It seems Boyd’s fear of the idolatry of certainty has pushed him to an extreme form of existential subjectivism. How does he know any of what he imagines is true? His final paragraph concedes that he doesn’t. “I don’t actually know this. I can’t be certain. But I’m confident enough to live as if it’s true, with the confident hope that it’s true, and with a profound longing for the glorious day when, I trust, it will be proved to be true” (257, emphasis his).
I appreciate Boyd’s honesty, but we can do better. We don’t need to accept the modern notion that certainty is required for knowledge. And we don’t need to conjure up images of Jesus in a quest to feel that he is real. We can—and we must—believe only what we know. The good news is that while we may struggle with questions and uncertainty, we already know more than enough to believe, more than enough to put our doubt away.Read the rest here.