The Archaeologist Who Changed His Mind

In 1881, Sir William Ramsay left Aberdeen for Asia Minor with a single purpose: to prove the New Testament was unreliable. Trained in the finest German skeptical tradition, the young Scottish archaeologist was certain that Luke's writings were second-century fiction — clever myths dressed up as history.

Then the evidence started pushing back. Inscription after inscription confirmed Luke's precision. Ramsay found that Luke correctly named obscure provincial officials, used the exact political titles for specific regions, and recorded geographical details only an eyewitness or careful contemporary could know. After decades of digging through Roman ruins and reading ancient stones, Ramsay declared Luke "a historian of the first rank."

This is precisely Peter's argument in his second letter. "We did not follow cleverly devised myths," he insists. Peter was there on the holy mountain. He heard the voice of the Almighty with his own ears. He saw the majesty of Christ with his own eyes. And that firsthand encounter, Peter tells us, makes the prophetic word "more fully confirmed" — a lamp shining steadily in a dark place.

We live in an age that treats the gospel as wishful thinking. But Christianity has never been built on fables. It rests on testimony — real people in real places who encountered the living God. That testimony still burns like a lamp in the darkness, holding firm until the morning star rises in our hearts.