If you are a Christian, you already have what you need to give a reason for the hope within you. That reason, though, is not you.
When teaching Christian apologetics, I often encounter disbelief—not from unbelievers, but from believers who are skeptical of the apologetic enterprise. I always find this strange since the Scriptures commend it. In fact, they exhort us to always be prepared “to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15).
“To make a defense” is a translation of the Greek word apologia. It could also be rendered “to make an apology.” There’s a long history of Christian apologies that began when Justin Martyr (c. 100-165) addressed the false accusations that were being made of Christianity and added to his first and second Apology arguments for its truthfulness. A Christian apology, then, is not an admission of guilt but rather a reasoned argument for or persuasive explanation of the faith, and an apologist is one who “contends for the faith” (Jude 3).
Paul certainly was one. He reasoned with Jews in synagogues, argued before philosophers, made the gospel known throughout Rome’s imperial guard, and tried to convince governing authorities to become Christians. This wasn’t just Paul’s thing, though. As F.F. Bruce illustrated in The Defense of the Gospel in the New Testament, the earliest Christians, including the authors of the New Testament, were all interested in persuading Jews, Greeks, Romans, and others that Jesus was and “is the Christ, the son of God, and that by believing [they] would have life in his name” (John 20:31).
Apologetics, therefore, is integrally linked—or at least adjacent—to Christian witness and evangelism. It typically takes place outside the church among non-Christians—those who might be decidedly opposed to Christianity, indifferent to or indecisive about it, or assume it to be nothing more than a myth. Whatever the case, the apologist works where what may be convincing or reasonable to Christians does not pass muster. In such contexts, the apologist argues from evidence and ideas that unbelievers might find compelling (like Paul did when he quoted pagan authors to the philosophers in Athens in Acts 17).
Additionally, apologetics, like evangelism and Christian witness generally, is not just for clergy, theologians, or professors. It is for all Christians. Commenting on 1 Peter 3:15, Luther explained: “Here we…have to admit that St. Peter is addressing these words to all Christians, to priests, laymen and women, young and old, and in whatever station [or vocation] they are. Therefore, it follows from this that every Christian should account for his faith and be able to give a reason and an answer when necessary” (LW 30:105).
The apologist works where what may be convincing or reasonable to Christians does not pass muster.
That’s a tall (and perhaps intimidating) order. But here’s the good news. If you are a Christian, you already have what you need to give a reason for the hope within you. That reason, though, is not you. Neither is it your personal faith, as strong as it may be, and it’s certainly not the way you feel. It’s not even the comfort you experience when you hear the gospel.
These are all fine things, but they are not the reason you have hope. The reason is more objective than that. It’s extra nos—it’s outside our heads and our hearts. The reason Christians have hope is, to put it plainly and basically, that Jesus rose from the dead. All the comfort one might feel from hearing the good news or all the heart-felt faith you have and emotions you experience as a Christian would be ill-founded had he not risen.
Paul says as much in 1 Corinthians 15: “If Christ has not been raised…then your faith is in vain…your faith is futile, and you are still in your sins” (1 Cor. 15:14,17). And it would be hard to explain how Christianity, especially its confession that Jesus is Lord and God, survived or even got off the ground in the first place. According to the apostolic father Clement of Rome (c. 35-99), it was the resurrection that convinced the first Christians that Jesus was who he said he was and compelled them to tell everyone about it.
So, when it comes to Christian witness, we ought to remember that while our own experiences of joy, peace, and comfort may (and should) motivate us to proclaim to everyone the good news that we are forgiven and free on account of Christ alone, we would be remiss if when asked for the reason for our hope, we failed to give the objective reason. Paul even describes it as the “proof” of Christianity on Mars Hill (Acts 17:31, NASB). When he stood before Agrippa, Festus, and others and argued that Jesus fulfilled the messianic prophecies of the Old Testament in his suffering, death, and resurrection, he concluded, “I am speaking true and rational words. For the king knows about these things, and to him I speak boldly. For I am persuaded that none of these things has escaped his notice, for this has not been done in a corner” (Acts 26:25-26).
The resurrection happened in real time and in real space. It is the ground of Christianity’s truthfulness. And while a host of issues inevitably arise in apologetic contexts—from the historicity and reliability of the New Testament text to the possibility of miracles, the existence of God, and so on—pointing to it as the reason for hope is the basic starting point for any Christian apologetic.
It is also where the defense and declaration of the gospel converge, for while Jesus died for our sins, he was raised not just as a sign or proof of his divinity but “for our justification” (Rom. 4:25). This is the Good News. What happened in time and space—what are essentially brute facts of history—also accomplished the salvation of all those who would believe in the Lord Jesus Christ as their Savior.
