“Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you be like him yourself. Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eyes.” (Proverbs 26:4-5)

In a recent editorial tirade published in The Chronicle of Higher Education, Ivy League professor Peter Conn warned of the danger to “skeptical and unfettered inquiry” occurring at “intellectually compromised institutions” that “erect religious tests for truth” and “draw lines around what is regarded as acceptable teaching and research.” Because the “primacy of reason has been abandoned” at an evangelical college with a faith statement, the author incredulously wondered why such religious institutions were still accredited – this in spite of their “subversion of our core academic mission by this or that species of dogma.”

Reinforcing the author’s condescending hyperbole was the constant refrain of the numerous reader comments pitting the “evidenced-based reasoning” of the modern university against the “blind faith” dogma of the stereotypical Christian Fundamentalist college. Only a tiny minority of these remarks offered anything like a defense of Christian higher education, such as the following: “Religious and non-religious people have fundamental beliefs which may [not will?] influence certain types of scientific inquiry. That doesn’t mean either one is completely incapable of doing proper scientific inquiry or education [italics mine]” just because one begins with faith rather than empirical evidence. A few other Christian readers posted similarly weak apologies on the need to integrate a non-particular, generic “faith” (but no mention of the biblical one!) with reason. Thus, the Christian rational witness culled from these remarks was that science and higher education in general are rationally autonomous spheres of human activity shared by believers and unbelievers alike – hardly a strong case for the exclusive truth of the Christian worldview! It is not surprising, then, that the mostly secular audience was unimpressed by the tepid Christian reasoning on display, as in this heated exchange: “Blind faith exists on both sides of the religious/non-religious fence,” to which one skeptic acerbically countered: “All you are doing is plugging your ears and screaming ‘Mommy! Mommy! He did it too!’”.

We see a bit of this defensive posture in the editorial rejoinder by Stanton L. Jones, the provost of Wheaton College, whose school was the subject of obloquy in Conn’s diatribe and in the readers’ withering posts. Provost Jones had the unenviable task of refuting the obscurantist caricature of evangelicals in a limited word space and very secular context that frowns on religious truth claims – especially ones that are academically normative. What he wrote was undeniably polished, erudite, and gracious – perhaps too gracious. For while Jones makes many important points as to the non-empirical foundation of knowledge (“all knowing starts somewhere in faith. We all take some assertions as givens on which to build our structure of knowledge . . . . Purely skeptical and unfettered inquiry is likely to simply chase itself in circles”) and in exposing the myth of academic freedom (“Professors are never free from the ideological constraints of their disciplines or the judgments of their peers”), he then undermines his otherwise intelligent response to Conn’s rant by seeking common rational ground with unbelievers when he ought to have taken the offensive by illustrating the anti-rational basis of all unbelieving thought.

Thus, Provost Jones’ correct assertion that “reason is not antithetical to faith” is anticlimactic and rings hollow without the follow-up comment and demonstration that the non-Christian’s faith (or worldview) – far from being grounded in reason and science – is actually antithetical to them. This fact was even made manifest by the remarks of one reader steeped in post-modern relativity: “Even though scientific claims do not rest on a firm foundation . . . there is far more support for scientific claims than for, say, the preposterous claim of the empty tomb [italics mine].” This remarkable admission – that the truth claims of science are not, in the end, objective – means that any knowledge claim as to the superiority of science over religion is ultimately determined by the personal preferences and subjective criteria of that individual; intellectual debate in the unbeliever’s universe, then, is logically akin to a beauty pageant or a taste test (e.g. Coke versus Pepsi)!

While this inescapable subjectivism is certainly the case for the unbeliever, it is not, however, for the Christian, and we must not squander our spiritual inheritance by entertaining any epistemological equivalency (such as, “we all start with faith, and my faith is as good as yours”) with the rational skeptic. Our truth is not founded on a personal preference; it is grounded in the Truth – the objectively real Incarnate and written Word of God – in whom are “hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Col. 2:3) and to whom we must “hold every thought captive” (II Cor. 10:5). Our claim ought not be that our knowledge is as good, or even better, than their knowledge; rather, that the epistemological basis of knowledge itself is rationally possible only within a Christian intellectual framework. For what the unbeliever claims is true is contradicted by how he actually lives. The skeptic does science yet cannot rationally justify it in his system of thought. That the skeptic still finds it worthwhile to do science which has no rational foundation in his worldview testifies to the fact that all mankind have “inalienable knowledge” of God and his creation. Science is possible for the unbeliever only because the natural man has his Creator’s knowledge of the natural order – a knowledge that goes unacknowledged by the sinner. Therefore, it is not because of his secular worldview – rather, it is in spite of his secular worldview – that knowledge is possible and human experience intelligible. That is how we properly “answer the fool according to his folly” (Prov. 26:5).

But rather than push the fundamental antithesis of the Christian and secular outlook, many evangelicals attempt to establish a rational rapprochement with their secular peers in the academy. We see an instance of this in the Jones’ piece: “Religious scholars attracted to places like Wheaton find it useful [but not necessary?] to draw upon certain fundamental commitments to Christian faith to shape engagement with their academic subject matter, just as all scholars draw upon their own fundamental commitments [italics mine].” In other words, evangelicals are like everyone else in their personal biases, so why shouldn’t Christians be allowed to “contribute to a vigorous and diverse intellectual marketplace” alongside the secular academician who likewise has “fundamental commitments”? Perhaps this explains why Provost Jones feels he must reassure his skeptical audience that Wheaton is no hidebound Fundamentalist institution when it comes to the handling of rational evidence: “My Christian presuppositions about human nature shape and flavor my disciplined inquiry,but I must engage the substance of the field on its terms. That influence is not unidirectional; our academic inquiries may challenge and even reform our faith assumptions [italics mine].”

But shouldn’t it be the other way around for the Christian – shouldn’t it be our “faith assumptions” that guide, challenge, and reform our “academic inquiries”? After all, it is one’s personal worldview that ultimately gives meaning and interpretation to all the facts of our experiences. Because one’s fundamental beliefs are the principles that inform one’s scholarship as Provost Jones readily acknowledges, no one, then, can impartially handle their basic beliefs or articles of faith as objects of scholarly study – that is, as just another point of view among others within the academy. So, then, how can the Christian start with “faith assumptions” but not expect to see them all the way through his/her “academic inquiries” as suggested by Jones? It is no wonder that the secular community shrugs off evangelical arguments as poorly reasoned apologetics. We enable them to feel wise in their own eyes because we copy their rational folly and so become fools ourselves (Prov. 26:4).

Since the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge (Prov. 1:7), Christians must be philosophical – that is, literally “lovers of wisdom.” Because we are “renewed in knowledge” (Col. 3:10), we must not be held “captive by philosophy and empty deceit” (Col. 2:8), but “avoid the irreverent babble and contradictions of what is falsely called ‘knowledge’” by unbelievers (I Tim. 6:20) and earnestly “contend for the faith” (Jude 3) by “hold[ing] firm to the trustworthy word,” guarding the “deposit of faith” (I Tim. 6:20a) and “rebuk[ing] those who contradict it” (Tit. 1:9). Out of obedience to God’s Word, then, we must distinguish and identify true, biblical reasoning (or good philosophy) from autonomous reasoning (vain or empty philosophy) lest we too – in our academics – imitate the rational method of the fool “who said in his heart, ‘There is no God’” (Psalms 14:1).