The Meaning of Life

Does Christianity add meaning to life?

I believe it does, or rather, it can. The prospects for meaning in life rise sharply if Christianity is true rather than atheism. Light becomes lighter. Dark becomes darker. Everything matters more.

What I am claiming

First, I am not arguing that, if atheism is true, life has no meaning. Some Christian philosophers argue this—such as William Lane Craig—but I am not addressing that issue here. I am only asking a comparative question: On which, atheism or Christianity, does life acquire more meaning?

Second, my comparison is limited. Obviously, there are other worldviews besides atheism and Christianity. But while these others merit consideration, we can’t do everything at once. Great houses rise one stone at a time.

Third, I am addressing the metaphysical question, Does the truth of Christianity make one’s life more meaningful? I am not addressing the psychological question, Does believing Christianity make one’s life feel more meaningful?

Fourth, I’m just assuming that meaning is partly objective; say, that laughing with old friends is objectively more meaningful than sitting around and chewing on sticks. If someone thought chewing on sticks to be the highest and noblest calling, he would be mistaken. There are matters of fact about meaning. We don’t just make it up. And there is a matter of fact about whether Christianity enhances meaning.

Finally, what about people in Hell? Are their lives more meaningful? Perhaps not. But I don’t say that Christianity makes everyone’s life automatically more meaningful, only potentially so. For, some of the ways Christianity enhances meaning depend on our becoming Christians. So the point is rather that Christianity gives us the resources for greater meaning. Still, this is not a trivial thesis. For these resources aren’t remote and inaccessible; everyone can lay claim simply by coming to faith. This isn’t water on the moon; it’s water in your back yard, and all you have to do is dig.

Just what are we digging for? What happens if Christianity is true?

#1. Good things become gifts

We speak of life as a gift, but we are often being metaphorical. For a gift is not just any good thing; it is a good thing given. Thus, if you are an atheist, it makes little sense to say that sunsets and ocean vistas and the flowers of spring are gifts. They are good, yes, as Housman understood, on realizing he had only fifty years remaining: And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow. The sense of life as precious, of cherry blossoms as things to be relished, of every spring as worthy of inventory, is surely fitting. But for a Christian these things are not only good; they are gifts. “This is the day that the Lord has made,” the Psalmist declares, “Let us rejoice and be glad in it” (118:24). And if every day is a gift, along with every good thing in it—coming down to us from the Father of Lights, James tells us—then this acts as a kind of universal value-enhancer. For, a good thing, happened across, is not nearly so valuable as a good thing given out of love for those who receive it. Winning the lottery is one thing; but imagine instead receiving—with no strings attached—the same amount of money from a wealthy benefactor, who loves you and desires your good. It seems to me great value is added here. What was a stroke of luck becomes a kindness. Accordingly, whatever the atheist thinks is valuable, the Christian should think more so. And more value spells more meaning. For the meaningfulness of a life partly depends on the value of what it contains.

#2. The stakes become higher

We can all agree it matters we do the right thing. But if God exists, then doing the right thing takes on new significance. For He is our greatest friend. To do wrong is to estrange the Person we need most; to do right is to embrace Him. And every choice between good and evil is a choice between dishonoring our Rightful King or laying our sword at his feet. Now, I’m not denying—not here, at least—that atheists can believe in good and evil. The point is rather that for Christians, value is enhanced in both directions. Every good we attain brings joy to God, and every evil committed offends Him. The stakes are cosmically high. All is in relief. This point cuts both directions, though. If Christianity is true, a life of unbridled wickedness is far worse than if atheism is true. So Christianity makes some lives less valuable. However, it also makes some lives far better, namely, those lives devoted to the good. And my claim, recall, is only that Christianity gives us resources for more meaningful lives. It’s up to us to lay hold of them. The acre is rich but the plough is waiting.

#3. Good things become endeavors

“Endeavor” comes from the Old French dever, or “duty.” To endeavor is to make it one’s duty, to enter into obligation. And that is just what ordinary good deeds become on Christianity—endeavors, commissioned by God. Granted, Christians are promised that God's Kingdom—a redeemed social order in which all wrongs are righted and all ruins made new—will come no matter what. God will see to that. However, Christians are also given a role ushering in His Kingdom. And so Christians have extra reasons to dedicate themselves to caring for orphans, freeing the slaves, feeding the hungry, beautifying our cities, and raising our children well. If atheism is true, these things may be worthwhile; if Christianity is true, they are holy missions. In doing them, we carry out a role that God has given us. We do not merely slay the dragon; we slay the dragon to save the empire, at the summons of the King.

#4. Life itself becomes sacred

How much would you pay for an old wooden desk? Okay, but imagine it belonged to your favorite author. There he sat to pen his masterpiece. Now how much would you pay? I presume the price has gone up—even though it is the same desk otherwise. By being associated with the great writer, the desk takes on new worth, worth bestowed. The thing can be seen in other cases. Imagine I had a machine that could duplicate Mona Lisa molecule by molecule, an exact replica. While I may be able to pass this off as a fake, surely no one who knew the truth would pay the $700 million the real Mona Lisa is valued at. Why? Because the real Mona Lisa was painted by Leonardo Davinci. Wrought at the hands of the great artist, the painting has bestowed worth. Christians believe the entire universe is like that, down to the last atom. The sea, the stars, the bum sitting across from you on the bus—these are works of the Great Artist, and for this reason, they have bestowed worth of an inestimable magnitude. They bear His signature. The atheist, I grant, can regard these things as valuable. But for the Christian they are sacred. They have been touched by God.

#5. Our little stories become cosmic narratives

Meaning is not just about doing lots of good things, a carnival of unrelated fun. The good things need to fit together. And the way they need fit together is as a story. We want our lives to be the right kind of narrative. To see this, imagine two lives with the same batch of good things, the same number of friendships and symphonies and starry nights. But the first life starts with a small amount of good, then grows over time, a rising arch. The second life starts with a huge amount of good, then dwindles, never to recover. Most of us prefer the first life. We do not want our best days behind us. We prefer, that is, a story of growth and development. Meaning, then, has two parts. First, we have to do valuable things. Second, the valuable things have to fit together in the right kind of narrative. So far, I’ve argued Christianity enhances the first part of meaning, by making things more valuable. But Christianity also enhances the second, by giving us a grand narrative into which the good things of our lives—indeed, our very lives—can be embedded. The narrative is this. Once upon a time, God made the world, and made man to live in it, to walk with Him in the cool of the evening. But man betrayed God and threw the world into ruin. And the whole story of Israel is the story of God seeking man, seeking him through messengers and miracles. And the story of Christ is the story of God dispensing with messengers and showing up Himself. And because of Christ, we can walk with God again in perfect intimacy, though we find this now only in vanishing glimpses. For the world is crumbling, and we are crumbling with it. And the shadow of death is heavy upon us. But Christ will one day right the wrongs. He will restore the ruins. And the dead who have known God shall rise and enjoy Him forever, a city of saints, paradise regained. If Christianity is true, that is the story of the whole world. And that can be our own story. For when we become Christians, we join our little tales to this great epic of redemption. And it has a far better ending than we get on atheism. On that story, as Bertrand Russell reminds us, “the whole temple of Man’s achievement must inevitably be buried beneath the débris of a universe in ruins.” It is precisely the ending worried over by Tennyson, whom I cannot resist quoting at length. “And he, shall he,” asks the great Victorian, Man, her last work, who seem'd so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law— Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shriek'd against his creed— Who loved, who suffer'd countless ills, Who battled for the True, the Just, Be blown about the desert dust, Or seal'd within the iron hills? But this, this unbearable waste and blankness, is not the ending we get on Christianity. On that ending, death doesn’t win. The Artist recalls His materials. And every stray atom is gathered from the desert dust, and the dust itself is gathered, and the iron hills give up their dead at the call of their Maker.

Summing up

I have lain out five ways in which Christianity adds meaning to life. But this does not by itself show that Christianity makes life more meaningful overall. For maybe there are ways atheism adds meaning. And maybe there are ways Christianity subtracts it. To get an overall calculus, we need to set all stones on the balance. Still, it is difficult to imagine what atheism could add that would outweigh the things discussed here. And as for Christianity subtracting meaning, the main way that would happen is Hell. Perhaps those in Hell would be better off if Christianity were false. No doubt, we could have an interesting discussion about that. But the point is quite irrelevant at present. Remember, my claim is only that Christianity makes life potentially more meaningful—more meaningful, that is, for those who become Christians. And what is the purpose of arguing this? After all, it wouldn’t mean Christianity is true. Christmas would be more meaningful if Santa were coming, but that doesn’t mean he is. I grant this point entirely. In this essay, I have not given us reasons to believe Christianity is true. I have given us reasons to hope that it is. But faith is more than belief; faith includes our hopes, our loves, our yearnings. And to address whether Christian faith is rational, then, we must address whether the yearnings native to it are rational as well. And if Christianity makes life (potentially) more meaningful, this would be a powerful reason to yearn for its truth.