Have you ever had a conversation about Jesus and quickly realized that the other person knew almost nothing about him despite thinking they knew it all?

I have to confess, I was once that guy.

Growing up in a non-Christian household meant I didn’t think about God much. My routine consisted of waking up, going to school, spending time with friends, having supper, and going to bed.

If you had asked me back then what I thought God was doing in my life, I would have said he probably didn’t exist. Even if he did, my life was too plain and boring for him to care about it. There were missionaries in the Congo, megachurch pastors, and super-smart Christian scholars that God was focusing on—he didn’t have time for me.

I knew just enough about who I thought Jesus was to assume he was either a fraud who made up his miracles or someone way too important to ever think about me.

In Darkness

Later in my life, I developed depression. Simply brushing aside the need for a well-thought-out worldview was not enough. I needed something more—something deeper, something true.

This led me to become heavily involved in the Esoteric and the New Age religious movement—a spiritual movement defined by a “you do you” and “whatever makes you feel good” mentality. It takes a hodgepodge of random beliefs from various religions and combines them, regardless of whether they make intellectual sense.

In a way, I began to worship myself, and I thought I was pretty smart for figuring out the whole religion thing by myself. (I became a living example of Rom. 1:22-23.)

During this time, I studied what the so-called New Age religious experts had to say about Jesus. What they taught was a corrupted version of who Jesus was and what he taught—a counterfeit Christianity that promised wisdom and peace but failed to deliver. Ironically, this new religion of mine made me yearn for a deeper truth in my life. Its teachings seemed hollow, nonsensical, and empty (Col. 2:8)

Finding the Light

It was then that I encountered Christian apologetics. I came across the online teachings of the likes of William Lane Craig and Frank Turek and started to learn about a Jesus I never knew—a Jesus who made sense. These Christian apologists presented a Christian worldview that could be explained and defended with intellectual soundness and honesty.

It wasn’t long before I dedicated my life to Jesus, got involved in camp ministry, and spent my spare time understanding this wonderful, life-giving faith I had found in Jesus. And for the first time in my life, I could explain why I believed what I believed.

As a Christian, I could now give a reasoned defence for the hope that was in me (1 Peter 3:15). I realized that when I previously believed in a false Jesus, I couldn’t articulate why I held such convictions about who he was. I had blind faith in a god that wasn’t real. I leaned on my own understanding to give purpose to my life.

Apologetics was central to my conversion. It explained the case for Christianity from an intellectually defensible position. It answered objections I had about the faith. And it challenged me to defend my own beliefs in light of the facts presented by the Christian worldview.

Authentic Christianity

Not long after becoming a Christian, I began attending Crandall University in Moncton, New Brunswick, where I was introduced to the Ratio Christi chapter on campus. It was in this environment that my Christian worldview was properly formed into a logical and defensible belief system, with fellow students challenging and encouraging me in my faith.

For all my life prior to my conversion, I had assumed believing in Jesus was an act of blind faith. Believing in Christianity seemed to me to be an exercise in holding onto ideas because someone in a church told you it was true, and you had to take them at their word to maintain your “Christian membership.”

Now, with Ratio Christi, I had a space to work through why I believed what I believed. I realized that there were many sound reasons for why I could put my faith in Jesus. I was encouraged to think critically about the beliefs I held about God and to examine them to see if they were, in fact, true. I began to see which views I held were true, which ones were close to half-truths, and which ones were baseless lies I believed about faith in Jesus.

Ratio Christi’s discussion model, wherein fellow students would engage with questions about the topics to the Chapter Director and to each other, was crucial in the formation of my Christian worldview. I could no longer hold onto a belief, true or not true, and go through life with no one questioning how I came to hold to my beliefs.

In the Ratio Christi club meetings, my fellow students—and the Chapter Director!—would always ask me to give answers for why I believed what I believed. How did I come to a particular conclusion on such and such a topic? Did I have a reason for why I held onto a certain viewpoint? I was continuously challenged to work through a Christian worldview that could be held up under scrutiny—a worldview focused on Jesus while also welcoming curious inquiry and scrutiny, unafraid of even the toughest questions.

For the first time in my life, I felt settled in an authentic worldview about God and how the world works. And I wanted to share about the hope that was in me (1 Pet. 3:15).

From Disciple to Disciple-Maker

Today, I serve with Ratio Christi Canada as a Chapter Director. I’m excited and honored to have the opportunity to share with students the same transformative experience through Christian apologetics that shaped me.

The journey from confusion to clarity, from questioning to conviction, is one that I’m passionate about guiding others through (cf. Titus 1:9). There are still many other people out there who hold to a counterfeit Christianity. We must be willing to engage with those who don’t know any better to help them see the light of the truth about Jesus Christ, speaking with grace and wisdom (Col. 4:6).

Even those who are desperately lost like I was can still be found (Luke 15:32).