Why Sincere Beliefs Cannot Save You

We live in a pluralistic society and so it is fitting, generally speaking, that all beliefs are accorded equal respect.  Unfortunately, this mindset seems to have convinced many people today that all beliefs have equally validity. As it relates to matters “spiritual,” the modern skeptic thinks that no religion has the corner on truth (assuming that such a thing as “truth” actually exists).  “What works for you is fine, but don’t try imposing those values on me” is a common approach. “All religions basically say the same thing,” they say, “so as long as you are sincere in your beliefs, that’s all that really matters.” What they mean, of course, is that religion has nothing to teach. It is, instead, some sort of placebo and as long as you really "believe in it," your particular view on eternity is as good as any other.

Christianity, by contrast, does not stake out an ambiguous position. Man is in deep trouble, due to his rebellion against his Creator, and he needs a savior to get him out of the mess he’s in. Without that savior, he’s headed for a bad place, and he can’t help himself. The “good news” is that help is out there, if we are only open to it.

So, which view conforms to the way things really are? Is there one right religion, or should we remain complacent in the belief that a sincere belief will work out just fine at the end of the day?

Perhaps the first place to look for an answer to this question is within nature itself. None of us constructed this universe we happen to find ourselves in, but it certainly appears to be operating under a set of rules. If there is a “rule-maker,” perhaps he has left some clues for us within the structure of his creation, just as an artist might leave a distinctive message within a work of art.  But looking to nature provides no support for the skeptic’s view, for nowhere in nature does it appear that a sincerely held, but mistaken, belief can “save” you.  I may be convinced that the ledge I am standing on is sturdy, but the force of gravity is not lessened by my belief, if it is mistaken. If I have diabetes and three vials are sitting in front of me - one with water, one with insulin and one with arsenic - the "saving" power of the liquid depends not on what I think it contains, but on what it actually contains. If I mistakenly believe that the pool I am diving into is full of water, I may still suffer permanent paralysis despite the sincerity of my belief. 

Take for example submarine officers from the US and Soviet navies.  Both were operating nuclear power plants using the same scientific principles and both had confidence that their ships could protect them from radiation.  For each officer, this confidence was based on trust that the ship’s "saving" power – its design and safeguards – was adequate to the task.  The American sub employed such safeguards while the Soviet navy cut corners.  Any particular American officer may have doubted his safety, while his Soviet counterpart may have had total confidence.  In the end, what mattered was not the sincerity of the beliefs, but the object in which the belief was placed. And predictably, countless Soviet sailors suffered radiation sickness while their American counterparts did not. 

On and on the examples go, for in nature it appears quite apparent that what matters is what is actually true, and not whether our mistaken beliefs are sincere or not. Yet, many people seem quite willing to apply this faulty approach to the most important question we face - what happens to us after we die? 

Why should that question be any different? Where does a person derive confidence to say that God will simply understand that he or she chose to ignore God, trusting that their belief in their own ultimate goodness would save them?  Everywhere I look in nature, I see consequences that often appear as harsh as they are permanent. 

This is not to say that God is not loving.  But his love does not express itself in giving us numerous chances to "get things right" or to undo the consequences of our poor choices.  In short, I can see no reason to trifle with God and to expect he will see things my way in the end, simply because I meant well.  So from where does the skeptic derive is confidence?

Why Sincere Beliefs Cannot Save You

Memorial Day and a Biblical Perspective on Deadly Force

PleaseConvinceMe Podcast 258

In this podcast, Jim examines what the Old and New Testament have to say about the use of deadly force. Did Jesus establish a form of Christian pacifism that prevents Christians from serving in the armed forces or law enforcement? Jim also looks at the relationship between worldview and our use of words and answers listener email related to his “Simple Case for Traditional Marriage”.

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Memorial Day and a Biblical Perspective on Deadly Force

Why Reason Doesn't Tell Us Much About God

Many modern skeptics have convinced themselves that if there is a God, he will comply with their sense of “reasonableness.” He will have no demands of them, other than that they be “good” people, however that may be defined. My last two posts have addressed the inherent problem in trying to identify God’s attributes from unaided “reason.” I’ll continue the effort here by focusing on why unaided reason cannot get us accurate knowledge of God.

When I use the term God, I am referring to that being a greater than which cannot be conceived.  Whatever attribute of being you can imagine – eg. power, knowledge, goodness, love - God has it in infinite measure.  A moment’s reflection on what this entails should convince us that, by definition, we as limited and finite beings cannot possibly grasp the full nature and breadth of these perfections.  At most, we can approximate them based on what they are like to us.  

Because of the limitations of our knowledge, especially as to infinite or ultimate things, unaided reason (i.e. divorced from Biblical or “special” revelation) is of limited use for understanding God.  Think of it this way: a carpenter makes use of various tools to build a house.  These tools, and his skill, allow him to put walls up, build floors and staircases, and cover it all with a roof.  As he builds, he lays wiring and plumbing and other things that interconnect the house to form a functional product.  How the tools work, and how the pieces fit together using the tricks of the trade, are analogous to reason.  Reason gets us from point A to point B in a logical fashion. However, reason - knowing how to fit pieces together - will never get us the blueprint to the house.  That requires a mind that reveals itself and its plan in a way that is capable of being perceived.  Thus, no amount of discussion about whether it’s better to use a nail or a screw will assist us in determining what the completed house will look like, unless the architect reveals himself, and his plans, in some way.
 
        Questions about eternity, or the requirements for salvation, move us into an area in which reason alone can contribute very little.  We can know some things about our Creator from the way he made things. He is immensely intelligent and powerful, for example, and appears also to be quite artistic.  But we cannot know much about what his ultimate plan for us is.  For that, he needs to reveal himself in some way.  From the Christian perspective, he did this through the incarnation, life, death and resurrection of his son.  Reason and logic support the conclusion, from evidence in the historical record, that Jesus rose from the dead.  This bodily resurrection, because it was a unique and real event in history, authenticates Jesus' message as coming from God.  Consequently, his teachings, and those of his followers, have an authenticity that is quite weighty.  Without the resurrection, they would have no relevance at all.  However, with the resurrection, they are the most important things we humans can interest ourselves in, because they give us access to those things which lie outside of our senses' capacity to gather information and evidence. 

          With this analogy in mind, the skeptics’ challenge sounds something like: explain to me using your knowledge of how tools work why the building has two stories and a stained glass ceiling and why the hallway has no windows?  The short answer is, "I don't know."  I can speculate as to why God did things a certain way, but reason cannot make such things clear.  It would be like asking, "Wouldn’t it be better if the moon were habitable, since it is the closest thing to Earth and we could colonize it?"  Yes, that would make perfect sense, but it just isn't that way, so whether it makes sense for it to be a different way really doesn't matter.

 

The question my first post addressed can now be reconsidered: wouldn’t it make more sense for God to offer unlimited chances for salvation?  Sure, that might make sense to us, since we are the ones that would presumably benefit from it. But how would God view it? Would it tend to make people complacent, so they never got serious about what God is asking of them? How well would we do in school, or at work, if we were never being graded for any of our performance? 

   

Moreover, if God is indeed perfect, does it not make sense that he would have optimized creation, so that what he sets into motion isn’t just one of the possible alternatives, but the best of all possible alternatives.  Maybe the moon isn’t habitable because a moon with water on it would prevent life from existing on earth.  Maybe multiple chances at salvation would reduce the number of people who are saved.  Given the absence of evidence to form conclusions, it seems appropriate to me to leave these matters to God.

            At the end of the day, unaided reason cannot give us an assurance that we will have multiple chances for salvation, or that God will perform according to our wishes.  Indeed, since I can never prove that multiple chances are given, why would I err on that side?  Would it not be more reasonable to get it right the first time, and not have to face the possibility that we might reincarnate into a really bad life, or that reincarnation is false after all?

            Reason is a valuable tool in building knowledge. It also helps ground Christian faith in historical fact. But it cannot substitute for transcendent knowledge. And even if we convince ourselves that our views “make sense” to us, this will matter very little if those views don’t first “make sense” to him who made us. 

Why Reason Doesn't Tell Us Much About God

Is God Unfair? (Part II)

My last post examined the basis for the challenge that God is “unfair.” I tried to show that notions of “fairness” can only make sense once one has determined who is making the rules. As it relates to supernatural things – including what lies beyond the door that death will open – I argued that unaided reason is of no assistance. With no data to operate upon, it has nothing to contribute. 

Christian theology offers an alternative. It provides data we can use in forming conclusions about the meaning of this life and what lies beyond. It does this by revealing truth, by explaining how things really are.  Two sources of knowledge, areas which may appear to be somewhat in tension, are actually harmonized.  The first area is that which God built into the nature of things.  This is referred to as general revelation and is the subject of natural law.   It is what Christians mean when we say that some things are written on the heart or when we speak of the knowledge from conscience. The other area is that which God chooses to reveal about himself and his views.  This is referred to as special revelation and for Christians is the Bible.

 

The skeptic looks at the Christian claim as to what is required for salvation and he concludes that these requirements do not appear “reasonable.” They lack “fairness” for a variety of “reasons,” largely because they are exclusive claims that don't reward all "sincere" people.  But when the skeptic does this, he is actually missing the point. The question is not whether Christian doctrine meets a person’s test of reasonableness. That is what the fairness challenge raises, in essence – that Christian doctrine regarding salvation is unfair because it is unreasonable. The issue instead is one of truth. However apparently unreasonable it may seem, is Christian doctrine relating to salvation true?

An apt question at this point would be how can a conclusion – the skeptic’s in this case - be apparently reasonable but still not true?  The answer is that reason is simply a tool we use to arrive at conclusions and where we lack information or knowledge, we may reach a faulty conclusion, however valid the reasoning that got us there may be.

Some definition of terms may be helpful. By truth, I mean correspondence to the way things really are.  A true statement, then, is one that is accurate, that corresponds to what really exists. Human beings are hard-wired to have a desire for both knowledge and truth.  No matter how much any one lies, or intends to deceive, no one wants to be on the receiving end of deception.  As a prosecutor, I have come to appreciate the importance of determining the truth.  For example, reason alone might tell me that a defendant is worthy of punishment for prior crimes, but I can only legitimately convict a person if he committed the currently charged offense.  Conversely, it is offensive for a jury to acknowledge that the case was proven beyond a reasonable doubt, but acquit anyway because the defendant had a tough childhood or he seemed like a nice guy.  These reasons, however sincerely held by the jurors, offend our sense of justice, because they ignore what is true.

Reason, or rational thought, is essentially the tool we make use of to find truth.  It comes in basic forms, such as inductive or deductive reasoning.  We use reason to make sense of the world as we perceive it, to form conclusions from our sense impressions, to draw deductions or inferences from evidence.  We can test certain ideas using it.  But reason does not provide us with raw data.  For that, we rely on our senses.  

Reason can lead us astray when we misuse it, as for example when we engage in fallacious arguments.  But it can also lead us astray when we lack knowledge or information.  Take, for example, the scene of a murder.  A woman is found with multiple bullet wounds.  Her estranged husband's gun was used to kill her and his alibi has been proven false.  Witnesses describe a rancorous breakup, giving the husband a classic motive.  Witnesses saw him enter the house a short while before hearing shots being fired.  Given these facts, it would be reasonable to conclude that the husband is the killer. But suppose that further investigation revealed that a concealed video camera had captured the murder.  It was not the husband, but a boyfriend who flew into a rage when the victim told him she was breaking off the affair.  While reason was leading to the identity of the logical suspect, it was not in fact the true killer.

As this example illustrates, one major problem with relying on reason alone is that it is only as good as the facts upon which it is based.  If we are lacking important pieces of the puzzle, or are mistaken about what we believe to be a fact, reason may lead us to logical, but wrong, conclusions.  Applied to ultimate things, a person’s sense of fairness may be flawed because, due to limited knowledge, he is missing pieces of the puzzle.  Having closed himself off from valid sources of knowledge - here, knowledge from a transcendent source - he has formed his conclusions on an inadequate view of “the evidence.” Additionally, his conclusions may be flawed due to bias, as for instance when a wrongdoer minimizes his offense in his own mind because in the circles he runs in, he actually appears good by comparison.

While truth and reason need not be at odds, the initial point here is that our search is, in the end, for what is true - not for what we currently think is reasonable.  This should be self evident, as we all have an intuitive sense that we can fool ourselves into thinking something is good, right, reasonable, when in truth it is not. 

In my next post, I’ll expand on how we need more than our intuitive sense of fairness to form a valid conclusion about what God may require of us.

Is God Unfair? (Part II)

Did the New Testament Authors Endorse Slavery?

PleaseConvinceMe Podcast 257

In this podcast, Jim answers a number of listener emails, comments and questions related to the Biblical perspective on slavery, the importance of exploiting one’s God given gifts, the need for emotional toughness in apologetics, the role of the Biblical eyewitnesses and the nature of circumstantial evidence.

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Did the New Testament Authors Endorse Slavery?

Is God Unfair?

That’s Unfair!  

How often have parents witnessed that charge hurled from the lips of the very youngest of children? It seems to be built into the basic programming of every human mind. As we get older, and perceive the unfairness that characterizes much of life, the charge shifts away from parents and others “in charge” and eventually is lodged against the absolute authority – God.  Every Christian case-maker has heard something like this:  “I won't believe in a God who would let such and such occur, or who doesn’t have either the love or the power to make the world a better place.”

A  skeptic friend put it this way: 

 “I know many really good people who don’t feel there is enough reason to believe in God. How is it fair that they have just “one shot” at salvation in this life?  Why don’t we get an infinite number of chances for salvation, say for instance through repeated reincarnation until a person finally ‘gets it?’ In other words, how can a loving God give only one chance when there are so many reasons why a person might resist what they are hearing?” 

Christians maintain that God is "fair." Embodying all attributes to perfection, he is, indeed, perfectly fair. But what is meant by overused terms such as "fair?"  We all recognize “unfairness” when we experience it, but what is it that we are saying when we say something isn’t fair? At a basic level, to say that a thing is "unfair" is to say that the demands of justice have not been met.  And justice roughly means attaching a right consequence to something. It means that our rights are being respected and that duties owed us are being fulfilled. When these things don’t happen, justice requires that some consequence attach, either to punish the transgressor or to restore the victim, or both. By contrast, a situation or act is “unfair” when something owed has not been given, or when something that was entitled to protection has been violated.  There are countless variations on this theme, but at its core, fairness and justice are concerned with encouraging, and enforcing, right relationship between people. After all, we don’t seek “justice” from the dog that bites us; that is what dogs do. But the owner who neglects to properly chain his dog can be held accountable for the harm he has caused.

As applied to the issue of salvation, accusing God of “unfairness” would mean, therefore, that he has failed to give us what we deserve or that he has violated some right that we have.  At the outset, this is a very odd claim to make.  Two possibilities exist for how we, as human beings, came to be here and be concerned about the question of salvation: either there is no God, in which case random, purposeless mutation explains how we evolved, or there is a God who created us, in which case we were made for a purpose.  If the former is true, then survival of the fittest is the rule.  The animal kingdom operates on this basis, and there would be no reason for us to object that everything ends when we die.  There would be, in short, no standard of right against which to measure conduct; might would make right and in the end there would be nothing.  “Fairness” loses all meaning in this alternative.

Assuming there is a God, it seems self-evident that He has created us and endowed us with consciousness.  Having created us, does it not follow that he possesses the power, and the authority, to define what rights he wants to give us, and what claims we can make upon him?  By way of analogy, imagine a human inventor who creates a series of robots and endows them with artificial intelligence.  Would it make sense for the robot assigned to the task of cleaning to object that this assignment is not fair because another robot has been assigned the task of cooking?  The very challenge of “unfairness” would require that we first define what we are and from what our rights are derived.   Since the robot’s existence derives entirely from his creator’s choice, absent some other source of rights, the robot would have none.  When’s the last time your car demanded a night off?  

As created beings, then, we cannot argue that God owes us anything that he does not first choose to give us. If he does not wish to allow us to spend eternity with him - except on his terms, however stringent they may appear to be - there is no further claim upon him that we can make.  But why then has God also endowed us with a sense of reason and of right and wrong? In the view of many people, giving everyone multiple chances for salvation, or perhaps simply granting every “good” person salvation, seems more reasonable than the Christian view of salvation.

       

This challenge, however, suffers from the same type of weakness.  Assuming there is a creator, then the sense of reason that we make use of is valid only to the extent that it conforms to his.  Using the robot analogy, the argument by the cleaning robot that it makes more sense for every robot to do every job, or that he should have every other day off, will be valid only if the inventor views this to be the case.  So, if there is a God, the claim that the Christian salvation doctrine is unreasonable is valid only to the extent that this view is God’s view as to who should spend eternity with him.

This leads to the unspoken question that is really at play: how we can know God’s views?  If my argument is valid, and I think it does stand to reason, then what matters (in the event there is a God) is figuring out how he views salvation, because in the end, only his view matters.  And while reason may assist us in determining whether God has spoken to us in some meaningful way, reason alone – that is, reason unaided by divine revelation – cannot get us the answer we seek.  Why?  Because what happens after we die is not accessible to us through our senses.  Consequently, if we are to obtain such knowledge, we must do so from a supernatural source.  The early Christian philosophers referred to this approach as “faith seeking understanding.”  Believing that the Bible was God’s word, they sought to make sense of its message using reason.   

Of course, we remain free to reject this supernatural information as false, but the underlying point remains: without some information from a transcendent source, reason has nothing to operate upon, and no way to get us to a correct answer about transcendent matters.

In my next post, I’ll explore this question of ultimate fairness a bit further.

Is God Unfair?

The Dangers of Spiritual Apathy

Apathy. That often smug assurance that "it" just doesn't matter. That vague sense of superiority that comes from a "whatever" worldview. Nothing really matters. No one can ever know for sure. So why bother? 

Every believer who has tried to make the case for Christianity has encountered this response.  It’s not that the skeptic is considering our truth claims and rejecting them, or countering them with evidence that they are false, or that his worldview is true. Instead, most skeptics I’ve dealt with have developed a comfort level regarding the “unknowability” of ultimate things. They often argue that the fact that people disagree about such things - that they have differing views - is itself evidence that no one can ever know whether God is, what He is about, or most importantly, what He may want of us. And so, they often don’t bother to try to investigate these things for themselves.

But if the Christian worldview is correct, such apathy may itself be hazardous to one's spiritual health. Not long ago, I tried to make this case in a conversation with a skeptic. It went something like this:

“Let's say this was 50 years ago, and when I saw you, you were chain smoking cigarettes with your kids always nearby. I know where medical science is headed, so I tell you that you are hurting yourself, and your kids. You respond that no one can really know such things; after all, you can point to doctors who advertise cigarettes and smoke them themselves, and you feel fine when you smoke. I point to other doctors who think that it’s really bad for you. You respond, ‘See, it's a tie, so stop bothering me. Each believes what they were raised to believe, or what they want to believe.”

“Do you see,” I asked, “that the conflict between the doctors should not lead you to conclude that neither is right, or that the answer is not knowable? As a friend, should I keep trying to bring you back to the truth about cigarettes, or should I let you persist in believing something that is, in the end, hurting you and your loved ones?”

My friend’s response was not unexpected. It went like this: “Have you ever noticed how so many things are bad/wrong only at certain points in a cycle? Eat eggs, don't eat eggs; give your kids soy, soy is bad; babies should sleep on their backs, no their stomachs, no their sides, no their backs etc., etc. When my daughter was born I would put her on her back to sleep and when I left the room my mother would put her on her side and when my mother left the room my grandmother would put her on her stomach. Over time the answer comes full circle. Why go around and around with it? What I am saying is not just throw up your hands and quit; what I am saying is that I do what feels right to me and that is the best I can do. Sometimes I listen to friends (and doctors) and sometimes I don't. I think the "answer" to many of these things is unknowable.”

Fair enough. Some things are unknowable, and for some things, it doesn’t really matter. But that of course is the point of being thoughtful: deciding which is which. So, I conceded that for some things, the right answer might be "it doesn't matter." For example, a child might be equally safe on her side or her back. Eggs or soy might be good for you or bad, depending on your health and how much you eat. But for other things - like smoking - it will never “come back around.” Science will never say that smoking is good. It might say that it won't necessarily kill you, but not that it will "balance your humours" like they said 200 years ago.

"So," I concluded, "the trick is, which is this? Are questions of eternal life like laying a child on her side, or like smoking with my kids in the room? I hope you see the answer matters. If you were smoking 10 hours a day with your kids present, you would be harming them. Getting the right answer on that would matter. Getting the right answer on your relationship with God also matters, both to you and to the people you influence."

I don't think I persuaded her. As with smoking, not everyone bothers to read the warning label.

The Dangers of Spiritual Apathy

How Can We Engage the Issue of Same Sex Marriage?

PleaseConvinceMe Podcast 256

In this podcast, Jim reads a 2008 opinion piece from David Blankenhorn and examines a number of potential strategies for engaging the issue of Same Sex Marriage from a Christian perspective. Jim also provides listeners with a strategy to evaluate competing explanations for past events (such as the Resurrection).

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How Can We Engage the Issue of Same Sex Marriage?

What Hypocrisy Really Tells Us

Christians are all hypocrites!

How often do apologists for the faith encounter that objection? Jim discussed it last week as he hosted the Stand to Reason radio broadcast, and his comments got me thinking about the subject.  He said a couple of things: that yes, there are hypocrites in the church, at least in the sense that none of us can actually and fully live up to what the Christian faith commands.  But more significantly, hypocrisy isn’t about simply failing to live up to the rules; it’s about being duplicitous about it. It’s about celebrating the things we shouldn’t do, about not properly regretting the sins that we commit.  What my reflections brought into focus was that this prevalence of hypocrisy – and the recognition that it is wrong - are actually more consistent with the existence of God than with atheism.

Hypocrisy is not a modern phenomenon. Jesus himself condemned it repeatedly in addressing the religious leaders of his day. They sought power and influence by using their elevated status to suppress and burden people. I would venture to say that every culture in the world, and throughout all periods of time, has recognized, and reviled, hypocrites.  The root of the word provides some explanation: the Greek word from which it derives meant a “stage actor,” a person who is not what he appears to be.  In modern usage, it carries of course a very negative connotation: “a person who pretends to have virtues, moral or religious beliefs, principles, etc., that he or she does not actually possess, especially a person whose actions belie stated beliefs” or “a person who feigns some desirable or publicly approved attitude, especially one whose private life, opinions, or statements belie his or her public statements.”

So, hypocrisy is not simply failing to live up to a set of expectations. As Jim pointed out, that is inherent in human nature. No, hypocrisy involves something more calculated: a desire to exploit this feigned persona in order to accomplish some other purpose. It is, at its core, deception.

           

If secular humanism is true, and man is simply an accidental product of evolution, then it stands to reason that those traits which provide the most survival potential would be favored. The basis of hypocrisy is not difficult to understand. Like any form of deception, it confers an advantage on the one who employs it. By promoting virtue, but secretly not bound by it, the hypocrite can - at least in the short run - profit by his behavior. Virtue, of course, involves self-discipline and often self-denial. It is the process of saying no to what I want at present because I recognize that simply wanting it is not a sufficient reason, that competing interests are at stake that must be considered.  But why must they be considered? If man is the measure of all things, and I am a man, why can I not decide that what is in my immediate best interest is what I should pursue?  Over time, shouldn’t it be the case that we would simply recognize that we all act in our own self interest? There is, therefore, nothing to revile about hypocrisy, just as we don’t condemn the lion for devouring its prey. It is simply in the “nature” of things.

But virtue persists, as does the recognition that it is a better way – a more noble way – in which to live.  Virtue manifests itself in acts of self-sacrifice, altruism and concern for others.  While these things tend to benefit a society, they confer little, if any, immediate reward to the one who does them. This, of course, is what makes such conduct virtuous, and worthy of our admiration and respect.  They are difficult to do.

Over time, then, the survival advantage hypocrisy provides should make hypocrisy a staple in society. And since it confers an advantage, it would be valued… and accepted as something that everyone does.  But that is not how we view it. Deep down, we know that such behavior is wrong, and worthy of condemnation.  It is wrong because it is inconsistent with truth and honesty, and the way things “ought” to be. And if we are impacted by a hypocrite, we feel it viscerally. It makes us angry.

To borrow from CS Lewis, when we consider hypocrisy, it is hard not to see that it appears to be a law of behavior.  It is not a descriptive law, as in the law of gravity, which describes how a rock will fall if released from a height. It is instead a moral law – a law that says we should not act that way, that acting that way is “wrong” on a very basic level.

But natural selection cannot explain moral laws.  It may explain the evolution of preferences and opinions, perhaps, but not laws that all cultures and all people seem to intuitively recognize.  But if there is a God, by contrast, it begins to make sense. Having left his law written into the fabric of our minds, we should expect to have some sense of right and wrong.  Because this eternal God grounds truth in a transcendental and unchanging way, it makes sense too that this love of virtue is itself timeless and without boundary.

So, the next time you encounter the challenge, it might be worth reminding the skeptic where the hypocrisy challenge actually leads.

What Hypocrisy Really Tells Us