The Death of Someone Who Cared

In 1998, I spent a month in Bologna, Italy with Agape Europe, a Christian student group. When I shared this with an Italian friend a few months ago, she was surprised. The University of Bologna, she told me, had a reputation as a Communist stronghold and many there were decidedly anti-Christian. At the time, I was naive about the reputation and no one reacted to our message with hostility. But if I had known, it would not have discouraged me - quite the opposite, actually. Not because I enjoy antagonism - I'm the type of sensitive soul who wants everyone to play nice. But some things are important, and I'd rather discuss important matters with someone who passionately disagrees with me than with someone who just doesn't care.

Perhaps that's one reason why Christopher Hitchens' columns in Slate and Vanity Fair were appointment reading for me (the other two reasons are both his informed opinions on pretty much everything and the quality of his prose, agree or disagree), and it's why I join everyone who marks his death with sadness. It seems like every scribbler in the business has written an obituary of sorts (many of them are quite moving), but Michael Gerson of the Washington Post best expresses my thoughts as a believer:

(Hitchens) recognized that there is one argument worth having about religion: Is it true or false? The rest is sociology. Hitchens thought religion to be false and dangerous, but not trivial. This may help to explain the affinity of many believers for the world’s most articulate unbeliever. Hitchens took the largest questions seriously.

I find having a strong antithesis to my own views energizing. They force me to examine and explain, not in the face of a tract or a political advertisement, much less in the face of emotional pressure, but in the face of an intelligent person who has purposefully and thoughtfully rejected my worldview (I've even used this space to exercise a response to one of Hitchens' essays). And if we really believe in truth, in Ultimate Truth, then we have nothing to fear from this. The truth is our friend, my father likes to say. This isn't to say the world of apologetics isn't dangerous. It has teeth, and it's best to go in well-armed and well-education, in community and  in prayer. But if apologetics is dangerous, apathy is deadly. If Hitchens' polemics has caused more people to consider Ultimate Reality, then for that, we can raise our hats in appreciation.