![]() |
|
December 16th, 2011
04:45 PM ET
My Take: An evangelical remembers his friend Hitchens
By Larry Alex Taunton, Special to CNN (CNN)– I first met Christopher Hitchens at the Edinburgh International Festival. We were both there for the same event, and foremost in my mind was the sort of man I would meet. A journalist and polemicist, his reputation as a critic of religion, politics, Britain's royal family, and, well, just about everything else was unparalleled. As an evangelical, I was certain that he would hate me. When the expected knock came at my hotel room door, I braced for the fire-breather who surely stood on the other side of it. With trepidation, I opened it and he burst forth into my room. Wheeling on me, he began the conversation as if it was the continuance of some earlier encounter: “The Archbishop of Canterbury has effectively endorsed the adoption of Sharia law. Can you believe that? Whatever happened to a Church of England that believed in something?” He alternated between sips of his Johnnie Walker and steady tugs on a cigarette. My eyebrows shot up. “‘Believed in something?’ Why, Christopher, you sound nostalgic for a church that actually took the Bible seriously.” He considered me for a moment and smiled. “Indeed. Perhaps I do.”
There was never a formal introduction. There was no need for one. From that moment, I knew that I liked him. We immediately discovered that we had much in common. We were descendants of martial traditions; we loved literature and history; we enjoyed lively discussion with people who didn’t take opposition to a given opinion personally; and we both found small talk boring. Over the next few years, we would meet irregularly. The location was invariably expensive, a Ritz Carlton or a Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse. He disliked cheap restaurants and cheap liquor. In his view, plastic menus were indicative of bad food. I never ate so well as when I was with Hitch. ![]() Christopher Hitchens, standing, debates his friend Larry Taunton. More than bad food, however, he disliked unintelligent conversation. “What do you think about gay marriage?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I don’t get it. I really don’t. It’s like wanting the worst of both worlds.” He drank deeply of his whiskey. “I mean, if I was gay, I would console myself by saying, ‘Well, I’m gay, but at least I don’t have to get married.’” That was classic Hitch. Witty. Provocative. Unpredictable. Calling him on his cell one day, he sounded like he was flat on his back. Breathing heavily, there was desperation in his voice. “What’s wrong?” I asked, anticipating some tragedy. “Only minutes ago, I was diagnosed with esophageal cancer.” He was almost gasping. I didn’t know what to say. No one ever does in such moments, so we resort to meaningless stock phrases like, “I’m sorry.” Instead, I just groaned. I will never forget his response: “I had plans for the next decade of my life. I think I should cancel them.” He asked me to keep the matter private until he could tell his family and make the news public. Hesitatingly, I told him that while I knew that he did not believe in such things, I would pray for him. He seemed genuinely moved by the thought. “We are still on for our event in Birmingham, right?” He asked. I was stunned. Sensing my surprise, he continued. “I have made a commitment,” he insisted. “Besides, what else am I going to do? I can’t just sit around waiting to die.” Hitchens brothers debate if civilization can survive without God As time approached, he suggested a road trip from his D.C. apartment to my home in Birmingham, Alabama. “Flying has become a humiliating experience, don’t you think?” He said. “Besides, I haven’t taken a road trip in 20 years and it will give us a chance to talk and for me to finally take you up on your challenge.” Arriving in Washington some five months after his diagnosis, I was shocked by his appearance. Heavy doses of chemotherapy had left him emaciated, and hairless but for his eyelashes. His clothes hung off of him as though he were a boy wearing a man’s garments. He was, nonetheless, looking forward to our journey, having packed a picnic lunch and, predictably, enough Johnnie Walker for a battalion. After breakfast with his lovely wife, Carol, and his sweet daughter, Antonia, Hitch and I headed south on an eleven-hour road trip. “Have you a copy of Saint John with you?” He asked with a smile. “If not, you know I do actually have one.” This was a reference to my challenge of two years before: a joint study of the Gospel of John. It was my assertion that he had never really read the Bible, but only cherry-picked it. “Not necessary.” I was smiling, too. “I brought mine.” A few hours later we were wending our way through the Shenandoah Valley on a beautiful fall morning. As I drove, Hitch read aloud from the first chapter of John’s Gospel. We then discussed its meaning. No cameras, no microphones, no audience. And that always made for better conversation with Hitch. When he referenced our journey in a televised debate with David Berlinski the next day, various media representatives descended on me to ask about our “argument.” When I said that we didn’t really argue, they lost interest. But that was the truth. It was a civilized, rational discussion. I did my best to move through the prologue verse by verse, and Christopher asked thoughtful questions. That was it. A bit put off by how the Berlinski event had played out, Hitch suggested we debate one another. Friend though he was, I knew that Hitch could be a savage debater. More than once I had chaired such engagements where Hitch went after his opponents remorselessly. Hence, I was more than a bit anxious. Here he was, a celebrated public intellectual, an Oxonian, and bestselling author, and that is to say nothing of that Richard Burton-like, aristocratic, English-accented baritone. That always added a few I.Q. points in the minds of people. With hesitation, I agreed. We met in Billings, Montana. Hitch had once told me that Montana was the only state he had never been in. I decided to complete his tour of the contiguous United States and arranged for the two of us to meet there. Before the debate, a local television station sent a camera crew over to interview us. When he was asked what he thought of me, a Christian, and an evangelical at that, Hitch replied: “If everyone in the United States had the same qualities of loyalty and care and concern for others that Larry Taunton had, we'd be living in a much better society than we do.” I was moved. Stunned, really. As we left, I told him that I really appreciated the gracious remark. “I meant it and have been waiting for an opportunity to say it.” Later that night we met one another in rhetorical combat. The hall was full. Christopher, not I, was of course the real attraction. He was at the peak of his fame. His fans had traveled near and far to see him demolish another Christian. Overall, it was a hard-fought but friendly affair. Unknown to the audience were the inside jokes. When I told a little story from our road trip, he loved it. The debate over, I crossed the stage to shake Christopher’s hand. “You were quite good tonight,” he said with a charming smile as he accepted my proffered hand. “I think they enjoyed us.” “You were gentle with me,” I said as we turned to walk off the stage. He shook his head. “Oh, I held nothing back.” He then surveyed the auditorium that still pulsed with energy. “We are still having dinner?” he asked. “Absolutely.” After a quick cigarette on the sidewalk near the backstage door, he went back inside to meet his fans and sign their books. There was something macabre about it all. I had the unsettling feeling that these weren’t people who cared about him in the least. Instead, they seemed like a bunch of groupies who wanted to have a photo taken with a famous but dying man, so that one day they could show it to their buddies and say, “I knew him before he died.” It was a sad spectacle. Turning away, I entered the foyer, where 30 or so Christians greeted me excitedly. Mostly students, they were encouraged by what had happened onstage that night. Someone had spoken for them, and it had put a bounce in their step. One young man told me that he had been close to abandoning his faith, but that the debate had restored his confidence in the truth of the gospel. Another student said that she saw how she could use some of the same arguments. It is a daunting task, really, debating someone of Hitchens' intellect and experience, but if this cheery gathering of believers thought I had done well, then all of the preparation and expense had been worth it. The next day, the Fixed Point Foundation staff piled into a Suburban and headed for Yellowstone National Park. Christopher and I followed behind in a rented pick-up truck. Accompanied by Simon & Garfunkel (his choice), we drove through the park at a leisurely pace and enjoyed the grandeur of it all. The second chapter of John’s Gospel was on the agenda: The wedding at Cana where Jesus turned water into wine. “That is my favorite miracle,” Hitch quipped. Lunching at a roadside grill, he regaled our staff with stories. Afterwards, he was in high spirits. “That’s quite a - how shall I put it? A clan? - team that you’ve got there,” he said, watching the teenage members of our group clamber into the big Chevrolet. “Yes, it is,” I said, starting the truck. “They enjoyed your stories.” “I enjoy them.” He reclined his seat and we were off again. “Shall we do all of the national parks?” “Yes, and maybe the whole Bible, too,” I suggested playfully. He gave a laugh. “Oh, and Larry, I’ve looked at your book.” He added. “And?” “Well, all that you say about our conversation is true, but you have one detail wrong.” “And what is that?” I feared a total rewrite was coming. “You have me drinking Johnnie Walker Red Label. That’s the cheap stuff. I only drink Black Label.” The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Larry Alex Taunton. |
![]() ![]() About this blog
The CNN Belief Blog covers the faith angles of the day's biggest stories, from breaking news to politics to entertainment, fostering a global conversation about the role of religion and belief in readers' lives. It's edited by CNN's Daniel Burke with contributions from Eric Marrapodi and CNN's worldwide news gathering team. |
|
Excellent post! I think you've encapsulated the mission of this blog and our challenge.
I truly enjoyed reading this. I'm an aetheist. I love spending time with religous people who are sufficiently comfortable in their faith that they can engage in discussions that don't devolve into defensive counter attacks. Hopefully I fall into that category from the other end. Although I disagreed with Hitchens on Iraq, I found him an engaging, intriguing man. I wasn't familiar with the author of the article before following a link to this page. My impression isof two very good men, ignoring their philosophical/religious differences. Thank you for the engaging article.
I don't believe in "death bed conversions", even if one converts on his death bed. By that, I mean a conversion is a conversion, like a meal is a meal, regardless the time of day. The hebraic meaning of faith was trust or obedience. If anything, conversion when nearing death just means that beween God and a person, there has developed a trust in which there is an intuitive understanding that were healing to take place and that person live, a life of consecration to God would ensue. In the end, refusal to convert even when death nears is just another way of telling God, "No, I would not serve You, even if I were given a chance to do so".
The truth is....none of us know what was in Christopher Hitchens' heart and mind at the moment of his death. I believe he was one of the most brilliant and intellectually honest human beings who ever walked the earth. Personally, I think God appreciates when we question Him with zeal, even anger....as long as we keep looking.
I grieved as I read the article and thought of the passing of Mr. Hitchens for a very good reason, namely, there but for the grace go I. Yes, I was once an atheist, vitriolic, caustic, acid-tongued in my unbelief, bent on making converts to that vacuity of subtlety. Yes, it is emptiness, if the God who is denied shows up as He did in my case. And how unique that He should be Jesus of Nazareth. No less! And in a vision or was it a hallucination? That happened 54 years ago. Dec.7.1957.
I wonder what Mr. Hitchens thought as he passed in and out of the Oxford campus, seeing the Martyrs Monument of Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley, men with the bark on them. Think of Cranmer sticking his hand in the flames, because it had betrayed the faith. Imagine Latimer saying, "Play the man, Mr. Ridley. I trust we shall light a candle that will not be put out." Knowing how I had no sense of God in the years of my atheism, my argument was: How could there be a God and let children suffer as I had (the deprivation of both parents, the long hard years in the cotton fields, the madness of family members, and more)? But when Jesus came knocking at my heart's door, I never had one thought of any of my arguments – only of getting out of that place. Resolved to tell no one, I had my mind changed and wound up being converted that night, a burden lifted off of my heart that I did not know I had and crying tears of joy, a totally unknown experience until then. Only the Sovereign Grace of God could open the heart of an Atheist, determined to tell no one about what had happened.
So I grieve for Mr. Hitchens and hope for the best for him inspite of his folly. Jesus wept over Jerusalem, and He wept before the tomb of Lazarus. Now that is a God with feeling, and who could ever access the extent of such emotion? The joy of Christ is worth it all. God grant us a Third Great Awakening that shall win the whole earth and every soul on it for a thousand generations plus a thousand thousand other planets, should man spread to the stars (an idea suggested by the Puritan, John Owen in his sterling work, The Death of Death in The Death of Christ.
Beautiful and moving testimony. Whatever the case it is too late for Hitchens. Perhaps the grace you describe may yet reach one of these on the blogs.
The Apostles' Creed 2011: (updated by yours truly and based on the studies of historians and theologians of the past 200 years)
Should I believe in a god whose existence cannot be proven
and said god if he/she/it exists resides in an unproven,
human-created, spirit state of bliss called heaven??
I believe there was a 1st century CE, Jewish, simple,
preacher-man who was conceived by a Jewish carpenter
named Joseph living in Nazareth and born of a young Jewish
girl named Mary. (Some say he was a mamzer.)
Jesus was summarily crucified for being a temple rabble-rouser by
the Roman troops in Jerusalem serving under Pontius Pilate,
He was buried in an unmarked grave and still lies
a-mouldering in the ground somewhere outside of
Jerusalem.
Said Jesus' story was embellished and "mythicized" by
many semi-fiction writers. A descent into Hell, a bodily resurrection
and ascension stories were promulgated to compete with the
Caesar myths. Said stories were so popular that they
grew into a religion known today as Catholicism/Christianity
and featuring dark-age, daily wine to blood and bread to body rituals
called the eucharistic sacrifice of the non-atoning Jesus.
Amen
Some of the references used to prepare the update:
o 1. Historical Jesus Theories, earlychristianwritings.com/theories.htm – the names of many of the contemporary historical Jesus scholars and the ti-tles of their over 100 books on the subject.
2. Early Christian Writings, earlychristianwritings.com/
– a list of early Christian doc-uments to include the year of publication–
30-60 CE Passion Narrative
40-80 Lost Sayings Gospel Q
50-60 1 Thessalonians
50-60 Philippians
50-60 Galatians
50-60 1 Corinthians
50-60 2 Corinthians
50-60 Romans
50-60 Philemon
50-80 Colossians
50-90 Signs Gospel
50-95 Book of Hebrews
50-120 Didache
50-140 Gospel of Thomas
50-140 Oxyrhynchus 1224 Gospel
50-200 Sophia of Jesus Christ
65-80 Gospel of Mark
70-100 Epistle of James
70-120 Egerton Gospel
70-160 Gospel of Peter
70-160 Secret Mark
70-200 Fayyum Fragment
70-200 Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs
73-200 Mara Bar Serapion
80-100 2 Thessalonians
80-100 Ephesians
80-100 Gospel of Matthew
80-110 1 Peter
80-120 Epistle of Barnabas
80-130 Gospel of Luke
80-130 Acts of the Apostles
80-140 1 Clement
80-150 Gospel of the Egyptians
80-150 Gospel of the Hebrews
80-250 Christian Sibyllines
90-95 Apocalypse of John
90-120 Gospel of John
90-120 1 John
90-120 2 John
90-120 3 John
90-120 Epistle of Jude
93 Flavius Josephus
100-150 1 Timothy
100-150 2 Timothy
100-150 T-itus
100-150 Apocalypse of Peter
100-150 Secret Book of James
100-150 Preaching of Peter
100-160 Gospel of the Ebionites
100-160 Gospel of the Nazoreans
100-160 Shepherd of Hermas
100-160 2 Peter
3. Historical Jesus Studies, faithfutures.org/HJstudies.html,
– "an extensive and constantly expanding literature on historical research into the person and cultural context of Jesus of Nazareth"
4. Jesus Database, faithfutures.org/JDB/intro.html–"The JESUS DATABASE is an online annotated inventory of the traditions concerning the life and teachings of Jesus that have survived from the first three centuries of the Common Era. It includes both canonical and extra-canonical materials, and is not limited to the traditions found within the Christian New Testament."
5. Josephus on Jesus mtio.com/articles/bissar24.htm
6. The Jesus Seminar, mystae.com/restricted/reflections/messiah/seminar.html#Criteria
7. Writing the New Testament- mystae.com/restricted/reflections/messiah/testament.html
8. Health and Healing in the Land of Israel By Joe Zias
joezias.com/HealthHealingLandIsrael.htm
9. Economics in First Century Palestine, K.C. Hanson and D. E. Oakman, Palestine in the Time of Jesus, Fortress Press, 1998.
the get rid of morons creed
Hit report abuse on all reality bull sh it
....you spent all that time debating ???.....you had the once in eternity to save the man's soul....!!
I was enjoying the article until I read this:
"There was something macabre about it all. I had the unsettling feeling that these weren’t people who cared about him in the least. Instead, they seemed like a bunch of groupies who wanted to have a photo taken with a famous but dying man, so that one day they could show it to their buddies and say, “I knew him before he died.” It was a sad spectacle."
Excessively presumptuous, especially considering you follow this up with an entirely positive description of your own "groupies" (to use your phrase). It's appalling how you impute motive to people you have never met (not very Christian of you, really). Judge not lest ye be judged: consider yourself judged. I hope you're not one of these Christians who believes that atheists are morally degenerate as a class, and that this prejudice is what led you to judge those there to see Hitchens as uncaring "groupies". Either way, you really should be ashamed of your discriminatory statement.
While fighting the cancer Hitchens assured his listeners that if he was reported to have a death bed conversion it was because he had lost control of his mind. This notion that might recant is the last hope of the faithful that fear has triumphed which is deceitful to say the least.
Faith is too often taken on just faith without examination and without evidence. Everyone has their faith and even though there are differences and contradictions they all think that there own is the correct one.
Faith has been said to be the belief in something without the necessity of proof. Hitchens required evidence and proof.