Background Belief: Why I Couldn't Hear Christianity Until I Stopped Arguing With It

Background Belief: Why I Couldn't Hear Christianity Until I Stopped Arguing With It
Photo by Alexander Hafemann / Unsplash

Dear reader,

Timothy Keller said something in his Questioning Christianity series that stuck with me: it doesn't matter how much historical evidence you present for Christianity if your background belief is that Christianity is fundamentally bad. The facts won't penetrate. You'll find a way to dismiss them.

I recognized myself immediately. Not in my faith journey yet, but in my political one.

From Cult to Curiosity

I grew up in a progressive environment. College reinforced it. The unspoken curriculum was clear: anything right-of-center is racist, sexist, built for white people or self-hating minorities. We believed we were the enlightened ones. Everyone else? Brainwashed. In a cult.

Then I decided to actually listen to what conservatives believed. Not to mock them, but to understand why half the country sees the world differently.

I downloaded conservative podcasts. Loaded up YouTube channels. Hit play.

The first listen felt forbidden. Like I was letting the devil whisper in my ear. These were taboo opinions, words I shouldn't entertain. Democrats called it "Faux News." (Ironic, since the right now uses "fake news" the same way.) Some of the rhetoric didn't help: "drinking leftist tears," "China virus," slurs dressed up as jokes. It validated every accusation I'd heard about dog whistles and bad faith.

The second listen, I put on my analytical hat. After every claim, I had a rebuttal loaded. A leftist talking point ready to fire. I wasn't listening. I was preparing my counterargument. I was there to teach, not explore.

The third time, I tried something different. I let go of the rebuttals. I swallowed the pills whole, even though they didn't go down easy. I listened like a student in grade school, accepting information provisionally, without critique unless the material itself demanded it. College taught me to "unlearn," to question everything. This required the opposite.

Some claims contradicted my own lived experience. I kept listening anyway.

And eventually, something clicked.

I stopped seeing conservatives as evil. Not always right, sometimes ignorant, sure, but not malicious. (Though I'll admit, scrolling Fox News comments still makes me wince.) I started seeing well-meaning people with different frameworks for justice and equality. The leftist objections didn't disappear, but they stopped drowning out everything else. Conservative viewpoints gained weight because I finally gave them space to exist in my head without a firing squad.

The Faith Parallel

Hearing Christian apologetics feels similar now.

I no longer see Christianity as bad. But I do see it as less reliable than I want it to be. And I suspect that's my background belief talking, not the evidence.

When I hear "Scripture is everything," my reflex kicks in: But what about shellfish? What about people punished for not believing? Standard objections. The kind that sound smart in a dorm room at 2 a.m.

The more I read, the more I realize these are "didn't read the assignment" questions. There's heavy context I'm missing: hermeneutics, covenant theology, genre awareness. I sound like the student who skipped the reading but showed up to argue with the lecture.

Here's where I am: I'm reaching the point where I could surrender to the resurrection claim without needing an archaeological dissertation first. But part of me thinks I should do the deep dive. Study historical methodologies, manuscript evidence, all of it. What stresses me out is wondering if that's genuine humility or just intellectual procrastination. A distraction from actually getting closer to God.

Maybe it's both. Maybe the research is a form of getting closer, a way of honoring God with my mind. Or maybe I'm building a moat around my heart and calling it due diligence.

A Brief Look at Culture

The political journey taught me something: depolarization isn't about finding the "right" side. It's about recognizing you were never listening in the first place. You were guarding territory. The moment I stopped needing conservatives to be wrong, I could finally hear what they were actually saying. Not all of it landed, but some of it did, and that changed me.

I wonder if faith works the same way. Not that truth is relative, but that my ability to hear truth depends on whether I've already decided the answer.

What I'm Trying (You're Welcome to Join Me)

  1. Notice when I'm rehearsing rebuttals. If I'm reading Scripture or apologetics and already composing my counterargument, I stop. Take a breath. Try again with empty hands instead of clenched fists.
  2. Read one thing I disagree with, slowly. Not to debunk it, but to inhabit it. What would it feel like if this were true? What would change?
  3. Ask "What am I protecting?" when resistance flares. Sometimes my pushback isn't about the claim itself. It's about what I'd have to give up if the claim were true.
  4. Separate "I don't understand this yet" from "This is false." Ignorance isn't the same as disproof. If I haven't done the work to understand covenant theology, I don't get to use shellfish as a gotcha.
  5. Pray before reading theology. Specifically: Help me hear what You're actually saying, not what I've decided You're saying.

Examen

For Guidance (Book of Common Prayer)

"O God, by whom the meek are guided in judgment, and light rises up in darkness for the godly: Grant us, in all our doubts and uncertainties, the grace to ask what you would have us to do, that the Spirit of wisdom may save us from all false choices, and that in your light we may see light, and in your straight path may not stumble; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Personal prayer:
God, I'm good at listening to win. Teach me to listen to learn. When I come to Scripture with my arguments already loaded, quiet me. When I'm more interested in being right than being changed, soften me. If the deep dive into history is what I need, give me patience for it. If it's a detour, redirect me. I don't know which it is yet. Help me trust that You do.

Amen.