even in these situations, the truth actually matters to the person, but they are simply afraid to confront or acknowledge it, because they fear the consequences of learning the truth.  It also bears noting that running from the truth does not help in the long run.  It may forestall the day of reckoning, but even in these examples of people hiding from the truth, it is apparent that one cannot hide forever.  The plain fact is that the underlying truth does not change because they refuse to acknowledge it.


If, then, there is such a thing as truth that we intrinsically recognize and seek, and if some truth claims are more important than others, then it follows there must be an ultimate truth claim, an issue beyond which no greater issue can be imagined.

This ultimate, and most important, truth claim is the one concerning what happens after you die.  We spend most of our conscious hours pushing this thought away, into the recesses of our minds, or tucked away for consideration at some unspecified future time. Contemplating it is, well, uncomfortable. And the busier we are, the less time we have for that unpleasant thought to intrude into full awareness. After all, the transition is permanent, and we have no clear access to what, if anything, lies behind that portal that awaits us all.

Is God really there? Does he have a plan, not for his whole creation, but for me particularly? Will there be consequences there for things I did here?  Or, is this all there is, a brief moment in the sun followed by oblivion? Most importantly, if there is someone there awaiting me, what does he expect of me?

These reflections will often lead to a negative reaction: “you’re just trying to scare me with the specter of the God of wrath,” many would say.  But wrath is merely the flip side of the coin; it can't be separated from the notion that what really matters is not whether God is harsh for punishing us, but rather whether he has something wonderful in store for those who follow him.  Think about it from the perspective of a parent. They can tell their children that if they study hard, and behave in a certain way, they can achieve an interesting career and a more satisfying life. But if the child chooses not to study or apply himself, would he be right in telling the parent, “I really resent you for trying to bully me with scare tactics about what will happen to me if I don't do what you want me to.”  Such a response simply misses the point: while the parents realize that skid row could await the child if he refuses to develop himself, what the parent is really thinking is how much the child will miss out on if he doesn't follow what they know to be true.

The skeptic realizes there might be a God, but doesn’t want to be afraid of him.  On the other hand, he doesn’t want to spend time really thinking about whether Christian truth claims are in fact true.  But if they are true claims, they don't go away simply because we don't want to confront them.  And the issue isn't what punishment will be meted out.  

In the end, the issue is what you might miss out on, in terms of ultimate fulfillment and ultimate happiness, if you wait too long to consider the question.

Why Learning the Truth Matters