Over time, people change. Over time their ideas change.
There are probably few of us who think the same in our 50’s as we did in our 20’s.
Those currently in their 20’s will be tempted to dismiss such change as “selling
out”. Those currently in their 50’s will probably shrug and call it “growing up”.
With some things it doesn’t particularly matter. But changing some ideas is a
big deal.
In my 20’s I spent quite a lot of time hanging about with a
bunch of sparky characters in the Glasgow University Christian Union. We were, most
of us, pretty sure of our ideas. Much of our thinking (and a lot of our
arguing) was suffused with the certainty of youth. And this was thinking about
the big stuff, like how we should live, what characteristics and attitudes we
should manifest, and even our eternal destinies. But we had more than just
youthful enthusiasm on our side. We felt that this certainty really sprang from
a sure foundation that we had found. That foundation was both personal and
objective. It was personal in the sense that it was based on a person, none
other than God Himself. It was objective, because God had revealed Himself in a
book that was open to all to read and respond to – the Bible. Certainty was a
bit unfashionable at that time. Some condemned it as naiveté, some as
stupidity. Others saw it as leading to a stifling of adventure and liberty. If
anything, certainty today is even more unfashionable. At the time we had our
critics who claimed this was all a bit of a phase we were going through. We
would grow out of it. We would grow up. We would change our ideas.
Thirty years or so later, these reflections are prompted by
the observation that a number of friends from that period have indeed changed
their thinking. Some changed quickly, some slowly. Some changed superficially,
some fundamentally. And maybe some of us haven’t changed much at all. The
change I’m talking about is not the superficial stuff of hair presence or
colour, tastes in music, or even taste in politics. I’m sure we all change in
lots of ways with age, and should. What I’m talking about are our responses to
those more basic issues: life, death and eternity, lifestyle, values, motives
and attitudes.
Some have claimed they have indeed moved on and grown up. They
weren’t wrong at the time, for that time, but it was indeed just a phase. A
sort of youthful hobby that they had time for then, but not as real responsibilities
accumulated. So grace, Gospel, Bible, Church, Jesus – all that kind of thing faded from importance; like an attachment to
an old childhood toy. Some have made a much stronger claim. The views they held
then, certainties about Heaven and Hell, salvation and sin, Christ and cross,
were just wrong. Forgivable in the young perhaps, but they know better now. It’s
not that their views then aren’t appropriate now, but that those views are
wrong and misconceived now, and in fact were wrong and misconceived then.
My observation is that there is also a group who, in a sense,
have not changed their ideas. It’s not that they haven’t changed. For thirty years
of life experience not to produce change would be tragic. But the changes are
about sensitivity and nuance, not a change to basic ideas and thoughts. Perhaps
an increased sense of life’s complexities, bringing a realisation of where the certainties
are and where they are not. I belong to this group. And I’ve been trying to figure
out why.
It’s a bit unclear who actually said “When the facts change,
I change my ideas”. It has been attributed to J.M. Keyes the renowned
economist. But there appears to be no record of him actually saying these
words. I’ve commented previously about what slippery creatures facts are.
Never-the-less, the notion here is clear. I might hold certain views based on
certain things I know (or think I know). But if what I have based my thinking
on changes, then by implication it’s only right that my thinking changes too.
Changed premises should lead to changed conclusions. Suppose I believe that
Jesus of Nazareth was not just a man (albeit a great one) but that He was God because
he died and rose from the dead. Bit of a bold and contested claim I know. But
suppose I find this belief (and all that flows from it) credible because I have
weighed the evidence supporting it, primarily concerning an empty tomb, and
found it persuasive. Then a startling new piece of evidence comes to light –
say for the sake of argument the bones of Jesus of Nazareth! Not that anyone is
likely to find a casket of bones conveniently labelled, whose provenance is uncontested
– facts are slippery remember. But on weighing the new evidence, I conclude
that it is credible, and trumps the evidence on the other side of the argument.
I would have to change my thinking fundamentally.
So, now flip this around. Reflecting on the experience of
many of my friends who have changed their ideas, I’m curious to know what “facts”
have changed. Because to me, most of the facts on which I based my views all
those years ago have not changed. I have changed. My circumstances have
certainly changed. My responsibilities have changed. But the facts? My conviction
that the God who is, and has revealed Himself in His Son and in His Book,
remains. At various times it has been tempting to turn my back on what to me
are certainties. It would have freed me to perhaps do things that at the time
seemed attractive, or behave in ways that would have been pragmatic or
expedient. But I would have been fooling myself. I would have been conveniently
self-deluded. And although certainty is deeply unfashionable, I don’t see any
point in denying that there are some things, some very important things, of
which I am convinced. Things I am certain of.
Hopefully as long as the facts do not change, neither will
my thinking.
