Surviving the Humanist Hurricane by Matt Barber, posted September 22, 2012
Matt Barber says it is not just another election, but an ancient battle being fought to this very day.
The upcoming elections aren’t about Republican vs. Democrat; conservative vs. liberal; Romney vs. Obama. Not entirely, at least. They’re much bigger than all that.
November signifies nothing new. It’s a microcosm of a much greater struggle – one that predates mankind. These elections are about truth vs. lies; light vs. darkness; good vs. evil.
Ultimately, November represents a high point – or a low point if you prefer – in the epic clash between diametrically opposed and fundamentally incompatible worldviews.
On the one hand, we have the Judeo-Christian worldview. It is both informed by and fully acknowledges absolute truth as revealed in the Holy Scriptures. It holds that individuals and nations together are accountable to a sovereign, holy Creator who “does as He pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth” (Daniel 4:35).
It was within the framework of this worldview that our great nation was formed. The historical record is undeniable. Our unique constitutional republic can operate harmoniously within the context of the Judeo-Christian tradition alone.
It declares that, rather than by man – than by government – we are “endowed by [our] Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”
On the other hand, we have the secular-humanist worldview. It, too, represents a tradition old as the days of Noah. It holds that there is no absolute truth and imagines, absolutely, that, as theological giant Francis Schaeffer often described, “Man is the measure of all things.”
It is from this humanist perspective that Barack Obama views the world. He and other “progressives” who share his worldview willfully ignore that, as history proves, when man is the measure of all things, all things can, and usually do, go horribly wrong. Consider, for example, the hundreds of millions killed under the humanist regimes of Hitler, Stalin, Mao, et al.
When man is the measure of all things, all things are necessarily relative. Relativism measures our deeds on a scale unbalanced, with no fixed lines of demarcation between right and wrong. It presumes that the only thing immoral is to presume that there are things immoral.
Schaeffer, writing in “The Christian Manifesto,” noted: “What we must understand is that the two worldviews really do bring forth with inevitable certainty not only personal differences, but total differences in regard to society, government, and law. There is no way to mix these two total worldviews. They are separate entities that cannot be synthesized.”
Indeed, we are at an impasse. We play a zero-sum game that is no game at all. Somebody must win, and somebody must lose.
“It is not too strong to say that we are at war,” wrote Schaeffer, “and there are no neutral parties in the struggle. One either confesses that God is the final authority, or one confesses that Caesar is Lord.”
Under the Judeo-Christian tradition, God is the final authority. What God giveth, God taketh away. Under humanism, man – through government – is lord. What government giveth, government taketh away.
Evangelical luminary Dr. R.C. Sproul once observed: “Humanism was not invented by man, but by a snake who suggested that the quest for autonomy might be a good idea.”
That snake’s eggs have hatched, leaving us to contend with a nest of humanist vipers.
In the end, eternal Truth – the image of God in the person of Jesus Christ – will crush, underfoot, the heads of that snake and his viperous brood. Yet, until such time, believers are not to tarry but, rather, to faithfully join the struggle – no matter how rough the waters become.
And the waters are becoming rough.
Our Founding Fathers had the divinely inspired foresight to construct a constitutional levee against the humanist hurricane. Regrettably, in recent decades that levee has given way, resulting in a devastating secularist flood. Amid the debris and drifting out to sea are, among other things, the dismembered bodies of 55-plus million unborn babies, the tattered institutions of natural marriage and family and respect for sexual purity, virtue and morality.
Also drowning beneath humanism’s neo-Marxist undercurrent are individual liberty, American sovereignty, fiscal solvency and national security. Each of these indispensable items, within both public policy and our cultural at large, barely clings to life.
Ephesians 6:12 declares: “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
Indeed, we are at war. Our struggles are complicated by the reality that many of the aforementioned rulers and authorities – to include Barack Obama and the larger “progressive” establishment – embrace the humanist philosophy. As noted, this philosophy was first planted in the mind of man by the very garden snake who commands “the powers of this dark world” and the “spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
But there is hope. Real hope. Not some nebulous, superficial hope fabricated to fuel a cult of personality.
There is hope in Christ.
Jesus commands His followers to be His hands and feet – to be salt and light in a rotting world that loves darkness.
True, salt preserves, but in an open wound, it also burns. Humanism is an open wound.
True, light’s bright glare can be illuminating to those eager to see. But it is also blinding to those whose eyes have become adjusted to darkness. When the light of Christ is shined, it sends lovers of evil scurrying for the shadows.
Indeed, we struggle to survive the humanist hurricane. America is keeping her head above water; but barely. The upcoming elections may determine whether we as a nation sink or swim – live or die.
Still, whatever happens in November, we must continue to faithfully tread the torrential waters. Although we have a profound opportunity to calm those waters on Nov. 6, humanist storms will always come.
We can once again gain solid footing on dry land, but to do so, we must first save ourselves.
Yet, not alone; we’ve been offered a hand up. We’ve been thrown a lifesaver.
And that Lifesaver walked on torrential waters.