How to Make a Good Argument

Jesus made some wild, outlandish, hard-to-believe claims about himself. Whether or not you believe him, you can at least admit (assuming, of course, the Gospel accounts are accurate enough) that Jesus' claims about himself were things we typically hear only from egomaniacs, delusional people off their meds, or presidential candidates.

But how he went about making his case was also off the wall, too. He set himself up to be easily proven wrong. Don't we usually try to avoid that?

He didn't try to win his argument - and there were arguments (chapters 6 and 10 of John, for example) - by means of raising his voice, by dominating the conversation with extra rhetoric, by ad hominem attacks, or by posting myopic memes. In fact, he didn't even keep engaged in the argument until he had "won." He didn't expect to be believed just because he said something, even though of all people, he uniquely has that right. He didn't get mad at people just because they disagreed with him.

What he did do was say, in effect, "Don't believe what I'm saying just because I'm saying it. Watch me. Just do that - watch me. See how I live. See the things that I do and how I do them. Believe me if you see my actions making my argument for me."

Jesus made himself falsifiable. That doesn't mean he was false. Rather, it means that if he was false, it would have been easy to show. This is a term used in scientific research - scientific claims are supposed to be falsifiable, meaning that another scientist is given the means by which to validate or invalidate the claims. If a scientific claim is not falsifiable, it is automatically suspect in the eyes of the scientific community.

In essence, Jesus set himself up. He made wild claims and then put the entire weight of his claims on the end of the tree branch of his works, and dared people to cut off the branch.

And because Jesus made such outlandish claims, he had to do some outlandish acts to match them. It would not have been adequate to back up a claim of being God's only Son by giving a sandwich to a homeless person. Or by being a better debater. No, it had to be big stuff ... which means they would be even easier to falsify if they weren't genuine.

Dear Christian, don't have a greater expectation of what your words can do than Jesus did of his words. For any claim you make about matters of faith, make it falsifiable by your own life.

Don't claim God is full of mercy without making that claim falsifiable by your own life - can the outlandish claim be validated by a life that's been affected by mercy? Don't claim God is forgiving, powerful, good, holy, interested in the affairs of people, or better than money, sex, drugs, and fame without making those claims falsifiable with your life. Put all the weight of your claims on the branch of what you do. Yikes!

You'll never be all those things perfectly. No one expects you to, and it's not necessary. How does a merciful God manifest himself in the life of an imperfect person? How does a forgiving, powerful, good, holy, interested-in-the-affairs-of-people, better-than-money-sex-drugs-and-fame God manifest himself in the life of an imperfect person? Does your life make it hard to deny that God is merciful and better than money? I won't believe your claim unless you make it hard to deny with your life.

Do the works in order to set yourself up like Jesus did. Don't expect people to believe what you say, but make the claims, and then bank the validity of your claims on how you live your life. Say, "look at me and decide whether or not to believe me based on my very imperfect, but impacted-by-Jesus life." Jesus expected no more than this of his own contemporaries.

If you make the claim of who God is, it's already falsifiable by your life. Give the other scientists the means by which to validate or invalidate your claim.

(And lest you be tempted to make no claims at all to get yourself off the hook, the absence of a claim is a claim itself.)

Listen up, it's important

This week, I quoted A.W. Tozer with a statement that may be familiar to many of you:

What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.

Tozer's idea is that our conception of God defines who we are as individuals, establishes our values and priorities, and locates our meaning. Therefore, Tozer posits, we'd better have very clear and accurate ideas about who God is - it's essential for us to enjoy the human experience to the fullest.

Whether someone believes that God exists or not, one could agree with Tozer on this point. An atheist who is quite convinced there is no god could concur - that what comes into my mind when I think about God is that he doesn't exist is the most important thing about me. An agnostic, a Muslim, a Catholic, a Protestant, a polytheist, a social gospel adherent, a liberation theologian, or an evangelical - all could conceivably concur.

If Tozer has a point, then it becomes imperative for me to listen to you (the "I and thou" of Buber's existentialism). Reflexively, it is imperative for you to listen to me. If the most important thing about you is what comes into your mind when you think about God, then in order for me to know what's most important about you, I need to listen to what you say about God. I need to hear what comes into your mind on this topic. I cannot learn what is most important about you if I don't listen to what's in your mind about the divine.

Even if you don't believe any god exists, I must listen. Even if you think he's vastly different than I do, I need to listen. Even if you think he's horrible, mean, unfair, uncaring, uninvolved, I need to listen in order to know what's most important about you. But not merely listening in order to effectively shoot down your points - really listening.

If I jump right in and disagree (to "set you straight"), I don't listen. And then I don't learn the most important part of you. If I argue, get defensive, get offensive, or otherwise shut down what you have to say on this, I won't know you. No, I must listen, whether I think you're right or wrong or somewhere in between. It's the only way to value the You that you are. I would hope that you would listen, too, in order to know the Me that is me.

I want to know you. Specificallly, I want to know what's most important about you. Shutting up and listening is not my natural bent, but it is imperative for me to do so, if Tozer's got it right.

I also want you to know the God I know. I do think He's awesome. But I know that if I don't value you and learn what's most important about you, I'd be conveying to you something about God that isn't true - that He's not a listener.