“Horton Hears an Atheist”; or, “What To Do When Attacked By Harpies.”

Of course the title is a pun on Dr. Seuss’ famous “Horton Hears a Who,” and because the movie is coming out this summer is of no consequence. I met someone Friday night who would rather hold to fairy tales than embrace the true and living God. [Derek, you will like this one]

Toward the end of our evening in Five Points (I will relate other conversations later) I found three young ladies sitting on the back side of the fountain. I noticed they had been there a while, as if they were waiting on someone, but they never moved. I thought I would go ahead and see what would come of an evangelistic conversation.


I never thought things would turn out they way the did. When I look back on the event, I keep seeing that scene from the 1963 Ray Harryhausen movie, “Jason and the Argonauts” where the harpies swoop down on the old man to steal his food . . . the screeching and the clawing . . .

I approached the girls with a couple of magic tricks that would serve for my springboard, so I asked (to prove my point), “If you can’t trust your eyes, can you trust your heart?” Sure, we agreed that we can’t trust our eyes (one girl quickly figured out one of my tricks, and we shared a laugh when I got “busted”), so I was able to progress to the “Good Person Test.” As I got started, one girl got a cell-phone call that dropped her out of the conversation. I asked the other two how they were at truth-telling (FAILED) and about their stealing habits (FAILED). I felt a check in my spirit that told me to wait for the other girl to get off the phone, so I waited.

When she finally got off the phone, I brought her up to speed on her lying, thieving friends (laugh, laugh, “oh you are bad”) and I asked our rejoined friend if she could trust her heart. She said “yes, I trust my heart fully as it is the center of all I am and do.” I heard a still, small voice that told me she was a pagan. I started looking for amulets, rings, or other paraphernalia. I finally noticed she was wearing all black and one of her friends had a strange “fetish” necklace. I braced myself and asked if she’d ever lied. She had, “but that does not make me a bad person.”

I asked if she’d stolen. She had, “but that does not make me a bad person.”

I asked if she’d ever murdered anyone. She laughed (while the other girls looked bored) and said no. I taught her the scripture that says that hatred is murder, had she ever heard that? The two girls’ heads spun back to me and the one to whom I spoke sucked her breath in, “I’ve never hated anyone,” she answered. Oh, I could feel the love.

I asked, “If God were to judge you by the Ten Commandments, would you be innocent or guilty?”

The main girl with whom I’ve been speaking answered hotly to the effect that she would be innocent because she did not believe in God or that He would judge anyone by the Ten Commandments. She is innocent of all charges. “What a curious answer,” I thought. I wanted clarification. I sought to find out about the source of absolutes when the harpies began screeching, “You can’t force people to believe in something they don’t want to believe in!” That pretty much summed up the whole argument and had I been paying attention, I would have reacted differently. But I went on.

I said, “What would you say if I told you that I did not believe in architects or artists?”
“Nobody said you had to believe there is such a thing,” came the reply. I did not see that one coming.
“Could you offer any proof in their existence?” I pressed.
“Why would we want to prove something you did not want to believe?” they went on.

I remember when I was small and my parents took me to Carlsbad Caverns. The one feature of the underground cave that scared me most was called, “The Bottomless Pit.” I remember the lights and the railing and the dark hole that opened in the cave floor . . . I also remember the rope ladder that someone had place on the edge of the hole, and that it was “broken” as if someone fell. What scared me was not the hole itself, but that my dad was leaning over the railing, peering as far as he could down the hole—I don’t know what scared me more, him falling in, or his glasses . . . anything falling down that hole seemed scary to me.

I felt like I was standing at that railing again, only this time I was actually plumbing the depths of foolishness with those who said there is no God.

I pressed further, “Are you saying there is no God to believe in, or that you reject the true and living God as God?”

The girl in the middle started to stand up and the other two laughed with incredulity. She said, “Why should I believe there is a God? To me [key words there, folks] believing in God is no different than believing we are miniscule creatures on the bottom of a Petri dish. How do we know we are not being watched by someone named ‘Bob’? Prove to me there is no ‘Bob’!” You can tell what picture popped into my mind. I had to keep from laughing.

I told her that denying the existence of God is creating her own reality. Why not stand in the road and deny the existence of trucks. You can deny all you want, but the reality will smack you right between the eyes when you face him on judgment day. They got quite mad that an old man like me would suggest underage girls to stand in the road . . .

All three girls rose up and began yelling and throwing their arms about. I’m not sure what they were saying. Then I heard one try to berate me, “and there you are standing in your sweater and dockers feeling like you persecuted for the Lord! Well, I’m not going to give you that pleasure!” And she went on . . .

I appealed to conscience. “You know there is a ‘right’ and a ‘wrong’ and it has to come from somewhere.” I was trying to make an argument for absolutes. With three talking at once, I could only be quiet.

Then I heard, “I would not believe in a God that would do the kinds of things that He did to Job.” My ears perked up.

“What happened to Job?” I asked.
“He lost everything because of your God,” she hissed back. I waited.
“Is there anything else?” I prodded.
“Yeah. Look what happened to Job’s wife!” She said, making a point.
“What did happen to Job’s wife?”
“She turned to salt you dim-wit!” Her point broke off.
“Are you sure you have the right account?” I asked. “Job may have lost everything because God allowed it, but the point was to show the goodness of God—God restored everything Job lost. Lot lost his wife because she disobeyed God.”

“You just believe a book written by men,” I heard.
“Are you college students?” I asked. They were. “What are your majors?”
“Psychology!” all three chimed.
I was delighted. “Oh, the study of the soul! And how much tuition are you paying to read books written by men?”

I got pounded again. One shouted, “We don’t have to believe anything we read! We are just learning a career that will help people with their problems.” I prayed they could hear themselves. I wanted to turns some of their answers back on them ("who says anyone has to believe what you say?" or, "you must be in it for the money.")

“Psychology is not the study of soul! It is the study of man.”
“Oh, you mean ‘Anthropology’,” I answered.
“No. Anthropology is the study of culture and human interaction,” they tried to correct.
“Oh, you mean ‘Sociology’,” I answered.
They tried to tell me how ignorant I was. I waited until they were finished berating me, then gave them a lesson in Greek:
“It may be helpful for you to consult your glossary again. ’Anthropos’ is Greek for ‘man,’ and ‘psyche’ is Greek for ‘soul.’ You will also find in your textbook ‘sarx’ for flesh and ‘nous’ for mind. Maybe you are in the wrong profession.” All three took off on me again. I probably asked for that.

I was finally able to get a word in edgewise with, “look. You have a conscience, it tells you the difference between right and wrong. Everyone has one. You know there is a God and you know just enough about Him to reject Him. I am here to tell you to repent and believe the gospel.”

"How did you hear? Did you get a voice from God telling you to go?" they mocked.
"Yes, in His Word it says, 'Go into all the world and preach the gospel.' And He has promised His presence as well. I am here on His authority." I replied.

They picked up their purses to leave, “thanking” me for the magic tricks. I thanked them for their time and encouraged them to listen to their conscience.

If I learned anything, its:
1) don't let a person get away with making a god of their own understanding. This is breaking the 2nd commandment and they should be warned to repent;
2) pray that the Holy Spirit gives love to show while still being more relentless than the opposition. Throw your arms around their knees to keep people from going to hell.