Note: Last Updated 6/4/2025.
C. S. Lewis:
One last word. I have found that nothing is more dangerous to one’s own faith than the work of an apologist. No doctrine of that Faith seems to me so spectral, so unreal as one that I have just successfully defended in a public debate. For a moment, you see, it has seemed to rest on oneself: as a result, when you go away from the debate, it seems no stronger than that weak pillar. That is why we apologists take our lives in our hands and can be saved only by falling back continually from the web of our own arguments, as from our intellectual counters, into the Reality — from Christian apologetics into Christ Himself.
(C. S. Lewis, “Christian Apologetics;” In: C. S. Lewis, God in the Dock: Essays on Theology and Ethics, ed. Walter Hooper, [Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1970], p. 103.)
C. S. Lewis:
We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
(C. S. Lewis, “The Weight of Glory;” In: C. S. Lewis, Screwtape Proposes A Toast: And Other Pieces, [London and Glasgow: Fontana Books, 1965], pp. 94-95.)
M. de Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet):
If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him [Si Dieu n’existait pas, il faudrait l’inventer].
(Voltaire, “A L’auteur du Livre des Trois Imposteurs;” In: Œuvres Complètes de Voltaire: Tome XIII, Poésies, Tome Second, [Paris: P. Dupont, Libraire-Éditeur, 1825], Épitre CXCVIII, p. 386.)
Note: Because we cannot function as individuals or societies without necessarily presupposing Him.
Blaise Pascal:
Order. Men despise religion. They hate it and are afraid it may be true. The cure for this is first to show that religion is not contrary to reason, but worthy of reverence and respect. Next make it attractive, make good men wish it were true, and then show that it is. Worthy of reverence because it really understands human nature. Attractive because it promises true good.
(Blaise Pascal, Pensées, trans. A. J. Krailsheimer, [London: Penguin Books, 1966], # 12 (187), p. 34.)
Cardinal César de La Luzerne (1738-1821 A.D.):
Our goal is less to make you see how true religion is than to make you feel how beautiful it is. [Notre but est moins de vous faire voir combien la Religion est vraie, que de vous faire sentir combien elle est aimable.]
(César de la Luzerne, Instruction Pastorale sur L’Excellence de la Religion, [Lyon: Giberton et Brun, 1838], p. 5; trans. Avery Cardinal Dulles, A History of Apologetics, [San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2005], p. 226.)
George MacDonald:
The best thing you can do for your fellow, next to rousing his conscience, is—not to give him things to think about, but to wake things up that are in him; or say, to make him think things for himself.
(George MacDonald, “The Fantastic Imagination;” In: George MacDonald, A Dish of Orts: Chiefly Papers on the Imagination, and on Shakspere: Enlarged Edition, [London: Sampson Low Marston & Company, 1895], p. 319.)
C. S. Lewis:
Suppose I think, after doing my accounts, that I have a large balance at the bank. And suppose you want to find out whether this belief of mine is ‘wishful thinking’. You can never come to any conclusion by examining my psychological condition. Your only chance of finding out is to sit down and work through the sum yourself. When you have checked my figures, then, and then only, will you know whether I have that balance or not. If you find my arithmetic correct, then no amount of vapouring about my psychological condition can be anything but a waste of time. If you find my arithmetic wrong, then it may be relevant to explain psychologically how I came to be so bad at my arithmetic, and the doctrine of the concealed wish will become relevant — but only after you have yourself done the sum and discovered me to be wrong on purely arithmetical grounds. It is the same with all thinking and all systems of thought. If you try to find out which are tainted by speculating about the wishes of the thinkers, you are merely making a fool of yourself. You must first find out on purely logical grounds which of them do, in fact, break down as arguments. Afterwards, if you like, go on and discover the psychological causes of the error.
In other words, you must show that a man is wrong before you start explaining why he is wrong. The modern method is to assume without discussion that he is wrong and then distract his attention from this (the only real issue) by busily explaining how he became so silly. In the course of the last fifteen years I have found this vice so common that I have had to invent a name for it. I call it Bulverism. Some day I am going to write the biography of its imaginary inventor, Ezekiel Bulver, whose destiny was determined at the age of five when he heard his mother say to his father — who had been maintaining that two sides of a triangle were together greater than the third —‘Oh you say that because you are a man.’ ‘At that moment’, E. Bulver assures us, ‘there flashed across my opening mind the great truth that refutation is no necessary part of argument. Assume that your opponent is wrong, and then explain his error, and the world will be at your feet. Attempt to prove that he is wrong or (worse still) try to find out whether he is wrong or right, and the national dynamism of our age will thrust you to the wall.’ That is how Bulver became one of the makers of the Twentieth Century.
(C. S. Lewis, “Bulverism;” In: C. S. Lewis, God In the Dock: Essays on Theology and Ethics, ed. Walter Hooper, [Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1970], pp. 272-273.)
Henri Blocher:
1. We must first of all stress the theme of the “heart” as the organ of thought. If we classify the texts of the Old Testament describing the functions attributed to the heart, those which are intellectual in nature are the most often evoked. The heart is the core of the thinking person. In the book of Proverbs, we often find the expression “who lacks understanding,” as one of the ways in which the fool is characterized. Literally, it is “who lacks heart.” The translation “understanding” is not inaccurate here, though the Hebrew word (there are two forms, lev and levav) is elsewhere translated “heart.” The notion has now evolved in meaning. For us, the heart is the seat of affections. This was not the case in previous times when it referred to courage (“Rodrigue, do you have heart?”). In the Bible, the heart is first the locus of the intellect, then of the will, and clearly later, that of emotion. In the Gospels, if the inspired authors who record the words of Jesus specify that loving God with “all your heart” is to love him with “all your mind” (for example in Mark 12:30), it is because in Greek, “heart” especially evoked “courage.” It was necessary to add the latter term related to the mind so that the Greek readers might fully understand. In Jeremiah 31:33, the prophet proclaims to the Israelites that God “will write his law on their hearts.” In Hebrews 10:16, which quotes this passage, after the word used to translate “heart” the inspired writer adds the Greek term for “understanding” (in 8:10, the reversed word order confirms their equivalence). This detail is significant, for the heart is not only the seat of understanding; it is also the locus of the will, while emotions, too, play a role. This fact precludes reason from being considered a separate entity. In a sense, we might say that there is no “reason” only people who reason. There are only “hearts,” or “interior beings,” who are complex networks of intellectual, volitional, and affective functions. Confronted with their world, confronted with the data of experience, humans endowed with a heart seek at once to distinguish objects and their components, to grasp them together, to seek the connections linking them. These are the two main functions of the mind and they are inseparable: to discern and to understand; namely, to identify necessary relationships. We comprehend and our reason is satisfied when we are not content to see that two things follow one another, but see why it was necessary that they follow one another. It is this necessary connection that reason seeks. When reason has seized it, it has acquired a knowledge that stands out from the present moment. It knows that the sequence will occur again, since A necessarily brought about B.
2. A second biblical given, and of paramount importance, is the theme of the darkening of the mind in the life of the unbeliever, or his inability to comprehend the things of God. The theme is found in several passages: “The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God” (1 Corinthians 2:14 ESV). Paul also speaks of the “darkened understanding” of unbelievers (Ephesians 4:18 ESV), or of “their foolish hearts [being] darkened” (Romans 1:21 ESV). If the mind were an autonomous faculty, it does not follow that merely being an unbeliever, or a worshipper of Jupiter or Baal, would affect the mind. We have here then the formal pronouncement that the mind bears the consequences of the choices of the heart in matters religious.
3. Another biblical theme is of a piece with the preceding one, to wit, the doctrine according to which God must impress an orientation on the heart of man for him to think aright, for his intellect to be sound, for him to appreciate what should be appreciated. Already, in the Old Testament, the foundational proverb affirms that “the fear of the LORD is the principle of wisdom” (Proverbs 1:7). Often this verse is rendered “the beginning of wisdom,” but “principle” is more exact. It is not simply a matter of starting from scratch, but of the principle which presides for the duration.
(Henri Blocher, Faith & Reason, [Peabody: Hendrickson 2017], pp. 28-30.)
Henri Blocher:
Right motivation matters. Do we engage in apologetics for the pure pleasure of the interplay of ideas (for the back and forth of argument can often resemble a ping-pong match)? Do we try to crush the “adversary” only to show off our own superiority? Or even do we aim only toward a utilitarian purpose, such as expanding church rolls by recruiting new members? I doubt that endeavors driven by such motives will bear much fruit for the kingdom, or that they will enjoy the favor of divine blessing.
There are three reasons for seeking out with perseverance the most persuasive reasons for believing (i.e., to engage in apologetics). Considerations which are carefully weighed, closely examined, based on the known facts and the coherence of cause and effect, render the decision for faith responsible. Such is their primary function. Certainly, God, in his free mercy, can suddenly awaken faith in an individual, without there being a rational conscious process on his part (though we can suppose unconscious preparations at work): God can touch, it seems, through just emotions. However, in general, he wishes to raise his sons and daughters, his covenant partners, to be responsible. He prefers that they become committed to faith in an intelligent and deliberative manner (like the Bereans in Acts 17:11; see 1 Corinthians 10:15 and 14:20). Otherwise, whom do they really believe and what do they really believe? Any manipulator is capable of moving emotions. Serious arguments make all the difference between faith and credulity. Biblical faith is the opposite of credulity.
The second function of apologetics is to put into practice love for our neighbor. Nothing less. If Christ’s love draws us toward our neighbor, filling us with the desire to have him see at last the Truth of Grace, we will not want to manipulate him, which would only serve to diminish him. We will not be content to present him with the Act of Christ and the offer of Salvation matter-of-factly. We will try to persuade him, because, loving him in God’s way, we desire his good. We will seek to enter into his thought processes and to suggest reasons which will shake him, reasons which will break down his mental strongholds and disabuse him of his fallacies (cf. 2 Corinthians 10:4-5). If we make no effort in this vein (adapted, adjusted, to each person), we hardly love him, and rather we love him amiss.
The third function should stimulate in us the strongest motivation: by seeking persuasive reasons for faith, we give glory to God. It is a matter of demonstrating that we love him with all our mind. We want to focus, as a lens does the rays of the sun, the brilliance of his Name—this splendor that all his works reflect (Psalm 8), this witness to his power and his divinity which the heavens and the earth proclaim (Psalm 19; Romans 1). By the same token, we want to erase the stain which unbelief represents, for he who does not receive the testimony of God makes God a liar (1 John 5:9-10). The philosopher Bertrand Russell used to claim that were he to be questioned by the Sovereign Judge at the Last Judgment (a doctrine which he derided, of course, as a myth), he would justify his refusal to believe in these terms: “Not enough evidence! Not enough evidence!” Now, therein lies an impudence which apologetics must combat! The God whose grace has taken hold of us is the God of Truth, who possesses in himself the principle of revelation, to wit his logos or Word: he wants to express and to reveal who he is in his magnificence—which is his glory. He has also created us in his image with the capacity to recognize him: our understanding of his revelation serves to mirror his glory. However weak and defective our minds may be, however dented and rusted the mirror, we begin to glorify God when we seek out the reasons in support of his existence.
(Henri Blocher, Faith & Reason, [Peabody: Hendrickson 2017], pp. 3-5.)
George MacDonald:
When I am successful in any argument, my one dread is of humiliating my opponent. Indeed I cannot bear it. It humiliates me. And if you want him to think about anything, you must leave him room, and not give him such associations with the question that the very idea of it will be painful and irritating to him. Let him have a hand in the convincing of himself. I have been surprised sometimes to see my own arguments come up fresh and green, when I thought the fowls of the air had devoured them up. When a man reasons for victory and not for the truth in the other soul, he is sure of just one ally, the same that Faust had in fighting Gretchen’s brother—that is, the Devil. But God and good men are against him. So I never follow up a victory of that kind, for, as I said, the defeat of the intellect is not the object in fighting with the sword of the Spirit, but the acceptance of the heart.
(George Macdonald, Annals of a Quiet Neighbourhood, [New York: George Routledge and Sons, 1873], Chapter IV: The Coffin, pp. 46-47.)
Henri Blocher:
What transpires when we enter into “apologetic” dialogue, when we propose an apologia to individuals who do not yet adhere to the gospel? We do not put ourselves on the same footing as the natural man left to his own devices, we do not adopt his presuppositions. We speak according to the truth that God has made known to us, by his grace. We emphasize the true structure of things: we highlight the witness that reality bears to its creator. As a result, it becomes more difficult for natural man who is in conversation with us to suppress and divert this witness, as he usually does. Where he would evade something, we bring it to his attention. At that point, one of two things will occur: either he will suppress even more, not wanting to understand, digging in deeper his heels—and our arguments are not going to overcome his hardness of heart!—or the Holy Spirit will use the arguments that we employ and will impress upon him the structure of reality such as God has created it, whereupon his defenses will break down, the distorted perspective will dissolve, and he will become open to other ideas, notably to the idea of God. This is what the New Testament calls metanoia (conversion), which is “another way of thinking” (the word comes from the root of the word "intellect, reason"). Herein lies the essence of apologetic argumentation. We must not think that arguments alone suffice. If our interlocutor barricades himself behind presuppositions that are contrary to those of God, our arguments will make little headway with him. He can very well close himself off from them. If it pleases God, though, they can still serve as a tool of the Holy Spirit.
…1. As the degree of perspective distortion differs among individuals and from place to place, we must always adapt ourselves to the interlocutor. Our first objective is to “surprise” him. With respect to the system he has established (the spiritual-intellectual lockbox which keeps a lid on his feelings of insecurity), we must awaken what he has suppressed and unsettle him. This is what we hope can destabilize the distorting system by which he holds truth captive. Where there is little distortion, we can get a foot in the door and raise questions, as does Paul in Acts 17. The apostle makes use of the assertion—albeit somewhat veiled and pantheistic: “We are his offspring” (Acts 17:28 NIV). He builds on it to query his interlocutors as to their idolatry: If you recognize that humanity is God’s progeny, why do you make gods out of stone and wood? Paul points out the contradiction, and he does so in taking into account the audience he has before him. Addressing Stoics, he cites the words of a Stoic poet.
2. Another practical consideration: What is it that may cause our interlocutor to feel, when we present our arguments before him, that it would be difficult to continue in his distortion of reality? He assimilates this thanks to that uncanny ability which our mind has to “touch” the mind of the Other. When we speak to one another, a kind of connection is established, a spiritual connection. We mimic in our own thought patterns the thoughts of the Other, which touch us. It is in this same way that our words in conversation do not remain simply external to our interlocutor, but awaken in him what he had tried to suppress. However, this phenomenon of spiritual communication, which exists between individual humans, is greatly facilitated, nay multiplied, when there is a positive affective environment, for it is the heart of man as an entire being who thinks. When it is a trusted friend who presents this brand-new thought, it penetrates more deeply, it is more difficult to dismiss, than when it is a stranger or a disagreeable personality. Personal relationships, therefore, have a large part in apologetics.
Such is the promise that God makes to the apologist, to the humble and courageous disciple who seeks to persuade with serious arguments the brother or sister in our common humanity. Liberated at once from rationalism and irrationalism, the mind renewed by the Word can touch the mind of a conversational partner—something which the Holy Spirit can use in turn to liberate him through the knowledge of Truth for Life anew.
(Henri Blocher, Faith & Reason, [Peabody: Hendrickson 2017], pp. 32-33, 33-34.)καὶ αὐτός ἐστιν πρὸ πάντων καὶ τὰ πάντα ἐν αὐτῷ συνέστηκεν ~ Soli Deo Gloria
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