Yesterday I had the great pleasure of meeting with two forensic chemistry classes (one graduate and one undergraduate) at Sam Houston University in Huntsville, Texas. I was there for a public campus event last night, discussing the reliability of the New Testament gospels. Ratio Christi director, Darren Williams hosted the event, and at lunch time we met with Christian students to talk about how to better share the Gospel and minister to students on the campus. We discussed the apathy that sometimes permeates the Christian culture here and on campuses across America. Don’t get me wrong, there is a significant Christian community on the campus of SHU; lots of young Christians are active in their respective denominational groups. If you’re a Christian here at SHU, you can find a Christian activity nearly every night of the week. But it’s clear from talking to the Christian students I met that few Christians are willing to reach out and share what they believe with non-Christians on the campus. The Christian groups are internally active, if not externally focused. Most young Christians would rather hang out with fellow Christians in a safe environment than actively evangelize the campus for Christ. If you think back to your own college experience, you probably felt the same way. Why do we hesitate to share the Gospel with non-believers? I think it’s because we treat the gospel as a cookie rather than a cure.
I asked the Christian students if they would be willing to follow me into the streets of Huntsville to try to convince people that chocolate chip cookies are the best cookies in the world. The school cafeteria at SHU makes excellent chocolate chip cookies, so we could have taken some with us to convince the local populace. Unsurprisingly, none of the students were excited about going. When asked, they quickly admitted that it seemed pointless to try to convince people of something as subjective as a personal opinion about cookies. They recognized that cookie preference is a matter of subjective opinion, rather than objective truth, and none of them were willing to go out of their way to argue for an opinion. I then asked them if they would be willing to follow me into a region of Huntsville that was suffering from a Tuberculosis outbreak to convince those infected with TB to take the one known cure, Isoniazid. All of them found this to be a worthy effort and said they would be willing to help for a cause such as this. They recognized the difference between the cookie and the cure. Cookies are a matter of subjective opinion, but cures are a matter of objective truth. If the people suffering with TB didn’t know about the cure, they would die. Personal opinions about Isoniazid are irrelevant. Some TB sufferers might, for example, prefer to take Ibuprofen. But the objective truth about TB and Isoniazid overshadows any opinion someone might hold about their favorite treatment. Cures are like that. When we are objectively convinced that a particular treatment is the exclusive cure for what is ailing us, we ignore our preferences and act quickly to save ourselves and share the truth with others.
There is a relationship between our categorization of Christian claims and our desire to share them with the world around us. Some of us hesitate to share the Gospel because (whether we care to admit it or not) we’ve come to see religious truth as a matter of subjective opinion rather than objective truth. We treat the Gospel more as a cookie than a cure. That’s why I think it’s important to help young Christians understand how the evidence supports the claims of the New Testament authors. As college students grow in their confidence, their view of Christianity subtly shifts from opinion to objective conviction. When that happens, they are far more likely to share the Gospel with others, courageously defend what they believe and boldly represent Christ in our culture.


