You're Not As Crazy As I Think

by Randal Rauser

BCC:
“Listen to me . . .”� “NO, YOU listen to ME!”�

If we evangelicals are known for anything, we are mostly known for our opinions, opinions we are not afraid to express, and express with much gusto and volume.

But what if passion for truth is found not in the loudest voice and most unshakeable convictions, but rather in the resolve to listen to and learn from others? What if that passion is found in a willingness to rethink our most cherished beliefs? What if it is found in a refusal to embrace simple black and white categories when the world offers a bewildering array of gray? What if it is found when we refuse to dismiss those who disagree with us as simply stupid or wicked? What if it is found when we seek to learn from others through open and honest dialogue?

In You're Not as Crazy as I Think, Randal Rauser presents a very different picture of the passionate pursuit of truth from one where people seek to stand on unassailable and unquestionable foundations. This pursuit begins as we rethink not only our truth paradigm but learn how to listen, to hear and learn from groups so often marginalized by our biases. Could it be that those we have dismissed or ignored””such as liberal Christians, Darwinists, animal-rights activists, and atheists””are not that stupid or wicked after all? Could it be that they might even have something important to share about the truth?

Be warned, these are conversations that could change your life.

Bio:
Randal Rauser is associate professor of historical theology at Taylor Seminary in Edmonton, Canada where he teaches in the areas of theology, apologetics, worldview, and church history. Randal is the author of several books including Theology in Search of Foundations and Finding God in the Shack. He lectures widely on theology, worldview, and apologetics. He is married to Jasper and has one daughter and two yappy dogs.

182 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 14, 2011

About the author

Randal Rauser is a systematic and analytic theologian of evangelical persuasion. He is driven by apologetic concerns and above all by the tireless pursuit of truth. The downside is that this requires him to recognize when he is wrong (which is often) for truth is complex and it offers us no guarantees that we shall always find it. At the same time, Randal does not despair of finding truth, for he believes that in a profound sense Jesus Christ is the truth.

For Randal, being like Jesus means knowing the truth, loving the truth, and living the truth. As Randal seeks to live the truth he promotes a culture of life that is anti-militaristic and pro-family, pro-environment and anti-abortion, anti-consumerist and pro-animal. A disciple on the way … alas, he is not half as smart or as good or as right as he thinks he is.

Reviews

[Brian Davis · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good read as usual from this author, but arguments could certainly have been stronger. While I would recommend this book for a mature Christian I would note to them that the arguments are not complete and some very important aspects have been left out. I do however appreciate the authors over arching point that we must not outright judge a professing Christian based solely on their theological understanding. We must be wise to consider how and why the person got there if we are to help in the pursuit of truth.

[Erroll Treslan]

I stumbled across this book because it was written by an engaging and very bright theology professor at Taylor Seminary in Edmonton. The title says it all as Rauser pleads his case (albeit from a Christian evangelical perspective) for the pursuit of truth over dogma and entrenched opinions. In a pleasantly accessible manner, he explains how everyone needs to overcome the confirmation bias (i.e. deferring to presently held beliefs and unfairly discriminating against evidence that may rebut those beliefs). His overriding theme is that those we disagree with rarely arrive at their diametrically opposed positions because they are either cognitively or morally deficient. He then embarks on the heretical exercise of examining the beliefs of liberal Christians, evolutionists, animal-rights activists and (God forbid) atheists in order to press his case that any of these worldviews can be reasonably defended.



Make no mistake, Rauser is a Christian apologist and wedded to a system of beliefs that some may consider delusional. But that's the rub - he's not delusional. He's smart, impassioned and, most importantly, he's a breath of fresh air in a world of loud voices and hardened opinions.

[Paul · Rating 2 out of 5]

Dr. Randal Rauser’s new book, You’re Not as Crazy As I Think, comes to us as the latest of a round of recent books on how Christians should conduct themselves in the pluralistic world that lies outside the four walls of their local church. In this book, Rauser’s task is to deal with how Christians ought to think about and pursue debate with those outside their theological tradition, whether religious or secular outsiders. The light needed for guidance is, simply, a love and concern for truth. Rauser is concerned that many Christians, who should be concerned with truth, are more concerned with image protection and belief preservation over against truth. While Rauser does briefly address the New Atheists (as something of a mirror image of dyed-in-the-wool fundamentalists), the target audience is unquestionably those Rauser considers to be (broadly) within his religious tradition, evangelical Christians. Rauser’s book contains many points with which to agree, and many with which to disagree. In this review I’ll summarize the book’s contents, and then discuss what I consider to be positives and negatives.


Summary

Chapter one is titled, “Who Needs truth When You’ve Got Jesus?” Rauser notes that those outside evangelicalism are at least suspicious that evangelicals have not simply “abandoned the virtuous pursuit of truth for the sake of defending their own beliefs, true or not.” Rather, it suspected by those at the table that evangelicals “are really more concerned with perpetuating their own sectarian ideology” (3). Rauser sets forth the thesis of the book: apart from the above impressions people have, are those impressions true? Rauser says he “will argue that it is indeed often true, certainly more than evangelicals are typically willing to admit.” This thesis leads Rauser to a second thesis, a proposed solution. That is, “we need to be doers of the truth and not hearers only.” This culminates in Rauser stating the goal for the whole book: “to challenege evangelicals, other Christians, and everbody else to develop characters of truth that are in harmony with their proclamations of truth” (4).

Rauser next introduces us to “Ted,” a fictional-but-realistic character he’ll use to give examples of just what Rauser finds wrong with how the majority of evangelicals interact with others at the pluralistic dinner table. Ted is not supposed to be a straw man caricature, but the paradigmatic evangelical layman. He’s well-educated, thoughtful, attends church, studies his bible, loves his job but also witnesses to non-Christians, and is an amiable fellow, a “genuinely nice guy” (5). The rest of the chapter is an overview of the rest of the book, with Rauser wanting to introduce the idea that

commitment to the truth means much more than dogged adherence to the set of statements we happen to believe. A commitment to truth is also a character-forming commitment to know reality as it is revealed in the world of our interaction with others. So, a close-minded refusal to hear the truth in others is incompatible with being people of truth. The real person of truth is one who expresses a genuine willingness to listen to the other as an equal conversation partner. (8)

Chapter two is titled, “Truth is Who You Are.” In this chapter Rauser focuses on the nature of truth as: (1) a relationship correct statements bear to reality and (2) a relationship that we bear to Jesus Christ (14). Rauser briefly argues for a correspondence theory of truth, and clearly this is vital for his project. Rauser then claims that the Bible says truth not only applies to statements but to persons too. So we need to seek to be true persons. Ultimately, this means we need to become like Jesus, who is the truth. “Thus, we become the truth only insofar as we conform to Christ” (20). Rauser looks at what Jesus’ truthful character is like (passionate, conviction, simplicity and/or clarity).

This is fine and good but it’s problematic for us to model ourselves after this since we’re not Jesus. Rauser looks at Christians who have thought the more passionate, convinced, and simple a person was, the more in tune with the truth he was, noting that this has been a mistake and has led to unsavory consequences. Because we are fallen, we need to appreciate nuance, complexity, and self-criticism. Because we are fallen, the passion, conviction, and clarity Jesus had tends to work out in us a kind of pragmatism, full of sensationalistic urban legends told from the pulpit with conviction and passion all in the hopes of converting the lost or firing up the masses.

“If Jesus Were Not The Truth, He’d be the First Person to Tell You to Look Elsewhere,” is the title of chapter three. Rauser discusses confirmation bias (i.e., psychologists and others have pointed out humans have a tendency to build cases in a one-sided fashion, evidence for their beliefs are treated less critically than evidence against their beliefs, etc) as an impediment to our becoming truthful persons. He makes the helpful point, however, that it is healthy and appropriate to trust some our beliefs even if some evidence against them surfaces. Thus, the problem isn’t with “confirmation bias per se, but rather with its inappropriate application.” But, this doesn’t mean we can trust all of our beliefs “come what may” (20). Rauser offers some commonsense advice about how to avoid confirmation bias and concludes by showing the existence of confirmation bias when Christians think about and respond to others regarding the biggest challenge to faith in God: the problem of evil.

Chapter four is titled, “Not Everything is Black and White.” The discussion here is on brainwashing and indoctrination. The focus is on “sweeping aside sweeping judgments,” and “unchecked confirmation and binary oppositions” which “leave us terribly vulnerable to indoctrination” (56). Rasuer attempts to show how neglecting these things opens the door for possible indoctrination or getting brainwashed by a charismatic leader of a cult. Rauser finds three characteristics common to those who are indoctrinated or subject to brainwashing. They are (i) inability to think critically about core beliefs because said beliefs are deemed off-limits, (ii) beliefs are protected by making us of absolute binary opposition between truth and error, and (iii) a sense of crisis that demands immediate action (57). To flesh out his ideas, Rauser first discusses a case of brainwashing into a cult, how atheists, especially the “new atheists,” exhibit classic symptoms of indoctrination and brainwashing, and, lastly, how some Christians do. Rasuer then tries to show that Christianity doesn’t foster an atmosphere ripe for making indoctrinated believers, contrary to the suggestion of some atheists.

“Those I Disagree With Are Probably Not Ignorant, Idiotic, Insane, or Immoral,” is the subject of chapter five. The gist of the chapter is over how we often marginalize others who don’t hold our views according to one (or more) of the above categories. If they’re not cognitively incompetent, they’re morally incompetent (in some cases, both). These assumptions play out disastrously in the market place of ideas, fostering distrust on both sides and inhibiting the quest for truth. Most people who disagree with us are not insane or immoral, they hold to their view for sincere reasons, simply unconvinced of the other side. Also, many are not immoral for disagreeing, even if they’re wrong. They usually disagree out of honest and sincere misunderstandings or ignorance of relevant facts, seldom do they persist in their falsehoods out of pride or a sense of intellectual superiority. But sometimes this is the case, and it could be true of us too. We may defend our beliefs vigorously out of a sense of pride and refusal to admit we’re wrong. So, rather than setting out to “destroy” the other side, we need to lower our guns and let cooler heads prevail. But, all sides are guilty of the above. What should we do? “The only way to break this kind of standoff is by taking the risk of lowering our own rhetorical guns” (p. 90).

Chapter six is titled, “This Conversation Could Change Your Life.” It begins with a dilemma. What if someone on a plane knew you were a Christian and said that he would like to discuss Christianity with you and warned you he would say something which would cause you to lose your faith. Would you engage? The problem is that the man simply said you will lose your faith, not that you will lose it because he gives you a good reason to or because of the truth. So the dilemma presents a downside in engaging in the exchange of ideas with people. People who seek to form their character to the truth—to Jesus—run the risk of changing their beliefs, even exchanging them for false ones. But this is a risk truth-seekers should take. In pursuing the above dilemma, Rauser tells us that the goal of “this chapter is to explore the dynamic that arises when we opt to [engage in discussions that could change our life, even if you convert to a false belief] by entering into the risk of a vulnerable conversation” (102).

He models our conversations with others on conversations between lovers and/or husbands and wives. Arguing (not contentious disputing) is not bad, indeed it’s vital. But so is listening. Listening intently and deeply, making sure you understand the other’s point. This is what commitment to truth looks like. Rauser ends with the story of a missionary who eventually lost his faith because he became intimately connected with the tribe he was witnessing to. This is the risk of pursuing truth. If you hide inside your house, though, you fail to reach others and help them find the truth. If you don’t attempt to have the husband/wife type of conversations mentioned above, but just ram your beliefs down others’ throats, not listening to what they say, you will not be formed to the likeness of the truthful Christ, and you will also maybe miss truths in the interest of protecting what you think is true.

Chapters seven through ten are, respectively: “Not all Liberal Christians are Heretics,” “Not all Darwinists are Monkeys,” Not All Animal Rights Activists Are Wackos,” and “Not All Atheists Are Fools.” The goal here is fairly self-explanatory. With the first chapter, liberals have dropped historic Christian dogma (like a literal resurrection) for sincere reasons, finding the available evidence against traditional dogma overwhelming. They have not wanted to move toward atheism, and could not drop all their theistic beliefs. The main point is that the evidence for the historic claims is no so strong that no rational person could resist it, and liberals have denied them from a standpoint of sincere and honest inquiry. Moreover, there may be a deeper connection between Christianity and action than there is between Christianity and dogma. The second chapter basically makes the case for reconciling loving Jesus and holding to evolution—again, for the strong reasons in its favor and not out stupidity or hatred of God. Rauser tries to show that Darwinian evolution isn’t at odds with Genesis 1-3, the imago Dei, and human value. Next, animal rights activists (at least some of them) are said to not be wicked or fools but engaging in what they do out of compassion, even conviction of biblical texts. Animal rights activism, it is argued, represents a morally justified position (183), and that while the Bible may allow for eating meat, it may be that vegetarianism is the ideal, heavenly state. So perhaps some may decide to forego eating meat “as a hopeful anticipation of that future state” (185). The last chapter is similar to the previous ones. Atheists (at least some of them) are not atheists out of ignorance or rebellion, but have what they take to be justified reasons for unbelief, like the problem of evil. Or, others may be atheists because the only God they know of is the silly, petulant, hateful God of some Christians, not the God of the Bible. Aren’t those atheists justified in their atheism?

You’re Not as Crazy as I Think ends with the conclusion, “Truth is Enough.” This means “we must always choose truth, whatever, whenever, however, and in whomever it manifests itself” (208). Rauser wants Christians to plunge into conversations with others, taking the risk. He wants them to do so without weapons but with an “invitation for coffee and a willingness to talk and listen.”

The Positives

There are many things to appreciate in Rauser’s book. Rauser is right to defend a correspondence theory of truth (to the chagrin of some emergent Christians, I suppose). He is right to point out that it is a mistake to confuse passion and conviction with possession of the truth. It is helpful to point out that confirmation bias is a threat but also that loyalty to belief in the face of evidence to the contrary isn’t always a vice. Rauser is right to push for self-evaluation and to warn us of our tendency to give ourselves passing grades, and he’s right to point out that, “Scripture can attribute the greatest horrors to God’s eternal decree without a blush” (46), and therefore so should we.

Rauser is right to point out vices that lead to indoctrination, and he was on spot in criticizing the new atheists on this score. He is right to point to apologetic mirror problems, to point out that Christians frequently do not extend the same courtesy and leniency to opposing beliefs or worldviews. Rauser is also right, in my estimation, to point out that things with unbelievers are more complex than just calling them wicked or immoral. There is often more reasoning that goes into their views than some Christians would like to admit.

Rauser was right on when he criticized the view of “love” expressed in films like Titanic. Rose was infatuated with a young man whom she knew only briefly. She didn’t have do grow old with Jack, fight with him, see his good looks deteriorate, and stay committed to him for better or worse. Rauser is right to point out that there is nothing intrinsically wrong with argument, and arguing (and learning how to) is an indispensable tool in reaching the truth and/or avoiding error. Listening is also a virtue that should be cultivated. Understanding another position is vital if we wish to move others to our position or understand exactly what we are reject when we refuse to move to their position. Rauser is right that sometimes the quest for truth ends up with us holding a different position than we began with.

All of these things are virtues of You’re Not as Crazy as I Think. They are points many Christians need to learn.

Negatives

However, the means Rauser used as a vehicle to explain these rather commonsensical points was, in my estimation, often in error and dangerous (sorry for the “crisis” language!). There were several places where I staunchly disagreed with Rauser, places John Piper might have twitted, “Farwell, Randall Rauser.” What I say next is also in the interest of truth and I hope Dr. Rauser takes it that way.

Rauser’s argument often seems hypocritical. For instance, Rauser argues that the tendency to reduce matters to binary, good/evil opposites, as well as employing “crisis” and “warfare” language are signs that truth-seeking is hindered and indoctrination more likely. But Rauser frequently sets up these kinds of alternatives using that kind of language. Rauser notes that “it is crucial” to understand some of his points (35), he begins his book by pointing out a “crisis” in the evangelical world, viz., our actions suggest that we are not concerned with truth and our witness to others leaves them concluding we’re not serious, which is a very serious problem that we must deal with now! (cf. p.4). Rauser sets up binary opposites. Either you can be the sophisticated, tentative, complexity appreciating Christian, or you will be a simplistic, passion-driven, convinced truth-hinderer. It’s either Rauser’s road or the road of “Sol,” a Woody Allen character who would rather believe in God than truth (1-4). Rauser sets up fear and crisis when he repeatedly makes claims like, “If we don’t want to be like Sol . . .” (100). Rauser uses war language too, “We too need to fight against noncorrespondence conceptions of the truth” (18, emphasis mine). But when it comes to theological liberals and atheists, Rauser wants us to abandon the fighting language and use “irenic” language. It seems the correspondence theory of truth is worth fighting for, but not the gospel and the truths of theism.

Rauser also sets up a caricature of his opponents. For example, the people he wants to critique—evangelicals—are “taken in by the notion that a truthful person is simply one who exudes passion, conviction, and simplicity” (27, emphasis mine). But who thinks like this? No quotes are given, and I highly doubt that any sizable portion of evangelicalism really think that a truthful person is one who “simply” is passionate etc. Rauser complains that the evangelicals often buy into urban legends. He reports a story used as a sermon illustration about the missionary who was protected from robbers. Robbers did not rob him because they say twenty-six burly guards protecting him. The missionary was alone, so this was amazing. More amazingly, the time this happened was the exact same time twenty-six American church members had gathered to pray for the missionary (cf. p.28). But later (p. 128) Rauser tries to show how liberals who deny the essential tenants of Christianity can’t give up Christianity altogether. Why not? It’s because of what Rauser refers to as LAMPs (little amazing moments of providence). He tells a story of a missionary he knows who needed money, he was three hundred dollars short. Just when the missionary was about to give up, the missionary received a call from someone who “felt God laying on his heart the need to support him . . . at three hundred dollars a month.” Apparently, nobody but the missionary’s wife knew of the need. These LAMPs happen all the time according to Rauser. But why isn’t this an urban legend? Because Rauser knows the guy? A critical person could come up with all sorts of explanations for why the above didn’t happen as Rauser reports. Is Rauser exhibiting confirmation bias?

Perhaps the most egregious caricature is Rauser’s “Ted.” Ted is supposed to be a benchmark of evangelicals. The paradigmatic evangelical. He is introduced to us as pretty normal, and level-headed. Throughout the book, though, Ted is a ridiculous, loud, obnoxious, wasteful American evangelical. He is emotional rather than thoughtful, drives a gas guzzling SUV, mocks the liberals at the church down the street like some kind of Neanderthal. He’s an angry, small-minded, bigoted, rash, and arrogant man. It begins to look as if Ted is just fodder for Rauser’s war with those wasteful, environmentally inconsiderate, doctrinally dogmatic, consumerist American Christians he so often takes issue with on his blog.

Rauser’s argument also implies that all atheists and other non-Christians are not truthful persons. If being a truthful person is to be made into the image of Christ, and if this is only done by the Holy Spirit to those who have been justified, then no atheists, Hindus, etc., will be so conformed. But this has the implication of viewing those we disagree with has not possessing characters conformed to the truth. They are not truthful persons, for “we become truthful persons only insofar as we conform to Christ” (20, emphasis mine). But this turns Rauser into the kind of person he rails against. One who paints the opposition

[Seth · Rating 4 out of 5]

Summary: 1st half great, 2nd half maybe useful to some. Overall I'd still recommend in spite of some flaws.


The first half of this book is very good. While I came into it more or less already convinced of the major themes, I found the opening chapters about dismantling confirmation bias & the importance of truly listening to our opponents as a central tenant of a truly "truthful" life very helpful in putting my vague thoughts into words.

I knock a couple of points off the book's score for two reasons. Firstly, the author has a great love of analogies & examples. This is probably just a personal preference, but—while some of them were helpful—I found many of them unnecessary & a few actually confusing the point which was pretty clear when stated plainly. Secondly, the second half of the book is a collection of applications of the principles laid out in the first half, specifically in discussions with liberal Christians, Darwinists, animal rights activists, & atheists. Although in some ways these were helpful, I feel like, for me, it was just a list of "here's a few possibilities of where these folks are coming from & why it's not crazy for a person to reach that conclusion" & that—if one applied the principles outlined in part 1—these are things you would learn from your own conversations. I understand why they're in the book & for some people I can see how they would be good, but I would have preferred more discussion about some of the bigger points discussed in part 1 (e.g., how to actively fight confirmation bias) than taking up space with points that may or may not be applicable to the people I interact with.

Despite these flaws, I do recommend this book—especially for Christians who are frustrated with how many people are going around giving Jesus a bad name by their actions. Though it's written mostly by a conservative to conservatives to make them more tolerant of liberals, I think liberals can stand to keep in mind the principles of the first half of the book as well.

If we say we live by the truth, we should not be afraid of looking from another's perspective. If our belief is true, it will stand up to scrutiny. If it isn't, then maybe we should cease to believe it...or confess that truth is not what we really wanted.

[Daniel · Rating 4 out of 5]

An excellent little book that will challenge you to be a more careful and fairer thinker.