“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness.”
Charles Dickens’ account at the beginning of his book, “A Tale of Two Cities,” describes France on the brink of revolution. And yet, his words seem to characterize various times throughout history, including this very year.
2024 marked numerable struggles with questions of meaning, providence, and faith. How those struggles unfold, remains to be seen. Some may attain wisdom; others may choose the path of foolishness.
One such struggle admitted dissatisfaction with atheism.
“I exist kind of in the shadowlands between belief and agnosticism,” historian Tom Holland told journalist Bari Weiss in an interview. “What brought me back was essentially losing my faith in atheism: I found it boring ultimately.”
In the Free Press “Honestly” podcast interview, that aired Christmas Eve, Weiss and Holland discussed Christianity’s historical and cultural influence. The conversation, however, deepened beyond world analysis to personal grappling with faith. Both Weiss and Holland seemed to struggle with an inward desire for Christianity to be true. Neither could declare it so, and, yet, both acknowledge its appeals and consolations.
“But what I think Christianity has clearly very successfully done is to articulate ways of understanding the world that go with the grain of something very deep within human nature,” Holland said.
That grain, so deep within human nature, expresses humanity’s longing for objective truth, for meaning, for purpose, for a hierarchy that orders the world — for God.
In the interview, Weiss asked Holland if he believed Christianity was true. He attempted to only discuss its cultural impact and drastic world-changes, but he found himself still grappling with that grain of human nature.
“It’s great success, I think, historically, has been to give value to the most marginalized. While simultaneously situating that, in the broadest possible context — namely, the idea that all human beings have an inherent dignity and are created in the image of God. But that is a message that obviously would have appeal to people across the world,” Holland said. “I don’t think it means it is true, but I can see why it is so easy for people to believe it is true.”
The appeal of its message is not the only enticing part of Christianity. Christianity is true, despite Holland and Weiss’ hesitancy to proclaim it.
Man is created for order, for love, for worship. It is these desires that compel every action — even the ignoring of them. But the ignoring can only last so long until one’s hungry heart groans.
“And I feel that, in trying to make sense of it, I’m trying to make sense of myself and the kind of conflicted nature that I sense exists within me and within the society in which I live,” Holland said. “And I ultimately, I find that it makes my life more interesting to be a part of that, to share in that, and to contemplate the possibility that, as you asked, it might be true. There are times where I dare to believe that. Most of the time I don’t, but there are increasingly times that I do.”
Within his own reasoning, Holland revealed his inward struggle and the reality that “increasingly” he contemplates Christianity to be true. He shared the analogy of a child learning to swim or to ride a bike. The child may paddle or stay upright for a few seconds, but then he sinks or falls.
“But it makes my life more interesting I think,” Holland reflected.
Holland’s personal grappling with Christian truths reflects a potential cultural shift back to Christian values. This summer, the June pride month seemed quieter. In July, a previous president credited God for sparing his life from an assassination attempt.
“It was God alone who prevented the unthinkable from happening,” President Donald Trump wrote in a Truth Social post. “We will FEAR NOT, but instead remain resilient in our Faith and Defiant in the face of Wickedness.”
Although not a profession of faith, the acknowledgment of a higher authority marked clear humility in the leader of a nation. That glimpse of humility may be all the world ever sees, but the world is not to decide Trump’s salvation.
As Proverbs promises, “The king's heart is a stream of water in the hand of the Lord; he turns it wherever he will.”
Trump wasn’t the only social leader who professed a shift in worldview. In an August interview with Jordan Peterson, Elon Musk stumbled over his own explanation and profession of Christianity. Peterson referenced biologist Richard Dawkins’ stance on cultural Christianity, despite his denial of any belief in Christian doctrine.
“I’d like to live in a culturally Christian country, although I don’t believe a single word of the Christian faith,” Dawkins said.
Musk presented a similar stance.
“I’m actually a big believer in the principles of Christianity. I think they’re very good,” Musk said. “I’m probably a cultural Christian.”
Peterson pushed him to clarify. Musk presented an optimistic worldview that aimed for greatest happiness both in the present and the future.
“Happiness or meaning?” Peterson asked.
Musk caved, saying meaning leads to happiness.
“To deepen our understanding of the nature of the universe — that is my religion for a lack of better way to describe it,” Musk said. “It’s a religion of curiosity, the religion of greater enlightenment.”
The quest for understanding describes the journey of every individual, every culture, every nation across history. Our souls long for truth, purpose, direction. Musk’s curiosity is a start.
Peterson’s probing in this interview stems from his own personal grappling with faith questions. He shared, in a recent interview, his struggle with meaning and hope during a painful three year period when his close family members were suffering. Just a few minutes before, however, he defined the divine as the image of courage in immense suffering. He said Christ is the fulfillment of the Old Testament law and prophets and is in fact God — that belief is more than an appreciation for cultural Christianity.
“It’s indisputable. Christ takes the sins of the world unto himself. That means that all the problems that there are, are his problems,” Peterson said. “The pattern of the passion is the decision to voluntary confront and welcome anything that happens to you, no matter what it is. That’s a terrible thing to endeavor to undertake, well the alternative is to shrink away.”
Peterson said the spirit of shrinking away is not the attitude of the divine.
“The spirit of unlimited courage, that’s not a bad start for a definition of what constitutes the divine — the highest possible value,” Peterson reflected.
These public figures’ wrestling with Christian values recognize the stability, peace, and happiness Christian values provide in a society. Love of another instills harmony. But that love, by nature, reflects God, who is love (1 John 4:8).
Their praise, however, of Christian values, specifically forgiveness and charity, views religion from an entirely beneficial approach, instead of a salvific need.
This is the cliff cultural Christianity cannot breach. Optimism and happiness do not lead to salvation. Salvation requires the recognition of one’s own depravity and utter dependence upon the grace of God. Only by that grace do the “benefits of Christianity,” such as peace, happiness, and stability, exist.
The benefits of Christianity and the “boringness of atheism,” as Holland named, may be catalysts for more professions of faith.
Niall Ferguson shared his conversion, along with that of his wife, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, and two children, in a post on X in December.
“I have embraced Christianity. We were all baptized, Ayaan and our two sons, together in September,” Ferguson said. “It was the culmination of a quite protracted process.”
Ferguson shared that, like Holland, he “lost his faith in atheism.”
While Hirsi Ali converted to Christianity first, her family was soon to follow, and their baptisms publicly proclaim the decision to follow Christ. Ferguson’s and Hirsi Ali’s journeys from skepticism in atheism to profession of Christianity signifies more than an appreciation for cultural Christianity. Instead, they profess a deep, profound conviction and belief in Christian doctrine.
While every individual’s journey to faith is unique, Christians can pray that the glamour of cultural Christianity will compel these public figures, and hundreds of private individuals, to take the next step of faith.
Christians should rejoice at the slight cultural shifts in 2024. The apparent comfortability with Christian values should console Christians, who so often endure accusations as haters. The quest and yearning of influential, cultural icons is also encouraging.
But the work has hardly begun. Prayer is ever so needed. Proclamation of God’s truth — not only His love and peace—but also His promised salvation demands recognition in a time such as this. 2025 holds much in store for the furtherance of God’s kingdom on this earth. Only the Lord knows which way our culture will turn.
As Dickens wrote, “It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness.”
Michaela Estruth is a senior studying History and journalism at Hillsdale College, where she is the senior editor of Hillsdale College’s The Collegian and host of various radio shows. She graduated from WORLD Magazine’s World Journalism Institute in 2022 and has written and edited for the Colson Center.
