After all is said and done, remarked C. S. Lewis, a very perceptive observer of the human scene, there are only two world-views competing for the souls of men: the Christian and the Indo-Aryan (represented by Hinduism and Buddhism and their derivatives).

To get to the core of the matter, let us examine a key verse from the scriptures of each of these two religious systems. The Christian finds that his New Testament faith binds him inextricably and finally to the authoritative declaration of Jesus, “I am the way, the truth, and the life; no man cometh unto the Father, but by me” (John 14:6).

The Hindu takes his stand on what is to him an equally authoritative scripture, the words of Krishna to his beloved disciple in the discourse known as the Gita: “In whatsoever way men approach me, even so do I receive them, for even the paths men take from every side are mine” (Gita IV, 11).

No comment is needed on the antithesis that these two doctrines set up. The knowing Hindu is firm in the conviction that the words of Sri Krishna are more consistent with faith in a merciful, compassionate, divine Author of all than is the Christian doctrine. The reason often given is that a loving God will surely receive a man sincerely seeking him in some remote region, such as Tibet, where the Gospel of Jesus Christ may never reach him at all. This view, of course, makes Christian evangelism indefensible. A typical Hindu attitude was expressed by a recent Indian expositor, Krishnalal Shridharani:

The very notion [of missionary evangelism] implies a superiority complex as well as an impulse of self-righteousness. Now that might be tolerable in other fields, but when it is brought into the realm of religion and the spirit, it looks very strange to the Hindu. To the Hindu philosophers, nothing is more irreligious than a holier-than-thou attitude—an attitude which of necessity provides the driving force of evangelism [My India, My America, Duell, Sloan and Pierce, p. 339].

One way to God or many ways? This is, of course, a vitally important question for the Christian. There are about 500 million Hindus around, plus many members of other religions, who believe in universalism, and the Christian sees these millions of people as souls moving precariously close to the edge of the abyss. Universalism is a direct rejection of the finality of Christ.

Why is Christ the only way? I have been much involved with this question in recent months, through discussion with both hostile and friendly critics. (I left Hinduism and became a Christian only a few years ago.) Experience has shown me that intellectual argument alone, no matter how brilliantly framed and logically sound, cannot win against the powerful combination of an unrepentant heart and a sinful nature.

Article continues below

We must concede that the Hindu’s position has a measure of plausibility and appeal. It appeals to the secular mind of our nuclear, technological age, to the belief in human self-sufficiency with its allied doctrine of man, which lulls the mind into a sort of euphoria by proclaiming human perfectibility. Man is doubtless very prone to error, declares this concept of man; he has, indeed, blood-stained hands. Does not all history testify to this? But take heart, O man, be of good cheer, for man is perfectible; the history that testifies to his proneness to dark deeds also testifies to his advances, to his slow and painful movement toward light.

The Achilles’ heel of this position is its avoidance of the whole fact of sin. This is an area where one has to tread cautiously and very prayerfully, praying that the Spirit will move in hearts long hardened and smug concerning their own condition and slowly open eyes that have lost the power to see. One could invite the opposition to consider the perfectibility doctrine against the background of man’s history and to attempt to evaluate honestly whether deep in his heart man has indeed changed qualitatively in any way commensurate with his intellectual advances.

When we speak of sin, it is vital to make it clear that we mean the basic position of separation from God, that attitude in which man prefers the claim of his separate self, above all other claims, including the paramount claim of the honor and glory of God. The Hindu would agree that imprisonment of the individual within the narrow iron cage of his selfhood is the primary cause of all the harassments and evils that attend the human condition, at the individual and the national levels. In whatever degree, all mankind is guilty on this charge; for the whole range of qualities to which we give such names as self-sensitivity, touchiness, reserve, fretting, worry, self-seeking, self-indulgence, self-defense, and self-justification arise and testify against us. Gentle pressure at this point is a priceless tool, but we need to take great care to avoid any drastic condemnations, and also to explain clearly what we mean when we speak of unregenerate man as a sinner.

However, by far the most efficacious method of dealing with this delicate subject was given by our Lord himself. My own experience confirms that for pouring oil on troubled waters nothing can surpass it. When he was preparing the disciples at the close of his earthly ministry, our Lord uttered a truly amazing prophecy: “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me” (John 12:32).

Article continues below

Desperation once drove me to adopt this technique, and ever since it has been my principal tactic whenever I encounter opposition. In fact, opposition or no opposition, it is a powerful weapon in the armor of Christian witness. And “lifting up Christ” in this context means simply presenting the claims of the historical Jesus in three indisputable areas.

First, there is that whole aspect of his life where his moral impeccability, his majesty, and his perfection shine out like a beacon light for all to see. There is no room for argument here—the moral grandeur of Christ silences any dissent. Consider him when he was here on the good earth as an incarnate man. Examine him closely—his obedience to God’s commands, his compassion, his instant sensitivity to the needs of others, his approachability. He must have been indeed the most approachable man of all time. Sinners and publicans thronged him even when he sat to eat; they even tore down a roof to get to him, without being reproved. Look at the portrait of him dealing with that tense situation in which a woman taken in adultery was perilously near to being stoned to death, and his gentle deliverance of her. Or look at his reaction to his enemies and all the calumnies and pain they inflicted upon him. On one occasion, against strong pressure, he flung a challenge at the feet of his detractors—“Which of you convicteth me of sin?” (John 8:46)—and no one dared to respond! His moral purity was too patent and glorious for even his enemies to deny.

The second step in this process of “lifting up” Christ is to invite a consideration of his teaching. He himself said that this is one of the key tests of the authenticity of his mission and his claims: “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself” (John 7:17).

To consider all Christ’s teaching would be inappropriate in an encounter such as this, but a very useful tactic is to focus attention upon the three chapters in Matthew that make up the Sermon on the Mount. Surely the quickest way to take an excursion to the very gates of glory is to read and reread these sublime words! No man can seriously read these indescribable verses with an open heart without finding himself speechless except to say, “Never man spake like this man” (John 7:46). The nearest one can get to the mind and purpose and will of God for the moral destiny of man is the Sermon on the Mount. Even the great Gandhi, whatever else he rejected of what he called institutionalized Christianity, could not dismiss the Sermon on the Mount. In fact, he found the words of Jesus in this text irresistible, and read them daily almost up to the day of his martyrdom.

Article continues below

This sermon is really a sort of highway right to the heart of the Indo-Aryan, whether he be Hindu or Buddhist or Jain or Sikh, for the ideal of a morally and spiritually perfect life is deeply entrenched in his mind. Once interest is kindled, he may be open to the prayerful introduction of other teachings.

Third, and the most delicate of all, one can invite a head-on confrontation with the factuality of Christ’s resurrection from the tomb. Here we must be prepared to encounter much incredulity, if not actual opposition; but this step is crucial. Is it not true that if Christ be not risen, our faith is in vain? We confront downright unbelief with the calm declaration that unbelief in the resurrection creates far more insoluble problems than a simple acceptance of the fact of the resurrection. Without going into too much detail, it would be highly advisable at this stage to point out some of the specific reasons why this unbelief is really untenable. If one rejects the resurrection of Christ from the tomb, then he must find reasonably satisfying answers to such questions as:

1. What brought about the dramatic transformation of Peter and the remaining disciples from a group of frightened men who fled at the Master’s most critical hour to a dynamic company destined to affect the course of history?

2. Is it feasible to believe that men would preach a fraud with such fervent zeal? That they would be prepared to face painful death for witnessing to a lie (we know that most of them were martyred and suffered terrible deaths)?

3. If we leave out God’s hand in the matter, how can we account for the fact that Jesus became the great divide of history, the watershed of time, so that we date even the Roman governor who sent him to the cross by the lifetime of this man he condemned?

If one really keeps one’s focus on Jesus Christ our Lord, success in dislodging an unbeliever from the universalist position becomes possible; the unbeliever may reach a point where the declaration of our Lord, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” flows spontaneously from his lips.

Purushotman M. Krishna is professor of Oriental religions and philosophy in the School of World Mission, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, Deerfield, Illinois. He has the M.Litt. from the University of Durham, England, and the Ph.D. from the New School of Social Research, New York City. He formerly was head of the Department of Oriental Studies at the University of Durban, Natal, South Africa. He is the author of “Foundations of Hinduism” and “Journey From the East.”

Have something to add about this? See something we missed? Share your feedback here.

Our digital archives are a work in progress. Let us know if corrections need to be made.

Tags:
Issue: