Goldfish don’t see water
That’s the shocking claim that opens Glen Scrivener’s latest book. Water is their all-encompassing environment, and they see what is in the water, but they don’t see the water itself. And in this sense, if you’re a Westerner, “you are a goldfish and Christianity is the water in which you swim” (p11). Whether you realise it or not, you live in a “profoundly Christian atmosphere” (p12). To use another image, Christianity is “the air we breathe” (a much catchier title than “The Water in Which We Swim”).
Despite the opening sentence, goldfish actually play a very peripheral role in the rest of this much-endorsed paperback. Instead, Glen encourages us to reflect on why Western society holds the values that we do. And through these reflections, he presents an engaging, compelling and illuminating defence of his thesis: It’s all about Jesus.
Self-evident truths?
In the seven main chapters, Glen takes a modern value — equality, compassion, freedom etc. — and shows how we are all children of the Jesus revolution, whether we believe in Jesus or not. Values that we take for granted are not (as the Declaration of Independence would suggest) self-evident, but are shaped by events that happened 2000 years ago, involving a man named Jesus. So, for example: "Once, steep moral hierarchies were the norm; now we want to root out inequalities wherever we find them" (p196). The fact that we think these values are so obvious or natural just highlights the profound impact of Christianity.
As another example, take the question posed by Rachael Denhollander, "How much is a little girl worth?" We probably have an instinctive answer to that question, but our answer is not one universally shared by all cultures in history. Nor is it one rooted in science, economics or sociology. Instead, without realising it, we give a spiritual answer. And this answer owes its essence to the influence of Christianity – a movement which Paul Offit describes as "the single greatest breakthrough against child abuse" (p97).
Glen has three audiences in mind as he writes: the "nones" who are outsiders to Christianity, the "dones" who have rejected Christianity, and the "wons" who are Christians trying to make sense of the world around them. He engages with key cultural moments of the last few years, such as Covid and BLM, and shows how "nones" have in fact been breathing Christian-ish air all along. He responds to valid criticisms of the church — the Crusades, abuse, antisemitism — and shows how the "dones" are in fact using Christian categories to frame their criticisms. And he offers hope and encouragement for followers of Jesus, showing how He is indeed the "Lord of history".
Summing up where we are now, Glen perceptively describes Western efforts to “secularise Christianity” as an attempt to live in “the kingdom without the King” (p200). We have held onto abstract values, but divorced them from Jesus and His story. The result is a kind of miserable semi-Christianity, the worst feature of which is the absence of forgiveness. The harsh possibilities of "cancel culture" illustrate this. And here, we find wonderfully fertile ground for speaking of Jesus: "Values cannot forgive us but only judge us. But with God there is forgiveness" (p201).
Properly weird
The book as a whole ends on an optimistic note for Christians. Our evangelical habit is often to despair at society’s apparent drift from biblical values and the numerical decline of Christianity. But Glen Scrivener offers a more encouraging vision. As we look back in history, we see the unstoppable progress of the gospel: “While other empires rise and fall, Christ’s kingdom falls and rises—repeatedly” (p231). As we look around, we see the incredible growth of global Christianity. And as we look up, we remember that the course of history is in safe hands. “The government is on Christ’s shoulders,” and he has promised to build his church (p232).
And so, Glen Scrivener’s closing exhortation to the church is to be “properly weird” (p229). Our calling is to be distinctively Christian, to be bright and salty followers of Jesus. This means showing society through our words and actions what freedom, equality and compassion truly look like, and how they find their perfect expression in the One we worship.
And ultimately, it means telling people the wonderful story that gives meaning to the “wholly improbable history” we find ourselves in (p219). How has Christianity become the “air we breathe”? How has the Jesus movement had the far-reaching, lasting impact that it has had — both in individual lives and in society? Sometimes the obvious answer is the best: the resurrection of Christ.
I hope this book ends up in the hands of many “nones”, “dones” and “wons” — pointing people to Jesus, prompting them to reconsider Him, and encouraging the church to share this good news in the age in which we live. The 17 endorsements are definitely excessive, but they are at least justly deserved.
Disclaimer: I provided Glen Scrivener with the idea for footnote 67 on page 102, but this has not in any way affected the impartiality of my review.
Shopping list
The Air We Breathe is available from The Good Book Company and 10ofThose for £8.49.
For further reading, some of the books Glen Scrivener cites regularly include:
John Dickson, Bullies and Saints (Zondervan, 2021)
Joseph Henrich, The Weirdest People in the World (Penguin, 2020)
Tom Holland, Dominion (Little, Brown, 2019)
Larry Siedentrop, Inventing the Individual (Penguin, 2015)
Rodney Stark, The Triumph of Christianity (Bravo, 2012)