I wonder if you can think of the last time somebody asked you a question about the Christian faith: about why you believe, why you go to church. Maybe a member of your family asked you such a question, or maybe a colleague at work. We might be asked these questions from many different angles: for example, from an atheist position that regards all religion as nonsense, or maybe from the perspective of a different religion. A Muslim might ask how you can believe that God is three-in-one, or that God, the Creator of all things, could become a human being and die on a cross? Someone from an Eastern tradition like Buddhism, or western people who are drawn to alternative, 'new age' spiritualities, might ask quite different questions. Other people might say they just can't understand how anyone can have anything to do with any kind of Christianity, considering all the abuse and corruption the churches have tolerated and covered up.
Or maybe we never – or hardly ever – experience direct inter-personal questioning of that kind. Many people, especially in western societies, see religion as a very private thing and don't expect to discuss it. But even if individuals do not directly ask us about our faith, the world around us, the spiritual and mental climate in which we live, is increasingly, constantly asking us challenging questions about the Christian faith. For example, let me mention some bestsellers from recent years. The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, a brilliant scientist and charismatic communicator, has reinforced the assumption of many people that belief in God belongs to a pre-modern, pre-scientific world, and is no longer tenable. On a different front, The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown is one of many popular books that have created the impression that the traditional Christian account of Jesus is untrue. Despite the fact that no historian would take it at all seriously, it has sadly shaped the way many people think about Christianity. There are many other popular books one could mention here, for example Philip Pullman's trilogy His Dark Materials, which has a clear anti-Christian agenda.
And that's just books. Film is doubtless a much more pervasive influence. It's in the air that we breathe, a wide-spread questioning of the beliefs and practices of Christianity, that reaches and affects us through many different media as well as through the people we know. And I don't say this to complain. If the world around us doesn't believe the Christian faith, why shouldn't it say so, why shouldn't it ask hard questions?
There is nothing new in all this. Today's readings remind us that Christians have always faced questions and criticisms about their faith. The first Letter of Peter states a basic principle: (translating slightly differently from the version we heard read) 'Always be ready to give reasons to anyone who asks you to explain the hope that is within you.' But do this, Peter goes on, 'with gentleness and respect'. This is a vital reminder that Christianity can only be authentically commended in a spirit of humility, not in an attitude of superiority and condescension. We are commending Christ, not ourselves. But in that spirit of humility, that attitude of knowing we have received a gift we do not remotely deserve, we are told to be prepared to defend our faith to those who ask us about it: to give reasons for the hope that is within us.
And in our reading from the Acts of the Apostles we see St Paul doing just that. Paul is in Athens, an intellectual centre, a place buzzing with new ideas. Before today's reading, he has been in debate with philosophers. This is the first time the Christian message has been heard in Athens. Some ask mockingly: 'What does this babbler want to say?' Paul's message is new to them; it doesn't make much sense. They are confused and think he is proclaiming two gods, Jesus and Anastasis (the Greek for 'resurrection'), but they are intrigued enough to want to know more, so they arrange a further meeting with Paul, who now finds himself addressing some of the most high-powered people of the day.
What does Paul say to these Greek philosophers? Interestingly, he doesn't quote the Bible at all, which is very unusual for him. When he's talking to fellow Jews, who know the Bible, Paul refers to it all the time. But now he's talking to Greeks. They don't know the Bible and it holds no authority for them. So he starts where they are. He refers to the way religion is practised in Athens, mentioning an altar dedicated to an 'unknown god'. He then goes on to make some general points about how God might be understood and how God might relate to the human race. He talks in terms that should make sense to an educated Greek. He speaks their language. He even quotes their poets: 'In him we live and move and have our being'. That isn't from the Bible; it's from a Greek poet. Paul engages with their mental and cultural world. He does this to open up a space in their thinking, a willingness to hear the Christian message. But, crucially, Paul doesn't leave his listeners with generalities about God; in the end he says something quite new and very specific: the God we can reason and speculate about in all kinds of ways has acted decisively in this world through Jesus Christ and his resurrection. Paul starts where the Athenians are; he shows that he understands their social and mental world – he shows them that respect. But then into that world he introduces something quite new that that world could never have found by itself. He speaks to them about what God has done. He speaks about Jesus and his resurrection from the dead.
And how does his sophisticated audience respond? Some scoff; some are interested and ask to hear Paul again; some become believers and join the church.
Over the two thousand years since Paul preached in Athens many have followed in his footsteps: deeply convinced Christians who have also had an intelligent understanding of the wider world, a sympathetic grasp of where people are coming from, of how they see Christianity and what they might struggle with in it; Christians who have been able to connect the unchanging truth of the Gospel to the changing questions of the world.
An outstanding example of just such a Christian communicator was C.S. Lewis. Many of us probably know him chiefly for his Narnia stories. Both in those stories and in many other books he was a very effective communicator of the Christian faith, with a unique capacity to blend reasoned argument and imagination. Lewis was so effective partly because he had struggled hard with the faith himself. In his twenties he was an agnostic, but intelligent believers like his friend J.R.R. Tolkien challenged him; if they believed, maybe it was worth thinking about. And he argued and wrestled until finally he came to believe in Christ himself. If you only know Lewis' children's stories, you might consider reading one of his other books like Mere Christianity. They are in some ways a little dated now and they're not everyone's cup of tea, but countless people have found them enormously helpful.
There are different ways of speaking about the Chrstian faith, of defending and commending what we believe. There is more than one way of giving reasons for the hope that is within us. To take a very local example, Karl Barth, one of the greatest of all Christian theologians, who grew up just ten minutes walk from St Ursula's here in Bern, and who took a very different approach from Lewis. While Lewis seeks contact points in the thinking and sense of moral obligation of his readers and tries to draw them from there by stages to Christian faith, Barth thinks that's a mistake. For him, we should not waste time trying to show that Christianity is somehow in line with what people already dimly know. If we try to do that we will be tempted to please the world rather than be faithful to the Gospel, and we will end up distorting the Christian message by fitting it into godless ways of thinking. For Karl Barth, from beginning to end we should simply point to Jesus Christ, the crucified and risen Lord. God will do the rest.
I love Lewis and I love Barth and I won't try to resolve the tension between their different approaches. They show us different ways of speaking faithfully about Christ in a questioning and sometimes hostile world. Learning from great Christian teachers like Lewis and Barth can be one way we can develop confidence in giving reasons for the hope that is within us. And even if other people don't ask us for such reasons, we may need to develop them for our own sake, as we experience in our own hearts and minds the impact of the many ways in which the credibility of Christianity is challenged today.
Finally, let me add that I might have given the impression that the task of defending and commending our faith in Christ is ultimately a burden on the individual Christian. Of course, there may be times when, as an individual, we each need to stand up and be counted as a believing Christian. But ultimately it is to a community, not lone individuals, that our Lord has entrusted the task of making him known to the world. And that suggests that alongside everything else I've said, one other fundamental way of commending the Christian faith is simply to invite people to Church: to hear the story of Jesus Christ; to see the celebration of the eucharist that draws us into the reality of his death and resurrection; to see the community which the Gospel creates.
And when we say that, we are reminded of just how important it is for us to meet together as Church and for each of us to contribute to the building up of this community. Of course, in recent weeks it has been a great challenge to maintain our sense of being the Body of Christ, though we have tried to do so in many ways. Along with all of you, I look forward to the time when we can resume meeting in person to be nourished by word, sacrament and fellowship. May God give grace to us all, as individuals and as a community, to grow in confidence in our faith, so that we can indeed give reasons for the hope that is within us and point others faithfully to Christ.
Revd David Marshall