Everyone believes in truth. Everyone holds to some set of beliefs that govern the way they think and see reality, even atheists. After all, the atheist believes that God doesn't exist (he actually has faith in that belief, too). Relativists insist that the only thing we can know for sure is that absolute, unconditional, objective truth doesn't exist. "What's true for you may not be true for me" is their battle cry. In a post-modern age where "tolerance" is considered loving and any form of persuasion and debate on religious beliefs are dubbed "intolerant," any concept of absolute truth – truth that is true no matter what – has become mostly foreign in our society. Most people just "live and let live." But everyone believes in some form of truth, even the most ardent relativist. The question is, why don't people admit it and be consistent? Believing in absolute truth isn't just a consistent way of living – it is the only way of living.

Picture yourself in a huge, dark room. It's a featureless room with round walls and a flat floor. The obvious problem is that you don't know where you are or where you're going. But then, suddenly, yes! You feel something...it's a chair! It has a back and legs, and you can easily sit on it. Sigh! Now, you can use this as a sort of home base to reach out and discover where you are in the room. It is a fixed point of reference. As long as it doesn't move, and it is separate from you, you can navigate without getting lost. But as soon as you pick it up and make it a part of your mobility and consciousness, it isn't a fixed point of reference anymore.

Fiction author and speaker Frank Peretti used this analogy to describe the same concept I'm explaining now. Absolute truth is like that chair. It doesn't change, it is separate from us, and it is the basis on which we order our lives. For the Christian, that fixed point of reference is God revealed through the Bible. It is the standard by which we judge people's actions, especially our own. For relativists and many Americans today, that chair could be their mind, reason, or something else generated inside them. Furthermore, absolute truth is the only possible explanation for objective morality, which is ethical absolute truth. Saying it is "objective" obviously contrasts it with subjective truth. If something is subjective, it might change at anytime. It has no universal application. If I said, "Chocolate ice cream is the worst and vanilla is the best," I am merely stating an opinion, and it obviously isn't true for everyone. Objective truth, however, is universal truth that is unchanging and binding on all men. It transcends cultural boundaries as well. But, does it exist?  If it doesn't, we have no basis for making objective statements like, "rape is wrong" or "Hitler was evil." The only way a person can make objective moral statements is if there is an objective moral standard. Try playing basketball without a rulebook and referees, or think about the English language without rules of syntax. It would be utter chaos.

The fascinating thing is that relativists, atheists, and others who don't believe in any form of absolute truth or objective morality insist on making objective moral statements. They insist on using terms like "wrong" and "evil" when they don't realize they have no right to use those words. To be consistent, the relativist atheist should say, "What is, is. It's not good, it's not bad, wrong, or evil." The Holocaust might have been harmful to the Jews, but it can't be "wrong." The rape and murder of an eleven-year old might not be beneficial to society, but you can't say it was "evil." Furthermore, Mother Teresa did many good deeds during her lifetime, but they can't be labeled as "good," unless of course, you admit that there is a fixed point of reference that is universally true, everywhere, all the time. Christians are at an incredible advantage at this point because they have an objective standard by which they can measure truth and error, right and wrong, good and evil. We can say that things like the holocaust are wrong because the Bible, our source of absolute truth, says every human is made in the image of God and murder is wrong. But the relativist is forced to say it's perfectly fine because in their culture it is "morally right." Are we really to believe that culture was the only difference between Mother Theresa and Hitler? I think not, and history suggests that absolute truth is the only practical way of living. After all, shifts in history like the abolition of slavery and women's rights only took place because people believed that there was an objective truth that applied to everyone and wasn't restricted by cultural norms.

Everyone has a chair, but the relativist's chair has wheels on it. It isn't fixed. It can change whenever society decides it's time for some new ethics. For instance, Ann Landers was asked a question on her talk show: "You used to say sex before marriage was wrong, and now you say it's OK. How do you explain this change in your position?" She replied with, "Times have changed, we have to keep up with the times." Talk about a chair with wheels!

Does Landers really have a fixed point of reference? Actually, yes. For Landers, her absolute truth is simple: there are no absolutes. As you can see, that's a contradiction, and this contradiction is  the biggest argument supporting the concept of absolute truth: the impossibility of relativism because of its inconsistency. To say "there are no absolutes" is to pose an absolute. To call Christians "intolerant" religious people who "stuff religion down other people's throats" is being intolerant of Christianity. To say, "it's wrong to impose your morals on others" is to impose your morals on that person. To say "we have reason, you Christians have faith," is to have faith in your own reasoning. Finally, to charge Christians with "judging" others is judging them just the same. It is clear, then, that a belief system composed of objective truth claims, that is, founded upon a fixed point of reference, is the only consistent way of living and thinking. Absolute truth gives a firm foundation for making truth claims, a reality that we implement into our lives every day without realizing it. 

Christian apologist Paul Copan highlights the concept of absolute truth with an illustration in his book, Truth For You, But Not For Me. He tells his readers to try and imagine a multiple car collision at a busy intersection, and assume we live in a less lawsuit-prone society. Everyone runs into the junction to explain each side of their story: "You didn't have your blinker on!" "Red means red!". Other pedestrians who witnessed the crash from the sidewalk contribute to the discussion. Then maybe the guilty party steps forward: "Well, actually, it was my fault. I was talking on my car phone." When the police arrive and begin taking notes, one truth will be evident: an accident happened. And in time, other truths will be determined. Ultimately, a description of the accident will come out that corresponds to what really happened.