Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts

Monday, January 11, 2021

Miracle reports, independence, and mutual support

This is the somewhat technical post to go along with my recent video on miracles and mutual support. It's been fun for me to revisit these topics mentally in the last week or so as I've been planning the video. Since 2008 when Tim and I published our mutual support paper in Erkenntnis, I've published individually a lot more work on independence and testimony. I'm going to include below a list of some relevant publications, some of them (alas) probably available only through institutional subscriptions. But some of them may be available to independent scholars through a free JSTOR account, so do give that a try. 

First, here is the diagram that I used in the talk. (Hat tip to Esteemed Husband for making it look nice.)


As I emphasized in the video, no line of support contains a loop. The discussion is necessarily simplified, especially as regards the role of background evidence concerning the reliability of a source (such as a single Gospel) that reports both the resurrection and the other miracle. Let me say a little more about that.

First, whether you have evidence that two reports are true or false, if they truly support one another in some way, this is always one-directional, even if you think that the people involved are lying or mistaken. The possibility of fabricated reports doesn't in any way mean that you have a loop. Let me make this concrete: Suppose that Joe tells you two different stories. In both of these stories, Joe is set upon by an enemy or by enemies who try to beat him up, and he wins the fist fight. You may suspect that Joe is lying in both cases. This would mean that you think he is a braggart who is trying to make himself look tough. Even so, there would be no loops of support. Call one story Report A and the other Report B. Call their contents Fight A and Fight B. Suppose that you, based on your other information about Joe (e.g., that he's a puny little guy) decide that neither Fight A nor Fight B happened. In that case, the reports still support each other, in the sense that receiving Report A gives you some additional reason to expect Report B, since Report A supports the umbrella hypothesis that Joe is a braggart who wants to look tough by telling fight stories. Hence, you have somewhat of an expectation that he will tell another story of the same general kind. By the same token Report B gives you some reason to think you may receive Report A, via the same route in the other direction. (Here it is somewhat helpful to imagine receiving the reports at different times and imagining that you receive them in one order and then imagining that you receive them in the other order, but this is just to help keep things clear.) So the reports are mutually supporting (each raises the probability of the other) via the proposition that Joe is a particular kind of liar, and that mutual support is non-circular. 

On the other hand, if you have, or gain, information that leads you to think of Joe as truthful and humble, as a person who tells things that are embarrassing to himself and doesn't make things up, if you learn independently that Joe has studied martial arts, and the like, this will decrease the probability that he is lying. In that case, Report A will have more force for Fight A (that that fight actually occurred). By the same token, you will have support from Report A (given your other background evidence about Joe's truthfulness) for a different umbrella hypothesis concerning character and circumstances--e.g., that Joe has (or tends to attract) enemies who try to beat him up, and that when that happens he is a good fighter. This "truthful" or "positive" unifying hypothesis will give you some additional reason to expect another actual fight in the real world, won by Joe. In this way, Report A supports Fight A; Fight A supports the hypothesis that Joe is a fellow who tends to get into fights and win them, which in turn raises the prior probability of Fight B. That also increases at least somewhat the prior probability that you will receive Report B, since Joe seems to tell you about these things. In turn, if you receive from Joe the input Report B, that provides some evidence via the opposite (non-looped) route that raises the prior probability of Fight A.

This means that in these kinds of scenarios, other background evidence that supports the truthfulness of a source that tells both stories tends to focus the evidential force of each report in such a way as to support the content of the other story. To apply this to a Gospel: The more separate reason we have to believe that John the evangelist is truthful and does not make up stories that promote a theological agenda, the more reason we have to believe (all else being equal) that his story about the healing of the man born blind is true. That, in turn, helps to support the hypothesis that there is something very special about Jesus (that he is at least a prophet, if not God himself), which increases at least somewhat the prior probability of the resurrection. And vice versa. The reports can be thought of as inputs. (Technically, as a strong foundationalist, I'm going to take the inputs at any given time to be things like your apparent memories at time t of reading the reports at time t - 1 and so forth--things to which you have direct access.) The force of each input in favor both of its own content and of the content reported by the other input is increased by other evidence that supports the truthfulness of a source that contains both reports.

On the other hand, if we were to have independent evidence that John the evangelist makes up marvellous stories about Jesus, the story about the man born blind would have little force to support the resurrection of Jesus, not only because it would probably be false (would have little force for its own content), but also because it wouldn't support a positive "unifying hypothesis" (such as Jesus' deity or the idea that there is something special and supernatural about Jesus) that would in turn increase the probability that Jesus would really rise from the dead. A negative "unifying hypothesis" (that John makes up theological stories) could still unify the reports--the report of the man born blind in John might give us some additional reason to think that John would also report the resurrection--but not by way of allowing each report to support the truth of its own content and thereby to support the other event.

To put it briefly, as we come to have more and more justified confidence that this person/author doesn’t make stuff up, we get closer and closer to an uncomplicated situation in which we can reasonably say, “Well, since that event happened, that makes it more likely that this other event happened, too.”

Another point: While the testimony of an otherwise highly reliable source is itself good evidence that the next thing he tells us is true, it is of course especially helpful if the story in question contains specific marks of realism. That makes the report even stronger evidence for what it attests, and this comes on a quasi-continuum. We should not be agnostic about each report on a passage-by-passage basis. That is something I have always spoken out against and will have much more to say about in The Eye of the Beholder. On the other hand, a brief, undetailed report will in the nature of the case carry less weight that a longer report in which we can point to specific marks of truth. In the accompanying video I draw a contrast in this regard between the account in John 9 of the healing of the man born blind and Mark's account of Jesus' healing of a blind man in Mark 8:22-26. Even the latter is not a bare statement, "Jesus healed a blind man near Bethsaida" and nothing more. It contains the oddity of Jesus spitting on the man's eyes (similar to his creating a paste from saliva and mud in John 9). It contains the bit of dialogue in which the man says he sees people walking like trees and Jesus touches his eyes again, which could potentially be embarrassing to a person wanting to make Jesus look more powerful. (Yes, I know that one can make up theological meanings for this, but those are subjective and unconvincing.) And there is Jesus' attempt to get him not to tell others about the miracle, which fits with other cases in the Gospels. So even here there are indicators of truth. An example of an even more spare account would be John 2:23, which just says that Jesus performed "signs," unspecified, when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover. The healing of the man born blind in John 9, being longer and more detailed, provides more opportunity for markers of truth to come up. 

The discussion of general reliability above concerns one source that tells both stories. If you have additional evidence from another document, another person, etc., for one or both of the events or for details mentioned in the story, all the better. That, too, would be included in the direct evidence for that story as modeled in the diagram. In the video, I included a bundle of different things in E1. In the case of the resurrection, we have several different Gospel accounts, evidence for the reliability of those other Gospels, as well as other evidence (e.g., in Acts) for the disciples' early attestation of the physical resurrection under conditions of great personal danger. Undesigned coincidences between accounts help to show independence as well as truth--a twofer. Apparent contradictions help to show independence.

As I say, it's been a lot of fun to return to this material, and believe it or not, there are still more complexities that I haven't discussed here. I've been making some additional notes in a document of some other thoughts on the probabilistic issues that I'm not including here.

Below is a small bibliography, ordered from most recent on top to oldest on the bottom, of some of my professional publications on these topics, including a more recent individual publication in Erkenntnis on undesigned coincidences. At a minimum, the combination of the video and this post shows that it is possible to "keep accounts" so that we are not using loops of support when there really is mutual support between miracle accounts (or between any accounts). Evidence for Gospel reliability is highly relevant to all of these issues, though "keeping accounts" is somewhat complex.

************************************

“Undesigned Coincidences and Coherence for an Hypothesis,” Erkenntnis, 85 (4) (August 15, 2020), pp. 801-828. On-Line First, August 6, 2018, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10670-018-0050-4 Author’s accepted manuscript version archived here.

“Finessing Independent Attestation: A Study in Interdisciplinary Biblical Criticism,” Themelios 44.1, pp. 89-102 (April, 2019)

“Accounting for Dependence: Relative Consilience as a Correction Factor in Cumulative Case Arguments,” Australasian Journal of Philosophy. 95:3 (2017), 560-572, DOI 10.1080/00048402.2016.1219753. Abstract here. Does not include whole article.

“Evidential Diversity and the Negation of H: A Probabilistic Account of the Value of Varied Evidence,”  Ergo 3:10 (2016), available here.

“Foundationalism, Probability, and Mutual Support,” With Timothy McGrew, Erkenntnis 68 (2008):55-77. JSTOR entry here (does not include whole article).

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

When minimal is minimizing [Updated]

 

When minimal is minimizing [Updated]

(Originally published at What's Wrong With the World. Link to original post at 'permalink' below.)

I recently ran across a discussion on Reasonable Faith from 2015 that represents, I'm sorry to say, some of the most problematic tendencies in presenting a minimal facts argument for the resurrection of Jesus and the truth of Christianity. I have discussed problems with this argument here, and this post will be a companion piece to that one.

The 2015 discussion, by Dr. William Lane Craig, is an answer to a question from a reader. The reader (Joe) suggests, in my opinion quite rightly, that we should argue in an apologetic context for the accuracy and reliability of the gospels rather than their inerrancy and inspiration. If we take "accuracy" and "reliability" in Joe's question/suggestion in a normal sense, this seems like a legitimate suggestion.

But Dr. Craig, in answering, writes as though he is agreeing with Joe but takes his answer in a very strange and (to my mind) incorrect direction.

One big problem with the answer is that "reliability" seems to be redefined rather radically, so that it clearly isn't at all what Joe meant in his suggestion. Here is part of Dr. Craig's answer:

The task of apologetics is to lay out a rational justification for the truth of the Christian worldview. By “the Christian worldview” I do not mean the entire body of Christian doctrine. I mean the broad outlines of a view that would merit appending the label “Christian” to that view. More simply, it is what is necessary and sufficient to believe for becoming a Christian. This sort of minimalist understanding of the Christian worldview is what C. S. Lewis called “mere Christianity.”

The central pillars of the Christian worldview, it seems to me, are the existence of God and His decisive self-revelation in Jesus, as shown by His raising him from the dead. If one comes to believe those two things, then one ought to become a Christian, and the rest is working out details.

Now, as you point out, in order to provide justification for those two beliefs, one needn’t affirm biblical inspiration, much less inerrancy. The arguments of natural theology for God’s existence don’t depend upon biblical inerrancy, nor does demonstrating the crucial facts about the life of Jesus of Nazareth, including his radical personal claims, whereby he put himself in God’s place, and the key events undergirding the inference to his resurrection from the dead.

Popular Christian apologists have long given lip service to this point but did not really take it seriously, as revealed by their resorting to implausible harmonizations in order to defend the Gospel accounts against any allegation of error. Such measures are unnecessary. The fact is that the central facts undergirding the inference to Jesus’ resurrection are granted by the wide majority of New Testament scholars today, even those who think that the Gospels are rife with errors and inconsistencies. For example, my Doktorvater Wolfhart Pannenberg argued for the historicity of Jesus’ resurrection and empty tomb, even though he thought that the empty tomb stories in the Gospels are so legendary that they have “scarcely a historical kernel” in them. I think that Pannenberg seriously underestimated the historical credibility of the empty tomb accounts, principally due to the work of the German critic Hans Grass; but never mind: the point is that he well illustrates how someone can have a historically justified belief in Jesus’ bodily resurrection without a commitment to the inerrancy of the texts.

So I almost never argue with an unbeliever about biblical inerrancy. I’ll concede for the sake of argument virtually all the errors and inconsistencies in the Old and New Testaments that he wants to bring up, while insisting that the documents collected into what was later called the New Testament are fundamentally reliable when it comes to the central facts undergirding the claims and fate of Jesus of Nazareth. For the apologetic task it doesn’t really matter whether Jesus was born in Bethlehem, which day of the week he was crucified, how many angels were at the tomb, and so on. So long as the central facts are secure, the unbeliever ought to become a Christian.

Notice that we have gone so far past arguing for inerrancy at this point that we are supposed to be conceding, at least for the sake of the argument, virtually all errors and inconsistencies that the skeptic wants to bring up, that the Gospels are "rife with errors and inconsistencies," and perhaps even Pannenberg's view that the Gospel resurrection accounts are so legendary that the empty tomb accounts contain "scarcely a kernel of truth."

Does anyone suppose that, when reader Joe suggested that we argue for the accuracy and reliability of the Gospels rather than their inerrancy, he had in mind conceding that the Gospels are rife with error and inconsistency and that virtually all errors and inconsistencies alleged by a skeptical scholar like, say, Bart Ehrman are really present?

Joe clearly meant just the opposite of this! In fact, Joe says this:

I have spent a lot of time thinking about how to convince unbelievers. In my study, a strange thought occurred to me. It does not matter if the New Testament is inerrant or even inspired - it only matters if it is true!

If the gospel writers accurately recorded what Jesus said and did, and if Luke preserved the history from about AD 30-62, and if the writers of the epistles wrote about what they learned from Jesus and the apostles, then we have all we need to become Christians and have a relationship with God.

Notice the reference to the Gospel authors as accurately recording what Jesus said and did.

So Dr. Craig's answer is more or less saying, "I'll see you and raise you five. Let's ditch not only inerrancy but also ditch much Gospel reliability, and then redefine 'reliability' so that it just means 'getting it right on some incredibly minimal set of facts.'"

The use of "reliable" here is apparently supposed to apply to the following statements, listed toward the end of the answer:

With unbelievers we should simply make the case that the documents collected into the New Testament are reliable enough to warrant the beliefs that Jesus understood himself to be the Messiah, the unique Son of God, and the Danielic Son of Man, and that his crucifixion, burial, empty tomb, post-mortem appearances, and the origin of his disciples’ belief in his resurrection are historically well-founded.

So the Gospels should be deemed "reliable" on the grounds that they were right about these few things, even if we concede virtually everything else negative that a skeptical interlocutor says about them. But this is just a strange use of the term "reliable." There is a huge difference between saying that a document, though riddled with errors and contradictions with other accounts, happens to get a few extremely minimal claims right and saying that the document is reliable! Craig here seems to confuse "getting a few big, minimal things right" with "being reliable" in a meaningful sense. Instead, one more accurately should describe this as the view that the documents are (for all one can tell, given the fact that we're unwilling to assert or argue anything to the contrary) generally quite unreliable but get a few big-picture things right despite being unreliable. Perhaps by accident, in that case.

I would say, speaking as an epistemologist, that it is open to doubt whether one can get the conclusion that the Gospels get even these few things right if one is willing to grant, even "for the sake of argument" that they are as riddled with contradictions and errors as the skeptic wants to claim. Try that with Bart Ehrman and see how far you get. If, as Pannenberg thought, the empty tomb accounts contain "scarcely a kernel of truth" because they are so legendary, one wonders why anyone should affirm the empty tomb. I certainly wonder why Pannenberg did. Once we start allowing "for the sake of argument" that the Gospels contain legend and embellishment, especially at the point of accounts of miraculous incidents, it's not at all clear why the empty tomb should be allowed to pass muster. In fact, Gary Habermas, who invented the "minimal facts" argument for the resurrection which Dr. Craig is pushing rather hard on here, makes quite a point of not including the empty tomb among the "minimal facts." He leaves it out on the grounds that it isn't acknowledged by a large enough consensus of scholars across the ideological spectrum. See here.

I note as well the rather careful statement of Jesus' "radical personal claims." One would normally have expected these to include the fairly direct claims to deity in the Gospel of John, such as, "I and the Father are one," but it's pretty clear that Dr. Craig is wording the claims in a more restrained fashion so as not to depend upon those passages in John and so as to depend instead on the synoptics alone--"the Danielic Son of Man," "the unique Son of God," etc. This is (I would strongly guess) because unfortunately even some evangelical scholars are prepared to doubt the historicity of the unique statements in John. So the Gospels must be granted to be so unreliable that even our statement of Jesus' "radical personal claims" has to be minimal.

It is also questionable whether, once the minimal facts are watered down this much, they provide a strong case for the resurrection. I have argued that in the earlier post and won't restate the argument right now. I will be giving a webinar on this whole subject on April 7 for Apologetics Academy and will go into that point again at length there.

Now, back to Pannenberg. Dr. Craig has been absolutely explicit elsewhere that Pannenberg denies the bodily resurrection of Jesus.

Therefore [according to Pannenberg], the Gospel appearance stories are late legendary developments that represent a kind of materializing of the original, primitive, spiritual experiences. The original experiences were just these visions of Jesus. It would be similar to Stephen’s vision of Jesus in Acts 73. When Stephen is being stoned, he sees the heavens open and he says, “I see the Son of Man in the heavens.” Nobody else saw anything, but Stephen saw this vision of Jesus. And I think that Pannenberg would say that that is similar to what the original resurrection appearances were. They were these visionary events and then they got corrupted and materialized and turned into the Gospel appearance stories, which are very, very physicalistic.

It's therefore very interesting that, in the 2015 answer to the question from Joe, Dr. Craig should have made an error on this very point, for he says, "[Pannenberg] well illustrates how someone can have a historically justified belief in Jesus’ bodily resurrection without a commitment to the inerrancy of the texts." No, not bodily resurrection. I'm assuming that was a mere slip in writing, but it's a rather revealing one. It's become unfortunately common for Dr. Craig and others to refer to those who take a view like Pannenberg's as "affirming the resurrection," which in my opinion they should not do. "The resurrection" should mean the bodily, physical resurrection of Jesus, not a vision sent from God. But apparently this habit of saying that this "objective vision" view involves "affirming the resurrection" can occasionally result in a slip whereby one literally slides over into saying that it involves affirming the bodily resurrection even though it is just the opposite--a denial of the bodily resurrection. When one gets into the bad habit of calling something an affirmation of the resurrection when it isn't, it may beget a great deal of confusion.

Another problem with this entire post is the use of inerrancy as a stalking horse. To be sure, that is to some degree introduced by Joe's question in the first place. But as already pointed out, there is no reason to think that Joe was confused on the point at issue--namely, whether apologists should appear to throw out (strong) reliability in the name of setting aside inerrancy for apologetic purposes. That is precisely what Dr. Craig is unfortunately doing here. He keeps talking about inerrancy over and over again while giving illustrations of conceding not just on inerrancy but also on reliability in any robust sense. He does not confront the question of whether the apologetic task really can survive in a healthy form while we grant all of this unreliability, even "for the sake of argument."

Another problem here concerns doctrine. While Dr. Craig refers to C.S. Lewis and "mere Christianity," it is questionable whether the extremely minimal facts he names can give us even that. What about the deity of Christ, for example? If you had to argue that Jesus was really God, God in the flesh, against Arianism, could you do a convincing job if you were to acknowledge that the Gospels are riddled with error and contradiction and if you deliberately refrained from using the unique passages in the Gospel of John? In essence, this involves acknowledging (at least "for the sake of argument") that the Gospels don't do a very good job reporting Jesus' statements. I'm probably a bit conceited about my own argumentative prowess, but even I wouldn't want to be tasked with arguing under those handicaps that Jesus really is God! What about the Trinity? I would think it highly unlikely that one would be "allowed" to use the Trinitarian formula for baptism in Matthew 28:19 as an historical utterance of Jesus after granting "for the sake of argument" that the Gospels are riddled with error and contradiction and contain legendary elements. Why think that Jesus said that, if the Gospels are that unreliable? In fact, something so obviously doctrinal and formulaic-sounding is precisely the sort of thing that higher critics are likely to say, and concessive apologists likely to concede, might well have been added to the story later to reflect the Church's practice and was never historically said by Jesus. And the same for the unique discourses on the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, in the Gospel of John.

This whole question of doctrine becomes rather urgent since Dr. Craig envisages a situation where we actually attempt to evangelize the skeptic we are debating, and in the course of this debate we grant a great deal to that skeptic and then tell him that he should "become a Christian" anyway on the basis of the extremely minimal material that we have left ourselves to work with. But what would it mean for this person to become a Christian? Note that here I am talking about what most of us think of as "mere Christianity." I'm not talking about whether one's potential new convert becomes a Calvinist, an Arminian, or a Molinist! Does he believe in the Trinity? Does he believe that Jesus is God? Does he believe that Jesus rose bodily from the dead rather than that Jesus merely appeared to his disciples in the form of a vision sent from God? Does he affirm the virgin birth? Such a person doesn't have to have all the details of Calcedonian metaphysics held clearly in his head, but we need to get a whole lot further than, "Jesus made a radical personal claim to be the son of God and rose from the dead in some sense or other" in order to have even "mere Christianity"!

At that point, if the skeptic is willing to listen, does one go back and say, "Okay, I granted for the sake of argument that the Gospels are a mess of contradictions and errors, but now I want to take that back and argue that we can see objectively that they are much more reliable than that, and therefore you should accept orthodox Christian doctrine"?

If you could do that, why did you grant so much for the sake of the argument in the first place? Wouldn't it have been awfully useful to have more reliable Gospels to work with as part of convincing him of the resurrection? And isn't the skeptic-on-the-verge-of-conversion going to feel like this was a bit of a bait and switch? It didn't seem like you were asking him to accept a high degree of actual, historical reliability for the Gospels in the first place, and now you are asking him to accept that when you get to the point that you want him to believe Christian doctrine.

If a high degree of actual reliability and accuracy cannot be argued for objectively but merely seen with the eyes of faith or something of that kind, why should the skeptic-thinking-of-becoming-a-Christian grant it? Maybe he should become a Socinian or Arian instead. Or maybe he should become a believer in the paranormal rather than in Christianity. But if it can be argued for objectively, why not at least assert that at the outset?

Dr. Craig also downplays harmonization in these odd sentences:

The arguments of natural theology for God’s existence don’t depend upon biblical inerrancy, nor does demonstrating the crucial facts about the life of Jesus of Nazareth, including his radical personal claims, whereby he put himself in God’s place, and the key events undergirding the inference to his resurrection from the dead. Popular Christian apologists have long given lip service to this point but did not really take it seriously, as revealed by their resorting to implausible harmonizations in order to defend the Gospel accounts against any allegation of error. Such measures are unnecessary. The fact is that the central facts undergirding the inference to Jesus’ resurrection are granted by the wide majority of New Testament scholars today, even those who think that the Gospels are rife with errors and inconsistencies.

This is the only reference to harmonization in this discussion, and, as seen in the quotation given above, Craig says expressly that his recommended method in apologetics is not to harmonize when talking with an unbeliever but rather to grant him for the sake of argument "virtually all the errors and inconsistencies that he wants to bring up." This gives the seriously wrong impression that harmonization is just something we do as Christian believers rather than being a normal part of historical practice. But even purely secular historical accounts often need to be harmonized, and the use of real-world, sensible imagination to do so is not a religious enterprise but rather a part of rational historical investigation. Why should we assume that "popular apologists" who make use of harmonization are doing so because they are inerrantists and want in some dubiously objective fashion to protect the Bible from any hint of error? Someone might well engage in harmonization both for historical reasons and because he was trying to induce the skeptic to take seriously the possibility that the Gospels are actually reliable in a normal, historical sense.

Naturally, if we restrict our examples only to wild harmonizations, one might understandably wonder what the motive was for making such a suggestion. But frankly, I can't say that I'm hearing popular apologists out there making use of wildly strained harmonization. Why present Joe and other readers with a false dichotomy between some sort of desperate, theologically motivated, strained use of harmonization in apologetics and no harmonization at all? Where did reasonable, responsible harmonization get to in the course of this discussion? This is not to mention the fact that, unfortunately, Dr. Craig regards it as artificial to think that Jesus cleansed the Temple twice in his ministry, so there is certainly room for putting a question mark over his unspecified condemnation of popular apologists with reference to their allegedly strained use of harmonization.

Craig seems to imply that, when dealing with believers, we perhaps can consider harmonization, though he doesn't say so quite explicitly:

When it comes to the task of theology, however, things are different. The task of theology is to lay out systematically the truths taught in Scripture. Thus, one will try to develop a coherent system of doctrine which is faithful to Scripture. Based on what one thinks makes the best sense of Scripture, one will develop a more detailed body of Christian doctrine. This will include doctrines about what Scripture has to say about itself....So in answer to your questions, we don’t need to “argue over inspiration or inerrancy” with unbelievers, but we do need to discuss these questions with fellow Christians....With fellow believers we need to discuss the nature of biblical inspiration and what follows from that for the truthfulness of Scripture.

This would seem to mean that it's okay to try to harmonize when talking with fellow believers, because they are supposed to share some view of biblical inspiration with us. It would also seem to mean that we can use other portions of Scripture that we have otherwise set aside as historically dubious. But I have to say that this treats harmonization as the theological crazy uncle that we're a little ashamed of when he shows up outside of the house. And once again, one must ask why a brand-new believer-in-something-or-other based upon an argument that conceded so much "for the sake of argument" would even accept a doctrine of Scriptural inspiration. Therefore, why would such a person ever become a "fellow believer" in that sense? Why would he care that a passage is found in Scripture and (say) attributed to Jesus if it might just have been a later accretion from the entirely fallible Christian community? For that matter, why should he care about what the apostles said or wrote in letters? If it's so dicey from an objective, historical perspective to figure out whether or not Jesus even made the "I am" statements or said "I and the Father are one," it should be at least that dicey, historically, to decide that Jesus endorsed the teaching of the apostles as doctrinally authoritative!

Theological argument requires historical argument. Historical argument for Christian theology would normally include, for example, the statement that Jesus taught such-and-such and/or that Jesus commissioned his disciples to be theological teachers and that the apostles taught such-and-such. But of course one would need in that case to be able to claim a good historical case for those points.

The split in Dr. Craig's discussion here between the way we deal with skeptics and the way we deal with believers, and hence between history and theology, is troubling. Epistemically, there should be no such split. The facts are what they are. What is justified is what it is. Theology should be based solidly on history, not accepted in a blind leap as a separate, and rather large, package deal after we have wheedled the skeptic into granting "the resurrection" in some sense or other.

Several decades ago the prescient philosopher Francis Schaeffer talked about the "upper story" and the "lower story" in one's worldview. This discussion in Schaeffer was roughly parallel to what has otherwise been called the fact-value split. Schaeffer pointed out that modern man has a major problem with separating the upper story from the lower story and never letting the twain meet. (Unfortunately, Schaeffer attributed the historical origin of this split to Thomas Aquinas, which is crazy. Aquinas was arguing precisely against such a split and was uniting faith and reason. But set that aside.)

I am very much afraid that the history/theology distinction in minimalist modern apologetics is following the lower-story/upper-story pattern. Down on the bottom there is the so-called "historical bedrock" that is so incredibly minimal that it is granted even by quite liberal, non-Christian scholars. Going beyond that is treated by minimalist apologists as historically dubious. But hey, good news: You can supposedly use that incredibly minimal "historical bedrock" to ratchet an unbeliever into becoming a "believer" (for some values of "believer"). Then he's magically supposed to believe in the authority of the books that have been gathered into the canon, known as "Scripture," and then we can go about convincing him of a whole lot more theological doctrine, even though we don't have a good historical argument that these propositions have been endorsed by Jesus or God.

This is highly questionable epistemic practice, and I doubt that any prospective convert should view it with favor. We need, ourselves, to be men with integrated minds; by this means we can produce converts who also have integrated minds.

Update: My attention has been drawn to this post by Dr. Craig in which he carves out an unusual use of the concept and terminology of "bodily" resurrection according to which Pannenberg does believe in the "bodily" resurrection of Jesus, since Jesus' body disappeared from the tomb and in this sense was "raised." (Did the ascension take place instantly, in that case? Perhaps so.) Then Pannenberg holds to the "objective vision" theory according to which Jesus did not appear bodily to his disciples--a point on which Craig has been explicit. Generally the objective vision theory is held to be in contrast with the bodily resurrection of Jesus, but apparently in Craig's terminology there is an option that is objective-vision-with-the-body-was-raised-and-went-straight-to-heaven that he believes can be called "bodily resurrection." Given this, apparently he was not (on his own terms) making a slip when he said that Pannenberg affirms the bodily resurrection. I'm happy to correct this terminological point while noting that this is not generally what would be meant by "bodily resurrection" and hence is quite a confusing use of the phrase.

Friday, August 14, 2020

God and complexity

 

God and complexity

(Originally published at What's Wrong With the World. Link to original post at 'permalink' below.) 

Atheists and naturalists are always trying to get something for nothing, so they are always looking for some silver bullet argument that will make it unnecessary for them to get into the messy details. By far the most popular candidate in this regard is the claim that a miracle, or Christian theism, or a miraculous Christian theism, is just "too improbable" at the outset to be bothered with. In this category we can place Hume's claim in his essay on miracles to have delivered an "everlasting check to all kinds of superstitious delusion."

A more sophisticated recent version of this is the claim that Christian theism or even classical theism is so complex an hypothesis that it has a very large burden of proof--worrisomely and discouragingly large.

In this context there is a further fear that, in responding to the problem of evil (POE) by including the idea of a fall of man, chosen evil, Satan, or even just the general notion that God intended things to be perfect but that they were marred by the choices of finite beings, we have saddled ourselves with an ontologically complex hypothesis. The idea there is that such an ontologically complex is therefore a worse explanation of the data than some allegedly more modest naturalistic hypothesis. (E.g. Suffering is a result of evolutionary chance; nature and man were not created by a good God.)

The claim that Christian theism is worrisomely complex needs to be met with the philosophical principle of "no double standards."

How does the "no double standards" principle apply? Ask yourself how many complex things you believe today in non-religious areas. For example, you believe that your mother exists, and presumably you believe a lot of things about her. Nobody had to convince you that your mother's existence had a "high prior probability" before taking into account the specific evidence you have for her existence (e.g., your memories of all the things that she has done for you). That would be ridiculous. We never approach everyday affairs by asking what the probability of an hypothesis would be if we had absolutely no evidence for it!

This is not to say that simplicity considerations have no role to play. They do. But their role should be comparative. For example, suppose that we ask how you could account for the evidence on the hypothesis that your mother does not exist. You would have to bring in some sort of massive memory creation on the part of your subconscious mind or on the part of some Cartesian Deceiver or mind-maipulator. Or perhaps you would have to hypothesize that what you call "my mother" is really an android, a space alien, or a holograph that has been cleverly designed to look like a human woman and to act like a mother to you. Now all of these are obviously much more complex hypotheses than the hypothesis that your mother really exists.

So complexity and simplicity considerations come into play in considering a) the evidence at hand and b) various alternative hypotheses for explaining the evidence.

Virtually everything we believe on a day-to-day basis is very complex, when we consider its details: For example, that giraffes exist, that the Civil War occurred, and that Barack Obama is presently the President of the U.S. If you were to spell out for each of these what you mean by "giraffes," "the Civil War," or "Barack Obama," you'd come up with a lot of complexity in the detail. That isn't a problem, though, because the evidence itself requires relatively complex hypotheses.

The same is true of Christian theism. We have a large variety of evidence and must explain it, and the evidentialist apologist says that Christian theism is the best explanation of the evidence at hand. At that point it is a sheer head-fake to try to take us back to a pre-evidential situation and get us to worry about what the situation would be like if we had no evidence!

If anything, we can note that even in the absence of all the complex empirical evidence, we would still have various a priori arguments of natural theology, which is more than one can say for everyday beliefs. If you had no empirical evidence for your mother's existence, you couldn't argue in a purely a priori that a Generic Mother must exist as the First Cause. So in that sense, theism has a leg up on everyday empirical propositions.

Be that as it may, we of course want to argue for something more than generic theism or even generic classical theism. We want to argue for Christian theism, specifically. And that is where the evidence of revelation and miracles comes into play and must be accounted for.

At this point, though, I want to go back to the question about the POE and the alleged complexity of answers involving evil choices, evil beings, and the like. This question lies somewhere in the uneasy middle ground between pure natural theological arguments (such as the moral argument) about the existence of a generically good God and full-bore historical arguments involving the special, revelatory acts of God such as the argument for the resurrection.

Are we who believe in a good God forced into a somewhat uncomfortable position of having to hypothesize a complex hypothesis to account for suffering and evil while the atheist has no such burden? At that point do we simply say that the further evidence for Christianity is so strong that it can overcome this previous disconfirmation by suffering and evil?

I don't think so. Here is why: When we consider evils such as pain and suffering, we need to consider a wider array of evidence that includes natural goods as well as evils. Presumably the person raising this objection is not permitted to say that our feeling that there is "something bad" about the pain of cancer is "merely subjective." If one could dismiss our sense of axiological badness ("problem of suffering," "problem of pain," dysteleology, etc.) that easily, then the atheist would have no data to use in this argument, because by his own account this "sense of badness" would have no meaning. In which case, how could he argue that a good God would not permit such evils?

But in that case, another part of the data at this same level is all of the axiological goodness in nature. We could instance the tenderness of many types of animal mothers, the incredible ingenuity in evidence in the mammalian immune system and its ability to fight off disease, and the beauty of a butterfly. This is partly a matter of the argument from design, but it goes beyond that to the axiological goodness of design. Just as there is something ugly (or so it seems) about "nature red in tooth and claw," there is also something valuable about the marvelous adequation of means to ends in creatures.

When we come to human life, this combination of glory and horror is especially striking. The atheist instances human suffering, such as severe psychological illness or the pain of watching a loved one die slowly (not to mention the pain of the loved one). It is fair to say that there are distinctive ways in which rational creatures can suffer beyond the ways in which non-rational creatures can suffer. Does the existence of all of this suffering disconfirm the idea that God is good? Perhaps it would if it were taken all by itself. But we should consider a great deal more evidence available even aside from the specific evidence of divine revelation. Consider, for example, the many natural goods that are unique to humans: The ability to create and enjoy artistic masterpieces in a wide variety of media, the intense joy of contemplating beauty, the availability of beauty for man to contemplate, the glory of human romantic love, the pleasure and goodness of love between parents and children, and so forth.

What does all of this mean? I think it means that we are (even before taking into account the specific evidence for Christian revelation) in precisely the sort of situation in which the evidence itself is complex. We have evidence of both good and bad things, beauty and ugliness, glory and horror, intense suffering and intense happiness, in nature, including human life. Hence it follows pretty much necessarily that an adequate explanation will also be complex.

Notice that a truly naturalistic explanation would "explain away" rather than explaining. Naturalism has no room for axiology. It is meaningless to say that the pain of cancer is "an evil." It's just something that happens. There is nothing particularly bad about cancer, on naturalism, any more than there is something particularly good about human love or artistic genius.

So naturalism is a non-starter as an explanation if we are to take the problem of suffering seriously in the first place.

The evidence, therefore, leads quite naturally to some notion that "things were meant to be one way but something went wrong," etc. A sort of "poor man's Manicheean dualism" would be a rather understandable direction to go if one had no evidence from special revelation, unless one were able to argue philosophically for the conclusion that evil is a privation. But aside from that philosophical question, the point is that the evidence itself forces us to hypothesize something much like the Judeo-Christian idea that something originally good has been marred, that there is a conflict (in some sense) between good and evil, that there are causes at work that have brought about both genuinely good, valuable outcomes and genuinely tragic and undesirable outcomes.

Hence, in relation to the whole set of evidence regarding goods and evils, suffering, beauty, and joy, a theodicy involving a being like Satan, a human fall, conflict, etc., is not problematically complex relative to any other hypothesis that has a similar hope of explaining the complexity of the evidence itself.

What the problem of evil greatly disconfirms is a kind of Generic Pollyanna Theism according to which not only is God good, but that is all that there is to be said about the matter. But almost nobody (except maybe Joel Osteen followers) believes Pollyanna Theism, just as almost nobody believes in a Simple Mother, because of the complexity of the evidence itself.

If you are a non-theist, you're also going to have some 'splainin' to do, because Simple Atheism will be of very little help relative to the richness of the evidence of goodness and badness in nature.

Simplicity is indeed a theoretical virtue. But it does not even begin to follow that we should believe in a simple world. That would be simple-minded.

A new use of the Euthyphro dilemma

 

A new use of the Euthyphro dilemma

(Originally published at What's Wrong With the World. Link to original post at 'permalink' below.) 

My specialty is not philosophy of religion but rather epistemology. No doubt the following argument has already been made by someone or other in the history of philosophy, but it may be useful to someone else precisely because it refrains from some of the more (to my mind) esoteric concepts in the philosophy of religion. This argument will make no use of phrases like "no distinction between essence and existence" or "metaphysically simple." Whether the concepts are there under some other guise I leave for the reader to judge, but the idea is that the argument will be accessible to those, including myself, who don't find some of those Thomistic notions helpful. It will become fairly clear that this argument owes a bit more to Platonism than to Aristotelianism.

So here goes:

To show, by reductio ad absurdam, that there cannot be an evil being who is the self-existent First Cause of all else.

Suppose that there were an evil being who was the self-existent First Cause of everything other than himself.

Then, there must be such a thing as the Good, independent of this evil being, against which this evil being sets himself, which he hates and rejects, for otherwise it would be meaningless to say that this being is evil.

The Good, therefore, is conceptually and metaphysically prior to the evil being.

The Good cannot be of the essence of the evil being's very nature, for if that were the case, it would be meaningless to speak of his rejecting and rebelling against it.

Therefore, since the Good which he hates is greater than he is and exists independently of him, the evil being is not actually the self-existent First Cause of everything else.

We have derived a contradiction from the supposition that there could be an evil being who is the self-existent First Cause of all else. Therefore, we conclude that there cannot be an evil being who is the self-existent First Cause of all else.

QED

The resemblance to the Euthyphro dilemma is fairly clear. One horn of the Euthyphro dilemma is that, if God (or "the gods" in Plato) loves the Good because it is the Good independent of himself, then the Good is greater than God. (The other horn is that goodness is arbitrary if we merely call it "the good" because it happens to be what the gods love.) The traditional Christian response to the challenge is to postulate a tertium quid--namely, that Goodness is real and is of the very essence of God's nature, not outside of Himself. Therefore, it is impossible that God should love that which is evil, but not because God is holding Himself to some standard outside of Himself. That response, as noted in the argument, is not available if one is postulating an evil First Cause, since the will of the evil First Cause is contrary to the Good.

It may be of some minor interest to readers to know that I got thinking about this by using the analogy of a human being who maliciously wills to make computer viruses. I proposed that analogy in a Facebook discussion and got some useful responses. Obviously, the will of the malicious hacker is an evil will, and he may be a real genius at creating computer viruses. This seems like a counterexample to a principle such as, "Evil cannot create," which might be used to counter the possibility of an evil First Cause. It then occurred to me, however, that the concept of a computer that runs correctly is necessary for the creation of a virus that harms the computer. In fact, a computer virus couldn't be instantiated in the real world at all and fulfill its unpleasant telos if there weren't some computer for it to attack. Therefore, the proper function of computers is both conceptually and metaphysically prior to computer viruses. Hence, the will of the creator of a computer virus, as a will to do evil, is derivative--it is a will to harm and subvert something good whose goodness is a reality independent of his desire to harm it. His "creativity" itself, therefore, takes a form that is derivative, parasitic upon the goodness he wishes to undermine or destroy.

That thought then inspired the analogy to the Euthyphro dilemma.

See what you think, gents.

More on arguments from signs and wonders

 

More on arguments from signs and wonders

(Originally published at What's Wrong With the World. Link to original post at 'permalink' below.) 

This is a follow-up to this post. To some extent it will be repetitive of what was in that post, and I beg the reader's indulgence for that repetition. But the argument I am answering has surfaced yet again (never mind where), and it just has so many things wrong with it that I have decided to take another whack at it, in the hopes of unconfusing anybody else who has been confused by it.

The argument goes roughly like this. (No, I'm not precisely quoting anyone. I am paraphrasing.)

Suppose that God revealed himself by a sign or wonder, such as by speaking from the heavens, by raising Jesus from the dead, or even by putting some words into an unlikely place, such as writing "Yahweh alone is God" in the stars or in the cell. Such an event would not be taken by an atheist to be from God. The atheist would decide that both he and everyone reporting the event to him were massively hallucinating rather than conclude that the event was really evidence of the existence of God. Hence, signs and wonders can be evidence of the activity of God only to those who already believe on other grounds that God exists. Therefore, they do not constitute independent evidence that God exists. Therefore, we shouldn't make arguments first to atheists from signs and wonders. Instead, we should convince them first that God exists by arguments such as philosophical arguments from natural theology.

Let me try to break down a few of the many things wrong with this argument.

First, this argument wrongly assumes that something cannot constitute independent reason to believe something I already believe. That isn't true. Suppose that I get ten e-mails that appear to be from my friend Jeff. Regardless of what order the e-mails come in, each one provides some independent reason to believe that Jeff exists. It is not as though, once I already believe it, the new e-mails no longer provide independent reason for believing in his existence. That probability just gets higher and higher as I receive additional e-mails. It's true that I'm more prone to conclude that a new e-mail is from Jeff if I already believe that Jeff really exists and isn't a spam-bot, but it doesn't follow that the additional e-mails are doing no work to support the proposition, "Jeff exists" simply because they happen to come later in the series. In fact, they obviously do provide additional reason to believe that Jeff exists, a reason that has its own force.

Second, this argument, consistently applied, would have made it impossible for the revelation of Yahweh to "get off the ground" with the people of Israel, because it would always have required previous evidence for Yahweh's existence before His self-revelation could get started. What we find in Scripture is that God revealed Himself to His people by signs and wonders from the outset. They didn't require or receive a philosophical prolegomenon. Rather, God was the God who brought them up out of the land of Egypt and out of the house of bondage. God made the bush burn. God told Moses to make it clear to the people that he was truly a messenger by giving Moses the power to do signs and wonders. If it were never possible to take signs and wonders to be from God if one didn't have a philosophical prolegomenon, then the specific revelation of Yahweh could never have happened.

This has a parallel in human relationships. Take the example above concerning e-mails. If I always had to have previous evidence that Jeff exists before accepting any e-mail as being from Jeff, the correspondence couldn't get started. I would be justified in dismissing the first e-mail as possibly being from a spam-bot or being a hallucination because I was previously a "Jeff agnostic" or "Jeff skeptic" and didn't know about Jeff's existence. Jeff's revelation of himself to me could never get off the ground.

Third, this argument confuses the direction a piece of evidence points with the conclusion one draws. I realize that this is a slightly technical point, but let me try to make it clear by examples. Suppose that I have a very negative view, based on previous evidence, of Joe's character. I've decided that Joe is just manipulative and utterly self-serving. Then along comes my shrewd friend Bill who tells me a credible-sounding story of Joe's behaving with apparent altruism within Bill's own knowledge.

Perhaps I do not conclude either that I've been wrong about Joe or that Joe has reformed. Perhaps I remain skeptical. Perhaps I hold open the possibility that Bill has been duped by a clever plan of Joe's to make himself look good. However, if Bill gives me a sufficiently detailed account of an apparently purely altruistic act, that is some evidence that points in the direction of Joe's good character. I may reasonably hold out for more evidence before changing my mind (because I did have evidence before of Joe's bad character), but my probability concerning the proposition, "Joe is right now simply a self-serving jerk" should, rationally, shift because of the evidence that Bill brings.

It's important not to think that a piece of evidence must do all the work on its own, that it must be enough to make a skeptic conclude that God exists or to draw some other conclusion against which he previously believed himself to have some evidence, in order to realize that the evidence points away from the skeptic's previous position and should cause the skeptic's probabilities to change. That is the point of a cumulative case. Different arguments and pieces of evidence do their work, and the reasonable skeptic can change his mind gradually as a result of the accumulated evidence coming in. Therefore, to say that a skeptic will not conclude that God exists from a report of a miracle should not be taken to mean that the report does not point in the direction of God's existence and that it should have no impact upon the skeptic.

Fourth and perhaps most importantly, this argument conflates what a skeptic will or might do with what a skeptic may rationally do. The former is psychology and sociology. The latter is epistemology. We mustn't conflate the two. It may well be true that a particular skeptic "would not be persuaded though one should rise from the dead." It may well be true that such a skeptic will adopt any wild, ad hoc theory rather than believe that a miracle has taken place. But this is a statement about that skeptic's psychology, not about what is rational. Is he rational to be willing to believe anything, including a lot of independent people's mass hallucination, rather than believe that a miracle has taken place? No. That would be a desperate theory rescue for his own naturalism, and we shouldn't imply that it is anything better.

In fact, there are plenty of objections--good, bad, and ugly--that have been raised against various metaphysical arguments for God's existence. If we are just talking about what a skeptic will do or might do, it could just as easily be predicted that he will bring up this or that objection and reject those arguments as well! Why not? If we're willing to postulate a skeptic so stubborn and determined that he'd rather believe that he and everyone else is hallucinating rather than believe that a miracle has happened, he can easily, in fact probably more easily, come up with some "reason" to reject all of Aquinas's Five Ways!

But if we are talking about what is rational, if we are doing epistemology rather than psychology and sociology, then we should recognize that detailed, credible evidence of miracles does support the existence of God and that a skeptic who will do anything rather than take such evidence seriously is being irrational.

It would be difficult to over-stress the importance of this last point. It is simply facile to say or even to imply that, if an atheist will or could reject an argument for Christianity that one doesn't favor (or that one thinks needs to be kept in its place, meaning subordinate to or subsequent to one's own favored arguments), this means the argument is no good. Everyone can play at that game. I can pick any argument for God's existence or for Christianity and drum up an extremely plausible scenario in which an atheist dismisses it stubbornly. But if he's being unreasonable to do so, that's the important point for the epistemology of religion. Arguments can never overcome the human will to disbelieve if that will is strong enough. Man can use his free will to warp and confuse his own mind, to dismiss things that shouldn't be dismissed. That is a sign of the will to evil, the fall of mankind, sin nature. It isn't a defect in the arguments.

It should be obvious that a person who would rather believe that he is hallucinating all the reports than believe that there is some evidence that Jesus rose from the dead is being unreasonable. It is no help to the cause of Christ to bring up such wild scenarios, point out that a skeptic could adopt them, and then use that as a club against the argument from miracles.

Finally, one more small epistemological point: If the argument from miracles has no independent force, it doesn't magically acquire it for a person who already believes that God exists. This is extremely confused. It isn't possible to deny all independent force to the argument from miracles and then to try to revive its force for the person who is already a theist. This would be like saying that an e-mail that appears to be from my friend Jeff has no force in favor of his existence if I don't already believe that he exists on some non-e-mail basis and then to turn around and say that, voila, it really has some kind of unspecified epistemic value for me once I already believe in his existence. Epistemology doesn't work that way. Be careful: If you work hard to argue that an argument is forceless when you don't want it, you can't expect to whistle the argument up later like an obedient dog when you do want it.

Consider: The Jews believed that they had independent evidence that Jesus could not be who He said He was. Why weren't they justified, despite (and in a sense because of) their Judaic theism, in believing that they were hallucinating the reports of Jesus' resurrection rather than conclude that they had been wrong and that Jesus really was the Son of God? Why not? What is sauce for the atheist goose is sauce for the 1st century Jewish gander. If we're going to place all the weight on one's independent, prior probabilities and "diss" the argument from miracles, then it is arbitrary to say that the evidence for a miracle should rationally overcome one's prejudice in favor of a contrary religious presupposition but cannot possibly rationally tell against a person's contrary irreligious presupposition.

As I have said many times before, evidence is evidence. Take it or leave it. Don't try to make it dance to your own tune.

If everything is holy, nothing is holy

 

If everything is holy, nothing is holy

(Originally published at What's Wrong With the World. Link to original post at 'permalink' below.) 

One of my Facebook friends recently shared, with approval, Minnesota folk singer Peter Mayer's song "Holy Now." The lyrics are here.

When I was a boy, each week
On Sunday, we would go to church
And pay attention to the priest
He would read the holy word
And consecrate the holy bread
And everyone would kneel and bow
Today the only difference is
Everything is holy now
Everything, everything
Everything is holy now

When I was in Sunday school
We would learn about the time
Moses split the sea in two
Jesus made the water wine
And I remember feeling sad
That miracles don't happen still
But now I can't keep track
'Cause everything's a miracle
Everything, Everything
Everything's a miracle

Wine from water is not so small
But an even better magic trick
Is that anything is here at all
So the challenging thing becomes
Not to look for miracles
But finding where there isn't one

When holy water was rare at best
It barely wet my fingertips
But now I have to hold my breath
Like I'm swimming in a sea of it
It used to be a world half there
Heaven's second rate hand-me-down
But I walk it with a reverent air
'Cause everything is holy now
Everything, everything
Everything is holy now

Read a questioning child's face
And say it's not a testament
That'd be very hard to say
See another new morning come
And say it's not a sacrament
I tell you that it can't be done

This morning, outside I stood
And saw a little red-winged bird
Shining like a burning bush
Singing like a scripture verse
It made me want to bow my head
I remember when church let out
How things have changed since then
Everything is holy now
It used to be a world half-there
Heaven's second rate hand-me-down
But I walk it with a reverent air
'Cause everything is holy now

Compare them with his even more pointedly titled "Church of the Earth" lyrics linked from here.

Here's a little info.:

PETER MAYER is a well-known American singer-songwriter. His song "Holy Now" has become a beloved standard in liberal church contexts and was the title entry of the 2006 Songbook of the Association of Unity Churches. Peter's "Blue Boat Home" gained a place in the supplementary hymnal of the Unitarian Universalist Association.

In 2006 Peter began collaborating with photographer/videographer Connie Barlow to render the particular songs that highlight evolutionary and ecological themes into captioned video formats ideal for contemplative viewing or sing-along in churches and spiritual centers.

I trust that is clear enough, if you didn't get it from the song lyrics themselves. (Interesting terminological note: Evidently some liberals use "liberal" as a term of approval among themselves.) If you are curious, earth worship features prominently in the above-mentioned universalist "hymn," "Blue Boat Home." Lyrics linked from here.

Why do otherwise sensible and orthodox Christian people occasionally fall for this kind of "everything is a miracle, everything is holy, nothing is any more special than anything else" universalist shtick? What is it about a kind of spiritual egalitarianism of things and events that is so attractive that blatant, in-your-face pantheism and anti-Christianity goes unnoticed in the same lyric? (Gotta love the reference to orthodox Christianity as "heaven's second-rate hand-me-down.")

It's only fair to admit that Mayer is a talented lyricist, so there's that. I think, too, that many Christians are looking for profundity and mysticism, and saying that "everything is holy" seems to answer that need. And saying that a little red-winged bird shines like a burning bush could be taken in isolation to mean that the creation manifests God's glory.

The problem is just that the sweeping, profound-sounding statement is false. Everything is not holy. A Black Mass is not holy. A demon is not holy. Methamphetamine is not holy. An instrument of torture is not holy. A murder is not holy. There is good and bad and right and wrong. Some acts are holy and some are evil. Some symbols stand for good and beautiful things while others stand for evil things. Some objects or substances have no function or point but the bad function for which they were deliberately made.

We can even take it up a notch by moving away from acts and symbols of evil to things that are neutral in themselves. If you insist on saying that every bit of dirt is holy, you should at least have the theological capacity to say that a bit of dirt is not holy in the same sense that the Blessed Sacrament is holy. The dirt is also not holy in the same sense that a saintly human being is holy. And the saintly ordinary human being, not being God Incarnate, is not holy in precisely the same sense, or at least not to the same degree, that Jesus Christ is holy. Even Christian mysticism must be held together and made coherent by hierarchical structure.

Furthermore, if there is not God, who is absolutely holy, and who is strongly Other than and separate from His Creation, then nothing can be holy at all. A radical anti-egalitarianism, a radical separation between Creator and creature, is a necessary condition for the possibility of meaningful holiness. The "holiness" of pantheism is merely everything-ness. It's a faux holiness that actually turns all theological categories into a giant egalitarian mush. Mayer, being an artist, can dress it up pretty nicely, but he can't make it other than what it is. God's presence can infuse glory into the smallest grain of sand only if God is God, if God is a real, personal Being (not "the All" or the Force), and only if the sand is part of God's creation. The omnipresence of the Judeo-Christian God is sharply different from the pantheist universalism of Peter Mayer's lyrics. Indeed, I would go so far as to say that the two concepts are opposed to each other.

Now, about miracles: However sweet it may sound to say that everything that happens is a miracle, that is also false. And again, as with holiness, so here: If everything is a miracle, nothing is a miracle. The concept of a miracle is meaningful only if there is a contrast class of events that form the natural order, i.e., not miracles. (See also the discussion in this comment.) Every drop of rain that falls is not a miracle. Every flower that grows is not a miracle. Though it is true that we wouldn't have drops of rain if God had not made the heavens and the earth and all that is in the beginning by the Word of His power, and though we wouldn't have flowers if God hadn't made the first flowers, the growth of the flower now and the fall of the raindrop now are not miracles now. When Jesus rose from the dead, that was a miracle. When Peter was released by an angel from prison (today's Scripture reading for the Feast of St. Peter), that was a miracle. When Christians were martyred and their bodies decomposed and formed soil for the crops to grow, that was not a miracle.

Sometimes the only way to guard true mysticism and profundity is to seem to run in the opposite direction. I make no claim to be a mystic; far from it. But it seems to me evident that somewhere along the road to a true understanding of God, even by that way of darkness, lies clarity, not vagueness and muddle.

There are crossroads that come up in our thinking about God, and woe betide us if we take the wrong turn. If we are to honor God with our minds, we should see always at those crucial places where the ways part between truth and error an angel with a burning sword held aloft. And from his lips there comes a cry:

"Distinguo!"

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Some philosophy of religion for your week

Some philosophy of religion for your week




(Originally published at What's Wrong With the World. Link to original post at 'permalink' below.)

I've been doing a little debating over on Facebook recently regarding divine timelessness, and it seemed that W4 readers might like to get in on the discussion. My own position is the Boethian position--namely, that God is timeless, except insofar as God the Son was made man.

I've always been a Boethian, ever since I understood the issue. It seems to fit well with much of Scripture, though not to be absolutely necessitated by Scripture. The position fits exceptionally well with the Einsteinian intertwining of space and time, since obviously God, as a spirit, is not essentially a spatial being. It provides a good way to comprehend divine omniscience regarding the future, and it is consonant with the general idea that God transcends all created things. The position has a lot of advantages.

However, I know that not everyone agrees. William Lane Craig, for example, holds that God has been timeless aside from creation, but that with the creation of the world God came to be "in time," a position that I admit I don't really understand.
One argument for divine temporality, at least "since" creation, goes approximately like this:

1. Any cause must either precede or be simultaneous with its effect.

2. The act of God's will that brings about a miracle is a cause of the miracle.

3. God sometimes does miracles.

Therefore,

4. The act of God's will that brings about a miracle must either precede or be simultaneous with the miracle.

Therefore,

5. The act of God's will that brings about a miracle must be in time.

6. If an act of God's will is in time, then God is in time.

Therefore,

7. God is in time.

I can think of a couple of places at which one could question this argument. Here is an analogy that seems to me to raise doubts about premise 1.

Suppose that I am writing a story that includes a car accident. Thinking about my car accident scene one evening, I decide that I will add to the story and have one of my characters, Joe, get a sudden craving for Starbucks coffee, which will motivate him to go to a certain part of town, thus bringing him to the accident scene in time to be a witness of the accident. I get up, go to my computer, and write in this addition to the story.

I have just caused Joe, in my story, to come to the Starbucks and be a witness of the accident. Did my causal act precede or come simultaneously with Joe's sudden urge to buy a Starbucks coffee? It seems to me that the obvious answer is that it did neither. To say that it did would be to put me in the story and to put my acts into the timeline of the story. In terms of my timelessness vis a vis the story, that would be to assume what is to be proved. But it also simply seems an incorrect analysis. I, as author, am not carrying out my authorial acts within the world of the story at all but rather within my own world. Hence it is meaningless to say that my act of causing Joe to have a desire for coffee came before or didn't come before his desire, as that desire is imagined to occur in the story. The question simply makes no sense, because my acts in my own mind and even my acts on the computer are strictly non-comparable to the timeline of events in Joe's story.

Premise 1 seems to be intended to rule out backwards causation in time, which I'm quite willing to grant is impossible. But if we revised premise 1 to say instead merely, "No cause may come after its effect," we wouldn't be able to get the argument off the ground, for the Boethian isn't claiming that God's causal acts come after their effects in the created world.

So it seems to me that the possibility remains open that acts from an infinite, transcendent being upon a finite universe are an exception to the usual rule expressed in premise 1, though that rule may well be correct for finite-finite causal events.

Have fun, chaps.