What does it mean to be human?
This is one of the hardest questions to answer in our culture. Artificial intelligence forces us to reevaluate established definitions of personality and consciousness. Evolutionary biology undermines traditional views of human purpose and uniqueness. Gender theory disconnects the body and mind, anchoring our personal identity in feelings. Each approach has a common aim but a different, unhelpful answer that tends to diminish the dignity and wonder of humanity.
In Humanity Matters: Re-Enchanting Homo Sapiens, Andrew Fellows, minister of St Thomas’s Church in Cambridge, addresses an anthropological crisis gripping our culture. We no longer have a “theology and metaphysics that gives the deeper explanation of our existence” (8). Fellows seeks to recapture our wonder and awe—what he calls “re-enchantment”—through a Christian humanist approach.
Fellows begins with basic, biblical concepts, like the fact that humanity exists as a complex and marvelous creation with a God-given purpose, and made in the image of God. He also draws on “sources beyond the Bible to undergird and enrich [his] anthropology,” which he argues allows it to become “a blessing to the world” (143). The result is an encouraging and helpful work, but one that points toward civilizational renewal as a more prominent goal than is warranted.
Redeeming Humanism
Humanism portrays human nature as inherently good. Fellows rightly disagrees with this premise, noting that “humans possess a unique capacity for evil” (108). Yet he admires humanism’s high view of humanity, which moves us into wonder about our design and purpose. He’s right that “the long history of humanism has been shaped by a Christian anthropology.” He’s also correct that “at some point, humanism chose to abandon this foundation” (5). He sees humanism as redeemable if its foundations in Christian ideas can be restored.
Yet trying to restore humanism is a questionable endeavor. In 1943, William Temple, then archbishop of Canterbury, lamented that the “Christian tradition . . . was in danger of being undermined by a ‘Secular Humanism’ which hoped to retain Christian values without the Christian faith.” Nearly a century later, we can see that humanists have maintained neither the faith nor the values of Christianity.
Historically, humanism’s view of humanity was damaged in the aftermath of the Second World War: the discovery of concentration camps and the destruction caused by the atomic bomb. Philosophically, the adoption of materialistic understandings of the created order led to the widespread assumption that “if the world lacked purpose and meaning, then so did human life” (7). Thus, humanity became disenchanted.
Those factors help explain how we got to where we are as a culture, with a growing longing for a return of transcendent meaning and purpose. Fellows rightly notes that “this deepest of longings within us is an indication that we were created for God” (83). That longing can only be fulfilled by a relationship with our Creator through Christ. Restoring Christian foundations to humanism seems like an indirect route to reshaping culture around a robustly biblical anthropology that recognizes the desperate need for personal, spiritual renewal through the gospel.
Understanding Death
No matter how the culture arrives at a more biblical anthropology, one clear benefit is the recognition that death looms around the corner for each of us. Death’s inevitability shapes the way both Christians and non-Christians live.
When believers recognize death’s nearness, we’re encouraged toward obedience and joy in Christ. As Fellows argues, “Our efforts to ignore death inadvertently hold us back from fully embracing life” (99). Instead, awareness of the numbering of our days motivates Christians to live their lives to the fullest by fulfilling the Great Commission, serving the church, and bringing glory to God in all their spheres of influence. In a world of anxiety and depression about the unknown, knowing the God who conquered death causes us to embrace life without fear of death.
When believers recognize death’s nearness, we’re encouraged toward obedience and joy in Christ.
Humanists often can’t escape concern about death. “Even today in the age of naturalism,” Fellows observes, “we see a growing interest in life after death, particularly in [the cultural] fascination with near-death experiences” (102). Every culture has some theory about the afterlife, and the most secular parts of modern Western culture are no exception.
Shared interest in what comes after death offers an important touchpoint between Christians and the surrounding culture. We can show them through Scripture how death’s sting has been removed through a cross and the empty tomb. We can connect them to Christ’s promise of eternity, which satisfies our deepest cravings for a life after death. The shared experience of a ticking of life’s clock can be a bridge to reintroducing biblical anthropology to our culture.
Improving Anthropology
Though I’m critical of Fellows’s goal of reinvigorating Christian humanism, I share his interest in reviving a more biblical perspective on humanity. Every other anthropological system fails to deal with the problem of evil—particularly personal sin—effectively. Some versions blame “external factors” for an individual’s sin (111). Other approaches blame “misfirings in our biology” (113). Only a biblical anthropology rightly explains why sin infects us all from birth.
The shared experience of a ticking of life’s clock can be a bridge to reintroducing biblical anthropology to our culture.
The failures of alternative anthropologies result in inadequate responses to sin. Some versions propose eugenics or transhumanism as the answer to flawed humanity. Others prescribe retreat into the digital sphere, which Fellows recognizes as “as soul-sucking dystopia disguised as a utopia” (133). In contrast, Christianity teaches us that “Jesus has provided what is necessary for us to live eternally, and fully in our humanity, enjoying God, a renewed creation and a perfected humanity” (139). Salvation has been accomplished on our behalf.
The gospel, which both requires and provides a better anthropology, offers a more satisfying answer to the fundamental question, What does it mean to be human? In Jesus Christ, God took on human flesh and came to resolve the problems of evil, sin, and death. His perfect life, substitutionary death, and subsequent resurrection show us what humanity was meant to be and give us the hope that we can become so one day.
Fellows ends with optimism that “the revival of a genuine Christian humanism may well serve as a catalyst for rejuvenating our faltering civilisation” (147). It’s a noble desire, yet the hope for civilization isn’t in the renewal of anthropology but in the remaking of humans through salvation. Though Fellows puts the cart before the horse by making a renewed civilization a primary goal, Humanity Matters offers an encouraging emphasis on recovering a robust biblical anthropology.
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