G.K. Chesterton, in Orthodoxy, talked about the problem with crazy people. Talk to someone who believes crazy things -- say, a conspiracy theorist or a cultist -- and you will find that they are not, as you might suppose, without reason. They have a reason for everything. Indeed, they have too much reason -- an answer for every question, an explanation for every objection, a reason for everything from why their legs hurt to why the stars twinkle. The government did it.

It's easy to make up stories to explain experience. And they can be ruthlessly consistent stories. But the problem is that many of them are clearly wrong. One of the hallmarks of a crazy worldview is that it's flat and simple, playing the same notes over and over again, going back to the same explanations for everything. The person who believes the government is out to get him will use that as an explanation for everything, so his world is really quite shallow and sorry, telling only one sad little story.

Reality is not like that. It is complex and grand.

G. K. Chesterton talked about how to avoid this fate, and how to help people suffering it. The answer isn't to reason with them in their dark little rooms in a corner of reality. That does no good; they just run around their little well-trodden circuits. The answer is to go outside, get some fresh air, experience some of grandeur and complexity of the broader world.

I have actually had this experience myself. I was raised a young earth creationist, and from an early age was taught that anyone who believed in evolution must be very stupid, as it was so transparently rediculous and there were so many absurdities to it. I never questioned the proposition -- in retrospect quite silly -- that so many people beleived something so obviously false.

When I was in college, I took it upon myself to study the topic at a college level. I studied young earth creationists and old earth creationists and intelligent design and theistic evolution and naturalistic evolution. I learned about paleontology and biology and geology and astrophysics and philosophy and who knows what else. My husband was pursuing a degree in mathematical biology, studying mechanisms for spontaneous speciation, so I had some help from him.

And while it didn't take long for me to discard my young earth background -- a week or so, as I remember -- I expected that with a little bit of further study I could find the correct view. How hard could it be for an evidential person willing to commit a couple of years to the problem?

But I found that the more I studied it, the deeper the rabbit hole went. There is some weird stuff in origins. I mean really weird. The ancient landscape is alien, the history is remote. Folks from several sides made arguments I found persuasive, and after about three years of study, I came to the conclusion that nobody had the whole story. I resolved to consider it an open problem.

The journey from my very simplistic viewpoint to the one in which I was overawed by the sheer complexity of reality was a long and difficult one, and I had to part with some cherished beliefs. That is a painful thing to do, especially when they're beliefs that tell you you're smarter than everyone who believes differently, and that's something that's important to you.

Since then, I have resolved to follow Chesterton's advice -- to seek out strange ideas and happenings, to have respect for the richness and complexity of the real world. "There are more things on heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy." That is my anthem. The world is a wonderous place, and I welcome experiences that further open my eyes to it, that challenge my simple beliefs.

Where am I going with this?

For all of that experience, I am a Christian, on what I think are solid evidential grounds. And in most contexts I am considered a smart person, though I don't know that I particularly stand out on Hacker News. But there is a group of folks I run into time and again, frequently on the internet, who find it confusing that someone like me could believe such things as that.

When I was in grad school, one of the other students asked me what I was studying. I replied that while my coursework consisted of mathematics, outside of that I was also seriously pursuing computer science and theology. When I mentioned theology, he laughed and said, "That shouldn't take long!" In point of fact, I considered it the most demanding of the three subjects.

This reaction is common coming from atheists of a certain type. It is the idea that Christian ideas are simple and nonsensical, that Christian scholars are humbugs or hoodwinked, their work clever in a sad way. That Christians in general are not very smart, for how can they believe what they do, given all the obvious absurdities?

With utmost respect to the folks who believe this, I find it sad, and it makes me think of my days as a creationist. The world is just not as simple as you think it is. Christianity -- let alone all of religion! -- is a grand and complex and multifaceted thing, and whether or not you believe in it, there are wonderous and amazing ideas therein. Even if it is false, you do yourself an intellectual disservice to hold such a simple concept of it.

I have had wonderful dialogues with atheists over the years, and while I think they're wrong, I have found their ideas enriching. I would not understand God as well as I do were they not continually harping upon the problem of evil and suffering and forcing me to think about it. I suspect atheists who talked with intelligent Christians would be similarly enriched -- if not convinced, exposed to ideas worth thinking about. If you think theology is simple and straightforward and unenlightening, you really do not know what you are missing.

I extend you two invitations.

One is a shot in the dark. There is a contemporary professional philosopher named Alvin Plantinga, and he is Catholic. Most folks who hold this view have no idea he exists (but you might -- that's why it's a shot in the dark). He is an engaging fellow, smart and interesting. And while I do not always find him persuasive, he makes good arguments. If you think there are no good philosophical arguments for Christianity or no smart and rational Christians, google him and read some of his work. His wikipedia entry is a good place to start, to whet your appetite. I promise, he ain't no C.S. Lewis. He will expose you to some novel and chewy Christian ideas.

The other invitation is personal. I'm not professionally trained in Christian apologetics, but I am a layman who likes to think and read, and someone who likes to air out the mind. Send me an email with your most interesting atheistic idea -- you know, some really meaty stumper, some obvious absurdity that it makes no sense for Christians to swallow. And in my turn, I promise to show you some ideas and events and people that you have absolutely no idea existed -- help to air out your mind a bit. I promise to be interesting and intelligent, to respect the rules of rational discourse, not to attempt to convert you, and to generally try to make sure you have a good time.

It is a sad thing to be trapped in a simplistic little idea when reality is such a grand place.