In the fall of 1985 I was a rather complaisant Evangelical Protestant. If not quite fat, dumb, and happy--well, at least I was happy. Or so I thought. I was confident in my Evangelicalism and took it for granted that I possessed the truth absolutely. I had had a vivid conversion nearly thirteen years before. I studied the Bible diligently, and I belonged to a solid, growing, thoroughly Evangelical church. I had many well-educated Evangelical friends; I had a sense of purpose in pursuing apologetics as my ministry. Then I chanced upon a slim little book by Thomas Howard entitled...
