Tag Archive for: philosophy

By Terrell Clemmons

A Framework for Mapping Reality & Engaging Ideological Confusion.

“Science is more than a body of knowledge. It’s a way of thinking,” said Carl Sagan in the last interview he gave before his death in 1996 at age 62. Sagan and Charlie Rose were discussing Sagan’s last book, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark, and the danger that America’s deficiency in basic science posed for future generations. People in positions of power, they agreed, as well as the electorates who put them there must have a correct understanding of “the way the universe really is” and not be informed by doctrines that “make us feel good.” “If we are not able to ask skeptical questions, to interrogate those who tell us that something is true,” Sagan stressed, “then we’re up for grabs for the next charlatan, political or religious, who comes ambling along.” The upshot of it all was that science, rather than demons or doctrines, must be the “candle” that lights our way to the future.

Sagan is best known as the author and host of the 1980 PBS series Cosmos: A Personal Voyage, which was the most widely watched PBS series of the 1980s. His legacy lives on in the 2014 Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey, which aimed to capture for a new generation the “spirit of the original Cosmos,” according to host Neil deGrasse Tyson. Building on the popularity of the original, Tyson explained, the 21st-century remake would “present science in a way that has meaning to you, that could influence your conduct as a citizen of the nation and of the world—especially of the world.”

Salvo readers should be familiar with the concept of agenda-driven science, and to those who listen with an ear to discern it, it’s clear that Sagan, Rose, and Tyson are using science as they understand it to advance an agenda—to influence the way people think, with the aim of changing their behavior. This is the stuff of propaganda, and like most propaganda, Cosmos served up a slickly produced package of truths, half-truths, and subtle lies, skillfully laced with running undercurrents of moralistic appeals to emotion.

How does one respond to wholesale agendas like this without coming off as an abject contrarian? Try the worldview reset.

Worldview Reset

In How Now Shall We Live? (1999), Nancy Pearcey and Charles Colson laid out a framework for worldview analysis that can be applied to any narrative, idea, or agenda that comes ambling along. Here’s how it goes: Any worldview must provide an answer to three questions:

Who am I, and where did I come from? This is the question of origins.

What is wrong with the world? This is the question of the problem.

How can it be fixed? This is the question of the remedy.

Put through this filter, Christianity can answer each question in one word: Creationfall, and redemptionGodsin, and Christ or the cross would work equally well. The point is not to nail down precise terminology, but to sketch out the main points on the biblical map of reality. Christianity is not just a relationship with Jesus, or adherence to a set of doctrines or rules, or association with a religious institution. Those things may have their place, but it’s more than that. Christianity is a full-orbed, comprehensive worldview that puts forth testable truth claims about all of reality.

The same framework, then, can serve as a test for coolly analyzing alternative worldviews. All agendas operate according to some worldview, and our first objective in the face of one should be to identify it. In the case of Sagan and Tyson, this is straightforward. They’re scientific naturalists. But even if we didn’t know that, we could figure it out from the grandiose opening to the original Cosmos, where Sagan intoned, “The cosmos is all that is, or ever was, or ever will be.” From there, given the title of his book and his discussion with Rose, we can see that the problem they diagnose in the world stems from authorities and doctrines that are unscientific. Following through, the remedy they prescribe is for people to question those authorities, reject those doctrines, and think “scientifically,” just like they do.

Popularized through folksy celebrities like Tyson and Bill Nye “the Science Guy,” this materialistic narrative, along with its socio-moral dictates, is just one of the subliminal narratives that have become deeply entrenched in our culture.

First Things First: The Question of Origins

In practice, worldviews tend to bleed together, but the most prevalent ones in the developed world today are: scientific naturalism, which says that God is effectively nonexistent; postmodernism, which says that the question of God is unanswerable or irrelevant because cultures make up their own stories; pantheism, which identifies God with nature or the universe and then sees in nature a myriad of non-transcendent deities; and Judeo-Christianity, which says that there is one transcendent God who created the universe and everything in it.

It is supremely important to note that, of these, the Judeo-Christian worldview is the only one that is actually theistic. It alone, along with its offshoot Islam, answers the question of origins with a self-existing God. All the others are non-theistic. They amount to some form of philosophical naturalism and then try to explain all of reality, including human history, behavior, and culture, within those limits.

In 2016-2017 Morgan Freeman hosted a National Geographic series on religion called The Story of God, in which he traveled the world asking people of different faiths how they viewed death, evil, the afterlife, and other matters related to religion. The series was visually stunning, but its name is actually a misnomer. It was really a “story of a man”— a professed atheist attempting to explain the panoply of human experience within the confines of naturalism. Freeman’s worldview governed his interpretation of all the incoming data, and viewers who don’t understand that at the outset will likely find the series confusing.

Worldview and Ideologies

The concept of worldview is closely related to the concept of ideology, but the two are not quite the same thing. Every ideology is born of a worldview, but not every worldview is an ideology. Dictionary.com defines ideology as a body of doctrine, myth, or belief that guides an individual, group, or movement, together with a socio-political plan and devices for implementing it. In simpler terms, an ideology is an idea that has been elevated to worldview status and then activated into an agenda.

Let’s look at a few ideologies that are dominant today and identify the worldview behind them. Broadly speaking, environmentalism is an ideology that begins with philosophical naturalism, diagnoses the problem in the world as human mismanagement of the earth’s resources, and then prescribes changes to resource management, usually to be implemented by the government. Marxism, too, begins with naturalism, but it diagnoses the problem in terms of some kind of inequality between people groups. From there, it prescribes as the remedy some form of equalization, also usually to be implemented by the government.

Sexual ideologies grew out of Freud’s naturalism-based diagnosis that human problems stem from sexual repression, and they accordingly prescribe a remedy of casting off restraint. And, for an example of how ideologies bleed together, LGBT demands for “equality” effectively fuse the Freudian and Marxian diagnoses of the problem and then demand equalization for “sexual minorities” with respect to such social benefits as moral approval and state-endorsed marriage.

Interrogating the Disconnect

When one is confronted with a pre-assembled agenda masquerading as a good idea, applying the three-point worldview framework will facilitate dialogue in a way that clarifies, rather than clouds, the conflict. The framework does this by keeping attention on the incoming worldview and examining its truth claims. To use Sagan’s terminology, we interrogate it —Where is this idea coming from? What unstated presuppositions lie behind it?—with the goal of mapping the worldview disconnect and then peacefully shifting the discussion to the actual point of contention.

This can revolutionize a conflict in two ways. First, it draws all ideas out into the open. I was recently invited to participate in an informal roundtable discussion with Ben, a college student majoring in philosophy. When asked about my worldview, I answered within the three-point framework: GodsinChrist. He liked that structure and used it to articulate his worldview as well: evolutiondogmabetter science education—right in line with the Sagan-Tyson synthesis. Then he elaborated. Scientists aren’t doing enough to educate the public about what they know, he said, particularly with respect to the beginning of the universe and the origin of the first living things.

Now, if you’ve been reading Salvo for any length of time, you know why scientists aren’t providing these explanations. It’s because they don’t exist. And our discussion exposed this and other gaping holes in Ben’sworldview that are being filled with a materialistic version of faith.

Second, a worldview reset can reorient a potentially contentious dialogue. With most conflicts regarding secular ideologies, the disconnect is, at root, a clash between the theistic and non-theistic foundations. This can be the case even if both sides are invoking biblical imagery.

For example, sexual ideologies are often pushed with slogans like, “Jesus would accept gays and transgenders.” That may be true, but if Jesus is going to be invoked, then it’s fair and intellectually honest to redirect the discussion to the question of worldview foundation. If the Judeo-Christian God created humanity male and female and instituted marriage, then certain implications for sexuality follow from that. If not, then anything goes.

The relevant point for discussion would be, Which worldview foundation are we starting from? Is it Christian theism? Or is it some form of philosophical naturalism? If naturalism, then moral dictates based on what Jesus may or may not have done are irrelevant. Furthermore (and worse for the naturalist), in naturalism, morality is an ungrounded, arbitrary chimera. Whenever possible, then, ideologues, whether sexual, environmental or otherwise, should be pressed to grapple with the full implications of their worldview foundation. This is not rhetorical tit for tat. Wisely executed, it’s an act of Christian love.

Practical Peacemaking

Another entrenched narrative out there says that truth claims are the source of human conflict. But a worldview reset can actually be a move toward peace. Family counselor Beverly Buncher created a communication strategy for families of addicts called BALM—Be A Loving Mirror. It involves remaining calm in heated situations and, as lovingly as possible, reflecting back your opponent’s thoughts and emotions. The objective is to stay in the relationship, grounded in your own reasoned composure, in hopes of serving over time as a peacemaking, transformative presence for your loved one.

Both the worldview filter and the BALM approach are powerful aids for remapping ideological impasses and bridging relational divides. More important, they provide a setting for illuminating truth.

 


Terrell Clemmons is a freelance writer and blogger on apologetics and matters of faith.

This article was originally published at salvomag.com: http://bit.ly/2zJGiBe

By Terrell Clemmons

It’s Time to Remit Darwinian Storytelling to the Annals of History.

Stephen Meyer was a young geophysicist working in the oil industry in Dallas, Texas, in 1985 when he saw that an interesting science conference was coming to town and he decided to drop in. During a panel discussion on the origin of the first living things, Charles Thaxton, a highly credentialed chemist, noted that the information stored in DNA could not be explained by chemical evolutionary processes. This was generally known already and uncontroversial. But Thaxton ventured a step further by suggesting that the information could point to an intelligent cause. This was a reasonable inference, Thaxton said because, in our regular human experience, we know that information is typically attributable to intelligent causes.

This struck Meyer as both intuitive and plausible. But what really piqued his interest was the heated reaction of some of the other scientists at this suggestion. They got really personal. Some criticized Thaxton’s intellect; others, his motives, as if he’d broken some unwritten convention. What was with all this emotion? Meyer wondered. He’d always thought scientists were objective professionals who coolly looked at data and followed the evidence. This was an interesting problem.

The encounter led to some follow-up discussions with Thaxton and a burning new question, which Meyer would take with him to Cambridge University a year later: Could this idea of intelligence—or intelligent design—be made into a rigorous scientific argument?

But during his first year there, an after-lecture social gathering brought home a sobering reality. Everyone at Cambridge was openly atheistic. In fact, atheism was so preemptively the assumed worldview that theism was not even on the table. Meyer not only believed in God; he was a Christian. Clearly, this could be a lonely work environment, and the widespread atheism around him could present obstacles to collaborations on this question. But he took heart in remembering the great scientists of history whose science had been specifically driven by their Christian worldview.

The Closed Darwinian Circle

Science writer Tom Bethell, who had arrived at sister university Oxford about twenty-five years prior, experienced a similarly disappointing revelation. He’d arrived at Oxford “naively imagining that philosophy taught us the meaning of life.” It didn’t.

But Bethell later came to see its usefulness. Many problems in philosophy had flourished, he discovered, because the words used to formulate theories weren’t clearly defined. Sometimes, he further realized, the vagaries seemed to be intentional. Bethell would go on to a long career as a philosophically astute journalist, brilliantly clarifying and parsing some of the most crucial enigmas of public life and history.

Case in point: Charles Darwin’s central postulate said that the diversity of biological life on earth could be explained by natural selection operating on random variations. Herbert Spencer, a contemporary of Darwin, summarized this notion as “survival of the fittest.” The phrase stuck, and today, Darwin’s postulate reigns as the grand unifying theory of established science.

But was there an inherent problem with it, philosophically, from the very start? “Doubts about evolution first arose in my mind when I looked at the title page of The Origin of Species,” Bethell wrote.

I read, and then reread that page:

On the Origin of Species

by Means of Natural Selection

or the

preservation of favoured races

in the struggle for life

by Charles Darwin, M.A.

1859

The words ‘preservation’ and ‘favoured’ stood out. Was there any way of knowing what ‘races’ (meaning species, or individual variants) were favored other than by looking to see which ones were in fact preserved?

This was no pedantic quibble. For if there truly is no way of determining what is “fit” other than by seeing what survives, then Darwin was arguing in a self-confirming circle: the survival of the survivors. In rhetorical terms, this is what’s called a tautology—a statement that is true by definition, due to the construction of the language by which it is expressed. In effect, Darwin’s proposed mechanism—natural selection—rested on the observation that, “Survivors survive.” To which any clear-thinking middle-school student might say, “Well, duh.”

Curating History

Beginning with this observation, Bethell’s latest book examines the dialogue that has taken place among scientists since the publication of The Origin. But rather than giving us a chronological point-counterpoint synopsis of it, Bethell presents a kind of “tour” of the topics over which the debate has been hashed out—the “rooms,” if you will, of the 150-plus-year-old house of Darwin: common descent, natural selection, the fossil record, information theory, evolutionary psychology, artificial intelligence, the growing intelligent design movement, and more.

The upshot of it all is captured in his title: Darwin’s House of Cards: A Journalist’s Odyssey Through the Darwin Debates. Darwinism is an idea past its prime, he concludes, one whose collapse is inevitable and is in fact already demonstrably underway.

Examining a Theory and Its Theorist

He states that forthrightly, but also backs it up with characteristically sound logic—examining, like a museum curator, Darwin’s various claims in light of both mounting new evidence against them and the ongoing lack of evidence supporting them. Room by room, he shows how evolutionary theory today is being propped up by logical fallacies, bogus claims, and outdated empirical evidence that has all but disintegrated under the weight of new discoveries.

In addition to covering the high points of the scientific discussion, Bethell also delves into the man Darwin as he revealed himself through his personal writings. While Darwin was in his own right a legitimate scientist, his theorizing was influenced, inordinately as it turns out, by three ideas of his day: Malthusian economics, Progress, and philosophical materialism.

  • Malthusian Math: Political economist Thomas Malthus had speculated that when population growth outstrips food supply, then death by starvation would result in some sectors of society but not others. Darwin had read Malthus, and he simply transferred the calculus of overpopulation to the plant and animal kingdom. “It at once struck me that under these circumstances favorable variations would tend to be preserved, and unfavorable ones to be destroyed. The result would be the formation of new species.” Darwin had no evidence of the formation of any new species, though. That was pure extrapolation.
  • Progress: Capitalized to denote the philosophy as it existed in his day, “Progress” was the reigning metanarrative in post-Enlightenment England, the all-encompassing, assumed a trajectory of reality. It was “as difficult for him to escape as the air he breathed,” wrote Bethell, and Darwin was a confirmed believer. The word “evolution” doesn’t actually appear in The Origin. He referred rather to improvement, progress, and perfection, in the end, writing that “all corporeal and mental endowments will tend to progress toward perfection.”
  • Materialism: Darwin himself was a full-blown materialist, but he avoided outwardly confessing the extent of his belief. He’d worked out his theory by 1837, but didn’t go public with it for more than twenty years, partly because the 1830s climate of opinion was highly unfavorable to materialism. Even at publication in 1859, he still didn’t deploy it consistently in The Origin, but rather strategically and progressively invoked it over the course of six editions.

Darwin’s metaphysical outlook was not a deduction from his science, though, but was influenced by his theology. He raised theological issues in several of his writings, and Bethell devotes an entire chapter to his evolving religious views. Two points are worth mentioning here. In his autobiography, Darwin mentioned being “heartily laughed at” for quoting the Bible while on the H.M.S. Beagle. We can only speculate about the psychological effect of this incident, but it obviously affected him enough to write about it forty years later. Afterward, he reconsidered the Bible’s place in his view of the world and concluded it was “no more to be trusted than the sacred books of the Hindoos, or the beliefs of any barbarian.”

In addition, like many in insulated societies, he took issue with God over the problem of evil and suffering, ultimately deciding that the concept of an all-loving and all-powerful God could not be reconciled with the reality of misery in the world. “Thus disbelief crept over me at a very slow rate, but was at last complete.”

More a product of their theorist and the zeitgeist, then, than of science, Darwin’s postulates found easy acceptance among an elite intelligentsia predisposed to believe in materialism and Progress. Sadly, liberal clergy went along without objection or concern.

Straightening Out Bad Philosophy

Molecular biologist Jonathan Wells concurs with Bethell that Darwinian evolution is one long argument bolstering an a priori metaphysics. In Zombie Science: More Icons of Evolution, he gives three common definitions of science: (1) empirical science is the enterprise of seeking truth by formulating hypotheses and testing them against evidence; (2) technological science comprises the advances that have enriched modern life; and (3) establishment science consists of professionals conducting research. These can all be legitimate uses of the word.

In addition, though, he notes, some people have come to define science as (4) the enterprise of providing natural explanations for everything. But this would more accurately be called methodological naturalism. And while it is true that the methods of empirical science limit the causal explanations, it can confirm or disconfirm to the material realm, to go further and assume that only material causes exist is to assume an unstated claim about metaphysical reality. Furthermore, to do so and call it science constitutes fraud.

Metaphysical Storytelling & the Judgment of History

Fraud aside, it also compromises science. When priority is given to proposing and defending materialistic explanations over following the evidence, materialistic philosophy is running the show. Where this happens (and it does), Wells calls it zombie science. “Evolution is a materialistic story,” he writes, “and since the materialistic story trumps the evidence, it is zombie science.”

Listen to biologist-turned-filmmaker Randy Olsen’s explanation for why he knowingly passed off falsehood in his 2007 film Flock of Dodos: The Evolution-Intelligent Design Circus: “Scientists must realize that science is a narrative process, that narrative is story; therefore science needs story.” This is stunning! What Olson is saying here is that metaphysical storytelling should override accuracy in science reporting.

Returning to Meyer at Cambridge, during his first year, he was granted a second telling revelation when his supervisor offered some unsolicited advice. “Everyone here is bluffing,” the kindly old school don said. “And if you’re to succeed, you must learn to bluff too.”

Fortunately, Meyer opted for personal integrity and legitimate science over bluffing and storytelling and then left it to others to sort things out. Imagine the exhibit in some future Museum of Science and History: Everyone believed the Darwinists, boys, and girls until a few brave scientists concerned with data and following evidence came along and called their bluff.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is a science story worth telling.

 


Terrell Clemmons is a freelance writer and blogger on apologetics and matters of faith.

This article was originally published at salvomag.com: http://bit.ly/2z72XqW

By J. Brian Huffling

Many issues that surround Christian apologetics are philosophical in nature. Thus, if we are going to be good apologists we need to be good philosophers. Evangelical apologists and philosophers typically follow the analytic tradition in philosophy, which seeks to answer individual questions or problems, but it lacks a systematic approach to philosophy. For example, instead of starting with a complete philosophical system from which to make sense of things, analytic philosophers tend to take issues individually without trying to connect them with other issues. A systematic approach tries to tie everything together. There are several weaknesses to taking such an aggregate approach to philosophy. One is that positions on certain issues have a tendency to become ad hoc (sort of made up as they go). A systematic approach is more complete and consistent.

Generally, systematic approaches start with metaphysics (one’s view of reality, what it means to be real, etc.). Without going into all of the underlying metaphysics, which would be another article (book!) in itself, I am going to argue that divine simplicity, which is born out of an Aristotelian metaphysics that was adapted for Christian theology by such thinkers as Thomas Aquinas, is a foundational starting point for our view of God but also offers invaluable help to the practice of Christian apologetics. (I have written an article explaining what divine simplicity is, so if you don’t know, you may want to read the article before proceeding.)

Divine Simplicity Strengthens Christian Apologetics in these Areas:

God’s Existence

When arguing for God’s existence, we are making philosophical claims and arguments. Natural science cannot lead us to God without using philosophical categories and moves. (See my article that argues philosophical arguments for God are better than “scientific” ones.) Those who hold to Aristotelian/Thomistic metaphysics argue that any God arrived at via theistic proofs that do not demonstrate a simple God does not arrive at God period. The reason is that the ultimate cause for all finite being cannot itself be caused, or it wouldn’t be the ultimate cause. There also can’t be an infinite regress of causes in this regard as that is tantamount to having no cause at all. Only a simple God is really God because only a simple God is not composed of parts that need to be put together.

Of course, the notion of divine simplicity doesn’t prove his existence, as that would be circular. My point is that a God that is composed is no God at all. Simplicity then is a conclusion arrived at via metaphysical demonstration regarding God’s existence. (See Thomas Aquinas’ First Way to see how this simple being that is pure existence, or Pure Act, is demonstrated.)

God-talk

If God is thus a simple being, he is very unique. In fact, there is nothing like him. Created being is not like uncreated being. The former is limited, changing, temporal, etc. (except for angels which are in a different category). God is unlimited, unchanging, and eternal. This means that the way we talk about God is not like how we talk about the things in the world. We can know the things in the world directly (for the most part). We know God indirectly through creation. As Paul says in Romans 1, we know about his invisible qualities via the visible creation. Thus, our knowledge of God is not direct, and we must understand that our language does not track him like it tracks the created world. So terms that are applied to creatures don’t mean the same thing when applied to God. In fact, in some ways, they don’t even mean the same thing when applied to other sensible things. For example, when I say something like “my cheeseburger is good,” “my shoes are good,” “my car is good,” or “John is good,” I don’t mean exactly the same thing by “good” in each statement. To be a good cheeseburger is different than to be a good pair of shoes, or car, or person. This is because the concept of “good” is contracted to the referent in question. In other words, the objects have different natures and when I say “x is good” I’m saying that x is a good example of what it means to be a part of that category of things. But the only way we can say something is good is by being able to know the nature of the thing in question. We know cheeseburgers, shoes, cars, and people. However, we don’t have such knowledge of the infinite, uncreated being of God. What does it mean to be a good God? Well, whatever it means, it doesn’t mean that God is good by doing something. He does not measure up to some standard in the way that humans do. To be a good human means that we act the way a human should act. But there is no such scenario with God if he is simple. Humans actualize a potential to be good or virtuous. But God exists necessarily if simplicity is true. He can’t actualize anything since that would make him composed and thus not simple. This way of talking and “knowing” God has profound effects on many issues, including how we understand his attributes, how he relates to us, and the problem of evil.

God’s Attributes

Divine simplicity is foundational for the rest of his attributes. If he is not simple, then he can change, be in time, be affected, etc. In other words, process theology would be true since God would be in a process. This is a flat denial, explicitly or implicitly, of classical/orthodox Christianity. If God is simple, then he is metaphysically perfect, eternal, unchanging, and impassible. Other areas, such as divine omnipotence and omniscience are influenced by simplicity. Whatever divine knowledge would be, if God is simple, then his knowledge could not be passive since that would mean that his knowledge is changing, which requires a composition of what he actually is as opposed to what he could be (e.g., learning new truths). Christian apologetics seeks to defend the traditional God of Christianity. A God of process theology is no such God.

Such a view of God also defends classical theism from views that are held by evangelicals and otherwise mainline Christians. For example, it is in vogue to argue that if God knows changing things like what is going on in the world, then his knowledge is changing and he is thus temporal, changeable, and possible. However, if God is simple, then such cannot be the case. But this view of knowledge supposes that God knows in roughly the same way that humans know. Humans have to “look outside” of themselves and passively receive sense impressions. However, if God is pure act, then he cannot receive anything or be changed in any way. It is this notion of God being a pure act that argues against the notion that God is a bystander just watching the world or creating it and letting it exist on its own apart from him. Such a view is deism. God does not stop being the cause of things after the come into existence. He is the sustaining cause and keeps them in existence. Thus, he doesn’t have to look outside himself in any way. He knows all of creation by knowing himself as the cause of all else that exists. Thus, to know something that is temporal does not make it such that his knowledge must be passive and temporal. Rather, his knowledge is active and even causative. Such distinctions change the contours of philosophical theology, which has an application in apologetics.

Problem of Evil

How can a good God allow evil? This is one of the hardest questions to answer, and it is also probably the most frequently asked question too. Much of the time the question of evil and suffering is brought up against God’s existence since it doesn’t seem like a good God could allow so much evil. One major aspect to this issue is what is known as theodicy, or the justification of God regarding evil. Most evangelicals seem to want to justify God in the face of evil and thereby offer some kind of theodicy. However, if God is simple and a completely different kind of being than humans, we should ask if God is, in fact, a being that can even be good in the moral sense. If he is not a moral being, then offering a theodicy to justify God is a waste of time and also wrongheaded. If simplicity is true, then God is metaphysically perfect in that he is a complete unlimited existence that lacks nothing; but he is not subject to moral standards. He transcends those types of categories. This does not solve every aspect of the problem of evil, but it should show that the argument that a good God wouldn’t allow evil is on the wrong track since God is not subject to moral categories. (See this article on why God is not a moral being and this article on how God is good.)

Conclusion

I hope I have demonstrated that divine simplicity is important not only to a correct philosophical theology but also to apologetics. There are many objections to divine simplicity. I have explained and responded to some of those objections here, so I won’t re-write that material. There are only two views of God: classical theism that maintains divine simplicity, and process theology that denies it.

 


Original Blog Source: http://bit.ly/2PzVkCO

By Evan Minton 

Some well-meaning but very misinformed Christians discourage the study of philosophy on the basis of a verse in Colossians chapter 2. In Colossians 2:8, the apostle Paul wrote: “See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits[a] of the world, and not according to Christ.” This verse has become the chief proof-text for anti-philosophy Christians. In fact, even the famous reformed preacher John MacArthur argued against philosophy using this text. In The MacArthur Study Bible, he wrote “You know what philosophers are? They’re doodlers with words instead of pencils. They just make a whole lot of verbal squiggles. Colossians 2:8 says this: ‘Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy.’” Unfortunately, this verse has been majorly misinterpreted.

Keep The Text In Its Context

When you look at the verse in context, what you find is that Paul wasn’t saying “Philosophy is bad”, but rather, he was warning his readers to be on the lookout for bad philosophies.

To really understand what Paul is talking about in this verse, one needs to move beyond the verse itself. One needs to read it in context. That means both the immediate context (the verses before and after it) and its cultural context. Moyer Hubbard of Equip.org writes “Looking now at Colossians and the specific context of chapter 2, we find Paul addressing a local assembly that had been infiltrated by a form of false teaching that threatened to undermine the gospel he preached. Paul does not give us enough information to identify precisely what sect or ‘philosophy’ he is describing. There are some clues, however, that suggest that it was perhaps a syncretistic hybrid of Jewish mystical practices and popular pagan folk-belief: he mentions the observance of special days, including the Sabbath (v.16); visionary experience and the worship of angels (v.18); submission to the “elemental spirits of the world” (v.20);6 and abstinence (vv.21,23). Paul clearly is attacking a peculiar form of religious speculation, but it is impossible to identify it with any of the major schools of philosophy known to us from the Greco-Roman world. In fact, it is important to keep in mind that the Greek word philosophia (and its Latin cognate) had a variety of meanings in this period, and, depending on the context, might be translated ‘religion,’ ‘speculation,’ or ‘investigation.'”[1]

We gain more information on this incorrect philosophy by taking into account how Paul describes it in the 8th verse of Colossians 2: Paul says that it’s founded on “human traditions and the elemental powers of the world, and not on Christ.” The key phrase here is “[based] not on Christ.” Paul was targeting “philosophical” speculations that oppose the truths of Christ.

Moreover, I think the phrase “human traditions,” gives us a clue that this ungodly speculation was Jewish in nature. The phrase “human traditions” appears in only one other place; Mark 7:8, where Jesus condemns the Pharisees as those who reject “the commands of God and hold to human traditions” (cf. Galatians 1:14). Paul uses the term “elemental spirits of the world” similarly in referring to the Galatians’ doing the Torah stuff in Galatians 4:3. As Hubbard commented, “That Paul could refer to this syncretistic Jewish speculation as a ‘philosophy’ is in keeping with how Hellenistic Jews of the period sometimes referred to their faith.”[2] He said that because extra-biblical Jewish writers of the time called their theological beliefs “philosophies”. For example, the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus calls Judaism and its multiple sects as “philosophies”[3] (those sects being the Essenes, Sadducees, and Pharisees)[4]

4 Maccabees refers to Judaism as “our philosophy…teaching temperance, self-control, courage” (5.22‑23). Therefore, it very well could be the case that Colossians 2:8 is referring to Judaism and the Judaisers, employing their terminology when referring to their beliefs. If that is the case, then one cannot use Colossians 2:8 to condemn the study of philosophy as a whole, for Paul is merely warning against philosophical systems that oppose the gospel, in this case; the philosophy of the Judaisers.

Dissing Philosophy Is Logically Self-Refuting

Besides the exegetical fallacies in taking Colossians 2:8, there is a logical problem as well; namely, it’s self-refuting. In any attempt you make to formulate arguments against philosophy, you will be reasoning philosophically about philosophy. Yet if you’re reasoning philosophically about philosophy, you’re engaging in the very thing Paul (allegedly) told us not to do; philosophy! This is why Christians who say “I don’t need philosophy” are frequently met with the retort “Really? That’s a nice philosophy.” and “You shouldn’t do philosophy” with “Is that your philosophy?” Are we to believe that The Holy Spirit would inspire Paul to teach self-refuting…. philosophies?

Conclusion
The Apostle Paul was not anti-philosophy. Those who argue that he was, do so by ripping Colossians 2:8 out of context. Moreover, to say you shouldn’t do philosophy and then proceed to give any arguments for it is self-refuting, as you’re doing philosophy.

I’ll end this blog post with a quote from Dr. William Lane Craig: “the man who claims to have no need for philosophy is the one most apt to be fooled by it”[5]

Notes

[1] “Is Colossians 2:8 A Warning Against Philosophy?” – by Moyer Hubbard, http://www.equip.org/article/is-colossians-28-a-warning-against-philosophy/

[2] ibid.

[3] Flavius Josephus Against Apion 2.47.

[4] Flavius Josephus Antiquities 18.11.

[5] https://www.reasonablefaith.org/writings/question-answer/hawking-and-mlodinow-philosophical-undertakers

 


Original Blog Source: http://bit.ly/2RFw7oL

By J. Brian Huffling

It never fails. Offer an argument for God’s existence and almost invariably you will hear, “Well, who created God?” With some arguments, this may be a legitimate objection. I have argued elsewhere that philosophical proofs for God’s existence are more powerful than scientific ones. This objection is one instance where I think one can see the advantage of the philosophical arguments. For example, the usual intelligent design arguments do not necessitate that the designer be an infinite, uncreated being. Thus, the objection considered here would be relevant. But it is not relevant for certain philosophical proofs. These proofs argue either from logic or metaphysics that a being exists that is not caused and has no beginning. Arguments like the 5 Ways of Thomas Aquinas and the ontological argument from Anselm are such arguments. Consider the first of the 5 Ways:

The first and more manifest way is the argument from motion. It is certain, and evident to our senses, that in the world some things are in motion. Now whatever is in motion is put in motion by another, for nothing can be in motion except it is in potentiality to that towards which it is in motion; whereas a thing moves inasmuch as it is in act. For motion is nothing else than the reduction of something from potentiality to actuality. But nothing can be reduced from potentiality to actuality, except by something in a state of actuality. Thus that which is actually hot, as fire, makes wood, which is potentially hot, to be actually hot, and thereby moves and changes it. Now it is not possible that the same thing should be at once in actuality and potentiality in the same respect, but only in different respects. For what is actually hot cannot simultaneously be potentially hot; but it is simultaneously potentially cold. It is therefore impossible that in the same respect and in the same way a thing should be both mover and moved, i.e. that it should move itself. Therefore, whatever is in motion must be put in motion by another. If that by which it is put in motion be itself put in motion, then this also must needs be put in motion by another, and that by another again. But this cannot go on to infinity, because then there would be no first mover, and, consequently, no other mover; seeing that subsequent movers move only inasmuch as they are put in motion by the first mover; as the staff moves only because it is put in motion by the hand. Therefore it is necessary to arrive at a first mover, put in motion by no other; and this everyone understands to be God. (Summa Theologiae, I. q.2 a3)

The point I am trying to make is not whether the argument is sound, but rather to show that the argument does not allow the objection, “Who created God?” The conclusion of the argument is that there exists a being that is not put into motion (caused) by anything else. So the objection “Who created God” is asking “What caused the uncaused cause?” It’s a nonsensical objection that betrays the objector as either not paying attention to the argument or not understanding it. (For the rest of the 5 Ways, click here.)

The objection is usually offered to the Kalam argument which says “Everything that begins to exist has a cause. The universe began to exist. Therefore, the universe has a cause.” The objection is often phrased, “If everything has a cause then why doesn’t God?” The attentive reader will note that the argument does not say everything has a cause, but that all things that have a beginning have a cause. In fact, no argument that I have ever heard says that everything needs a cause. Gottfried Leibniz’s argument from the principle of sufficient reason says that everything has to have a sufficient reason for its existence, but a necessary being is its own sufficient reason since a necessary being does not have a cause. In fact, a necessary being cannot have a cause, or it wouldn’t be a necessary being!

God as the uncaused cause does not require a cause and the “Who created God” objection does nothing except betray the objector’s ignorance of the logic of the (philosophical) argument. The next time someone asks you who created God, all that is needed is to ask the question, “Based on the argument I gave, the conclusion is that a being exists that is uncaused and is the cause of all other being. Why would an uncaused cause need a cause? One can argue that the argument is unsound for some reason, but if the argument is sound the objection is irrelevant.”

That is, of course, if you are using the philosophical type of arguments that are not susceptible to the objection. Since the scientific arguments are susceptible to this objection and at least some of the philosophical ones are not, the latter are more powerful and provide a fuller picture of God.

 


Original Blog Source: http://bit.ly/2P4JsW0

By Ryan Leasure

Back in less civilized times, people believed lightning storms meant the gods were upset with them. An eclipse indicated God was about to bring judgment. Lack of rain meant the people needed to get right with their god.

But we’ve moved on from all that right? After all, science explains everything we need to know about these so-called “acts of God.” Science explains lightning, eclipses, and droughts. We know these aren’t divine acts — or miracles — because science says so.

Or so the skeptic says. In fact, ever since the eighteenth-century philosopher David Hume gave his argument against miracles, skeptics have recycled his argument with fervor. His argument can be summarized as follows: A miracle is a violation of natural law, but a natural law can never be violated.

In other words, Hume denied that miracles are possible from the outset. He argued, a priori, that no amount of evidence would ever persuade him that a miracle actually occurred because natural law always occurs. In sum, science disproves miracles. But is this a reasonable position? Should Christians stop believing in the possibility of miracles?

If God Created The Universe…

Let’s suppose one day a friend of yours argues that it’s impossible for LeBron James to dunk on a five-foot hoop. He’s adamant that it can’t be done because he’s never seen it happen. You’ve never seen LeBron dunk on a five-foot hoop either, but you’ve watched countless games where he’s dunked on a ten-foot hoop with ease. So you try to reason with your friend by asking him, “If LeBron can easily dunk on a ten-foot hoop, don’t you think dunking on a five-foot hoop would be a breeze for him?”

The same kind of argument can be made for the possibility of miracles. You see, God already performed the greatest miracle imaginable when he created the universe out of nothing. He spoke and everything came into existence — including the laws of nature. Who’s to say that God couldn’t intervene in his creation and overpower those laws he established? That would be child’s play for him.

After all, we overpower the laws of nature all the time. Airplanes overpower the law of gravity. When I hit the brakes on my car, I overpower the laws of physics by bringing me to an abrupt halt instead of continuing in motion. And when my kid throws a ball to me, I catch it instead of letting gravity take it to the ground.

Now if you and I can intervene with the laws of nature, don’t you think God could do the same? Couldn’t he cause someone to stand on water instead of sinking? Couldn’t he calm the storm, heal the sick, or even raise the dead? If he created the universe out of nothing, these smaller miracles would be a walk in the park by comparison.

The Question Of Miracles Is Philosophical, Not Scientific

Science tells you what will happen — all things being equal — but it cannot account for someone intervening within the laws of nature. In other words, science will tell you that the ball will drop to the ground because of gravity, but science cannot account for me stopping it from hitting the ground. That is, it can’t account for an intelligent agent overpowering the laws of nature.

In this way, the question of miracles is not so much about science. Rather, it’s a question of philosophy. More specifically, it’s a question of whether miracles are possible or not? David Hume’s philosophical view said no. He rejected the possibility of miracles and stated that no amount of evidence would ever persuade him otherwise.

Theists, on the other hand, believe that since God created the universe, miracles are possible. And why wouldn’t they be? C. S. Lewis famously argued:

If we admit God, must we admit miracles? Indeed, indeed, you have no security against it. That is the bargain.1

What About Evidence?

I’ve heard on more than one occasion skeptics claim that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. On the surface, this sounds legitimate, but ultimately it’s an unreasonable claim. Usually, what the skeptic means is that he needs to see another miracle to prove that a miracle happened. Yet, miracles, by definition, are rare occurrences. If they happened repeatedly to verify other miracles, then it’s no longer miracles we’re talking about. We’re talking about natural law.

I would argue that extraordinary claims only require ordinary evidence. Let me give you an example. Suppose I told you I owned a dog. What kind of evidence would it take to prove to you that I owned a dog? Maybe you’d want to see some pictures or a video. Perhaps you’d want to come to my house and see it for yourself just to make sure.

Now, suppose I told you I owned a flying pig — an extraordinary claim no doubt. What kind of evidence would you need to believe my claim? The same evidence you needed for my dog — ordinary evidence for the extraordinary claim.

Now I’m not suggesting we believe every miracle claim out there. No, we should investigate each claim to determine if the claims are valid or not. We should ask questions such as: Is there credible eye-witness testimony? Are there multiple, independent eye-witnesses? Do the eye-witnesses have anything to gain or lose by making up this claim? Is the evidence compelling? Etc.

When it comes to the miracle accounts in the Gospels, this is what we find. We have eye-witness testimony, multiple sources with nothing to gain but persecution, all the while recording these events in writing within a generation. As far as ancient historiography goes, this is as good as it gets. These events are attested to extremely well by ancient standards.

Why Not More Miracles?

I sympathize with the person who wonders why we don’t see miracles happening today. It can be difficult to believe in them if you’ve never seen one yourself. Again, I would remind us that if we did see them frequently, they’d cease being miracles because they are, by definition, rare events.

I would also point out that miracles didn’t happen all the time in the Bible either. The Bible covers a period of about 1500 years from beginning to end. Yet, we find an overwhelming majority of the miracles in three small windows of time, and in each instance, the miracles authenticated new revelation God was giving to his people.

For example, several miracles occurred during the time of Moses as God gave the Law to his people. During the time of the prophets — especially Elijah and Elisha — God performed dozens of miracles as well. And during the time of Jesus and his apostles, God performed miracles to authenticate their ministries.

Since God isn’t giving any more written revelation at this point, we shouldn’t be surprised that we don’t see miracles on a regular basis. This doesn’t mean, however, that miracles don’t happen today, as many credible reports attest to modern-day miracles. 

Science Doesn’t Disprove Miracles

According to Barna Research, two out of every five US adults say they’ve experienced a miracle. That’s roughly 94 million miracle claims in the US alone. And lest we think it’s simply uneducated who believe this, 55 percent of all US physicians have seen medical results they would consider miraculous.

In order for the skeptic to be right, every last one of these claims, and every other miracle claim in the history of humanity has to be false. Yet, if God created the universe out of nothing — as the scientific data suggests — then his ability to perform miracles is unquestionable. Rather than disproving miracles, it looks like science actually proves they’re possible.

 


Ryan Leasure Holds a M.A. from Furman University and a M.Div. from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He currently serves as a pastor at Grace Bible Church in Moore, SC.

Original Blog Source: http://bit.ly/2IyVlRJ

By J. Brian Huffling

Is God in time? This is a popular question. Does it matter? What does it mean for God to be in time or not? In this article, I will argue that the answer to this question is terribly important in maintaining a biblical and orthodox view of God. In order to answer this question, we must first ask, “What is time?”

“Are you an A-theorist or a B-theorist?” I’m often asked. A-theory and B-theory have been two major views of time since the early 20thcentury. The A-theory states that the past, present, and future exists in some way. We are moving “through” time in a sense. Some views of this theory hold that the past is getting bigger with each passing moment; others hold that the future is getting smaller. The commonality is that time is moving from future to past. Since this view holds that there are different tenses, it is considered a “tensed” theory of time.

The B-theory holds that there are no tenses and that all events exist either simultaneously, before, or after one another, because time doesn’t “pass” through one moment to the next. Thus, it is considered a “tenseless” theory of time. Instead of saying event A is past in relation to event B, the B-theorist would say that event A is before event B. For example, George Washington exists before Abraham Lincoln, but not in some temporal existence called “the past.” In both of these theories, time is said to “exist” in some way. Thus, time is not moving in any way, but we can describe events temporally by saying one event is before or after another event without using tenses such as “past” or “future.”

An oft-forgotten view says that time doesn’t “exist” at all. The A and B theories “reify” time (from the Latin res meaning “thing”). That is, they make time into an existing thing. Rather than saying time is a thing, those who follow Aristotle say that time doesn’t exist; rather, things exist and time is a measurement of how those things change. For example, there is no such thing as a year. A year is simply the measurement of how long it takes the Earth to revolve around the sun. It is a measurement of the Earth’s change. In my view, this view has more explanatory power and creates fewer problems. This discussion gets very technical very fast, but this is the gist of it. So how does this relate to God?

Methods of Inquiry

There are two basic ways to ask, “Is God a temporal being?” One is to look at all of the problems that arise with one view or the other and take the opposite position. Such a method has become par for the course in issues of metaphysics and philosophy of religion. The other way is systematic. Instead of simply seeing which view has fewer problems, a systematic view first deduces what God’s nature is like and then looks at how to answer such questions as to how does he relate to creation? Such a method is less ad hoc (that is, one doesn’t just make God up as he goes in an effort to solve problems), but rather tries to gain an understanding of what God is like before even asking secondary or tertiary questions. God’s nature thus becomes primary and such questions become secondary.

In keeping with the first method (of solving problems before first seeing what God is like), many contemporary thinkers on this issue believe that God must be temporal. Several arguments are marshaled for this conclusion. One common one is God’s knowledge. It is generally conceded that God knows what is going on in the world. But things in the world are changing. If what God knows changes, then God’s knowledge changes. But if God’s knowledge changes then God changes. And if God changes then he is temporal. It is argued that if his knowledge does not change, then he can’t have knowledge of the changing world. However, if he doesn’t have knowledge of the changing world, then his knowledge is limited. His knowledge is not limited. Therefore, he knows the changing world and is thus temporal.

This type of argument suffers from blurring the Creator/creature distinction. It unduly anthropomorphizes God. A Thomistic (following Thomas Aquinas) response to this argument is to point out that God is not a human and does not know the way humans know. We know through our senses. God does not have senses, so he can’t know that way. This is not a limitation on his part, for he knows his creation in a more perfect way. Rather than having to “look outside” of himself in the way we do, since God is the creator and sustainer of creation, he knows the universe by simply knowing himself since he is the perfect and complete cause of it. He is an eternal cause of a temporal effect. He has complete and perfect knowledge of his creation simultaneously. He is not reactive; he is pure act. He does not have to wait and see what is going on. Thus, his knowledge is timeless.

Defenders of divine temporality may retort that since the future isn’t a thing to be known as it does not exist and only existing things can be known. However, this unnecessarily reifies time (makes it into a thing). It further begs the question by saying God necessarily knows by some temporal means. If he does not, God does not need to “wait” for the future to happen, as he doesn’t learn in that way anyway. This reply also seems unbiblical as it is clear God has “foreknown” or ordained things “prior” to his creating the universe (Eph. 1:4). He does not need to wait and see what happens.

An example of a systematic approach is that of Thomas Aquinas. He first argues that God is pure act (existence), and is thus simple. Divine simplicity means that he has no parts (physical or metaphysical). (If you want to know more about divine simplicity read this article. This article deals with objections to the theory.) If he has no parts, then he cannot change, since change requires at least two parts: a state of existence and a state of possible existence that becomes actual. If God has no such metaphysical parts, then he can’t change. Further, if time is the measurement of change, then God is not measured by time. He is thus not temporal, but atemporal or eternal. Such states are philosophically different from ‘everlasting’ as the latter means always existing with no end. A temporal being like humans are everlasting, but this state of existence is different from an atemporal being that has no succession of moments or change.

Problems With Thinking God Is Temporal

Many problems arise if we say God is temporal. Ultimately we will again be blurring the Creator/creature distinction. If God is temporal, then he is changing, reactive (not active), and passive. If he changes, then he is composed of act and potency (existence with the possibility to change, which are different metaphysical parts). If he is composed, then he needs a composer, and he is not God. Further, if his knowledge changes, then he is not infinite since his knowledge would be increasing (an actual infinite cannot increase or be added to as it would not be infinite, to begin with, if more can be added to it). He also would not be perfect. What would he be changing from imperfection to perfection, perfection to perfection (this is not possible), or perfection to imperfection? The first option would seem to be the case since he would be learning something he did not know to begin with.

The difference with such a picture of God is that it rejects the classical picture of God as taught in the creeds, by the church fathers, and what Scripture and reason dictate. It replaces classical theism with process theology. Process theology teaches that God is in a process of becoming (becoming actual). He in a way learns, grows, and becomes. This picture of God is very passive, and often makes God part of his creation. Mainline Christians reject such a notion of God explicitly, but many implicitly endorse such a notion when they say God is temporal. For, if he really is temporal, then he is changing. And to be in a state of change is to be in a process. Thus, process theology rears its ugly head, even if in a nicer outfit. We are also left with this “God” being finite for the above reason that his being is added to in terms of knowledge and possibly other areas.

But What About the Bible?

The Bible describes God as being active in the world, changing in certain ways, and seemingly not knowing things, such as what was going on in Sodom and Gomorrah: “I will go down to see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me. And if not, I will know” (Gen. 18:21). The Bible also describes God in various metaphorical ways, such as having physical body parts. Such descriptions are figures of speech. When trying to discover what God is like we need to describe him in literal ways. We know him through creation, as Paul says in Rom. 1:18-21. This means that we don’t make metaphors literal, metaphysical expressions of the divine nature. If God is spirit (John 4:4), then he can’t have body parts. The Bible is not contradicting itself; it is sometimes using metaphorical language and sometimes using metaphysical (literal) language. There are truths in metaphorical expressions, however. For example, when the Bible says that God is a rock, it means that like a rock he is strong and provides protection. Further, the Bible is not a systematic theology book. It does contain theology, but it is primarily a series of books and letters written to convey God’s relationship with Israel in the Old Testament, and the gospel and how it relates to believers and unbelievers in the New Testament. But it is not a systematic theology or philosophy book. Again, as Paul says, God’s “divine nature and eternal power” are known through creation. We know what God is like in a more literal way by studying him through his creation.

Conclusion

Questions like the one we have been considering are not just for professional philosophers. The way we answer this question will determine what we think about God and his relation to time and about his nature and his relation to creation in general. The answer to such questions should not arise out of simply trying to solve problems one by one; but rather discovering what God is like from his creation and then answering questions after we have a systematic view of God’s nature and attributes. This is an incredibly important issue that requires much consideration. It is part of being an intellectual and informed Christian. It is also one way we can worship God with our minds.

 


Original Blog Source: http://bit.ly/2PukGPQ

By Ken Mann

Think Week: The Foundations of Science Found in Christian Theism, 2

Five Explanations

In this post, we will begin to consider how the presuppositions of science described in the previous post can be explained or grounded. Recall that these presuppositions cannot be discovered or defended via any kind of scientific process. Rather they form a foundation that makes science possible.

In order to explore how to explain or ground the presuppositions of science, we necessarily turn to the question of worldviews. For the sake of space, I am going to contrast Christian theism with naturalism. By naturalism, I mean the view that everything that exists is physical. Immaterial things such as souls, consciousness or numbers do not exist. This would also exclude the existence of immaterial minds.

Let’s consider three of the presuppositions.

A Real World

In contrast to other religious systems (e.g., Hinduism or pantheism), Christianity teaches that the creation is real. Human beings were created as both physical and spiritual beings that must interact with the reality of their physical existence.

For the naturalist, this is not a strange idea, in fact, one definition of naturalism is simply that physical reality is the only reality.

An Orderly World

The Christian perspective as to why creation is orderly is based on three things. First, there is a single, transcendent creator. Creation is not filled with multiple, immanent, and competing gods.

Rather, all of reality is the unified and coherent product of a single mind. Second, the order of nature rests on the character of God. Since God is revealed to be reliable and unchanging, it is reasonable to expect creation to be the same. Third, God is the divine legislator. If God were the source and foundation of morality, why wouldn’t He also be the source for the “laws of nature.”

It is important to note that the very idea of “laws of nature” or even that creation should be orderly and predictable was unknown until the Middle Ages. Scholastic thinkers wrestling with how to integrate Aristotle’s views of creation with the Bible concluded that laws govern nature.

Further, they believed while God was the author of such laws, He was not constrained by them.

Nancy Pearcey makes the following observation: “The order of the reasoning here is important.

The early scientists did not argue that the world was lawfully ordered, and therefore there must be a rational God. Instead, they argued that there was a rational God, and therefore the world must be lawfully ordered. They had greater confidence in the existence and character of God than in the lawfulness of nature.”[1]

A Continuing World

The following passage by David Hume is a powerful description of the problem of induction, the process by which we infer that the future will be like the past.

For all inferences from experience suppose, as their foundation, that the future will resemble the past, and that similar powers will be conjoined with similar sensible qualities. If there be any suspicion that the course of nature may change, and that the past may be no rule for the future, all experience becomes useless and can give rise to no inference or conclusion. It is impossible, therefore, that any arguments from experience can prove this resemblance of the past to the future; since all these arguments are founded on the supposition of that resemblance.[2]

From the naturalist perspective, there is no answer to this issue other than the mere hope that the world will continue and that the “course of nature” will not change. However, the Christian theist turns to the doctrine that God sustains creation. Everything continues because God chooses for it to continue.

In the next post, we will consider the last two presuppositions, An Understandable World, and An Expressible World.

Biography

Carlson, Richard F., Wayne F. Frair, Gary D. Patterson, Jean Pond, Stephen C. Meyer, and

Howard J. Van Till. Science & Christianity: Four Views. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2000.

Collins, C. John. Science and Faith: Friends or Foes?. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2003.

DeWeese, Garrett J. Doing Philosophy as a Christian. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2011.

Deweese, Garrett J. Philosophy Made Slightly Less Difficult: A Beginner’s Guide to Life’s Big

Questions. Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2005.

Gould, Stephen Jay. Rocks of Ages: Science and Religion in the Fullness of Life. New York, NY: Ballantine Books, 1999.

Hume, David. “The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding.” http://www.gutenberg.org/files/9662/9662-h/9662-h.htm (accessed April 14, 2015).

Moreland, J. P. Christianity and the Nature of Science: A Philosophical Investigation. 2nd ed.

Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1999.

Moreland, J. P., and William Lane Craig. Philosophical Foundations for a Christian Worldview. IVP Academic, 2003.

Numbers, Ronald L. Galileo Goes to Jail and Other Myths about Science and Religion. 1st ed.

Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009.

Pearcey, Nancy. The Soul of Science: Christian Faith and Natural Philosophy. Wheaton, IL:

Crossway Books, 1994.

Stark, Rodney. For the Glory of God: How Monotheism Led to Reformations, Science, Witch-

Hunts, and the End of Slavery. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004.

Notes

[1] Nancy Pearcey, The Soul of Science: Christian Faith and Natural Philosophy (Wheaton, IL:

Crossway Books, 1994), Kindle Locations 221–223.

[2] David Hume, “The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding,” http://www.gutenberg.org/files/9662/9662-h/9662-h.htm, (accessed April 14, 2015).

By Terrell Clemmons

“Don’t be surprised to find out that there are atheists and agnostics in your midst,” Ted said to me, after railing against the evils of organized religion. I got the impression he expected some kind of visible reaction from me.

But I wasn’t surprised. He’d already said he was a humanist. The two kind of go together. Besides, I’m not horrified over atheists. I took the bait. You wanna discuss atheism, Ted? Let’s discuss atheism. “So, I get that you have problems with organized religion, Ted. But human organizations aside, do you believe there is a God? Or do you believe there is not a God?”

Ted didn’t give me a straightforward answer, though. Instead, he referred me to Sam Harris, one of his “favorite authors and Freethinkers,” who takes issue with some Catholic teachings and other Christian ideas about God. That was fine for Sam Harris, but Ted didn’t answer for himself. So I repeated the question.

This time he answered. “I don’t believe there is a God,” he said and followed up with a caricature of Christianity. “I don’t believe there is a supreme being that created the universe; and sits in heaven and watches every movement and monitors the thoughts of every human. I see very clearly the problems of organized religion…the hypocrisies, the greed, the sadistic, bullying behavior.”

Now I had something to work with. In the language of the basic logic of reasoning from premises (P) to conclusions (C), I reflected his own reasoning back to him. “Ok, Ted, correct me if I’m wrong. From what I’m hearing, your reasoning goes something like this:

P: People associated with organized religion have engaged in the objectionable behavior.
C: Therefore, there is no God.”

Since he’d quoted Sam Harris, I did the same for Harris’s reasoning. “And Sam Harris’s reasoning goes something like this:

P: The character traits of God as presented by some organized religions are objectionable to me.
C: Therefore, there is no God.”

At this, Ted clarified himself a bit. He was a “science guy,” and God, if he exists, is either “impotent…or evil.” And then he was ready to be done with it. “But, enough about what I think,” he said, and he shifted the subject to something else.

This exchange illustrates something about non-theists, whether they call themselves humanists, agnostics, atheists, freethinkers, or whatever label they prefer. At root, the atheist’s position is intellectually unsound.

Here’s another example:

Ivan: “I’m definitely an atheist. I am an atheist because I cannot believe in fantasy. There is no God. There is no Heaven. There is no Hell. That stuff was created by man to help a man feel better about himself. When I look at the scientific facts, I cannot believe in that. So yes, I am an atheist. Absolutely.”

Terrell: “Which scientific facts?”

Ivan reads off statistics about the size of the universe, emphasizing its vastness. “To think that there’s some type of supreme being, call it God or Jesus, that is bigger than that? That is concerned about us on earth? About our welfare? About our future? It’s absolutely preposterous,”

Ivan’s reasoning went like this:

P: The universe is really huge.
C: Therefore, there is no God.

Like Ted, Ivan considers himself a “science guy.”

Well, I like science, too. And, sure, the size of the universe is a marvel. But it says nothing about the existence or non-existence of God. Nothing, whatsoever. Soon, Ivan was ready to call it quits too. “I believe that at some point, people end up with firm convictions,” he wrote to me in an e-mail. “Their viewpoints should be respected and further attempts to convert them should be avoided because not everybody wants to be converted.”

Ahh, now we have arrived at the heart of the matter: Not everybody wants to be converted. These two exchanges expose the heretofore hidden reality that Ted and Ivan have made a personal, philosophical faith choice to disbelieve. Believers need to remember this and press those vocal non-theists to make their case. The prevailing posture among atheism says the atheistic worldview is more intellectually sound and evolutionarily advanced—that atheism is the belief anyone would come to if he merely examined the scientific facts, all other belief systems being vestiges of Stone Age superstition on a par with moon worship and child sacrifice. But it’s not. Get the facts out in the open and it becomes pretty obvious. Theism stands. Atheism falls. Because there really is a God who created the universe.

The smart atheists seem to know this. Tom Gilson invited David Silverman, president of American Atheists, to co-sponsor an open, reasoned debate at the Reason Rally which will take place this weekend. He declined. William Lane Craig invited Richard Dawkins to debate. He declined.

Nevertheless, unreason notwithstanding, the Reason Rally will go on this weekend. Take it as an invitation to reason together with the non-theists in our midst. Theism is up to the challenge. Atheism isn’t.

Related Readings

This post first appeared at Robin’s Readings and Reflections, where I will be guest blogging on occasion. Check it out.

 


Original Blog Source: http://bit.ly/2FY2I76

By Andrew Cabrera

I was at a Christmas party a few years ago and someone walked up to me and began talking to me about my views on God. At one point in the conversation he asked the age-old question, “Can God make a rock so heavy that he himself can’t lift it?” Among other things, I mentioned that omnipotence does not mean that God can do what is logically impossible. Then the conversation abruptly ended as he said, “You can’t use logic to talk about God. God is not bound by the logic of Man!” Then he nodded his head and tipped his chicken wing at me as if to say “Gotcha!” and walked away triumphantly before I had a chance to say a word. Was he right? Is God bound by logic? Can God do the logically impossible?

What are the Laws of Logic?

The laws of logic are not invented; they are discovered truths about the nature of reality itself. It is commonly accepted that there are three fundamental laws of logic and that all other logical principles are derived from these three laws; these foundational laws are: the principle of identity, the law of the excluded middle, and the law of non-contradiction. Each of these is similar, but subtly distinct from the others. The principle of identity can be symbolized as ∀(p): (p=p), which is a fancy way of saying that “p” is what it is. The law of the excluded middle can be symbolized as (p v ~p), and means that it will always be the case that either “p” or “not p” is true (there is no third option). And finally, the law of non-contradiction can be symbolized as ~(p * ~p), and means that both “p” and “not p” cannot be true in the same way at the same time. This may seem a bit abstract, but I just wanted to make sure we began on equal footing about what the laws of logic were before trying to apply them.

Is God bound by logic?

There first needs to be a distinction made between what IS logically coherent, and what SEEMS logically coherent. Our rational intuition can fail us at times. We can think of our rational intuition as failing in terms of what statisticians call Type I errors and Type II errors. A Type I error is also known as a “false positive,” this occurs when your rational intuition says that something is logical when it is really not. Conversely when your rational intuition says that something is illogical when it is actually logically coherent, this is a Type II error or a “false negative.” God is inherently rational and cannot be in opposition to his nature, but he is not limited to our “logic” when we make such errors. What SEEMS logical to us at the moment, may not always BE logical upon further inspection. God is not subject to the laws of logic, as if they are exterior forces acting upon him; but in the same way that Christians see goodness itself as being metaphysically tied to the benevolence of God, we can also see rationality and logic as ontologically anchored in the nature of God himself. God doesn’t submit to external logic, nor does he arbitrarily dictate logic, but he is rational by virtue of his essential nature.

Why should I care about logic as a Christian? 

We are made in the image of God as both moral and rational beings. In the same way that we should strive to emulate God’s goodness, we should also strive to emulate his rationality. Logic not only helps us to attain a more robust understanding of the nature of God, but it is essential for fulfilling our commands to share the gospel and have a ready defense of the hope within us. Far from being an opposing force, logic is at the core of the Christian faith. Throughout the Old and New Testament, the authors (and even Jesus himself) make claims of exclusivity, identity and ontological reality; all of which are meaningless without first granting the fundamental laws of logic. Proper exegesis, historical data, every classical argument for the existence of God, every theological position you take, and even the Gospel message itself are all -in one way or another- dependent on these fundamental laws being true. Even the very nature and existence of God must be described in terms of these fundamental laws. If you take away the principle of identity, the identity and deity of Christ follows suit. If the law of non-contradiction is lost, so is the exclusivity of truth itself, and any meaningful notions of the existence of God go with it.

 


Andrew Cabrera is an undergraduate student currently working towards his B.A. in Philosophy (with plans of pursuing graduate work in philosophy thereafter). He was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, and still lives there with his wife and son. His academic interests include: Metaphysics, Formal Logic, Political Philosophy and Philosophy of Religion.

Original Blog Source: http://bit.ly/2AIqHzv