Appendix II
Pagans, Protestants and Catholics
Imagine an agnostic having a talk with a New Age devotee; the kind with the "Born Again Pagan" bumper sticker.
Our friend pagan believes in God (and, unfortunately, the Goddess). He believes the world is steeped in the divine Spirit and that he can learn about God by studying and reflecting on nature. Agricultural cycles and sexual differences and personality and love and hate are all windows to a greater reality, he thinks, and when he meditates on these things he hears a Voice calling to him. Somebody's out there.
The agnostic complains that this "voice" he thinks he is hearing is just a projection of his own thoughts. The agnostic listens to all the pagan's "proofs" of his religion, but all he hears is a collection of inconclusive arguments. Sure, some of them almost work, but ten bad arguments don't make one good one. The bottom line is that the pagan can't prove his belief.
The pagan admits the difficulty. He realizes it's not all clear, that there are hard issues and seeming contradictions, but he hears that Voice calling inside him. He sees an image of God in love, and beauty, and order, and ethics, and laughter, and wine and song, and the message that this is a glimmer of Someone greater resonates in his heart in a way that the sterile logic of the agnostic doesn't.
He can't prove the existence of God, he admits, but it seems to him that several independent lines of evidence point to a single Reality, and that Reality makes his heart sing. It's too much of a coincidence to ignore. Somebody is talking to him, and he believes this Somebody wants men to know him and have fellowship with him.
"But how can that be?," the agnostic counters. "For thousands of years, people have been listening to this 'revelation' you're talking about, and they all come to different conclusions. If this 'god' wants us to know him, he's certainly not making it easy. It seems to me that you're just projecting your hopes and opinions onto the world, just like religious people have always been doing."
The pagan knows it's not all clear, but he's sure that God is speaking to men through nature. He's heard Him. And he believes that any reasonably intelligent man who listens with a good heart, and who is willing to do what that Somebody is saying, will come to an accurate knowledge of God. Sure, it hasn't happened yet, and it doesn't look likely to happen, but maybe someday ....
The agnostic can't see it. He believes the pagan is just being credulous.
The next day our pagan friend meets a Protestant who overheard the pagan's conversation with the agnostic and praises the pagan for his conclusions. "You're right," he says, "God has revealed Himself in nature, and you're also right that if we truly listened carefully enough, with a good heart, we could come to a pretty accurate knowledge of God. St. Paul says so himself. God's self-revelation in nature is clear as a bell, but we're too wicked and dim-witted to understand what it's saying.
"But here's the good news. God is more gracious than you've realized. He hasn't left us to muddle through with natural revelation. He's also spoken to us through prophets and apostles, and even lived among us. Jesus Christ is the perfect revelation of that God you're looking for in nature. We dont have to guess what He's like any more. We can read about Him in the Scriptures.
"You're also right that God is calling to us, and He wants us to listen. But He wants a deeper fellowship than you suspect, and that's why He's given us a more accurate revelation of Himself in Scripture. God wants all people to come to a knowledge of Him, and you can see from history that the book of nature hasn't been adequate to that task. The Scriptures show us the way more accurately."
The pagan has heard it all before. He points out that these so-called Scriptures are not very clear, and that some things they say seem false, and others wicked.
"What about Noah's Flood, and the annihilation of the people of Canaan? That doesn't sound like the loving God I know. Besides, some people read this 'revelation' of yours one way while other people read it another. What kind of 'revelation' is that?"
The Protestant admits the difficulty. He's aware of the moral problems and the alleged contradictions, and he's looked into them.
"Frankly," he says, "I can see it both ways. I can harmonize the Scriptures with these difficulties, or I can set them against each other and see lots of contradictions. And frankly, some of the arguments are a bit of a toss-up. But the more I've studied, the more it seems that everything points in one direction -- to form one overall picture. I could try to explain everything separately, but that seems to be missing the point. It's as if all these things push me toward one central reality."
"Just as an example," he continues, "every turn of the archeologist's spade confirms some tidbit in Scripture that skeptics have doubted. And then there's fulfilled prophecy, and the ethical teachings of Scripture, and its ability to change lives, and the evidence for Jesus' resurrection. And most of all, there's the way Scripture speaks to my heart. When I sit down and listen to what God says to me in Scripture, I can hear Him speaking to me."
"And Moslems and Mormons can say the same," the pagan complains. "All you have is a series of inconclusive arguments, and you want to make the whole more than the sum of the parts. I don't see it."
"But if you're right," the Protestant laments, "if all we have is the revelation in nature, then God has left humanity in the dark, without any clear evidence of who He is."
"I still believe that we can find him in nature," the pagan says, "if we look hard enough."
"You're right. And maybe someone will eventually get it right. Maybe you will. But I don't think any two people will, and certainly not whole cultures and nations. I believe God wants more for us than that, and that's why He gave us the Scriptures, so we could know what He's really like."
The next day a Catholic meets our Protestant friend. "I heard your conversation with that pagan yesterday, and I agree with everything you said. God has revealed Himself in nature and Scripture, and if we could interpret it all correctly, we'd all be better off. But it doesn't seem that's happened. Why do you think?"
"Because we don't really listen to the Scriptures. Everyone brings his own assumptions and traditions and biases to the text, and everyone wants to justify himself and condemn the other guy. If we could come to the text with a clean slate, without any guile or malice, and if we could all sit down and listen to the Scriptures, and the Scriptures alone, without all that other humdrum and bother, then we'd all agree."
"I agree with you," the Catholic says. "It's not Scripture's fault that we disagree. It's our own fault. But admitting the problem doesn't cure it. It's still true that if you set a hundred people down with the Bible, you'll get a hundred different theologies. I believe God wants a deeper fellowship, both with us and among us, and that's why He's given us the church -- to clean up some of the confusion. The church is led by the Holy Spirit to clear up the things we misunderstand from Scripture."
"Oh, you can't believe that," the Protestant complains. "The church contradicts the Bible, and it even contradicts itself. How can the same Holy Spirit who inspired the Scriptures lead the church to say different things?"
"He can't," the Catholic admits, "but I've looked at those alleged contradictions, and I don't think the case is as clear as you say. I've been studying Scripture, and sacraments, and church history, and questions of authority, and they all lead me in the same direction -- toward an authoritative church that's led by the Holy Spirit to keep us in the truth. I've tried to make it work with your assumptions, and I couldn't. And if you look at history, nobody else has been able to either."
"It doesn't look good," the Protestant admits, "but it's not the Bible's fault. If we would agree to be led by Scripture alone, the Holy Spirit would guide us into the truth."
"That may be so, and you're right that it's not Scripture's fault. But just as we're too dense to understand God from nature, and God gave us the Scriptures to solve that, it seems we're also too dense to understand the New Covenant without an inspired church.
"What about all these glimmers and hints of an authoritative church? Is it just a trick to frustrate us, or is it a path we're supposed to follow -- to trust in the One who's leading us?"