God Is Good for You: A Defence of Christianity in Troubled Times
by Greg Sheridan.
Allen & Unwin, 2018.
Paperback, 358 pages, $20.
Reviewed by Karl Schmude
Greg Sheridan is one of Australia’s leading journalists and media commentators. As the long-time Foreign Editor of The Australian newspaper, he has a well-founded reputation for knowledgeable reporting and incisive criticism.
God Is Good for You is in some ways an unexpected work, for it traverses different ground from his other six books—such as Asian Values, Western Dreams (1999), which studied the cultural relationship between Asia and the West, and The Partnership (2006), which told the inside story of the U.S.–Australian alliance in the era of 9/11.
Yet the subject matter of his latest book—the nature and impact of Christian belief in present-day Australia and more broadly all Western societies—will not surprise readers of his previous book, When We Were Young and Foolish (2015). There he revealed his religious background, shaped by a staunchly Irish-Catholic upbringing in suburban Sydney in the 1960s and 1970s. But Sheridan is more than a cultural Catholic. He believes; and he is deeply conscious of the springs of conviction that lie beneath a higher faith. His family life and university experience gave him a grounding in history and politics, which steered him into journalism.
God Is Good for You is distinctive in two ways—first, that the author is undauntedly hopeful about Christianity at a time when Western culture is increasingly disenchanted and hostile; and secondly, that he reaches out in sympathy to the widest shores of religious tradition and devotion—Jewish as well as Christian, Evangelical Protestant as well as Catholic—while also wrestling with the new manifestations of unbelief, both passive and militant. His working principle is that what believers hold in common is infinitely more important than what divides them, and that to transcend differences may be more feasible than trying to resolve them.
The book is organized into two sections—the first, comprising five chapters, focuses on Christian belief and history; the second, of seven chapters, on the spiritual lives and initiatives of present-day Christians. This is a wise priority of arrangement. It makes clear that Christianity is, first and foremost, a supernatural faith based on a divine revelation. It finds expression in a set of truth-claims that give rise to moral imperatives which Christians—and non-Christians—have exemplified in their lives, or else abandoned and defied.
The author begins with a fundamental question: whether God is dead, at least in the West, compared with the rest of a world that still remains deeply religious. He examines how rapidly Australia is becoming a majority-atheist nation—where Christ has been abandoned to thirst in the Outback—and how forcefully elite opinion—in educational and cultural institutions and the public media—has turned against Christianity. The loss of religious faith, he believes, will change Australia and other Western societies in ways we can hardly imagine, in particular threatening our sense of a common humanity in the midst of all our differences. His argument echoes the claim of Jean Daniélou, in his Prayer as a Political Problem (1967), that “there can be no civilisation unless adoration finds a place in it,” for a culture without God is not fit for human beings and will finally become inhuman.
Various factors have fed into this process of decline, such as the fragmentation of the family and the technological advances that imply science can explain all of reality, not just processes of design and development, but also objects of ultimate meaning and purpose; that it can answer the “why” questions about life, not just the “how” questions. Sheridan connects the crisis of faith with a crisis of knowledge. Those rejecting Christianity have learned very little about it—the content of its doctrines, its historical trials and attainments, its cultural contributions—and, in today’s schools and universities, can readily form negative opinions that a hostile culture soon hardens into prejudices, making belief in God unappealing, if not untenable.
The author reserves special criticism for the New Atheists, such as Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens. While this is the only part of the book in which he displays a certain combativeness—he is, as he admits, “a spiritual Irishman”—he is persuasive in showing that the New Atheists are far more a cultural phenomenon than an intellectual force. Their arguments are commonly shallow and incomplete, and their criticisms tend to rely on special pleading, citing evidence selectively as though it were typical. But their fundamental problem is their unwillingness to confront the consequences of their own disbelief in God. They do not deal with the challenges posed by atheism, especially for Western culture—namely, what sources of individual hope and social inspiration and cohesion are available to a people once the roots of transcendental purpose and accountability have been allowed to wither? Have we, in the early twenty-first century, now drawn down most of the Christian capital of our past? Are we, as Sheridan quotes the French philosopher Ernest Renan, living on the perfume of an empty vase?
No doubt theism and Christian belief present their own challenges to the human mind and heart, such as the suffering of the innocent and the apparent absurdity of death. One of the most impressive chapters of the book is Sheridan’s ruminations on the Old Testament, notably the Book of Ruth and the Book of Job. Here his journalistic affinity with the ordinary reader is most in evidence. He recognizes the power of a story to convey truths, and the extent to which the Bible resembles journalism in presenting specific characters with specific names. Citing the Book of Ruth as working “first of all as a short story,” he notes that the authors of the Bible “understood two of the great journalistic injunctions—humanise the story, and get the names right.” Thus these ancient Jewish works serve as inspiring literature for our culture, not in the sense of conjuring up something unreal, but in summoning all our powers, imaginative and rational, to come to grips with ultimate reality—to see what is actually there. For the Christian, as Sheridan argues, suffering builds on the experience of Job in the Old Testament to be fulfilled in the mission of Christ in the New. Christ resolved the problem of suffering by sharing it, a profoundly human act, and then converting it into an instrument of self-sacrificing love of eternal import.
And yet, while the bearing of suffering for the sake of others is central to the Christian experience, there has also been the imposition of suffering by Christians. Scandals, such as the horrendous incidence of clerical sexual abuse, test our capacity for hypocrisy. Sheridan devotes a chapter to the sins of Christians, which he deals with candidly. He points out the distressing truth that the problem of sexual abuse in the church, and among human beings in general, is perennial—abhorred by Christian writers throughout the ages, such as St. Basil in the fourth century and St. Peter Damian in the eleventh. But he points out a new and disturbing tendency as we try to confront this and many other evils, and that is medicalizing sins into illnesses, and thereby obscuring the role of moral choice and responsibility.
At a time when Christianity is pictured so negatively, Sheridan offers important reminders of its comprehensive legacy to Western culture. He highlights the political significance of the idea of the individual and a belief in universal human dignity that emanates from the Christian ennoblement of human life—of every person seen as sacred on account of their carrying the image of their Creator. This exalted understanding has supplied the intellectual and spiritual basis of human rights in the West, now so readily taken for granted. It has secured the fundamental distinctions we draw in our culture, such as between church and state (captured in the revolutionary injunction, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s”) or between governmental power and the conscience of the ordinary citizen. Sheridan draws on the historical insights of the Oxford scholar Larry Siedentop—notably in his Inventing the Individual: The Origins of Western Liberalism (2014)—to stress the crucial role of Christianity, both as a religious faith and a cultural dynamic, in the creation of modern Western politics. He rightly laments that this realization has now virtually been erased from the consciousness of the West, even among the most historically literate of our citizens.
What of the future of Christianity in Australia and the West in general? The second part of God Is Good for You looks at various individuals and movements that represent a picture of promise. In one chapter, “Ordinary Extraordinary Christian,” the author relates the story of Rod McArdle, a Melbourne-based Anglican vicar who, with his wife Sheryl (who subsequently died of cancer), raised a severely disabled son. Sheridan’s account is moving, but it avoids sentimentality by being resolutely realistic. He shows how McArdle’s experience of Christian faith, sustained by his belief in Christ’s resurrection, brought higher meaning and inspiration to his life; and further, made a deep impression on many other lives. As the English writer Arnold Lunn once noted, sublime goodness—or, in Christian terms, holiness—is a force as real as electricity; and like electricity it can be recognised by vivid results in our ordinary material lives.
The most publicized portion of God Is Good for You is two chapters devoted to Australian political figures, both current and retired. Sheridan interviewed fourteen politicians across the political spectrum—in particular, leaders in the Liberal Party and the Australian Labor Party (roughly equivalent to the Republicans and the Democrats respectively in America). The most recognizably international figures are former Prime Ministers, such as John Howard, Kevin Rudd, and Tony Abbott (Howard was in Washington DC visiting President George W. Bush at the time of 9/11), and Kevin Beazley, who served for six years as Australian Ambassador to the United States. The interviews are of singular interest not because they are overly revealing but because they took place at all. In a deeply secularist culture like Australia, politicians have much to lose, and little to gain, by talking openly about their Christian faith. American-born Australian Senator Kristina Keneally pointed out to Sheridan a paradoxical difference with American public life. Australian politicians are much more likely to have a religious involvement than the average Australian, but the mass media which report on politics are much less likely to be religious. It is a testament to Sheridan’s reputation as a trusted journalist that he was able to persuade such public figures to discuss their inner life, and be confident that it would be faithfully represented in print.
Apart from the individual stories, Sheridan reports on a number of new Christian movements in present-day Australia—from the seclusion of monastic life in rural parts of the States of Tasmania and Victoria to the lively Christian worship of Melbourne’s largest Pentecostal church, the Planetshakers; from the Catholic women’s organisation, Focolare, founded in World War II to resurrect the spiritual and social life of a devastated Europe—and now active in over 180 nations—to the offering of a Catholic, classically based education at Campion College in Sydney. He picks out the qualities of each movement that offer wider promise for a revitalization of religious faith. He commends Planetshakers, for example, for their inventive use of social media and the ways in which they integrate fresh music into their worship; and Campion College for finding a way to pass on the tradition of Christian learning and culture to a new generation.
The movements are diverse, but Sheridan discerns common elements of religious leadership that enable them to convey their message and attract followers. One is an intensity of conviction; a second is boldness in communicating their core beliefs; and a third is the building of a cultural milieu that is coherent and brings together such qualities as intelligibility, sympathy, and beauty. These marks of leadership will be even more decisive in the future as the cultural decline of Christianity likely deepens in the West.
In his final chapter Sheridan makes a number of practical recommendations to Christian leaders. His advice is that Christians accept the reality that they have now become a minority—certainly in Australia and the UK, with a similar trend gathering pace even in America. But this should not mean being timid and anxious to avoid controversy. On the contrary: “Being a self-recognizing and self-declaring vigorous, bold, self-confident minority will actually be a liberating experience for Christians.” It will strengthen, he argues, their psychological security and tactical flexibility. He offers various concrete suggestions, especially making a more active and imaginative use of the media. Like any experienced journalist, he emphasizes the need for Christian leaders to respond to breaking stories within, not after, the news cycle.
Is Sheridan overly optimistic that Christianity can recover and inject new purpose and energy into Western society? His book has enjoyed impressive sales and media exposure in Australia, and it has had the notable effect of authorizing, for the first time in many years, a positive discussion of Christianity in the public square. It is hard to avoid the conclusion that Sheridan’s reason for writing the book reflects the hope of the Christian gospel—a hope that is distinctly different from optimism. G. K. Chesterton thought this was an irresistible reason for believing in Christianity—that over two thousand years it had died many times and risen again, for it had a God who knew the way out of the grave.
Karl Schmude is a co-founder of Australia’s only liberal arts college, Campion College in Sydney, and formerly University Librarian at the University of New England in Armidale NSW Australia.
