Which savior will you choose?
- Aug 26
- 5 min read
Imagine you are enjoying a leisurely weekend stroll along a shady path at the edge of a public park. Suddenly, you stumble upon a surprising scene. You knew this place was called Speaker’s Corner, but had never seen anything of interest before—just a few distracted and mumbling cranks. Now you spot two men at opposite ends of the square speaking with passion and self-assurance, each declaring himself to be the one true Jesus Christ, returned at last for his chosen few. Each has gathered a devoted circle of followers, on their knees, tearful, arms outstretched, convinced that their Jesus is the one true savior of humanity. Well, you think to yourself, here’s something you don’t see every day! Each Jesus is extremely charismatic and articulate. Each seems very very sure of himself, which must count for something. But wait a moment, you realize, they can’t both be right! They can’t both be Jesus Christ, the one true eternal savior of humanity. But if that’s the case, which is the right one? Which one is the true Jesus? Perhaps the one with the better complexion, the slightly clearer and more angelic voice? Or perhaps the other, who seems to a have a marginally brighter aura of passion and self-confidence? Perhaps the one who shouts the loudest, spits the farthest? Perhaps the one with the most followers, or the other with the most ecstatic disciples. After all, they wouldn’t be following this devoutly and unreservedly without being really really sure, would they? This is going to be a tough choice. After all, you don’t want to pick the wrong Jesus!
One small problem. Just because one of the Jesuses must be wrong (since there is only one true eternal savior) does not exactly mean that the other must be right. It is entirely possible that these two incompatible claims may both turn out to be wrong. (After all, there may well be a third Jesus gathering his own followers on the other side of the park.) Perhaps neither of these is the real Jesus! After all, one false Jesus does not necessarily grant legitimacy to any rival Jesus. Nor does one or more false Jesus in this vicinity grant legitimacy to any other Jesus in any other location. Or any other moment in time. One religious claim proved wrong does not grant the tiniest bit of legitimacy to a rival.
Let’s follow this through. We already know that not every individual who claims to be a deity or to speak exclusively on behalf of a deity is necessarily divine. In fact, considering the sheer number of divine claims that have been made by human voices in human history, it seems likely that many or most of these claims will turn out to be false. If we assume that any properly divine truth would necessarily be singular and exclusive, then we should not expect to find a great many divine truths happening simultaneously. In fact, it would be much much more likely than not that any particular religious claim you came across would be among the false majority. Further, we have already established that one false claim does not transfer any legitimacy to the claim of a rival. Most Christians would probably agree that if Dionysus is not in fact a true saving divinity, it does not follow that Prometheus must be. And if neither of these is proved to be the divine savior, it is not thereby the case that Krishna must be the true one.
But carry the reasoning forward. Even if all of these were found to be wanting in their divine claims, it does not follow that the Jesus of the Christians is any the more deserving of belief. And were all of these eliminated from the running, it would not mean that Muhammed is thereby the true prophet. In fact, casting any of these contenders from the competition does not necessarily bring us any closer to finding a true divine voice. Let’s round it out. We have already seen that just because one claim is wrong does not mean that another must be right. But we may further add that just because one of them is wrong does not mean that some other will eventually be right. They might all prove unworthy, each in their turn, one after the other, with none remaining. And even if we accept that they can’t all be right, it does not in any way follow that one of them must be right. They may all prove to be false.
Now all this may seem a suspicious way of arguing to theistic believers. The popular evangelical form of theism could be conveniently reduced to the following syllogism:
There can only be one true religion.
The claims made in the Christian Bible about Jesus of Nazareth are clearly better supported, more reasonable and more compelling than any other religious claim.
Therefore, Christianity must be the one true religion.
Do you see the problem here? (Yes, extra points to those who find more than one.) Even if we were willing to accept that Jesus’ claims as presented in the familiar canonical gospels (as opposed to the less familiar ones) are better attested than those of rivals within range of sight (assuming that the rival claims have been examined with due care and diligence), this does not mean that we have yet seen all possible claims about the one true religion. We are short-lived humans, after all, with limited attention spans and an occasional need for sleep and sustenance. There may be some claims that have not yet reached us (just as Christian claims have not been received by the approximately 100 uncontacted tribal groups in isolated corners of the globe), or it may be that we have somehow ignored or failed to give due attention to the thousands of rival religious claims made by groups we do know about. There are a lot of claims to evaluate and we are busy creatures.
And we should certainly not be hasty in drawing conclusions about such weighty matters. There is a lot to think about and we sure don’t want to make avoidable blunders in our haste. But in truth, how many religious claims have any one of us examined in full measure? How many among the billions of believers have even examined their own religious claims in any careful and sustained manner? It may turn out that evidences available to the human mind are simply not sufficient to decide truths concerning the divine realm, or that human brains and lifespans are woefully inadequate to work through such decisions. After all, if we had the capacity to judge divine claims and reliably to determine which was the true divine claim, then we might not have any need of such religion, since we were already equal to the requirements of divinity. It may turn out instead that we simply don’t have the capacity to evaluate purported religious truths, just as we presume that lab rats do not have the capacity to evaluate the results of the scientific experiments they are forced to endure.
And then there is the matter of the first premise we began with—that only one religion can be the true religion. This premise seems to assume, without any particular evidence, that there is and must be a true religion. How did we arrive at this premise in the first place? After all, such a premise might be, at best, the end of a thorough investigation, but could hardly be taken as a well-founded beginning. Of all the many things we don’t know, we certainly don’t know enough to begin any inquiry with such a confident claim.
But maybe that’s why we do it. Faced with such a daunting beginning, and an uncertain end, why not skip over the uncomfortable parts and start where we would prefer to end? Certainty without all the strain or stress. Every exhausted human being’s dream.

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