a letter from an atheist

"You are really convinced that you've got all the answers. You've really got yourself tricked into believing that you're 100% right. Well, let me tell you just one thing. Do you consider yourself to be compassionate of other humans? If you're right, as you say you are, and you believe that, then how can you sleep at night? When you speak with me, you are speaking with someone who you believe is walking directly into eternal damnation, into an endless onslaught of horrendous pain which your 'loving' god created, yet you stand by and do nothing.

If you believed one bit that thousands every day were falling into an eternal and unchangeable fate, you should be running the streets mad with rage at their blindness. That's equivalent to standing on a street corner and watching every person that passes you walk blindly directly into the path of a bus and die, yet you stand idly by and do nothing. You're just twiddling your thumbs, happy in the knowledge that one day that 'walk' signal will shine your way across the road.

Think about it. Imagine the horrors Hell must have in store if the Bible is true. You're just going to allow that to happen and not care about saving anyone but yourself? If you're right then you're an uncaring, unemotional and purely selfish (expletive) that has no right to talk about subjects such as love and caring."

This quote is a portion of a letter from James Franz, a professing atheist, to an itinerant apologist named Ray Comfort.

Sure, James Franz is one of "them." Sure, he's a blasphemous God-hater. Sure, he's a deluded naturalist. Sure, his arguments against the existence of God are rooted in nothing but a deep-seated love for the lusts of this world. But you know what? He's absolutely right.

Aren't we Christians being too complacent to the terrible truth of Hell? How many people have each of us shared the Gospel to? What about that girl who sits beside you in your Psychology class? What about Manong Juan, that security guard who mans the information desk at your dorm? What about dear old Auntie Bik and Uncle 'Tog, and all your relatives who live back at your hometown?

Since we first believed, to how many of our unbelieving friends did we evangelize in the same way the Gospel was presented to us? Do we shine as His lights to this fallen world as we were commissioned to do?

I am afraid of answering these questions myself, because it shows how far I fall short of what He has commanded me. What about you, dear reader? May this letter stab us broad awake to the reality of God's wrath and man's hopeless depravity. May the great business of our lives be this: to be bold witnesses of the cross of Christ to those in darkness.

I pray that when we ask ourselves these questions again, a day, a month, even a year from now, we won't turn to Him red-faced with shame, and confess, "I buried Your talent in the ground. Here, what You have is Yours."