Whether deserved or not, the word “apologetics” has a bad reputation among philosophers and theologians today. It has become associated with a kind of arguing that fails the basic rules of reasoned debate. The apologist, it is said, wants you to be open to the possibility that you might be wrong, but he is not open to that possibility himself (I say “he” because this attitude is more frequently found among men)¹. He already knows he is right and you are wrong: the purpose of the debate is to persuade you of that. Everyone knows how annoying such a person is to talk to, whether they are trying to persuade you to join a denomination, a political party, or a religion. It is annoying because we want our conversations to have openness on both sides, which is what dialogue is really about. A dialogue is not a competition with a winning side and a losing side, like a boxing match. The goal is not to knock down your opponent and drag them out the ring. The “opponent” is not the other person, who is merely flesh and blood (see Ephesians 6:12), but falsehood, and “winning” means finding the truth together. Genuine dialogue only happens when both parties are more interested in the truth than in defending their original position no matter what. The goal of a dialogue is the truth, regardless of who was right to start with. Combat metaphors are so frequently used and are especially unhelpful. Let us instead use the metaphor of a collaborative treasure hunt in which all parties seek the truth and will rejoice together if they find it. Genuine dialogue needs both sides to be willing to follow where the evidence leads even if that means admitting that they were wrong. It takes great courage and humility, and above all vulnerability. But for Christians this is not a problem. We have nothing to lose by this kind of vulnerable truth-seeking attitude. If Jesus is the truth, then the pursuit of truth is the same as the pursuit of Jesus. If Jesus is not the truth, then wouldn’t it be better to know that than remain in deception? To open ourselves to being wrong is to bet everything on Jesus being the truth – and isn’t that something we should be willing to do as Christians? Jesus doesn’t want disciples who cling to him out of fear, but bold disciples who can face all the strongest arguments against faith unflinchingly, because they are confident such arguments ultimately fail.

Genuine dialogue only happens when both parties are more interested in the truth than in defending their original position no matter what.Not everyone who calls themselves an apologist makes this mistake. A lot of good material is still produced under the label “apologetics” and it is not my purpose to discredit that material. Rather, I propose a new term, and with it a new model of engaging the world.

The term I propose is “cultural witness” and its posture is one of testimony to the gospel’s power to bring light into the world.²  It does not pretend to prove the gospel, or to be the only rational account of reality (or even the most rational – that is for the audience to judge). Instead it offers a way of looking at the world through the lens of the Christian faith. It is cultural because it speaks to the culture about the culture’s own concerns, showing that they are made clearer in the light of Christianity. It is a witness to the truth of Christianity, but it witnesses to it by displaying its illuminating power.

The difference between apologetics and cultural witness is well expressed by the scholar René Latourelle, who said that apologetics used “external arguments” to prove “that Jesus is the messenger of God.” This turns the Christian faith into an additional “thing” imposing itself on your life, and the apologist is like a salesperson trying to sell you something you don’t need or want. This strategy, says Latourelle, “overlooked the fact (at least in practice) that the Christian message is supremely intelligible and that its very fullness of meaning is already a motive for accepting it in faith. [Christian] Revelation is ‘believable’ not only because of external signs but also because it reveals human beings to themselves; it is even the only key to an understanding of the mystery of the human person.”³ Christianity is not an extra item of knowledge that you must carry in your arms alongside all the other items, but is like the backpack that helps you carry the other items, organizing them and holding them all together.

Cultural witness does not aim to justify the gospel or even make sense of it, but to use the gospel to explain everything else in life.Cultural witness does not aim to justify the gospel or even make sense of it, but to use the gospel to explain everything else in life. Its focus is not the truths of the faith, but on how those truths illuminate the whole of reality. It starts with the questions, hopes, fears and longings of the people to whom it testifies. Its “subject matter” is things in the world: money, food, sex, political upheaval, depression, careers, relationships, the search for fulfilment and meaning. It is based on Jesus’ saying “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12) and to his disciples, “you are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). To see faith as light is to live according to C.S. Lewis’ famous dictum that “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it but because by it I see everything else.”⁴ The goal of cultural witness is to make the case that “everything else” (the world, the culture, your life and its meaning) can be understood better in the light of the gospel than without it.

Cultural witness also issues a challenge to theologians and theology students who can often be focused on inner-Christian debates and topics: prayer, “worship wars,” biblical interpretation, inter-denominational fights, Trinity, Incarnation, Atonement, etc. These are worthy and essential pursuits and I do not mean to discourage them in the least. But the task of theology is incomplete, lacking something essential, if it has nothing to say about how those things make a difference to matters outside the church. How do prayer and worship change the everyday life of the worshipper when they are not praying or worshipping? How does the Trinity challenge our individualism? How do different Atonement models affect political questions of justice, punishment, and reconciliation?

There are undoubtedly countless instances of cultural witness in the church today, but I wish to draw attention to two I am involved with. The first is an online magazine, Seen & Unseen, drawn from a line in the creed about God the creator of all things “seen and unseen” (or “visible and invisible”).⁵  The magazine’s purpose is to make sense of the “seen” (the world) in light of the “unseen” (God). Its strapline is “Christian perspectives on just about everything.” All of its authors, including me,⁶ write with a non-Christian audience in mind. It has some articles that explain (not “prove” or “argue for”) Christian beliefs, but most of its content offers a “Christian take” on news, entertainment, and current events – things that non-Christians know and care about.

The second is a podcast, Faith at the Frontiers, which discusses diverse Christian responses to global challenges: immigration, AI, climate change, nationalism, colonialism, economics, etc.⁷  Its strapline is “confronting challenges to the Christian faith with hope.” Unlike most Christian podcasts, it does not discuss topics that only a Christian would care about. It is relentlessly “outward focused.” Each episode features an expert who offers a Christian way to respond to a particular challenge facing society. We aim to ask, fearlessly, non-defensively, and with a hopeful heart, what Christians can learn, and more importantly, what Christians can offer to the rest of the world as an answer to the challenge.

As Jesus came into the world to save it, so he sends us into the world. Let us go joyfully and hopefully, witnessing to the truth of our faith as to a light shining in a dark place.