Café

The Hardest Sermons You’ll Ever Have To Preach
Reviewed by Hans Kristensen
Little Black Books: Science and God
Reviewed by Andrew Laird
Making the Most of the Cross
Reviewed by Lesley Hicks
Higher Ground
Reviewed by Andrew Laird

Peter Singer and John Lennox debate - a view from the Melbourne Town hall

11:50pm Wednesday, 20th July 2011

Sophie Gyles

I don't know about you, but I've always been agnostic about inter-faith debates. I could be convinced of their merit, but the sense that no one is persuaded by reason alone, has left me doubtful.
One friend remarked to me debates are the Christian equivalent of rock concerts. Another said they're all about the atmosphere, like going to the footy.
As I entered the Melbourne Town Hall I have to admit to feeling a buzz of excitement when I saw Oxford Professor John Lennox and bioethicist Peter Singer adjusting their lecterns. Yet I asked myself, “Is that all I'm here for, to eye-witness an intellectual celebrity fighting match?”
Moreover, debates organised by Christians seem to be attended largely by Christians, and both sides just become entrenched in their positions. To quote John Dickson from an article published in the Sydney Morning Herald recently, “counter-evidence, far from changing our views, actually strengthens them.”
Sophie Gyles

As I sat down, I wondered, “Is this place just full of Christians?”. Within minutes my question was answered.
“...get into the real world and then talk to me about God”. My ears pricked up. The words were coming from the mouth of the guy sitting next to me. He was talking to a friend about the mate who'd invited him, who was sitting rows behind us and completely oblivious to the attack. It turns out the pair work as croupiers at a Victorian casino. His mate's a Christian, while my row-fellow proudly announced he was a freemason (not a set of data I regularly come across).
It seemed he was here with at least a desire to talk, so with 10 minutes until the debate, I took the opportunity to ask him about the masons and their belief in chivalry, a code of morality loosely based on Christian ethics. We exchanged ideas about whether belief in God pre-supposed morality (he didn't think so), and whether you get to heaven by grace or works, before we were cut off by the real debate.
The real debate didn't disappoint. As if he'd read our thoughts, Professor Lennox soon asked Singer how he can believe in an objective, universal code of morality without believing in God. Singer reasoned it's the same way he can believe in an objective, universal mathematical code without believing in God.
Singer's big question was about God's apparent unconcern for the suffering, to which Lennox replied graciously he didn't have a neat answer, but rather than being distant from human suffering, God entered into it on the cross.
The men argued reasonably and politely, with only the odd joke at each other's expense. The wiry, bespectacled Singer, in his trademark black turtle neck jumper appeared largely nonchalant about the outcome of the debate, and simply happy for some intellectual fodder. He was polite without being patronising and didn't canvass any of his more controversial views.
Meanwhile the grandfatherly Lennox's answers were measured, yet passionate. It was clear this was not an intellectual game for him. Rather this was a man speaking from a deep faith in a God powerful enough to change even Singer's heart.
There were no declared winners, as the debate had a friendly format of statement and rebuttal. But it didn't matter. My row-fellow, the free mason croupier, couldn't contain his smile. He wanted to come again, like a young Athenian standing in the Areopagus in Ancient Greece listening to Paul, saying, “We want to hear you again on this subject.” And I thought maybe, just maybe, debates are worth the fuss.

Eternity will post a report by David Wilson on the details of the debate